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 PICTORIAL -lOURNKY 
 
 THliOUGH THE 
 
 HOLY LAND; 
 
 OI!, 
 
 gcetifs in laUstiiif. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY; 
 
 50, PATERNOSTER ROW; Go, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD; AND 164, PICCADILLY. 
 
 18U3.
 
 StacK 
 Annex 
 
 5 
 
 o^ 
 
 HH 
 
 '^-'7. 
 
 INTKODUCTOIIY NOTE. 
 
 TiiK Illustrations in this Yolume present most of the lacniorablc scenes that 
 meet the eye of the traveller in passing through the Holy Laud. They are 
 drawn on wood by the author of the letter-press, from sketches taken by 
 him on the spot. The series is extracted from the "Sunday at Home" for 
 18(11. 
 
 10635S0
 
 C N T E N T S. 
 
 I. EL AliABAIi: OU, TIIK WIMIKKXESS ()!■' ZIN 
 
 ir. KADEJSH liAltXEA ...... 
 
 in. THE HILT, COUNTRY OF JUDEA 
 
 IV. HEBKOX ....... 
 
 V. IIEBUOX— THE OAK OF ABRAHAM . 
 
 VI. THE VALLEY OF ESHGOL.— FENCED CITIES OF .JCDAU 
 
 VII. ANTIQUITY OF HEBRON.— THE POOLS OF SOLOMON 
 
 VIII. SOLOMON'S WORKS— THE TOWER OF DAVID . 
 
 IX. ROUTE FROM HEBRON TO JERUSALEM.— THE POOL OF HEZEKi: 
 
 X. .lERUS.VLEJI-THE TOMBS OF DAVID AND HIS SUCCESSORS— TH 
 
 UPPER ROOM"— VIA DOLOROS.V— ARCH OF ECCE HOJIO 
 
 XI. GETIISE5IAXE ....... 
 
 Xn. THE VALLEY OF JEHOSIIAPllAT .... 
 
 XIIL CHRISTIAN ANTIQUARIES IN JERUSALEJI 
 
 XIV. THE WATERS OF SILOAM AND THE ICIXOS OAROEX 
 
 XV. THE WATERS OF .JERUSALEM .... 
 
 XVI. THE VALLEY OF THE SON OF HINNOM 
 
 XVII. THE MOUNTAIN OP THE LORDS HOUSE . 
 
 XVIII. EL HARAM ESH-SHERIF, OR THE NOBLE SANCTUAIiV 
 
 XIX. JERUSALEM AND ITS SIEGES .... 
 
 XX. THE HOIA' SEPULCHRE ...... 
 
 XXI. THE MOUNT OF OLIVES ..... 
 
 XXII. VIEW FROJI OLIVET .... 
 
 XXIII. "THE TOWN OF MARY AND HER SISTER MARTHA' 
 
 XXrV. JERUSALEM AND ITS INHABITANTS 
 
 XXV. "BETHLEHEM AND THE LAND OF JUDAII." 
 
 XXVI. THE CONVENTS IN THE LAND OF JUDAII 
 
 XXVII. DESCENT TO JERICHO AXD THE DEAD SEA 
 
 XXVIH. THE ACCURSED SEA AND THE SACRED RIVER 
 
 XXIX. JERICHO AND THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN 
 
 XXX. PISGAH AND GILGAL .... 
 
 XXXI. JERICHO AND BETHEL ..... 
 
 XXXII. FPiOJI JERICHO TO SHECHEJI 
 
 XXXIII. THE MOUNTAIN OF BLESSING 
 
 XXXIV. SYCHAR TO SAMARIA 
 XXXV. FROM SAMARIA TO EN-GANNIM 
 
 XXXVI. THE GREAT PLAIN AND JEZREEL 
 
 XXXVII. FROM JEZREEL TO TIBERIAS 
 
 XXXVHI. GALILEE OF THE GENTILES 
 
 
 TACB 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 13 
 
 
 1!) 
 
 
 25 
 
 
 31 
 
 
 3? 
 
 
 41 
 
 \H . 
 
 45 
 
 IE "LARGE 
 
 
 
 31 
 
 
 5'J 
 
 
 6.5 
 
 
 71 
 
 
 75 
 
 
 81 
 
 
 87 
 
 
 93 
 
 
 9!) 
 
 
 105 
 
 
 HI 
 
 
 115 
 
 
 119 
 
 
 123 
 
 
 127 
 
 
 131 
 
 
 137 
 
 
 141 
 
 
 145 
 
 
 151 
 
 
 l.iS 
 
 
 IGl 
 
 
 1(J5 
 
 
 171 
 
 
 177 
 
 
 1S3 
 
 
 lf9 
 
 . 
 
 195 
 
 
 201
 
 SCENES IN PALESTINE. 
 
 EL ARABAH ; OR, THE WILDERNESS OF ZIN. 
 
 One land, and one alone, possesses an absorl>ing interest for those people of all 
 races, in all parts of the world, who profess the name of Christ. No matter 
 how much their one common tenet of faith in the Redeemer may be obscured by 
 prejudice, or encumbered by superstition, if they believe in Christ at all, their 
 attention will be at once attracted by anything which relates to the land in 
 which the whole natural mortal life of liini, who put on our flesh and dwelt 
 among us, was passed. Year by year, as that land and the districts adjacent to 
 it are further explored, some fresh facts arc ever being added to our still 
 imperfect information concerning the localities mentioned in the Bible. Deeply 
 interesting must it be to any Christian to wander throughout the country which 
 was the subject of God's gracious promise to his chosen people. Still more 
 interesting is it to him to see that each new discovery, geographical or 
 archteological, however trifling in itself, which it may lie his privilege to make, 
 ucfjuires a value altogether disproportionate to its own magnitude, because it 
 bears upon a subject of such vital importance to us all, namely, the truth of 
 every jot and every tittle of God's revealed word. Every such discovery will, 
 he finds, corroborate some assertion, explain some allusion, or show the fullil- 
 ment of some prophecy contained in that book, which we have humbly received 
 as written under the direct inspiration of the Holy Spirit; and thus one more 
 link is added to the long chain of induljitable facts, which proves' to us that our 
 faith in the word of God is not credulity, and our trust in the promises of 
 Scripture is not a vain dream. 
 
 The traveller approaching Palestine from the south, cannot fail to see how 
 literal is the fulfilment of the denunciations against Edom which God put into 
 the mouths of his holy prophets. Tie beholds Edom, who dwelt " in the clefts 
 of the rock and held the height of the hill," who made her " nest as high as the 
 eagle" — now "a desolate wilderness;" that her cities lie waste, that she is 
 " most desolate," and that her cities do not return. God has indeed, according
 
 2 EL A1!ABAII ; OK, THE AVTLDERNESS OF ZIN. 
 
 to his word, " laid the mountains of Esau and his heritage waste for the dragons 
 of the wilderness." 
 
 It is from Edom's roek-hewn capital that the frontier of Judea is approached. 
 A deep mountain basin is strewed with Petra's ruins, is hemmed around by 
 a- perpendicular wall of cliffs, whose precipices are sculptured for the facades 
 and excavated for the chambers, Avhich served the indwellers of this " nest in 
 tlic rock"' for habitations during life, for temples in which to worship, and for 
 tombs where all that was mortal of them at last Avas laid. The descent north- 
 wards is through a series of ravines that often are mere rifts in the mountain — 
 channels hj wliich the waters of winter's storms rush down to the plain. 
 
 One great vallev, beginning almost as far north as Mount Hermon, runs 
 from north to south through Southern &yvi&, and continues its couuse still 
 further to the southward. Its upper portion is the valley of the Jordan, 
 commonly called by Arabs "El Ghor." By most of the Arabian geographers 
 this name is applied to the valley of the Jordan exclusively ; but one of them, 
 Abulfelda, says that the Ghor extends continuously to the Red Sea from the 
 Lake of Tiberias. The ancient geographers are silent as to the prolongation of 
 the great valley from the Dead Sea to the Red Sea. The central portion of the 
 valley is occupied by the Dead Sea in its greatest length, and by a small tract 
 at its southern extremity, which is " the Yalley of Salt " of the Scriptures, 
 reaching up to some declivities that are probably those called in the Bible 
 " the ascent of Akrabbim." From these cliffs the great plain to which the name 
 " El Arabah " is given by the Arabs, and which was wholly unknown to the 
 last generation of travellers, commences, and continues uninterruptedly to the 
 site of ancient Elath, at the head of the Gulf of Akabah on the Red Sea. 
 
 Burckhardt, in 1812, was the first to visit and describe this great valley as 
 it exists, and it was not till 1822 that his full description was published ; but the 
 first two travellers Avho passed down its whole length from sea to sea, were 
 M. de Bertou and Dr. Robinson, within a few weeks of each other, in the year 
 1838. 
 
 " El Arabah," or " Wady Arabah " of the modern Arabs, is a broad valley 
 or plain of rolling gravelly desert, commencing at the cliffs which terminate the 
 "Valley of Salt," which was called by the Crusaders the " Yallis Illustris," and 
 running southward lietween the granite peaks and weatherworn sandstone ranges 
 of Edom on the east, and the steep limestone ridges of the south-eastern 
 boundary of the land of Judah on the west ; which ridges, continued further 
 south, divide the Arabah from the great desert of Et Tih, and then terminates 
 at tlic shore of the Red Sea.
 
 ii I' 
 
 ''"!""!'' "* I 1 llLil I 8 :J! :,,t 
 
 ;ii It 
 
 m 
 
 11 
 
 m: 
 
 
 
 i'l'lql'iid 
 
 ill III 
 
 B 2
 
 EL ARABAH; 01.', THE WILDEllNESS OF ZIN. 5 
 
 Unlike most of the Araldan wad^'s or valleys, the Araljali is almost destihite 
 of any scenery that is strikingly picturescjne. It is singularly bleak, barren, 
 and desolate, and vcr}^ subject to sandstorms. The centre of the valley is almost 
 devoid of vegetable life •, but over the southern portion, and in the wadj's that 
 descend to it I'rom the mountains, plants occur in larger and more frequent 
 })atches. The breadth of the valley varies, liut it i)robably does not often 
 exceed ten or twelve miles, and the greater part of it is of a less width. 
 
 This dreary waste, lliat seems so wearisome and uninteresting in its whole 
 extent, from the sonthern extremity of the Dead Sea down to the site of 
 ancient Elath at the liead of the Cfulf of Akabah in the Red Sea, is replete with 
 interest, and very rich in association for the Bible student. The Israelites 
 probably journeyed up it northwards on their mad to Kadesh Earnea, and they 
 assuredly passed down it southwards when Edoni had refused them a passage 
 through his land. 
 
 This gloomy wilderness has been the scene of many manifestations of God's 
 almighty power that were directly miraculous — altogether out of the common 
 course of natural events ; for in it, or in its immediate neighbourhood, occurred 
 some of the most remarkable episodes connected with the forty years' probation 
 of the people of Israel. 
 
 El Arabali was "the wilderness of Zin." On the north it saw the smoke 
 ascending to heaven from the dire catastrophe that befell the cities of the plain ; 
 Elath and Hazeroth were in its southern border, Mcriliah Kadesh was within its 
 limits, and Mount Hor looked down on a great part of its extent. 
 
 When the geographical features of the Arabah were first made knoviii, it 
 was supposed that it had once formed part of the valley of the Jordan, and that 
 the river flowing down it originally emptied itself into the Red Sea. It was also 
 believed that, but for the wonderful depression of the basin of the Dead Sea, the 
 Jordan would now flow through the Arabah from north to south. The present 
 level of the region, however, is opposed to these views, for it has been ascertained 
 that the Arabah, for at least two-thirds of its length, and proljably for a still 
 greater proportion, slopes down nortlnvards to the Dead Sea. The watershed is 
 somewhere south of the southern Wady Ghuruudel, but its exact position has not 
 yet been determined. 
 
 Since this discovery it has been suggested that, in the convulsion by which 
 Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed, the level of the northern part of the 
 Arabah was changed, and that it then sank down into its present abnormal 
 position. 
 
 The name Arabah is now limited to the i)lain south of the Dead Sea. In
 
 EL ARABAIT; OK, THE WILDERNESS OF ZIN. 
 
 the Hebrew Bible, however, a knowledge of Ibe existence of the Anibah, and of 
 
 its name, is veiy early found. The book of Deuteronomy opens thus : "These 
 
 be the words which Moses spake unto all Israel ou this side Jordan, in the 
 
 wilderness, in the plain over against the Red Sea, between Paran, and Toithel, 
 
 and Laban, and Hazcroth, and Dizahab." The plain here mentioned is in 
 
 ITebrew, "Arabah," and corresponds in reality as well as in name with the 
 
 great valley that has been just described. The Hebrew word "Aral>ah," 
 
 which when used generally means a desert plain, is here applied with the article, 
 
 the Arabah, as the proper name of the great valley in question, in its whole 
 
 length, just as the name applied to the southern portion is used in the same 
 
 form, as a proper name, in Arabic. In Scripture, the Dead Sea is even called 
 
 "the Sea of the Araliah, the Salt Sea;" and the Arabah of the Hebrews, 
 
 therefore, like the "Ghor" of Abulfelda, was the great valley in its whole 
 
 extent, from Tiberias to the Red Sea ; so that when the Israelites were in the 
 
 plains of Moab, opposite Jericho, they are spoken of as being in the Arabah 
 
 " over against the Red Sea/' that is, opposite to the Red Sea, or in the further 
 
 part of the plain from that sea ; Tophel (the modern Tufileh) being east of the 
 
 plain just south of the Dead Sea, and the wilderness of Paran to the south-west. 
 
 Thus, in our present state of knowledge respecting the Arabah, the Scriptures 
 
 receive an important illustration in some passages, which, before this country 
 
 had been properly explored, could not be satisfactorily explained. 
 
 In this plain, this great valley — the " Arabah " of the Bible, the " Ghor " 
 of Abulfelda — it was, that Moses, at the end of the fortieth year of Israel's 
 punishment in the desert, recapitulated to them the wonderful tale of God's 
 long-suffering mercy, of the marvels he had wrought on their behalf, of their 
 frequent rebellion against him, and of the penalties which, though he was slow to 
 anger, they had drawn down upon themselves. He set forth all God's gracious 
 promises to them ; and then, having set before them "life and good, and death 
 and evil," he adjured them to obey the Lord who had done so much for them by 
 signs, and wonders, and a mighty hand, and a stretched-out arm.
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 ir. 
 
 KADESH BAENEA. 
 
 LEAvixa the mountains of PJdoni, and entering into tlic Arabali, tlic plain is 
 Ibund to be about eleven or twelve miles broad. A ride of six hours over 
 the level desert, thickly studded v/ith mimosas and tamarisks, brings the traveller 
 to the fountains called " Ain Wcibeh," on the first slope of the limestone 
 hills which bound the Arabah to the westward. Here are three pools, a few 
 rods apart, supplied by springs issning from the chalky rock, and partly 
 surrounded by a swamp and thick jungle of tall reeds, coarse grass, and wild 
 palms. From the midst of this rank vegetation rises a graceful group of i)alm 
 trees, crowned with leafy tresses in all their rich natural Inxuriancc, untrimmed 
 and untouched by the hand of man. 
 
 The pools are edged with blackish mud, and the water they contain is 
 covered with scum at the brink, and emits a strong sulphureous smell. This 
 turbid liquid is brackish to the taste ; but, uninviting as it seems, both the Arabs 
 and their camels drink it eagerly, and the former usually fill their water-skins. 
 Ain Weibeh is a fountain too much frequented by thirsty men and animals for 
 its waters to have much chance of growing clear and pellucid ; but though they 
 are far from tempting, the whole scene around the springs is replete with 
 picturesque effect. Groups of men and camels give life to the bare rocky fore- 
 ground, which slopes down to the water's edge, whilst beyond the still pool the 
 exuberant vegetation of the cane and palm thicket glows with powerful colour, 
 and reeds, and grass, and palms are reflected in the dark waters. Above the line 
 of jungle there is a wide prospect of the Arabah, which, when looked down upon 
 in this manner, seems quite level ; and beyond the plain is seen its mountain 
 boundary, while the peak of Mount Hor appears towering above the nearer 
 range. 
 
 The whole scene has a kind of wild, strange beauty, though it is rather of a 
 solemn and gloomy character; but there is an interest attaching to this spot far 
 different from, and of far greater moment than, that of any mere material beauty 
 with which nature has endowed it. We have every reason for believing that 
 this now deserted fountain is the site of Kadesh Barnea, the city in Edom's
 
 8 KADESH BAENEA. 
 
 utteniiost })Oi-der lucntioncd very early in the Old Testament liistor}', before 
 Israel's birth, but chiefly interesting from its very intimate connexion with the 
 wanderings of the Israelites several centuries later. 
 
 There is no doubt that after Sinai, the " Mount of God," and the awe- 
 iiisi)iriiig events that there occurred, the place of all others that arrests our 
 attention in the Bible narrative of the forty j'ears' probation undergone by the 
 stiff-necked children of Israel in the wilderness, is Kadesh Barnea, It was, 
 unquestionably, the most important and interesting of all the Israelites' resting- 
 places mentioned in the itinerary of the book of Numbers, for it was the scene of 
 more of the Almighty's direct interventions in human affairs than any other of 
 the localities enumerated. It is the only place that is called "a city;" and when 
 the Lord's people had at last passed over Jordan into the promised land, it 
 became one of the landmarks by which the boundary of the country given to them 
 by Jehovah was defined. As earlv as the fourteenth chapter of Genesis, we 
 find mention of " En Mishpat, which is Kadesh," under the following circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Nearly four thousand 3'ears ago, four kings or sheikhs of powerful tribes, from 
 Mesopotamia and Eastern Arabia, made a foray along the east of the Jordan 
 vallej', to take vengeance upon some tribes that refused tribute. This was just 
 such an expedition as might have taken place at anj^ period from that distant 
 epoch down to the present time, if four great chiefs of wandering tribes made a 
 league to ravage the villages of tribes who suddenly abstained from paying the 
 customary black mail to secure their being left to themselves. These four kings 
 then smote the Horites in Mount Seir, made an incursion into the wilderness of 
 Paran, and then wheeled back to "En ]\Iishpat" (the fountain of Mishpat) 
 " which is Kadesh." They then marched northwards, and defeated in battle live, 
 kings or sheikhs of the district west of the Dead Sea, and plundered their cities, 
 carrying off Lot, with his family and property, from Sodom. 
 
 Abraham, who was encamped near Hebron, heard of his nephew's misadven- 
 ture, and taking with him three hundred and eighteen "trained servants, born in 
 his house," and his allies, the three brothers, Auer, Eshcol, and Mamre, he 
 pursued the marauders, surprised them by night, and followed them almost as far 
 as Damascus. He rescued Lot, with his jDroperty ; and it was on his triumphant 
 return from this expedition that he was met hj Melchizedek, king of Salem 
 (supposed to be the place afterwards called Jerusalem), priest of the most high 
 God. The kiiig-priest blessed Abraham in God's name, and then blessed 
 God for what he had done for Abraham ; after which these two righteous men — 
 one the friend of God, and the other the type of Christ— parted and went their
 
 KADESII BARNEA. 11 
 
 way. Lot, who had chosen his luiljitatiou amoiigsL Ihc wicked, lor the sal\c dl' 
 worldly gain, received Ijack his family and his goods from his holier relative, and 
 reUirned to the cities of the plain. 
 
 This account of the warfare of the four kings with five i»rovcs that Kadcsli 
 was a well-known watering-place, even at that very early epoch of the world's 
 history, and it also gives us a general notion of its situation. 
 
 The next mention of Kadesh is in the book of Numbers, in connexion with 
 the commencement of the wanderings of the Israelites in the desert. It was here 
 that the whole congregation awaited the return of the spies who had been sent by 
 Moses to survey the land of promise ; and hither the twelve spies, who were all 
 chiefs of the people, came back, after having searched the country for forty days. 
 
 Caleb and Joshua had a living active faith in God's promises, in his power, 
 and in his will to perform them. The companions of Caleb and Joshua were of 
 another spirit. They mistrusted God, the}' slandered the land promised to their 
 lathers, and died by the plague of God for their evil and false report. The 
 Israelites sided with the faithless majority, believed their calumnies, murmuretl 
 against the Lord, and feared the people of the land. Then it was that, on this 
 spot, " the glory of the Lord appeared in the tabernacle of the congregation, 
 before all the children of Israel," and the dread sentence was pronounced which 
 adjudged the whole congregation to a forty years' sojourn in the wilderness. 
 
 The God of hosts, however, in judgment remembered mercy, and did 
 not forget those who relied upon his word, for Calelj and Joshua were specially 
 exempted from the fearful condemnation. 
 
 To Kadesh Barnea, many long years afterwards, Israel again returned. 
 The wayfarers had now been wasted away by eight and thirty years of 
 pilgrimage. Most of those who in the prime of life had marched up the Arabah 
 when they iirst sojourned at this spot, slept now in their desert graves, in accord- 
 ance with God's righteous judgment ; and those who were then in the first flush of 
 youthful vigour had now attained middle age, and were worn with travel 
 and hardship. 
 
 Now, at Kadesh, Miriam died and was buried ; and here, when the fountain 
 failed to supply the vast host encamped around it, Israel, as of yore, murmured 
 and rebelled, and Israel's stubborn mistrust of God's careful protection provoked 
 Moses and Aaron to impatience and disobedience. The two chiefs exclaimed, 
 " Hear now, jq rebels, must ive fetch you water out of this rock ?" They did not 
 attribute power to God, or give him the glory of the miracle that was to follow ; 
 and then Moses, in impetuous anger, smote the rock twice, instead of, as he was 
 directed, speaking to it before the eyes of the people. God honoured his
 
 12 KADESII BALNEA. 
 
 old inoplict ill llie people's eyes, ami the rock gave foi'tli water I'm- the people's 
 wants; but this momentary presumption of Moses and Aaron lost them the 
 privik\ae of leading Israel into the land which for so many centuries had Ijeen 
 theirs, l)y Jeliovali's faithful promise. 
 
 From the time of tliis fresh .outburst of Israel's unljelifl, Kadesli acquires 
 an additional appellation, and it was from " the waters of strife," " Meribah 
 Kadesh," that Moses sent messengers to the king of Edom, with an earnest 
 euti-caty to be permitted to i>ass through his land, "by the king's highway." 
 This lil^erty of passage through Edom was of great importance to Moses and his 
 l)eople, for they had to pass through the land of iNIoab on their way to the 
 eastern bank of the Jordan, from which they were to cross over to their destined 
 inheritance. Their nearest and easiest road was through one of the valleys lead- 
 ing from the Arabah up to the table-lands of Mount Seir, whence they could at 
 once descend to the plains of Moab on the east of the Dead Sea. But the 
 descendant of Esau fiercely refused to give his kinsman, the progeny of Jacob, a 
 passage through his border, and came out against liim with much jieople and with 
 a strong hand. ]>y God's command Moses retraced his steps to the Red Sea; 
 but Ijcfore he turned southwards, it was God's will that a portion of the 
 sentence passed upon Moses and Aaron at the waters of strife should be 
 carried out. 
 
 Israel journeyed from Kadesh to Mount Hor, on whose summit Aaron died. 
 The congregation then travelled down the Arabah to the Eed Sea, in order to 
 compass the land of Edom eastward by a long circuit; and in the rugged defiles 
 between these granite precipices, well might " the soul of the people be much 
 discouratied because of the wav."
 
 ( 13 ) 
 
 III. 
 
 THE HILL COUNTRY OF JUDEA. 
 
 From Ain Weibeli the route by which to enter the hill country of Judea is over 
 the mountains of Edom. The first halting place is the fountain of Mureitlah, or 
 Magreira, in the wady of the same name, a pool of very bad l)rackish water, in 
 a brake of canes, rushes, and coarse grass. In this respect it is like Ain Weibeh, 
 but it lacks the beautiful palms, the wide-spread prospect, the solemn beauty, 
 and, what was far beyond all these, the enthralling recollections of the hoary 
 past. The eye rests for a moment upon the patch of refreshing green amidst the 
 glare of the white and yellow slopes around it, but no associations of old times 
 attach to that desert fountain. 
 
 A long and steep ascent has then to l)e mounted to a tract of undulating 
 table-land, of similar character to the rest of the plain, but of a higher elevation. 
 This is crossed until a valley is reached, partly surrounded by a regular and 
 singular amphitheatre of precipitous rocks. Before this there is seen on the left 
 the curious isolated mountain of Madurah, with its flattened summit seemingly 
 crowned by a great fortress. On the top of this mountain, an Arab legend tells 
 us, once stood the city of Madurah. Its inhabitants provoked God to anger, and 
 he in his vengeance destroyed the city with stones from heaven, and turned the 
 dead bodies of the erring people into stones. Seetzen, the traveller, heard this 
 tale at Hebron in the year a.d. 1807, and hoping to find something which might 
 illustrate the account of Lot's wife being turned into a pillar of salt, he made 
 an expedition to the spot, ascended, and carefully examined the mountain. He 
 found no trace of any ruins ; and, instead of the petrified corpses of the inha- 
 bitants, the small level on the mountain's top was covered with stones, composed 
 of limestone mixed with sand, about the size of a man's head, and of various 
 shapes. 
 
 The valley is at the foot of the mountain wall, a ridge of bare limestone at 
 least a thousand feet high, and running north and south, which formed a natural 
 boundary between Judah and Edom. Away to the southward this barrier is 
 less formidable, for it is not so steep or lofty, but to the north there are ])ut 
 three passes into Judah. Two of these, Es Snfah and Es Snfcy, are near
 
 14 THE TTHJ; COUNTRY OF .TUDKA. 
 
 together, and go straight over the crest of the iiKMintaiii. The other, which has 
 the credit of being the easiest, lies some distance to the left or to the south-west. 
 It is called El Yemen, and is the only natural break in the great chain. Wady 
 el Yemen is a deep semicircular gash which has cleft the mountain almost to its 
 base, and, according to Scetzen's account, even this pass is not particularly easy 
 or attractive. He describes it as a frightfully wild deep desert gorge, so thickly 
 strewn with huge rocks that it is difBcult to find a passage betwixt them. 
 
 The shortest route, which crosses the tremendous pass of Es Sufah, is almost 
 straight up the bare surface of the limestone rock. The strata, too, render the 
 ascent more difficult, for they lie at an oblique angle, so that gravity acts on the 
 traveller in two directions at once — one pulling him backwards, the other 
 drawing him sideways. The rock also is in many places highly polished, partly 
 by the tratfic which has passed over it for centuries, but chiefly by the sand 
 ever Ijlown over its superficies in storms. Up this smooth slippery plane tra- 
 vellers scramble as best they may, sometimes right up the steep hill face, 
 sometimes dodging about in zigzag fashion, according as small inequalities in the 
 rock, or any slight roughness of its surface, give some sort of secure holding- 
 ground for the feet, and a means of avoiding the spots most abounding in 
 treacherous glaze. The pass gives plentifid indications that it has been used 
 from a very high antiquity, both in its well-worn road and in the steps hewn in 
 some places, and the narrow paths cut across the slant of the strata in others, 
 many, many centuries ago. The steepness, the smoothness, and the lateral 
 inclination continue up to the summit ; and when first standing on the naked 
 plane of rock, it seems almost impossible that an}' heavily laden beast could 
 ascend the declivity. The broad, flat, spongy feet of the camel, however, are 
 marvellously adapted for such a path, as they do not slip on any dry surface, 
 however polished. On wet ground the case is very different. 
 
 The Arabic word " Es Sufah " (a rock) is identical with the Hebrew 
 " Zephath," the same place as " Hormah," which was one of " the uttermost 
 cities of the tribe of the children of Judah towards the coast of Edom south- 
 ward." It is probable, tberefore, that this pass was " the way of the spies," 
 and also the track by which the presumptuous Israelites endeavoured to enter 
 Palestine contrary to the commands of God, in which attempt they were routed 
 and driven back by king Arad the Canaanite. Israel then was in the commission 
 of an act of sin; and their sin, by God's permission, caused their i)unishment. 
 Afterwards, when they visited Kadcsh a second time, king Arad fought against 
 them unprovoked, and took some of them prisoners. The Almighty would not 
 sufl'er a heathen chieftain to work evil to his chosen people without his special
 
 THE HILL COUNTEY OF JUDEA.
 
 TFIE ITTTJ. rO[T\TRY OF JUDEA. 17 
 
 permission. The Israelites on this occasion were actiii'j; in accordance \viili 
 God's commands; and when tliey prayed for retribution on tlieir assaihiiit, their 
 prayer was heard, and the Canaanites and their cities were doomed to destruction. 
 No site of a city has been discovered in this wikl region, wliich is not surprising, 
 for the last mention of Hormah is in the reign of David. Near the foot of the 
 pass is a ruined tower, evidently intended to guard its approach. On two of the 
 hills also, after crossing the top of the range, ruined towers of good masonry are 
 seen; and across a valley leading down from one of them is a substantial dam, 
 built of cut stone, showing that some cultivation anciently was carried on in this 
 now desert spot. 
 
 From the crest of Es Sufixh a parting view may be taken of the Arabah, 
 l)efore descending to Wady Teraibeh. The descent is comparatively short and 
 easy, for on this northern side of the ridge the country is a table-land far above 
 the level of the Arabah. 
 
 On a rise near at hand is a burying-place, the graves being marked l)y 
 upright stones, upon many of which, strange to say, rude crosses were cut. A 
 few have the addition of two upright strokes beside the cross. It is diflicnlt to 
 account for the origin of these crosses, for the whole population of the wild 
 country on both sides of the barrier is Moslem, and the stones have no appear- 
 ance of great antiquity. Curiously enough, Captains Irl)y and Mangles observed 
 crosses scrawled about the door of a Turkish edifice near Kerak (the "Kir 
 Moab " of Scripture) on the east of tlie Dead Sea, and also these signs " + \u " 
 were three times repeated there, but the}' give no guess as to their authors. 
 Some of the Bedouin triltes adjoining the Arabah occasionally kill a kid or a 
 lamb as a sacrifice to secure a prosperous journej^ and to preserve the lives of 
 their camels, on whose necks they smear crosscss with the blood of the victim. 
 This sign may be used in this case in thoughtless imitation of the monks at 
 Sinai, or perhaps merely as a simple mai'k. They certaiidy would not sculpture 
 crosses on stone. Some of the Moslem tribes of Northern Africa, the Kabyles 
 of the Atlas for instance, tattoo the sign of the cross upon their foreheads. 
 Why they do so has not been satisfactorily explained ; ))nt tlieir tombs iTcvcr 
 bear this sacred symbol. It seems improljable that any travellers casually 
 encamped near this place of Moslem sepulture would engrave crosses upon 
 Aral) tombs. 
 
 Hormah is within the confines of Palestine, in " the south country," the 
 land of the Lion of Judah, the country allotted to the children of Simeon; for 
 " their inheritance was within the inheritance of the children of Judah," and 
 " the part of the children of Judah was too much for them." Their inheritance 
 
 c
 
 18 THE HILL COUNTRY OF JUDEA. 
 
 was given to them l)y lot, and then they had to win it. Bnt they had a 
 powerful ally, for " the Lord was with them," and over this immediate neigh- 
 bonrhood the sword of Judah and Simeon passed. " They slew the Canaanites 
 that inhabited Zephath, and utterly destroyed it ; and the name of the city was 
 called Hormah." 
 
 Passing onwards into the hill country of Judah, the traveller is now truly 
 in a Bible land. It was a wild frontier district, and was given to the fierce and 
 valiant tribes of Judah and Simeon, who could guard it well. On its swelling 
 hills arc still scattered the relics of its " fenced cities," and many a height is 
 crowned by the ruin of some strong fort or massive tower. For their history 
 we must turn to Scripture ; and, with few exceptions, in Scripture alone do wo 
 find the names so familiar to all who have been educated in a free and Protestant 
 laud, where those who will can study God's holy word. All that interests us 
 in this district is of a sacred character, and finds no place in secular history. It 
 does not present, as the Araltah does, any striking geographical or geological 
 features for study or speculation. Its downs are hardly as picturesque as their 
 fellows in England. The relics of old days are far from imposing, and the 
 phj'sical aspect of the land is dull and monotonous. Viewed simply as it is 
 materially, and putting aside its religious associations, to travel through it 
 w^ould be very tiresome, and a narration of the journey would be wearisome. 
 But the Christian pilgrim, who views the land through the light of God's word, 
 feels it a privilege to tread this sacred soil, and carries in his Ijreast recollections 
 that beguile the tedium, and holy thoughts that cause him to forget the fatigues 
 of his way ; while the Christian, whose lot is cast so that he can only be a 
 pilgrim in spirit, and not in the flesh, will feel his heart warm, and his attention 
 kindle at the plainest, simplest description of the Holy Land. In this pastoral 
 tract, Abraham's flocks pastured, and David tended sheep. Here Elijah wan- 
 dered ; here Ruth gleaned ; here angels walked ; and here He, who was " the 
 root and the offspring of David, and the bright and morning star," came into 
 this world of sin for its salvation.
 
 ( li^ ) 
 
 IV. 
 
 HEBRON. 
 
 So many of the most remarkable events in the history of tlie patriarchs toolc 
 place in the Land of the tribe of Judah, and it is so closely connected Ijotli 
 with the record of the early days of Israel's possession of Canaan, and with the 
 biography of David, that we must dwell somewhat more in detail on its general 
 features, and on some of its most familiar sites. 
 
 The land which fell by lot to the sons of Judah was bounded on the east ])y 
 the whole length of " the Salt Sea," from the month of the Jordan to the Valley 
 of Salt. From thence their frontier took a south-westerly direction : skirting the 
 territory of Edom, passing by Kadesh, and afterwards turning to the north-west, 
 it struck the coast of the Mediterranean somewhere south of Gaza. The 
 Mediterranean was its western limit, whilst on the north its ))oundary ran from 
 the mouth of the Jordan somewhat northwards, and then along the south brow 
 of the Vale of Hinnom ; thence going directly westward, it passed through" Ain 
 Esh Shems" (the Scripture " Bethshemcsh ") and Tibneh (Timnath) : it then 
 turned northwards to Akir (Ekron), and went out from thence to the sea coast. 
 
 The tribe of Simeon was scattered through this district ; and the wild 
 Bedouin children of the Kcnite, Moses' father-in-law, who had cast in their lot 
 with Israel, also chose to wander forth with an ancestral instinct into the 
 savage wilderness of Judah, south of Arad, on the skirts of the Dead Sea, and to 
 dwell there. 
 
 The royal cities of Philistia were included in this territory given to Judah, 
 and one by one they fell before Joshua " and all Israel with him ;" but the whole 
 of the fertile country along the sea coast, and these great cities themselves, were 
 soon recovered by their former possessors, so that Judah on this side was 
 shut in from all intercourse with foreign nations. Israel was shut out from the 
 sea by the Phoenicians ; but to Judah, the Dead Sea was a barrier against 
 eastern nations. The wilderness of Zin, and the wilderness of Tih intervened 
 between them and Egypt, whilst the great fenced cities of Philistia and the iron 
 
 c 2
 
 20 IlKimON. 
 
 chariots of their hereditary foes the pagan Philistines cfrcctually debarred thein 
 from access to the sea coast. 
 
 On entering "the south country," within the limits of the land of promise, 
 there are soon seen slight indications of a change in the character of the country 
 even before crossing the pass of Es Sufah, for every now and then some bright 
 flower enlivens the grim desert. Proceeding onwards, the plants begin to be more 
 plentiful, the llowers appear in more frequent patches; grass too, in isolated 
 tufts, shows itself here and there, herbs increase, shrubs disappear ; and slowly 
 and gradually, very gradually in the gravelly valleys, one comes upon pasturage, 
 thin and scattered, but sufficient for considerable flocks. Still the gradations 
 between the great and terrible wilderness, and the land flowing with milk and 
 honey, are almost imperceptible ; and there is no spot where any abrupt trans- 
 ition can be marked so as to fix the boundary of the desert and the frontier line 
 of fertility. 
 
 Aged Israel in his last hours foretold what would be the position held by 
 the posterity of each of his sons, when they should succeed to their heritage in 
 ('anaan. The anger of Simeon and Levi had been fierce, their wrath had been 
 cruel, and God through Israel's mouth pronounced their eventual destiny : 
 "I will divide them in Jacol^, and scatter them in Israel." Thus they never 
 could be great or powerful, or rise into importance as a single state ; and most 
 literall}^ was this prophecy fulfilled. They had no tract of country allotted to 
 them : they had no border. Cities were given to Simeon here and there, scattered 
 about throngh Judah's wide iidieritance, and to Levi they were assigned in the 
 portion of each of the trilies. The race of Simeon inherited the fierceness of 
 their ancestor, and bore his punishment. The prophetic doom of Levi was 
 literall}" carried out; but the Almighty's merciful approval of their conduct at 
 Sinai turned the punishment into a blessing. Levi was " scattered in Israel," 
 but it was as the consecrated priests of the Most High, appointed to perform the 
 rites and ceremonies appertaining to his worship. 
 
 After ascending a rocky pass out of the vallej% somewhat off the road are 
 the ruins of Kurnub, supposed by some to be the " Tamar " mentioned in 
 Ezekicl in connexion with Kadesh, and later the Thamara of Ptolemy. The 
 remains are scattered over sonie low hills, surrounded by a wall. There are 
 relics of a strong fort, near which is a great underground vault, partly cut out of 
 the rock, with an opening in the top. Further on is an edifice, which contains a 
 large apartment with a bow at the south end, and surrounded by fragments of 
 columns, cornices, capitals, etc. This may have been a Christian church, for some 
 of the ancient churches in this country were built north and south, instead of east
 
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 and west, as in more modern daj'S. A deep ravine ran along one side of llie 
 city; and across tlie valley between two hills, on wbicli are the remains of 
 towers, is a solid dam of masonry. 
 
 Bedouin encampments arc here met with ; their black tents, woven from 
 camels' hair being pitched in a great circle ; and their flocks scattered over the 
 fat pasturages, or crowding round some well which a patriarch may have dug, 
 patiently waiting for the water to be drawn up to supply them each in turn. 
 Abraham looked upon just such groups as these in this very land nearly Ibi'ty 
 centuries ago. 
 
 Advancing into the heart of the hill country of Judah, the swelling downs 
 and smooth rounded hills are somewhat bare of herbage ; but in the valleys tlie 
 grass, high and greeu and luxuriant, is spangled with countless flowers— red ane- 
 mones, the scarlet poppj^ called in Arabic " abou naum," " the father of sleep," 
 mallows, and delicate sweet-scented convolvuli, with many others. Numbers of 
 storks are seen marching solemnly about whilst they feed, but they are shy of 
 allowing too close an approach. Now and then, too, a patch of corn land is passed. 
 Ruined towers often crown the hills, and there are many remains of walls and 
 foundations. There is another change, however, in the aspect of the countrj', 
 which is not an improvement. It is utterly devoid of trees ; there is not even a 
 shrub. The palms of Kadesh, the acacias of the Arabah, the desert broom, the 
 tamarisk, and other smaller plants, have all disappeared, and there is nothing to 
 take their place. At midday, in all " the south country," from the Ijorder up to 
 Hebron, there is no such thing as shade. 
 
 Leaving on the left the tanks and ruins of Ararah, the Scripture " Arocr." 
 are seen the extensive remains of another ancient city, now called El ]\IiIIi. 
 This was the Moladah of Scripture, a city on the southern border towards Edom 
 assigned to Judah, and afterwards made over to Simeon. In later days it was a 
 castle of the Idumeans, mentioned by Josephus as "Malatha;" and afterwards 
 under the Romans it was the station of a cohort. 
 
 Near the ruins are some interesting wells of great antiquity. They are 
 deep, their sides are lined with cut stone, and the great blocks of marble at their 
 mouths are seamed with deep grooves all round their edges, worn by the ropes 
 let down to draw the water for many and many a generation. Round the wells 
 a number of troughs, shaped something like mortars, and cut out from blocks of 
 stone or marble of various kinds, are strewed about for the purpose of watering 
 the flocks. This group of wells of good pure water must have been a rich 
 possession in this dry and thirsty land. These at Moladah are almost, without 
 doubt, as old as tlie i)atriarchs ; and as we look upon the countless furrows on
 
 24 llEBKOX. 
 
 their marble luargiiis, and down into the wtill cool waters beneath, and then cast 
 our eyes upon the thirsting flocks collected around and upon the l^are, hot, gray 
 hills behind tlicni, we can understand how it was that such prominence was given 
 to wells in the Bible, and how often they are inseparably linked with events of 
 the highest importance. The thoughts recur to Achsali, daughter of the God- 
 fearing Caleb, promised by her father as a prize to him who should smite Kirjath- 
 Sepher and take it. Her valiant cousin Othniel won the city and the reward, 
 and then the bride asked a dowry from her father : " Give me a blessing ; for 
 lliou hast given me a south land ; give me also springs of water: and Caleb gave 
 her the upper springs and the nether springs." 
 
 Not far from Hebron lies Tell el Kuseifeh, a hill crowned with extensive 
 ruins of a town, where one column of some public building still stands erect 
 among its prostrate fellows. This is one of the many fenced cities of Judah 
 whose names are unknown. About an hour's distance off, is another hill still 
 called Tell Arad, where stood the city Arad, whose king twice wrought evil to 
 Israel, and which afterwards was captured and destroyed by Joshua when he took 
 " the south country." 
 
 The valleys through which the traveller now passes are mostly cultivated 
 with corn in the untidy way which is universal among the agricultural Arabs ; 
 large patches of coarse grass and weeds being left amidst the corn for no reason 
 whatever. This style of farming answers well enough where there is no stint of 
 land, and a hundred acres more or less are of no account at all to the tribe which 
 owns the country, whilst these rough spots help to give brightness to the scene, 
 for they sparkle with radiant flowers. Quails spring with a quick whirr out of 
 the weeds and corn as one rides onwards ; wells and Bedouin encampments, and 
 flocks of sheep and goats, are more frequent. Cattle and horses, too, are now 
 met with ; towers, foundations, and other remains of old days crown the hills, 
 and occasionally the dams for vast reservoirs cross the valleys. 
 
 At length a view of Hebron is caught from the brow of a hill ; and des- 
 cending its slope, the city of the patriarchs stands on a bare hill face, glittering 
 in the sunshine. Beneath it lies a fair fresh valley wooded with olive-groves, 
 which also cover the terraces of the opposite hill. The houses, many of which 
 have semicircular domes rising from their flat roofs, climb the steep, tier over 
 tier ; and above them, like a giant among dwarfs, towers the mighty mosque 
 which covers the cave of Machpelah. Here Abraham first buried his dead out of 
 his sight, and afterwards was himself entombed ; here Isaac and Rebecca rest ; 
 here Leah, the tender-eyed and unloved, sleeps in peace ; and here, after a long 
 circuitous journey out of Egypt, the embalmed corpse of Jacob was at last laid.
 
 V. 
 
 HEBRON— THE OAK OF AimAIIAM. 
 
 On approacliiiig Hebron, the city of tlie patriai'clis pivsents itself as a lu'liiliL 
 eliecrful town, clinging to the steep hill-face ou one side of the fanted and I'crtile 
 vale, plenteously enriched with shade, forming a landscape which contrasts 
 strongly with that upon which the traveller from the south has looked fur 
 man}' days. 
 
 The southern approach to Hebron- — " the way of the spies " — would be 
 attractive if the scene possessed nothing but its own physical beauty and 
 freshness to recommend it ; but this earthly comeliness is its least attraction in 
 the eyes of the Christian. His thoughts are not of the present possessors of the 
 trim houses, the groves and gardens and vineyards outspread before him. His 
 mind will wander for away among the dim shadows of the hoar}' past, calling 
 up the shapes of the might}' who dwelt here of old. More than three thousand 
 seven hundred years have passed away, since on that mountain top Abraham, 
 "the friend of God," pleaded face to face with his Creator, in earnest intercession 
 for sinning men. "The prayer of a righteous man availeth much," and great 
 things were here granted by God to his faithful servant's prayer ; but that long- 
 suffering mercy brought no remission of punishment to the land that was so 
 deeply flooded by the torrents of pollution. 
 
 And there Uavid, the champion of his God and of his king, the fugitive 
 outlaw, the sweet singer of Israel, the king over all the tribes of God's people, 
 the inspired prophet, the deeply repentant sinner, the ancestor of the Messiah — ■ 
 stood by the city where first he reigned. 
 
 Here at length the traveller is now supposed to be within the border of 
 civilization, and amongst a fixed population, dwelling in houses instead of 
 amongst the nomade dwellers in tents. From henceforth, horses and mules are 
 destined to carry him and his baggage ; and the " ships of the desert " return to 
 their native wilderness. 
 
 It is a matter of great interest to the traveller, with his Bible and his 
 map before him, to study the relative positions of the town, the hills, and the 
 ramifications of the valleys which intersect them, vf ith the view of forming some
 
 26 HEBRON— THE OAK OF ABRAHAM. 
 
 definite opinion concerning Kirjath Arba (which is Hebron), Eshcol, and Manire. 
 Hebron is the position where he may best arrange his ideas, digest the infor- 
 mation acquired, retrace his route through the hill country and its fenced cities, 
 recall the associations their names have aroused, and weigh the arguments for 
 and against the authenticity of the rei)uted sites of those cities which Judah won 
 from the Canaanite. 
 
 Many of the places in sight of or near which one passes bear names 
 often met with in Scripture; and whilst pausing at Hebron, a retrospective 
 glance maj^ Ijc given to some of those in " the south country " that are most 
 fomous. 
 
 Sinai and Ivadcsh-Barnea stood out prominently in the slory of the forty 
 years' wandering ; Hebron and Beersheba Ijcar just the same relation to the 
 ancient annals of the laud of the Lion of Judah. 
 
 About six hours' journey to the westward of the ruins of the wells at 
 Moladah, already mentioned, are other wells and other ruins of a place far more 
 renowned in early Bible history, for they mark the undoubted site of Beersheba. 
 Aljrahara dug the first " well of water " here ; and here, too, he planted a grove, 
 and in the shade of that natural temple offered up sacrifices, " and called there 
 on the name of the Lord, the everlasting God." Here Abraham made a covenant 
 with Abimelech, the Philistine sheikh of Gerar, to show friendship to his 
 descendants to the third generation. Having sworn to this alliance, "Abraliam 
 reproved Abimelech because of a well of water which Abimelech's servants had 
 violently taken away ;" and then, no doubt in the presence of many spectators 
 who could testify to the fact, gave him seven ewe lambs as " a witness " that he 
 had digged the well, and that it was his for ever. Then it was that, in 
 memorial of his covenant and oath, the patriarch gave the well the name of Beer- 
 sheba, which is translated by some, " the well of the oath," and by others, " the 
 well of the seven." That name it bears at the present time, for the Arabic " Bir 
 es Seba " has the latter of the two significations of its Hebrew predecessor. 
 
 On this spot God talked with Abraham, and tried him, commanding him 
 to sacrifice his sou, his only son Isaac. From hence, without a moment's 
 hesitation, but with more than child-like trust in, and ready obedience to, the 
 commands of his Father in heaven, Abraham started early in the morning to 
 offer up his son on the mountain in Moriah's land. He never faltered in that 
 purpose nor doubted the Almighty, and won the blessing, " lu thy seed shall 
 all the nations of the earth be Ijlessed ;" and then he returned to Beersheba, and 
 in Beersheba he dwelt. 
 
 At Beersheba, Isaac also pitched his tent when the Philistines, in jealousy
 
 
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 HEBRON -THE OAK OF ABRAHAM. 29 
 
 at his prosperity, drove him from place to place, the herdsmen of AlMmelech 
 (successor to him who had joined in the oath with Abraham) disputing with his 
 servants about the wells thej'' digged. Then Abraham's sou renewed his ilither's 
 covenant with Abimelech's successor, and digged another well in Beersheba. 
 Here to him in his trouble, as to his father Abraham of yore, God appeared at 
 night, and spoke the words of blessing and enconragenient, "Fear not; for I am 
 with thee, and will bless thee." Isaac built an altar, and called upon the name 
 of the Lord ; and, in like manner, all those who in their hearts erect an altar 
 to the Lord, and, through his Sou Jesus, in faith call on his name, need have 
 no fears; for the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob will watch over them. 
 
 At Beersheba it was that Jacob by subtilty took away his Ijrother's 
 Idcssing — deceit which cost him long years of exile from his mother's love and 
 his father's face. When an old man himself, he came south to Hebron, and 
 there he saw his father die ; and afterwards, when he was on his road to Joseph 
 in Egypt, he came again to Beersheba, and here he sacrificed to God. 
 
 In Beersheba, Samuel made his sons judges over Israel ; and their wicked 
 lives, coupled with Samuel's old age and the prospect that speedily the people 
 would be left without a guide in whom they could trust, incited the Israelites, 
 so prone to foi'get God's watchful care over them, to ask for a king. 
 
 Elijah, flying from Jezebel, " went for his life and came to Beershclja, which 
 belongeth to Judah ;" and going a day's journey further into the wilderness, 
 rested and slept under one of the tall thick tufts of retem, or desert broom, and 
 woke to partake of food supplied by miracle. 
 
 Beersheba was the southern limit of Palestine proper, which extended 
 " fi'om Dan to Beersheba." The only later mention of Beersheba in Scripture 
 is the bare fact that the Jews returned thither after the captivitj'. In later 
 times it was a small town with a Eoman garrison. Afterwards it was the seat 
 of a bishop, but it sank to a village, and finally was deserted. In the f(_)urteenth 
 centur}', Mandeville and other travellers relate that some of its churches were 
 still standing. 
 
 Abraham's grove has disappeared with Judah's forests, and only a few 
 stones and foundations scattered over the liare hill and valley mark the town's 
 site ; but the old wells still remain. The larger one measures twelve feet and a 
 half in diameter, and is forty-four feet and a half to the water's brink. The 
 smaller well is about the same depth, but is only five feet in diameter. Both of 
 them still afford a copious supply of pure fresh spring water, and on this hallowed 
 spot the wayfarer may drink from the well that A])raham dug, and ask a blessing 
 from the God in whom Al)raham trusted.
 
 30 HEBRON— THE OAK OF ABRAHAM. 
 
 The far-faraed tree called " The Oak of Abraham," is an object of interest. 
 The patriarch sat in his tent door in the plains of Mamrc, in llie heat of the day; 
 "and he lift up his eyes, and looked, and, lo, three men stood Ijy him." As 
 befitted the sheikh of a great pastoral tribe, and as many an Arab of meaner 
 degree and poorer circumstances would do now, he went forward to meet the 
 strangers, and pressed his hospitality upon them. They accepted it, and resting 
 under the tree close to whose shade tlieir liost's tent was pitched, they partook 
 of the fare he provided. The Lord, in human guise, was among these guests; 
 and he then, under that tree in Mamre, renewed the promise that a son should 
 be boru to aged Aljraham and to aged Sarah, who should inherit the blessings 
 of the covenant. Tradition indicated a tree near Hel)ron as that under wliich 
 the Lord and his angels had been the guests of man. There has been much 
 controversy both as to the species of that tree and as to its actual position, it 
 being almost impossible to reconcile the accounts given by various early writers, 
 chief among whom are Josephus, Jerome, and Eusebius. They speak of the tree 
 dignified by this tradition as a terebinth, and, whether oak or terebinth, it is 
 difficult to form an accurate opinion as to its exact situation. Li the time of our 
 Saviour, a terebinth of immense size, and said to be as old as Adam, was 
 venerated l)y the Jews as that which shaded the tent of their progenitor. 
 
 "V^Tiether or not the tree which existed in our Saviour's time was the 
 original tree, we have no means of knowing. There seems to be no doubt that 
 tliat tree was a terel^inth, and it is proV^able that the real tree may have been 
 an oak. There are now no large terebinths near Hebron. 
 
 In whatever epoch the terebinth of Jerome disappeared, the popular mind, 
 no doubt, fixed upon the nearest tree of great age and size, and attached to it 
 the tale and the honour. Succeeding generations received this successor, without 
 question or doubt, as the original. The present " Oak of Al)raham " is certainly 
 not the tree mentioned in Genesis, though probably for many centuries it has 
 borne that distinction. It is a kingly tree ; the grandest and most picturesque 
 in Palestine, south of Lebanon. It may be a thousand years old, possibly much 
 more ancient ; and it impresses one all the more from the marked absence of 
 fine timber tliroughout this land. It is a prickly oak, called by the Arabs 
 " Sindian." The trunk is said to be 25 or 26 feet in girth. It rises from a great 
 mass of gnarled and rugged roots, and almost immediately divides into three 
 huge limbs. The branches extend from the trunk in one direction about 50 
 feet, and the whole diameter of their spread in this direction is 90 feet, and in 
 another direction at right angles nearly 85 feet. A large limb torn off" by some 
 storm still lies near, dead upon the ground.
 
 ( •'" ) 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF ESHCOL.— FENCED CITIES OF JUDAII. 
 
 The valley above Hebron is considered by most authorities to Ije the valley of 
 Eslicol, whence the spies cut " one cluster of grapes, and Ijare it between two 
 upon a staff, and brought of the pomegranates and of the figs," and carried them 
 to all Israel at Kadesh, as evidence of the exuberant fruitfulness of the laqd that 
 " surely flowed with milk and honey." 
 
 The locality is really in a mountain land. It constantly rises from the 
 Arabah ; and Hebron itself is the town of highest elevation in all Syria, standing 
 two thousand eight hundred feet above the sea ; so that truly Jacob and his sons 
 "went down into Egypt." This considerable elevation, and its variable climate, 
 caused the fertility which prompted Caleb to ask for the region round Hebron as 
 his portion of the promised land, and which made that district so rich a reward. 
 It is the mists, the moisture, and the cooler air of a more northern clime, conjoined 
 with the fervid heat of the sun of a Syrian summer, that have made Eshcol's 
 valley so celebrated. These same causes still work out similar results, and the 
 vines of Eshcol's vale still bear splendid grapes, the largest and best in all the 
 country round ; figs and pomegranates burden the trees on the terraced mountain 
 sides, whose groves likewise enrich her with " oil olive," and the fields wave with 
 corn. 
 
 This is the first place seen in all the Ijorder-land of the south, in which one 
 can appreciate the longing of Abraham's children for the land God had promised 
 them. Here, indeed, is a fair example of that country which was " a land of corn 
 and wine, a land of bread and vineyards, a land of oil olive and honey," and of 
 which we read so much. 
 
 The vines in the vicinity of Hebron are sometimes enclosed in vineyards 
 surrounded by stone walls, and overlooked by " the tower of the watchman ;" 
 sometimes they run along terraces which may have existed from the earl}' days of 
 Israel's possession, and here and there is built a hut for the guards or vine-dressers 
 — " a cottage in a vineyard." In these towers and huts, and also in tents, the 
 families of Hebron are crowded in time of vintage, which is a festival season for 
 the whole population ; and the town is left deserted. The produce of the vineyards 
 Is sent all over Palestine. The proprietors, being chiefly Mohammedans make no
 
 32 THE VALLEY OF ESHCOL— FENCED CITIES OF JUDAH. 
 
 wine or raki ; l>nt a little is made by the Jews, though not in sufficient quantities for 
 exportation. 'J'he best grapes are made into raisins ; the remainder are trodden 
 out in tlie winepress, and their juice is boiled down to a syrup, which resembles 
 treacle, but has a plcasanter taste. This syrup is called " dibs," a Hel)rew word 
 signifying " honey" and also " sj'rup of grapes ;" and wherever in Palestine there 
 is "a land of vineyards" this syrup is commonly eaten with Ijread. 
 
 Before proceeding northward some notice is requisite of the south countr}-, 
 and of the fenced cities of Judah, near which the road to Hebron passes. Some- 
 thing more about Hebron itself will be said before proceeding onwards. Beer- 
 shel)a and Moladah have been already mentioned : it is after leaving the latter 
 jilace — the modern El Milh — that ruins and hills, many of them still bearing their 
 old historic names exactly, and others preserving with some slight modification 
 the nomenclature of Joshua's daj^s, begin to crowd upon the traveller. 
 
 Attir, Anab, Main, Kurmel, Yutta, Zif, Shuweikeh, names now in use for 
 existing localities, speak to us of Yattir, Anab, Maon, Carmel, Juttah, Ziph, and 
 Socoh, so called when Judah first took possession of his heritage. Maon, Carmel, 
 and Ziph are a little to the right, with the wilderness of Engedi beyond them. 
 These names are especially familiar, for it was iu this district that Saul hunted 
 David like " a partridge in the mountains." This " wilderness of Maon " and this 
 " wilderness of Ziph " harboured David " in the rocks of the wild goats," in caves 
 and forests, which were then the haunt of lions and other wild beasts. Both the 
 lions and the forests have long since disappeared ; but the grey hills, the deep 
 caves, the scattered ruins, and the old names still remain. 
 
 Many an eventful story are we told of David's adventures here; but in all 
 the records of his wild career there is no tale more strangely romantic than that 
 of which Maon and Carmel were the scene. 
 
 In Maon, on the top of that high, bare, conical hill, now crowned with ruins, 
 dwelt the "churlish and evil" Nabal, "whose possessions were in Carmel." He 
 was a worthless offshoot of the house of the mighty Caleb ; but no portion of 
 Caleb's virtues had descended to Nabal with Caleb's land. He was rich in flocks, 
 and he was, at the date of the narrative, shearing his sheep in Carmel. At that 
 time, David and his armed men, outlaws and fugitives like himself, were hiding 
 in the neighbouring wilderness ; and day by day Nabal's pastoral wealth, and 
 those who tended it, had been at the mercy of David's band, without suffering 
 diminution or hurt ; but, on the contrary, they had been " a wall unto them both 
 ])y night and by day." David consequently expected to share in the feast pre- 
 pared for the shearers, as any modern Arab sheikh of the wilderness, who had 
 protected the flocks of his rich neighbour, would on a similar occasion. He sent
 
 H 
 
 t-' 
 
 o
 
 THE VALLEY OF ESIK '()L.--FEXrEI) flTIES OF .IFDAir. 35 
 
 messengers to gi'cct Nabal, in the ^vol■^ls tliut any native of Tak'stiiie wcnild use 
 at the present time : — "Thns shall yc say to him that livcth in prosperity, Peace 
 be lioth to tlice, and peace be to thine house, and peace be unto all that thou 
 hast." Then he set forth his claim for a portion of the food that was in prepara- 
 tion ; but his request was met b}^ Nabal with contumely and railing. " Who is 
 David ? and who is the sou of Jesse ? There be many servants now-a-days that 
 break away every man from his master. Shall I then take my bread and my 
 water, and my flesh that I have killed for my shearers, and give it unto men 
 whom I know not whence they be ?" 
 
 Nabal had a wife, named Abigail, " and she was a woman of a good under- 
 standing and of a beautiful countenance ;" and she and Nabal's servants knew his 
 character well, " that he was such a son of Belial that a man cannot speak to 
 him." The}' also seem to have rightly estimated the probable vigour of David's 
 rejoinder, for Abigail sent to David provisions which were luxuries compared 
 with those which he would have been satisfied with, and which her lord ha<l 
 refused; and then she set forth herself to meet him. She was only just in time, 
 for the sword was girded on the thigh, and David was already on his way to the 
 slaughter of Nabal and his race. But God designed otherwise, and made use 
 of woman's gentle tact, and woman's persuasive tongue, as his instruments to 
 check his servant in the career of blood, and to save him from sin. 
 
 Abigail, in her mediation, did not attempt to deny her husljand's wrong- 
 doing, or to gloss over his churlishness ; Init with the fear of God in her heart, 
 she argued gently and firmly with David's hot wrath. She knew that God 
 desia;ned him to rule over Israel. She advised the future monarch neither to 
 shed blood nor to avenge himself with his own hand ; and then, speaking of that 
 future time when he should reign over all the tribes of God's people, she said : 
 " This shall 1)e no grief unto thee, nor offence of heart unto my lord, either that 
 thou hast shed blood causeless, or that my lord hath avenged himself ; but when 
 the Lord shall have dealt well with my lord, then remember thine handmaid." 
 David's anger was checked, and he gave glory to the Almighty, and gratitude to 
 Abigail, as God's instrument, for her wise counsel, which had saved him from 
 crime ; and how earnest and heartfelt is the expression of that gratitude 1 
 " Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, which sent thee this day to meet me ; and 
 blessed be thy advice ; and blessed be thou which hast kept me this day from 
 coming to shed blood, and from avenging myself ^yith mine own hand." 
 
 David and Abigail parted and went their ways ; he to his hiding-place in 
 the wilderness, she to where her husband, in fancied security, " held a feast in his 
 house like the feast of a king," where, but for her intercession, blood would have 
 
 D 2
 
 30 THE VALLEY OF ESHCOL.-FE^X'ED CITIES OF JUDAIF. 
 
 Iliiwc'd as IVeel}^ as did the wine with which " Nabal's heart was merry within 
 liiiii, for lie was very drunken." In the nioniing his good wife tuld him the 
 danger he had incurred, aud the modo of liis escape. Then his boldness all fled, 
 and " his heart died within him, and lie became as a stone." About ten days 
 after, God smote Nabal that he died, aud left those riches whose stewardship he 
 had so flagrantly abused. David's first thought at the news of Nal)ars death was 
 one of thankfulness to the Lord who had kept his servant from evil. His second 
 was for Abigail's wisdom aud beauty. He at once sent messengers to her, and 
 she became his wife. 
 
 It should Ix' here mentioned, to prevent confusion of ideas, that this " Car- 
 mel," where Nabal had his possessions, is far distant from Mount Carrael, to the 
 north, on the Phreuician coast, the scene of f]lijah's sacrifice. The ruins of this 
 southern Carmel in Judali are extensive, and some of them very ancient. The 
 castle, from the style of its masonry, is probably of the time of Herod. Among 
 the ruins arc the remains of churches, showing that Carmel had at one time a 
 large Christian population. It is all desert now. About an hour aud a half 
 from Carmel is the little hill "Tell Zif," close to which are the ruins of Zipli, 
 whose people on two occasions betrayed David's hiding-place to Saul. On the 
 first occasion David was " in a mountain in the wilderness of Ziph," and though 
 " Saul sought him every day," yet " God delivered him not into his hand ;" and 
 here it was that Jonathan gave another proof of his strong, tender, and life-long 
 affection ibr the sou of Jesse, for lie " went to David into the wood aud 
 strengthened his hand in God." 
 
 In all history, sacred and profane, there is no more touching example of true, 
 unselfish, unwavering devotion of man to man than that of Jonathan for David. 
 Jonathan knew that his friend would deprive him of the throne to which he might, 
 Ijut for him, succeed ; but no thought of self entered his mind. He knew that 
 it was the will of Jehovah that David should rule Israel, aud he bowed his heart 
 without a murmur to that almighty will, aud rejoiced in the thought that his 
 friend would be his king. David now wandered into the wilderness of Maon for 
 a time, aud after that the Ziphites again betrayed his haunts to Saul, who sought 
 him in the wilderness of Ziph with three thousand chosen men of Israel. To no 
 purpose ; for the Lord watched over David, who penetrated Saul's camp at night, 
 and took the spear and cruse of water from beside the bolster of the sleeping 
 king. God here specially interposed in David's behalf; for "no man saw it nor 
 knew it, neither awaked ; for they were all asleep, because a deep sleep from the 
 Lord was lallen upon them." David spared his enemy when in his power, aud 
 God preserved him from all danger.
 
 ( ■'- ) 
 
 VII. 
 
 ANTIQUITY OF HEBEON.— THE POOLS OF SOLOMON. 
 
 The world after the flood must have been young when Hebron was founilcd. 
 Scripture tells us that it was Ijuilt "seven years before Zoan in Egypt;" but who 
 can tell when that was, for Zoan has disappeared, leaving no trace ? All that we 
 know for certain is, that it was a walled city when Abraham's tent was pitched 
 in Harare ; for when Sarah died, and he sought a torn)) for her, " the field of 
 Ephron which was in Machpelah which was before Mamre, the field and the cave 
 that was therein, and all the trees that were in the field, that were in all the 
 borders round a))out, were made sure unto Al^raham for a possession in the 
 presence of the children of Ileth l^efore all that went in at the gate of his city :" 
 " the same is Heljron, in the land of Canaan." From that early date almost 
 continuously down to the present day, it has been an inhaltitcd cit3^ It has 
 always been of considerable importance, though prol)aljly it has never been very 
 extensive. The earliest associations that cling round its name are all connected 
 with Abraham. 
 
 If a great nomad chief, such as Abraham was, can jje said to have had any home, 
 Abraham's home was at Hebron. Here took place many of the most awe-inspiring 
 events of his wonderful career, for here he talked with God as with a friend, and 
 here he was permitted to argue with the Almighty. Hebron in its present name 
 preserves a remembrance of Abraham's intimate communion with Grod. 
 
 It has borne several names, and probably its most ancient appellation is 
 unknown to us ; but at any rate at an early period it was called Kiijath Arlja, the 
 city of Arba — " which Arba was a great man among the Auakims." For a time it 
 seems to have been called " Mamre," and to have belonged to Abraham's friend 
 and ally in his expedition to rescue Lot and his family from the four kings. Then, 
 when Caleb captured it from the descendants of Anak and Arba, it received from 
 him the name most familiar to us, " Hebron," which, however, has been forgotten 
 for ages in this laud. In the time of the Crusades, the citadel to the north of 
 the great edifice over the tombs of the patriarchs was called " the Castle of 
 Abraham," and this name was used as including the town as well. By the 
 Moslems, Abraham is called " El Khulil," " The Friend " (of God), and they gave 
 this name to the city around his sepulchre, and by this name is it now known.
 
 08 THE TOOLS OF SOLOMON'. 
 
 IIcbro:i is an unquestioned site. No one has hazarded a doul)t upon the 
 subjeet; so that we may feel eoufident that it stands in close proximity to the old 
 city, and probably occupies part of its area, as the houses of the modern town 
 skirt the pools that belonged to David's capital. 
 
 Two reservoirs of great anticpiity still supply Ileln'on with water. The 
 lower pool is 133 feet square, Ijuilt with hewn stone, and is 22 feet deep. The 
 upper pool is 85 feet by 55 feet, and 19 feet deep. There is every probability 
 that one of these two great tanks was " the pool in Hebron," over which David 
 hanged up the hands and feet of Kechab and Baanah, the murderers of Ishbosheth, 
 Saul's son. Jewish traditions attribute the construction of these pools to Solomon, 
 ignorantly confounding them with the famous pools on the road between Hebron 
 and Jerusalem. To Hebron, after Ishbosheth's death, the tribes of Israel came, 
 and here they anointed David as their king. 
 
 "When Jndah was led into captivity, Hebron was destroyed, and it was during 
 this period, if ever, that it remained for a time uninhabited ; but upon the return of 
 the Jews from Babylon it was rebuilt. It then fell into the hands of the Edomites, 
 from whom Judas Maccabeus recaptured it. In a.u. 11 07 it was made a Latin 
 bishopric by the Crusaders; but from a.d. 1187 till the present time it has been 
 possessed altogether by the Moslems, who erected there a great mosque, which is 
 one of the most remarkable structures in Palestine. 
 
 That the cave of Maehpelah is inclosed within the walls of the great mo.=que 
 there is good reason to believe from the warranty of unbroken tradition, extend- 
 ing from patriarchal times to our own epoch. 
 
 A ride of about three hours from the Oak of Abraham reaches the far-famed 
 Pools of Solomon. A characteristic fragment of which, including part of the two 
 u])pcr pools and the extensive Saracenic fort, intended most probably to guard 
 tlie approach to Jerusalem, is given in the picture. 
 
 The pools are vast reservoirs constructed in a descending valley, so that the 
 bottom of the upper pool is higher than the margin of the one next below it. 
 The upper pool is the smallest, and the lower one the largest. The first measures 
 380 feet long-, it is 25 feet deep, and 23 G feet wide at the eastern end. The 
 western extremity is seven feet narrower. The middle pool is 423 feet long, 
 3!) feet deep, and of the same width as the upper pool, 236 feet. It is 160 feet 
 below the upper pool. The lower pool is 248 feet further down the valley than 
 the middle pool ; it is 582 feet long, 50 feet deep ; but it is only 207 feet wide at 
 its eastern extremity, and 148 feet wide at its western end. Of these pools, 
 and of the glory of their maker, Solomon, wc shall speak further. ^
 
 THE POOLS OF SOLOMON,
 
 ( 41 ) 
 
 YIII. 
 
 SOLOMON'S WORKS- THE TOWER OF DAYID. 
 
 Solomon's peaceful reign gave liim ample leisure for applying his mind to study 
 and reflection. In theory, his "heart had great experience of wisdom and 
 Icnovvledge ;" but ho determined to win practical experience for himself, and to 
 test the pleasures, the luxuries, the joys, the interests, the labours of rich and 
 poor— the aims, the struggles of life— with a view to estimate properly tlieir 
 value and their power in themselves to make man happy and contented during 
 the progress of his earthly pilgrimage. He tried fully, and tasted often of mirth 
 and laughter, of wisdom, of pleasure, and folly, even of knowledge carefully 
 acquired, and of labour guided by a successful issue ; but ere from the cup of 
 enjoyment the draught of satisfied desire was fully drained, there ever rose to liis 
 lips some bitter drop. God's grace at length guided Solomon's heart to a 
 right conclusion, and the injunction he gives to all posterity is, "Fear God." 
 Solomon found that for those who feared God and placed themselves in his hands, 
 there was no bitter drop lingering in the cup that held their draught of life. 
 
 It was while he was thus testing the good the earth contained, only to find 
 that without God it was nought, that he tells us, "I made me great works ; I 
 budded me houses ; I planted nie vineyards ; I made me gardens and orchards, 
 and I planted trees in them of all kinds of fruits ; I made me pools of water to 
 water therewith the wood that bringcth forth trees ;" and right royally did the 
 sumptuous monarch work out his experiment. " My wisdom remained with me, 
 and whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them ; I withheld not my heart 
 from any joy, for my heart rejoiced in all my labour." 
 
 The delicious gardens to which king Solomon was wont in his majesty to 
 ride prosperously, were made at Etham, about fifty stadia from Jerusalem. 
 
 Nearly a mile below the pools described before, the ruined village of 
 Urtas stands in a narrow rocky glen. This is the site of Etham ; here was that 
 " garden enclosed," fragrant with spices, radiant with flowers, and bountiful in 
 fruits. Down to its terraces, from the " pools of water " Solomon made, and 
 from "a spring shut up, a fountain sealed," streamlets flowed to water and 
 fertilize the garden.
 
 42 SOLOMON'S WORKS.-THE TOWEI! OF DAVID. 
 
 At Urtas still exist tlic foundations of a strong tower, a iniiiicd wall of licwn 
 stone, and grottoes and excavations in llic rocks, to wliicli Lave been added small 
 outworks of hovels or sheds by the present inhabitants of Solomon's retreat; 
 and in this mixed kind of dwelling they live, more than half underground. 
 
 In the ]}cd of the glen, whose sides now are stony and l)arren, there is a 
 small oasis of luxuriant garden, watered by a spring that rises near. One of 
 Solomon's kindred by blood — au Israelite wlio believes in Christ crucilicd — 
 tills the fruitful soil and gathers an abundant return for his labour. 
 
 Once a fortnight, one of the English missionaries in Jerusalem comes hither 
 to perform service with this convert from Judaism and his family. 
 
 The " pools of water " which Solomon made are partly excavated in the rock 
 and partly built of great hewn stones. From the source which supplies them, an 
 aqueduct winds through hill and dale to Jerusalem, and ends in the Haram, 
 where of old the temple stood. The distance is long, its winding course being 
 from twelve to fourteen miles. Water still flows through a considerable portion 
 of the aqueduct. 
 
 The copious spring which, according to the Talmud, supplied the Temple and 
 also watered the gardens of its builder, is in the open field above the pools. 
 All that is visible above-ground at the source is a round hole like the mouth 
 of a well, covered with a huge stone. Descending through this opening for 
 twelve feet, a vault, roofed with ancient and handsome stone arches, is reached. 
 This chamber is about 45 feet long and 24 feet broad; and another similar 
 vault, somewhat smaller, adjoins it. The water rises in four places, and is con- 
 veyed first into a basin and then by a large subterraneous passage towards 
 the pools, into which part of it falls, the rest being diverted by the aqueduct. 
 To keep up a constant supply for the Temple, there was a branch channel from 
 the second pool to the aqueduct. Another aqueduct, also, formerly conducted 
 the waters of a spring, situated among the hills more to the south, into the lower 
 
 pool. 
 
 The picturesque building at the upper pool is called Kalat el Burak, and was 
 intended as a fort and a caravansera combined ; dating from the Crusades. 
 
 The entrance to Jerusalem by the " Jafla Gate," or " Hebron Gate," is in 
 the citadel, the stronghold of modern Jerusalem in the days of the Crusades. An 
 engraving is given of its most prominent feature, the " Tower of David," or the 
 " Tower of Hippie us " as it almost indubitably is : it is one of the most impor- 
 tant relics of the many splendid edilices Herod raised.
 
 ( « ) 
 
 IX. 
 
 ROUTE FROM HEBRON TO JERUSALEM.— THE POOL OP 
 
 HEZEKIAH. 
 
 Lkaving Hebron, on the way to Jerusalem, for some distance tbe road lies 
 between tbe bigb walls wbicb inclose tbe vineyards : in some places it is paved 
 witb loose blocks of stone, and is very rongb and uneven ; in otber parts it 
 passes over solid rock, worn into boles by coustaut traffic ; but in spite of tbcse 
 asperities, it is uot a bad road over wbicb to ride a sure-footed Syrian Arab. 
 Emerging from tbe valleys of Mamre and Esbcol, tbe vines and olive trees, tbe 
 well-built terraces, and tbe abundant springs are left bebind, and tbe course lies 
 over wild bills, some being quite bare, wbile otbers are covered witb brusbwood, 
 dwarf oak, and arbutus. The soil in tbe valleys is ricb, and tbe bill sides 
 are all seamed witb tbe marks of ancient terraces, indicating tbe careful 
 cultivation carried ou bere of old. Now tbey only afford scanty pasturage for 
 flocks. Many ruins, varying in cbaractcr and extent, are passed, especially 
 near Hebron. Tbe village of Halbul stands on tbe site of tbe Hulbul mentioned 
 in Josbua, and soon after tbe remains of a large building witb a fountain near 
 it are seen. Tbe rocks around are scarped perpendicularly and excavated, 
 l)roliably for tombs, wbicb may bave been constructed by tbe Edomites during 
 tbeir possession of tbe district. Tbis is tbe site of Betbzur, and a half ruined 
 tower is called by tbe Arabs Beit Silr. 
 
 As in tbe south country, tbe bills are sometimes crowned with grey ruins 
 of ancient towns, and sometimes witb massive towers of defence or border forts. 
 The number of ruins passed after entering Palestine is extraordinarj', and 
 testifies both to tbe fertility of tbe land under its pristine conditions, and to tbe 
 numerous inhabitants who dwelt throughout its whole extent. Witb the sole 
 exception of Hebron, destruction has fallen upon all the edifices raised by man, 
 from " the tower of the watchman to the fenced city." 
 
 Approaching Solomon's Pools, ther.e is at one point a magnificent view to 
 the westward towards Pbilistia, through a cleft in the bills. This road, from 
 Hebron to Jerusalem, was for tbe whole of tbe last century quite unfrequented 
 by pilgrims or Frank travellers: during that period no one appears to have
 
 40 KOUTE FI.'OM TIEBPiOX TO .TERUSATJ'.M. -TTIE I'OnL OF II I:Z1:K lA II. 
 
 visited IIel)ron ; and for iiiaiiy yoars i)reviously its visitors had Ijeeu Init few. 
 Ill tiic rdiirteeiith century it was on tlie high road of the pilgrims between Sinai 
 and Jerusalem, and many went hither from the holy city who did not 
 adventure upon the risks and hardships of the desert pilgrimage to Sinai. lu 
 those times there was a hospital or institution at Hebron, Avhere charity was 
 dispensed on a vast scale. Twelve hundred loaves of bread, besides oil and 
 other articles of food, were distri))uted daily to all comers, of all creeds and 
 nationalities. The annual expenses were estimated at twenty-four thousand 
 ducats, part of which was derived from property in the neighbourhood belonging 
 to the hospital. In the fifteenth century, pilgrims began to take the G-aza route ; 
 and in the next century that by Heln'on was almost deserted. From that time 
 till the year 1806, Hebron was quite lost sight of; but then Seetzeu succeeded 
 in reaching it, on his road from Sinai, and Ali Bey followed him the next year. 
 Eleven years later it Avas visited by Captains Irby and Mangles; and thirteen 
 years afterwards by Ponjoulat. Monro also, in 1833, reached it from Jerusalem. 
 Since 1835 there have been no difficulties sufficient to deter travellers from 
 including the city of the patriarchs amongst the sacred sites they may visit in 
 Palestine. 
 
 Shortly after passing Solomon's Pools, the aspect of the country begins 
 to improve; and, looking back, the traveller gets glimpses of Bethlehem 
 and of a pretty village called Beit Jala, beautifully situated on a hill slope, 
 embowered amidst olive and fruit-tree groves. Here the Latin i)atriarch of 
 Jerusalem has a palace, and a large church has also been built by the Roman 
 Catholics. 
 
 Close to the road is a building claiming remark, for there was buried 
 Rachel, the lovely and the loved. Passing on and ascending a hill, the convent 
 of Mar Elias is reached. 
 
 Jerusalem now comes in sight, bereft, on this approach, of all the 
 characteristics of her imposing position. A road, or rather a track across a 
 plain, leads straight up to a line of grey, unpicturesque buildings at a distance ; so 
 that the walls and domes of the city seem to be built in the middle of the arable 
 land. There is no indication of the deep ravine which separates from the 
 lofty and precipitous brow on which the Temple stood ; for the level tal)le-land 
 only terminates upon the brink of the southern declivity, bounding the valley 
 of Hinnom. 
 
 The plain or valley on the left was that of Rephaim, " the A'alley of the 
 Giants." Along the road here traversed, David, the newly-anointed king of 
 Israel, marched to take possession of his future capital. Its then possessors
 
 THE rOOI, OK IIKZF.KIAII.
 
 EOUTE FROM IIEBROX TO JERUSALEM.— Til K POOL OF IlEZEKIATI. 40 
 
 defied the Lord's anointed; " ncvertlicless David took tlie stronj^liold of Zion ; 
 the same is the city of David ;" and tlien " David dwelt in the fort, and railed 
 it the city of David." Then the riiilistines heard of his accession, and nnirehod 
 against him, "and spread themselves in th(> valley of Rephaiin;" and "David 
 inquired of the Lord, saying. Shall I go up to the Philistines, and wilt thou 
 deliver them into ray hand? And the Lord said unto David, Go uj), for I will 
 doubtless deliver the Philistines into thine hand." David obeyed ; he smote 
 the Philistines, who left their images behind in their llight, " and David and his 
 men burned them." Again the Philistines "spread themselves in the valley 
 oflvephaim;" and this time again David inquired of the Lord, who commanded 
 liim not to meet them, l)ut to " fetch a compass behind them," and when he 
 heard " the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry trees," he was to bestir 
 himself, for the Lord was then going Ijeforc him to the slaughter of the Philistine 
 host. Again David obeyed, and the Lord performed his word given to his 
 servant. The plain of Pephaim was probably well known for its fertility, for 
 Isaiah alludes to him that " gathereth ears in the valley of Pephaim." 
 
 Crossing the valley of Hinnom, the traveller mounts the stocp i)ath to the 
 citadel. Many arc the theories concerning the hills, the walls, the gates, the 
 extent of the city, and about the positions of the great buildings they enclosed ; 
 but although a great diversity of opinion exists respecting the aucient boundaries 
 of Jerusalem, yet that mount on which stands the citadel — the tower or castle 
 of David — is certainly Mount Zion, the stronghold David won from the 
 Jebusites. 
 
 Upon Mount Zion in later days stood Herod's palace ; and in the city wall, 
 on the crest of ^Mount Zion, he built three splendid towers, called by the names 
 of his valiant and ill-fated friend, his devoted and unfortunate brother, and his 
 loved but murdered wife — Hippicus, Phasaiilus, and Mariamnc. These towers 
 were a marvel of workmanship, beauty, and strength. There is little doubt 
 that among the strong towers and massive walls of the citadel of Jerusalem — 
 the castle of David — there exists a relic of Herod's fortifications ; for one aucient 
 tower has been identified as that of Llippicus, which we are told was built up 
 entirely solid to the height of thirty cubits. It is the prevailing opinion that 
 the particular tower in the citadel commonly called " the tower of David " is in 
 reality that of Hippicus. 
 
 When Titus destroyed Jerusalem, he left standing Herod's three towers, 
 with part of the western wall of Zion, both as a citadel for the soldiers he placed 
 in garrison at Jerusalem, and as a monument to future ages of the vast streno'th 
 of the fenced city Roman valour had overthrown, 
 
 I-;
 
 no liOUTE FKOM IlEBKON TO JERUSALEM.— THE TOOL OF IIEZEKIAII. 
 
 The modem citadel is composed of an irregLilar group of square towers, 
 protected on the outer side by a deep fosse, with a sloping bulwark of ancient 
 masoury, which seems of Eoman workmanship, and was most likely constructed 
 by Adrian, when he rebuilt the city. On the inner side, a low wall runs round 
 the towers. The north-eastern tower, for about forty feet of its height, is built 
 of huge bevelled blocks, from nine to thirteen feet long, and four feet high ; 
 aljove this it is of modern construction. Its dimensions are a little more than 
 seventy feet by fifty-six feet. There is no entrance, either on one side or from 
 above, to tlie ancient portion of the tower, and no one knew of any chamber in 
 it. This evidence, so far as it goes, of a want of vacuity, in the mass of this 
 ancient structure, has been corroborated by the discovery that the lower part 
 is of solid rock, cut into shape, and faced with masonry, tallying so completely 
 in this respect with the account given by Joscphus, as almost to estaljlish for 
 certain its identity with the tower of Hippicus. 
 
 This tower is a definite point of the greatest value in attempts to trace the 
 walls and discover the chief localities of the city which saw the comjiletion of the 
 Redeemer's mission upon earth, for Josephus makes it the starting-point in his 
 description of the course of the first and third walls of the city ; and unless 
 we can establish the position of Hippicus, the account of Josephus will be 
 unintelligible, and consequently useless. 
 
 There is much ancient masonry in the lower part of the walls and towers of 
 the citadel, partly, no douljt, the remains of Adrian's fortress. "When the 
 Crusaders took Jerusalem in a.d. 1099, this citadel was the stronghold of the 
 city, and the last point surrendered to them. In those days it was called the 
 " tower " or " castle " of David, and is described as being very strong, and built 
 of large hewn stones. It derived its name either from its proximity to David's 
 tomb, or from the belief that it was built by that monarch. When the Moslems 
 destroyed the walls of the city, in a.d. 1219, they spared the citadel, and the 
 Franks continued to give it the name of " the tower of David " till the sixteenth 
 century, when it was called " the castle of the Pisans," in consequence of a 
 belief that it had been repaired by citizens of that republic. 
 
 Near the citadel is a picturesque and ancient pool or tank, which forms the 
 subject of the illustration. It is commonly called " the Pool of Hezekiah." A 
 Coptic convent stands on its brink, and over the roofs appear the tower and dome 
 of the church of the Holy Sepulchre.
 
 ( •■! ) 
 
 X. 
 
 JERUSALEM— THE TOMBS OF DAVID AND HIS SUCCESSORS— 
 THE "LARGE UPPER ROOM "—VIA DOLOROSA— ARCH OF 
 ECCE HOMO. 
 
 On the first view of Jerusalem, the aspect that the city presents to the majority 
 of travellers approaching her walls — those coraiug by all the most frequented 
 routes, from Joppa, from Gaza, from Hebron, and also to a certain extent from 
 Damascus — is anything but striking or impressive. Many travellers, who have 
 visited in a true pilgrim spirit the land where our Saviour's earthly pilgrimage 
 was performed, have expressed their great disappointment on first seeing the 
 holy city. But though at the first sight of Jerusalem we may not be affected 
 altogether according to our expectations, yet none the less will Jerusalem and 
 all that belongs to it make a deep and lasting imi)ression upon the mind, when 
 calmly and quietly, from the slope of Olivet, or the brow of the Mount of 
 Offence, or the summit of the Hill of Evil Counsel, we gaze on the scene of those 
 sufferings and that death which consummated the Divine work of redemption. 
 
 The English church at Jerusalem is well built and sufficiently handsome. 
 It is attached to the English consulate, and thus ol)tains the advantage of 
 British protection in a greater degree than it would if it were altogether isolated. 
 In excavating for its foundations, some interesting discoveries were made. In 
 digging downwards to find some secure resting-place for the foundation stones, 
 conclusive proof was afforded of the entire subversion of all the palaces, private 
 houses, and public buildings, which successively stood upon Mount Zion. It 
 was necessary to descend for nearly forty feet before a sound foundation could 
 ■be reached. All above that depth was ruins. The first stone was laid upon the 
 solid rock of Mount Zion, on the 28th of January, 1842, at a depth of thirty-five 
 feet below the surface, which was not the greatest depth attained by the founda- 
 tions. In excavating the last shaft for one of the foundation piers, an immense 
 conduit was discovered, partly hewn out of the rock, partly built of solid 
 
 E 2
 
 r,2 TOMP.S OF DAYTD AND II IS SUCCESSOI^S. 
 
 masoniT, and lined with ccniftiit an incli tliick. It is probaljle that this is the 
 conduit of Ilozx'kiah, by which lie Ijrought the waters of the fountain of Gihoii 
 to the west side of the city of David. 
 
 A large proportion of the plateau of Mount Zion lies without the present 
 walls of the city ; and in advance of these walls, on the brow of the hill to the 
 southward, stands a group of Ijuildings, one of which is supposed to cover the 
 rork-hcwn tombs of king David and his successors. That David, when he slept 
 with his fathers, was buried in the city of David, is certain. The word of God 
 tells us plainly that such was the fact, and also that fourteen succeeding 
 monarchs who sat on the throne of Jerusalem were buried on Mount Zion, but 
 not all of them with their father David in the sepulchre of the kings. It is 
 l>robable that the sepulchres of the kings were grouped together in an open 
 space, or " field," the tombs being excavated iu the rock, the monuments above 
 them standing on Zion's brow. Kehcmiah incidentally describes the situation 
 of these tombs in his account of the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem, and 
 his descri]»tion leads us to suppose that the sepulchres must be upon the southern 
 brow of Zion, either at or close to their reijorted site. Josephus says that 
 Solomon buried David with great pomp, and placed immense treasures along 
 with his body iu the tomb. 
 
 The situation of these tombs was well known in apostolic times ; for 
 St. Peter, speaking of David, saj's, " He is both dead and buried, and his 
 sepulchre is with us unto this day." In the fifteenth centur}-, the tombs are 
 referred to by several travellers, one of whom, Tucher of Kuremberg, a.d. 1479, 
 says that the Moslems had converted the crypt or lower story of the Cieuaculum 
 into a mosque, within which were shown the tombs of David, Solomon, and 
 the other kings. For upwards of four centuries, Christians, Jews, and Moslems 
 have agreed in regarding the mosque on Zion as the spot beneath which lie the 
 royal sepulchres of Judah's kings, and Jews may often be seen gazing sadly 
 upon the ancient building within whose ^^■alls they may not enter; and which 
 probably for near fifteen centuries has covered the royal psalmist's dust. 
 
 In this edifice is a large upper chamber, about fifty feet long by thirty 
 wide, that had been apparently a church of great antiquity. This chamber 
 claims l)y tradition descending from an early period, to Ijc the "large upper 
 room " where our Saviour celebrated the passover with his disciples. In this 
 room, too, it is said that the disciples were assem! jled^at Pentecost, when they 
 were all filled with the Holy Ghost. Other legends soon grouped themselves 
 around this spot. Arculf (a.d. 700) found that within the area covered by this 
 building, the Virgin Mary died and St. Stephen was martyred ; and yet later
 
 Tllli VIA DOLOROSA.
 
 MOUNT /rON AND THE VJA UOl.oiiOSA. 55 
 
 the monks iiddecl other oceuiTeiiccs ot interest to the long list ol' events cou- 
 uected with our Saviour's earthly career, supposed to have taken place here. 
 
 The most comfortable residence in Jerusalem is unquestionably the great 
 Armenian convent, which with its buildings and gardens covers a large 
 l)roportion of that part of the summit of Mount Ziou wdiich is inclosed within the 
 city wall. It is a noble and vast institution, and can afford accommodation to 
 three thousand pilgrims. 
 
 These are the sites upon Mount Zion most distinguished by their past 
 associations, the remainder with a long list omitted have been the suggestions ol' 
 knaves or enthusiasts. 
 
 A few words more upou time-honoured Ziou before entering the later- 
 built city, 
 
 This " stronghold of Zion," the hill fort of the Jebusites, was the parent of 
 Jerusalem — the original nucleus of the citj^ which Titus destroyed. Probably 
 Salem, the royal city of Mclchizcdek, stood here, and no doubt it was the first 
 spot occupied by buildings in the area of what was afterwards Jerusalem. It saw 
 the last struggle between the Jew and the Roman, when the rest of Jerusalem 
 was in ruins, and the soldiers of Titus filled the blood-stained courts of Clod's 
 desecrated temple. 
 
 Tlie mount of Zion was remarkably adapted by nature for a fenced city. 
 The almost level platform on its summit gave ample space for habitations, and 
 was bounded on three sides by craggy declivities falling into deep ravines. 
 From the earliest times, the resources of art had added to the natural defences, 
 and we have seen how its ancient possessors defied David and David's God. He 
 took the hill fortress, enlarged, adorned, and strengthened it, till he made it 
 worthy to be Israel's capital ; and then in many a passage we read how dear to 
 the warrior-king were those mighty ramparts whose protection he could, from his 
 own personal experience, so keenly appreciate, and how enthusiastic was his 
 admiration of its majesty and beauty. 
 
 For some centuries a narrow street, which zigzags through the modern 
 Jerusalem from the church of the Holy Sepulchre to the palace of the governor, 
 has been called the "Yia Dolorosa." Into this street tradition has brought 
 together the scenes of all the events, historical or legendar}', connected with the 
 crucifixion. The legendary sites begin at the palace of Pontius Pilate, now the 
 governor's palace, with two old built-up arches in the wall whicli mark the thresh- 
 old of the "Scala Santa" — the holy staircase — down wdiich our Saviour 
 descended from the judgment hall, and which was transported by Constantine to 
 the basilica of St. John Laterau at Eome, where, on days of high festival, crowds
 
 r,r, THE VIA I)0L01!0SA. 
 
 may be seen wearily toiling up step by step ou their knees. Next, the " Arcli of 
 the Ecce Homo " spans the street. This is the subject of the engraving. From 
 the window in the centre of the arch, Pilate is said to have exhibited Jesus to 
 the multitude with the exclamation, " Behold the man !"' The woman and 
 child represented in the foreground are from living specimens. 
 
 Continuing onwards, the sjwt is shown where the Saviour, fainting under 
 the cross, leaned against the wall of a house, and is said to have left a deep 
 impression upon the stone. Then, there is the spot where, meeting his mother, 
 he said, " Salve INIatcr!" and likewise the reputed house of Dives, and the stone 
 in front of it on which Lazarus sat. Then there is the place where our Saviour 
 fell with the cross, and, close b}', the house of St. '^''ero^ica, whose identical 
 handkerchief, tripled by some Eoraish miracle not recorded, is exhibited at Rome 
 and at two other Italian cities at one and the same time. The street now ascends 
 towards the church of the Holy Sepulchre, and is very picturesque, and from 
 this point is taken our sketch of the Via Dolorosa. The pavement is rugged, 
 and the houses rather prison-like. Their entrance doors are low, and the 
 windows grated or covered with cnp1joard-like projections, pierced with small 
 holes or latticed, to enable their inhabitants to look up and down the street. 
 These projecting windows, when they occur, break the monotony of the otherwise 
 blank walls. The street often dives under low archways and is almost dark ; 
 and here are more "stations," among which is the spot where the soldiers 
 compelled Simon to carry the cross, and the place where Christ said to the weep- 
 ing women, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me." 
 
 Now it is childish to suppose that this narrow street, with its sharp turns 
 and twists, precisely followed the course of one of the great thoroughfares of the 
 ancient city, after its almost total destruction, and the lapse of many centuries ; 
 and even if such an absurditv could be credited, it would but little assist iu the 
 identification of the sites enumerated. Still, these houses and walls and arches 
 and stones are implicitly believed by pilgrims to mark the actual spots where the 
 scenes we have referred to really took place, and a small knot of strangers, 
 devout and believing, may often be seen gazing reverently on the spots hallowed, 
 by such associations. 
 
 The two views of this " Via Dolorosa " give a good idea of the street architec- 
 ture of modern Jerusalem, and no better specimens could be found than these, 
 which occur at intervals throughout its windings. Its name is mentioned by none 
 of the early writers ; the lirst allusion to it being in jMarinus Sanutus, who wrote 
 in the fourteenth century. We may therefore presume that its name and its 
 " stations " are inventions of ecclesiastics.
 
 THE ARCH OF THE ECCE HOMO.
 
 ( il' ) 
 
 XI. 
 
 GETHSEMANE. 
 
 The even was come, and Christ sat down with his twelve cliosen followers, ia the 
 large upper room near the grave of his forefather in the flesh, to that repast 
 which Christian churches of all creeds have held in continual remembrance. 
 The eventful meal was ended ; "and when they had sung a hymn, tliey went out 
 into the Mount of Olives." " And they came to a place which was named G-eth- 
 semane; and he saith to his disciples, Sit ye here, while I shall pray. And he 
 taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and 
 to be very heavy ; and saitli unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto 
 death : tarry je here, and watch. And he went forward a little, and fell on the 
 ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him." 
 
 It was night, and the wearied apostles slumbered, while the dire struggle 
 that was to work out their salvation was inaugurated ; and upon the frail humanity 
 of even those favoured three, Avho were especially chosen to give their Master 
 companionship' in his dread hour of sorrow, Jesus could not rely for one hour of 
 wakcfid sympathy. There, Ijcneath the grey olive boughs, silvered by the pure 
 rays of the clear moon. He who had put on mortality strove against mortal terror 
 at the approaching hour of death. There, alone among the olive trees, he prayed, 
 "Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me ; nevertheless, not my will, 
 but thine be done." And then " there appeared unto him an angel from heaven, 
 strengthening him ; and being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly ; and his 
 sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling' down to the ground." 
 
 Hither, through the shadowy olive groves, came Judas with a band of men 
 and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, and with one kiss betrayed at 
 once his Master's life and his own soul. Here, among the grey old trees, Peter, 
 the loving, the hasty, the zealous, the unstable, smote the high priest's servant 
 with the sword, and gave the mighty spiritual Physician an opportunity of work- 
 ing for the last time on earth a miracle of healing upon a mortal's ailing frame. 
 He, who could command the help of legions of angels — He, at whose simj^le word 
 the great multitude, with tlicir lanterns and torches and weapons, went back- 
 wards and fell to the ground — wanted not the aid of a man's feeble sword, but of
 
 fiO GETITSEMANE. 
 
 his own will (odk the cup Iiis Fatlicr gave him, nml drank it to the dregs, that so 
 tlic Boriptiii-c might )k; fiillillcd. Here, amidst tlic shadows ol' the pale groves, 
 with calm, resolute purpose, and unalterable determiuatiou of heart, he stood 
 forth boldly as the Taplain of our salvation, to Ijc made " pcrfeet through 
 suO'ering." 
 
 Descending the Via Dolorosa, up which it is related that Christ bore his 
 cross, going forth by St. Steplicu's Gate, and down a steep hill into the depths of 
 the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and crossing a bridge over tlie almost dry water- 
 course of the Brook Kidron, we come to a group of aged olive trees, surrounded 
 by a high white wall. This enclosure is at the very foot of the ]\Iount of Olives, 
 and licre or hereabouts was that garden over the Brook Kidron, whither Jesus 
 was wont to go forth with his disciples. "And Judas also which Ijctrayed him 
 knew the place, for Jesus oft-times resorted thither with his disciples." That 
 garden w'as Gethsemane. 
 
 More than fifteen centuries ago, tradition pointed out the space encompassed 
 by the wall as the real spot M'here the dread scene of the " agony " took jjlace ; 
 and, doubtless, the ancient trees which that wall hedges in stand within or upon 
 the verge of the Garden of Gethsemane. Here, under just such aged olive trees 
 as tliese, perhaps beneath trees that sprang from the self-same roots which now 
 supply these with sap, the disciples may have slumbered. A little further on, 
 Peter, James, and John, out-wearied with their sorrow, may have slept ; whilst 
 their Lord, seeking a more secluded spot, went onward along the base of the 
 hill, and "was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down and 
 prayed." 
 
 Perhaps on this very spot all the events recounted occurred, or possibly the 
 absolute site may have been one or two hundred 3'ards further along the foot of 
 Olivet. At any rate, Ave may feel confident, if we wander for two or three 
 hundred yards through these scattered olives, that our feet have pressed the 
 sacred soil of Gethsemane's garden. 
 
 The Latiu ecclesiastics, not long ago, got exclusive possession of the plot of 
 ground mentioned above, and built the wall round it. Not, however, for the 
 sake of protecting the trees, but to enable thcni to levy toll upon all those 
 strangers and pilgrims who would naturally visit the sacred garden. Though 
 the space within the wall is only about eighty yards square, it yields a better 
 revenue than many and many an acre of corn-land and olive-yard would render; 
 and all toil of cultivation is saved. To stimulate the liberality of the ignorant 
 and blindly credulous pilgrims, a nunJjcr of holy places are exhibited by the 
 monks within this narrow si^ace. They show a rocky bank where the disciples
 
 GETIISEMANE. 63 
 
 slept whilst their Lord praycil, aud point out the impressions left by their bodies 
 iipou the hard stone. Then they take the pilgrim to the " Grotto of the Agony," 
 a cave in which they say our Saviour's prayers were offered up ; and then they 
 point out the exact spot where Judas stood, where he betraj^ed his Master with 
 a kiss. This Latin speculation has paid so well, that the Greeks have enclosed a 
 similar space close by, aud stand up for their plot of garden ground as the 
 genuine Gethseraane. The Armenians are about to follow their example. The 
 Greeks have not been so fortunate in the trees surrounded by the wall they have 
 lately built, as their Latin brethren, for the trees eucomioassed by it are wanting 
 in antiquity ; and as they do not now exhibit their garden to the strangers of 
 western and southern Europe, rumour says that they want to wait a few years 
 till the trees grow a little. Thus do those who profess Christ's religion dishonour 
 his name by their deceit and greed of gain, and profane this most sacred of all 
 the places connected with his mortal career, whose situation we arc able with 
 certainty to identify. 
 
 The Latins, of course, assert that the old trees within their garden are the 
 very trees which saw the Jews lay violent hands upon their King and their God, 
 who walked among them in human seeming aud humble guise. Travellers have 
 remarked upon the disproportion between the huge trunks of the old olives, and 
 their small heads and scanty foliage, which give them the appearance of having 
 been pollarded. This characteristic may be observed to a considerable extent in 
 the group in our illustration ; but many of the oldest trees, both within and 
 scattered around the enclosure, have this feature even more strongly marked. 
 
 In approaching Gethsemane from the bridge over the Kidron, the Chapel of 
 the Virgin is passed, containing, according to tradition, her tomb. This stands 
 at the northern end of a sunken court, into which a flight of steps descends at 
 the opposite extremity. Inside the inner arch is the doorwaj^, whence a long 
 flight of steps leads downward to the chapel. This is excavated in the rock, and 
 was an ancient tomb. On the right hand are shown the tombs of Joachim and 
 Anna, the parents of the Virgin, and on the left that of Joseph, the virgin's 
 husband. At the extremity of the grove is a small dark chapel, containing the 
 tomb where once the Virgin's corpse was laid. It is profusely decorated with 
 pictures and flowers, and from the vault hang numbers of silver lamps and orna- 
 mented ostrich eggs. The front of the chapel, and its situation in the excavated 
 court, are curious and picturesque. It is ancient aud venerable in appearance, 
 but its history is comparatively recent ; for the first mention of it is by Arculfus, 
 a French bishop, in the beginning of the eighth century. His testimony with 
 respect to it has an additional interest, for it proves that the legend of the
 
 04 -. GETIISEMANE. 
 
 Assumption of tlie Virgin liad not been invented wlicn he wrote : for he, as well 
 as John the presbyter, of Damascus, who was afterwards canonized, and wlio 
 wrote a few years after Arculfus, speak of tlie Virgin's body. The tradition 
 Avhich calls this cave the Virgin's tomb, and the doctrine of the Assumption, arc 
 both directly opposed to a decree of the general council held at Ephesus, A.n. 
 341, in which it was asserted that the Virgin and the favourite disciple St. John, 
 to whose care she was committed by her Son, were buried in Ephesus, in the 
 verv church in which the council was then assembled. Notwithstanding this 
 decree of a general council, and in spite of the evidence given by a bishop and 
 by a saint, the churches both of Rome and the east have for centuries maintained 
 that the Virgin was laid in this tomb, and then that the miracle of the Assump- 
 tion took place ; and they venerate this site accordingly. They arc singularly 
 unfortunate in the holy places of this underground shrine, for both Joachim and 
 St. Anne have other tombs beneath the ancient church of St. Anne. 
 
 Monks will u[)hold their preposterous inventions in the face of all evidence 
 and authority, however conclusive ; and in this case one of the fraternity defended 
 these false sepulchres on the ground that there was no reason why a person 
 should not have two or three tombs as well as two or three houses. The tradi- 
 tions respecting the Assumption tell us that as the Virgin Mary mounted upwards 
 to the sky in the presence of the disciples, St. Thomas, the incredulous, again 
 evinced unbelief in the palpaljle miracle which took place before his eyes ; and 
 that, to convince him of its reality, the Virgin, as she ascended, dropped her 
 girdle at his feet. The rock on Avhich it fell is still supposed to retain a winding 
 indentation, said to Ije the impression of the girdle miraculously made, and 
 preserved " for the conviction of all such as shall suspect the truth of the story of 
 the Assumption." 
 
 In the chapel of the Virgin are altars belonging to various sects ; and the 
 unseemlj^ squabbles of modern Christians of different denominations desecrate the 
 sacred neighbourhood of Gethsemane — the influence of whose solemn associations 
 is powerless to check their rivalries and animosities, or to infuse some little 
 Christian charitv into their hearts.
 
 ( ^.- ) 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE YALLKY OF JE1108IIAPHAT. 
 
 'I'liK deep valley on (he oast ofJoriisiiU'in, now callcMl Uk; \':ill('y of Jcliosliapliat, 
 (loos not appoar to lio inonlioiiod l»y that iiaiiio, eillier in the (Jld or Now Tosta- 
 inciit, Init is always spoken of as the Yalley of the Urook Kidron. A " ^'alloy of 
 Jehoshaphat" is spoken of liy the prophet Joel (ehap. iii. '2, 12, 11): " 1 will 
 gather all nations, and bring them down into the A^dley of Jehoshaphat." And 
 again: " Multitudes, nuiltitudes in the valley of decision; for the day of the 
 Lord is near in the valley of decision." But here no deliinte place is pointed 
 out, and the word Jehoshaphat is probably used in consequence of its signi- 
 fication, which is "Jehovah jndgotli," and refers to the judgment the Lord 
 will execute on his ononiies and the oppressors of his peoi)l(\ Josephus gives the 
 name of Kidron to the valley, and we have uo historical ground for giving it 
 another name. 
 
 There cerlainl}' is an idea prevalent amongst the Uoman Catholics, Jews, 
 and Mohammedans, that this valley will be the scene of the last judgment; and 
 in consequence of this belief all three creeds have arbitrarily given it the name of 
 the "A^Tlley of Jehoshaiiliat." 'J'his change of appellation dates from an early 
 period of the Christian era, for the valley is so called by Eusebius and other 
 writers of the fourth century. 
 
 When Josiah was destroying idolatry in Judaii, he burned the grove sacred 
 to Baal, and all the host of heaven, at the Brook Kidron ; "and stamped it small 
 to powder, and cast the powder thereof upon the graves of the children of the 
 people." From this passage it would seem that a part of the valley was used as 
 a burying-place l)y the Jews at a very distant period. In more modern days, it 
 was, and still is, considered b}' Israel's children as the most advantageous spot in 
 which their mortal remains can be interred. Thousands of yVbraliam's descen- 
 dants have travelled hither from distant lands, when old asi'c and failing strength 
 warned them that their time on earth was short, for the sole purpose of finding 
 graves on the eastern slope of the Yalley of Jehoshaphat. All along the loft 
 bank of the ravine and nj) the sides of Olivet, their white tombstones are so 
 thickly planted as in many places to resemble a pavement of thick and broad
 
 60 TME VALLEY OF JEIIOSHAPIIAT. 
 
 flagstones, shaken asunder and disjointed by some eonvnlsion. Above tliLs 
 valley, upon the Mount of Olives, the Jews believe their Messiah will stand on 
 the niorniiig of the resurrection, and will summon all the dead from the dust. 
 The mountain will be cleft asunder, and those who are Ijuried in this favoured 
 spot will at once rise from their tombs and instantly appear in the presence of 
 their God and King ; whilst those who have been buried in distant lands will 
 have to make a toilsome and painful journey, burrowing like moles underground, 
 from their far-off sepulchres, till they can emerge like the others from the earth 
 of this valley : the surface of its soil thus becoming the portal of the resurrection 
 through ^\]li^h all the dead must pass to their new life. The Moslems have 
 adapted this tenet of the Jews to their own creed; and at the top of a lofty wall 
 of the Haram, standing high aljove on the crest of the western steep, they point 
 out a column projecting horizontally from the walls, as destined to be the throne 
 of the prophet jNIohammed on the day when he shall judge the world. There he 
 will sit in judgment, and, according to the belief of some Moslems, from the 
 small arched window close to his throne, a bridge no broader than a razor's edge 
 will cross the deep glen to the opposite mountain side. Along that fearful path 
 all mankind will have to travel. To the faithful of Islam supernatural help will 
 be given, which will uphold tliem as they traverse the yawning chasm ; but all 
 who believe not in the pro[)het's mission will l^e left to their own unaided powers, 
 their footing will fail them, and they will be precipitated into the depths of the 
 abyss below. 
 
 The first mention of the " Brook Kidron " in Scripture is in the account of 
 king David's flight from Jerusalem, when Absalom revolted at Hebron. " The 
 king also himself passed over the Brook Kidron, and all the people passed over, 
 toward the way of the wilderness." The channel of the Kidron is now, and 
 apparently always has been, nothing more than the bed of a winter torrent. 
 There is no continuous flow of water along its course, even in the winter; but 
 occasionally, after violent storms of rain, a great volume of water rushes down 
 it, for it then receives all the surface water from the sides of the neighbouring hills. 
 The head of the Valley of Jehoshaphat, or of the Kidron, is to the north- 
 ward of Jerusalem, near the tomb of the Judges. The country here is very 
 rock}', and there are many ancient tombs and quarries. For some distance the 
 valley is shallow and stony ; opi)Osite the northern extremity of the city it is 
 wide and cultivated; its sides then approach nearer, and it rapidly deepens till, 
 just opposite the south-eastern corner of the Haram, it becomes a mere ravine 
 between high mountains. After this, it passes the village of Siloam, there joins 
 the Talley of Hinnoni ojiposite the Mount of Offence, and after passing between
 
 o 
 
 r- 
 r
 
 Tiir: A-.\rj,KV of .tettoshaimiat. r.o 
 
 thai hill uihI the Hill oF i^il ('(Hiiiscl, turns oH' liliiicsL at a riiilit aiiiile in a 
 south-easterly direction, and inii-siics its conrse towards the Dead Hea. Through- 
 out its whole extent down to this pnini, its mcky sides ai-e i'lill of exeuvated 
 toMibs. 
 
 The most remarkable group of these roek-hcwn sepulchres is situated in the 
 narrow ravine we have uieutioncd. These monuments are four in nuud)er, and 
 are cut out of the face of the same rock. They are called the Tomb of Jehosha- 
 phat, the Tomb or " IMUar " of Absalom, the Tomb of St. James, and the Tomb 
 of Zacharias. The sepulchres of Absaloin and Zacharias are monuments of rock 
 standing separate from the rock out of which they Lave been hewn: the others 
 are excavated chambers, with ornamental portals, in the scarped face of the cliff. 
 The tomb of Jehoshaphat (not the king of that name, for he "was burieil with 
 his fathers in the cit}' of David his father") is almost hidden from view, its 
 entablature alone being visible above the ruljbish heaped up at its entrance. It 
 has a strange appearance, rising, Avith its richly ornamented pediment, as it were 
 out of the heart of the mountain. 
 
 In the Scriptural account of the judgment with which Gnd visited Al)salom's 
 unnatural rebellion, we read : " Now Absalom in his lifetime had taken and 
 reared up for himself a pillar, which is in the king's dale; for he said, ' I have 
 110 son to keep my name in remembrance ;' and he called the pillar after his own 
 name, and it is called unto this day Absalom's Place." 
 
 The monument to which Absalom's name is now affixed has for many 
 centuries been believed by the Jews to be the pillar mentioned in the passage 
 of Samuel just quoted ; and during all that time they have beeu in the habit of 
 spitting at the monument and throwing stones at it, when they passed by, to 
 mark their detestation of his parricidal reljellion. They also bring their childrLii 
 here, and tell them the story of Absalom's doom, as a warning to them to avoid 
 Absalom's sin. The faces of the structure are scarred, and its base heaped u[) 
 and encumbered with the stones that have been cast at it from time immemorial. 
 The lower part of the pillar is cut out of the solid clitf, from which it is isolated 
 by a broad passage excavated round it ; and behind it, in one of the i)crpendicnlar 
 faces of this area, is the portal of the tondj of Jehosha])hat, proving that the 
 latter tomb is the most modern. It is twenty -four feet square, and is ornamented 
 on each side with two columns and two half columns of the Ionic order, with 
 pilasters at the corners. The architrave has Doric ornaments, and the cornice has 
 an Egyptian character. Aljove this, the tomb is built of masonry of great stones, 
 and is of singular architecture, the square edifice beir-g surrounded by a cylinder, 
 on the top of which is a curious concave curved pyramid, crowned ))y a tuft of
 
 70 THE VALLEY OF .lEIIOSHAl'HAT. 
 
 leaves or an opening ilower. The whole height is fifty-four feet. In the lower 
 part is a small ehamber eight feet square, with two recesses, each two feet 
 deep. 
 
 Excavated in the face of the same cliO; a little Inrtlier to the southward, and 
 about fifteen feet from the ground, is the tomb of St. James. Its front is an open 
 portal, supported by two columns and two half columns, of the Doric order, over 
 which is a Doric frieze, with triglyphs, and a cornice. The porch is eightceii 
 icct wide l)y nine deep. On the east, a plain door leads from it into the principal 
 sepulchral chamber, whose dimensions are about seventeen feet by fourteen, from 
 which open three smaller chambers, with recesses for bodies. On the north side 
 of the vestibule are a door and staircase to the rock overhead; and on the south 
 side a door and passage cut through the rock lead to the monument of Zacharias, 
 and this is the ordinary entrance to St. James' tomb. 
 
 The tomb of Zacharias is altogether cut out of the solid rock, and is very 
 similar in character to the pillar of Absalom, but it is surmounted by a quad- 
 rangular pyramid. The monument apparently is solid. 
 
 No one has beeu able to fix the age of these four tombs, or to Ijring 
 forward any evidence whatever as to who may have been their tenants. There 
 seems no probability that any one of them has a right to the name it bears. 
 From their architecture we should conclude that they are of a later period than 
 most of the rock-hcAvu sepulchres about Jerusalem. It has been suggested that 
 the Grecian decorations may have been cut upon Absalom's original pillar, but 
 this is mere guess-work, for we have not even the warranty of ancient tradition 
 for its identification with that monument. It was not till the twelfth century 
 that it was so called, and long before then it had been spoken of as the tomb of 
 Hezekiah. 
 
 The tomlj of Zacharias is said to have been erected to the memory of 
 Zechariah, the son of Jehoiada, Avho w^as stoned by the people " at the command- 
 ment of the king, in the court of the house of the Lord," because he boldly si)ake 
 God's word to them and their king Joash. But in the fourth century, the 
 Jerusalem Itinerary calls it the tomb of Isaiah, and in the twelfth century it is 
 described as the sepulchre of king Uzziali. The Jews, who look upon Absalom's 
 tond) witli horror, greatly reverence that of Zacharias, and prayers offered up at 
 it are supposed to be of peculiar efficacy. Every Jew wishes to be buried as 
 near to it as possible.
 
 ( 'I ) 
 
 XIII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ANTIQUARIES IN JERUSALEM. 
 
 The very stones of Jerusalem are dear to the Christian ; Init tlie heart of the 
 Christian is not the only one in which Jerusalem has a place. The Jew regards 
 her as the metropolis and the loved home of his race : and she is one of the most 
 holy cities of the Moslem. Of late years antiquarians and archajologists have made 
 Jerusalem and its neighbourhood one wide battle-field. Learned and pious men 
 whose minds are stored with historj^, scriptural and secular, and wliose hearts 
 earnestly desire truth, view the localities of the holy city in their present state, 
 and continually, from the same facts, arrive at conclusions strangely dissimilar. 
 
 It is cheering to the Christian's heart, among all these conflicts of the zealous 
 and the learned, among all the claims put forward, whether by the simple and 
 credulous or by the interested and knavish, to liglit upon some spot concerning 
 which no rational doubt can exist ; to feel certain that we are on the real scene 
 where Christ wrought one of his miracles, and that Jesus the God-man, who 
 worked such wonders and endured such sufferings for us, really stood where we 
 stand and looked upon what we now see. The learned may dispute about Akra 
 and Bezetha, the limits of the third wall, and the course of the famous " Valley 
 of the Cheesemongers ;" yet we can trust to the great leading features which 
 Grod's hand stamped upon the land at its creation, and we can surely identify 
 Zion, Moriah, Olivet, Gihon, Hinuom, and the Kidron ; we can but guess at the 
 northern boundary of the city, but we know to within a few yards where the 
 Redeemer prayed and his disciples slumljcred in Gcthscmane. 
 
 ]\Iany places have for lifteen centuries borne titles conferred on them by the 
 early Christians; and others, more recently dignified by a sacred connexion, are 
 called by no other names than those which have been erroneously given them. 
 
 The tomb of St. James, for instance, docs nut pretend to have ever held Iiis 
 corpse^ but it received its name from a traditional incident in his history whidi 
 may never have occurred. It is related that when St. James saw the Redeemer 
 dead upon the cross, he called to mind our Lord's predictions about his resurrec- 
 tion, and with an active faith in his Master's words, he vowed that he would 
 neither eat nor drink till he should see his Lord risen again from the grave. In
 
 72 CniilSTIAN ANTIQUARIES IN JERUSALEM. 
 
 the recesses of this tomb lie hid himself till the third day. Then as he was with 
 the other a])ostles, onr Lord ajipeared and said, " Arise and eat ; for I am now- 
 risen from the dead." 
 
 From the fourth ceutiuy, when foreign ecclesiastics crowded to Jerusalem, 
 and api)ended Scriptural names and Bible stories to every monument aljout the 
 holy cit}', the traditions respecting the particular group described in the last 
 chapter seem to have continually varied. We have mentioned that the two 
 monoliths called after Absalom and Zacharias arc spoken of in the Jerusalem 
 Itinerary (a.d. 333) as dedicated to Isaiah and Hezekiah ; but Adamnanus, 
 abont A.D. G97, calls one the tond) of Jehoshaphat, and says that the two 
 excavated sepulchres near it were those of Simeon the Just and Jose})h the 
 husband of the Virgin Mary. 
 
 The view engraved in the last chapter is taken from the interior of the 
 vestibule of the so-called tomb or cave of St. James, looking down the valley of 
 Jehoshaphat towards the village of Siloam. Nearer to us, tlie dark hill face of 
 Mount Moriah descends to the bed of the Kidron, which is hidden by an 
 intervening Ijrow thickly studded with Jewish gravestones. This burial-place is 
 of more modern date than that upon the hill above the monuments, and is 
 called " The House of the Living." It was almost a matter of course that the 
 monks would connect some spots in the vicinity of Jerusalem with the memory 
 of St. James, the son of Zebedee ; but we have no trustworthy evidence in 
 favour of the authenticity of the reputed site of his martyrdom, nor does the 
 legend of the cave rest on good authority. 
 
 Descending the Yalley of Jehoshaphat we come to the Fountain of the Virgin 
 
 called by the Arabs, "The Fountain of the Mother of Steps." Nothing iu the 
 
 neighbourhood of Jerusalem bears more distinctly the traces of high antiquity 
 
 than does the approach to this spring. The water rises at the bottom of an 
 
 artificial cavern tweuty-five feet deep. Descending a flight of steps, a large 
 
 arched chamber is reached, from whence another flight of steps leads down to a 
 
 rude cave where the water issues from the rock. The fountain is remittent, and 
 
 at irregular intervals the water suddenly rises iu the cave and flows off through 
 
 its underground channel with a much stronger current, and, after a few minutes 
 
 perhaps, it suddenly ebbs. In summer, sometimes the spring is dry, and the 
 
 people who draw their supplies from it wait around with their thirsty animals, 
 
 until suddenly the water bubbles up and gives a plentiful stream. Possibly this 
 
 may have been the Pool of Bethesda, the scene of our Lord's nuracle upon the 
 
 impotent man. An underground channel conducts the water from this fountain 
 
 to the Pool of Siloam, engraved in this chapter.
 
 TIIK POOL OF tiU.OAJl.
 
 xiy. 
 
 THE WATERS OP SILOAM AND THE KING'S GARDEN. 
 
 'J'liK "Fountain of tlic Virgin" is so called from a tradition that the \'irgin 
 Mary, l)efore her purification, there washed the clothes of the infant Jesils. It 
 is also called the " Fountain of Accused Women," from a story that women 
 used to be made to drink its waters as a kind of ordeal. If guilty, they died 
 the moment they tasted it. 
 
 As long ago as the beginning of the seventeenth century, it was known that 
 the waters of this fountain were carried off by an excavated channel, and of 
 late the current belief was that they supplied the Pool of Siloam. Dr. Robinson, 
 and his companion, Mr. Eli Smith, set this question at rest. They first entered 
 the tunnel, through which water flov/s into the Pool of Siloam, and made their 
 way along its course for a distance of eight hundred feet. For the first hundred 
 feet the passage was from fifteen to twenty feet high, for another hundred feet it 
 was from six to ten feet in height ; then it sank to four feet, and gradually 
 l)ecame lower and lower till the explorers found they could only proceed by 
 crawling on all-fours through the water. As they were not dressed in a 
 costume that made this mode of progress convenient, they desisted from their 
 attempt for the time, and having traced their initials and the figures 800 witli 
 the smoke of their candles on the roof, they retraced their steps. A few days 
 afterwards they returned to the pool, and proceeding aliove ground, measured its 
 distance from the fountain, and found it to be eleven hundred feet ; and as they 
 liad already traversed more than two-thirds of that distance under ground, they 
 commenced operations this time at the Fountain of the Virgin, hoping that their 
 subterranean journey would not exceed three hundred, or, at most, four hundred 
 feet. They descended to the fountain, and there taking off their clothes, dressed 
 themselves in wide Arab drawers, and entered the channel on all-fours ; but it 
 became so low that they could only get forward by lying down at full length 
 and dragging themselves along by their elbows. They came to many turns and 
 zigzags, and places where the workmen had cut forward for some distance ; and 
 then, finding that they had left the right direction, had gone back and begun 
 again at a different angle. The exi)lorers went on so long that they feared they 
 were pursuing a channel which did not communicate with the one which they
 
 7G THE WATERS OF SIL0A5I AND THE KING'S GARDEN. 
 
 Iiiul pi'cviou.sIy entered; but lit leiigtli, to iheii' great reiiel', alter having erept 
 along in an extremely cramped and fatiguing attitude for nine hundred and lifty 
 feet, they came to their former mark on the roof of the channel, and proved the 
 existence of a passage between the Fountain of the Virgin and the Pool of Siloaru, 
 and that the popular surmise was well founded. The whole passage is cut out 
 of the solid rock, and is seventeen hundred and fifty feet long. Its width 
 throughout is two feet. It is evident that workmen began to excavate at Ijoth 
 ends, and met somewhere in the middle ; and the reason why the channel is so 
 mucli more lofty at the lower end seems to be that the workmen there began at 
 too high a level, and when they met the shaft from the other side, finding that 
 the water would not flow all the way, they then cut down the lower end till the 
 stream ran through. The descent is but slight, and the water flows smoothly 
 and softly down it to the Pool of Siloam. 
 
 It is supposed that the head of the spring, whose waters are first seen at 
 the Fountain of the Virgin, is somewhere beneath tlie area of the Temple ou 
 Moriah ; but the iuclosurc of the I\Ioslem Ilaram is forl)idden ground to Christian 
 topograph ists, so that, at present, the source of the stream must remaiu a secret 
 to us. Its outlet, however, Avhere in the Pool of Siloam it first sees the light 
 of da}', was sanctified by one of the most important miracles wrought by our 
 Lord upon earth. 
 
 The last day — the great day — of the feast of Tabernacles was ended, and 
 "Jesus went unto the Blount of Olives ; and early in the morning he came again 
 into the Temple, and all the people came unto him, and he sat down and taught 
 them," until at last the Jews, blinded by fanaticism, took up stones to cast at 
 him. Jesus then going through the midst of them so passed by ; and as he 
 passed by, he saw a man who was blind from Lis birth, not because of his own 
 or his parents' sin, but because it was predestined that in his person God was 
 to be glorified. The " Light of the World " anointed the blind man's eyes, and 
 said, " Go, wash in the Pool of Siloam (which is by interpretation. Sent). He 
 went his way therefore and washed, and came seeing." Scarcely was his natural 
 sight restored, before temptation assailed him and persecution threatened him ; 
 but spiritual eyesight was given to him strong and clear by the same Power that 
 had wrought the more palpable miracle, and in the strength of his faith and 
 gratitude he boldly testified before men, and, careless of consequences, openly 
 proclaimed that from God alone could have come such a cure as his. The new 
 convert was cast out of the synagogue ; but Jesus found him, and guided to a 
 more accurate and complete knowledge of himself his young disciple's earnest 
 trust and fearless zeal. The man whose eyes were so lately opened, saw and
 
 THE \VATl':iW OK SII.OAM AND Till': KING'S GAllDKN. 7!) 
 
 talked witli Jesus liis bcucfaetor ; and (.hen, in full heliel' that lie was in very 
 trutli the Son of God, he woi'ship{)ed him. 
 
 More than eighteen centuries have flown since in Siloani's jiool the IjUikI 
 man washed from his eyes the clay placed there by the finger ol'Iiis Saviour; and 
 in that very pool, in water flowing from its ancient source, the traveller may 
 dip his hands and drink. Of the identity of the pool, supplied by the conduit 
 described above, with the scene of the miracle, there is no doubt whatever. 
 Josephus often mentions the fountain of Siloam, and tells us its exact situation 
 in the mouth of the valley of the Tyropaeon. The Jerusalem Itinerary, a.d. ;)33, 
 speaks of the pool and its position. Jerome describes the locality of the pool, 
 and is the first writer who alludes to the irregular flow of its waters. Antoninus 
 Martyr in the seventh century, the monk Bernard in the ninth, and the historians 
 of the Crusades, place the pool or fountain of Siloam in its present site. William 
 of Tyre mentions its intermittent flow, and others speak of it both as a fountain 
 and a pool. Phocas, in a.d. 1185, says the fountain was surrounded hy arches 
 and massive columns with gardens below. Not (ill the end of the fifteenth 
 centur}' is there any reference to the Fountain of the Virgin, and only in the 
 eighteenth century was it called the Fountain of Siloam ; so that what we call the 
 Pool of Siloam is what is alluded to Ity all the early writers, either by that name 
 or as the Fountain of Siloam. 
 
 The Pool of Siloam is about fifty-five feet long, and twenty feet deep. Its 
 masonry is comparatively modern. The columns, partly built into the sides, are 
 ancient, and probably supported a roof; and perhaps arches may have siirung 
 from them, so as to form porches, similar to those which we read existed at the 
 Pool of Bethesda. The arched entrance at the upper end of the pool leads 
 Ijy a ruinous staircase down to the conduit by which it is supplied. 
 
 During the Feast of Tabernacles, water mingled with wine was poured out 
 upon the sacrifice which lay ready prepared upon the altar, in the Temi^le. This 
 water was drawn by one of the priests in a golden vessel from the Pool of 
 Siloam, and at night took place "the rejoicing for the drawing of water" — a 
 festival which lasted till far into the night ; and it is said, " This their rejoicing 
 was of so high a jollitj', that he that never saw the rejoicing for the drawing ol" 
 water, never saw rejoicing all his life." " Rabbi Levi saith : ' Why is the name 
 of it called the drawing of water ? Because of the pouring out of the Holy 
 Ghost, according to what is said, With joy shall ye draw water out of the wells 
 of salvation.' " " The cast-off breeches and belts of the priests were torn into 
 shreds for wicks : there was not a court in Jerusalem that was not illuminated 
 liy the lights of the water drawing."
 
 80 THE WATEfiS OF SII.OAM AND THE KING'S GARDEN. 
 
 It seems i)i-()ljiible tliat oiii- Lord alluded to this ccreniony of llic drawing 
 of water fi-oin the J'ool of Siloaiii, when in the Teiuide on the last and great day 
 of the Feast of Tabernacles he "stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let 
 liini come unto me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the Scripture hath 
 said. Out of his belly shall flow rivers ofliving water." 
 
 The water from the Pool of Siloam flows down to the King's (Jardeii, the 
 greenest and most productive spot around Jerusalem. Nehemiah mentions this 
 place, and says that Shallum built " the wall of the i^ool of Siloah by the king's 
 garden ;" and here it was that when David was old and stricken in j'cars, 
 Adonijah, one of the very goodly sons born to him in Hebron, called together 
 and feasted the king's sons, and the men of Judah, the king's servants ; and here 
 they proclaimed him king. But not even the help of the mighty Joab could 
 give Adonijah his father's throne ; and hither from Zion was borne the sound 
 of shouting, which 1)roke in upon their Ijanquet. David had named Solomon as 
 his successor; and Solomon rode on David's mule, and the}- blew the trumpet, 
 and all the people said, God save king Solomon, and rejoiced with great joy, so 
 that the earth rent with the sound of them. Then the guests, who had just 
 "made an end of eating" at the feast in the king's delicious gardens, " were 
 afraid, and rose up, and went every man his way." 
 
 AVe have given a view taken from the King's Garden, looking up the 
 Valley of Jehoshaphat. On the right is the village of Siloam, whose inhabitants 
 cultivate the rich garden below. The south-eastern point of Moriah, crowned 
 b}' the mosque of Aksa and the wall of the Haram, closes the view up the 
 valley. It was up the steep of Moriah that Adonijah fled, when his fair-weather 
 friends had deserted him ; and within the sacred enclosure on its crest, he cauglit 
 hold on the horns of the altar for safety.
 
 ( 81 
 
 xy. 
 
 THE WATERS OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 The Moslems have a great veneration for the Fouutaiu of Siloam, and Mohaiuracd 
 is reported to have declared, " Zemzem and Siloam are two fountains of Para- 
 dise." In ancient times the waters of Siloam were more abundant than they are 
 now, and their flow and c1j)>, both in the Fountain of the Yirgin and the Pool of 
 Siloam, were more remarkable. The surplus water from this pool seems to have 
 supplied another reservoir before it reached the King's Garden, for a causeway 
 crosses the valley of the Tyropreon, acting as a dam ; and above it the ground is 
 lower and forms a kind of basin, now cultivated as a garden. 
 
 Just above the causeway is a curious old mulberry tree, whose ancient roots 
 are protected by stones and earth heaped up round them. This aged tree marks 
 the traditional scene of Isaiah's martyrdom. According to the rabbins, tlie 
 prophet was sawn asunder in the trunk of a tree, during the reign of Manasseh, 
 Hezekiah's evil son. Probably this took place soon after Manasseh's accession ; 
 for at that time Isaiah, who had prophesied during the four preceding reigns, 
 must have been stricken in years, three of the monarchs throughout whose reigns 
 he ministered having together ruled for sixty-one years. The tree is spoken of 
 as of immense age, by a writer in the sixteenth centur}". 
 
 In all ages the city of Jerusalem had an abundant supply of water within its 
 walls, and in all the sieges to which it was subjected we nowhere find any 
 mention of a want of water in the city. During the siege by Titus, when 
 Jerusalem was crowded with strangers in addition to its permanent inhabitants, 
 and the Jews were dying of hunger in thousands daily, there is not a word said 
 of any want of water. The neighbourhood of the city was almost arid ; and 
 though there is no instance on record of the besieged having suffered from 
 thirst, the besiegers on many occasions were greatly distressed by drought. 
 During the siege by Antiochus Pius, the operations were much delaj'ed by this 
 cause, and Josephus regards it as the result of a Divine interposition that the 
 Romans under Titus were not likewise reduced to great straits. It has been 
 suggested, however, that the language of Josephus respecting the plentiful supply 
 of water procured by the Romans from Siloam, may have been only a boast to 
 
 o
 
 82 THE NVATEliS OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 (k'ceive the Jews-, loi- Dio relates tluii tlu! legious suffered rrij2;litriilly kom thirst, 
 and were ohli^vd to bring bad water from a distance. The Crusaders were 
 reduced to tlie greatest extremities by thirst during their siege in the summer of 
 A.D. 1099, wliilst the inlialjitants were well supplied; and in every age the truth 
 of the short description of the city given by Strabo has been demonstrated : 
 " Jerusalem, a rocky well-enclosed fortress ; within well watered, without wholly 
 dry." 
 
 At present the chief water sujiply of Jerusalem is derived from cisterns, and 
 to a great extent this must always have been the case. Almost every tolerable 
 private house has one or more of these cisterns, which are excavated in the lime- 
 stone rock, and many of them are of enormous size. The greater part of these 
 are ancient, and their number and extent aObrd a conclusive reason why the 
 Jews never experienced any want of water during a siege. The springs in and 
 about Jerusalem are few, and not ycry copious at the present day. In the time 
 of Hezekiali, they seemed to have given a more liberal flow, for we read that 
 when Sennacherib threatened- Jerusalem, the first defensive operation undertaken 
 by the king was this : " He took counsel with his princes and his mighty men to 
 stop the waters of the fountains which were without the cit}', and they did help 
 him. So there was gathered much people together, who stopped all the fountains, 
 and the brook that ran through the midst of the laud, saying, Why should the 
 kings of Assyria come and find much water ?" We afterwards read that, "This 
 same Hezekiah also stopped the upper water-courses of Gihon, and brought it 
 straight down to the west side of the city of David;" also, "He made a pool 
 and a conduit, and brought water into the city." In Ecclcsiasticus also it is 
 stated, that "he brought in water into the midst of the city; he dug with iron 
 into the rock." He probaljly covered over the spring of Gihon in subterranean 
 chandjcrs of the same kind as those above Solomon's Pool, so as to hide it from 
 au invader, and then carried the water by channels underground into reservoirs 
 constructed in the citj'. 
 
 The picturesque pool which still bears, and probal>ly with reason, Ilezekiah's 
 name is at present about tM'o hundred and forty feet long, and one hundred and 
 lifty feet broad ; but it appears originally to have extended about fifty-seven feet 
 further towards the north, and thus to have been about a hundred yards long. 
 The subterranean channel which was discovered in digging the foundations for the 
 English church, is probably Hezekiah's conduit. 
 
 P>eneath the area of the Haram, the site of the Temple, ancient writers tell 
 us that a vast system of waterworks existed : one cistern or rather series of 
 cisterns constructed by the high priest Simon the Just, the son of Onias, in the
 
 THE WATEES OF JERUSALEM. 85 
 
 roign of Ptolemy Soter in Egypt, was " in compass as the sea," covered with 
 plates of brass. Aristeas, too, a writer who visited Jerusalem about a.d. 273, in 
 the reign of Soter's successor, speaks of a never-failing fountain beneath the 
 Temple area, and of these reservoirs ; and says that their floors and sides were 
 cased with lead, and that tiierc were hidden apertures, known only to those 
 employed at the sacrifices, through which the water gushing out with force 
 washed off all the blood of the numerous victims. To some other great rescrvoii's 
 here the water was brought from Solomon's Pool ; and all accounts agree that 
 many cisterns of marvellous capacity existed beneath the Temple platform. A 
 vast vault, called the cistern of Helena, cut entirely out of the solid rock, now 
 belongs to the convent of the Copts ; there is another in the church of the Flagel- 
 lation, and a third near the Damascus gate ; another of huge dimensions in the 
 Latia convent is able in seasons of drought to supply all the Christian inhabitants 
 of the city ; and there are many others. 
 
 It has always been believed that, in addition to its supplies from Solomon's 
 Pool, and from rain water, a strong spring existed beneath the Temple area ; but 
 at present Moslem bigotry is a bar to all investigation. Just outside the sacred 
 enclosure is a well, called the " Well of the Bath," supposed to be connected with 
 the waters of the Haram. This was partially explored by Mr. Wolcott, an 
 American missionary. At the dead of night, attended only by a servant lad, 
 and furnished with candles, matches, a measuring rule, and a compass, he w^eut 
 to the well's mouth. Here he met two peasants who had been induced by the 
 keeper of the bath to aid the enterprise, and by them he was lowered to the 
 bottom of the well. A leaky leathern bucket had been tied as a counterpoise to 
 the other end of the rope by which he was suspended, and after meeting it half 
 way down, he was under a shower-bath for the rest of his descent. The wtU 
 was eightj'- three feet deep, and the water in it about four feet and a half. The 
 well's mouth was only two feet square, but it soon expanded to twelve feet 
 square. Six feet above the water he found a doorway leading into an arched 
 chamber, which he contrived to reach. He here relit his candles, which had been 
 extinguished. The chamber was fifteen feet by ten, and did not seem to have 
 been constructed with any reference to the water. Opposite to the chamber was 
 a passage which formed the water channel. Mr. AYolcott descended into the 
 water, having first put on an india-rubber life preserver, and then followed the 
 passage, which was about ten feet high, till he came to another vault, twenty 
 feet square, beyond which the passage was about five feet high and was covered 
 with stones, among which were fragments of marble and granite columns. 
 Having followed this passage for eighty feet, he was stopped by a well of
 
 86 THE WATEES OF JERUSALEM. 
 
 iiukuowu depth, on tlie opposite side of which the wall of rociv descended to the 
 water and stopped further progress. It has been supposed from the accounts 
 given Ijy the attendants at the bath, who, when the water was low, had visited 
 the well which stopped Mr. Wolcott's explorations, that from it there is a con- 
 tinuation of the water passage at a lower level, and that this lower gallery com- 
 municates with the Haram. Mr. Wolcott deserves great credit for his iutrepiditj' ; 
 for had there been the least alarm during his descent or ascent, the jjcasants 
 would have let the rope slip, and have fled from the spot ; and had they even 
 run off while he was exploring the water channel, his position would have been 
 neither pleasant nor safe ; for, first, he would have had to attract attention and 
 induce somebody to draw him up ; and when he reappeared on the surface of the 
 earth, he would have had to give an explanation which should prove satisfactoiy 
 to savage fanatics as to how he chanced to be wandering undergound so near to 
 the limits of their sacred shrines. The whole story is a good illustration of the 
 difficulties thrown in the way of the Christian antiquary l)y the intolerant 
 infidels who rule the city of David and of Christ; and till free scope is given to 
 examine, and where necessary to make excavations, the source whence much of 
 that extraordinary amount of water which filled the pools and vaulted reservoirs 
 of Jerusalem, and especially of the Temple, was drawn, must remain a m^'stery. 
 The quantity in the covered cisterns alone must have been far bej-ond the 
 ordinary wants of the population, and they had many vast pools as well, ])oth 
 within and without the walls. The position of the Pool of Bethesda has not 
 been determined. The monks have identified the enormous reservoir just within 
 St. Stephen's Gate wdth the pool of the five porches, where on the saljbath day 
 Jesus Avrought a good and merciful work upon a man who for thirty-eight years 
 had been weighed down with infirmity. Some modern authorities believe that 
 this great trench to the north of the Haram was the scene of the miracle just 
 alluded to, Imt evidence to connect them is wanting. The excavation is very 
 remarkable. At present it is three hundred and sixty feet long, a hundred and 
 thirty feet broad, and seventy- five feet deep ; but it was anciently much deeper, 
 for the bottom is covered to a considerable depth by the rubl:)ish of centuries. 
 It is coated with cement, and has evidently been used as a reservoir. 
 
 In tins chapter a view is given of the entrance to the Tombs of the Judges on 
 the north side of Jerusalem, to be described afterwards.
 
 ( ^^- ) 
 
 XVI. 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SON OF HINNOM. 
 
 The holy city .stands upon a ))roa(l and lofty i)roniontory foniiod. |>_y two valleys 
 which at theii- commencement to the northward of the city are shallow, but 
 grow dee})cr and narrower as they descend, until sweeping round the south- 
 eastern and south-western steeps of Moriah and Zion they become wild ravines, 
 craggy and precipitous, and finally unite to the south of the city. On the east, 
 west, and south, these two valleys were the natural boundaries of ancient 
 Jerusalem, and its natural protection. The ancient walls of Jerusalem from 
 the time of Solomon to that of Titus, must have taken their course along the 
 declivities girded round by these ravines. Whether they were built along the 
 crest of the hill, or whether they and the city they defended came far down the 
 slope, we cannot now decide ; but we know for certain that these two glens were 
 in flict a tremendous ditch limiting and defending one of the strongest fortresses 
 in the world. One of these vallej's is the Valley of the Kidron or of Jehoshaphat, 
 whose course we have alread^y described ; the other is the Valley of Hinnom. A 
 third valley, much smaller, and of less depression, divides the elevated platform 
 on which Jerusalem stands, and passing between Zion and Moriah, dips down 
 to meet the other two glens at their point of junction, and, uniting with them, 
 passes southward between the Mountain of Offence on the east and the Hill of 
 VjvR Counsel on the west, eventually to fall with them into the Dead Sea. This 
 third valley is the Tyropfeon. 
 
 The " Valley of Hinnom," or the "Valley of the Son of Hinnom," as it is 
 more commonly designated in the Old Testament, is called in Hebrew " Ge 
 Hinnom," and from its Jewish name it is called by the Arabs " AVady Jehennam." 
 This valley begins to the westward of Jerusalem. Its upper part is a shallow 
 basin, and in the centre of this basin is the large reservoir called the Upper 
 Pool of Gihon, and by the Arabs Birket el Mamilla. From hence the valley, 
 which is from fifty to a hundred yards wide, runs almost south-east till it nears 
 the Jaffa gate, when it turns almost due south, and grows deeper. About a 
 quarter of a mile below the Jaffa gate is the lower pool of Gihon, called in 
 Arabic "Birket es Sultan." This pool was formed by throwing strong walls 
 across the bottom of the valley, between which the earth was wholly removed,
 
 F8 THE VALLEY OF THE SON OF HIKKOM. 
 
 SO that the rocky sides of the valley are left shelving down irregularly, and form 
 a narrow channel along the middle. Walls run along the sides, but these, as 
 well as the northern dam, are ruinous. At the south end the wall forms a broad 
 causeway, crossed Ijy a road. The length of the pool is nearly six hundred feet. 
 Its breadth at the northern end is two hundred and forty-five feet, and at the 
 southern end two hundred and seventy-five feet, and its depth at this lower end 
 forty-two feet. This pool is usually dry. 
 
 Just above this lower pool, the aqueduct from Solomon's Pool crosses the 
 valley upon nine low arches. An Arabic inscription says that it was " built "' 
 by an Egyptian sultan about a.d. 1.300, which no doubt means that he repaired 
 it at that date. In this part of the valley the city wall high overhead has a 
 very picturescpie effect. The glen soon turns eastward, and runs in an easterly 
 direction till it joins the Valley of Jehoshaphat ; and this lower portion is very 
 stern and wild, the declivity of Zion ou the north falling steeply into it, and 
 the hill on the south rising in broken irregular cliffs, honeycombed with tombs. 
 This valley, especially the deep retired glen towards its lower end^ has an awful 
 notoriety, for this is Tophet ; and here it was that the children of Judah did 
 evil in the sight of the Lord, and built the high places of Tophet, " which is in 
 the Yallej^ of the Son ofHinnom, to burn their sons and daughters in the fire. 
 Therefore behold the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no more be called 
 Tophet, nor the Valley of the Son ofHinnom, but the Valley of Slaughter; for 
 they shall bury in Tophet till there be no place." 
 
 It was king Solomon the wise who wrought the folly which brought a 
 curse and defilement upon this wild valley, for he loved strange women of the 
 nations concerning which the Lord said unto the children of Israel, " Ye shall 
 not go in to them, neither shall the}" come in unto you ; for surely they will 
 turn away your heart after their gods." 
 
 With his command to his people in this instance, the Almighty deigned to 
 give a reason for his prohibition. High and low in Israel disobeyed this 
 injunction ; and, as a notable example to the whole people of the weakness of 
 man when he acts without reference to God's law^s, and his helplessness to resist 
 temptation, the God of Abraham chose out the ruler of Israel, the wisest of 
 mankind, and giving him over to his own devices, permitted him publicly to 
 work foolishness in Israel. AVise Solomon, when he disobeyed God, was led 
 astray by the strange wives to whom his heart clave ; and on the " Mount 
 of Corruption," or " Offence," " the hill that is before Jerusalem," on the brow 
 looking jip the Valley of Hinnom, and in full view of the glorious Temple he 
 had raised to the living God, he in his old age built a high place for Chemosh,
 
 \ 
 
 o 

 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SON OF HINNOSI. 91 
 
 tlic abomination of Moab, and for Molccli, the aljoniination of the fhiklreu ol" 
 x\mmon. For this idolatry, ten tribes were taken from David's house, and for 
 David's sake alone was there a remnant left to his posterity. 
 
 From time to time, in close vicinity to the sjiot where Solomon transgressed, 
 the horrible rites of the false gods were revived by Jndah's idolatrous kings. 
 Wlien the hill of Zion blazed gloriously in the refulgence of the setting sun, its 
 shadow fell dark and cold ujjon this extremity of the Yale of Ilinnom ; and here 
 within the very shade of the holy hill of Zion, did Ahaz burn his children in 
 the flames in sacrifice to the foul gods of lire. From hence, and from the hills 
 around, the smoke of incense l)urning in honour of the aljominations of the 
 heathen ascended to the sky, in defiance of the Lord of Hosts. The evil king 
 ]\Ianasseh, too, in every respect followed in his grandfather's footsteps, and like 
 him perpetrated in this place deeds of savage cruelty and wickedness. According 
 to the rabbins, the statue of Molech which stood here was of brass, having the 
 body of a mau and the head of an ox. The interior was hollow and fitted up 
 with a large furnace, by which the whole statue was easily made red-hot. The 
 children to be sacrificed were then placed in its arms, while drums were beaten 
 to drown their cries. Many a Jewish mother in this shady glen, with broken 
 heart, pressed for the last time her infant to her breast ; then it was torn from 
 her loving grasp and committed to the deadly embrace of the hideous ))razen 
 monster, while the rattle of drums, the clang of cymbals, and the shouts of the 
 frenzied idolaters, prevented a single shriek from reaching even a motlier's ear. 
 Such was the worship wise Solomon inaugurated ou the rock above ; and there, 
 and in the valley below, it continued till the days of Josiah. 
 
 Josiah defiled Tophet and the high places which were on the right hand of 
 the Mount of Corruption, which Solomon the king had builded. He polluted 
 the scenes of heathen worship by spreading human Ijones and other corruptions 
 over them, thus making Tophet ceremonially unclean, so that no Jew could onler 
 it. Most commentators assert that perpetual fires were here kept up f(jr 
 consuming the bodies of criminals, carcases of animals, and other unclean things 
 that were combustible ; but this view admits of doubt. The acts of Josiah in 
 making this valley unclean to the Jews caused the words of Jeremiah to be 
 literall}' fulfilled ; for tombs in multitudes have perforated all the cliffs, and we 
 have spoken already of the crowded burying ground in the Yalley of Jehoshaphat. 
 When Titus took the city, the Yalley of the Son of Hinnom was indeed a 
 " valley of slaughter," for Josephus relates that when the victor saw these valleys 
 l)clow Jerusalem heaped full of dead bodies, he raised his hands and called 
 Heaven to witness that he was not responsible for this frightful slaughter. Close
 
 92 THE VALLEY OF THE SON OF HINNOM. 
 
 to Topliet, on a sort of ledge half way up the side of the Hill of Evil Counsel, is 
 the reputed site of Aceldama, " the Field of Blood," bonght with the thirty 
 pieces of silver, the price of our Lord's betrayal— the potter's lield Ijought with 
 the price of him who was valued, to bury strangers in. From the age of Jerome 
 till the present time every writer on Jerusalem refers to this spot as undoubtedly 
 the potter's field ; and it is most probable that in the fourth century the field 
 especially l)ought to Inuy strangers in would be known. 
 
 On the summit of the hill above, that awful bargain is said to have been 
 struck ; and the " Hill of Evil Counsel " takes its name from the evil consultation 
 between the traitor who sold, and the bigots who bought, as to the best means 
 of carrying out their purposed treachery and violence ; for on the summit of 
 this hill the country house of Caiaphas is said to have stood ; and thither 
 tradition reports that Judas went to sell his Lord. The ruins, apparently of an 
 Arab village, are dignified by the monks with the name of the Villa of 
 Caiaphas, and a solitary tree of peculiar shape and blasted appearance is, 
 according to the latest ecclesiastical authorities, the very tree whose boughs 
 aided Judas in his self-murder. Early writers place the " Field of Blood" where 
 Judas died at different places in the Valley of Jehoshaphat. 
 
 Aceldama, the potter's field, is not marked by anj^ boundary to distinguish 
 it from the rest of the hill-side ; and the ancient charnel house, now a ruin, is 
 all that remains to point out the site. It is a long, massive stone building, in 
 front of a cave in the face of a precipice. The roof is arched, the walls sunk 
 deep below the level of the ground outside, and the earth inside removed, leaving 
 a huge pit, twenty feet deep. Through a hole the bottom can be seen, over 
 which bones were scattered. 
 
 The potter's field, bought to bury strangers in, was used for this its original 
 purpose by the Latins and then by the Crusaders ; for here they buried pilgrims. 
 Sir John Maundevillo, in the fourteenth century, says that " in that feld ben 
 raanye tombes of Cristene men ; for there ben manye pilgrymes graven." 
 
 The first mention of the Valley of the Son of Hiunom is in the book of 
 Joshua, where it is spoken of as forming the boundary line between the portions 
 of Judah and Benjamin. Afterwards it is always mentioned in connexion with 
 the al)ominable idolatries there perjietrated, which brought down God's judgments 
 upon those who practised them. 
 
 In this chapter is given a view of the mslern half of Jerusalem, as seen 
 from the Mount of Offence. The next chapter will contain the western half of 
 this prospect, with the description of the whole.
 
 ( 93 ) 
 
 XVII. 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF THE LORD'S HOUSE. 
 
 We have now described the two valleys which gave its distinctive character to 
 the situation of Jerusalem. The iirst has been fixed on by superstition as the 
 scene of the last judgment. The name of the latter, Ge Hinnom, or Gehenna, 
 from its ceremonial defilement and from tlie abominable fire of Molech which had 
 desecrated it, was used by the later Jews to denote the place of eternal 
 punishment. Some of the rabbins look upon it as the mouth of hell. Thus the 
 Valley of Hinnom became the image of the place of everlasting punishment, 
 " where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched ;" and the word 
 Gehenna is thus used by our blessed Lord on many occasions. 
 
 Just below the junction of the two valleys is a well, called by the Aralis 
 " Bir Eylab," the well of Job or of Joab ; and by the Jews and Franks, the well of 
 Nchemiah. This well has been identified with Enrogel, a landmark of the 
 boundary between Judah and Benjamin •, and the l:)alance of evidence seems to 
 favour this view, though some respectal)le authorities dissent from it. 
 
 It was at Enrogel that Jonathan and Ahiniaaz, David's servants, waited for 
 information and advice from Hushai, who during Absalom's rebellion remained 
 in the city, in order that by his means God might defeat tlie good counsel of the 
 wise Ahithophel, and bring evil on the parricidal rebel. There are indications 
 still extant which show that the gardens watered by Siloam extended to this 
 well, and it was near Enrogel that Adonijah's feast m the king's garden took 
 place. 
 
 The well is a hundred and twenty-five feet deep, walled up with large 
 squared stones, and is apparently of great antiquity. LTsually the water in it is 
 about fifty feet deep, but in the rainy season it becomes quite full, and sometimes 
 overflows. 
 
 Ascending the Mount of Oflence, from thence may be scanned the broad 
 prospect of Jerusalem outspread before the eyes. It is one of especial interest, 
 for probably more than any other, except the birds-eye view from Olivet, it 
 comprehends the leading features of the city, and shows us their relative 
 positions. A truthful representation of the whole extent of the city, as seen from
 
 !)-) THE MOUNTAIN OF THE LORD'S HOUSE. 
 
 the .soulli-easl could not )jc given in one cngniviiig : the sketcli is thcrerorc 
 divided iu ludi'; l)ut iu tlic description we shall treat it as a whole, as )jy so 
 doing our readers will ])G Ijetter able to form an accurate idea both of the ancient 
 position and present appearance of the city. We shall consequently speak of the 
 two engravings as united in oue. 
 
 On the extreme right of the view, the steeps of Olivet descend into the 
 Valley of Jehoshaphat, whose entire course along the eastern side of the city we 
 here see. Just beneath the tower, standing near the base of that sacred hillside, 
 are a grove of olives and a jjortion of a line of wall. There is Gethscmane. 
 Nearer to us, just seen above the lower brow of the hill on which we stand, arc 
 the two monolithic monuments attributed to Absalom and Zacharias, with a 
 portion of the scarped rock from which they were hewn, and in whose face the 
 tombs of Jehoshaphat and St. James are excavated. Cresting the declivity 
 which faces the Mount of Olives, at its furthest point from us, a line of towers is 
 seen extending to the north-eastern corner of the present city, and above the 
 houses in this quarter we can see the line of battlements of the northern wall 
 running directly to the west. At the point in the eastern wall, where there is a 
 break in the regular succession of the towers mentioned above^ stands St. 
 Stephen's Gate ; and from that gate, which is hidden from us by a Ijeud in the 
 wall, the path which leads over the bridge of the Kidrou to the Mount of Olives 
 and to Bethany is seen winding down the steep descent. 
 
 A little within St. Stephen's Gate, the minaret which towers above the 
 houses and Ijreaks the outline of the northern wall behind, stands close to the 
 great trench called by the monks the Pool of Bethesda, but which was 
 proljaljly the ditch of the splendid fortress Antonia; and this marks the north- 
 ern limit of the great platform of the Haram enclosure. The wall from St. 
 Stephen's Gate down to the lofty corner nearest to us forms the eastern 
 boundary of the Haram ; and from that corner, and past the spot where the 
 modern line of fortification descends the hill, to the end of the high wall beyond, 
 is the southern face of the sacred enclosure, and on the west it is bounded by the 
 valley of the Tyropason. This is Moriah. Upon this mount it is supposed that 
 Abraham built the altar to sacrifice his son ; and here he won the blessing which 
 had its partial fruition in the gorgeous pile raised by his descendant on the spot 
 hallowed by the patriarch's act of implicit obedience to God's command. Upon 
 this mount undoubtedly stood the threshing-floor of Oman the Jebusite. There, 
 without doubt, Solomon built the Temple of the Most High, the richest building 
 the world ever saw ; and within the sacred area whose limits we liave described, 
 Jesus, a child of twelve years old, for the first time put his hand to his " Father's
 
 
 ''ill M'.. 1^ 
 iVi'l'^iinlil I:il4
 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF TEE LORD'S HOUSE. 97 
 
 business," and seated amongst the learned and the aged of Israel's doctors, williin 
 God's glorious house, discussed with them the things of God. Here, when grown 
 to man's estate, and in the perforniancc of iiis earthly mission, Christ "taught 
 daily " and "preached the gospel ;"' here, too, he spoke tlie prophecy so liliially 
 fuUilled, that in the evil days to come, every goodly stone of (Jod's own 
 sanctuary should be disjointed ami overthrown ; and here also he foretold the 
 prostration of " the temple of his body," and of its glorious renewal when on the 
 third day the bonds of death were broken. Here when the T^ord was taken from 
 the apostles up to his Father and their Father, Peter wrought a mii-acle in Jesus' 
 name, and preached the faith of Jesus dead and risen. Hither came the 
 apostles, miracidously released by God's angel tVom their prison ; and here Paul 
 was seized by the people who went about to kill him. 
 
 The vast platform on Moriah's summit possesses an overpowering interest 
 for us, for it is one of the few relics which tell of Israel's glor}'. The massive 
 walls that bound it on the east, south, and west, are identical with and stand 
 upon the very substructure of the outer wall of the ancient temple. Many ])or- 
 tions of this suljstructure certainly belonged to Nehemiah's temple, and proljably 
 to that of Solomon. It is at the south-eastern angle, the lofty corner just 
 opposite to us, that the old stones of Jerusalem standing in their original 
 position, standing as when our Lord looked on them, are best seen. Here, 
 fifteen or sixteen courses of the grand old blocks, beautifully cut and bevelled, 
 still remain, and many more must be covered with rubbish. This grand 
 I'ragment of Jewish workmanship forms perhaps one of the finest specimens of 
 mural architecture in the world. The chief corner stones are twenty feet long, 
 and the eighth, counting upwards, is seven feet broad and six. feet high. The 
 length of the stones in all this old Jewish work varies much ; the greatest length 
 of any single block now above-ground in this place is twenty-three feet. The 
 Jews seem to have bestowed especial care upon the corners of their buildings, 
 which everywhere exhibit a greater degree of finish, and a better choice of 
 material than the plain M'all, fine as its masonry may be. 
 
 At the south-western angle, which, owing to gardens, thickets of cactus, 
 and dirt, is not so accessible as the corner we have described, the stones of the 
 Jewish substructure are still grander in their dimensions ; and here the lowest 
 corner stone above ground is thirty-one feet long and six feet and a half broad. 
 Other stones are from twenty to twenty-five feet long and five feet high. About 
 a dozen vards from this angle, Dr. Robinson discovered the segment of a aigantic 
 arch projecting from the wall. Now this arch is certainly as ancient as any 
 of the Jewish remains here, and in every respect its position corresponds with 
 
 H
 
 98 THE MOUNTAIN OF THE LORD'S HOUSE. 
 
 that of the bridge which, according to Joscphus, connected the Temple with the 
 u|)per city of Zion. Whether this was tlie ascent Ijy which Solonion went up 
 into the liouse of the Lord — one of those items of the monarch's magnificence 
 which when the queen of Sheba saw " there was no more spirit in her," or 
 wliethcr it belongs to a later epoch, we have not space to discuss. The valley 
 of the Tyropffion, which was spanned by this bridge, has been gradually filled up 
 In' ruin and rubbish, to what depth is unknown, and excavations here would 
 most likely lead to valuable discoveries. The western wall has a greater 
 l)roportion of ancient Jewish workmanship than either of the others •, Ijut much 
 of it is hidden in the fronts of Turkish houses built up against it. 
 
 The "mountain of the Lord's house " has greatly changed in outward shape 
 since David bought the threshing-floor of Oman. At that time it was 
 surmounted by a mass of limestone rock, with precipitous sides, from which the 
 ground fell rapidly to the valleys of the Kidron and the Tyropa=!on on the east 
 and west, and to tlie lower brow of Ophel on the south. Oman's threshing-floor 
 l)robably was the only level space on its summit. The broad platform we see is 
 almost entirel}' artificial. Upon the rocky crown of Moriah, which seems to 
 have been cut down to form a larger level, Solomon placed the fane and altar. 
 On the east he built a wall lower down the hill, and filled the intervening 
 hollow with earth, on which he erected a covered colonnade. Afterwards, the 
 level area was extended on the other sides by the same process, the space 
 within the walls being partly filled in with earth and partly supported upou 
 piers and arches. 
 
 Thus was foi-med the Court of the Gentiles. Porticoes ran along the outer 
 walls of the enclosure, and the open part was paved with variegated stones. 
 Here, both Jews and strangers spent much of their leisure, and trade at last 
 encroached upon the sacred precincts. Then it was that our Saviour drove out 
 from this outer court the buyers and sellers who profaned it by carrying on 
 there their secular business, which was not untainted by fraud. The eastern 
 colonnade was called Solomon's Porch, and there Jesus often walked. Along 
 the southern side extended the nolJe cloister of Herod, one of the most 
 remarkable of his magnificent works ; and its position, stretching from valley 
 to valley along the summit of the massive wall, must have rendered it an oljject 
 of striking grandeur from almost every point of view in and around the city. It 
 consisted of four rows of Corinthian columns, forming a central nave and two 
 side aisles. Each aisle was thirty feet in width and fifty in height, while the 
 nave was fortj'-five feet wide and a hundred feet high. The columns were of 
 white marble and the roofs of cedar.
 
 ( 99 ; 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 EL HARAM ESH-SHEMP, OR THE NOBLE SANCTUARY. 
 
 Having spoken of (lie vaults, cisterns, ami water-works below tlie platform of 
 the Haram, the more noted objects of attention abovegrouud will now be alkuletl 
 to briefly. Though there are many theories respecting it, only one of them 
 seems to be satisfactory. It appears to be almost certain that the Haram area, 
 shut in on three sides by the walls described in the last chapter, and on the 
 fourth, the northern extremity, by the deep trench at St. Stephen's Gate and by 
 the governor's house, is identical with the space covered by the Jewish Temple, 
 including the fortress of Antonia. In our Saviour's time, Solomon's Temple was 
 but a tradition ; the Temple of Zerubbabel had been altogether reconstructed, 
 and the Temple so often mentioned in the New Testament, and descriljcd by 
 Josephus and the rabbinical writers, was the building raised by Herod the Great. 
 This was a strong fortress, and Antonia was its citadel. 
 
 The sacred enclosure of the Haram, from the day when the Crusaders were 
 finally driven out of Jerusalem, has been jealously guarded against the profanation 
 which in Islamite eyes it would undergo if a Christian were to wander over its 
 area, where Christ his Master so often trod ; and, as instant death has always 
 awaited the intruder who should be detected, few even of the most zealous topo- 
 grophists have cared to brave such a risk. In the year 1856, however, after the 
 Crimean war, travellers were allowed to explore the Haram on payment of a 
 pound a head. Since 1856 the enclosure has again been inaccessible to strangers, 
 and before that year most of our trustworth}^ information respecting the interior 
 of the buildings, the vaults, etc., was derived from the account of Mr. Cather- 
 wood, who succeeded in making plans and drawings of all the chief olyects of 
 interest under the following circumstances. 
 
 In the year 1833, during the rule of Mehemet Ali in Syria, he came to 
 Jerusalem with a firman which named him engineer in the service of his highness. 
 He was dressed as an Egyptian officer, and was accompanied b}- a l)rave and 
 reckless Egyptian servant ; and one day, notwithstanding the remonstrances of 
 his friends, he walked into the Haram Avitli an indifferent air, and taking care not 
 to appear too curious, proceeded to examine it. As he was on the point of 
 
 H 2
 
 100 EL IIAKAM ESH-SHERIF, OR THE NOBLE SANCTUARY. 
 
 enterins; the great Mosqnc of Omar, he saw one of the dervishes who guard and 
 show it oft" coming towards him to offer his services, in the hope of a handsome 
 gratuity from the Avell-dressed stranger; but as the British interloper was not 
 sufficiently skilled in the ceremonies to be gone through by a devout Islamite in 
 a shrine of such sanctity, he turned away as if by accident, and left the enclosure 
 without having attracted any notice. Emboldened l>y this success, he tried an 
 extremely hazardous experiment the next day, for he took a camera lucida into 
 the Haram with him, and sitting down began to make a drawing. This was a 
 proceeding certain to attract the attention of the most indifferent, and almost to 
 court their hostility, for the Moslem mind scen:s to have an innate suspicion of 
 paper and pencil, and a marked repugnance to implements of such questionable 
 orthodoxy. In such a case, what attracts notice at once rouses suspicion, and 
 what excites suspicion instantaneously breeds danger of instant death. 
 
 Several ]\Ioslems looked doubtl'ully upon the artist, but passed on, deceived 
 by his dress and the calm assurance with which he and his servant regarded 
 them ; Ijut soon some bigots began to collect in groups at a distance, and grew 
 excited in their talk. They approached, and then broke out into loud threats 
 and curses; and surrounding the i-titruder, seemed to be screwing up their 
 coumge for a sudden rush upon him and his companion, which would have put a 
 final and fatal stop to their adventures, but for an unexpected providential 
 occurrence. 
 
 Suleiman, the Egyptian servant, in the middle of the mob, affected great 
 indignation, returned threat for threat, and even struck some of the foremost with 
 his whip, and knocked off the cap of a holy dervish ; but as no satisfactory 
 explanation of Mr. Catherwood's presence in the Haram could have been given, 
 the tumult could only have ended at last in his being pulled to pieces by the 
 infuriated Islamites, when an event occurred which converted in a moment the 
 extremity of danger into the plenitude of success. The pacha, Avho governed 
 Jerusalem for Mehemet Ali, appeared, with his suite, on the scene, and those of 
 the assailants who had been struck by Suleiman's whip rushed up to him to 
 demand the instant punishment of the infidel and his follower, who in that holy 
 place horsewhipped true l)elievcrs. Mr. Cathcrwood happened to be well 
 acquainted with the pacha ; and the latter, Avho was somewhat lax in matters of 
 faith, supposing it altogether beyond the bounds of possibility that Mr. Cather- 
 wood would have ventured upon his undertaking without warrant from the 
 sovereign himself, at once' proceeded to pacify the indignation of the outraged 
 believers. He told them that the great mosque was dilajiidated, and that no 
 doubt their master, Mehemet Ali, meant to repair it ; and not finding a Moslem
 
 TIIH TOMB OK ABSALOM.
 
 EL IIARAM ESII-SIIEPJF, OK THE NOBLE SANCTUARY. 103 
 
 who could make the requisite phiiis, must have sent a (Jhi-Jsliau for tliL- |mrpose. 
 He then threatened to inflict sunimar}- punishment on any one who dared for the 
 future to interrupt Mehemet Ali's survej'or. 
 
 After this, all went on quietly, and for six weeks Mr. Catherwood examined 
 every part of the Ilaram himself, and also introduced his companions, Messrs. 
 Bonomi and Armadale, as necessary assistants. 
 
 At the expiration of six weeks, Ibrahim Pacha, the heir to ]\lelicmet Ali's 
 power and generalissimo of his forces, approached Jerusalem. Mr. Catherwood 
 thought it wise to depart the day Ijcfore Ibrahim entered the city, ))ut his exploit 
 caused rather a laughable mystification. Some English travellers of distinction 
 arrived at the same time as Ibrahim Pacha, and applied to him for permission to 
 visit the Haram. Ibrahim told them thty might go if they liked, Init he would 
 not insure their safe return, and that he could not venture to outrage Moslem 
 in-ejudices so far as to send an escort willi them. They mentioned Mr. Cathcr- 
 wood's recent employment there : Ibrahim Pacha said the thing was impossible, 
 but made further inquiries. lie summoned the dervishes, and then the governor ; 
 and ere long the whole mistake was cleared up, arousing mingled sensations of 
 astonishment, anger, and amusement among all the faithful who were i)resent at 
 the explanation. 
 
 The Ilaram, as watchfully guarded now l)y the Islamite against the entrance 
 of the stranger as was the Temple by the Jew of yore, is by far tlie fairest si)ot 
 in the holy city. It is the park or pleasure ground of Moslem Jerusalem. Over 
 its spacious area are scattered many pleasing structures, small mosfpies, fountains 
 covered by cupolas, rows of light graceful arches, open praying places, and small 
 shrines crowned with domes erected over spots of peculiar sanctity, and along its 
 western side run arcades and dwellings for the dervishes. Old trees, large and 
 picturesque, olive, cypress, and plane, sometimes standing alone, sometimes 
 grouped in small groves, give abundant shade ; and there the faithful lounged 
 and talked, or Moslem women sat and chattered, whilst their children sported 
 around. 
 
 But the great ornament of this holy and beautiful enclosure, and of Jerusalem 
 itself, is the world-famous Mosque of Omar, more correctly called the "Kul)bet 
 es-Srdvhrah," or " The Dome of the Eock." Rising from the centre of a itlat- 
 form partly paved with marble, this elegant building, crowned by its light 
 graceful dome, forms the most striking object in almost all views of the holy 
 city. Its walls are inlaid with marble, and its windows brilliant with stained 
 glass. Filling up most of the space beneath the dome, is an extraordinary relic : 
 a huge mass of unhewn rock, of irregular shape and about sixty feet in its
 
 104 EL IIARAM ESH-SIIERIF, OR THE NOBLE SANCTUARY. 
 
 oxtromc li'iigtli, rises five oi' six Icet altove the pavement of the iiios(iue, and 
 seventeen feet above tlie Harani level. Around this grey remnant of the lime- 
 stone crown of Mount Moriah hover a host of traditions, Christian and Moslem. 
 For near twelve hundred j'cars the no)jlc cupola of the khalif has sheltered the 
 rough unsightl}' jjlock which in Moslem eyes has a sanctity scarcely inferior to 
 that of the Caabali at Mecca. Mohammed said, " The first of places is Jerusalem, 
 and the first of rocks is tlie Srdvhrah, and the rock Es-Sfdchrah is one of the rocks 
 of paradise." The mosque was built over it because it was supposed to mark the 
 site of the Temple. David stood (Hi it, and saw tlic angels descending by a 
 golden ladder which rested on it; Solomon stood on it, sacrificing and offering 
 the consecration prayer of his newly built temple. It was the place on which 
 the ark rested, and towards which Israel jirayed. On the rock is still shown the 
 alleged footprint of the prophet, impressed at the moment when he mounted the 
 fomous ass Borak for his nocturnal journey to heaven. The rock bowed to the 
 projdiet in gratitude at the honour he had done to it by using it as a stepping 
 stone; and on the opposite side the eyes of the faithful can distinguish the finger 
 marks of some angels who helped it to perform this remarkable obeisance. 
 
 The Christians of the middle ages regarded the Sukhrah as the stone on 
 which Jacolj slept when he saw the vision of angels, and also as the spot where 
 the avenging angel stood on Oman's threshing-floor. Some also considered that 
 it had supported the holy of holies of the Temple, and that it still contained hidden 
 in itself the ark and other sacred things. 
 
 At the south-eastern side of the venerated rock is a chamber of irregular 
 form, averaging seven feet high. This is called by Mohammedans " the Noljle 
 Cave," from their belief that in it Abraham, David, Solomon, and Jesus had 
 successively prayed. In the centre of the rocky pavement is a circular slab of 
 marble, which being struck returns a hollow sound, showing that there is a well 
 or excavation of some kind beneath. This is called " the Well of the Spirits," 
 some call it "the Gate of Hell, others " the Gate of Paradise." In the roof of 
 the cave above this well is a cylindrical aperture, piercing the Avhole thickness of 
 the rock aVxjve ; and this is a fact of importance, as " the pierced rock" is con- 
 nected with the identification of the Temple site. 
 
 The tomb of Absalom, of which an engraving is given, has been alread}" 
 fully described in the account of the monuments in the Valley of Jehoshaphat.
 
 ( 105 ) 
 
 XIX. 
 
 JERUSALEM AND ITS SIEGES. 
 
 "Walk about Zioii, go round about her, tell the towers tlicreor, mark ye well 
 lier bulwarks." From the day when .loab sealed the walls of tlie scoffing 
 Jebusites, and won the stronghold of Zion for David, his uncle and king, the 
 name of Jerusalem has always been suggestive of power and strength, and of 
 defences all but impregnable. Her Temple in itself was a mighty fortress ; and 
 even when the besieging Roman had stormed and burned it, the citadel of Zion 
 still defied the pagan host led by Titus. All was in vain : the face of the God 
 of Jacob was turned away from its defenders. 
 
 From the peculiarity of her geographical position, Jerusalem must always 
 have been greatly exposed to attack. She was the capital of a small though 
 sturdy and wealthy state; but her hereditary foes, the Philistine and the 
 Moabite, were close at hand on the cast and west, whilst to the northward, 
 Judah had much to fear from his brother Israel, and from Israel's occasional 
 ally, the king of Damascus. But she had mightier foes than these, for she lay 
 almost directly in the track along which the despots who swayed the rival 
 empires of Egypt and Assyria alternately led their hosts against each other. 
 The riches which adorned her shrines and were heaped \\\) in her palaces, 
 tempted every leader to invest her on his march ; and over and over again do 
 we read of additions being made to her walls and defences by every oue of her 
 monarchs who had Judah's honour at heart. 
 
 As long as Solomon filled Israel's throne, Jerusalem was safe from any 
 hostile attempts of her warlike neighbours; but within four years after the 
 accession of the foolish Rehoboam, it became known in Egypt that the custody 
 of the vast wealth accumulated by Solomon had fallen into weak hands. Then 
 "it came to pass that in the fifth year of king Rehoboam, Sliishak king of 
 Egypt came up against Jerusalem, because they had traugrcssed against the 
 Lord," with an enormous host to seize the rich prize. 
 
 God, by the mouth of Shemaiah, pronounced judgment on the king and 
 the princes of Judah, because they had forsaken him. Rehoboam capitulated at 
 once ; and the gold of the Temple, with the treasures of the king's house, and the
 
 106 JERUSALEM AND ITS SIEGES. 
 
 golden sliiekls hung up by Solomon in the house of Ihe forest of Lebanon, were 
 carried oft' into Egypt. 
 
 Incited bj' the report of this rich booty, which was handed down to him 
 by tradition, Zerah, the king of Ethiopia, in the reign of Asa, invaded Judah 
 with a countless host ; but Judah's monarch was one of her most God-fearing 
 kings, and to God he prayed in a strain which may well be imitated by rulers, 
 by people, and by individuals on all occasions of danger or distress. "Lord, it 
 is nothing with thee to help, whether with man}-, or with them that have no 
 power : help us, Lord our God ; for we rest on thee, and in thy name we go 
 against this multitude. Lord, thou art our God ; let not man prevail against 
 thee.'' The Ethiopians, in answer to Asa's prayer, " were destroyed before the 
 Lord and before his host;" but when, years after, the king of Israel came 
 against Jerusalem, Asa sent the treasures of the Temple to purchase the help 
 of the king of Syria ; and because he trusted in man and not in God, the rest 
 of his reign was troubled by wars. 
 
 In Jehoram's reign, Jerusalem was stormed bv the Philistines and Arabs, 
 and despoiled of her treasures. In the reign of Joash, the king of Syria laid 
 siege to the holy city, but was induced to retire by paj'ment of a ransom from 
 the treasures of the Temple and palace. In Amaziah's reign, Jerusalem was 
 taken and partly dismantled by Joash, king of Israel ; but Uzziah repaired the 
 walls, added towers, and otherwise strengthened the fortifications of the city ; 
 and his son, Jothara, continued these works, so that when Reziu of Damascus, 
 and Pekah of Israel, besieged the city, it held out for a long time, and finally 
 escaped capture. 
 
 The next famous siege was that by the Assyrians under Sennacherib, in 
 Hezekiah's reign. When the news of the Assyrian invasion reached the good 
 king, he repaired and added to the defences of his capital ; and, as we have 
 already mentioned, he stopped the springs and filled up the wells outside the 
 city. For a time Hezekiah averted the scourge of war from Jerusalem by the 
 payment of a ransom, and Sennacherib then marched southward ; but the 
 respite was not of long duration, for he sent his captains to summon the city 
 to surrender. Hezekiah " made darts and shields iu abundance," but he had 
 a Itetter ground for reliance than even his strong walls and his numerous 
 weapons; and he told his people, "Be strong and courageous; be not afraid 
 uor dismayed for the king of Assyria, nor for all the multitude that is with 
 him : for there be more with us than with him. With him is an arm of flesh ; 
 but with us is the Lord our God to help us, and to fight. our battles. And the 
 people rested themselves upon the words of Hezekiah king of Judah." King
 
 JERUSALEM AND ITS SIEGES. 109 
 
 and people alike put thcii* whole trust in Jehovah, and " the Lord saved 
 TIezekiah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem I'rom the hand of Sennaeherib, the 
 king- of Assyria, who had railed against the Holy One of Israel in boasting and 
 in blasphemy ; for ere an arrow had been shot against the holy city, au angel 
 smote a hundred and eighty-five thousand men of war in the besieging camp, and 
 the arrogant monarch fled away " with shame of face to las own land," there to 
 die by the Lands of his own sons. 
 
 " The virgin daughter of Zion," during Hezekiah's life-time, laughed her 
 assailants to scorn ; but in his wicked son's reign, she was for a time a captive, 
 and her king was carried to Babylon. On his restoration, we read that he 
 repaired the old Avails and built a fresh one. After Josiah's reign, Pharaoh 
 Necho, king of Egypt, imprisoned his successor, Jehoahaz, and heavily taxed 
 Jerusalem. Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, then took Jerusalem, carried 
 her king Jehoiachin captive, and in his stead appointed Zedckiah as king and 
 tributary ; but he rebelled against his master, who at once laid siege to the cit}'. 
 So strong were its defences, that though Nebuchadnezzar himself directed the 
 attack, and lofty mounds were raised against it, and battering rams constantly 
 beat against the walls, yet a year and a half passed before it fell. A breach 
 had been made in the wall ; and through it, in the dead of night, the generals 
 of the besieging army entered with their forces, slaughtered the inhabitants, and 
 sacked the city, which was then dismantled and burned. The Jews who had 
 escaped the sword were carried to Babylon, a remnant of Judah's thickly jjeopled 
 land. 
 
 Nabopolassar, a Babylonian by birth, and general of the Assyrian army, 
 rebelled against his effeminate master, usurped the monarchy of Babylon, and at 
 length, with the help of the king of the Mcdes, destroyed great Nineveh, and 
 made Babylon the sole capital of his empire. His son, Nebuchadnezzar, worked 
 out to the very letter all that God's prophets had long before foretold. 
 
 At length the weary captivity ended, and Judah's children no longer wept 
 by the waters of Babylon. Then the Temple was reljuilt, and, under the direction 
 of Nehemiah, a new wall and new gates were raised around the ruined city ; 
 priests, nobles, and people, with but one recorded exception, uniting to do the 
 work of their Lord. 
 
 Long after this, Ptolemy Soter took Jerusalem, partly by treachery, and 
 partly because, when he had eifected an entrance, the Jews would offer no 
 resistance, as the attack took place on the sabbath day. They gave themselves 
 up, without a struggle, to slaughter ; and Ptolemy thus made himself complete 
 master of the city, and carried away many of its inhabitants to Egypt After
 
 110 JERUSALEM AND ITS SIEGES. 
 
 this the hiuh priest, Simon the Just, " fortified the Temple, and built the high 
 Ibi-trcss of the wall about it, and fortified the city against Ijesiegers." 
 
 Jerusalem was nevertheless taken and retaken by the sovereigns of Syria 
 and Egypt, and suffered also from internal feuds. The tyrant Antiochus 
 Epiphanes, king of Syria, first plundered the Temple and city, and carried away 
 many captives, and afterwards sent an army which, on the saljbath, stormed 
 Jerusalem and made a great slaughter. The city was i)lundered and burned, and 
 much of its wall destroyed ; but Zion was garrisoned and more strongly fortified 
 than ever. The site of the Temple was dedicated to the Olympian Jupiter ; 
 swine were sacrificed on God's altar, and the broth from boiled pigs' flesh was 
 sprinkled about to defile the Temple and its courts. It was not the will of 
 God, however, that Jerusalem should perish utterly, or that his worship there 
 should yet cease. 
 
 Modern Jerusalem has five open gates. The Hebron or Jaffa Gate on the 
 west; the "Gate of the prophet David" or "the Zion Gate," and a small gate 
 but little used, and called the "Gate of the Western Africans," or the "Dung 
 Gate," on the south. The " Gate of St. Stephen," also called the " Gate of the 
 Tribes," or the "Gate of the Lady Mary," on the east; and the "Bab el 
 Amud,'" the "Gate of the Column," or the " Damascus Gate," on the north. 
 The last is the most ornamental, and is a handsome sijccimen of Saracenic 
 architecture. From it runs the great road northward to Damascus. Above 
 the city wall on the right are seen the domes and tower of the church 
 of the Holy Sepulchre, and also the square mass of the tower of David. At the 
 base of the gateway towers are some ancient stones, and within the towers are 
 some old Jewish chambers, whose walls are entirely constructed of stones similar 
 in workmanship to those at the corners of the Temple area. From the chamber 
 in the eastern tower, a winding staircase leads to the top of the wall, and the 
 masonry of its sides is of a similar character to that below. It is probable that 
 the towers of the Damascus Gate are built upon the remains of the guardhouses 
 of an ancient gate of Jewish date. 
 
 The north-eastern quarter of the city is but thinly peopled. ]\Iost of the 
 space within the wall is covered with ruins and rubbish, or occupied by gardens 
 and patches of wheat. The whole of the north-east corner of the city is one 
 continuous corn-field. There is a tower wilh a walled-up gateway between the 
 Damascus Gate and the north-eastern angle of the city wall. The natives call 
 it the " Gate of Flowers," Init by Europeans it is known as the Gate of Herod. 
 Another gate has long been walled up. This is the famous " Golden Gate" in the 
 eastern wall of the Haram, concerning whose date there has been much controvers}'.
 
 ( 111 ) 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 
 
 When Titus laid siege to Jerusalem, the city was defended by a tri[)lo wall, 
 except where the nature of the ground made a single rampart impregnable. 
 These walls were raised at different periods. The first wall, or wall of Zion, 
 was built or strengthened by David, Solomon, and their successors. It started 
 from the north-western corner of Zion, at the point where Herod built the 
 tower of Hippicus, and ran eastward to the Temple. Southward, it followed the 
 western brow of Zion to the gate of the Essenes, Avhose site is unknown, and 
 thence it ran along the southern crest of the hill and across the TyropcTon, till it 
 joined the Temple colonnade at Ophel. 
 
 Concerning the course of the second wall, many a learned controversy and 
 many a keen dispute has arisen, for it involves a very imi)ortant matter, namely, 
 the trustworthiness of ecclesiastical tradition. This second wall inclosed the 
 quarter of Akra, encircled only the northern quarter of the city, and terminated 
 at Antonia. Now this wall existed in our Saviour's time; and if it ran so far 
 to the northward that the old foundations of bevelled stones in the city wall 
 near the Latin convent, and the remains of wliich we have spoken at the 
 Damascus Gate, formed part of it, then the reputed " Holy Sepulchre " can have 
 no claim whatever to the title, though ecclesiastical tradition for more than 
 fifteen centuries has pointed out the cave enshrined in the splendid structure 
 Constantine first founded as the real tomb in which our Lord was laid. 
 
 The third wall, or wall of Bezetha, was not built till after our Lord's death, 
 and it also inclosed a great space to the northward. It started from Hippicus, 
 and passing opposite the monument of Helena, joined the old wall at the valley 
 of the Kidron. 
 
 The present wall of Jerusalem was Imilt by Sultan Sulieman in a. p. 1542, 
 and appears to occupy very nearly the same site as the wall of the middle 
 ages, which followed in a great measure the course of that built by Hadrian. 
 
 Among all the mummeries which arc anuually performed by the monks and 
 their abettors in Jerusalem, there is one enacted in the church of the Holy 
 Sepulchre upon Easter eve which exceeds all others in impiety. Year after
 
 112 THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 
 
 year, on tliat day, tlic house of God is profaned by the blaspliemous imposture 
 wliich is called " The Miracle of the Holy Fire." Early on that morning the 
 church is iilled with a dense throng of Greek Christians, except where a circular 
 lane surrounding the chaiK'l of the Holy Sepulchre, and a part of the crowd 
 around it, is kept open l^y two ranks of Turkish soldiers. Towards noon the 
 pilgrims gradually grow violently excited, and groups of them break into this 
 ring, and rush frantically round and round the tomb, dancing, jumping on each 
 other's shoulders, and perlbrming other uncouth gambols, whilst all the time 
 they clap their hands and utter wild cries and howls. Suddenly the course is 
 cleared, and a gorgeous procession, with end^roidered banners borne aloft, thrice 
 marches round the ring. A small band of ecclesiastics surrounding " the bishop 
 of the fire," force their way to the chapel door, which admits the bishop and 
 is dosed after his entry. In the outer wall of the chapel is a hole, at which 
 stands a priest, and from the aperture to the church wall a narrow lane is 
 made through the dense crowd. The worshippers are now wound up to the 
 highest pitch of fervour, when suddenly a bright flame appears in the hole. 
 The priest lights his torch, and then from all directions there is a rush to reach 
 the fii"e, and the illumination spreads over the church till it is a-blaze with 
 thousands of lighted torches and tapers. Then there is a rush towards the door 
 to escape the heat and smoke ; and the fanatics hurry from house to house, 
 carrying the fii-e through Jerusalem. 
 
 Now the abomination of this performance consists in its being asserted by 
 the clergy, and firmly believed by the deluded laity, that the Holy Spirit 
 descends in tire upon the sacred tomb. And when the flame has blazed out, the 
 bishop of the fire, who of course had kindled it from the Inside, is borne out on 
 the shoulders of the people in a pretended faint, so that it may appear that 
 he is overcome by the glory of the Almight}', in whose immediate presence he 
 has just been. 
 
 Anciently, all the Christian churches participated in the ceremony ; but 
 when the Latins were expelled from the church by the Greeks, and could no 
 longer share in the profits of the exhibition, they denounced it as a fraud. The 
 Armenians afterwards followed their example. To the Greek community, this 
 monkish fraud is the one great attraction in the Holy City, which draws them 
 away in pilgrimage from their distant homes.
 
 ENTUANCK TO THE CHUKCU OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE.
 
 ( 115 ) 
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE MOUNT OF OLIVEti. 
 
 Ok tlic inouuhiiiis which ciicoiiipass Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives is both Llie 
 most pi'ominent and the most interesting. Olivet is not so much a single mount 
 as a ridge Avith three rounded summits of aljuut equal elevation, and it is the 
 central hill to wliieli the honoured name is more especially applied. The range 
 runs north and south, and is divided from Jerusalem only 1iy the narrow Valley 
 of Jchoshaphat. 
 
 A small village crowns the summit of the central hill, and its mosque and 
 minaret are conspicuous objects from most points in and near Jerusalem. Its 
 elevation above the sea is stated to be 2,55G Paris feet. Aged olive trees arc 
 grouped about it, and are somewhat scantily sprinkled upon the mountain's 
 western Atce. Perhaiis the thicker groves and more luxuriant gardens of the 
 olden time iiiiiy have shown richer and fresher in the glaring midday hour ; but 
 when the sinking sun shines in rosy hues, or blazes in golden glory upon the 
 sacred mount, tinging with lovely colour the pearly grey of the limestone rock 
 and terrace walls, and warming the delicate tones of the fresh green corn which 
 streaks in narrow bands the broken hill-sicle ; when its graceful undulating 
 ■outline glows radiant against the cool eastern sky, and all the gentle heavings of 
 its flanks are softly marked and dcfmed by violet shades — at that fleeting hour. 
 Olivet is fairer than of yore. 
 
 Olivet is full of associations that arc grateful to the Christian ; and it is with 
 a loving interest that his car and heart respond to the sound of its name. It 
 was the favourite haunt of Hira who, while in his mingled nature of Ood and 
 man he was borne down by the load of the world's iniquities, yet as a man had 
 human feelings, ))ut without sin. Hither, for quiet after the turmoil of the 
 crowd, for the rest needed after luird labour in his Father's work, for calm 
 converse with his chosen followers, and for secret communion with his Father, 
 he habitually resorted. He loved the Mount and its precincts, and sought in its 
 cool shades and glorious prospects a human solace. " In the day time he was 
 teaching in the Temi)le, and at night he went out and abode in the mount that 
 is called the Mount of Olives." It was as he sat upon the Mount of Olives 
 
 I 2
 
 11 rj THE .AIOUNT OF OLIVES. 
 
 that liis disciples came to liiin privately, for the explanation of his niystenous 
 predictions respecting the destruction of the great building of the Temple, of 
 the signs of his coming, and of the end of the world. Here, while as man he 
 rested in the shade of the fair groves, he unfolded to them, as the Christ, all his 
 dark sayings, and fully enlightened their understanding. Here, to them, and to 
 all who would l)elievc in his mission of redemption, he gave many a clue to 
 guide thini in the trouljlous days to come, and many a warning to prevent their 
 being led astray by false Christs and false prophets. Here, too, he spoke a 
 prophecy whose full accomplishment each revolving year steadily and surely 
 brings nearer and nearer, that before the end " the gospel must first be published 
 in all nations ;" and here he sjjoke the words of encouragement — " Heaven and 
 earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away ;" and of advice — " And 
 what I say unto j'ou, I say unto all, Watch." 
 
 It was in moments of quiet seclusion that the Redeemer spoke thus ; but 
 these scenes were to resound with the acclamations of a host, whose loud 
 hosannas proclaimed that he who meekly rode upon the foal of an ass, and 
 whom they escorted in triumph, was in very truth the King who came in the 
 name of the Lord. Over the shoulder of Olivet the vast throng swept ; and as 
 the glorious prospect of tlie city burst upon their sight, the man Jesus, touched 
 )j,y human sympathy for the human sufferings his Divinity foreknew, wept over 
 the doomed city that would not know the truth. 
 
 The triumph was over, the agony had been undergone, the rent veil of the 
 Temple had testified that sin's penalty was paid, and that the new dispensation 
 had begun ; the Pharisees' broken seals, and Joseph of Arimathea's open 
 sepulchre, told of the crowning victory over Satan and the grave ; and then for 
 the last time, over the Mount of Olives, I)y the oft-travelled road towards 
 Bethany, the risen Christ led his disciples forth. Then, on the slopes of Olivet, 
 when Jerusalem was lost to sight, he raised his hands and blessed his followers : 
 thence he was taken from them up to heaven ; and as the intervening cloud hid 
 him from their bodily eyes, angels appeared and spoke to them ; and with weary 
 hearts they turned from sacred Olivet to begin their apostolic mission and win 
 the martyr's crown. 
 
 Such are the associations which link the Mount of Olives with our Lord's 
 sojourn upon earth ; and here we have no room for doubt that often and often 
 his presence sanctified its rocks, and slopes, and shades. We cannot wonder, 
 therefore, that the soil of this real aljiding place of the Saviour has been encrusted 
 with traditions, many of which date from a very early epoch.
 
 H 
 K 
 H 
 
 a 
 
 O 
 
 a
 
 ( ll!) 
 
 XXII. 
 
 VIEW FliOM OLIVET. 
 
 EooLKSiASTirAL li'adiliou tt'lLs us tliat our Lord ascctnl(.'(l to lioavcu from tlio 
 summit of the Mount of Olives, and this is one of the earliest Cliristiau traditions 
 coneerning the sacred sites witliiii or around tlic Holy City ; l)ut ecclesiastical 
 traditiou, unless supported by other authority, scriptural or historical, is by 
 itself of questionable value, and when it is opposed to trustworthy evidence, is 
 alisolutely worthless. Now, in the present instance tradition is directly at 
 variance with the i)lain letter of Scripture. We read that Jesus led his disciples 
 " out as far as to Bethany; and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them ; and 
 it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them and carried up 
 into heaven." Tliis statement is ([uitc explicit; but we have the additional 
 fact that, after the ascension, the disciples returned " unto Jerusalem from the 
 mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a sabbath day's journey." And, 
 to connect the two places, we read in another passage — " And when they came 
 nigh to Jerusalem^ unto Bethphagc and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives ;" so 
 that Bethany is plainly treated as part of the Mount of Olives. The summit of 
 the Mount, according to the best authorities, is much within a sabbath day's 
 journey, and therefore, unless we place more value upon a vague traditiou than 
 upon the clear word of Scripture, we must take it for granted that our 
 Lord ascended from some secluded spot in the immediate vicinity of favoured 
 Bethan}'. 
 
 Before the days of the Emjiress Helena, Eusebius relates that multitudes 
 of Christians paid their adorations on the summit of the Mount of Olives, whence 
 Jesus ascended into heaven. The empress built a church over the site, but that 
 has long since disappeared. Now, the legendary site is marked by a modern 
 octagonal chapel, in a paved court belonging to a mosque, in the custody of a 
 dervish. 
 
 Ascending the minaret, the most comprehensive view of all the country 
 about Jerusalem is obtained ; and at a sheikh's tomb, the view to the eastward 
 is better seen than from the minnret. The foreground is cultivated with plots 
 of corn l)etwccn the outcroppings of the limestone rock, Init the wild rugged
 
 120 VIEW FROM OLIVET. 
 
 tract upon wliich we look down seems all barren and arid. Bare hills, seamed 
 by deep ravines, stretch in ceaseless undulations to a Ijroad sheet of water far 
 awa_v, tliat glares in the sunlight. Closing the view beyond the distant waters, 
 a lofty wall of rngged mountain falls precipitously to the water's eastern jjrink ; 
 and from its northern shore a plain, divided by a stream of whose windings wc 
 catch an occasional glimpse, spreads away to the northward. 
 
 This is a strangely interesting view, for that stream is the Jordan. In that 
 plain stood Jericho. That glistening water is the Dead Sea. Those distant 
 mountains ^vere the strongholds of Moab and Amnion, and the nearer hills 
 belonged to the wilderness of Judah. Whilst all that we gaze on from Olivet's 
 brow towards the sunrising is suggestive of sterility and death, the jjrospect 
 towards the setting sun speaks of life and hope. True it is that glorj^ is gone 
 and beauty faded ; but though the crown has been dashed from her brow, yet 
 amid Zion's ruins a people still dwells, and the voice of childhood rings throngh 
 the air, whilst the hills and vales around her reward with a moderate yield the 
 labourer's toil. From this brow we look down upon the terraced roofs of the 
 city, can map out its plan, and identify all its leading features. 
 
 Among the many fabulous "Holy Places " upon Olivet are a chapel where 
 Jesns is reported to have taught his disciples the Lord's Prayer ; the spot where 
 the angel stood who gave the Virgin three daj's' warning before her death ; 
 some vaults where the apostles composed the Creed ; the cell in which the 
 fair and frail Pelngia of Autioch passed many a jeav in penitence and penance ; 
 the spot where a tower, called " Yiri Galilfei," was built on the place where the 
 two angels appeared to the disciples after our Lord's ascension ; the point where 
 Jesus wept over the city ; and uiany others of no greater authenticitj'. 
 
 We have dwelt on the associations of Olivet only as connected with the earthly 
 sojourn of the Messiah ; l:>ut it bore a part in the history of his ancestor David on 
 a memorable occasion. Absalom had rebelled against his father; "the con- 
 spiracy was strong, for the people increased continuall}^ with Absalom ;" and 
 David and his household fled from Jerusalem. The king passed over the Brook 
 Kidron, and sent back the ark of God to its sanctuary in the Temple : and then 
 " David went u|) by the ascent of Mount Olivet, and wept as he went up, and 
 had his head covered, and he went barefoot ; and all the peoi)le that was with 
 him covered every man his head ; and they went up, weeping as they went up."
 
 r
 
 XXIIT. 
 
 "THE TOWN OF MAUY AND HER SISTER MARTFIyV." 
 
 Bethaxy has no Old Testament liistoiy. The Gospel story, and that alone, has 
 made its name a household word throughout Christendom. Every incident in its 
 histor}" is closel}' connected with Christ, witli liis private life, with his domestic 
 affections, with his miracles, his j^reaching, and with that short triumphal progress 
 which had been foretold for so many centuries. This was the village in which 
 Jesus "lodged" during the last few days of his life on earth. "Jesus loved 
 Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus •," and Bethany was " the tow^n of Mary and 
 lier sister Martha." Here, with a mortal sorrow, ho wept with grieving relatives 
 over his dead fi'iend ; and here by his Divine power he restored that lost friend to 
 life and sisterly love. Here was the house of Simon the lejier, where Mary 
 anointed Christ as he sat at meat, with the precious ointment of spikenard, which 
 good work has, in fulfilment of the prophecy Christ then spoke, been told as a 
 memorial of her wherever the gospel has been preached ; here, too, Martha was 
 tenderly reproved for her too great earnestness about worldly matters, to the 
 exclusion of things spiritual ; and, last of all, it was among the uplands that 
 overhang the village that his disciples talked with their Master for the last time, 
 and when he was gone from them heard the words, " This same Jesus, which is 
 taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him 
 go into heaven." 
 
 There is no doubt whatever about the site of Bethany ; and in its modern 
 name, El'Azariyeh, a remembrance of Lazarus is preserved. The name of 
 " Bethany " has disappeared for ages, and very suitable is its changed appellation ; 
 for almost all the interest it possesses is inseparably linked with the family whom 
 Jesus loved, and with the great miracle he wrought on their behalf. 
 
 Tiu-ce paths lead to the village from Jerusalem, and every one of these must 
 often have been trodden by our Lord and his disciples. Two lead over the 
 summit of the Mount of Olives ; the third, which is the main road to Jericho, 
 passes I'ound the southern shoulder of the hill. It was probably by this latter 
 road that Jesus passed in triumph on the ass's colt ; and the view of Jerusalem 
 over which he wept must have been almost the same as that from the IMoant of
 
 124 "THE TOWN OF MARY AND HER SISTER MARTHA." 
 
 OfTence which has been described. A rocky ridge Iiides Bethany fi-oni (lie top 
 of the Mount of Olives, for it is situated in a wooded hollow on the eastern slope 
 of the ^foniit. The village stands on a rocky knoll, and is wretched and ruinous 
 enough. The houses are built of old materials, among which arc bevelled stones 
 Mliich must have st(»oiI in the house walls of the t(j\vn of i\Iary in Mai'v's day. 
 At that time, when the terraces were kept in order, the gardens rich in palm and 
 fruit trees, and the hills green with corn, Bethany, " the house of dates," must 
 have been a sweet secluded spot, whose freshness and tranquillity must have con- 
 trasted delightfully with the glare and turmoil of the thronged city; and even 
 now, though cultivation is much neglected by the lazy and unthrifty peasants 
 who tenant it, yet surrounded as it is by groups of olives, pomegranates, almond 
 and lig trees, and by sloping hills and broken rocks, it retains much that is 
 cheerful and picturesciue. 
 
 No palms now wave their feathery Ijranches over Bethany and her gardens. 
 The prominent feature is a massive block of ancient masonry which towers 
 above her houses, and, built of bevelled stones and standing on a scarped rock, 
 more resendjles, from its strength and situation, a fort than a private residence. 
 This is the traditional house of Mary and Martha; but satisfactory evidence of its 
 authenticity is wanting. At the same time there is no conclusive evidence to 
 reljut the assumption. The house of Simon the leper is also pointed out ; and 
 beneath a building marked in our sketch by a small minaret is the so-called tomb 
 of Lazarus. Passing through a low entrance and down a long flight of worn steps 
 into a rockdiewn chamber, a few more steps lead down to a smaller vault, in which 
 the corpse of Lazarus is said to have lain, and whence at the Almighty's word the 
 dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave clothes. It is scarcely probable 
 that the tomb was in the middle of the town ; but we do not require these sites to 
 be authenticated to convince us that we are on holy ground. The presence of 
 Christ pervades Bethany and its neighbourhood. "We know that the houses of the 
 village received our Lord, and that every path about it was habitualh^ trodden by 
 the Saviour's feet; that the last undisturbed moments of his life were passed 
 there ; that there he raised the dead ; and that, when he had offered up the all- 
 sufficient sacrifice of himself, his last walk in bodily form upon earth hallowed the 
 road that led thither ; and finally, that from some spot in that sequestered vale, 
 in sight of the dwelling places he had loved, he ascended to his Father in heaven. 
 Bethany has no other history than this. Could we wish for fuller annals ? Of 
 Bethphage, its sister village, no trace exists.
 
 ( '-'7 ) 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 JERUSALEM ANI> ITS INHABITANTS. 
 
 " How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people! How is she become as 
 a widow ! She that was great among the nations, and princess among the pro- 
 vinces, how is she become tributary ! She wcepeth sore in the night, and her 
 
 tears are on her cheeks Judah is gone into captivity ; . . . . 
 
 she dwelleth among the heathen, she findeth no rest; .... and from ihe 
 daughter of Zion all her beauty is departed." " How hath the Lord covered the 
 daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger, and cast down from heaven unto the 
 earth the beauty of Israel, and remembered not his footstool in the day of his 
 anger! The Lord hath swallowed up all the habitations of Jacol), and hath not 
 pitied ; he hath thrown down in his wrath the strongholds of the daughter of 
 Judah." .... " The Lord hath cast off his altar; he hath abhorred his 
 sanctuary ; he hath given up into the hand of the enemy the walls of her palaces. 
 All that pass by clap their hands at them, they hiss and wag their head at the 
 daughter of Jerusalem, saying. Is this the city that men call the perfection of 
 beauty, the joy of the whole earth ?" 
 
 From the slopes of Olivet, from the brow of the Mount of Offence, from the 
 summit of Scopus, a hasty glance is quite suETicient to show us that these stern 
 predictions have had their complete and literal accomplishment, and that " the 
 Lord hath doue that which he had devised : he hath fulfilled his word." Shrunken 
 and forlorn, the mere shadow of her former self, the fallen Jerusalem now crouches 
 upon the splendid site which Judah's mouarchs once made so glorious. The 
 enemy has swept from Zion the walls of her palaces, the monuments of her kings ; 
 and fields of grain or gardens of herljs llourish upon their site. There is not a 
 hut uponOphcl, or a hovel in that great northern suburl^ which Agrippa enclosed. 
 The site of the Xystus, and the valley of the Tyropa?on are encumbered with 
 rubbish and filth, and within the contracted limits of the modern town is many a 
 desolate tract covered with ruin or sown with corn. There is life within her walls ; 
 but how dwindled is her population ! There is no stir in her streets, which were 
 once so " full of people," and they seem almost deserted to the stranger's eye. 
 Her present inhabitants are approximately estimated at about thirteen thousand.
 
 128 1!A(']1EL'S TOMB. 
 
 "What they were in tlic ila^'s of her glory we cfinnot tell, for we are altogether 
 without data on the subject. At the time of the siege by Titus, the city was 
 crowded with strangers, who had come up to the Feast of the Passover; and, 
 according to Josophus, it would appear that there were 1,200,000 people within 
 the walls. Tacitus gives just lialf tlie nuinljer, and many Ijclieve that in his 
 account the nuniljcrs of the l>csieged are overstated, " The precious sons of Zion 
 comparaljle to fine gold, how are they esteemed as earthen pitchers, the work of 
 the hands of the potter !" Ncarl}' half of the inhabitants of Jerusalem are Jews, 
 but they are strangers and paupers where stood their ancient palaces and homes. 
 Wretched and squalid, idle and dependent, they subsist almost entirely on contri- 
 butions from Europe. 
 
 Leaving Jerusalem by the Jaffa Gate, and turning southward across the 
 plain of Rephaim, just before mounting the hill to the convent of Mar Elias, 
 there is in the very middle of the path a v>'ell to which tradition has ai)pended a 
 pretty legend, reminding the traveller that the road he is following leads to Beth- 
 lehem, and is full of recollections of the birth of Jesus. The wise men from the 
 East had come to Ilerod in Jerusalem to inquire where they might find the new- 
 born King of the Jews, and thence pursued their route to Bethlehem along this 
 very road. It was night, and they were uncertain as to their further course; 
 when, as they stooped over the well's brink to draw water, they suddenly saw 
 the heavenly messenger that had led them from their own land, brightly mirrored 
 in the still water below. They looked up, and saw it glistening over head, and 
 followed it till it rested above the manger in which Jesus lay. 
 
 Rachel's tomb, the illustration on the opposite page, is soon reached. 
 There is nothing imposing in the building which bears Eachel's name ; but that 
 it covers her dust there seems to be no doubt whatever. The Jew, the Moslem, 
 and the Christian, honour it alike, and agree in their traditions respecting it. 
 Hard b}- the spot marked by this simple monument, Jacob's tents were pitched, 
 and around it his flocks pastured during that anxious time of heart-wearing sus- 
 pense whilst "Rachel travailed and had hard labour;'" and on its verj' site, 
 when the worst was known, and Rachel was dead, the mourning patriarch reared 
 a pillar over the grave in which he laid her. That pillar, Moses tells us, was 
 standing when Jacob's posterity were restored to the land in which their ancestor 
 had sojourned ; and Samuel speaks of " Rachel's sepulchre in the border of 
 Benjamin." Josephus alludes to it as "over against Ephrath " (Bethlehem), 
 which describes its situation exactly. The Jews have recently succeeded in pur- 
 chasing from the Moslems the shrine so dear to them, and around the grave of 
 their mother their tombs arc scattered.
 
 o 
 
 H 
 O
 
 ( rM ) 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " BETHLEHEM AND THE LAND OF JUDAH." 
 
 Rachel was the wife of Jacob's aCfoetioii. lie had lovctl her, had wooed her, 
 and had won her from her father by hard and valuable service. When the time 
 came in which he was to receive his reward, he was defrauded l)y Laljan, and 
 he found that he had unconsciously become the husband of Rachel's plain sister 
 Leah. We cannot wonder that Leah found but little love in her married life ; 
 Imt God, who looks upon mortal affairs with other eyes than those of mortals, 
 blessed the neglected wife more than the loved sister she liad supplanted. He 
 blessed her with many more children ; he blessed her with a longer life ; and on 
 her and not upon Rachel did he bestow the dignity of l^eing the ancestress of 
 Christ. Judah was son of Leah, David sprang from Judah, and Bethlehem 
 formed part of Judah's heritage. 
 
 The sketch engraved in this chapter is taken from a field on the terraced 
 hillside on the left of the road before entering Bethlehem. The town stands 
 upon a limestone ridge, and seems never to have been a place of importance from 
 its size or strength, though it is one of the most ancient towns in Palestine, and 
 was fortified 1»y Rehoboam. It has never played a part in secular history ; but 
 even before the Ijirth of the Redeemer its houses and its inhaliitants were fsimons, 
 and to us the interest it excites is second only to that which Jerusalem arouses. 
 It was the city of Christ's ancestry in the flesh. From thence Elimelech and his 
 wife Naomi went forth to the land of Moab ; and thither, when her husband's sons 
 were dead, and the Almighty had dealt very bitterly with her, Naomi returned, 
 and her daughter-in-law Ruth was with her. " And they came to Bethlehem in 
 the beginning of barley harvest." Little thought Ruth of the higli destiny that 
 was in store for her when she clung in true affection to poor and aged Naomi, and 
 deserted her laud, her people, and their worship, for the stranger homes of Judah 
 and the service of the Lord of hosts. 
 
 Every reader knows the simple tale of how she became the rich man's wife ; 
 but further and greater honour was in store lor her, and she bore a son, through 
 whom she, the daughter of the stranger and idolater, became the great-grand- 
 mother of King David, and the ancestress of the Mcssiali. At IVthleliem, as 
 
 K
 
 132 " BETHLEHEM AND THE LAND OF JUDAII." 
 
 wc study this i^nge of the domestic history of the place, and these undouljted 
 records of the manners and customs of its inlialjitants in that old time, we can 
 almost realize the scenes described. Our view is bounded by Ruth's native 
 mountains, the rugged land of ]\Ioab, beyond Jordan : around us -are the homes 
 of Bethlehem, and at our feet are spread tlie iiclds in which she gleaned. 
 
 Time passes on ; Naomi and Ruth and Obed are safe with Israel's God, and 
 Jesse dwells in Bethlehem. Then, whilst upon those neighbouring hills David 
 was tending sheep, Samuel came to Bethlehem, sanctified Jesse and his seven 
 elder sons jireparatory to offering sacrifice, and, as they passed before liini one by 
 one, announced that the Lord refused them, for he looked not upon the outward 
 appearance, but on the heart. David was sent for, was chosen by the Lord, was 
 anointed by Samuel, " and the Spirit of the Lord came upon David from that 
 day forward." David's peaceful occupation ends, and he is soon lost to Beth- 
 lehem's pastures. The conqueror of Goliath, the favourite, and the son-in-law 
 of Saul, sees little of his old haunts till the monarch's frenzied jealousy drives 
 him to seek shelter as a fugitive in the wilderness of Judah. At one period of 
 his troubled career the Philistines had taken and garrisoned Bethlehem ; and 
 David, in the thirsty wilderness, thought of his boyhood's home, and longed for 
 Avater from the well of Bethlehem, from which he was wont to drink in boyhood 
 and youth. So great was the power which he had acquired over the hearts of 
 his companions, that without his request, or even his [knowledge, three of his 
 most distinguished followers broke through the Philistines' guards and perilled 
 their lives to gratify his wish. In many ways this incident gives us an insight 
 into David's character, both in his influence over others and his mastery of 
 himself. He thought it wrong that men's lives should be jeopardized for the 
 supply of his bodily wants, and he poured out the water of Bethlehem's well in 
 libation to the Lord. Within a few minutes' walk of the modern town is a deep, 
 wide cistern hewn in the rock. It has two or three openings, and is very ancient. 
 It bears David's name, and may probably be the very one whose water the three 
 mighty men bore away in evidence of their enthusiastic devotion to their leader. 
 The pretty tale of early agricultural life contained in the book of Ruth gives a 
 pleasant interest to Bethlehem and its corn-fields. As the birthplace of David, 
 too, as the scene of his consecration by Samuel to Israel's throne, it claims a 
 visit iVom the wandering stranger; but these associations with the old dispensa- 
 tion, noteworthy as the}' are, are altogether eclipsed by that one momentous 
 occurrence which inspired the first paragraph of the covenant of grace. 
 
 In Bethlehem a virgin's child was born. The child lay humldy in a manger, 
 l)nt the glory of the Lord blazed through the midnight gloom. The messenger
 
 f^ 
 
 
 i J 
 
 ]}. If i>*Mf 111: „ ,i,i
 
 " JBETIILEUEM AND THE LAND OF JUDAH." 135 
 
 of the Lord proclaimed the good tidings of salvation, joy, and poaco ; and in 
 triiiniplial choir the Lord's host Ijiirst forth iu strains of praise to (Jod for his 
 free love toward men. Over Bethlehem, until the eastern sages worshipped the 
 new-born child, hung the star that had miraculously led them from their distant 
 homes. Then when their iaith saw a king iu the young babe so meanly lodged, 
 and they laid regal gifts at his feet, the bright messenger's mission ended and it 
 vanished. Li Bethlehem the wise men heard prophetic warning iu their dreams, 
 and meekly obeyed God's message thus conveyed. In Bethlehem, in the still 
 night, Joseph, too, dreamt a dream, and under night's sheltering shades lied from 
 David's city with his virgin wife and her royal child for safety to the Nile. 
 From Bethlehem's mothers a long, loud wail of anguish rose when their innocent 
 babes perished because the tyrant foolishly thought that by his savage mandate 
 he could bring the sure word of God's prophecy to nought. 
 
 The sky, the hills, the vales, the rocks of Bethlehem saw these things come 
 to jmss. They heard the heavenly song, and shone in the divine refulgence of 
 that holy midnight hour ; and they arc better witnesses to us of the all- important 
 events of which Bethlehem was the scene than the cundjrous structures with 
 which man has hidden the place which saw the Saviour's birth. They have been 
 for ever consecrated by the advent of the Kedeemer on that night. Bethlehem 
 in the land of Judah is in very truth not the least among the princes of Judah. 
 There dawned the light which illumines and benefits man while time is ; and when 
 time is no longer, guides him to a Ijlessed eternity. The doctrine of Christ was 
 the groundwork of civilization here, and the sacrifice of Christ the gateway to 
 everlasting happiness hereafter. There is but one faith now in Bethlehem, and 
 that is the faith of Him who was laid an infant in Bethlehem's manger; but alas! 
 Christianity there is little more than nominal— rather a political than a religious 
 distinction. The inhaliitants now number about three thousand. They are 
 peasants, and cultivate the fields and terraced gardens around, and some of them 
 also carve crosses, rosaries, etc., for sale to the pilgrims. Before 1834 there was 
 a moslem quarter in the town ; but when the peasants revolted against Egyptian 
 rule, it was destroyed by Ibrahim Pacha, and all the Mohammedans expelled. 
 The Christians were disarmed, for they were a turbulent set, prone to revolt; 
 but on this particular occasion they were supposed by the stern pacha to be less 
 guilty than their moslem fellow citizens, with whom they had ever been at 
 deadly feud. The mode in which the disarmament was carried out was altogether 
 original, and to our European notions, intensely oriental. The Bethlehemites, 
 and the people of other villages disarmed, were not called upon to give up all the 
 arms they possessed, for in this case some might be held back, and at any rate it
 
 136 " BETHLEHEM AND THE LAND OF JUDAH." 
 
 would be a work of trouble to find out whether all were given up or not ; but 
 they were required to surrender a specified number of weapons whether they 
 possessed that quantity or not. The lunnber was alwaj's made large enough to 
 cover the whole of the arms which it was suspected might be in the hands of the 
 peasants, and something more. The result of this rule was, (hat many of the 
 poorer people had to search for and })urchase arms at a ruinous price, to avoid 
 being innnured in prison or being taken for soldiers ; whilst the richer classes 
 bought worthless weapons and gave them uj) to the authorities, still keeping their 
 own more valuable ones. 
 
 While the soldiers were carrying out this process in Bethlehem, and many 
 of its inhabitants Avere in prison and all were in fear and distress, the English 
 consul at Damascus, wlio was staying at Jerusalem, rode out to visit Solomon's 
 Pools in company' with one of the English missionaries. As he approached 
 l>ethleheni on his return, the people flocked out to meet him, and implore the 
 help of England in their trouble ; and then all at once they stripped oft" their 
 outer garments and spread them in the way before the horse's feet of him whose 
 power they thought might avail ftn- their aid. The consul was affected to tears, 
 but he was unal)le to interfere between the grim pacha and those who were for 
 the time his subjects. The incident affords us an additional illustration of the 
 truthfulness to nature of the events conunemorated in Scripture, and of the per- 
 manence of manners of every kind in the unchanging East.
 
 ( i'^V ) 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE CONVENTS IN THE LAND OF JUDATI. 
 
 RiDiNU tlu'ougli Betblclieiii, wc soon come to the vast couvent and cluu-cli of the 
 Nativity. There are many primitive legends, which invest the lields and rocks 
 round Betlilehem with attractions for the votaries of superstition. The place 
 where the shepherds watched their (locks on the night of the Redeemer's birth is 
 pointed out, and so is the village in which they dwelt. Over the Grotto of the 
 Nativity at Bethlehem, a splendid basilica was erected by the Empress Helena 
 about 327 — the oldest Christian cdiiice in the world. It is about 120 feet long 
 and 110 feet broad, and is divided into a central nave and four side aisles, by 
 rows of Corinthian columns of marble, wliich may not improbably have previously 
 belonged to the porches of the Temple at Jerusalem. A wall is built across the 
 end of this nave, to separate it from the choir. It is neglected, and falling into 
 ruin ; the pavement is broken, the mosaics which once adorned its walls have 
 almost disappeared, and the roof is much out of repair. It is invested by noisy 
 swarms of dealers in rosaries, crosses, carvings, etc., in olive wood, stones of 
 olives, and mother of pearl from the Red Sea, who turn the house of prayer into 
 a den of thieves. 
 
 The great object of attraction is beneath the choir, of which half belongs to 
 the Greeks and half to the Armenians, whilst the Latins have a church branch- 
 ing off from its northern side. All three sects have staircases and passages to the 
 sacred grottoes underground. " The Altar of the Innocents" is said to mark the 
 spot where twenty thousand of the children slain hy Herod's order were buried. 
 An iron door leads to the chapel of the Nativity, a low vault hewn in the rock. 
 In the pavement of a small semicircular recess is a marble slab, in which is a silver 
 star, with the words, " Here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary," inscribed 
 round it in Latin, Sixteen silver lamps suspended round the star are constantly 
 kept burning. The whole vault is overlaid with marble and paintings, and gold 
 and silver, silk and embroidery ; and there is nothing whatever in this gorgeous 
 crypt that speaks to our hearts of the new-born Christ and Bethlehem's stable, 
 except the few thrilling words of the simple inscription quoted above. 
 
 In St. Matthew's Gospel wo are told that when the star which led the wise
 
 138 THE CONVENTS IN THE LAND OF JUUAU. 
 
 men of the East liad shown tlicra tlic place where the young child was, they came 
 into '^ the house,'' and saw the young child with Mary his mother; and in the 
 absence of any satisfactory explanation, it seems difficult to believe that this 
 subterranean vault would be designated as a house by the inspired evangelist. 
 We can, however, feel sure that " JieitLahm," " The House of Flesh," is identical 
 with Bethlehem, " The House of Bread," where Christ was born. Very near this 
 spot, that wonderful mystery was brought about : more cannot be said. 
 
 Three convents, belonging to the Greeks, Latins, and Armenians respectively, 
 join the church of the Nativity, and form altogether an enormous pile, which 
 more resembles a fortress than an ecclesiastical edifice. 
 
 A ride through ravines and over bare j)lateaus for nearly three hours, reaches 
 the extraordinary convent of Mar Saba. The convent is a strange construction, 
 placed in a most singular position. The gorge of the Kidron at this point is 
 gloomy and savage bej'ond description. Eagged precipices on each side fall into 
 its stony bed ; and on the face of the western clifl", where a small side ravine 
 brealvs the wall of rock and falls abruptly into the torrent, hangs the religious 
 edifice which bears St. Saba's name. Every narrow ledge, every rugged pro- 
 jection, has been turned to accoimt to afford a communication or support a 
 buttress ; but still the whole building looks as if it were on the point of slipping 
 from its strange perch and tumbling into the chasm below. In its construction 
 advantage has been taken of natural caves in the face of the cliff, and of artificial 
 excavations scooped out by the labour of the earlier anchorites. In front of 
 these, other cells have been built wherever a shelf of rock could be found ; and 
 long intricate narrow galleries winding over the precipice, and interminable flights 
 of stairs, afford roundabout communications from one group of cells to another. 
 The church occupies the point of the rock, and is upheld by enormous buttresses 
 which spring from the depths of the abyss. It forms a prominent feature in the 
 sketch given in this chapter. Usually, travellers bring credentials from Je- 
 rusalem, and on these being read, the number of persons sj^eoified are admitted, 
 provided they are of the nobler sex, for no female foot may cross the threshold. 
 Ladies may encamp outside and protect themselves as best they may against 
 storms and robbers ; or they may occupy one of two lofty watch towers which 
 stand outside the walls, and which are entered by a doorway about twenty feet 
 from the ground : the monks are not forbidden to furnish a ladder ; but their 
 hospitality to the weaker sex goes no further. 
 
 Passing through the wild region in which our view is taken — a tract whose 
 oidy denizens are the hyena, the wolf, the jackal, and the gazelle — the route leads 
 downwards to the plain in which so many miracles were wrought.
 
 C HI ) 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 DESCENT TO JERICHO AND THE DEAD SEy\. 
 
 Anv one who would venture to travel from Jerusalem to Jcrielio without Dedouiu 
 protection would almost infallibly share the misadventure of the man in our 
 Lord's parable, and fall among thieves. From time immemorial such seems to 
 have been the custom of the locality ; and in modern times the custom is recog- 
 nised by the authorities, and an agreement has been concluded with the lawless 
 denizens of the district, whereby the sum which each traveller must pay for safe 
 conduct has been definitively settled. The black mail once paid, one or more 
 wild Bedouins are sent with each party as evidence of the payment, and to take 
 care that in their case the time-honoured institution of robbery is not carried out. 
 The robbers who protect are intensely picturesque, and lend au additional wild- 
 ness to the stern scenery through which they are the escort. After going round 
 the back of the convent of St. Saba, the ride for some distance is along the edge of 
 the precipice until the crags gradually subside into steep slopes on each side of 
 the ravine, and it can be crossed. We traverse a succession of smooth hills, 
 scantily clothed with grass and small shrubs, among which partridges, and 
 groups of gazelles may be seen. Now and then a glimpse is caught of the plain 
 to which we are descending, over a sloping table-laud, bordered on each side by 
 the rugged mountains of the wilderness, which stretches out below into spurs and 
 ridges and peaks of strange fantastic shapes. Beyond these ridges, beyond the 
 plain upon which they encroach, bej'ond and above the more distant mountain- 
 chain, rises as it seems a fair white cloud, softened by the intervening atmo- 
 sphere to pearly hue. For a mere impalpable vapour, however, it is strangely 
 stationary : its definite outline does not change, nor do those shadows modelled 
 in tender grey alter. Can it be snow on which we look ? What alp shuts in the 
 seething plain of Jericho ? What mountain in this arid region ever bore that 
 cool, stainless robe ? It can hardly be believed, but it really is eternal snow seen 
 through the clear air very far away ; for that white cloud which refuses to move 
 or change is the king of the Anti-Lebanon, the landmark of northern Syria, the 
 glorious, the sacred Hermou. 
 
 Scrambling along the sides of steep defiles, always descending, until at last
 
 142 DESCENT TO JERICHO AND THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 we get clear of the mountains, anrl emerging on the plain, the shore of the most 
 mysterious sheet of water in Ihe world is soon reached. It has been designated 
 by many names at different epochs. In holy writ it is called "the Sea of the 
 Plain," " the Salt Sea," " the East Sea ;" by the ancients, " the Lake Asphal- 
 tites;" by the pilgrims, "the Sea of Death," " the River of Devils," and "the 
 River that ever stinketh." By moderns it is called " the Dead Sea ;" and by the 
 Arabs, " the Sea of Lot." The whole aspect of the sea and of the surrounding 
 objects is calculated to strike the beholder's mind with awe. The sullen waters 
 lying heavy and motionless have a dull leaden hue, and all around is still and 
 silent, and Ijlasted and dead. The burning rocks of Moab's mountains and 
 Judah's wilderness on cither side, scarred and cleft by some pre-historic con- 
 vulsion, are naked and l)arren, and do not afford a pathway even for a goat 
 between their precipices and the sea. The blighted plain does not refresh 
 the eye with verdure, but glares 'white and unfruitful, with deposits of salt. 
 The white glistening shore is thickly strewed with drift-wood, trees, and 
 boughs that have been torn by Jordan's floods from the thickets on its banks, 
 swept down into the lifeless sea and cast upon its shore, where the salt-encrusted 
 branches look like the blanched skeletons of some great herd of unknown beasts 
 that in pre- Adamite times had perished here. 
 
 How changed is the scene from when Lot lifted up his eyes and looked down 
 on the great plain, and saw that it was well watered everywhere, even as the 
 garden of the Lord, and chose the fruitful land for his place of sojourn ! He 
 looked to the productiveness of the land, and to that alone, and cared not that the 
 people among whom he meant to dwell were sinners before the Lord exceedingly. 
 But though Lot thought too much about worldly wealth, though he was thus 
 careless about the creed and the morals of his neighbours, and though he suffered 
 his children to form alliances with the wicked, his heart was riglit towards Grod ; 
 and God, who saw the heart, jwotected him, God's mercy warned him, God's 
 angels hurried him away from his relatives and his property ; and then upon the 
 unrighteous cities and their wicked iudwellers, upon the rich and fertile vale, 
 fell floods of fire from heaven. Four thousand years have passed since the foul 
 smoke of that destruction, going up like the smoke of a furnace, darkened the 
 blue sky ; and for all that time the land, once so fertile and well watered, has 
 remained blasted and parched and lifeless, the ever-enduring monument of the 
 righteous judgment of the Almighty. 
 
 Our sketch is taken from the northern shore of the Dead Sea, looking to the 
 south-east, along the mountains of Moalj ; and the contrast between the white 
 beach covered with l)leached wood and the dull purple water is very striking.
 
 m k 
 
 .'I*,* 
 
 i'-i 
 
 %.'«" 
 
 \i
 
 ( II- ) 
 
 xxviir. 
 The accursed sea and the sacred river. 
 
 Among the iiiniiy wonders of tlic Sea of Lot, the greatest marvel is its extra- 
 ordinary depression. Few spots, whether of laud or water, arc more than a few 
 feet below the level of the earth-embracing ocean ; and in one of the most 
 remarkable instances, that of the Caspian Sea, the dei)ressiou amounts onl}' to 
 seventy-six Paris feet. Lieut. Symonds, of the English military survej', and the 
 United States expedition under Lieut. Lynch, have satisfactorily proved that the 
 depression of the Dead Sea is more than thirteen hundred English feet below the 
 surface of the Mediterranean. It is four thousand feet below Jerusalem; and its 
 climate, and that of the great northern valley (" The Ghov") of which its basin 
 is the termination, are totally dill'ercut in character. The temperature is alwaj's 
 high, the air sultry, stagnant, and oppressive, and the suu strikes down fierce and 
 relentless, so that the lake wants uo outlet to carry off the great body of water 
 daily poured into it by the Jordan. For a brief space during winter Qoods it 
 may overflow the flats at its southern extremity, but strong evaporation ever at 
 work soon brings it back within its usual boundary. Mure or less haze always 
 hovers over its surface, for it is an ever-seething cauldron ; and sometimes the 
 steam of rapid evaporation has been seen to rise " in l>road transparent columns 
 of vapour, not unlike waterspouts in appearance, but very much larger." 
 
 The properties of the water, its strange density and Ijuoyancy, and its 
 horribly nauseous taste, are among the other marked peculiarities of this monu- 
 mental sea. Experience as to the first point in the unctuous Iluid fully confirms 
 the relations of travellers. It seems almost impossible to sink, and persons unable 
 to swim in fresh or salt water elsewhere have fuund that here they " could sit, 
 stand, lie, or swim in the water without difficulty." Swimmers find that they 
 cannot make much progress, for they float absurdly high, and cannot keep their 
 legs under water, for their limbs obstinately persist in protruding themselves 
 above the surface. A traveller once managed to get one of his horses into the 
 water, and says that the spectacle was extremely ludicrous. " As soon as his 
 body touched the water he was afloat, and turned over on his side ; he struggled 
 with all his force to preserve his equilibrium ; but the moment he stopped 
 
 L
 
 140 THE ACCUl^SED SEA AND THE SACEED KIVEK. 
 
 moving, he turned over on his side again, and almost on his Ijack, kiclving his 
 leet out of water and snorting with terror." Many travellers have found un- 
 pleasant effects from the action of the water on the skin— such as redness, 
 accompanied l)y smarting as if from a burn ; others have only felt a slight 
 pricking, especially in any place where the skin had been chafed. Its curious and 
 disagreeable feel upon the skin is greasy and clammy, as if one had been bathed 
 in oil mixed with some glutinous lluid. It is almost impossible to give in words a 
 good idea of the nauseous taste of this slimy liquid. It is intensely salt, acrid, 
 and iningent, and stings the tongue ; and this first sensation on taking a sip is 
 followed by an abominably bitter taste and a burning upon the lips and palate. 
 
 All that was mysterious in these strange properties of the Dead Sea water 
 has beeu made clear by the researches of science. Its specific gravity has been 
 found to be a fourth greater than that of fresh water •, and it holds in solution 
 more than a quarter of its weight of mineral salts — rather more than two hundred 
 and sixty-four thousandths. So charged with saline ingredients is it, that it is 
 said to be unable to dissolve common salt thrown into it. No wonder that 
 everj'thiug its waves have moistened — sticks, stones, clay, rock, or raud — should, 
 when dry, become snowy white and sparkling, from the crystallization of all 
 these superabundant salts. The Arabs obtain their chief supply of salt from 
 hence ; and Irby and Mangles found them in one place peeling off a solid surface 
 of salt several inches in thickness, and loading it on asses. 
 
 The clifl's on both sides of the sea are of limestone, but there are many 
 indications of volcanic action in the valley, and at its southern end is Gebel 
 Usdum, a ridge of fossil salt. Pure sulphur is found in small pieces along the 
 shore, and is used by the Arabs to make their gunpowder. Nitre is also found, 
 as is volcanic slag and pumice stone, so light that it floats in water. No 
 bitumen is seen on the strand, but pieces of black bituminous stone, which partially 
 ignites in the fire and emits a strong smell. It is said that bitumen appears in 
 the sea only after earthquakes, and this seems the true solution. After the 
 earthquake of 1834 a great quantity of asphalt was thrown on the south-western 
 shore; and in 1837, after an earthquake, a huge mass of bitumen was seen 
 floating in the sea, and at last it grounded on a shoal on the western side. 
 
 The first person, as far as we know, who launched a boat upon this sea, met 
 with a miserable end. It was in the summer of 1835 that an Irishman, named 
 Costigan, having determined to explore the unknown shores of the mysterious 
 sea, had a small open boat carried by camels from the Mediterranean to the Sea 
 of Galilee, and thence to the Dead Sea. In his tiny vessel, accompanied by one 
 Maltese servant, he coasted the sea till he reached its southern extremity. The
 
 L 2
 
 THE ACCURSED SEA AND THE SACRED RIVER. 149 
 
 preparations for the rash undertaking luid been mismanaged ; and wliilc tliey 
 were far to tlic southward, water fliiled them. Tlie heat was intense, and they 
 had to row liard in (he burning sunshine for two or three daj-s to reaeli the 
 northern end of the sea; but ere they touched the shore, Costigan had got his 
 death-stroke. Years afterwards the sea was again traversed, and soundings were 
 taken of its depths. These dischjsed a reniarlcable feature in tlic bott(jni of the 
 sea. Far away to the southward, a singular promontory juts out from tlie coast 
 of Moal), and extends two-thirds of tlie way to the opposite shore, a long point 
 running northwards for some miles in the very middle of the channel. From 
 this peninsnla, which is called by the Arabs, " The Tongue " (ICl Lisiui), the 
 whole sea northwards is of great depth ; but from the northern part of the 
 peninsula southward it is quite shallow— so shallow, indeed, that in seasons when 
 the water is low, the channel between the promontory and the western coast can 
 be forded even by donkeys. For several j^ears, however, the water has been 
 too deep to allow of this passage. The greatest depth of the northern portion 
 was found to be thirteen hundred feet, and within a few yards of the eastern 
 precipices it is more than seven hundred feet deep. The greater part of the 
 southern portion is only two or three feet deep, and consecpiently the stretch of 
 the sea to the southward varies by two or three miles, according to the season ; 
 for when the water is high, the flats are covered ; and when it is low, they arc 
 beds of mud and slime encrusted with salt. The length of the sea is from thirt}'- 
 eight to forty miles, and its greatest breadth is about lune miles, which diminishes 
 to five miles at its northern extremity. 
 
 Turning northwards, and riding over the dreary plain towards the woods, 
 which mark the Jordan's course, the river is soon reached. The change from the 
 sweltering heat and blinding glare of the white naked plain, to the pleasant green 
 and dark shades of the groves and thickets which fringe the shores of the sacred 
 stream, is as delightful as it is sudden. The gloomy sea has lain as silent and 
 motionless as death ; Jordan sweeps by full of exuberant life, swift and joyous. 
 Now with rush and ripple, freshening the sultry air by its motion, and filling it 
 with the pleasant sound of its hurrying career ; now whirling in eddies, until 
 in some quiet nook beneath overhanging bonghs, a dark pool reflects on its 
 glassy surface the trunks of the tall trees that bend over it, and the feathery reeds 
 whose stems it bathes. 
 
 Here, at Easter, a singular ceremony takes place, for on the Monday in 
 Passion Week the pilgrims come down in thousands and encamp at Jericho. 
 The Turkish governor of Jerusalem, at the head of an armed escort, marches 
 with them to protect the unarmed multitude from the Arabs. In the dead of
 
 150 THE ACCUESED SEA AN]J THE SACRED lilVEK. 
 
 Uic night, two or three hours before dawn, the sleepers are roused by the sound 
 of kettledrums, and then a man on horseback raises a burning torch and gives 
 the signal for departure. Hundreds of torches are lit in a moment, watch-fires 
 blaze up along the track, and silently the pilgi-im host moves off towards the 
 river. Their bourne is a point where there is an opening through the dense 
 thickets, and where the shore, sloping down gradually to the water's edge, 
 affords easy access to the stream, which during most of its course flows between 
 steep banks. Now, in the early morning, the whole throng plunge into the 
 river. Some go in naked, but most of them have brought from their distant 
 homes white dresses, which, worn on this occasion, and soaked in Jordan's holy 
 water, are carefully laid by to serve for the wearer's shroud. A single mule, 
 horse, or camel carries nearly a whole family ; and father, mother, and children 
 all bathe together. Infants arc dipped in the stream, and by their involuntary 
 immersion derive the same benefits as those adults who have made the pil- 
 grimage of their own free-will, and they are thus saved the expense and risk of 
 a journey to the Holy Land in after life. Most of the throng keep near the 
 Ijank, where the water is shallow and the bottom very muddy : but some, 
 especially the Copts from the banks of the Nile, swim and sport in the strong 
 mid-current. But while the pilgrims wash both " soul and body," and cleanse 
 them from all impurities, material and spiritual, they not unfrequently fall 
 victims to their zeal ; lor incautiously venturing too far out, they lose their 
 footing on the slippeiy mud, and are carried off by the stream and drowned. 
 When the pilgrims have finished their new baptism, they cut boughs or walking 
 sticks as remembrances of their visit to these sacred scenes ; and then, before the 
 heat of the day sets in, they return to their encampment at Jericho. Those 
 who visit the Dead Sea will not bathe there for fear its accursed flood should 
 wash away all the sanctifying effect of the holy stream, and send them away 
 from Palestine as sinful as they came. 
 
 Our sketch is taken from a point rather above the bathing place, looking up 
 a reach of the river, which after flowing along the base of a Ijold bare cliff, on 
 the shore that once belonged to Reuben's descendants, turns suddenly towards 
 us and takes its course between two beautiful masses of rich woodland, where 
 tall trees tower above the dense underwood that fringe the banks, which were 
 almost concealed by the reeds that border the stream below. Then almost at 
 our feet it turns again with a broad sweep to resume its former direction. The 
 birds sing around in the thick covert, and the whole scene is lovelj^ and fresh, 
 and pure, and charms all the more from its violent contrast to the desolate and 
 blighted region around.
 
 ( l^'l ) 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 JERICHO AND THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 
 
 Tin bottles are made at Jerusalem for the reception of Jordan water. The 
 pilgrims bring them down to the river, fill them, and seal them up with the 
 intention of using the water for baptismal purposes in distant lands. For a small 
 fee, the seal of the patriarch, or some other church dignitary, is impressed upon 
 the corks of the metal bottles, and a regular certificate given which guarantees 
 the genuineness of the water inside. 
 
 Returning to Jericho, from the Jordan and its sweet banks, on the way arc 
 passed the ruins called Kasr Hajla, near which is a copious spring, and these have 
 been identified as marking the sight of Betli-Hogla (the "house of partridge "), 
 wliich was one of the landmarks of the boundary between Judah and Benjamin, 
 and belonged to the latter tribe. The ruined building was one of the convents of 
 St. John ; another, also in ruins, stands nearer the Jordan to the north. This 
 latter was an important foundation, and very ancient, for it was built before the 
 time of Justinian. In the twelfth century it was destroyed by an earthquake, 
 and rebuilt ; but late in the fifteenth century it was ruinous, and has so continued 
 ever since. 
 
 The plain crossed on the way is thinly sprinkled with shruljs, and much 
 perforated in some places by holes made by the jerboa. The village of Riha, or 
 Eria, is the degenerate representative of ancient Jericho. It is a wretched place. 
 The houses are mere hovels built up of loose stones taken from neighbouring 
 ruins, and roofed with reeds, stalks of Indian corn, and brushwood, covered with 
 stones and gravel. This roof is commonly continued over a platform in front of 
 the dwelling, and is supported by rough poles. The whole edifice is very in- 
 artificial, and usually has a small yard attached to it, inclosed by a fence of dr}- 
 thorns, in which the inmates keep their cattle at night. Heat, dirt, dust, and 
 fever are the most salient characteristics of the place. The people are enervated 
 by the sultry and sickly atmosphere in which they live, and are a feclile race, 
 who do but little work. Their gardens contain only a few fig and other fruit 
 trees, cucumbers, and a little toljacco. !Most of the rich land around lies waste, 
 but some extent of corn is cultivated by the Arabs from the high lauds, who sow
 
 152 JERICHO AND THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 
 
 the seed, and in harvest time again come down to reap the corn, giving the vil- 
 lagers a proportion of the crop tliey raise, perhaps Ijy way of rent. An old 
 massive square tower is the only substantial building in the village. It dates 
 probaldy from the time of the Crusades, and is usually garrisoned by a few Turk- 
 ish soldiers. This tower is the traditional house of Zaccheus, and the view from 
 the top of it is extensive and interesting. The inhabitants of Riha are filthy, 
 lazy, and notoriously immoral. In or aljout the miserable modern village, there 
 are no palm-trees living to remind us that here stood the strong and splendid 
 " city of palm-trees." One solitary trunk, dead and .soon to fall, with a few 
 ragged and withered leaf-stems only remaining of its leafy crown, is the sole relic 
 of the date groves for which Jericho was so famous. 
 
 The great vale, which includes both the plain of Jericho and the valley of 
 Salt, is crowded with recollections of scriptural incidents, extending from the 
 cradle of organized social life down to the close of our Saviour's earthly career; 
 for the cities of the plain must have been among the earliest settled communities 
 in the world. 
 
 Our first biblical glimpse of the plain is with Abraham and Lot, from the 
 mountains above Bethel ; and then avc are taken to the vale of Siddim, in which 
 stood the five cities whose kings, being defeated by the four more eastern chiefs, 
 and Lot being carried away captive, gave rise to the only recorded deed of arms 
 in which Abraham took part. Then finally comes the dire catastrophe, God's 
 tremendous judgment. 
 
 " The Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from 
 the Lord out of heaven •, and lie overthrew those cities, and all the plain." No 
 moi'e definite information is given us by Scripture of the manner in which this 
 judgment was carried out, and there are many hypotheses respecting it. When 
 this extraordinary region has been more thoroughly explored, some further dis- 
 coveries may perhaps be made, which may either throw light upon this obscure 
 subject, or may furnish material for new speculations and theories. Scripture 
 tells us all that it is important we should know. We know how steeped in 
 iniquity were Sodom and her sisters ; we know that they disregarded God's mer- 
 ciful warning to repent ; we know that they perished by his just judgment ; we 
 know that the warning given by their fate echoes through the teaching of holy 
 writ from the book of Genesis to that of Revelation ; and finally, in entire cor- 
 roboration of God's holy word, we ourselves can see the lifeless barren land, and 
 the briny bitter flood, in the place where, before it was blasted by sin, sweet 
 waters fertilized the delicious plain that bloomed like the garden of the Lord.
 
 ( 1^'5 ) 
 
 XXX. 
 
 PISGAII AND GILGAL. 
 
 When Israel was encamped on the plains of Moal^, it was on the crest of Pisgali 
 that Balaam stood with the king, the nol)lcs, and the false priests of Moab around 
 him, with the vain purpose, according to ancient custom among eastern nations, 
 at the commencement of war, of devoting their foes, the people of Israel, to de- 
 struction by solemn rites and incantations. 
 
 But Pisgah's summit soon after saw a scene totally dissimilar. Balaam 
 tried to evade God's command, and wished to make his spiritual gifts the stepping 
 stones by which to reach the ends of his avarice and ambition. Moses at once 
 bowed humljly to the will of God. Once he prayed earnestly, " Lord God, 
 thou hast begun to show thy servant thy greatness and thy mighty hand ; for 
 what God is there in heaven or in earth that can do according to thy works, and 
 according to thy might ? I pray thee, let me go over and see the good land that 
 is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain and Lebanon." God refused his pe- 
 tition, and from that moment Moses shows himself entirely absorljed b}^ anxiety 
 for the well-being, both temporal and spiritual, of the congregation he had so long 
 governed. His next prayer to God is not for himself, but for them, " Let the 
 Lord, the God of the spirits of all Hesh, set a man over the congregation, that the 
 congregation of the Lord be not as sheep which have no shepherd." Joshua was 
 appointed his successor, and upon him Moses put some of his honour, that the 
 congregation might be obedient to him. 
 
 This complete resignation of Moses to God's will is extremely touching. 
 He had been the Hebrews' leader and guide for more than forty years of trouble 
 and hardship. It was by his instrumentality that they were saved from Egyptian 
 bondage. Through him was the law delivered to them. He quelled their re- 
 bellions, and interceded with God for the rebels. To hira they looked in all 
 emergencies ; and now, when their toilsome pilgrimage was ovei", and they were 
 on the threshold of the fertile land which was the bourne of all their wayfarings, 
 he who had borne all the responsibility and anxiety necessarily attending such a 
 position as his, was to have no share in the reward. Without one word of re- 
 pining, the mighty prophet and leader reverently bends to the Divine decree, and
 
 15G riSGAn AND GILGAL. 
 
 passes his remaining time on eartli in teaching, in warning, in .encouraging, nnd 
 ill blessing the people he was just about to leave, and in praising the God who 
 would still be their guide. " Ascribe ye greatness unto our God. He is the 
 rock ; his work is perfect; for all his ways are judgment. A God of truth, and 
 without iniquity, just and right is he." 
 
 No tale in history is more affecting than that of his death at the very 
 moment when the great object he had kejjt in view, and for wdiich all his long 
 life he had striven, was on the eve of attainment. His qualities were of the 
 noblest kind, but not one of them was grander or more prominent than his utter 
 forgctfulness, or rather abnegation, of self. Through all his career, his whole soul 
 was Idled with zeal for God and devotion to the people whom God had given him 
 in charge ; and to his last hour, though his own hopes were quenched in dis- 
 appointment and humiliation, that zeal never cooled, that devotion never wavered. 
 Miriam was dead, Aaron was dead, and he had no relation and fellow-worker left 
 to climb the mountain's brow with him, and bid him farewell, as had been Aaron's 
 lot. On Pisgah's summit, alone with his God, he saw the land beyond Jordan's 
 stream, and there he died. The Almighty buried the corpse of his servant in a 
 ravine of the mountain, and for thirty days Israel's children wept and mourned 
 for their lost chief. 
 
 As we scan the undulating outline of the'great eastern wall of mountains, we 
 can see no peak that so overtops its fellows as to force us to invest it with 
 Pisgah's name and Pisgah's associations ; nor does tradition give us any assist- 
 ance. As yet the position of Pisgah is undetermined ; and as regards the grave of 
 Moses, it was probably made secret by the Almighty in order that the Hebrews, 
 so prone to idolatry, should not in after ages be tempted to adore the stern foe of 
 all false worship, and pay divine honours at the tomb of the great teacher who so 
 zealously inculcated the doctrine that there was but one true God. The Moslems 
 venerate a traditional tomb of Moses, but it is placed on one of the western 
 mountains on this side of Jordan. So sacred is the spot, that no unbeliever is 
 allowed to enter the rude mosque which covers it. 
 
 The mourning for Moses was ended, and the ark of the covenant is borne to 
 the brink of Jordan, while the host of Israel stands nearly a mile away from the 
 stream, ready to follow when it moves onwards. Jordan was in flood, full to 
 overflowing; but when the feet of the priests who bore the ark dipped in the 
 water's brim, the Almighty, to inaugurate Joshua's mission, magnified him in the 
 sight of all Israel, and cut off" the strong stream for many a mile above where the 
 ark stood, and from thence to the sea of the plain below left dry ground. The 
 ark was stationed in the midst of the dry channel till all the people had passed
 
 riSGAII AND GILGAL. I59 
 
 over. Oil the spot wlierc the priests stood in tlie middle of tlie river's l)ed, 
 Joshua set up twelve great stones, which long remained in memorial of the 
 miracle ; and from that spot in the bed of Jordan, also as a testimony to pos- 
 terity, twelve stones were taken and set up ou the dry land in the place where 
 Israel lodged that night after the passage. 
 
 The positions of the stones set up in the midst of Jordan, and those placed 
 upon dry land, are alike undetermined ; but though we cannot fix upon the exact 
 spots where the feet of the priests stood in the mid channel, or where the twelve 
 stones marked the central point of Israel's first resting jjlace in Canaan, yet we 
 may feel convinced that we have before us the scene of the miracle. The mighty 
 host " hasted and passed over •," many miles of the river were left dry to afford 
 them a passage, and with a broad front, in many different divisions, and at many 
 different points along the river's course to the eastward of Jericho, they crossed 
 the Jordan ; and the plain between Eria and the stream was " the place of their 
 encampment." At every point where we see Jordan's stream sweeping swiftly 
 and heavily past the miracle had been enacted ; the headlong career of the swollen 
 river had obeyed its Creator's word, and in a moment checked its flow ; and de- 
 tachments of the multitude had passed across dry-shod from the further bank and 
 climbed that on which we stand. The men of war of Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh 
 led the van of Israel's host, for this was the condition upon which they had re- 
 ceived the heritage they coveted in the land of promise. 
 
 God's law and ordinances had been delivered to Israel and fully explained, 
 and the great lawgiver had been taken from them. Now they were to win the 
 homes God had given them ; and their leader was a man of the sword, who at the 
 same time was filled with God's Spirit. Joshua was essentiall}^ a soldier, Init a 
 pious one ; and in his character this peculiarity has been remarked, " that he is 
 one of the few saints of Scripture, perhaps the only one, of whom no fault is re- 
 corded." This freedom from fault makes him appear less great than he really 
 was ; for " his character is overshadowed by the ver}' greatness of the events and 
 circumstances in which lie is placed. The events are greater than the man. 
 Plence, individually, he attracts less attention than an inferior man among events 
 of less importance. This is not a dishonour to him, but a glory, for it shows liow 
 accurately he measured, and how truly he used his right position." 
 
 Israel's first encampment was in Gilgal, and there the Lord rolled away the 
 rei)roach of Egypt off them. There the manna ceased to supply their hunger ; 
 there they got the old corn of the land ; there the " Captain of the hosts of the 
 Lord," with his sword drawn, met Joshua, who, with his strong warrior instinct, 
 " went unto him, and said unto him, Art thou for us, or for our adversaries?"
 
 160 PISGAH AND GILGAL. 
 
 but then, at a word, worshipped the heavenly Messenger, and loosed his shoes 
 from off his feet, for he was told that he stood on holy ground. There Israel 
 celebrated their first passover in Canaan. It is doubtful whether, when Israel 
 crossed Jordan, Gilgal was a city, or merel}' an open place U)r encampment. It 
 was about a mile from Jericho, and must have stood close to Eria, for it seems 
 probable that Jericho itself stood rather nearer the mountain which is the subject 
 of our illustration. 
 
 This naked and rugged peak is the traditional scene of our Lord's tempta- 
 tion by the devil. From the spot occupied by the small chapel which we see 
 crowning its summit, Satan is said to have shown Jesus all the kingdoms of the 
 world in a moment of time ; and the caves and cells in its precipices were 
 favourite abodes of hermits in the days when the anchorite life was held in 
 esteem. 
 
 Our view is taken from the neighbourhood of the fountain whose waters 
 Elisha healed, and which now bursts forth sweet and copious amid thickets 
 and caves about a quarter of a mile from the mountain's l)asc. The Jericho 
 of the prophets stood close to this fountain. The Jericho of the New 
 Testament is said by some writers to have been situated about a mile and 
 a half from it. Near the spring are mounds covered with loose stones and 
 other remains of former buildings. There are other ruins between it and 
 Eria, and considerable remains at the mouth of the Wady Kelt, which Dr. 
 Robinson considers to be those of the later Jericho ; and some think that 
 all these remains may have been included within the city and its suburbs. 
 Tlie fountain of Elisha fertilized the gardens of Jericho and Gilgal, and still 
 waters those of Eria, and also a tract of dense thorny thicket, part of which 
 is seen in our sketch. The ruins in the foreground arc not those of Jericho, but 
 are said to belong to sugar mills which w^ere used here at the time of the Cru- 
 sades, the sugar-cane being cultivated in the hot plain. Formerly, the ascent of 
 the Mountain of the Temptation was a work of great merit for the pilgrim, l)ut 
 few attempt it now. We read that "Jesus was led uj) of the Spirit into the wil- 
 derness to be tempted of the devil." It may be that it was among the crags of 
 the range of Marantana that he fasted forty days, and that there the tempter came 
 to him. We have no other indications as to the locality of our Saviour's absti- 
 nence ; lint the "Mountain of flic Temptation " may lie riglitly named.
 
 ( !'•■' ) 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 JEJIKillO AND 15ETI1EL. 
 
 At the time when Joshua prostrated himself before the Captain of the host of the 
 Lord, strong Jericho was effectively beleaguered l>y Israel, and all external com- 
 munication for its inmates was cut off. Now it was that on the threshold of their 
 future home the Lord of hosts was about to work a strange marvel, and to help 
 Israel with his mighty hand and strctchcd-out arm, almost visiWy interposed in 
 their cause, both b}' capturing the city they besi(;gcd, and ])y making the fear of 
 his people fall on the other chiefs and armies of the laud. (Joshua, chap, vi.) 
 
 Here, in after years, defiance of God's commands was severely punished, and 
 prophecy was literally fulfilled. Jericho was cursed, Jericho v,as not to be re- 
 built, and the penalty of disobedience was fixed. 
 
 During the lapse of ages the plain, the river, and the surrounding mountains 
 were the scene of many important occurrences ; but what more intimately concerns 
 us as Christians claims our notice. It was to the crags of the mountain, the 
 thickets of Jordan, the untilled places of the great plain, that multitudes from all 
 JudtTea and Jerusalem thronged to hear the voice of one who cried in the wilder- 
 ness, " Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight ;"' to hear the 
 rebuke, each one of his besetting sin, and the earnest exhortation to repentance ; 
 to hear that the axe was laid at the root of the tree of works and ceremonial 
 observances, and that a spiritual baptism, followed by a change of heart and life, 
 was the only pathway to salvation. 
 
 In the wilds of this district, John had passed his life of privation, aljstinence, 
 reflection, and praj'cr, had waxed strong in the spirit, and prepared himself for 
 his short career of important ofRce as the herald and forerunner of Christ. Then, 
 when the time was come in which the Holy One should enter on his mission, ho 
 came down to Jordan's bank; and John was blessed liy Ijoing permitted to baj)- 
 tize in Jordan's stream Him whose shoe's latchet he was not worthy to unloose, to 
 see the heaven open above his head, and the descent of the Spirit of God like a 
 dove, to hear the Almighty Father's voice asserting the Sonship of him who 
 had just gone up out of Jordan's stream, and to be the first to proclaim to man- 
 kind, " Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." N^ow,
 
 102 JERICHO AND BETHEL. 
 
 Christ began to increase, and John to decrease. Soon John's ministry ended ; and 
 ill llie fortress of Machferus, on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea, lie was im- 
 prisoned for daring to rcbnkc a monarch's lust, and martyred to assuage a 
 woman's revenge. 
 
 John did no miracle, but Jesus probal)ly wrought many in this region ; and 
 two instances are on record in which his power of healing was displayed. Both 
 were close to Jericho. On the first occasion, l)liud Bartiinajus sat Ijy the way- 
 tiidc begging, just outside the city, when the Saviour passed. AVith a strong 
 faith in the power of Jesus of Nazareth, the blind man, in spite of remonstrances, 
 loudly cried for help ; and when called, he cast away his garment, probaljly his 
 uiily worldly possession, and went to be the subject of a healing miracle. In the 
 other case, Christ worked by his grace upon man's soul, and by the siKlden con- 
 version of Zaccheus, and by his acceptance of the puljlicau's hospitality, showed 
 that his work on earth was to seek and save those that were lost. 
 
 Leaving Eria, Bethel is next to be noticed. There is no doubt that the 
 village and ruins of Bcitiii mark the situation of Bethel, one of the most ancient 
 sites in the world — the " house of God." Here Jacob, awaking out of the sleep 
 in whose visions he had seen the ladder set upon the earth with its top reaching to 
 heaven, the pathway of God's messengers to man, and had heard the renewal of 
 Jehovah's promises to his fathers, exclaimed, " Surely the Lord is in this place, 
 and I knew it not." " How dreadful is this place ! This is none other but the 
 house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." 
 
 The remains of Bethel are scattered over three or four acres, and consist 
 chiefly of foundations and half-standing walls of houses and other buildings. In 
 the fourth century, there was only a small village at Bethel, but afterwards it 
 must have increased and have had a considerable Christian population, for the 
 remains of churches still exist. One of them stands within the foundations of a 
 much larger and more ancient edifice. In our sketch are seen the two most 
 striking o1)jects upon the site ; the square tower, half ruined, and the vast cistern 
 in the volley below. The latter, a true relic of ancient Bethel, is three hundred 
 and fourteen feet long, and two hundred and seventeen feet broad. Its walls are 
 built of massive stones, and that at the southern end is entire : the others are 
 more or less broken down. It was partly filled by springs within its area, and 
 these still supplj^ the village. 
 
 From the rounded hill which forms the background of our view, Abraham 
 and Lot looked over the i)laiu of Jordan ; and on its swelling slopes their flocks 
 pastured when that strife arose Avhich caused their separation.
 
 
 W 
 
 
 M
 
 ( Km ) 
 
 xxxrr. 
 
 FROM JERICHO TO Sni<]CIIE:\I. 
 
 The Wady Kelt is a dreary, wild ravine, wliicli adbrds a passage tlirongli the 
 inouutaiiis towards Jerusalem. The heat is stifling, and in sueh a climate almost 
 any tropical plants might 1)C cultivated successfully. There is a superabundance 
 of heat and water; seed and skilled energy alone are wanted to make a paradise 
 once more of this suffocating plain. It would be necessary, to be sure, to have 
 an armed force always at hand to i>i'cvent the turbulent tribes from Ijeyoiid 
 Jordan gathering the fruits, reaping the grain, and sticking the flowers into their 
 dirty head-gear. In the bottom, of Wady Kelt is a torrent fringed with 
 oleanders; but its precipitous sides are scorched and naked. Some think that 
 this torrent course is " the brook Cherith that is before Jordan," where Elijah- 
 was fed by ravens. We think that it hardly fulfds the requirements of the 
 Scripture narrative ; but there seems to be no doubt that it is the valky of 
 Achor, on the northern boundary of Judah, where the execution of Achan took 
 place. 
 
 From hence proceeds the Ascent of Aduniniin, or of the red jjcojile, probalJy 
 so called from some tribe of ruddy or red-haired men in the neighbourhood. 
 Jerome says it was so called from the blood shed there by robbers who infested 
 the pass, as they still do ; and a traveller in the fifteenth century says that he 
 saw the ruins of a castle built for the succour of travellers in that sanguinary 
 place, and that the Germans still called the pass " the river of blood." The 
 "going up of Adummiu'' is just as dangerous now as wdien "a certain man 
 went down from Jerusalem to Jericho," " and fell among thieves;" and in 1820, 
 an Englishman, Sir Frederick Henniker, was stripped, wounded, and left for 
 dead by Arab robbers. In the i)rccipices of Wady Kelt are manj^ grottoes, 
 which seem inaccessible, but which were inhabited by hermits of old. One of 
 the ascetics who made his home here is said to have brought his body into 
 subjection so completely that he kept himself alive upon four raisins a day. 
 We are not told how long he lived after he restricted liimself to this quantity 
 of food. 
 
 After a succession of wild defdes and bare mountains, a fountain is reached
 
 106 - FROM JERlCnO TO SIIECIIEM. 
 
 a little below Bethany, which may ))e the water of En Shcmesh, mentioned in 
 Joshua. A spring near this is callctl the Fountain of the Apostles, and possibly 
 it is this. At any rate it is almost certain that at this ancient source both 
 our Saviour and his disciples often drank on their way to and from Jerusalem. 
 
 There is another road from Jericho leading directly up through a wild pass 
 to Bethel. By this defile it was that the Israelites penetrated into the interior, 
 taking the little city of Ai on their way. The site of Ai seems to have been 
 recently discovered to the eastward of Bethel, the ruins consisting of heaps 
 of large stones and some cisterns. Up this pass Elisha went on his way to 
 Bethel when little children mocked him. Both forest and bears have dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Birch in old times was Beeroth, a Gibeonite city, from whence the crafty 
 inhabitants sent an embassy to Joshua. The messengers were carefully equipped 
 in theatrical guise for the fallacious part they had to play : " They took old sacks 
 upon their asses, and wine bottles old and rent and bound up, and old shoes and 
 clouted upon their feet, and old garments upon them ;"' and their bread was stale 
 and mouldy. They required all their shrewdness, for the Israelites had some 
 suspicion ; but the matter was settled by the appeal to their clothing and pro- 
 visions. Joshua was deceived, and the people of Beeroth and the three other 
 Gibeonite towns saved their lives and properties ; for the league, enforced by 
 oath, into which Joshua had been entrapped, was not to be broken. The 
 Gibeonites were safe ; they were reduced to serfdom, but they were to be 
 protected from the heathen whose alliance they had deserted ; and when the five 
 kings of the south marched up here to smite the Gibeonites, Joshua fought and 
 won in their behalf his first great battle in Canaan. Over these hills that are 
 seen to the westward, the pagan host fled before Israel. There are many ancient 
 remains of different dates at Bireh. The chief feature is the ruiu of a fine old 
 Gothic church, built by the knights templars, who owned the village when 
 Jerusalem was in Christian hands. 
 
 About a mile and a half from Bireh is the Christian village of Ram Allah, 
 whose population is about nine hundred. It is " church property" — that is to 
 say, it belongs to the great mosque at Jerusalem, and the people pay seven 
 hundred bushels of grain annually to the support of the Haram. Bireh is the 
 first camping place for caravans going northward from Jerusalem ; and tradition 
 tells us that this was the place where Joseph and Mary, returning to Nazareth 
 from the feast of the passover at Jerusalem, missed their Divine son, who was 
 then twelve years old. It seems not unlikely that in this case monastic tradition 
 may be right.
 
 1^/ iv I •
 
 FROM JERICHO TO SIIECIIEM. 109 
 
 Before reacliiiig Bireli, some faiiions places are passed — Nol) and Giheoii, 
 Gibeah and Ramali of Benjamin. Among the eastern liills were Aiiathoth Geba 
 of Benjaniin and Michraash, aiul on tlie west were Upper and T^owcr I'etldioron, 
 Over this tract the sun had stood still at Joshua's coininand, that Israel might 
 make the most of their lirst pitched battle ; and here two other great Jewish 
 victories were won by Judas Maccabeus, and afterwards l)y the revolted Jews 
 over the Romans. 
 
 Proceeding northwards, Bethel is reached. How familiar the name of 
 Bethel is! On the hill to the east the first altar to the living God that Canaan's 
 land saw was raised Ijy Abraham as he passed through it for the first time ; 
 from thence he surveyed the land, and received Jehovah's iiromise that it should 
 be his ; and on that altar he worshipped on his return from Egypt. As Jacob 
 slept at Bethel, under the Syrian stars, with his head upon a stone, lie saw the 
 wondrous vision, and set up that stone on the morrow as a monument to God's 
 goodness. There he afterwards built an altar to Jehovah ; and there, we arc told, 
 Deborah, the nurse of Rebecca, died, and was buried beneath an oak— the " Oak 
 of Tears." Before all these events, there was a town called Luz in this place, so 
 that it dates from a very early time. The stone that had served Jacob for a 
 pillow was, according to Jewish tradition, taken to the second Temple and used as 
 a pedestal for the ark. Hither came the people to ask counsel from the Almighty 
 in seasons of disorganization and perplexity. 
 
 Bethel properly belonged to Benjamin, but the strong descendants of Joseph 
 won it from the Canaanite and kept it. There is a strange mingling of true 
 worship with idolatry in its subsequent history. When Israel separated from 
 Judah and Benjamin, Bethel was important as a frontier fortress and sacred as a 
 sanctuary ; and here Jeroboam set up one of the golden calves to turn the heart 
 of Israel's tribes from Jehovah's worship, and their steps from Jehovah's shrine 
 at Jerusalem. Here took place the awful scene when the altar was rent, the 
 ashes poured out, the king's hand withered, and the prophecy spoken, and after- 
 wards fulfilled, of the defilement of the place dedicated to a false worship. Royal 
 palaces and splendid shrines were also built here. Then came the Assyrian ; the 
 name of God was no longer woi'shippcd, and lions slew the people of the land, 
 until a priest in Bethel taught thena " how they should fear the Lord." 
 Idolatrous altar, fane, and grove W'ere utterly destroyed by Josiah. For their 
 desecration, the tombs were rifled of their dead, one alone being spared. In one 
 of these rock-hewn tombs which we still see in the ravines of the eastern moun- 
 tain, lay the bones of the old prophet who dwelt in Bethel side by side with those 
 of the brother he deceived and tempted from the right path to his destruction.
 
 170 FROM JERICHO TO SHECHEM. 
 
 Some remarkable inscription must have been placed upon it, Ibr it caught king 
 Josiali's eye ; lie was reminded of the prophecy which he was in the act of ful- 
 filling, and he left the bones of the two prophets in peace. 
 
 Leaving Bethel and riding through winding valleys, partly cultivated, and 
 some pretty spots luxuriant with fruit-trees and gushing with springs, the village 
 of Ain Yebrud is reached, beautifully situated on a hill with terraced flanks, 
 rising from wooded glens, and having a commanding view. When Stephens was 
 in Syria, he slept here, and found a venerable old man, who had been sheikh of 
 the village, and had resigned ofitice in consequence of the change of affairs caused 
 by Mehemet All's occupation of the country. The old man had consoled himself 
 for his loss of dignity by taking a pretty young wife. During his previous 
 life he had been too poor to afford more than one partner, but lately his property 
 had increased, and he felt that he might indulge in the luxury of a second 
 without imprudence. The helpmate of many years was consequently thrown into 
 the background, whilst the best place in his house, and all his affections, were 
 devoted to the juvenile bride. 
 
 " The Robber's Fountain," next following in a pretty solitary glen of evil 
 repute. Then we look over the rich plain of El j\Iukhua, and then descend to 
 its verge, and ride along the lower slopes of the western hills, till we come to the 
 mouth of a narrow valley running down from the westward between two ranges 
 of high hills. Turning up the glen, and in half an hour the fruit-tree groves 
 outside the walls of Nablous are i-eached. The prettj^ spots, and all around is 
 beautiful. There are plots of grass, and fine old trees, and rills of water, and 
 lofty mountains furrowed by ravines and divided by a narrow strip of plain. 
 Then, almost at the extremity of the vale, and completely embosomed in groves 
 of fruit-trees — olive and orange, fig and vine, with many others— stands the fair 
 city, " The Place of Siohem," '^Sbechem," " Sychar," " Neapolis," "Nablous," 
 or Nabulus. Here and there a minaret, now and then a palm, rises above the 
 flat roofs and low domes of the white town, and the orchards and gardens, sup- 
 ported on many a terrace, climb the mountain on whose lower slopes the city 
 stands. It is difficult to overrate the loveliness of the situation of Nablous ; and 
 in our estimation most travellers have hardly done it justice. The range on 
 which it is l»uilt is that of Mount Gerizim, and our view is taken from the lower 
 declivities of Mount Ebal.
 
 ( 171 ) 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF BLESSING. 
 
 On the route from Bethel to Shechcm the ancient Shiloh must have stood some- 
 what out of the road to the eastward. The name Seilun is given ))y the Arabs as 
 belonging to a hill covered with ruins, but they do not answer to the description 
 of those of Shiloh, and there is no marked feature in any of the rounded hills, 
 with their scattered rocks and stones, which often are scarcely to be distinguished 
 from ruins, to serve as a guide from a distance to the hill on which Shiloh 
 stood. 
 
 There is very little douljt about the authenticity of the site, for the position 
 of Shiloh is fixed with extreme precision in Scripture, the place where the 
 tabernacle of the Lord was first set up in Canaan. "Tlie children of Israel 
 assembled together at Shiloh," to receive the allotment of land for seven of their 
 tribes on this side of Jordan. In Shiloh, Hannah made her vow, dedicating the 
 j^et unborn Samuel to God ; there Hophni and Phinehas wrought evil, because 
 " they knew not the Lord ;" there Samuel ministered and communed with the 
 Abnighty ; and at the gate of Shiloh, old Eli fell down and died when he heard 
 that the ark of God was taken by the Philistines. Shiloh was destroyed at an 
 early period, and Jeremiah says : " But go ye now unto my place, which was at 
 Shiloh, where I set my name at the first, and see what I did to it for the wicked- 
 ness of my people Israel." 
 
 Shechem, the "city of Samaria which is called Sychar," was founded long 
 before Shiloh, and was as old as Bethel or Hebron ; l)ut, unlike them, its interest 
 for us does not terminate with the Old Testament records, for one of the most 
 remarkable and touching incidents related respecting our Saviour haj^pened 
 here. 
 
 "When old Israel lay on his death-bed in Egypt, and spoke his last words of 
 blessing to his sons and grandsons, he wittingly placed his right hand on Ephraim's 
 head, who was Joseph's younger son, and gave him the more splendid heritage in 
 his i)rophetic benediction. God made the children of Joseph a great people before 
 they entered Canaan ; and to Ephraini was given a tract of land, the very pride of 
 Canaan, before the other tribes received their allotment on this side Jordan. Judah
 
 172 THE MOUNTAIN OF BLESSING. 
 
 alone had got liis territory, the wild south country; and when the general division 
 took place in Shiloh, it was with Ihe proviso that " Judali shall abide in their coast 
 on the south, and the house of Joseph shall abide in their coasts on the north." 
 To the thousands of Manasseh, and the tens of thousands of Ephraini, Moses had 
 promised the precious things of heaven, the dew, and the precious fruits brought 
 forth by the sun, the precions tilings put forth by the moon, the chief things of 
 the ancient mountains, the precious things of the lasting hills, the precious things 
 of the earth, and tlie fulness thereof; and round about Mount Ephraini now are 
 the still-cndiiring evidences of how well Ephraim had fared. 
 
 The narrow valley, the place of Sichem, and the flat plain at its mouth, the 
 plain of IMoreh, where, as Abraham was on his way to his native land, he first 
 pitched his tent for sojourning in Canaan, where the Lord appeared to liim, and 
 where he built an altar nuto the Lord, was the jewel of Ephraim's inheritance. 
 Here the fig, the vine, and the olive still thrive ; of oil there is plenty, and if 
 there is but little wine, it is because the Moslem possesses the land. The oil of 
 Nablous is considered the best in Syria. 
 
 AVe read in the book of Kings that when the king of Assyria had carried 
 the children of Israel away captive, he " brought men from Babylon, and from 
 C'uthah, and from Ava, and from Hamath, and from Sepharvaim, and placed them 
 in the cities of Samaria, instead of the children of Israel." The Samaritans, there- 
 fore, were strangers to the blood and religion of the Hebrews. The Assyrian 
 monarch procured a Jewish priest who was established at Bethel to teach the 
 heathens " the manner of the god of the land." In spite of this instruction, and 
 though " they feared the Lord," yet they served their own gods." They 
 adopted the Pentateuch, claimed to be co-religionists with Judah and Benjamin, 
 and when the second temple was begun, applied for permission to assist in build- 
 ing it; but their request was refused and their claim disallowed, though they had 
 intermingled with the few Ephraimites who had not been carried into captivity. 
 Then they strove to hinder the work, and induced Artaxerxes to stop it during 
 his reign. 
 
 Nehemiah " chased fi'om him " a grandson of the high priest Eliashib, 
 because he had married a strange wife, the daughter of the Persian satrap, 
 Sauballat; and then it seems that the Samaritans got permission to build a 
 rival temple npon ]\Iount Grcrizini, which had doubtless been one of the high 
 places where they had worshipped their false gods. jMany Jews who would not 
 submit to the rigid interpretation of the ceremonial law, and the strict rule of 
 Ezra and Nehemiah, threw in their lot with the Samaritans, who were regarded 
 by the Jews with intense hatred. Shechem now became their spiritual capital;
 
 llili, 
 
 llllll 
 
 itfriiif 
 
 ! 'WW'
 
 THE MOUNTAIN OF BLESSING. 175 
 
 and when Antiochus Epipliancs threatened with death all who took j)art in the 
 rites of the Jewish religion, the Samaritans repudiated their connexion with it 
 and the Jews, and claimed to be descendants of the Sidonian worshippers of IJual. 
 John Hyrcanns destroyed their temple on Gerizim, B.C. 120. Samaritan worsliip 
 still continued to be performed there, but there is no record of the temple having 
 ever been rebuilt. 
 
 The "Mountain of Blessing" is ascended by a steep, rough, rocky path from 
 near the entrance of the valley. The summit of the range forms a long flattish 
 |)latform, broken by some undulations, and from it the sides of the mountain fall 
 abruptly. There are extensive remains of various kinds here, among which are 
 what seem to be the ruins of a large ancient village ; but it is on the eastern brow 
 overhanging the plain that the most striking objects are to be seen. Here is llie 
 subject of our illustration ; a smooth, bare surface of rock sloping down towards a 
 hole leading into a natural cavern. This is the shrine of the Samaritans, pro- 
 foundly venerated by them. They take off their shoes when they approach it, 
 and turn tow^ards it when they pray, as the Moslems do to the Kiblah. It is 
 their holy of holies: on this rock they say that Abraham sacrificed the I'ani 
 instead of his son, and that the oaks or terebinths of Moreh were in reality those 
 of Moriah, and that this was the scene of the meeting of Abraham and Melchi- 
 zcdek. It seems almost certain that this was the site of the Samaritan Temple, 
 and that the Holy of Holies stood on this smooth rock. The cave received the 
 blood which flowed down the rock from the altar of sacrifice. Here, say the 
 Samaritans, Jacob had his angelic vision ; this is the real " house of God," 
 Bethel ; and they call the ruined village, Luz. Here the ark was placed, and 
 the tabernacle set up. There arc traces of old walls and massive stones around 
 this rock, which probably may have belonged to the Samaritan Temple ; and they 
 most likely enclosed this peculiar rock-slope, in rivalry of the sacred rock 
 belonging to the Temple at Jerusalem. 
 
 From the sloping rock the ground rises to a rockj^ knoll, on which stands a 
 vast ruinous structure of hewn stones, which seems to have been a strong fortress. 
 In some places the walls are nine feet thick, and the building, which consists of 
 two adjacent parts, is about four hundred feet from north to south, and two 
 hundred and fifty feet from east to west. At the four corners of the southern 
 portion are square towers, and there is another in the middle of the eastern side. 
 In the northern part is the Moslem tomb, or Wely, seen in our sketch, above 
 the ruins of the fortress, within whose circuit it is built ; and there are deep 
 cisterns and w^ells among the ruins. This white tomb is seen at a great distance, 
 and serves to mark the Mount of Blessing unmistakably from afar.
 
 176 THE MOUNTAIN OF BLESSING. 
 
 Ill the Ycai- 487 the Samaritans rose against the Christians, killed iiuiiiy (>[' 
 them, and niaimed the bishop. As a penalty lor these atrocities, they were driven 
 from Mount Geriziiii, and a church was built there in honour of the Virgin Mary. 
 The infuriated Samaritans constantly attacked this building, and the Emperor 
 Justinian surrounded it by a strong fortress to protect it from their assaults. 
 There is every reason to believe that the great ruin we have just described is 
 that of Justinian's fortress. Moses had commanded the Ileljrews to set up great 
 stones, with the law inscribed upon them, on Mount Ebal, and to build there an 
 altar to the Lord God of Israel, and offer burnt offerings thereon. As soon as Ai 
 was taken, Joshua did all that Moses had commanded. The Samaritans, how- 
 ever, will have it that it was upon Gerizim that Joshua worshipped God. 
 
 Beyond the castle is a small space of level ground, where tlie Samaritans 
 encamp at the Feast of the Passover. Here, in a small area, surrounded by 
 stones, is a trough, about four feet long, in which the bones and remains of the 
 paschal lamb are burned, according to the command of the Jewish law, as are the 
 handkerchiefs on which those who eat wipe their fingers when the repast is over. 
 Near this is a circular pit, three feet in diameter, and about nine feet deep, in 
 which the lambs arc roasted, or rather baked. This pit is heated b}^ burning 
 wood ill it, and then the lambs are suspended to a stick laid across the mouth, 
 and so arranged that no part touches the sides or bottom. The whole Samaritan 
 community, men, Avoinen, and children, strictly observe the ceremonial enjoined 
 by the law, and cat the flesh "in haste with their loins girded, their shoes on 
 their feet, and staves in their hands." Nothing will induce them to allow any 
 stranger to their faith to taste the paschal lambs ; and the Turkish governor at 
 one time, the Arabs at another, have extorted monej' from the sect when as- 
 sembled for the Passover, to purchase immunity from a forcible profanation of 
 the sacred food. At length they became so rapacious that for years the sect was 
 compelled to celebrate the feast in their own houses in Nablous. 
 
 The view from the top of the mountain is magnificent, and there is not, 
 perhaps, to be seen in Palestine any cultivation so extensive as that of the broad 
 lilain. From the western mountains to the eastern hills which bound it, is one 
 unbroken spread of tillage, without a fence or division. Along the spurs of the 
 hills a wood of olives marks the site of some village ; and one of the nearest of 
 these, still called Salini, was the ancient Shaleni, before w^hich Jacob encamped 
 when he bought " a parcel of a field '" for an hundred pieces of money. On the 
 brow of the mountain is a spot called "The Church of Adam/' where Mokada, a 
 daughter of Adam and Eve, is reiiorted by tradition to have been born.
 
 ( l'7 ; 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 SYCHAR TO SAMARIA. 
 
 The town of Nablous is full of picturesque scenes, but the hostility of the people 
 prevents sketcliing. The Moslems of this city are noted for their lawlessness and 
 ianaticisni, and have always been accustomed to abuse and maltreat all those 
 from whose religious tenets they dissent. Christians and Jews are especially 
 obnoxious to them : they are usually more tolerant to the Samaritans. 
 
 The small community of Samaritans which still exists in ancient Shcchcm at 
 the foot of their holy mountain is the sole remnant of the sect. In the third and 
 subsequent centuries they were scattered throughout the East in great numl)ers, 
 and at the close of the fifth century they even had a synagogue at Rome, and 
 within the last two centuries they were to be found in Egypt, in Damascus, 
 Gaza, and elsewhere; but now thej' are extinct everywhere, except at Nablous, 
 where they may number altogether about one hundred and lifty souls. They 
 have a marked physiognomy differing much from the Jewish cast of countenance ; 
 their noses are long and straightish, complexions rather fair, lips thin, and thej^ 
 often have brown hair. They usually wear red turljans. Tliey accept the 
 Pentateuch as their sole guide in religious matters, and possess a very ancient 
 manuscript copy, which they say was written b}^ Abishua, the son of Pliinehas, 
 grandson of Aaron, and is consequently aljout three thousand three hundred 
 3'ears old. Some say that the real roll is never shown, except to members of 
 the sect. 
 
 The Samaritans have tampered with the decalogue much in the same way as 
 the Romanists have, in order to adapt God's word to meet their own views. 
 The Romanist, to get rid of one commandment, without lessening the number of 
 ten, splits one commandment into two ; the Samaritan unites the firet and second 
 into one, and adds a tenth, which is, " Thou shalt worship the Lord tli}' God on 
 Mount Gerizim." 
 
 Shechem was built in the reign of Vespasian, and then received the name 
 of Ncapolis, the " New City," and hence its present Arabic appellation, Nablous. 
 
 N
 
 178 SYCnAR TO SAMARIA. 
 
 The only antiquities are broken columns and sarcophagi, which are used as water 
 troughs. There is a handsome entrance to the chief moscjue, which is said to 
 have been formerly a church of the Crusaders, There arc considerable soap 
 works in the town ; and, on the whole, Nablous has a thriving appearance, though 
 there are always a number of beggars about the gates. 
 
 Riding down the valley to its entrance where a low spur of Gerizim runs 
 out towards the great plain, we come at the point of this spur to a small mound 
 over which some inconsiderable ruins were scattered. Great as is the interest 
 which invests Gerizim, and famous as beauteous Shechem has been for near four 
 thousand years, the glory of both city and mountain grows dim when viewed 
 with the associations that dignify the sacred incidents which hallow the insig- 
 nificant mound at Gerizim's roots. These shapeless ruins and a few fragments of 
 granite columns scattered round, are all the landmarks we have, but they arc 
 undoubted, to prove that we are standing in the " parcel of a field," where 
 Jacob had spread his tent, and which he purchased of the Shechemites. This is 
 the parcel of ground which Jacob gave to his sou Joseph, and close by the early 
 altar called El-elohe-Israel must have been raised. In this " field," Joseph 
 sent by Jacob to visit his brethren who were feeding their flocks in Shechem, 
 was wandering in quest of them : here he met a man who told him where they 
 were, and hence he went to meet the evil treatment at their hands, by which 
 God's providence so marvellously worked out his good purposes, and which 
 ultimately caused their preservation and advancement. Beneath these old stones 
 is the well which Jacob dug; and on its brink sat Jesus, the way-worn, wearied, 
 thirsting traveller, in his lowly humanity, so soon to display his Divine omni- 
 science to convince the ignorant, unbelieving Samaritans that he was in very 
 truth the Christ. There were souls to be saved among the despised Samaritans; 
 and therefore Jesus, coming from Judea, " must needs go through Samaria." 
 Hither to the Saviour came Samaria's daughter ; and his words, "Give me to 
 di'ink," which showed that in his breast there lurked no Jewish scorn or pre- 
 judice, disarmed hostility in hers, and won her to converse and finally to believe. 
 Then down the valley from Shechem came the wondering disciples with the 
 food just purchased, which the zeal to finish his Tather's work prevented the 
 Saviour from tasting ; and as sitting here he then looked up that valley and saw 
 the citizens of Shechem pouring forth to meet him, he exclaimed, " Say not ye, 
 There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest ? Behold, I say unto you, 
 Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields ; for the}' are white alread}^ to harvest." 
 And now it was that the first fruits of those whom the Jews considered as 
 strangers were gathered into the garner, soon to be followed by the great harvest
 
 O
 
 SYCIIAll TO SAMARTA. 181 
 
 of tlie Cciitile world. Many of the Samaritans Itclievcd at once; many more 
 when they heard hira preach liis gosjiel dnrino,- his two days' stay at Sycliai'. 
 
 It is ■ necessary to clamber down into a vault to look into liic well. By 
 throwing down stones it is pwceivcd that " the well is deep," and that it is 
 generally dry. It has been thoroughly examined ; and a Hebrew Bible acci- 
 dentally droi)ped into it by one traveller as he leaned over its margin to l(joi< 
 down, was recovered several years after by another who lowered one of his 
 native coini)anions to the bottom by roi)es. The well is cut in the solid rock, is 
 nine feet in diameter and seventy-five feet deep at present, and sometimes has a 
 few feet of water in it. Of late the vault has fallen in and stojtped up the well's 
 month. Christian and Moslem, Jew and Samaritan, all agree in believing that 
 this is really " Jacob's Well ;" and its position so completely harmoiii/es with 
 the narratives of both the Old and New Testament that there can be no doubt 
 on the matter. Jerome says that a church had been built over it ; and the ruins 
 round the well are those of this church, which was destroyed during the Crusades. 
 The well is on the direct road to Sycliar ; and here in the sultry noontide it was 
 natural that a tired wayfarer would rest and drink. Here our Saviour stopped 
 after travelling up the vale where, of yore, all Israel had stood to hear the words 
 of blessing and of cursing from the mountain ridges on either hand. The land- 
 scape has changed l)ut little since then ; and though the palaces of Sychar are 
 gone and have left no successors, yet from a little distance, Nablous, embosomed 
 in groves, may not differ much in general appearance from the older citJ^ 
 
 About two hundred yards from Jacob's well, and just in the middle of the 
 valley's entrance, we come to a small oj^en court inclosed by a high whitewashed 
 wall. This in an inner area, also open to the sky, contains a tomb built of 
 masonry, with a short pillar at each end. This, according to tradition, is 
 " Joseph's tomb," and though there is no ancient monument to mark the spot, 
 yet it is most probable that tradition has really preserved a recollection of the 
 true spot where the patriarch was buried. All we know for certain is, that 
 Joseph took an oath of the children of Israel that they would carry uj) his bones 
 from Egypt. " And the bones of Joseph, which the cliildren of Israel brought 
 up out of Egypt, buried they in Shechem, in a parcel of ground whi(^h Jacolj 
 bought of the sons of Hamor the father of Shechem," and therefore Joseph's 
 grave must be in the immediate vicinity. The pillars at the head and foot of 
 Joseph's tomb are reported to mark the sepulchres of his sons Ephraim and 
 Manasseh. 
 
 In this part of the country, especially, the " coat of many colours" con- 
 stantly forms a part of the native boy's dress. Men and women too, often wear
 
 182 SYCHAR TO SAMAEIA. 
 
 it ; and tliis gaily coloured apparel adds iimcli to the i)ieturesque effect of all the 
 scenes in wliicli figures form a proraiuent feature. 
 
 From Nablous the ride is along a rich vallej', down which a strong stream 
 ripples and sparkles. The fruit trees here grow to great size, and close by a 
 fountain is a group of extraordinary fig-trees, in girth and spread of branches 
 like forest trees. In about two hours we come in sight of the ancient capital of 
 Israel ; and in the days of its splendour, when the high and almost isolated mount 
 it crowned was glorious with temples and palaces and vast colonnades, and girt 
 with massive walls and lofty towers, Samaria must have seemed a grand and 
 regal city. Its site is very commanding, but there are no imposing relics of the 
 days of its magnificence when Herod was king. One striking- ruin, ])eautifully 
 placed on the l)rink of the boldest declivity that falls down from the platform on 
 the hill's summit, tells of Christian rule here. This is the church of St. John, 
 one of the most picturesque ruins in Palestine, and the one characteristic feature 
 of Sebaste or Sebustieh, by which name the city is now called. It is the first 
 object which catches the eye from the top of the ridge from which we first see 
 the city ; and when we descend into the valley below, it towers above on the 
 brow of the mountain, whose base is hidden l^y groves of large and ancient 
 olives. A small aqueduct crossed the road, and it is from a point just passing 
 beneath it the view engraved in our present chapter is taken. We then climb 
 the ascent to the wretched Arab village which desecrates Samaria's site. 
 
 The chnrch of St. John the Baptist is said to have been erected by the 
 Empress Helena over the grave of the martyr, but the church we see cannot 
 have been older than the Crusades. The roof is gone, but a considerable portion 
 of the walls remains entire, and the semicircular eastern end is almost perfect. 
 The style of architecture is rich but rather barbarous. The interior has been 
 partly converted into an open mosque with a tomb or wely of the " prophet 
 John the son of Zaeharias," who is greatly venerated by Mohammedans. This 
 wely covers a chamber excavated in the rock, to which there is a descent by 
 twenty-one steps. The tradition which places John the Baptist's tomb here is 
 as old as Jerome, but since that epoch, the saint's place of interment and that of 
 his imprisonment and execution have all been jumbled up together; and from 
 about the seventh century to the present time, the imprisonment, death, and 
 burial of the saint have all been reputed to have occurred at Sebaste, which we 
 know is an error. Built into a modern wall inside are some marble tablets with 
 sculptured crosses of the Unights of St. John, Ijroken and mutilated by the Arabs; 
 and it seems likely that the church was built l)y that order in honour of their 
 patron saint.
 
 ( 1«'5 ) 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 FROM SAMARIA TO EN-GANNIM. 
 
 Skbastiyeh, the Arab narae of the village which clusters round tlic ruined 
 church of the Baptist, preserves the ancient appellation of the city " Seljaste," 
 the Greek synonym given to Samaria by Herod, in honour of liis patron 
 Augustus. 
 
 There arc no antique remains of importance in the village, and from the 
 hill, which is cultivated throughout, nearly all the hewn stones and other ruins 
 have been gradually carried off out of the husbandman's way ; some piled up in 
 the fields, and others used in making the terraces along the hill-side, or thrown 
 into the valley below. The shafts of columns still standing in long rows arc the 
 only extant evidences of the superb structures with which Ilerod beautified the 
 city he had received from Augustus as a gift. On the summit of the mount 
 there is an open area, where stood the temple Herod raised in honour of 
 Augustus. Here fifteen headless columns are standing, Ijut these possibly may 
 have formed part of a monastery and church, which are said to have once 
 stood here. 
 
 All the columns at Sebaste are of limestone, and only one capital has been 
 discovered after a long search by an English traveller, in the Avail of a terrace. 
 The columns sprout up out of corn-fields and gardens and amidst the vines ; and 
 in and out among them the Arab fellah drives his rude plough. There is 
 nothing picturesque in their appearance, and they have but a monumental 
 interest. They are the tombstones of Samaria's magnificent dead and gone. 
 The piled-up stones among the olives in the vale below, the naked uncomely 
 shafts upon the heights above, tell us as plainly as sculptured epitaphs could do, 
 of Samaria and her fate. Samaria was the transgression of Jacob, and God had 
 spoken in prophecy, "Samaria shall become desolate; for she hath rebelled 
 against her God." " Therefore I will make Samaria as an heap of the field, 
 and as plantings of a vineyard: and I will pour down the stones thereof into the 
 valley, and I will discover the foundations thereof." 
 
 Samaria was not an ancient city; and though it rose to great splendour, j-et 
 in proportion to its importance its history shows us fewer features of interest
 
 184 FROM SAMARIA TO EN-GANNIM. 
 
 than tluit of the otlier leading cities of Palestine. Its site was the private estate 
 of an Israelite, long after the separation of the kingdoms of Judah and Israel. 
 Then " in tlie thirty and first year of Asa king of Judah, began Omri to reign 
 over Israel, twelve years ; six years reigned he in Tirzali. And he bought the 
 hill Samaria of Shemer for two talents of silver, and built on the hill, and 
 called the name of the city which he built after the name of Shemer, owner of 
 the hill, Samaria." His son, Ahab, built a temple to Raal here, and in his reign 
 the city was besieged by Benhada<l, tlie Syrian, at the head of a vast host; but 
 whilst the Syrian leader and " the thirty and two kings that helped liim" were 
 drinking themselves drunk in their pavilions, a small band of two hundred and 
 thirty-two young men went out of the gates of Samsjria, in obedience to the 
 W(jrd of one of God's prophets, and utterly routed the beleaguering army. 
 
 To Samaria xihab was brought in his chariot dead ; and at the pool there, 
 in accordance with Elijah's prophecy, dogs licked up tlie monarch's Ijlood. 
 Again, Benhadad besieged the city for the long .space of three years, and a 
 fearful famine within the walls was the result ; and whilst silver was valueless in 
 comparison with even the most loathsome* food capable of sustaining life, we are 
 told of the horrible story of the two Samaritan mothers and of their compact to 
 kill and eat their infants in turn. No wonder that in the face of such an awful 
 visitation, and when appealed to by one mother to make the other perform her 
 part of the frightful agreement, even the wicked Jehoram was found to have pri- 
 vately humbled himself before God ; and when he rent his clothes in horror at 
 what he heard, it was observed that beneath his royal robes he wore the sackcloth 
 of humiliation upon his flesh. Then, for the third time, the Syrian host was 
 discomfited by a direct miracle before the city, and four lepers, who were at the 
 gate, found the besieging camp deserted, and its spoils undefended; and in 
 Samaria's gate the lord, who scoffed at Elisha's prophecy of sudden plenty, met 
 the fate the prophet pronounced upon his incredulity, and Avas trodden to death 
 by the starving multitude as they rushed forth upon the Syrian prey. In the 
 year n. c. 720, the Assyriar.s took the city and colonized it. In later times, 
 Philip preached at Samaria wnth success, and wrought miracles, uumljering 
 amongst his nominal converts, Simon the sorcerer; and to Samaria Peter and 
 John were sent to lay hands upon the newl}^ made Christians that they might 
 receive the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Leaving the city of Omri and of Herod, descending into the deep valley 
 which surrounds it, and climbing a steep rocky hill, in about three quarters of 
 an hoHr the prettily situated village of Burka is reached. Fine groves of old 
 olive trees cover the hill-sides; and as we scramble up a narrow rocky jiath to
 
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 FEOM SAMARIA TO EN-GANNIM. 187 
 
 the siimmit of a Iiigli ridge beyond, we have a succession of beautiful and in- 
 teresting views. Passing near some picturesque villages, we descend to a fertile 
 plain almost circular, and about three or four miles across. This is " the 
 drowning meadow," so called because it forms a basin from which there is no 
 outlet for the streams that fall into it in winter. Their waters consequently 
 collect and form a shallow lake, and the moisture it retains even in summer 
 causes the plain to yield abundant crops. The low hills which surround it rise 
 abruptl}^ from its level expanse. They arc covered with brushwood ; and on the 
 top of the boldest of them stands the ruined fortress of Sanfir, the stronghold of a 
 family who ruled the neighbouring country with the strong hand in spite f>f 
 sultan or pacha. They were a brave, unscrupulous set, and many an unsuccessful 
 attempt was made to subject or suppress them, l)ut they held their hill-fort in 
 spite of several sieges of some months' duration. 
 
 About the close of the last century, Djezzar Pacha, of Acre, a monster of 
 wickedness and cruelty, besieged Sanur for two months, and had he captured it 
 would probably have massacred all its inhabitants, and appropriated their pos- 
 sessions ; but he was repulsed. In 1830, the sheikh of Sanur openly rebelled 
 against Abdallah Pacha, who then governed Syria, and was besieged in con- 
 sequence. The famous chief of the Lebanon, the emir Beshir, was summoned 
 with his mountaineers to assist in the attack, and after a siege of four months 
 the walls were breached and the castle carried by assault. Since then the 
 dispersed members of the family and their retainers have collected among the 
 ruins of their ancient stronghold, and gradually rebuilt its walls, in the hope that 
 some day or other they may be able to resume their old state of predatory inde- 
 pendence and defy the Turk and the law. 
 
 From the top of the ridge above " the drowning meadow " wc look down 
 upon another little plain, and on its southern side see a green mound, which 
 still bears the name of Dothan. There seems to be no doubt that this is the 
 fertile vale in which Joseph's brethren were feeding their flocks when he sought 
 them at Shechem ; and when he followed them hither and found them, it was 
 here that they first cast him into some empty cistern, and afterwards drew him 
 out and sold him to the Ishraaelite merchants, whose caravan of spiccry, and 
 balm, and myrrh passed by on its way from Gilead to Egypt. 
 
 In the town upon that little hill Elisha dwelt, when the Syrians were at war 
 with Israel ; and knowing beforehand by inspiration all the plans of the Syrian 
 commander, divulged them to Israel's king, Avho acted upon this information, and 
 " saved himself there not once nor twice." " The heart of the king of Syria was 
 sore troubled for this thing," and he suspected treachery among his own people ; 
 but one of them telling him of Elisha's prophetic power, he sent spies to find out
 
 188 FKOM SAMAETA TO EN-GANNIM. 
 
 the residence of the prophet. " And it was told him, saying, Behold be is in 
 Dotlian," and he laid his plans for the prophet's capture. Then, when Elisha s 
 servant rose earlj in the morning, he saw the city surrounded by a Syrian liost, 
 with horses and chariots, and cried out, " Alas, my master ! how shall we do ?" 
 The answer was, " Fear not; for they that be with us are more than they that 
 be with them." The young man's eyes were opened, and then he saw the host 
 of the Lord, the chariots and horses of fire, circling round the Lord's chosen 
 servant for his protection. Then another strange miracle was wrought in that 
 green plain ; for the Syrian leadei's and soldiery, all struck with Ijlindness, were 
 led by Elisha to Samaria, and when their sight was restored to them, found 
 themselves altogether in the power of Israel's king. " My father, shall I smite 
 them ? shall I smite thera ?" cried out the monarch ; 1)ut Elisha's prisoners 
 were not to be thus treated, and the prophet answered, " AVouldst thou smite 
 those whom thou hast taken captive with thy sword and with thy bow ? Set 
 bread and water before them, that they may eat and drink, and go to their 
 master." The king obeyed, " prepared great provision for them," and then sent 
 them away miharmed. 
 
 From the broad shoulder of the mountain from which we look upon Dothan, 
 we descend to the village of Kubatiyeh, a fine prosperous village, inhabited ]jy a 
 set of notorious rascals, who have long been in the habit of robbing every solitary 
 traveller they Ihll in with ; nor are small caravans safe unless they are well 
 armed and show a bold face. 
 
 We are now in the territory of Manasseh ; and in these deep valleys leading 
 down from the central mountain range of Ephraim to the great plain of Esdraelon, 
 the horns of Joseph, the ten thousands of Ephraim and the thousands of Manasseh, 
 pushed the lieojile who came in armed array against the inheritance of him that 
 was separated from his brethren. 
 
 Jenin represents the ancient En-gannim, " the fountain of gardens ;" and to 
 this day the name is quite appropriate. Placed on a slightly rising ground, on 
 the very border of the great plain, and surrounded by a belt of gardens well 
 watered, and very productive, it speaks aloud of beauty and of plenty. The 
 houses are well built of stone, the mosque is of considerable size, and the people 
 seem well off. A sparkling stream of clear water flows through the village, and 
 then diffuses itself through the gardens, which are protected by strong fences of 
 prickly fig. One graceful group of lofty palms just outside the village, and single 
 trees here and there rising above the gardens, combine with the masses of cactus 
 to heighten the oriental effect of the view. 
 
 In our sketch, an arm of the great plain is seen behind the town, and is 
 bounded l)v the ranee of Gilboa's mountains.
 
 ( 189 ) 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 THE GREAT PLAIN AND JEZREEL. 
 
 Tub Plain of Esdraelon, whose name is merely the Gi-reek form of the Hebrew 
 word Jezreel, is so called from the old royal city of Jezreel, situated near its 
 eastern extremity on a low spur running out from ]\Iount Gillwa. This broad 
 plain stretches its arms across the middle of Palestine, from the Mediterranean to 
 the Jordan: its central portion is almost triangular, the southern base being about 
 eighteen miles long, the eastern fifteen miles, and the northern aljout twelve. 
 Only a small portion of its expanse is tilled, though the soil is wonderfully 
 fertile, to which fact gigantic weeds and huge strong thistles bear testimony. 
 Three branches run out to the eastward. The southernmost branch lies between 
 the uplands of Manasseh behind Jenin, and the mountains of Gilboa •, the northern- 
 most runs between Mount Tabor and the Lesser Hermon ; and the central branch 
 between the latter range and that of Mount Gilboa ; and this is both the richest and 
 most famous. This is the " Valley of Jezreel," where Gideon conquered, and Saul 
 and Jonathan met defeat and death. At each side of its western entrance stood 
 Shunem and Jezreel ; and far down it to the eastward was Bethshan, now called 
 Beisan, which looked down into the Jordan valley, and upon whose walls, which 
 the Hebrews had never been able to win from the Canaanite, the bodies of Saul 
 and his sons were fastened. There they hung till the mighty men of Jabesh- 
 Gilead, a city situated nearly opposite Bethshan on tlie other side of Jordan, 
 carried them off from their ignominious position, and buried them. It was a 
 feeling beyond mere respect for their slain king which prompted the warriors to 
 this daring feat. They were paying a tribute of genuine disinterested gratitude 
 for past benefits to one who never could thank or repay them. 
 
 The great plain was the inheritance of the tribe of Issachar, and En-gannim 
 was within its boundary. Old Israel on his death-bed had prophesied : " Issachar 
 is a strong ass, couching down between two burdens ; and he saw that rest was 
 good and the land that it was pleasant, and bowed his shoulder to bear and 
 became a servant unto tribute ;" and Moses in his farewell blessing had said, 
 " Rejoice, Issachar, in thy tents." The character of the tribe was modified by 
 the character of his country. The plain was so indefensible, so open to sudden
 
 100 THE GREAT PLAIN AND JEZREEL. 
 
 incursion from oil quarters, that Issacliar preferred to purchase peace from what- 
 ever power might, for the moment, be in the ascendant by the payment of black 
 mail, to keeping lumself prepared at all times to fight for liis freedom and his 
 wealth. He had few cities of any importance; consequently he led chiefly a 
 nomad life, dwelling in tents ; and the fat soil of the land that he saw was pleasant, 
 gave him ample means of paying the exactions of his masters whoever they might 
 chance to be, and of growing rich himself besides. Few were the occasions in 
 which he took a definite political course ; and when he did, he seems to have 
 understood and appreciated the exigencies of the moment and acted with pru- 
 dence. 
 
 From the dawn of history this plain has never been safe ground : its wealth 
 has ever invited inroad. The Canaanite drove over it in his iron chariots at one 
 time, and for a period from the Philistine fortress at Bethshan the marauder often 
 went fortli to the spoil ; Init, at intervals, for the whole of its history down to the 
 present moment, " the children of the East," the wild tribes from beyond Jordan, 
 have come up "with their cattle and their tents, as grasshoppers for multitude, 
 Jioth thev and their camels without number, and have entered into the laud to 
 destroy it." They and the Midianite reaped what Israel had sown ; and now year 
 by year, to a greater or less degree, they pour over the Jordan with all their 
 families and property, feed their flocks on the wild pasture land, and reap much 
 of what the Arab fellah has sown. In the open plain there are no villages, but 
 here and there we see a cluster of the black tents of the Bedouin and their herds 
 scattered around. 
 
 This plain was the natural battle-field of Palestine, though not one which the 
 Hebrews would have chosen, being more suited to those who trusted in chariots 
 and in horses, which formed no part of Israel's arra}'. Here Israel won some of 
 his greatest victories. The battle that inspired the triumphant hymn of Deborah 
 Avas fought here, and here the host of the children of the East was so miraculouslj^ 
 discomfited by Gideon. For seven years the Midianites and their allies had 
 ravaged the territory of Israel by God's permission. At length, " the children 
 of Israel cried unto the Lord;" and he gave a ready answer to their prayer, and 
 sent his angel to commune with Gideon face to face, and gave him his mission to 
 save his country. To strengthen his faith, strange signs were vouchsafed to him; 
 and when he had gathered together an army of thirty-two thousand men from his 
 own tribe of Manasseh and from Asher, Zebulun, and Naphthali — Issachar, Avhich 
 lay in the midst of these tribes, being left out — the Lord, who could save by many 
 or by few, saw fit to use the latter as his instrument, and the mighty deliverance 
 from their oppressors was effected by thi'ee hundred chosen men of Israel.
 
 H 
 
 
 e 
 
 •-5 
 
 a 
 
 o
 
 THE GREAT TLAIN AND JEZREEL. 193 
 
 The most pathetic dh*ges over the mighty dead which Scrii)tui'e hands down 
 to us were suug iu grief for defeats which Israel suffered in Esdraelon's plain. 
 
 Almost on the same spot where Gideon triumphed over the Midianite, Saul 
 was vanquished by the Philistines, but now it was up the bare steeps of their own 
 familiar mountains that the defeated fled for refuge ; for the Israelites were essen- 
 tially mountaineers, and among precipices and defllcs alone could they hope to 
 escape the pursuit of those who were wont to drive iron chariots in the plain. 
 On Mount Gilboa, Israel fell down slain, and Saul and Jonathan were not divided 
 in their death. 
 
 Directing our course northwards along the border of the plain, right across 
 the opening of the three eastern branches, our first point is Jezreel, now called 
 Zerin ; and here, though there is much to think of and recall, yet there is little 
 to see. A great ruinous square tower, many artificial caves now used b}'^ the 
 villagers as granaries, several sarcophagi, some of which are ornamented with 
 sculpture, and some heaps of rubbish, are the only relics that connect Zerin with 
 the past in which Jezreel played for a time so conspicuous a part. About twenty 
 modern hovels are scattered over this ancient site. The tower is used as a place 
 of entertainment, where it is said that native travellers " are treated to bare walls, 
 fleas ad libitum, and a supper at the public expense." This tower cannot be the 
 " Tower of Jezreel," commemorated in Scripture, but it may be its successor, built 
 on the same foundations ; and it is remarkable that the only prominent feature on 
 the site should be just such a tower as that on which the watchman stood who 
 spied the company of Jehu as he came, and said, " I see a company," and re- 
 ported the subsequent occurrences until he could identify the leader by his furious 
 driving. 
 
 Our sketch is taken from the south, and from this point of view we cannot 
 appreciate the fine position of the ancient city, which seems, as seen from hence, 
 to have covered a low rocky mound elevated but little above the undulating 
 plateau by which it is approached ; but on the northern side there is an abrupt 
 descent of more than a hundred feet to that fomous part of the plain which is 
 specially called the Yalley of Jezreel. The prospect from the river in Jezreel, 
 therefore, was a wide one, and Jehu's company could be seen from afar as they 
 hurried up this centre branch from the ford of Jordan. The naked peak and 
 weather-worn sides of Lesser Hermon are well seen in our \ie\v ; and when Israel 
 encamped at the base of Gilboa, by the fountain of Jezreel, at the bottom of the 
 steep descent from the cit}', and Philistia's forces were collected at Shunem at the 
 foot of Little Hermon on the opposite side of the vallej', Saul, troubled in mind 
 because he felt the Lord had forsaken him, and that there was no prophet to give 
 

 
 194 THE GREAT PLAIN AND JEZIIEEL. 
 
 liiin encouragement and advice, went in disguise by niglit ovei- tlic mountain's 
 shouldei' to Endor to consult the woman who had a familiar spirit. 
 
 Jezreel was an ancient city mentioned in Joshua, but for its magnilicencc and 
 its historical celel)rit3^ it was indebted to Ahab, who for a time raised it to the 
 importance of a provincial capital for Israel. The royal residence of Judah's 
 sovereigns was always at Jerusalem, but Israel's raonarchs changed their regal 
 abodes according to individual fancy. Jeroboam first beautified Shechem and 
 dwelt there, and afterwards seems to have built Tirzah, whose loveliness was a 
 jn'overb, but whose site is unknown. Nadab probably made it his residence : 
 Baasha reigned there twenty-four years ; and his son, Elah, two years, until he 
 was assassinated whilst he was " drinking himself drunk " in his palace there. 
 In Tirzah, the short sovereignty of Zimri was spent, and he perished in the flames 
 of the burning palace which he himself had set on fire. Omri, we have seen, 
 founded Samaria, and Ahab luiilt his ivory house at Jczreel, which was then, 
 doubtless, surrounded with groves and gardens, among which was that small plot 
 inherited from his ancestors by Naboth, coveted hy Ahab, and won, we well 
 recollect how, by Jezebel. This small garden, and the sad tale of the wronged 
 citizen who owned it, have done more to fix the name of Jczreel in the popular 
 mind than all the other events transacted there put together. 
 
 A fountain not more than a mile from Zerin, that from which the inhabitants 
 usually draw their supply, is probably the famous "Fountain of Jezreel," where 
 Saul and Israel encamped before the great disaster of Mount Gilboa ; and is 
 thought to be identical with the spring of Harod where Gideon rested before his 
 attack on the IMiilianitcs. The spring bursts forth with a tine strong stream at the 
 foot of some rocks at the bottom of the steep descent into the Yalley of Jczreel.
 
 ( I!'^ ) 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 FROM JEZREEL TO TIBERIAS. 
 
 The first Hebrew wlio vii'weci p]sdracloii's Plain must have lookrd (Hi iiiany a 
 scene identical with that which is now spread out before our eyes. The barren- 
 ness of Little Ilernion contrasted as violently then as it does now with the 
 exuberant fruitfulness of the level ground around its base ; and this fertile soil is 
 now tilled as rudely by the Arab as it was then by the Canaanite. The wide 
 tract, untouched by the plough, is covered with the same vigorous herbage, and 
 tlirows up the same rank weeds as when it fed the flocks and herds of the " }ieoi)le 
 of the East," who were attracted by its pasturage from the further side of Jordan. 
 The dark tents of the Arab encampment we see far off have in 1:0 way changed 
 in appearance and construction since the hoary patriarchal times, and such tents 
 were ancient in Joshua's day. The stream that gushes with pleasant murmur 
 from the foot of the rock that shades us, spreads out into a pool, and then ripples 
 cheerily along as if in laughing defiance of the fierce heat and lurid sunshine. 
 Thirsty animals — sheep, goats, horses, asses, were drinking along its course. The 
 women, who now dwell on Jezreels ruins, dress in much the same costume as 
 those who dwelt there of yore, and like them, believers in a false creed, fill waWv 
 jars at the spring; and girls who might have been Midianite damsels sit with 
 their feet in the stream dabbling and splashing with the water which soon 
 becomes tepid after it leaves its birthplace in the rock. There is a gradual slope 
 upwards from hence to the base of Little Hcrmon ; and the village over the 
 swelling brow is the ancient Shunem, a town when Joshua invaded the land, and 
 the camping place of the Philistines on that night when Saul sought the wise 
 woman of Endor, and his army slept around ; whilst the ridge just behind the 
 village is no doubt the " Hill of Moreh," where the Midianitcs were posted 
 when Gideon and the three hundred went up from this " Well of Harod," and 
 " the sword of the Lord and of Gideon " overthrew Israel's oppressors. There is 
 not an object that speaks of the nineteenth ccntuiy in all we see around us ; not 
 even the living Arabs themselves, according to the following sketch, by a 
 traveller, of an incident occurring at this verj^ spot: — 
 
 "Just alter we had halted here, a sheikh of one of the wild Eastern tribes, 
 
 o 2
 
 19(5 FROM JEZREEL TO TIBERIAS. 
 
 ill dross ;mi(1 oniaiiKMits, Ix/aring and lia))its, just such aiiollici' as one ol' tlie 
 'kings' or 'princes' of Midian, rode up upon a line mure riclily caparisoned, 
 wliicli lia<l a foal ruiuiing at her side. lie might have Ijeen Oreb, or Zeob, 'The 
 Kaven,' or ' The Wolf,' or perhaps even as great a chief as Zebah or Zahnunna. 
 lie dismounted by the fountain, and, after a short parley with our servant Salem, 
 came up, and courteously bade us welcome ; then sitting down he partook of our 
 ' liread and salt,' which, in this particular instance, consisted of coffee, cake, aud 
 tn))acco. When we were about to continue our journe}' he gave us a pressing 
 invitation to pass the night at his tents, which were pitched a little out of our 
 road. Wc excused ourselves on the ground that our baggage and tents had long 
 gone on, and could not now be recalled. He urged us then, at any rate, to dine 
 on our way ; but knowing something of Arab feasts and of the time it takes to 
 jirepare and get through them, and then sit smoking afterwards, we were obliged 
 to decline this offer of hospitality, which would, to a certainty, have prevented 
 our reaching our tents that night. The sheikh then insisted upon holding our 
 stii'rup as we mounted our horses, and we bade him farewell. 
 
 " When we had ridden for some distance over the plain, we saw an Arab 
 galloping to cut us off, and soon he came up with us. Imagination could not pic- 
 ture a more poetic embodiment of the Arab and his attributes, in face, form, 
 manners, sumptuous attire, and splendid steed, than the beautiful boy, who now 
 \\ ith all the grace of a high bred Oriental, accosted us in phrases of Eastern 
 politeness as ancient as the patriarchs. ' You are welcome ; will you do us 
 honour ? will you be our ally ?' This was the young sheikh, the son of our 
 acquaintance at Jezreel's fountain, and he had been despatched after us by his 
 father to tr}', by importunity, to persuade us to be his guests. His head and 
 shoulders were covered with a flowing Mecca handkerchief of red and yellow silk 
 and gold, with a long fringe which fell over his white robe, and his l)oots were 
 scarlet. He held, and managed well, an immensely long spear, and his white mare 
 was richly caparisoned with scarlet trappings covered with tassels and ornaments. 
 With an earnest face and most winning smile, he begged us to turn aside with him, 
 if it were only for ;in hour, to drink coffee ; but we were obdurate, and at last he 
 turned back disappointed. His whole appearance stamped him as being of high 
 degree, the scion of some ancient warrior race of unmitigated robbers, possibly a 
 descendant uf those very ' kings," who, as Scripture tells us, met their deaths so 
 cahnly and Ijravely at Gideon's own hands, as became sucli high-born leaders in 
 the battle and the foray." 
 
 Leaving the fountain, we turn liack to a little spring beneath the town 
 of Jczrcel. It was somewhere near this that Naboth's property lay, and in this
 
 VUOM ,TKZ1!EEL TO TIP.EKIAS. 109 
 
 *' portion of Nabotli the Jezrcclito," [lart of tlio proplicfv wliicli (Iciiounceil tlic 
 liouso of Aliab was fullilled to the letter ; and king .Idinm, Ahal)'s son, was slain 
 by Jchii, and cast into " the plat of ground," to gain wliicii llie wickedness had 
 been done. Then, on the ridge al)ove, reti-iitutiun fell on the chief actoi- in the 
 crime, and dogs ate Jezebel in tlie jxirtion of Jezreel, according to Elislia's woril. 
 
 Solem, the ancient Shnneni, is now a large village, defended, as well as its 
 gardens of orange and lemon trees, pomegranates and olives, bj' dense and lofty 
 hedges of prickly tig, an impenetrable barrier to man and beast. Here dwelt the 
 wealthy lady who entertained Elisha as often as he passed, and, with her 
 husband's sanction, built a little chamber on the wall of their house, opening 
 upon the terrace roof, and placed it at the prophet's disposal. Here, as a reward, 
 a son was given to the childless pair; and when years had passed, in the fields 
 around the boy got his death stroke and died in his mother's arms in Phuneni. 
 The Shunemite had shown her love for God and God's servant. Now her faith 
 was sorely tried, and found to be true and unwavering. In her hour of dire 
 distress she sought Jehovah's servant, and the son that had been given as tlu^ 
 reward of her love was given again to the faith that could believe even in the face 
 of death; and in the village throngh which we pass, her dead son was raised by 
 the prophet. 
 
 As we ride on, we see a little to our right a smaller, poorer village on the 
 northern base of Little Hermon. Here, too, the dead was raised to life ; but it 
 was one who was greater than a prophet who wrought the miracle. This village 
 is still called by the same name as when Jesus jDassed this way and met at its 
 gates the bier of the dead man who was the only son of his widowed mother. 
 This is Nain ; and here He who was the resurrection and the life, in compassion 
 for mortal sorrow, broke the Ijands of death and gave back the dead son to his 
 mother. "We are now crossing the entrance of the northernmost of the eastern 
 branches of the plain ; and the strange mass of Tabor, rounded and vast, rises 
 before us, while down the eastern valley we see another poor hamlet of about 
 twenty hovels. This is Endor. The village of Deburieh, at the foot of ilonnt 
 Tabor, marks the site and preserves a recollection of the name of Daberath, a 
 city of Issachar, on the very border of Zebnlon, and allotted to the Levites, as 
 was also En-gannim at the other extremity of the plain. 
 
 Every one of the Scriptural sites we have referred to in the plain of 
 Esdraelon claims a high antiquity, but one alone of them is famed in the Gospel 
 narrative. Jesus must often have crossed the plain ou his way to and from 
 Nazareth and the other Galilean cities where he passed so much of his earthly 
 career ; but at Nain alone, one of the least important of the towns of Esdraelon, is 
 it recorded that he did anv niiirhtv work. Nain now is wretched and ruinous ;
 
 200 FKOM JEZREEL TO TIBERIAS. 
 
 )jut the sweet remembrance of tlie touching story of the widowed mother's grief 
 and the Saviour's tender S3'mpathy gives a more living interest to the ])oor 
 hamlet at Little Hermon's feet, and the sepulchral caves in its hill-side to which 
 the (lead man was being carried, than we can feel for lordly Jezreel, or for the 
 old and strong fortress city of Bethshan. 
 
 Mount Tabor is climbed through oak forests and tlioru thickets, among which, 
 upon the level summit, are open grassy glades, amid whose thick flower-spangled 
 herbage coveys of partridges uestle and gazelles browse. Around this extensive 
 platform are the substantial remains of ancient fortifications and other ruins; and 
 the cool shade of the trees and the invigorating breeze that sweep around the 
 mountain's brow are doubly delightful after the heat of the plain. The views 
 from this platform are splendid, whether from its southern margin looking over 
 the southern country, or over Galilee of the Gentiles. Mount Tabor is the 
 traditional scene of the transfiguration of our Lord ; but various circumstances 
 combine to show the improbability that this glorification of the Son of man could 
 have occurred on the broad platform which crowns this grand and isolated 
 mountain. One fact seems almost conclusive upon the point : Jesus took Peter, 
 and James, and John, the apostles he most loved and trusted, " up into a high 
 mountain apart;" but Tabor's top was then no place for solitude. A walled city 
 covered the level area both before the New Testament days and long afterwards. 
 Jerome hints a doubt on the correctness of the tradition ; but long after his day 
 convents and churches were built, and pilgrimages made to this holy mountain, 
 and no one doubted that it was the real scene of the glorious event. Mount 
 Tabor is famous in history, and has seen many a battle, from the great victory of 
 Barak to that of Napoleon. 
 
 Lookino; down from the loftv ridge, the Lake of Tiberias is seen in its 
 whole expanse outspread far beneath. From the sketch engraved in our present 
 chapter an idea may be formed of the dilapidated aspect of the town and its 
 defences — fallen walls, breached towers, a ruinous castle, and a mosque with its 
 cupola shattered and gone. It was not man who worked all this destruction, 
 though the fortifications of Tiberias look as if they had just been stormed and 
 dismantled by some conqueror. The earthquake of the 1st of January, 1837, 
 was the irresistible foe which prostrated wall and tower, and there the ruins 
 remain as nature's convulsion left them. 
 
 On the flat roofs of most of the houses there are arbours or tents made, 
 some of straw, others of boughs of trees, or of branches of oleander, as summer bed- 
 rooms for the inhabitants. Beyond the town the lake is seen bounded by the inha- 
 bitants of Basha^i, high above which snowy Ilernion, still for distant, towers aloft.
 
 ( 201 ) 
 
 XXXVI I [. 
 
 GALILEE OF THE GENTILES. 
 
 TiiJEUfAS is esteemed a holy city by Israel's cliildrcii, and has been so dignilicd 
 ever since the middle of the second centnry. For five or six hundred years it 
 was the metropolis of the Jewish race, and on the slopes outside the town nuiiiy 
 of their most revered rabbis were interred. Next to the Valley of Jehoshapluit, 
 the dying son of Abraham would wish to rest on this bleak upland. The old 
 castle of Safcd crowns an isolated peak to the north-west of Tiberias, and rises 
 more than three thousand feet above the lake. Around it the town hangs on the 
 precipitous mountain side, and is counted as one of the four sacred cities of the 
 Hebrews. 
 
 In 1837, a horrible catastrophe befel Safed. The whole town and rastle 
 were destro3'ed by an earthquake, but the Jewish quarter, built as we descrilied, 
 met with an awful fate. The topmost row of houses fell down on the next-, and 
 their combined ruin again on the third rank, and so on, till the whole quarter 
 had crashed down and was heaped upon the inhabitants and their propert}'. I'ive 
 thousand persons were supposed to liave perished at Safed, and four thousand of 
 these were Jews. 
 
 The " sermon on the mount," the first teaching given by our Lord to his 
 apostles after their appointment, and meant more specially for their instructicMi 
 than for that of the multitude, who also heard and were astonished at the new 
 and wonderful doctrine, was delivered from one of the hills in this neighbourhood ; 
 and if the traditional site, "The Horns of Ilattin," called by pilgrims "The 
 Mount of Beatitudes," be the true one, Safed was full in view; and it may be 
 that our blessed Saviour made use of this cit}' enthroned on its towering peak as 
 an emphatic illustration of his meaning when he said, " A city that is set on a 
 hill cannot be hid." 
 
 What the city then in existence was we do not know. There are old 
 foundations on the peak ; and it is most probable that such a splendid site was 
 occupied in our Lord's day as it was afterwards. The castle most likely was 
 built by the Crusaders : at any rate it was held by the Knights Templars, and 
 was so strong that Saladin besieged it for five weeks before he could take it. It 
 is a striking object from all the country round. It looks over the whole of the
 
 202 GALILEE OF THE GENTILES. 
 
 Lake of Tiberias, over all tlio ancient kingdom of Basliau cast of tlie Jordan 
 valley, and over the greater part of Galilee, and seems to be about on a level 
 with Mount Tabor. 
 
 A few miles north-west of Safed is the village of Meiron. Here, among 
 other sacred tombs, is that of Ilillel, said to have been the grandfather of 
 Gamaliel. To these shrines, some time in the month of May, Jewish pilgrims 
 flock in thousands and celebrate strange heathen rites in honour of the great 
 saints buried here. This festival, which is called " The Feast of the Burning," 
 and appears to be soiue modification of the worship of Moloch, is carried on amid 
 singing, dancing, feasting, drunkenness, and immorality. Then, when the revel 
 is at its height, pilgrims burn all kinds of valuables. Costly shawls, silk robes, 
 rich embroidery, books, scarfs, handkerchiefs, are dipped in oil and set on fire 
 amid screaiuing trills from the women, with shouts and clapping of hands which 
 grow more uproarious whenever any particularly costly article is consumed, or 
 when something makes a greater blaze than is usual ! The object of these pagau 
 orgies is probably to win the intercession and buy the protection of the holy men 
 around whose graves they are perpetrated ; and we may infer that it was the 
 vicinity of these tombs which drew the Jews to Safed, and caused that modern 
 town to bo ranked with the ancient cities of Tiberias, Heljron, and Jerusalem, 
 though we have no positive evidence on the subject. 
 
 At Tiberias aljout six hundred persons were killed during the earthquake ; 
 and now the population has dwindled down to about two thousand, half of whom 
 are Jews. 
 
 We are now in Galilee ; and to the Galilean ministry of the Saviour the 
 records of the iirst three evangelists are in a great measure devoted. It was 
 natural that this should be so, for it was in the country and cities of Galilee that 
 Christ preached his own gospel during tlie greater part of his ministerial career ; 
 and the district of Galilee which was most favoured by his frequent presence and 
 miracles was unquestionably tins "Sea of Galilee which is the Sea of Tiberias," 
 on whose shores we now are, and the land bordering upon it to the northward. 
 The Hebrews of his own race, the royal tribe of Judah, Avould uone of him ; 
 Benjamin, Ephraim, and Manasseh, who were less of kin to him than the other 
 tribes, being sprung from lonely Rachel, were as stiff-necked as Judah ; and the 
 sure word of prophecy had spoken : " The land of Zabulon, and the land of 
 Nephthalim Galilee of the Gentiles ; the people which sat in dark- 
 ness saw great light." Not a tittle of God's word could fail ; and therefore in 
 Galilee, to the multitudes of Zabulon and Naphthali, Christ himself preached 
 .sidvation and liealed their sick in crowds.
 
 GALILEE OF THE GENTILES. 205 
 
 The northern part of the lake is specially connected willi his ministry. The 
 level strand between the mountains of Naphthali and the lake lead to the "Land 
 of ^Gennesarcth." Miydel still preserves in Arabic garb its old name Magdala. 
 Here was born Mar}^ the afflicted sinner, Mary the healed and loving convert, 
 who stood by the cross of the dying Saviour who had taken her from Satan's 
 thrall, Mary who was the first of all his followers to find that her dead Lord w;is 
 risen, and the first to whom that risen Lord appeared triumphant over death. 
 
 Few and wretched are the huts of Magdala at the southern extremity of the 
 fertile plain of Genncsareth, but they are the only fixed dwellings of men through- 
 out its whole extent, which Josephus described as being in his day an earthly 
 jiaradise, exulting in eternal spring. Even now, in its desolate state, it repays 
 by a lavish yield the slight and careless toil which the rude Arab peasant exi)cnds 
 upon it here and there in patches ; and still does a broad fringe of graceful ole- 
 anders border the strand ; but more prominent are the tangled thickets of lote 
 tree, the mighty thistles, the coarse grass, and rank weeds, wide spread over the 
 l)lain, which, when Christ dwelt here, was one jn'olific garden. 
 
 There is almost nothing to see at the ruins of what weighty authorities 
 believe to have been Capernaum, for tliorns and thistles almost choke and hide 
 the fallen stones and indistinct foundations of the city whose buildings were 
 anciently grouped about the modern Khan Minych and the fig-tree fountains. 
 Are these the remains of Capernaum? Who can tell? About the "Land of 
 Gennesareth,'" about Magdala the birthplace of Mary the Penitent, and aljout 
 Roman Tiberias, there is no doubt ; but all local recollections, all reliable tradition 
 respecting Capernaum, Bctlisaida, and Chorazin, have passed away. One of the 
 three cities must have occupied this site, and it may probably have been Caper- 
 naum ; but we have no certain evidence that the home of Christ during his 
 ministry, " his own city," stood here. We know that we tread on the ground 
 Avherc the Redeemer walked and taught and meditated, and wrought miracles. 
 About us are " the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done," but who 
 for all that "repented not." On that smooth beach which stretches for three or 
 four miles on each side of us, Peter and Andrew, James and John, heard the 
 gracious call of Him whom the winds and the storm obeyed, and abandoned on 
 that strand their l)oats and nets and livelihood. 
 
 There again and again Jesus landed and embarked ; there the multitude was 
 gathered while he taught them out of a ship ; and there the crowd was rci)roved 
 who followed him for the sake of the perishable food, and not for the meat which 
 endureth unto everlasting life. In Galilee, not far from hence, Christ wrought 
 his first recorded miracle, and this shore of Galilee's sea saw the last. On this
 
 200 GALILEE OF THE GES TILES. 
 
 sraoolli bead), where first be called them, the ti^lui-ifieil Son of iiiaii, after having 
 perfected our salvation, again appeared to his apostles, Ijusied with their work as 
 of yore ; and ere they knew him he did one more miracle akin to his mighty works 
 ol" old. John was the tirst who recognised his risen Lord, but zealous Peter 
 dashed through the water first to meet him. The unbroken net " full of great 
 lishes an hundred and fifty and three," was drawn to land, and from tlieir Lord's 
 hands the hungry fishermen received the food miraculously supplied. 
 
 As we look around us on this spot, we seem to hear the prophetic doom 
 echoing through eighteen centuries. "Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto 
 thee, Bcthsaida ! — And thou, Capernaum, w Inch art exalted unto heaven, shall be 
 brought down to hell." And must we not believe that the blotting out of their 
 l)lace and name so utterly from human recollection formed part of the fidiilment 
 of the Saviour's words of sorrowful denunciation? 
 
 Our northward course ends here. A village named Keffr Kenna is thought 
 ])y some to be Cana of Galilee, and ancient tradition favours the idea. Modern 
 research, however, lias discovered another village a few miles I'nrtlier north which 
 equall}' answers the Scriptural requirements, and corresponds more exactly in 
 name with the scene of the miracle. It is called "Kaiia-cl-ielil."' We cannot 
 decide to which village the honour belongs, for their claims seem equally 
 balanced. 
 
 Belonging to Nazareth there are two genuine antiquities, a fountain and a 
 tradition. Li our engraving we have portrayed the one, and represented in the 
 background a building raised to commemorate the other. 
 
 The low plain edifice Ijcyond the fountain is the Greek churcli of the Annun- 
 ciation, erected here because, according to tradition promulgated in the spurious 
 gospel of the Eedecmer's youth, Mary the Virgin was drawing water at this 
 fountain when, from the mouth of the angel Gabriel, she heard the first words of 
 prophetic salutation, "Hail! thou that art highly favoured !" 
 
 Thither the women and girls of Nazareth, with long white veils and bands of 
 coins over their heads, throng to fill their graceful water-jars. Their veils do not 
 cover their faces, many of wliich are beautiful. To this very fountain, in olden 
 time, may have come ]\Iary, tlie mother of Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 "Jesus of Nazareth!" What volumes do these words speak! Could 
 Nazareth wish lor no1)hr records or a fuller histor}' ?
 
 LONDON: 
 
 riMNTED BV V>. CLU^VES A.ND SONS, STAMFOUD STREET 
 AND CHARING CROSS.
 
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