which did lead to many thoughts.

We talked of these things, as to many of which I found that my
friend was much more free in his doubts and questionings than
myself; and then our words came back to ourselves, the natural
centre of all men's-thoughts and words. "From what you say," I
said, "I gather that you have had enough of this land?"

"Quite enough," he said. "Why seek such spots as these, if they
only dispel the associations and veneration of one's childhood?"

"But with me such associations and veneration are riveted the
stronger by seeing the places, and putting my hand upon the spots.
I do not speak of that fictitious marble slab up there; but here,
among the sandhills by this river, and at the Mount of Olives over
which we passed, I do believe."

He paused a moment, and then replied: "To me it is all nothing,--
absolutely nothing. But then do we not know that our thoughts are
formed, and our beliefs modelled, not on the outward signs or
intrinsic evidences of things,--as would be the case were we always
rational,--but by the inner workings of the mind itself? At the
present turn of my life I can believe in nothing that is gracious."

"Ah, you mean that you are unhappy. You have come to grief in some
of your doings or belongings, and therefore find that all things are
bitter to the taste. I have had my palate out of order too; but the
proper appreciation of flavours has come back to me. Bah,--how
noisome was that Dead Sea water!"