Rain and Want of Rain

Jerusalem, Wednesday, Feb. 27. — Still the rain pours, so that I got no ramble this morning. The inhabitants greatly rejoice in these showers, though we may grumble. But still “the latter rain” has not come; and all are eagerly desiring it, for, if it does not come soon, a poor harvest is feared. The rain that has been falling these two days is much too scanty to be called the latter rain, though this is its season. The cisterns are still unfilled, and the Kedron is dry. The day of festival at the overflow of Bir Eyub must be postponed. How dependent is Pales ti. le on the showers of heaven! It has no Nile to overflow, and few fountains to give forth their perennial waters.

In the afternoon, I availed myself of another opportunity of visiting the mosque. A large party was go-Jerusalem’s heaps. ing, and I was not unwilling to form one of their number. I need not re-describe the scenes and sites; but the revisiting was of great use in enabling me to examine the different parts more minutely. It helped also, of course, to engrave the whole more deeply upon the memory. It was even more interesting than that of the previous day, though I saw nothing which I had not then seen.

Jerusalem, Thursday, Feb. 28. — Went out to walk a little after seven. The morning was cloudy, but the rain was “over and gone.” As I wished to see the result of two days’ rain, I went to the Birket es-Sultan (King’s pool), or Lower Pool of Gihon, as it is called, at which you cross the upper part of the valley, below Nebi Daud. The pool is not remarkable, save for its size, which is considerable. Whether the name “royal pool” be a relic of Solomon and Hezekiah, or a mere Mahommedan designation, I do not know. There was no water in any part of it. Passing over the bridge, or bank, with its low parapet and outstanding gateway in the centre, at the right, I looked for water, but there was none. I then proceeded farther down the valley, but all was dry. On my way down, I marked the masses of rubbish upon the slopes of Zion, out of which the olives seemed springing. It is impossible to guess at the depth of the debris, which covers every part of the hill, though it does not seem rolled down into the valley.* These

* The stones of Samaria are quite different. They have been “rolled down into the valley,” (Mic. i. 6). So that the “foundations are dis-AKELDAMA AND JBIR EYUB.

are the heaps in which Jerusalem has been laid, according to the word of the Lord, (Psa. lxxix. 1; Jer. ix. 11).

I examined again the rocks, at the foot of the valley, below Akeldama. They do not form quite an unbroken precipice. There are hollows, grassy hollows, indenting its surface here and there; and the surface of these is in some places considerably moist, as if some tiny rill were trickling down. On the sides of one of these, I gathered some moss, a rare thing in the east. It was, however, nothing but common British moss. Yet it did not on that account look the less beautful.

I reached Bir Eyub, a twenty minutes walk from the Jaffa gate, at which I had come out. I peered in and about, in all directions, climbing in at the broken gateway, and looking in by its small peaked arches that seem like windows of a castle; but the rain had as yet made no difference, save that there was a little water in an adjacent pool or hollow. There were no symptoms of the well’s overflow. From it I went farther down the valley, admiring the freshness of the ever-green olives that sprinkled it. If fully cultivated and planted, how beautiful would this hollow be; quite the Taset-el-Kuds, the cup of J erusalem, at least the green bottom of that cup, of which the king’s paradise forms the flowery sides. After a little I turned back and walked up the bed of the Kedron, towards the Kefr Selwdn (the village

covered f whereas the heaps of Jerusalem remain upon the hill, and the foundations are hidden; being buried under the rubbish.

MISS cooper’s institution. of Siloam). The first part of the bed of the brook was strewed with rubbish and stones; then there was bare rock, which rose up into a perpendicular wall some few feet high. On my left were the king’s gardens, with their soil already dry, though here and there, there were traces of the rain. The bed of the brook was wholly unmoistened.

In the forenoon we went to Miss Cooper’s training institution for Jewesses, with which we were very highly pleased. It was one of the most interesting institutions we had seen in Jerusalem. We visited all the different departments, sewing, knitting, spinning, &c, and greatly liked the aspect of the workers as well as of the school, if we may call it so. It is well-planned and well-conducted; and though its main object is industrial, it is not the less missionary in its aim, the Bible being read during the time of work. By means of this, Jewesses are trained to be good wives and mothers, good daughters and sisters; while they are brought into daily contact with the Word of truth, as well as with living Christianity. It claims the warm support of British Christians.*

In the afternoon we set out for an excursion with Mr Nicolayson. Leaving by the Jaffa gate we took a north-westerly direction, and soon found ourselves at the Hills of Ashes.-f- We rode round them, and we rode over

* See the Jerusalem Miscellany for November 1856, p. 80. t I visited these mounds four or five times, examining them in all directions. Mr Bailey, subsequently, had the kindness to measure them for

MOUNDS OF ASHES.

them, examining them on all sides. They are three in number, the highest of which may be upwards of thirty feet high, the others less than half that height.; They spread out widely on all sides, and cover a considerable breadth of ground. On the surface they are of a dull grey colour, earthy in their appearance, and beaten hard by the weather. It is said that no verdure is known to grow upon them. Under the surface they are whiter in colour, not unlike common ashes of wood or coal. They are not in layers or strata; but seem as if caked into lumps, some of which are as small as a sparrow’s egg, while others are as large as the egg of an ordinary fowl. These lumps are made up of small roundish nodules, not larger than turnip seeds, most of which contain as a nucleus a very small atom of charcoal, hardly perceptible, save with a magnifying glass. The present is evidently not the natural state of the mass, but is the result apparently of fire and water; and is precisely what would be produced by a block or blocks of limestone having been subjected to intense disintegrating heat, and then rained upon for years. Suppose one of the great towers of the city had stood here, that it had been set on fire, and after having been subjected to intense heat, had crumbled down so as to become a mass of burnt debris; that instead of the ruins being removed,

me. The first is about 130 yards long, 10 broad, and 10 high. The second is about 60 yards long, 60 broad, and from 25 to 30 in height. The third is a very small one. In Tobler’s map they are marked as “Schutthiigel,” rubb5sh-hill.

WHAT ARE THEY?

or the tower rebuilt, the whole were allowed to remain untouched by ought save wind and rain, there would be presented just such a mound or mounds as we see in these hills of ashes. That they are the remains of any of the celebrated towers, I do not say; but there is nothing to prevent this being the case, as the third wall seems to have extended much farther than some would have it do, and could not be far off, to say no more, from these mounds.

But until regular excavation take place, and a broad trench be driven through them, we are not in circumstances to determine the question of their formation. We can dig up a handful or two of ashes, as I did, bring them home, and analyse them, and thus far learn the composition of the mass as it stands at present. But this analysis is only one step towards the answer of the interesting question, what are these mounds, and how came they here?

They are not likely to be soapers’ ashes. There is no evidence of any extensive soap-works being carried on in Jerusalem; * and even though they were, these mounds are far too large to have been formed by their refuse. Our largest British manufactories, such as Liverpool, Runcorn, London, Glasgow, Leith, would not accumulate such hills in the course of many years, and each of these manufactures at least a thousand times more of the article than J erusalem ever did. Soapers’

* There have been soap-works in Jerusalem in past times. At present there are six of these.

ARE THEY TEMPLE ASHES?

ashes are very light and impalpable, sure to be blown about by wind and washed away by rain. Dr Robinson’s statement as to the Nablus mounds is too general to be founded on. It may turn out that they are really different from those at J erusalem. They have not been measured, nor examined, nor analysed.

As to their being the ashes from the altar of the temple, there is a difficulty. Not that the distance is really in itself too great, as Dr Robinson suggests.* They are little more than a quarter of a mile from the Damascus gate; and measuring by the scale in Tobler’s map of Jerusalem, they are just six Roman stadia, or three quarters of a mile, from the north-western angle of the temple wall. The distance wTould not be of so much consequence, were there not nearer places for their deposit, places where the temple refuse was usually carried.

But, first, there is a difficulty as to the composition of these mounds. There is no proof, from analysis, that they are the remains of animal matter. I brought home a sufficient quantity of them in a bag, and have had them carefully analysed by my friend Dr Richard-

* Vol. iii. p. 202 “‘A single historical circumstance would seem to put the matter at rest. Froni the time of Solomon to the Christian era, the city was bounded by the second wall; and it is quite improbable that the ashes of the altar would have been daily carried forth so far beyond that wall, as the distance of the present mounds from the Damascus gate.” The force of this reasoning is not aj parent. The fact stated as to the second wall does not set the matter at rest Three quarters of a mile was no great distance for “the hewers of wood and drawers of water” to carry heavier burdens than the altar ashes. son of Newcastle, whose analysis corresponds very much with that made in Liebig’s laboratory. I put the sample into his hands without mentioning any of the theories afloat as to the origin of the mounds. In giving me the analysis,* he thus writes: — “This is the composition of ordinary magnesian limestone. In the interior of several of the small round masses or concretions, fragments of charcoal may be observed, which appear to have served as a nucleus in their formation. The presence of these fragments of charcoal, and the general appearance of the sample, would suggest that it is not an ordinary geological deposit, but rather the produce of water charged with carbonic acid, percolating through a mass of burnt lime,” On receiving the above, I wrote, mentioning the theories as to the origin of the heaps. Dr Richardson replied: — “The mounds of ashes may have been the refuse of a soapery, which is chiefly carbonate of lime; but I incline to our previously expressed opinion, that they have resulted from the action of rain-water or burnt limestone. Chemically, there is not a trace of evidence to shew that they could have been the ashes of the sacrifices,” Of course, this is but negative proof; proof which is perhaps weakened by the certainty that ages of rain may have washed thoroughly out the phosphoric acid, which would have, with certainty, indicated an animal origin; proof which may be thought to be neutralized by the

* See Index, Ashes.

NEARNESS TO THE THIRD WALL.

discovery of pieces of burnt Lone.-* But still it is of importance to keep in mind that chemistry has failed to detect the one substance which would have proved them the remains of bone and flesh.

Again, they are much too near the third wall of the city, to have been allowed to remain as they are. Believing, as I do, that this wall must have come out quite in this direction, I cannot think that such refuse would have been permitted to be thrown out so near to it. To Solomon’s time, of course, this does not apply; but to the later days of the temple it does. If the wall

* See letter in Athenceum of May 5. 1853, as to the result of a visit to the Hill of Ashes in 1852: — “Digging both at the top and near the base of the largest heap, I was struck with the fact that the whole seemed homogeneous, there being no earth, stones, pottery, or rubbish of other kind, mixed with the grey -blue mould. This seemed unfavourable to the popular idea of their being formed from soap-boilers’ ashes. Continuing to dig, I was soon greatly interested to find among the ashes (which appeared to me to be animal, though I never had them analysed) small ‘portions of bone, strengthening my belief that I was surrounded by the remains of the burnt-offerings of Israel during a thousand years. But the proof appeared to amount to demonstration, when I discovered, a foot or more from the surface, fragments of lone, sufficiently large to leave no doubt of the animal to which they belonged. I have in my possession a number of specimens, among which is one three inches long, evidently the leg-bone of a sheep or lamb; another, a fragment of the skull or nose-bone; and two others, fragments of ribs, which it seems impossible to mistake for any other but the same an”mal. The first mentioned of these specimens has been charred or blackened by the action of fire.” The writer then remarks that this discovery may throw light on Jer. xxxi. 40, “The valley of the dead bodies, and of the ashes?’ He supposes that the hollow which would anciently exist between the wall and the Hill of Ashes, was this “Valley cf Ashes.” though the ruins have now filled up the hollo’.v. took a line quite through this spot, then, of course, any mounds then existing would have been swept away. Or if it even ran within a hundred yards of this spot, such unsightly masses would not have been allowed to remain. But especially the siege of Jerusalem must have levelled all such heaps. Not for a day would the J ews have allowed such eminences to continue, affording shelter to the besiegers, and foundations on which to erect their towers. Or if the Jew spared them because they were temple ashes, would Titus not have used them in his approaches to the city? If so, could they present the conical forms which now they do, and would not the erection of his enormous towers have reduced them to a very different shape? I need not, however, speak of one siege of Jerusalem? How often, from the days of Rehoboam downwards, has Jerusalem been besieged! And it is hardly conceivable that such sieges as Jerusalem has borne, — sieges in number and terribleness like those of no other city the world has ever known, — should have left these heaps untouched; that wall, tower, and battlement should have disappeared, and yet that these mounds of temple ashes should have remained unlevelled and untouched!

Again, we know that, up till the time of the siege by Titus, Jerusalem was fringed with gardens, extending a considerable way to the west and north of its walls. How far these gardens extended we do not know; but they must have gone much farther than these mounds of ashes; and it is not easy to believe that the refuse

ALTAR ASHES.

even of the temple would have been deposited here; or, if it had been so in earlier times when the city was smaller, that it should have been allowed to remain in the midst of the splendid gardens and erections that beautified this spot.

Jewish tradition does not help us here, though it frequently mentions the removal of the altar-ashes. This was done every morning just at dawn; on the three great festivals, sooner; and on the day of atonement the work was begun at midnight. It formed so regular a part of the daily work in the temple, and the traditions respecting it are so minute and explicit, that we rather wonder at the non-mention of the place where the ashes were deposited. Yet all that we are told is, that they were carried beyond the city, into a sheltered place, that the wind might not scatter them, and that none might use them afterwards for any purpose.* I suspect that the present mounds are in a place too elevated and exposed to fulfil these conditions. They are, besides, a considerable way from the temple, and the whole city would require to be traversed in order to reach this place; a most serious matter, and one which would involve a much greater amount of time and labour than we are apt to suppose. When I stood upon the mounds and saw the dome of the mosque, apparently so near, I did not feel the force of the objection, but when I measured the distance, and made some calculations as to the

* See Cramer, Dessert, de Ara, vi. 11; and Lightfoot’s Temple Service, chap. ix.

amount of refuse to be carried out, I began to see that it had more weight than I at first gave to it. All the other refuse of the temple was thrown out into some hollow quite at hand, to save time and labour. And it would seem as if the valleys of the Kedron and Hinnom, which the temple overhangs, had just been made for its sewerage.

I have given up the idea of these mounds being the produce of the temple ashes, very reluctantly, and shall be glad to be refuted. When I walked round them and over them, as I often did, or dug into them with my staff, I was pleased with the thought that here were the relics of Israel’s burnt-sacrifice for ages; and it was with no small unwillingness that I have yielded to after-arguments.

One thing, however, I still believe, that somewhere in this neighbourhood the sin-offering was burnt. This, we know, was to be done “without the camp,” and it was on the north side of the altar that the sacrifices were to be slain,* so we may conclude that, in the case of that sacrifice which was to be beyond the precincts of the temple, the place of offering would be the north side of the city.

We next visited the Kehur-el-Kodhd or tombs of the

* Lev. i. 11; vi. 25; vii. 2.

f I am at a loss to know how some of these Arabic words are really to be spelt. This word Keburis by Robinson given Kabr, by Wilson Kabar, by Saulcy Qbour, by Dupuis Kubour. This is the case with several other words.

TCttIB 3 OF THE JUDGES.

Judges. These are not the tombs of Israel’s- ancient judges, as the name might intimate; but of the heads or presidents of the Sanhedrim. Whether in addition to the Nasi Beth-Din, or president, the A b Beth-Din, or vice-president (father) of the Sanhedrim, may have been laid in these tombs, we know not. The tombs are no common ones. Not so finely ornamented on the outside as the Keb&r el Moluk, they are more extensive

6* .V la” 20’ 30’ 40’

: i i i 1 1 1 i! i 1 1 1 1

and intricate in the interior, and their pediment exhibits a design of massive but simple elegance. We entered the vestibule by the large oblong doorway cut in the rock, and passed from this, over the rough stones ot the entrance, into the great square sepulchral chamber, by the narrow door in the rock-wall opposite to the main entrance. We noticed the tomb-niches in the sides, and the small doors leading into other chambers of this vast sepulchral crypt, but we did not go farther. The chambers and niches are numerous, we believe, but very much alike. There are, it is said, no less than sixty receptacles here for the dead, and in the lower storey preparations seem to have been making for adding to their number. Of this great rock-tomb history tells us nothing; only tradition has preserved the name by which it is identified with the earthly resting-place of the Judges.*

When first looking into these strange cells I was not much interested in them. They seemed like unknown graves over which the foot treads carelessly. Graves of the Nasi Beth-Din! What do I know about these men? The Jewish Sanhedrim is not a name which calls up much respect, associated as it is with hatred towards Jesus of Nazareth, and persecution of his disciples, with blindness and bigotry, and the decrepitude of an obsolete religion. Yet was not that court once a noble assembly? And were the true history of its members written, would it not, at least in the centuries before

* See De Saulcy, vol. ii. p. 243. Williams’ Holy City, vol. ii. p. 151. Dr Robinson’s Researches. Salzmann has given us a remarkably fine photographic view of the entrance. Paris, 1856.

THE SANHEDRIM.

Christ, appear as venerable as any Christian court or council, whether of Nice, or Ephesus, or Carthage, or Westminster? That circle of seventy-one seats, set in the great room Gazith, had in it many a great, and wise, and holy man; and it was out of yon central seat at the top that “the Judge” was transferred to this his narrow home at the extremity of the valley of Jehoshaphat. The niches here are empty; the sarcophagi are gone; no bones are here, nor even dust. Yet Ezra may have lain in one of these recesses; in another Simon the Just; in another Hillel of the seed of David; in another Gamaliel, the son of Simon; in another, — but I need not recount the names down till Gamaliel the son of Rabbi Judah died; when the title “Rabban” expired, and the Sanhedrim passed away. Like other creations of man it had done a good work as well as a bad one in its day. Its bigotry, its unbelief, its superstition, are embalmed in Rabbinism; its goodness, its faith, its wisdom, its majestic patriotism, have left their ashes in these now empty niches.

Leaving these venerable tombs we passed over the rough stony ground to the north, and crossing the broad depression or valley of the Kedron where it sweeps round to the west, found ourselves on the top of Scopus! On three sides at least the view is noble. Nebi Semwil towers to the west, the Dead Sea gleams in sunshine to the east; right before us to the south is the city, “beautiful for situation.” The mosque and the old castle are the prominent features of the city, shewing us that two at least of the striking objects in other ages, seen from this spot, must have been the Temple and u- the tower of David, builded for an armoury,” How distinctly you see the ridge of Zion rising above the other ridges on which the town is built!

Over this hill of history, the Zophim of the Rabbins, and the Scopus of Josephus, had passed the men of a hundred nations, since the day that the Rephaim took possession of the valley stretching below it to the south. Here the various streams from the north had met ere they poured down upon the city; friends or enemies, worshippers or blasphemers. The Babylonian, the Assyrian, the Persian, the Grecian, the Roman, the Christian, the Saracen, the Crusader had all been here, looking down, as we were doing, upon the strange city, which all so unaccountably coveted, and which each in turn was to gain and lose.

As Scopus is part of the Mount of Olives, we soon turn the almost imperceptible angle and cross the narrow depression between the two hills. The view continues much the same; but the central part of Olivet is considerably higher than Scopus. Having satisfied our eye with the view, we took the way to Bethany, — the upper road, — a road more direct, and evidently from its position, quite as old as the lower. Over this David * would pass when he fled from Absalom, for we read that he took the top of the hill, probably because it was the shorter way, and because he could not so easily be attacked upon it. And, besides, he seems to have wished

BETHANY IN THE DISTANCE.

to worship on the hill-top before bidding farewell to his city. Whether the Lord passed this wray or not, we have no means of knowing.

The Moslem village here with its minaret does not attract the eye. And the Church of the Ascension has been built in such ignorance of the real spot of the ascension, that the idea or fact which it is meant to embody and perpetuate loses its power. The ascension seems more real anywhere else than within sight of this misplaced Christian church.

We passed down, amid the various fruit-trees that sprinkled the eastern side of the hill, to Bethany. As the afternoon was far advanced, and the clouds were beginning to threaten, we did not enter the village, but contented ourselves with a view of it from a wooded knoll, not a stone’s cast off. It looked very lovely, nestling so quietly in its wooded dell, like on»3 of its own turtle-doves. It is the picture of seclusion and holy peace. We hope to revisit it soon, and to wander through the other wooded slopes and hollows which lie around it, and give to the whole of the eastern side of the hill, the aspect of such rich but quiet beauty.

We now moved more quickly, as the rain was beginning to fall. We took the lower road, winding round the shoulder of the hill, and so completing our circuit It was a most pleasant day. Nor was the fellowship of Mr Nicolayson the least of our enjoyment. Full of general as well as local information, he formed a most agreeable companion, and a most trusty guide. Thirty

M II JS’1C0LAY£0N.

years residence in Jerusalem Lad given him full acquaintanceship with all its localities, and no one could be readier than he to impart his information to others. Frequently we saw him during our stay in the city, and each interview increased our esteem and affection. As wise as he was zealous; as laborious as he was fervent; as honest and faithful as he was loving and friendly; as sincere and single-eyed as he was calm and decided: his life was a daily blessing to Jerusalem, and his death no common blow. Loved by his brethren, and specially by the converts of the mission, revered by all sects, and hated only by one; Jew, Moslem, Greek, Armenian, Copt, — all but the Latin bigot, — gathered round his bier, and laid him in his tomb on Mount Zion, to awake with Israel’s patriarchs, prophets, and kings, at the resurrection of the just.*

Jerusalem, February 29th. — Went out before seven by the Jaffa gate, and passed up the height to the westward of the city. Sat down upon a rock above the Moslem burying-ground, the city before me, with its slight, thin waves of morning-smoke; for even in the east the dawn does bring with it the kindling of fires; though all the fires in Jerusalem did not seem to send up as much smoke as one of our Scottish villages. How one misses here the village-smoke of dawn and

* See a sermon preached on the occasion of the death of Mr Nicolayson by the Rev. J. B. Cartwright. London, 1857. The appendix, containing letters from Dr Macgowan, Mr Hefter, Mr Crawford, and Mr Bailey, is full of interest.

THE GROTTO CALLED JEREMIAH’S.

sunset, the cheerful token of glad family life within, round the hearth and board. Kephaim to the right, Scopus to the left, Olivet in front, beyond the city; stillness over all; only broken by the chirp of the bird at hand, or the distant fellah, shouting to his neighbour or his flock. You don’t hear the shepherd’s or the ploughman’s song. The Arabs sung in the desert, sometimes as they marched along during the day, and sometimes at night as they sat round the blaze of their shrub-fire. But they don’t seem to sing alone. The ploughman does not “whistle to his steers,” nor the shepherd sing to his flock upon the mountain side, or under the shadow of the rock.

I went to the upper pool, or Birket-el-Mamilla, which lies about six hundred yards, almost due west of the J af£a gate. I found very little water in it; nor did the little that was there seem inviting. From this I turned eastward along by Jeremiah’s grotto. Church-fiction, not history, has placed the prophet here, and made him write his Lamentations here rather than in Egypt, Being at a considerable height on the eastern face of the perpendicular rock, it commands a fine view of the city, and might, no doubt, have formed a very suitable place of Lamentation. Both the rock and the grotto are peculiar. The former is the northern elevation or terminating spur of one of the hills on which J erusalem was built, probably Akra, as wTe shall see. The southern, or rather south-eastern, side of this has been cut away, for the face of the rock and the cave are clearly artificial. And as this face corresponds with a similar face or vertical cutting, north-eastward of the Damascus gate, upon which the modern wall is built, the inference is that this hill once rose directly above the city, till it was cut through, either for the sake of extending the city, or for some important object. The vertical section of this, seen at Jeremiah’s grotto, would indicate that it had been previously hollowed out in some parts; and if so, one might conclude this to have originally formed part of the great quarries (which I have elsewhere described) excavated beneath the city. A few careful measurements on the spot would shew how far there is probability in this conjecture.* Most topographers give this as part of the Hill Bezetha. I suspect that Bezetha lay further out, and that this is part of the top, or one of the heights, of Akra that we we see cut through. What may have been the actual height of the hill thus levelled we have no means of knowing. If the rock above Jeremiah’s grotto be conceded to have been the top, then there is no difficulty. But if, as I believe, this rock was the lower part of the northern extremity of Akra, then the rise of the hill may have been considerable, for the width of the cutting is about five hundred feet, and the length is nearly three times that space, affording room for a very great elevation, — an elevation which, especially if built upon or fortified, would overlook and command the temple; for

* Tobler’s map shews the connection between the two faces of rock very distinctly.

FIELDS OF KEDRON.

Mount Moriah is not much above a quarter of a mile from this*

The reason for such an enormous levelling is not easily conjectured. If this is not admitted to be the work of the Maccabees mentioned by Josephus, we know not what it is.

Passing eastward I soon came to the valley of the Kedron. Somewhere here, I suppose, is the place called “the fields of Kedron,” (2 Kings xxiii. 4), meaning the fields where the bed of the Kedron opens out and spreads itself into a broad hollow or valley. In this direction the outmost wall of the city must have extended, in order to include Bezetha. From this I went to the head of the steep bank, at the bottom of which lies Gethsemane, or at least the long rich hollow, now ploughed as a field, but which formerly has been a place of gardens, one of which was Gethsemane, — perhaps that one exactly at the foot of Olivet, where the slope of the hill comes right down from top to bottom. How still! No noise, nor even life at hand, save that small flock of sheep feeding without a shepherd. Sitting down I read some old hymns, plucked some olive-leaves, and placing them in my hymn-book, slowly returned to the city.

About nine, we went out with the Consul and his lady to the olive-plantation, lying westwards, which they are

* l)r Robinson’s map gives less than four hundred yards from the nearest angle of the Haram, to the wall north-eastward of the Damascus gate. cultivating, chiefly for the sake of giving work to the poor Jews. Its name is Kherim Khulil, “the vineyard of the beloved,” and it looks most promising. We were greatly interested in it, and were rejoiced to find that Israel had such friends in Palestine, friends of soul and body. An Israelite in his own land needs friends for the body; for who is poorer than he? With his thin, but still intellectual face, and his black ringlet shading his pale cheek, how famished he looks, how desolate! Yet he has found that he has a friend in Protestant England; and that to her Consul he may betake himself in want or trouble. Latin, Greek, and Moslem, despise and hate him.* Neither in Sultan nor in Emperor can he obtain a protector. The Continental priesthood grind their teeth at him even in the

* To be sure he returns their ill-will without stint. He scowls on the Moslem as an Ishmaelite; he reviles the Armenian as an Amalekite; he hates the Latin, not only as an idolater, but as the representative of the old Empire that had laid waste his city. (As the J ewish name for a Moslem is an Ishmaelite, — Chronicles of Rall’x Joseph, vol. i. p. 371, &c, — so the old Christian name for a Moslem was a Hagarene. — Hist, of William of Newburgh, b. 5, chap. 14.) The Jews name for Christendom is Edom. “Our captivity under the Mahommedans is far more burdensome and grievous than under the Christians; and so our ancients have said, It is better to dwell under Edom than Ismael.” — Manasseh Ben Israel’s Vindiciae Judaorum, sec. 10; Mendelssohn’s Jerusalem, by Samuels, vol. i. p. 13. But though the Jew frowns and hates he does no more. The Jew is not a persecutor; nor is he a proselytiser. He is not like the Moslem, a man of blood, who, if he could, would murder every Jew and Christian. It is long since the Jew has had the sword in his hand. His lot is not to tread down, but to he trodden down. He knows it and submits; but always with reference to the day when power and honour, a city and a kingdom will be his once more.

OLIVE PLANTING.

city of his fathers; and were it not that England would not permit the shame, we should still see the oppression, if not the persecution of the Jews. Christ fed the the body, while he sought the soul; and he is doing the truest missionary work who does both of these. Dr Mac-Gowan’s admirable hospital and the Consul’s agricultural plans, both at Kherim Khulil and Urtass, are proofs that the J erusalem mission has not lost sight of the example of the Lord.

The plantation here is of olives, which seem to flourish well, and to grow rapidly. We assisted in planting one, about six feet high. The ground seemed to us too stony to admit of growth, and we wondered that attempts were not made to blast the rock and clear away the stones. But olives, we learned, love “the place of stones,” for round them they “wrap their roots,” and under them they are sheltered from the heat. Hence the proximity to a rock is no disadvantage; and we were amazed to see the labourers, after pouring in water and throwing in a little soil, fill up the rest of the hole with stones. We saw with interest the well or cistern which had been made for receiving and retaining the rain-water, so like what we would suppose to have been formed in ancient times. With still greater interest, we saw the olive-press in an under-ground chamber, which had once been a Roman columbarium. The whole process of expressing the oil was explained; and we noticed the two different parts of the press, the upper and the lower, (as in the wine-press,) through

Friday’s shutting of the gates. 237

which the liquid is made to pass; the first a mere machine for crushing the olive-berries so as to force out their oil, the latter a close-plaited sieve of straw-work, like a large flattened beehive, through which the oil is pressed by machinery, so as to leave behind it all its grosser appendages.

About twelve o’clock, we left this interesting spot and sought our way back to the city. Its gates, however, were shut against us; so that, even though we had the Consul of England with us, we could get no admittance. It was Friday; and on that day, between eleven and one, Moslemism is assembled in the mosques; soldier and civilian being summoned to worship. Lest, therefore, a Frank army should take advantage of the hour of prayer and take possession of the city, the gates are locked. So we had to wait patiently on the outside. A considerable crowd had gathered, all like ourselves waiting for admittance. Here was a string of camels from Jaffa, loaded perhaps with fruit or fish; drivers and camels resting in the sunshine. Here was a similar group, with burdens of charcoal from the south. Young and old, in all the many-coloured garments of the east, were strolling about, or lying down, or talking to each other, with eloquent gesticulations. A poor half-witted man, of middle age, we noticed going about, quite at his ease, doing as he liked, nobody interfering, for insanity is reverenced as inspiration in the east. More than once he went to an open-air coffee-house, or at least coffee-stand, set up beneath the gate, for the refresh-AKELDAMA.

ment of travellers, and helped himself to coffee and bread at pleasure, the owner of the refreshment-box looking on complacently, as the poor idiot devoured his goods, without offering one parah in return. At length we heard voices and steps in the inside; the gate slowly opened, and after the outward flow of passengers or citizens had somewhat diminished, we made our way forward, reached our hotel, and rested for a little.

In the afternoon we visited Akeldama or Aceldama, with some of our Jerusalem friends. We examined minutely the many tombs of that rocky ridge. They are hewn out in the face of the different rocks that abut upon the high grassy shelf, which forms a raised platform running east and west, and looking down upon the ravine below. Olives are sprinkled here and there, and this broken, rocky ground, right in front of Mount Zion, forms as suitable a spot for a cemetery as we had seen. The tombs are numerous; some on the face of the projecting mass, others in some withdrawing nook; some merely hewn out of the hill, others built and adorned; some with very small apertures for entrance; others with doors which merely require a little stooping; some with inscriptions (much defaced), others bare. This has evidently been the original necropolis of the city. Some of these tombs are the excavations of the ancient possessors of the land. Kephaim, Jebusite, Jew, Greek, Roman, ‘Christian, — all, save Moslem, lie here. Salem, Jebus, Jerusalem, Aelia, the Holy City (though not El-Kuds), have their representative ashes here. One of these may be the tomb of Melchizedec, that other, of Araunah the J ebusite. The place is not used now. The Jews bury in what is called the valley of Jehoshaphat, as I have mentioned already; and the Moslems have four or five graveyards in different parts of the suburbs; none, of course, within the walls. Intramural burials are practices of the west, which the east has always (with very few exceptions) rejected.*

The sepulchres at the west end of the valley are the simplest as well as the smallest; it may be they are also the most ancient. This is the more likely, as these lie nearest to Mount Zion and the original city. At the eastern angle, where the valleys meet, the tombs are larger and more elaborate; some of them evidently of very much later date. We visited the large tomb in which so many remains are found. As I have already noticed this, I need not recur to it farther than to add, in a note, what I wrote regarding it on another occasion.-f-

* See Bingham’s full statements on this point in his “Origines Ecclesiastics,” b. xxiii. chap. 1, in which he shews that the burying places, while without the walls, were on the way to the gates of the city. We observed a graveyard a little west of the Jaffa gate; another at Jeremiah’s grotto, outside the Damascus gate; and another outside the eastern or St Stephen’s gate.

+” That which interested us most was a very large tomb, with a small square entrance in the rock, in the number and arrangement of its chambers and niches, not unlike the Kebur el-Kady, or tombs of the Judges. Creeping in upon our knees, we found ourselves* on a floor somewhat lower than the level without. Lighting our candles, we commenced an examination. The apartment was spacious, with tiers of niches, or more properly coffins, on all sides. Beyond this there lay other chambers of

LARGE VAULT.

From this we went a little farther eastward, to look into the large square vault near the face of the rock. This is not so much an excavation as a regular building, not unlike a rude chapel. Though its upper part rises above ground, yet its under part is considerably below. We looked down into the spacious sepulchre from an aperture, which was nearly on a level with the upper surface of the rock. We saw nothing but debris of stones, clay, dust, and bones. It is a gloomy charnel-house, even gloomier (though not quite dark) than the catacombs we had been visiting. It is probably of Christian origin, and is often referred to by the early pilgrims.*

the same kind, with similar stone receptacles for the dead; and beyond these again there seemed others, into which, however, we did not penetrate. These excavations are extensive, and the number of niches very numerous. What struck us most was that they were all filled with bones, skulls, and dust. In each one of these stone cases, there seemed to have been deposited not one, but twenty or fifty bodies, so deep was the stratum of the brown and almost impalpable dust which the bodies had deposited, and so numerous the bones and fragments of bones, the skulls and fragments of skulls, which wTe found in every one of these niches. There was no sarcophagus of any kind. The bodies seem to have been laid here simply in their shroud. W e were the more interested in the sight because in no other tomb had we found any human relics.”

* “Ascending by Acheldama, we entered into a porch and looked down into a vault, where we saw many dead bodies, covered only with their winding-sheet, knit at the head and foot, without any coffin; and some of their sheets were so white that they seemed to us to have been buried but a few days befoae we came.’* — Travels of Four Englishmen, Sc., p. 106. The writer of the “Pylgrymage of Sir R. Guyiforde” speaks of Acheldamak as being called Terra Sancta, and mentions the vault with seventies for casting the “deed Crysten bodies” into, as being built by In the evening we went to the meeting of the “Jerusalem Literary Society,” at the Consul’s. An interesting paper was read by the Consul on the exact site of Solomon’s temple, specially in reference to the Sakhrah, or great rock. Various fossils and crystals from the Dead Sea and elsewhere were exhibited. The crystals were very fine, and of considerable size. The conversation that followed was of a miscellaneous nature, though chiefly bearing upon the paper read and the specimens produced. We were surprised to find that few of the residents took an interest in a society which, to us, seemed both interesting and important. Very much might be done in reference to the topography of J erusalem, and the geography of Palestine, were such an institute vigorously supported. Reports sent to it from travellers and correspondents, as well as the information obtained by its own members, might, if properly digested and classified, form materials for a future work on these topics, more satisfactory than any that has appeared. No proper exploration has yet been made of this region. Its surface has been surveyed, and its upper features marked by travellers who have spent a day, or a week, or fortnight, here and there. But no digging, no trenching, has yet taken place. We know not what lies under the “heaps” of Jerusalem. Investigations such as those carried on at Nineveh

“Seynt Elyn.” “The sayde vaught (vault) is of a great depness; the length is 72 fote, and the brede 50 fote,” p. 34. See Felix Fabri’s Evagalorium, vol. i. p. 424. He gives the fullest account.

CAVE OF ADULLAM.

would bring up a mass of information which would set at rest many a disputed question. It is strange that nothing of this kind should have been attempted. The excavations made some years ago in laying the foundations of the English church, shewed substructions and conduits, under twenty or thirty feet of rubbish. The excavations carrying on just now for the building of the Austrian Hospice may bring other things to light. But still these are only partial and fragmentary operations, not conducted on any plan or with any topographical object in view. Something systematic ought to be attempted, and at half the expense laid out on Khorsabad, discoveries might be made at Jerusalem which would most materially elucidate both its history and its topography. We may rest assured that many of the old foundation-stones of tower and wall, are still where they were when set there by David, or Hezekiah, or Herod, or Agrippa,

Jerusalem, Saturday, March 1.1856. After breakfast we set off for what is supposed to be the Cave of Adullam, Mr Graham acting as guide, and Mr Valentiner as interpreter. Across the valley of Rephaim, by Mar Elias, Rachel’s sepulchre, and Beit Jalah we reached Bethlehem. There, having engaged a Bethlehemite to guide us to the cave, we rode on, leaving the guide to bring some provisions for us. Down the steep slope of the city we went, turning eastward. Again and again we looked back for our guide, but he did not come. So, trusting to Mr Graham, we resolved to find the way ourselves. Over the endless heights, down the endless wadys that lie in this, “the hill country of Judah,” we proceeded, crossing many a dry river-bed, beautifully paved with pebbles and rolled stones. We soon found ourselves almost at the foot of the Herodium, and had time allowed we should have liked to climb it. But we twere still at some distance from the cave, and very uncertain as to our way, having got quite entangled in a network of valleys, so like to each other, that we were bewildered. The day was fine and the scene was so new that we did not grudge the wanderings, though we began to fear that we should not find the cave, for our Bethlehemite had not made his appearance. We tried first this wady and then the other, first this hill, then that, but in vain. The Frank Mountain, still in sight and close at hand, assured us that we were not far out of the way; but such was the labyrinth of hill and vale that we knew not which way to turn. At length we struck up a hill which Mr Graham thought he recognised as adjoining the place. When a good way up we met a fellah, and inquired as to the cave. He offered to be our guide and we at once proceeded. We were certainly wrong; but not very far. Less than half an hour set us right, and an hour more brought us to the edge of the tremendous gorge on the side of which the cave enters. As the cave lies about half way up the face nearest us, we saw only the opposite precipices at first, which were bare, brown, and rugged in the extreme. They must be about a thousand feet in sheer descent, from the top of the

THE RAVINE.

ridge lying before us to the bottom of the fearful chasm which the eye could not reach. The view recalled some parts of the Sinaitic desert, for though the heights are not so naked and excoriated, nor so devoid of verdure and life, they are quite as gloomy and savage.

We cannot descend immediately above the entrance. The rock is quite perpendicular at that place.* But about a quarter of a mile to the left the precipice falls back a little, and present s merely a steep slope on which we found herbs and shrubs. Down this we proceed, riding part of the way, but soon dismounting. In about* ten minutes we come to a ledge in which this slope terminates, about half way down the ravine. The opposite face looks more and more rugged at every step. Still it was only a small part of the ravine that was visible, for to our left a projection of the rock shut out the view in that direction, and to the right, about a quarter of a mile down, the gorge took an abrupt turn, bending towards the

* In this region the ravines are so narrow that their upper edges seem in some parts to approach each other, while there is a chasm of perhaps a thousand feet deep between. This accounts for the scene between David and Saul in “the wilderness of Ziph,” in “the hill of Hachilab,” (1 Sam. xxvi. 1-25). After David had taken Saul’s spear and cruise, he “went over to the other side” (verse 13) of one of these ravines and stood upon “the top of an hill afar off,” and then held the conversation with Saul. The two sides of “the hill” or precipice are quite near enough to admit of conversation; but long before Saul’s men could have descended the precipice on the one side, and climbed up that on the other, David would have escaped. When we were on the Pyramids an Arab, for a few piastres, ran down the one Pyramid and up the other, in ten minutes. But it would require ten times ten minutes at least to accomplish a like passage between the two sides of these ravines.

Dead Sea, to which I suppose it pursues its way, somewhere north of Ain Jidy (En-Gedi). Before we descended to the level on which we now are, we had seen, from the heights above, a forest of wild grey peaks, the very image of sterility, extending for miles in a south-eastward direction. These must have been part of that billowy mass of hills that cover the desolate region of En-Gedi, throwing up their white crests in all directions as if a storm were tossing them.*

Having reached the narrow ledge above mentioned, we tied our horses, and proceeded in search of the cave, about half a mile along the ledge to the right. As you advance, the way narrows and the face becomes more perpendicular. Only one at a time can scramble along. Besides the narrowness of the path, the obstructions are numerous from projecting rocks. Sometimes you creep under, and at other times you climb over these blocks, some of which are detached masses, and others solid parts of the precipice. Here you have to step over a gap, there you have to squeeze yourself through a slit; with the remembrance all the while that you are on the sheer face of a precipice, with six or seven hundred feet of perpendicular rock below you. At length we reached the landing-place, where there is room for a few to

* No map that I have seen gives a proper representation of this region west of the Dead Sea. Even Dr Robinson’s is meagre. Instead of being a succession of wadys some four or five miles from each other, the country is a continuous stretch of the most mountainous confusion I had ever seen,

THE ROCKY LABYRINTH.

stand, and where you find two long masses of rock over the entrance to the cave.

We entered the first chamber or cave and lighted our candles. Previously, we had been discussing the question as to our finding the way out of this rocky labyrinth, should we venture far, as it is said to extend for miles. Some proposed the clue of Ariadne; but this might cut itself against the sharp angles. Others suggest phosphorus, which, rubbed against the rocks as we passed along, would leave a luminous track for our guidance back through all the sinuosities. But we had none. Besides, the exploration of the cave would be the work of a day, not an hour, so endless are its ramifications.*

We soon were corrected in some of our ideas. We had conceived of the cave as an immense recess in the rock, like Fingal’s Cave in Staffa; but here we saw nothing of this. It is an innumerable succession of arched chambers, like the crypts of a cathedral. These are the “sides of the cave” in which David and his men concealed themselves (1 Sam. xxiv. 3); nor can anything be imagined more suitable for concealment. Hundreds of men could be in these “sides,” and yet a person enter-

* Mr Caiman of Jerusalem, li an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile,” has given an excellent account of his visit to this cave in the “Jewish Intelligence” for December 1848. He speaks of the cliffs here as two thousand feet high. This T rather doubt, though one cannot correctly guess. Comparing them with the cliffs of the Leontes on which Kulat es-Shukif stands, I should say that the latter were considerably the higher, and they are estimated at 1500 feet.

ing the cave would not be aware of their presence. Each chamber is a stately hall, on all sides of which the rocks drop down like Gothic pillars, leaving only here and there gateways by which you pass into the adjoining chambers. You might spend days in exploring these vast apartments, for the whole mountain seems excavated, or rather honey-combed. The quantity of air or gaseous substance generated and imprisoned here, when the mass was fluid, must have been enormous, indicating, perhaps, the presence of some peculiar matter in the composition of the limestone which a geologist, or at least a chemist, might detect. We did not penetrate into the interior very far; still we groped our way through the passages into a good many of these apartments and found them all much alike.* Sticking some wax-lights which we had, here and there, on some little projection, we kept up communication with the outer chamber, so as to have no difficulty in finding our way out. In some places we observed stalactites; though these were not numerous, owing probably to the great dryness of the rock. The air was intensely hot, but quite fresh and dry. The stone is very much like the usual limestone of Syria, of a white or cream colour, which not only makes the cave more easily lighted, but gives a cheery brightness to the chamber. After this survey

* Mr Caiman penetrated 500 yards, but the chambers and passages seemed without end. The guides assured Irby and Mangles that it has never been explored even by the natives, so great is its extent. The Arabs say that the cave extends all the way to Hebron, eighteen miles! Van de Velde, vol. ii. p. 35.

david’s cave.

we retraced our steps by the same aperture as that by which we entered, and crept along the ledge in safety.

That this is the true cave of Adullam seems very probable from the narrative of Scripture, altogether apart from ecclesiastical tradition. David’s haunts were chiefly in this district; and naturally so, because of the proximity of Bethlehem, his native city. Ziph, with its “mountain” and “wilderness” and “wood” and “strongholds” (1 Sam. xxiii. 14) were in this neighbourhood. Hachilah, and Jeshimon, and Maori, and Carrnel, were not far off. The “strongholds of Engedi” (1 Sam. xxiii. 29) belonged to this eastern district of Judah, and not to the western. It was among the impenetrable mountain fastnesses that stretch from Engedi northward, that David secured himself from Saul, and hence wre should conclude that here we shall find the cave of Adullam, and not in the western valley or Shephelah (Josh. xv. 35), beside the city of that name. One or two allusions in the Scripture history make this still more probable.*

When David was obliged to leave Gath, he went to “the cave Adullam” (1 Sam. xxii. 1), which he would

* Lieut. Van de Velde makes no doubt that this is the cave of David mentioned in 1 Sam. xxiv., but thinks that the cave of Adullam was a different one (vol. ii. p. 33, 157), and must have lain at Deir-Dubban, some four or five miles north of Beit-Jibrin. His proof is very brief; nor does it satisfy. What he does say applies with greater force to El-Khureitun than Deir-Dubban. This last does not suit the Scripture account of Adullam, nor that of Eusebius and Jerome, who make it ten miles east of Eleutheropolis (Beit-.librin). certainly not have done had it lain as near to Gath as the city of Adullam did. When he came to the cave, “his brethren and all his father’s house went down to him” (ib.), implying that the place lay near to Bethlehem, which the present cave, where we now are, does, being about five miles south-east of that town; whereas the city Adullam, near which the other cave of that name is supposed to be, is about fifteen miles off, hard by the territory of the Philistines. When David was at the cave he “went thence to Mizpeh of Moab,” indicating that the country of Moab was not far off, which could not be said of the city Adullam. He then took his father and mother, and brought them to Moab, putting them under the protection of the king (1 Sam. xxii. 3, 4*), still more decisively intimating the proximity between Moab and Adullam. Being warned by the prophet Gad, he left “the hold” (ib. xxii. 5.*f-), and departed, and came “to the forest of Eareth” (ib.), which

* It was very natural for David to commit his father and mother to the keeping of the king of Moab; fur his great grandmother was a Moabitess, (Ruth). This accounts for the connection between Mizpeh of Moab and Bethlehem. (Was Mizpeh Ruth’s city ]) In Moab Moses found his resting place. To Moab Elimelech and Naomi fled in the day of evil, (Ruth i. 2). So God speaks to Moab concerning Israel, 1 Met mine outcasts dwell with thee, Moab,’5 (Isa. xvi. 4).

f- David’s “hold” in his wanderings was generally Adullam (1 Sam. xxii. 1, 5 ); and the hold was in the region of Engedi (1 Sam. xxiv. 1). At the same time we find a distinction made between the “rock “and the ’ * hold,” implying that there was a Metsada (or Metsudah, a fort) as well a3 a rock. Masada evidently takes its name from this word. It was “the fort” and the “rock,” as in Psa. xviii. 2, “the Lord is my rock and my Metsudah.”

KHUEEITUN AND HARETH.

forest seems, both from what goes before and follows, to have not been far off. Wady Khureitun (on the side of which the cave lies) is probably the ancient Hareth or Hereth. The episode of David and the well of Bethlehem is another confirmation of this. Had the well of Bethlehem been fifteen miles off, one can hardly conceive of David expecting that any one should bring water to him, especially when in doing so they would have not only to encounter the garrison of the Philistines at Bethlehem, but the whole army encamped in Rephaim. (2 Sam. xxiii. 13, 14). But nothing was more natural than that David, parched with thirst in the cave, or equally so in the forest of Hereth, on the heights above it, should long for the pure water of his native well, which was almost in sight, and to obtain which his three mighty men had only the Philistine garrison at Bethlehem to break through, not “the host,” which lay stretched far behind that city to the north and west.

Ecclesiastical tradition may be taken for what it is worth. In this case it coincides with Scripture.

Returning from the cave to the spot where we had left our horses, we observed some ruins on a projecting platform to the left. They did not strike us as in any way remarkable, either for their extent or their antiquity. Again and again before leaving we gazed upon the vast precipices that fronted us, and down into the horrible rent beneath us, that seemed a split in the very foundations of the earth, as if some of its “bars” (Jonah ii. 6) had snapped, and opened a seam in its lowest base.*

We had reached the cave by a circuitous road, but we were guided home over the hill by a direct one. We had hardly gone above a quarter of a mile when, in a small hollow near the top of the ridge, we lighted on an encampment of marauding Bedaween. Out they came upon us, young and old, demanding backshish. Mr Graham held them in parley, shaking hands with them, saldming them, and saying all manner of polite things to them, while the rest of us were getting out of their reach. Having put them into good humour, he gave them a few piastres and then rocle off. Had we not gone out of our road we should have come right down upon this horde at first, and should either not have seen the cave at all, or only at a great price. Perhaps we might have been thoroughly robbed, for we should have been entirely in their power, as we had no sheikh to protect us. But a gracious God had permitted us to lose our way, and so spared us this danger. How much one sometimes gains by losing their way!

Leaving the black tents of the robbers behind, we were soon upon the top of the height, on our way back to Bethlehem. t In many parts of these hills we could trace the remains of wood. There were still shrubs

* See Van de Velde’s Syria and Palestine, vol. ii. p. 33.

f Much we should have liked to have gone south-westward and visited Beit-Jibrin, the ancient Eleutheropolis, with which the reader of Jerome must be as familiar as with Bethlehem and Jerusalem. But we should have required another day to accomplish this.

MR HEFTER’s MEETING.

here and there, and some trees. Once there had been more. All this may have been “the forest of Hareth;” and certainly if Hareth means “cutting down,” it is true to its name. There has been enough of this here. Perhaps it was the forest out of which timber was cut down for Bethlehem, Tekoah, and the other villages round about.

We reached J erusalem about sunset, after a pleasant but fatiguing day. We had ridden in all at least eight and twenty miles, over hill and dale, rock and ridge, with not the vestige of a road anywhere. But we saw a great deal of “the hill-country of Judah,” and this was worth all our toil.

In the evening we went to the house of Mr Hefter, one of the missionaries here, and a most excellent man, to be present at a meeting which he holds on Saturday evenings for the Jews. There were about forty Jews present, some of them converts, some merely inquirers. We were deeply interested in what we saw and heard. Parts of Scripture were read, inquiries invited, conversation carried on, and difficulties resolved. All was well conducted. German, English, and Hebrew were the three languages made use of in turns. The singing, or rather chanting, struck us most of all. It was in Hebrew, and carried on by forty male voices, was truly thrilling. I shall never forget the chanting of the cxr. Psalm by those fine J ewish voices. How it rung through the whole man; so rich, so full, so strong. The Hallelujah, especially, which came in at the commencement of each verse, and was sung alone by the leader of the choir before the other voices took it up, was exquisite.

I add the Hebrew itself, with the music. The reader will no doubt be able to enjoy it when sung by Christian voices in a Christian land. But there was an indescribable pathos as well as power in it, as sung upon Mount Sion, at the close of the Jewish Sabbath and the commencement of ours. I need not print the whole psalm, a verse or two will suffice.

PSALM CXI.*
FP Mil

t:

T t;

: my*

rnrr ncp

nin rrriH i
antfrvr
Tirnrrtn in

T T;

* In singing the above Psalm, I observed that they conformed to Jewish prejudice, and substituted Adonai for Jehovah. I doubt the propriety of this. The feeling which leads to the substitution of the one name for the other is superstition, not reverence; it is wholly rabbinical, not scriptural.

PSALM CXI.

WW

I- 1 Jerusalem, Sabbath, March 2. — After worshipping with the congregation on Mount Sion in the forenoon, I went, as there was no afternoon service, to spend some hours in Gethsemane, with the Bible and an old hymn-book as companions. Passing down through the hollow, I was struck with the crimson anemonies growing in all directions.* They spoke of the “great drops of blood falling down to the ground,” These were solemn hours beneath that old olive, remembering Him who died and rose again, and learning here again for the thousandth time how entirely he had finished his great work of sin-bearing, having, “his own self borne our sins, in his own body on the tree,” What a testimony these old olives, and these ancient rocks, and this hill above, seemed to bear to the work of the sin-bearer! It is not love alone that speaks from this hollow, but righteousness and truth. “Without shedding of blood is no remission,” But there is remission nolr, for blood has been shed; life has been given for life, so that death need no longer be the portion of the condemned.” He is not here indeed, he is risen f but I see the place where the Lord lay. He was dead, but he is alive. I do not come here to seek the living among the dead. I come only to learn more thoroughly how true is the great story of his death, and how certain is my life, in

* This crimson anemone is said, in hue, to resemble the Tyrian dye (Braunius de Vestitu Sacerd. Hebr. p. 206), which again the above author compares to ossenbloet, blood of oxen.

LOVE AND RIGHTEOUSNESS.

receiving the Father’s testimony to that wondrous death.

What a testimony is Gethsemane against the fond dreams of those who see nothing but the mere effusion of benevolence in all this agony, and blood, and death! What a waste of sorrow wras here, if all for which “the Word was made flesh” was to tell us of the love of God! “God is love” seems written on each leaf of this olive that waves over me; but the love is righteous not unrighteous love, lawful not unlawful grace. It is love that condemns sin, not as a mere moral disease or physical misfortune, but as guilt to be dealt with by the Judge; love that manifests its condemnation of the Son, by that very deed of substitution through which it sets free the sinner.

Afterwards I went up to the Jewish burying-ground in the “valley of Jehoshaphat,” and there sat down upon a gravestone, with Hebrew inscriptions all round me, Jewish dust beneath me, and the beautiful city right before me; stillness and sunshine over all. As believers in a risen Christ, our thoughts do not, even in a graveyard, turn so naturally to death and dust and corruption, as to life and immortality and gladness. “The resurrection of the just! M What a brightness does it cast over the shades of the tomb! Across this spot where I am sitting, must Jesus have gone, when he “led out his disciples as far as to Bethany,” that from the other side of the hill he might ascend to heaven. Not on this side of Olivet would he ascend; for the city that had rejected him was not to be allowed to witness his ascension. Ere he rise?, he puts the mountain between him and Jerusalem; and then, within sight of that sweet village (the emblem of peace) that had so often been his home and place of fellowship with brethren on earth, he goes up to his home above, to the nearer fellowship of his Father and our Father, his God and our God. To this mountain, we also know, He is to return, and on it to set his feet once more (Zech. xiv. 4).

The Hebrew inscriptions here are very numerous, and one felt no common interest in sitting in the midst of these, and running the eye over one and another, though they are rather hard to be deciphered, on account of their contractions. Of one of our visits to them Mr Caiman was the companion; of another, Mr Nicolayson, and by their aid we read a few. A whole field of Jewish tombstones; and these upon the mount of Olives, looking down upon Jerusalem! Two of these inscriptions I subjoin, copied for me afterwards by Mr Bailey, whose Christian kindness it is a pleasure to remember. The first is a Kabbi’s, commencing, as usual, with the word Tsiiin, a mark, or sign, or epitaph.* I subjoin a translation, which comes as near the original as the brief and quaint style of epitaph will allow: —

* Monumentum Sepulchrale; Epitaphium. Buxtorff. See Levi’s Lingua Sacra, vol. v., sub voce. On the subject of Jewish Epitaphs, see Carpzov’s Annotations on Goodwin, p. 645. Also Hottinger and Geier.

THE RABBI ‘S EPITAPH.

a*pbx imb rrn
nbp rrrrun mp p»
mal? mwn dk “6

Hxwn &m rapi pot
m ^3n HOWL? xipi rpy

nnn Kin nvi «p

tpn rop? nay f D*n
2pr,n v nan rb ian tdh ihjd “innon Kin

1W

* Epitaph. — Here is a head of gold. Was he not beloved of the Almighty 1 a precious stone, and to discourse of him is easy. The Almighty meant it for good when he enlightened him from his glory, as they lighten the seven lamps; his shaft, and his branch, it kindled his people. And he called him by the name Hephzibah. He was a bringer to light of all that is hid; his was glory; his was brightness. Was he not the wonderful and honoured Rabbi, the perfect theologian (cabbalist) of the Almighty, the holy, the pious, our honoured teacher and lord Rabbi, Chaiim, son of Aier. He grew old, seeking in the Upper Yeshibah (place of study); on the 15th day of the month Thamuz, in the year 5550 (i.e. the year a.d. 1790), gaining the splendour of the Shecinah. He is the author of the book “The Lord, the king,” (Hammelech hashem). and the book “Toar” (Form), and the book “Or ha-haiim,” (Light of the laving), and the book “Eishon le-Zion” (Isa. xli. 27), “First to Zion.”

The next is his wife’s. It commences also with the Jewish tomb-mark, Tsiun, —

TPS

In the evening I conducted service in the schoolroom, as on the two previous Sabbaths. Another sermon in Jerusalem!” 0 that thou hadst hearkened to my commandments; then had thy peace been as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea

* An Epitaph. — Great in degree and glorious; the heart of her husband trusted safely in her; praised as a woman that feareth the Lord. She was the king’s daughter all glorious within, who rose above all elevation, and was perfect in beauty, glory, and righteousness. She opened her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue was the law of kindness; a stem of high descent and elevation. Was she not the Rabbiness (Mrs Rabbi), the pleasant roe, and the widow of our master and teacher, the holy Rabbi, the holy pious Chaim, the son of Ater, of blessed memory. She was daughter of the mighty and wise, the high prince, our honoured teacher, Rabbi Moses, the son of Ater, of blessed memory.

NEBI SEMWIL.

words which look like a foreshadowing of those uttered by the Son of God over this city. “O that thou hadst known, even thou, in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace I”

Jerusalem, Monday, March 3. — Between nine and ten we started for Kebi Semwil. Mr Valentin er was our guide; nor could we have had a better. His information was full and ready, and his Christian fellowship made the way most pleasant. Our way lay by the tombs of the Judges, at which, in passing, we stopped to take a second look. Then, over I know not how many hills and dales, as rough with rocky debris as can be imagined, we proceeded, till we reached the hill on which this monument is erected. It is steep; but we soon ascended it, though the wind blew strongly. Leaving our horses in the court, we went to the top of the tower, where we remained upwards of an hour, admiring the view and examining the country on all sides. We ought to have seen the Mediterranean; but there were clouds in the horizon, which hindered our prospect. At our feet lay the valley of Ajalon, stretching south-west by west, and north-east by east. It is a broad, winding valley, with El- Jib (the ancient Gibeon, Josh. ix. 3, &c.) in the middle, on a fine rocky mound or platform, sloping upwards in natural terraces. Eeyond Gibeon we saw Ram-allah. to the north-west; Bethhoron, the Upper, which lies more to the west, beyond Gibeon, was hidden behind the hills; and Kirjath-jearim, which lies due west, was also concealed. To the north-east, there was er-Ram (Ramah, Isa. x. 29), on the side of a hill; then, more to the east, T’tdeU-el-Ful, which seems to be the Gibeah of Saul. Then Qcdlim was pointed out, though its special site and name I failed to catch. Then Andta, the ancient Anathoth. To the south was pointed out the termination of a valley, which is supposed to be that of Elah, where David slew Goliath.* After remaining about an hour on the flat top of the tower, and reading the different passages relating to the scenes around, we descended, not without an examination of the interior as well as the exterior of the tower. That this is Samuel’s burying-place is improbable; that it is Mizpeh, is hardly less so, though, no doubt, it would make an excellent “watch-tower,”

We went down the hill towards Gibeon amid fields of olives. We went up close to the city, though we did not enter it. It is finely situated both for strength and beauty. It is not so much a city set on a hill, as a hill round which a city has been coiled, whose walls and dwellings, beginning with the lowest terrace, must have risen up, tier above tier, to the top. We looked in the direction of the plain of Ajalon, and tried to form some idea of

Wady-es-Sumt is the modern name of the valley, which is, I suppose, the ancient Azmaveth (Nehem. xii. 29), which the Greek gives as Atf/JsUjQ. There is no reason for making Surnt a corruption of Surd, as if “Acacia Wady” were meant.

t On the top of one of the small outhouses here we noticed (as often elsewhere in Palestine) the bee-hives, formed of long earthenware jars, laid horizontally one above the other. The bees were flying about; but it seemed as if their provender must be scant in a height so bare as this, round which there are- no gardens, no hills of heather, and but poor patches of wild- flowers.

Joshua’s battle.

the scene. We could suppose the hosts of the Amorite kings all gathered in this very hollow which we were traversing, for “the five kings of the Arnorites, the king of J erusalem, the king of Hebron, the king of Jarmuth, the king of Lachish, the king of Eglon, gathered themselves together and went up and encamped before Gibeon, and made war against it,” (Josh. x. 5). Some, we believe, have objected to the Scripture narrative of Joshua’s great battle here, and affirmed that the sun could not have been over Gibeon at all, nor the moon over the valley of Ajalon. We could see no difficulty in the matter; and besides, an objection of this kind assumes a much more minute knowledge of the exact spot where the battle was fought, as well as of the geography of the region, than we possess. The general topography of the valley or the city certainly presents not the slightest difficulty. The village of Yalo (Ajalon) we did not see, but the extreme end of the valley was pointed out. Moving along here we seem to hear the noise of the battle, and above it the voice of the leader —

Sun! stand thou still upon Gibeon!
And thou moon, in the valley of Ajalon.

How true did these words seem; how real the whole transaction between Joshua and the Lord; for very strikingly does the narrative ascribe the miracle to such a transaction, telling us, not that Joshua spake to the sun and moon, but “then spake Joshua to Jehovah” (Josh. x. 12), “sun, stand thou still,” Twice over in the next verse we are told that “the sun stood still, and the moon stayed,” intimating the reality of the miracle. And then, as if to set aside all future question as to this reality, it is added, “there was no day like that, before it or after it, that the Lord hearkened to the voice of a man.”*

What Nehi-Semwil was in ancient times is not easily determined. The Moslem name and tomb connect it with Samuel, but of this connection there is no proof. -f- Dr Eobinson makes it Mizpeh; but this is also doubtful. Mr Stanley makes it the high-place of Gibeom

* After reading over Mr Stanley’s vivid description of the battle four or five times, I cannot discover whether he believes in the above miracle. He quotes the passage, that is all; and in regard to verse 11, he makes “the great stones which the Lord did cast from heaven” upon the enemy, to be merely ‘’one of the fearful tempests that sweep over the hills of Palestine,” (Sinai and Palestine, p. 206). Mr Stanley writes regarding the miracle of the sun and moon, “It is on this point that the Book of Jashar presents us with that sublime picture, which however variously it always (1) has been, and perhaps always will be interpreted, we may here take as we find it there expressed.” If the reader will turn to verse 12 he will see that the description is not taken from the Book of Jasher, It is given by the writer of the inspired narrative. The citation from the Book of Jasher merely comes in at the close; so that the question is not as to the interpretation of the Book of Jasher, but of the Book of Joshua.

f Does the Moslem really mean the Prophet Samuel? There is a tradition of “the daughter of Samuel, mistress of a noble family,” who died in the seventh or eighth century, and was buried on Olivet, her tomb being afterwards a place of pilgrimage. (Jalal-Addin, Hist., p. 152.) There was, it would seem, a famous Samuel, and his daughter, among the Mahommedans; and as they are exceedingly good at combining and confounding names places, &c. (calling the Frank monarchs of the Crusades by the name of Nebuchadnezzar, &c), they may have done so with Nebi-Semwil.

JERUSALEM LANTERNS.

where the tabernacle was for a time; but this is only conjecture.* As yet this mountain is one of the doubtful things in the geography of Palestine.

On our way home we saw Kuhtndia, Nebala, and Beit-Hanina, The last of these places gives name to a wady, which we crossed both in coming and going, though not exactly at the same point. We got back to J erusalem about three, the day still bright and fresh. We spent a pleasant evening at the Bishop’s, with the missionaries and other Christian friends.

As there are no street-lamps in Jerusalem, one must have their lantern or fenus when needing to be in the streets after sunset; both because you would be laid hold of by the guard as a suspected person, if found without a light, and because the rough narrow streets really require it. Our Jerusalem waiter, Gabrael, considered it as regular a part of his duty to come for us with his lantern, as to wait at table. On he marched before us, up one narrow street and down another, always holding the light as near the ground as possible to indicate the ruts and stones, for it was our feet that alone seemed to need the light. We thus found new meaning in the passage, “thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path,” (Psa. cxix. 105).

I may mention here, that more than once I visited the church of the Holy Sepulchre, going through all its parts, and witnessing some of its processions. But there

* It is true that Epiphanius speaks of “the mountain of Gibeon,” but he says that it is eight miles from Jerusalem, whereas Neby Semwil is only four or five at the most.

is nothing true in it; all is fiction, got up for gain. You ascend some steps, and, near a splendidly decorated altar at the end of the chamber, you see an elevation covered with wood; beneath this is the hill of Calvary! You wish to see the rock itself, but a small slit in the wood is lifted up, like the lid of a box, a piece of rock is pointed out and you are told, that is the rock! Those who know about the building, say that it is a bit of stone stuck in there, and that there is no rock underneath. The aj3pearance of the place convinced us that such is likely to be the case. It is another of the lies of which this whole structure is one sad congeries. As a coral reef is the product of innumerable insects, each one building his own cell and dying, yet in his death adding another atom to the mass; so is this Church; every stone, arch, pillar, altar, statue, image, picture, lamp, being a falsehood; the whole, from floor to dome, one gorgeous imposture. There is here nothing real, nothing genuine. It is out and out an ecclesiastical hoax. In the Latin convent we did indeed stumble upon a piece of reality. Pulling out a drawer, the long-robed monk shewed us the sword and spurs of Godfrey! Whatever our opinion of Godfrey might be, here at least was an authentic relic of the eleventh century. Taking this fragment of reality into our hands, we were carried at once back to crusading days. It was the memorial of war, not peace; but still it was true; it was one tine thing in the midst of a thousand falsities; and the feeling arising from the contrast was indescribable. The sword is not remarkable; considerably less in size than that of Sir William Wallace at Dumbarton; but an officer who was with us, and who tried it in various ways, assured us that it was a first-rate article; so shaped as that, when a stroke is delivered, the weight is thrown towards the point.

Strange, that the only fragment of reality to be found in such a spot, should be a warrior’s sword!

Gelgotha,* Gethsemane, Moriah, Zion, what a mixture of the true and the untrue rests above you! The truest and the untruest things in the world are here; the one alternating with the other, and producing changes the most abrupt and unaccountable.

All religions have been here; yet is there only one religion, one truth, one Christ, one God. Religions change; religion changes not. Places of worship shift about, are cast down and rebuilt; sometimes filled with one name, sometimes with another. True worship must be always the same, making mention of One name. There have been many religions on these hills since the Son of God died on Golgotha. For a while it was the religion of Jupiter, then it was the religion 01 Mary, then of Mary and Mahomet together, and now it is that of Mahomet. But the time is coming when religions shall pass away, and the one living Jehovah be worshipped; not through Mary or through Mahomet, but through Jesus Christ his incarnate Son.

* Golgotha is the proper came; Calvary is a Lalinism of after ages, not to be found in Scripture.