times we strolled about the grounds in little companies, visiting the vineyards and the bright-green sumach plantations below, or the thrashing-floor above, and the few scattered stone and mud hovels, roofed with tree-branches, which were the homes of the peasant guardians of the ground. In one of these little nooks we saw a stone hand mill and two women working it, grinding corn.
The Europeans of Jerusalem, especially those who have children, or who have been accustomed to temperate climes, generally encamp thus from June to September, and select a site about a mile or more from the city, so that the gentlemen can go into town every day, while the ladies and children rarely do so except on Sunday. This is one of the pleasantest phases in the life of the European resident in Jerusalem, and it may be justly attributed to Mr. Finn, for he was the first who ventured thus to trust himself and his family in the open country. His little stone house on the Talibîyeh—of which he was the architect, while Jews were its builders—was the first and for a long time the only private dwelling-house outside the city; whereas now, 1862, buildings of importance and commodious dwelling-houses are rapidly rising on the hills round about Jerusalem.
On Sunday, July 8th, we had a pleasant early ride into town, and the chimes of the church bells welcomed us. Flags were hoisted at all the Consulates. Ladies and children from distant encampments were alighting at the doors of the Anglican church from sleek and gayly-trapped donkeys. The congregation consisted of about a hundred Europeans, including children, and about half as many Arabs and Jewish converts. The transepts were occupied by the children of the diocesan schools, all in simple European dress, but it was easy to distinguish the bright, intelligent countenances of the Jewish children-the gentle and amiable-looking little Abyssinians—the long-headed Copts—the precocious and handsome Arabs—and the pretty little Armenians, in spite of their uncharacteristic costumes.
