A few days afterwards, we were riding across the hills from Bethlehem to Solomon’s Pools. Our path lay by the side of the rude old aqueduct. This is merely a trough of undressed stone, sunk to the level of the surface of the ground, on the sides of the hills it winds its way among, for about five miles, from the Pools to the town. The sinking of the aqueduct just to the level of the surface, was a way of saving it from the risks of being knocked over, or of falling to pieces, that was as wise as it was simple. If it had been raised above the ground, or buried in it, whenever it got out of order, the repair of damages would have been difficult and costly. Originally it was carried on, five miles further, to Jerusalem. We had, in our ride, reached the spot where the large-hearted king (who, like Aristotle, Bacon, and Humboldt, had seen that all knowledge was connected) had, probably, his Botanical Gardens, in which he cultivated some of the plants he wrote about; and the _genius loci_ had just brought into my mind, his request, suggested to him, perhaps, by the interest he took in the fruit he was growing up here, ‘To be comforted with apples, for that he was sick of love,’ when we came suddenly on a party of women washing clothes. If the daughters of Bethlehem were as good-looking in Solomon’s time as they are in ours, it, we can imagine, must have strengthened his favourable disposition towards the place; and may go some way towards accounting for the aqueduct. Though, indeed, this seems a little inconsistent with his preference for apples. That, however, may have been only a temporary feeling, or, it may have been the expression of his latest and more matured experience. But, as to those daughters of Bethlehem now in the flesh, whom we had come upon, while so usefully and creditably employed. They were much amused, as it appeared, at having been caught in such an occupation, and were laughing merrily. My young friend, as might have been expected of him, endeavoured to increase the merriment; this he did by leaning over his saddle, and saying, ‘Ateeni bosa.’ Had he spoken in English—though, of course, nothing of the kind could ever have been said by him in our downright tongue—the words would have been ‘Give me a kiss.’ The one, to whom he appeared more particularly to address himself, blazed up with instantaneous indignation, just like the girl of Bethany. With angry glance, and fierce tone, she exclaimed, ‘May your lips be withered first.’ But now I felt no apprehensions. My only thought was, that if we came back the same way, and should, by accident, find her alone, she would then, perhaps, hold out her hand, and say, ‘Your lips are a garden of roses: give backsheesh.’ CHAPTER VI. ANTIQUITY AND CHARACTER OF THE PYRAMID CIVILIZATION. The riddle of the world.—POPE.