religious luxury. The English have lately built a very handsome church
within the walls, and the Rev. Dr. Gobat, well known by his missionary
labors in Abyssinia, now has the title of Bishop of Jerusalem. A friend of
his in Central Africa gave me a letter of introduction for him, and I am
quite disappointed in finding him absent. Dr. Barclay, of Virginia, a most
worthy man in every respect, is at the head of the American Mission here.
There is, besides, what is called the "American Colony," at the village of
Artos, near Bethlehem: a little community of religious enthusiasts, whose
experiments in cultivation have met with remarkable success, and are much
spoken of at present.

Whatever good the various missions here may, in time, accomplish (at
present, it does not amount to much), Jerusalem is the last place in the
world where an intelligent heathen would be converted to Christianity.
Were I cast here, ignorant of any religion, and were I to compare the
lives and practices of the different sects as the means of making my
choice--in short, to judge of each faith by the conduct of its
professors--I should at once turn Mussulman. When you consider that in the
Holy Sepulchre there are _nineteen_ chapels, each belonging to a different
sect, calling itself Christian, and that a Turkish police is always
stationed there to prevent the bloody quarrels which often ensue between
them, you may judge how those who call themselves followers of the Prince
of Peace practice the pure faith he sought to establish. Between the Greek
and Latin churches, especially, there is a deadly feud, and their
contentions are a scandal, not only to the few Christians here, but to the
Moslems themselves. I believe there is a sort of truce at present, owing
to the settlement of some of the disputes--as, for instance, the
restoration of the silver star, which the Greeks stole from the shrine of
the Nativity, at Bethlehem. The Latins, however, not long since,
demolished, _vi et armis_, a chapel which the Greeks commenced building on