In the afternoon we went to see “Mary’s Well,” on the road to Tabarith, at a short distance from Nazareth.  This well is fenced round with masonry, and affords pure clear water.  Hither, it is said, the Virgin came every day to draw water, and here the women and girls of Nazareth may still be daily seen walking to and fro with pitchers on their shoulders.  Those whom we saw were all poorly clad, and looked dirty.  Many wore no covering on their head, and, what was far worse, their hair hung down in a most untidy manner.  Their bright eyes were the only handsome feature these people possessed.  The custom of wearing silver coins round the head also prevailed here.

To-day was a day of misfortunes for me; in the morning, when we departed from Lagun, I had already felt unwell.  On the road I was seized with violent headache, nausea, and feverish shiverings, so that I hardly thought I should be able to reach Nazareth.  The worst of all this was, that I felt obliged to hide my illness, as I had done on our journey to Jerusalem, for fear I should be left behind.  The wish to view all the holy places in Nazareth was also so powerful within me, that I made a great effort, and accompanied the rest of my party for the whole day, though I was obliged every moment to retire into the background that my condition might not be observed.  But when we went to table, the smell of the viands produced such an effect upon me, that I hastily held my handkerchief before my face as though my nose were bleeding, and hurried out.  Thanks to my sunburnt skin, through which no paleness could penetrate, no one noticed that I was ill.  The whole day long I could eat nothing; but towards evening I recovered a little.  My appetite now also returned, but unfortunately nothing was to be had but some bad mutton-broth and an omelette made with rancid oil.  It is bad enough to be obliged to subsist on such fare when we are in health, but the hardship increases tenfold when we are ill.  However, I sent for some bread and wine, and strengthened myself therewith as best I might.

June 15th.

Thanks be to Heaven, I was to-day once more pretty well.  In the morning I could already mount my horse and take part in the excursion we desired to make to

Tabarith.

Passing Mary’s Well and a mountain crowned by some ruins, the remains of ancient Canaan, we ride for about three miles towards the foot of Mount Tabor, the highest summit of which we do not reach for more than an hour.  There were no signs of a beaten road, and we were obliged to ride over all obstacles; a course of proceeding which so tired our horses, that in half an hour’s time they were quite knocked up, so that we had to proceed on foot.  After much toil and hardship, with a great deal of climbing and much suffering from the heat, we gained the summit, and were repaid for the toil of the ascent, not only by the reflection that we stood on classic ground, but also by the beautiful view which lay spread