It is not so much the distance, though that is great, nor the
climate, which has its dangers, but, you understand, with her peculiar
views, her very strict----' The duke did not care to finish his
sentence.
'Nor, my dear father,' continued Lord Montacute, 'though I did not like
to interrupt you when you were speaking with so much solicitude and
consideration for me, is it exactly travel, in the common acceptation of
the term, that I feel the need of. I wish, indeed, to leave England; I
wish to make an expedition; a progress to a particular point; without
wandering, without any intervening residence. In a word, it is the Holy
Land that occupies my thought, and I propose to make a pilgrimage to the
sepulchre of my Saviour.'
The duke started, and sank again into his chair. 'The Holy Land! The
Holy Sepulchre!' he exclaimed, and repeated to himself, staring at his
son.
'Yes, sir, the Holy Sepulchre,' repeated Lord Mon-tacute, and now
speaking with his accustomed repose. 'When I remember that the Creator,
since light sprang out of darkness, has deigned to reveal Himself to His
creature only in one land, that in that land He assumed a manly form,
and met a human death, I feel persuaded that the country sanctified by
such intercourse and such events must be endowed with marvellous and
peculiar qualities, which man may not in all ages be competent
to penetrate, but which, nevertheless, at all times exercise an
irresistible influence upon his destiny.
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