The Terusalim courtyard burned down not long ago. How many surviving rooms in the high tower5, on the hill, and the sky-high church now make up the entire structure of this monastery. I found Patr1arch sitting in the middle of the room, on the carpet. It was lined with pillows on which she leaned. His room was filled with roses and jasmines. An eighty-year old man with a rather long beard, the Patrarch still seemed quite fresh. Apologizing for not getting up, he said that as soon as he came from church, he had to climb almost a hundred steps to his mansion, and because of this he was extremely tired. Having blessed me, he asked me to make some bread for him, and then kindly and verbally chatted with me. I have rarely seen such a cordial and tidy old man. He asked me with curiosity about Rosesh, about our clergy; I also asked if I know their Archbishop in Moscow, who collects donations for the Church of the Savior in Terusalim5? Having satisfied his curiosity, I touched upon what I had heard, as if he had preserved many ancient and unknown manuscripts? He told me that there definitely was, but during the late afternoon there was a fire, and in a hurry to pick up the books, they threw them out of no order, into the large eunduks, where they lie undisassembled. “Yes, and that’s it,” he added. “Where should we mark them? “Why,” I asked again, “so many famous travelers, almost ours, after a thorough search, say that in Constantinople, in the Aeon monasteries, and on the Sinai Gorf, there are no more manuscripts?— “On the Sinai Gorf there are definitely none,” said the Patrarch, “but in the Deon monasteries you can still find how many ancient gospels, psalms and service books; Of course, you won’t find pagan manuscripts, such as Greek poets or historians. In Koistantinople there were many of them in the Patraarchal library5, but due to frequent fires - especially during the post-day - they were all destroyed, and then very recently. “As for me,” added the Patrarch, “I consider myself happy that I was able to catch it.” Still keep a few of these.” He was very sorry that he could not show me anything, because all his books, without any order, were piled up in chests, so that in a whole month you would not find, perhaps, anything worthy of attention! - “But why, His Holiness Patrarch, did all the travelers say so affirmatively that there are no Manuscrites?” - Because we don’t want to tell them to Catholics, and in order to get rid of them, we always say that we have no manuscripts. How are you? We would gladly tell them to the Russian, as one of our own, if you gave your word not to tell anyone about it; but now, unfortunately, I am not able to fulfill this either.» For a long time we talked about Sherusalim and the situation of the Christian churches since Syria was under the rule of Mohammed-Ali. The Patriarch told me that although there was no special patronage and NFT, the impudence of the lower officials, who previously robbed and took advantage of monasteries and visiting pilgrims, has now ceased; that, at least, the Christians live quite calmly, and that Ibrahim Tsasha, when complaints reach him, judges everyone fairly and impartially. “I said goodbye to the venerable old man. He hugged me and gave me Bostra t tobacco, very edible, (°) Boegra, the capital city of Kamsinehoy Aravsh, and Jerusalem soap. Much more precious to me was his other gift: a rosary, lying on the Holy Sepulcher throughout Holy Week. In conclusion, Natrarch blessed me. I was very touched by his kindness and hospitable hospitality. I maintain true respect and filial love for him.
After this, having reported to the Patarchs, I also examined several Greek churches, and, by the way, one near the Pearl Tower, Indzhuli-Jokbosk. Within the very walls of the Seraglio there is a spring of holy water in the name of the Savior, Myazma-Tu Sotiros, to which the Greeks have great faith. It is known that Tzimiskhai, after the victory over Svyatoslav, built the temple of the Savior in the walls of his palace, called Khalka. This key was located there, and from it it is now easy to determine the location of the palace of the Greek Emperors.
The entrance to the small temple, where the key is now, is from the outer wall, in a narrow alley: a Turk lives here, who, for a small fee, gives holy water to the Greeks who come for it. I found him sleeping; but he immediately got up, gave me a cup of water, pointed to the ancient image of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker (I don’t know why he was there), took the tent from me, and, coolly, immediately went back to sleep.