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 Mount Zion.  But, if the employment of material weapons has been abandoned for the time, there is none the less a war of words and of sounds still going on.  Go into the Holy Sepulchre, when mass is being celebrated, and you can scarcely endure the din.  No sooner does the Greek choir begin its shrill chant, than the Latins fly to the assault.  They have an organ, and terribly does that organ strain its bellows and labor its pipes to drown the rival singing.  You think the Latins will carry the day, when suddenly the cymbals of the Abyssinians strike in with harsh brazen clang, and, for the moment, triumph.  Then there are Copts, and Maronites, and Armenians, and I know not how many other sects, who must have their share; and the service that should be a many-toned harmony pervaded by one grand spirit of devotion, becomes a discordant orgie, befitting the rites of Belial.

A long time ago—­I do not know the precise number of years—­the Sultan granted a firman, in answer to the application of both Jews and Christians, allowing the members of each sect to put to death any person belonging to the other sect, who should be found inside of their churches or synagogues.  The firman has never been recalled, though in every place but Jerusalem it remains a dead letter.  Here, although the Jews freely permit Christians to enter their synagogue, a Jew who should enter the Holy Sepulchre would be lucky if he escaped with his life.  Not long since, an English gentleman, who was taken by the monks for a Jew, was so severely beaten that he was confined to his bed for two months.  What worse than scandal, what abomination, that the spot looked upon by so many Christians as the most awfully sacred on earth, should be the scene of such brutish intolerance!  I never pass the group of Turkish officers, quietly smoking their long pipes and sipping their coffee within the vestibule of the Church, without a feeling of humiliation.  Worse than the money-changers whom Christ scourged out of the Temple, the guardians of this edifice make use of His crucifixion and resurrection as a means of gain.  You may buy a piece of the stone covering the Holy Sepulchre, duly certified by the Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem, for about $7.  At Bethlehem, which I visited this morning, the Latin monk who showed us the manger, the pit where 12,000 innocents were buried, and other things, had much less to say of the sacredness or authenticity of the place, than of the injustice of allowing the Greeks a share in its possession.