ight have rivalled an old
eremite of Engedi, Tancred had kneeled before that empty sepulchre of
the divine Prince of the house of David, for which his ancestor,
Tancred de Montacute, six hundred years before, had struggled with
those followers of Mahound, who, to the consternation and perplexity of
Christendom, continued to retain it. Christendom cares nothing for
that tomb now, has indeed forgotten its own name, and calls itself
enlightened Europe. But enlightened Europe is not happy. Its existence
is a fever, which it calls progress. Progress to what?

The youthful votary, during his vigils at the sacred tomb, had received
solace but not inspiration. No voice from heaven had yet sounded, but
his spirit was filled with the sanctity of the place, and he returned to
his cell to prepare for fresh pilgrimages.

One day, in conference with Lara, the Spanish Prior had let drop these
words: 'Sinai led to Calvary; it may be wise to trace your steps from
Calvary to Sinai.'

At this moment, Tancred and his escort are in sight of Bethlehem, with
the population of a village but the walls of a town, situate on an
eminence overlooking a valley, which seems fertile after passing the
stony plain of Rephaim. The first beams of the sun, too, were rising
from the mountains of Arabia and resting on the noble convent of the
Nativity.

From Bethlehem to Hebron, Canaan is still a land of milk and honey,
though not so rich and picturesque as in the great expanse of Palestine
to the north of the Holy City. The beauty and the abundance of the
promised land may still be found in Samaria and Galilee; in the
magnificent plains of Esdraelon, Zabulon, and Gennesareth; and ever by
the gushing waters of the bowery Jordan.

About an hour after leaving Bethlehem, in a secluded valley, is one of
the few remaining public works of the great Hebrew Kings, It is in every
respect worthy of them. I speak of those colossal reservoirs cut out
of the native rock and fed by a single spring, discharging their waters
into an aqueduct of perforated stone, which, until a comparatively
recent period, still conveyed them to Jerusalem. They are three in
number, of varying lengths from five to six hundred feet, and almost
as broad; their depth, still undiscovered. They communicate with each
other, so that the water of the uppermost reservoir, flowing through the
intermediate one, reached the third, which fed the aqueduct. They are
lined with a hard cement like that