It was of the older building that the Vicomte made the following remarks:--"The church of the Holy Sepulchre, composed of several churches erected upon an unequal surface, illumined by a multitude of lamps, is singularly mysterious; a sombre light pervades it, favourable to piety and profound devotion. Christian priests of various sects inhabit different parts of the edifice. From the arches above, where they nestle like pigeons, from the chapels below and subterraneous vaults, their songs are heard at all hours both of the day and night. The organ of the Latin monks, the cymbals of the Abyssinian priest, the voice of the Greek caloyer, the prayer of the solitary Armenian, the plaintive accents of the Coptic friar, alternately, or all at once, assail your ear. You know not whence these accents of praise proceed; you inhale the perfume of incense without perceiving the hand that burns it: you merely observe the pontiff, who is going to celebrate the most awful of mysteries on the very spot where they were accomplished, pass quickly by, glide behind the columns, and vanish in the gloom of the temple. "Christian readers will perhaps inquire what were my feelings upon entering this sacred place. I really cannot tell. So many reflections rushed at once upon my mind, that I was unable to dwell upon any particular idea. I continued nearly half an hour upon my knees in the little chamber of the Holy Sepulchre, with my eyes riveted upon the stone, from which I had not the power to turn them. One of the two monks who accompanied me remained prostrate on the marble by my side, while the other, with the Testament in his hand, read to me by the light of the lamps the passages relating to the sacred tomb. All I can say is that when I beheld this triumphant Sepulchre, I felt nothing but my own weakness; and that when my guide exclaimed with St. Paul, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? I listened, as if death were about to reply that he was conquered and enchained in this monument. Where shall we look in antiquity for anything so impressive, so wonderful, as the last scenes described by the Evangelists? These are not the absurd adventures of a deity foreign to human nature: it is a most pathetic history,--a history which not only extorts tears by its beauty, but whose consequences, applied to the universe, have changed the face of the earth. I had just beheld the monuments of Greece, and my mind was still profoundly impressed with their grandeur; but how far inferior were the sentiments which they excited to those I felt at the sight of the places commemorated in the gospel!"[93]