vision of angels flitting up and down a ladder that reached from the

clouds to earth, and caught glimpses of their blessed home through the

open gates of Heaven.

The pilgrims took what was left of the hallowed ruin, and we pressed on

toward the goal of our crusade, renowned Jerusalem.

The further we went the hotter the sun got, and the more rocky and bare,

repulsive and dreary the landscape became. There could not have been

more fragments of stone strewn broadcast over this part of the world, if

every ten square feet of the land had been occupied by a separate and

distinct stonecutter's establishment for an age. There was hardly a tree

or a shrub any where. Even the olive and the cactus, those fast friends

of a worthless soil, had almost deserted the country. No landscape

exists that is more tiresome to the eye than that which bounds the

approaches to Jerusalem. The only difference between the roads and the

surrounding country, perhaps, is that there are rather more rocks in the

roads than in the surrounding country.

We passed Ramah, and Beroth, and on the right saw the tomb of the

prophet

Samuel, perched high upon a commanding eminence. Still no Jerusalem

came

in sight. We hurried on impatiently. We halted a moment at the ancient

Fountain of Beira, but its stones, worn deeply by the chins of thirsty

animals that are dead and gone centuries ago, had no interest for us--we

longed to see Jerusalem. We spurred up hill after hill, and usually

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The Innocents Abroad