The fiery and impetuous Greeks, enthusiastic in all their feelings—in religion, in love, in hate, and in ambition—did not, in the present instance, confine themselves so scrupulously as an European congregation would have done, to the space assigned to them—half a dozen wild, bandit-looking individuals clambered into the pulpit—a score more clung to the steps—those who chanced to be nearest to the vacated stalls of the Bishops appropriated them without ceremony—others hung by the pillars which supported the gallery—and thus sufficient space was with difficulty ensured by the panting beadles for the passage of the procession. At this moment, I followed my friend from the church, and, four or five sturdy servants having with considerable effort forced a way for us to the Patriarch’s Palace, we hastened to take possession of his private sitting-room, which, as it overlooked the enclosure in which the church was situated, and where the procession was to halt, he had politely offered, in order to secure the gratification of my curiosity. The night was one of beauty. The pale moon was riding high among masses of fleecy clouds, which were pillowed upon the deep blue of the sky, forming towers, and palaces, and islets, so changeful and fleeting, that they looked like the ephemeral creations of fairy-land. A lofty and leafy plane tree, whose foliage had newly burst beneath the soft influence of spring, was sighing gently in the midnight wind; and the long dark outline of the monastic buildings, and the slanting roof of the church, loomed out in the faint moonlight, with a mysterious depth of shadow well suited to the solemnity of the hour. The wide doors of the sacred edifice suddenly fell back—the low chant of the choir swelled upon the night air—and forth rushed the eager crowd that had so lately thronged the church; each with his lighted taper in his hand, and pressing forward to a raised platform in the centre of the enclosure, railed in for the convenience of the Patriarch and his train of dignitaries. Ere long, the whole of the wide space was like a sea, in which the dark waves flung themselves upwards in fiery sparks, while they rolled and swelled in gloom beneath the surface—or like a spot upon a sky of tempest, into which were gathered all the stars of heaven to form one galaxy of light amid the surrounding gloom. And forth into this place of brightness slowly moved the holy train from the chapel. First came the bearer of the golden crucifix, surrounded by gilded lanterns and gleaming candlesticks; and next the torch-bearers, whose waxen candles, linked together in threes with gaudily-coloured ribbons, represented the Trinity; then moved forward a train of priests, walking two and two, with their flowing robes of saffron-coloured satin, their luxuriant beards sweeping down to their breasts, their brimless caps, and their long locks falling upon their shoulders.