had produced in me impressions of a pure joy, of an inexpressible charm. Never had I heard it uttered, never had I uttered it myself, without a sort of thrill: judge then, my dear friend, you who are a Christian, a pious man, judge how much more vivid and delicious must have been the emotions of my soul as I approached it!

"In a few moments my eyes will behold that Bethlehem, the name of which is so dear to me! They will behold it! They will behold that stable in which was born the fairest of the sons of men, the ruler of the universe, the word of life, my Saviour! They will behold that manger in which he was laid, wrapped in swaddling clothes; that manger, the only cradle that his mother had to give to such a son! They will behold the place, whither the shepherds of the neighbouring country, apprized by the voices of the angels, came to adore him; and that upon which knelt the kings of the East, brought by that miraculous star to pay homage to the King of kings, and to offer him their presents; and that where Mary, the incomparable mother, suckled her infant, warmed him at her bosom, pressed him to her heart."

Thus did I inwardly say to myself, and with these thoughts which filled my soul were blended the fondest recollections of my childhood, of that age when the reading of the holy Scriptures constituted my chief delight; when the affecting histories of Abel, of Isaac, of Joseph, of the child Jesus, especially of his having but a handful of straw for his bed, and a stable for his palace, moved me to the bottom of my heart and moistened my eyes with tears; when a mother, whose name too was Mary, mingled with those admirable narratives the simple com

mentaries of her piety and her tenderness, rendered sensible to my eyes by means of engravings what my too young understanding alone would not have thoroughly comprehended, answered my little questions, and never appeared more happy than when I dunned her with my innocent curiosity.

The road from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, though not so bad as that from Rama to Jerusalem, is stony and unequal. It is only at long intervals that you meet with cultivated spots; the olive is the only tree that is seen, and that is very rare.

At the distance of a league and a half, and on the right, my guide pointed out to me the plain of Raphaim, so celebrated on account of the victory gained by David over the Philistines.

About half way is a Greek monastery which bears the name of the prophet Elijah. It is a paltry building, without any thing remarkable. In front of the monastery is a tree, the thick foliage of which shades a stone that, according to tradition, served the prophet for a bed. Not far thence, on the right, I perceived a small square building surmounted by a dome. "It is the tomb of Rachel," said my dragoman. It is possible that this monument may have been erected on the spot where Jacob's wife was buried; but that it dates back to the time of the patriarch, or that he erected any tomb at all for her, may be the more reasonably doubted, inasmuch as the Bible merely says that, on his return from Mesopotamia, when he was near Ephrath, Rachel died, and he buried her on the way to Ephrath. It is evident, moreover, from the mere inspection of the edifice, that it belongs to a much later period.

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We pursued our route, and, a few steps farther, on the slope of a hill, that Bethlehem, so dear to my heart, suddenly burst upon my view. In the transport of my joy, I saluted thee, land of Judea, and, borrowing the language of the prophets, I exclaimed: "Thou art not the least among the cities of Judah; for from thee shall go forth, and has actually gone forth, the chief of Israel, Jesus, my Saviour!"

As we advanced, the view became more lovely and delightful. Bethlehem, seated amidst the hills and the plains which surround it, presented a picturesque prospect: the fields irregularly divided, according to the extent of the different properties, and sometimes inclosed by walls, appeared to me better cultivated; trees, the fig and the olive especially, were much more frequent. On the one hand, I perceived the mountains of Judea; on the other, beyond the Dead Sea, those of Arabia Petræa; the most unimportant objects captivated my whole attention. I stopped, I went forward, I turned back, I looked about, I mustered my recollections. In sight of that blessed land, of those plains, of those hills, I called to mind the rural manners of the patriarchs who dwelt there, their pastoral life, and the charming pictures of it left us in the Scripture. I thought of the ancestors of the Saviour, who had lived in these same parts; of the boy David, tending his father's flocks; of Boaz, David's grandfather; of that admirable Moabite, whose name was destined, by the dispensation of God, to be inscribed in the genealogy of his Son; of Ruth, gleaning the fields of him whom Heaven decreed for her husband; that Ruth, whose touching history was well

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worthy to become one of our canonical books, and for whom religious Poesy has thought that she could never choose colours sufficiently soft and vivid.

It was six o'clock when I reached the monastery where I was expected. I was informed that the most reverend Father warden of the Holy Sepulchre had gone with part of the community as far as Rachel's tomb to meet As I had not taken the same road, and had gone first one way and then another, I had not fallen in with him.

me.

I am at Bethlehem! .... at Bethlehem! Amidst the attentions and the testimonies of a tender charity lavished upon me by the monks, my mind was occupied exclusively with one idea: I thought of nothing but the happiness of beholding the sacred Grotto. But, a stranger, unacquainted with the monastery, not knowing whether I must apply to the Turks for the keys, in spite of myself I appeared grave, absent, and my looks betrayed my fears and my preoccupations. And, besides, I wanted solitude, night, silence, as at the tomb of our Saviour, and on Golgotha. A good Father guessed what was passing within me: seeing me so pensive, "You wish, perhaps," said he," to visit the holy places this evening?"

"This very evening," I replied, "if there be nothing indiscreet in that wish, but as late as possible and alone."-" Well, wait till the community has retired to rest, and I will come and fetch you." He then accompanied me to the cell which had been prepared for me.

The lights were extinguished one by one in the monastery. In the cloister where my cell was situated, nought was to be heard save the vibration of the pen

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dulum of the clock, and the faint murmur of some of the monks praying beside their beds. Presently, the good Father Joseph came for me. I followed him with a lantern in my hand. We descended the great staircase, passed through several vaulted rooms, and arrived at the church. Turning thence to the right, we proceeded by a staircase cut out of the rock, and very narrow, to a winding way equally narrow, and still in the rock, where my guide pointed out to me an altar, and told me that beneath it is the tomb of the Holy Innocents. He was then directing my attention to another, when, impelled by a pious impatience, "I will look at that another time," said I, in a low tone; "let us proceed." We ascended some steps, and, having gone a few paces farther, we found ourselves before a door, which he hastily opened. I beheld a deep grotto, lighted by a great number of lamps. My guide withdrew .... and I, my soul moved by fear, respect, love, I entered, I fell on my knees, I prayed, I contemplated, I adored.

And those hours of night, during which I had watched near the manger of the Lamb without spot, reminded me of that night and that hour when the angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks, when the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. Methought an angel said to me as to them, "Fear not :" I had felt the great joy which had been promised to them, because I was in the city of David, and on that very spot whither I had come to pray was born for me a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. Like them I had found that sign given by