made our way, among rocks and thorns, to the valley of Hinnom, well planted with olives, figs, and pomegranates. We ascended the hill leading to the Yâfa gate, meeting many people on foot and on horseback, who were just starting for a stroll before sunset. We passed under the deep, pointed archway, through the vaulted chamber in the great gate, along by the wall and deep moat of the citadel or tower of David, and then turned down a narrow passage, leading to the consulate, which adjoined the English church. Here we dismounted, and I felt a strange joy when, for the first time, my feet stood within thy gates, O Jerusalem!
Mr. Bartlett has made the streets of the Holy City so familiar in his "Walks about Jerusalem," and "Jerusalem Revisited," and Mr. Murray's invaluable Hand-Book gives its topography and statistics so perfectly, that I will refer my readers to those sources, and only give a slight account of the city as I saw it.
My brother led me back to the open space in the front of the citadel, where a daily market is held in the early morning. We passed a large open café, where soldiers and groups of Moslems were smoking. The Latin convent, a large, well-built stone edifice, is opposite the citadel; its long, flat roof serves for a terrace, where a number of monks and boys, in black robes, were walking in monotonous procession. The Anglican bishop's town-house overlooks the market-place, out of which we turned into a bustling street, paved with gradually-descending shallow steps, so smooth and worn, and so scattered with melon parings and other vegetable refuse, that it was difficult to find a sure footing. On each side there were Arab shops, the owners of which were folding up their gay wares, or stowing away baskets of dried fruit or trays of pipes preparatory to closing for the night, for it was past the eleventh hour. We turned up Christian-street, the first turning on the left, where, besides the truly Oriental barbers' shops, the coffee-houses, pipe-makers, and bakers,
