This sacred fire appears in the tomb of the Holy Sepulchre precisely at two o’clock in the afternoon of the Saturday before Easter. On the morning of that day all of the lights of the church are put out, and the people stand for hours and wait for the great event. There are holes in the walls of the Sepulchre itself, and through these the candles of believers are passed to the Patriarch of Jerusalem, who is inside. He lights them with the sacred flame as soon as it appears and hands them out burning. Other candles are lighted from these, and runners carry the holy fire all over Palestine, to Bethlehem and to Nazareth, and to the Sea of Galilee. The night before the miracle hundreds sleep in different chapels and in the rotunda, in order to hold good places for the morrow, and during the day the churches are thronged to such an extent that people are often injured by the crush. In the morning everyone has a bunch of candles in his hand. There are ten thousand dozens of candles in the crowd, and all are to be lighted within an hour with fire from heaven, as they believe. When the ceremonies begin, the Greek Patriarch and his bishops in gorgeous dresses march three times round the Sepulchre with banners, praying. They ask God to send down the fire, and their march is preceded by a flag and a cross. There is chanting and crossing, and then the Copts follow their Ethiopian Patriarch, gorgeous in his gold cap and gown. Now there is silence, and the only sound is that of the squeezing mass as it breathlessly watches. The Patriarch has entered the Sepulchre, and the fire is expected from heaven. No one seems to suspect that it comes from his matches, and the scratching, if there be any, is not heard. It appears to be all dark within the walls of the Sepulchre. Suddenly there is a great shout. A faint light shines out through the holes. The soldiers struggle to keep the crowd back. Men with whips push this way and that, making roads through the mass which the soldiers try to keep clear. The priests stand at the holes in the walls, and great bunches of candles are passed in. They are handed out lighted, and fleet runners seize them and dash to the various chapels. The Copt chapel at the back of the Sepulchre flames with lights, and in less time than it takes for me to write this sentence, the whole of the mass below me is a blaze of fire. Every man, woman, and child holds a lighted candle, and many are hauled up by strings from one gallery to the other. A priest creeps along the roof of the chapel of the Sepulchre. He lights the hundreds of lamps and candles upon its edges; and as I look over it I see that the Greek chapel beyond now blazes with thousands of coloured lights. The lamps over the whole of the great church are burning. The smoke comes up in great clouds, and the air is perceptibly warmer. It is just seven minutes by my watch since the first candle was lighted, and in fifteen minutes the sacred fire will be all over Jerusalem.