Elisama was seated on his horse, his mind full of the glory of Israel which was about to be revealed; in the midst of the bitterness against the heathens, which was become a necessary excitement to his aged heart, and the inward ill-will which he harboured against Myron, he rejoiced in the triumph which he had gained over him by his narrative, which had been so complete, as to force the Greek, at last, to assent to the praises of Israel. Myron’s feelings were of a very mixed kind, and some of them far from being pleasant. He felt the Jewish pride in all its force, and was perpetually tempted to keep it within bounds, by applying to it the keen edge of Attic wit. Yet when he reflected on the other hand, that the society of these Jews had enabled him to pass his time more pleasantly and instructively, than he would have done among the Phœnicians, and that the journey was now at an end, he thought it was not worth while to offend them, and so held his peace. He had a further reason for not wishing to come to a rupture with his fellow-travellers, that he might not lose the invitation to Jerusalem upon which he reckoned. For, notwithstanding all that was offensive to him, he could not but acknowledge, that the Jews were a people in the highest degree remarkable, and he had a great curiosity to see what they were in their native land, where he had often been told they could alone be fairly judged of. With these feelings they came late at night to Gaza. Elisama, while the tents were erecting, paid the conductor of the caravan the sum agreed upon for the journey. As he intended, according to the ancient custom of his people, to make the journey to the passover on foot, he had already bargained with some one in the caravan for the purchase of the horses. They reposed for some hours, and rose again before the dawn.