never have varied much.[2] The cold there is
sharp in winter, and the climate very healthy. The town, like all the
small Jewish towns at this period, was a heap of huts built without
style, and would exhibit that harsh and poor aspect which villages in
Semitic countries now present. The houses, it seems, did not differ
much from those cubes of stone, without exterior or interior elegance,
which still cover the richest parts of the Lebanon, and which,
surrounded with vines and fig-trees, are still very agreeable. The
environs, moreover, are charming; and no place in the world was so
well adapted for dreams of perfect happiness. Even in our times
Nazareth is still a delightful abode, the only place, perhaps, in
Palestine in which the mind feels itself relieved from the burden
which oppresses it in this unequaled desolation. The people are
amiable and cheerful; the gardens fresh and green. Anthony the Martyr,
at the end of the sixth century, drew an enchanting picture of the
fertility of the environs, which he compared to paradise.[3] Some
valleys on the western side fully justify his description. The
fountain, where formerly the life and gaiety of the little town were
concentrated, is destroyed; its broken channels contain now only a
muddy stream. But the beauty of the women who meet there in the
evening--that beauty which was remarked even in the sixth century, and
which was looked upon as a gift of the Virgin Mary[4]--is still most
strikingly preserved. It is the Syrian type in all its languid grace.
No doubt Mary was there almost every day, and took her place with her
jar on her shoulder in the file of her companions who have remained
unknown. Anthony the Martyr remarks that the Jewish women, generally
disdainful to Christians, were here full of affability. Even now
religious animosity is weaker at Nazareth than elsewhere.

[Footnote 1: Mark vi. 3.]

[Footnote 2: According to Josephus (_B.J._, III. iii. 2), the smallest
town of Galilee had more than five thousand inhabitants. This is
probably an exaggeration.]

[Footnote 3: _Itiner._, Sec. 5.]

[Footnote 4: Ant. Martyr, _Itiner._, Sec. 5.]

The horizon from the town is limited. But if we ascend a little the
plateau, swept by a perpetual breeze, which overlooks the highest
houses, the prospect is splendid. On the west are seen the fine
outlines of Carmel, terminated by an abrupt point which seems to
plunge into the sea. Before us are spread out the double summit w