It was five o’clock on a bright spring morning when, attended by a solitary guide, I descended the Vale of Nablous to where the valley widens, and began to ascend the Mount of Cursing. The sun was just peering over the hills of Ephraim, transforming the dew-drops into sparkling jewels, and awakening the matin notes of unnumbered songsters. In an hour we gained the summit; and though the horizon was misty, limiting the view, the familiar peaks of Moab rose above the fog-clouds like islands in the ocean. The sides of Ebal are rough, and its summit broad and stony. A solitary goat-path leads over the mountain to the valleys beyond. Shepherds were roving with their flocks in quest of pasture, and peasants were hastening to their daily toil. The attritions of time and the sacrilegious hand of plunder have destroyed the altar Joshua reared to Jehovah. From its highest peak a noble view is obtained of the fertile hills and valleys to the east, and of the lofty Tellûzeh, the renowned Tirzah, whose beauties Solomon has embalmed in immortal song,[491] and which was once the rival of Shechem as the seat of royalty.[492] Returning to Nablous, we passed out of the western gate to ascend the Mount of Blessings. At the portal stood a group of lepers, perhaps the descendants of Gehazi, who was cursed with the leprosy of Naaman.[493] Poor creatures, how sad they looked! Their ulcered faces, dull, restless eyes, languid, husky voices, and tattered garments presented a mournful spectacle of fallen humanity. Excluded from society like those of Jerusalem, they live distinct, to grieve, rot, and die in their wretched hovels. Standing afar off and arranging themselves in a semicircle, twenty men and women, in tones of pity, asked our charities. No sight among living things that meets the traveler’s eye recalls the days of the benevolent Savior so vividly as the appearance of lepers. Perhaps it was in this same city that “there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off. And they lifted up their voices and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”[494] Distributing bread among the poor creatures, we turned to the left and began the ascent. Our path led up a glen of rare beauty, and from a ridge to the south of the town we looked down upon the noble site of the city stretching nearly across the valley, and from amid palms and trees of exquisite foliage rose domes and minarets. Just above the ridge, in a sequestered spot, is the large fountain of ’Asal. Its clear waters, being first gathered into immense troughs, are then conducted by an aqueduct to a mill, from which they flow down the hill-side into a quiet dell rich with shrubs and flowers. Crossing the stream, we followed the path trodden by many ancient pilgrims, and passed through groves of figs and almonds, in the branches of which birds were singing merrily. Here the hill-sides were terraced, supporting groves of fruit-trees and also vineyards. Beyond