CHAPTER XXVII. 
THE GREEK BISHOP. 
Before leaving Baalbek I went to the Greek convent to 
have a social chat with the patriarch, who was represented 
to be a very hospitable and intelligent man. It is situated 
down toward the lower part of the town, not far from the 
Temple of Santa Barbara. The entrance is through a dilap¬ 
idated court-yard, which serves as a sort of caravanserai for 
camels and mules ; and the convent is little better than the 
rest of the hovels around it, except that it is larger and 
higher. There is a church attached to it of ancient and 
ruinous appearance, with a few tawdry ornaments and mis¬ 
erable pictures in the interior. A Greek monk, who acted as 
our cicerone, told us that this church contained the most val¬ 
uable relic of any church in Syria; that it was not commonly 
exhibited to strangers, but he would take the liberty of show¬ 
ing it to our excellencies. Having thus excited our curiosity, 
he proceeded, with great caution and solemnity, to draw 
back some small black curtains that covered a hole in the 
wall, and by degrees revealed to us the hole, which was cased 
around with a black frame and covered with a pane of glass ; 
but I candidly confess I could see nothing in it, nor could I, 
after the most persevering inquiries all round, ascertain that 
any body else had seen any thing, or that there was any thing 
there to be seen. It was a good deal like some of the won¬ 
derful things one is called upon to admire now and then in 
Italy—-you go a great way to see them, and are expected to 
be in raptures, but for your life you can’t find out what all 
the talk is about; there is nothing to be seen. We paid a 
piastre, however, for the information, and I would recom- 
