Tent Life in the Holy Land (2024)

From The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia

Tent Life in the Holy Land (1857) is a book by William Cowper Prime.

It is based on his experiences there, which include his accounts of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Dead Sea, and the port of Jaffa, among others. In The Innocents Abroad, Mark Twain parodies Tent Life in the Holy Land as Grime's Nomadic Life in Palestine, taking aim at Prime's overly sentimental prose and his violent encounters with the local inhabitants. Twain makes the contemporary popularity of Tent Life evident in his parody: "Some of us will be shot before we finish this pilgrimage. The pilgrims read ‘Nomadic Life’ and keep themselves in a constant state of Quixotic heroism." Twain speculates that if a homicide did occur, Grimes should be prosecuted as an "accessory before the fact."

Preface.

THE publication of BOAT LIFE IN EGYPT AND NUBIA,a volume containing the incidents of my journeying forsome months before I reached the Holy Land, rendersunnecessary what might, in ordinary cases, be properby way of preface to a book like this .I visited the sacred soil, as a pilgrim, seeking mineown pleasure. I went where it pleased me. I actedas it pleased me, yielding, with delicious license, to thewhim of every passing hour. I prayed or I laughed;I knelt or I turned my back; I wept or I sang; andwhen I sang it was now a song of sinful humanity andnow a grand old monkish hymn, to which my voice madethe moonlit streets of Jerusalem ring as I strolled alongthem, or which I sent floating over the holy waves ofGalilee. I have written my book even as I traveled.W. C. P.NEW YORK, March 27, 1857.Me receptet Zion illa,Zion David, urbs tranquilla!Hildebert, Archiep. Tours.O BONE JESU, ut tua castra viderunt, hujus terreni Iherusalem muros, quantos exitus aquarum oculi, corum deduxerunt! Et mox terræ procumbentia sonituoris, et nutu inclinati corporis, Sanctum Sepulchrum tuum salutaverunt; et te,qui in eo jacuisti, ut sedentem . in dextera Patris ut venturum judicem omnium,adoraverunt!Robert the Monk. Liber IX.Gens duce splendida, concio candida vestibus albis,Sunt sine actibus in Spon ædibus, ædibus almis;Sunt sine crimine, sunt sine turbine, sunt sine lite,En Spon artibus, editioribus Israelitæ!mea, spes mea! tu Spon aurca, clarior auro!Agmine splendida, stans duce, florida perpete lauro;bona patria, num tua gaudia teque videbo?bona patria, num tua præmia, plena tenebo?For I have come from foreign lands,And seen the sun of JunoSet over the Holy Jerusalem;And its towers beneath the moon.Bernard de Clugny.And I have stood by the SepulchroWhere our good Lord was laid,And drank of Siloa's brook that flowsIn the cool of its own palm shade.Moir.Contents .1. Nunc Dimittis Domine!LAST DAY IN EGYPT-THE PARTY FOR STRIA-MY SERVANTS-LEAVING AL- EXANDRIA-AT SEA-HOME THOUGHTS-MIRIAM SLEEPS ON DECK-LAND!-THE LAND OF PROMISE, .Page. 132. The Greek Beauty.LANDING AT JAFFA- EASTERn Porters -HOUSE OF SIMON-AMERICAN Flag-TENT EQUIPAGE-MISSIONARIES-ANCIENT Jorra-A Betrothal-The HAREEM A GREEK GIRL-THE TENTS, . .. 253. The Joy of the whole Earth.BREAKING Up the Camp-PLAIN OF SHARON-TOWER AT RAMLED -Lydda- MONKS OF HOLY LAND-RAmlen-Abud Marcus- CURIOUS COINCIDENCE— EMMAUS-AJALON-VALLEY OF ELAI -FIRST VIEW OF JERUSALEM-ENTERING THE CITY-OUR HIRED HOUSE, .A. Gethsemane.SUNRISE OVER OLIVET-TOMB OF THE VIRGIN MARY-Garden of GetUSEM- ANE-MOONLIGHT IN THE GARDEN,4158viii CONTENTS .5. The Sepulchre.PageTHE MOUNT OF OLIVES-WINE OF LEBANON-CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE-FRA GIOVANNI-Interior of the Church-СalvaRY-THE HOLYSEPULCHRE-OTHER HOLY PLACES WITHIN THE CHURCH, 68B. Sandal Shoon and Scallop-shell.FERRAJJ-EFFECTS OF A REVOLVER-PILGRIMS TO THE HOLY LAND-THESTORY OF FOULQUE NERRA, Count and PILGRIM,7. Round about Jerusalem.SITE OF JERUSALEM-ITS HILLS AND VALLEYS-POPULATION AND GOVERN- MENT SUPPLIES OF WATER-GENERAL ASPECT-MEANS OF LOCOMOTION— VIA DOLOROSA- CAVERNS UNDER JERUSALEM-OUR HORSES-ARABIANHORSES, .85998. Moriah, Siloam, Zion, Calbary.MOUNT MORIAII-VIRGIN'S FOUNTAIN-POOL OF SILOAM-MOUNT ZION- TOMBOF DAVID- PLACE OF THE LAST SUPPER-AMERICAN JEWS' HOSPITAL- JERUSALEM OF OLD,. 119I. Where Jesus Wept.ROAD TO BETHANY-BETHANY-TOMB OF LAZARUS-CHURCH OF THE ASCEN- SION ON THE MOUNT OF OLIVES-PLACE OF CHRIST'S ASCENSION-A RIDEAROUND JERUSALEM-LEPERS-JEWS' PLACE OF WAILING- RELICS OF ANCIENT JERUSALEM, . 12610. The Monks and Tombs.LATIN MONKS OF TERRA SANTA-LATIN CONVENT-ITS TREASURES-RELICS AND ROSARIES-ARMENIAN CONVENT-AMERICAN SOAP-TOMB OF HELENA-VARIOUS TOMBS-ACELDAMA—INTERESTING TOMBS-CATACOMBS OF OLIVET, 142CONTENTS.11. Ben Israel.A GHOST IN the Valley OF JENOSHAPHAT-STORY OF A JEW-A PILGRIM AND STRANGER, .ixPage16412. The Mosk of Omur.Method of OBTAINING ADMISSION-HISTORICAL FACTS-DOME OF THE ROCK -Description OF THE PRINCIPAL MOSK-ROCK OF THE Temple-PRAYING- PLACE OF JESUS-PULPIT OF DAVID-THE TEMPLE-Crypts-KnigUITS TEMPLAR- GROTTO OF JESUS -GOLDEN GATE,13. The Way of the Wilderness.SKETCH OF Ourselves-Betuni-Bed of the Kedron-SAINT SABAS-NIGHT AT THE CONVENT- VIEW OF THE DEAD SEA-DESOLATE HILLS -Shoreof the Dead Sea,14. The Dead Sea and the Jordan.. 174195BATH IN THE SEA-EXPERIMENTS—Water of the Sea-The Jordan- BathIN THE JORDAN-BLOOD REVENGE JERICHO- ROAD TO JERUSALEM, . 21015. The Birth- place of the World.RIDE TO BEThlehem-RacHEL'S GRAVE-Bethlehem-PLACE OF THE NATIVITY-ARGUMENT IN ITS FAVOR-STARLIGHT ON BETHLEHEM, .16. Where the Futhers are.POOLS OF SOLOMON-Valley OF ESCOL-HERRON-CAVE OF MACHPELAN-OAKS OF MAMRE-THE PATRIARCHS-VISIT TO THE MOSK-ROAD TO JERUSALEM,2282391*ΧCONTENTS .17. The Holy Places.PageGENERAL TOPOGRAPHY-AORA AND BEZEtha-Tue HoLY SEPULCHRE-II 18-TORY OF CALVARY AND THE SEPULCHRE, 25818. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem!BIBLE ILLUSTRATIONS-THE Departure-THE LAST GAZE-BEEROTI-BETHEL- HANGING BETUNI-THE TENTS MISSING- FOUND,.19. Shiloh, Shechem, and Samaria.SHILOH-MOUNT HIERMON-JACOB'S WELL-JOSEPH'S GRAVE- EBAL ANDGERIZIM-NABLOUS-THE SAMARITANS-SAMARIA-A PISTOL-BALL-JEZREEL-ESDRAELON,. 813" 82620. Nain and Nazareth.SHUNEM-NAIN-RIVER KISHON -ENDOR -NAZARETI-VIRGIN'S HOUSE- HOSPITALITY OF MONKS-IIILL ABOVE NAZARETH -VIEW FROM THE HILLMOUNT TABOR-Battles near Tabor, • 34121. Holy Crosse.REGINALD OF CHANTILLON-A GALLANT FIGHT JACQUES DE MAILLE- GATHERING OF THE CHRISTIAN ARMY-BATTLE or HATTIN-THE Loss or THE TRUE CROSS-FROM TABOR TO TIBERIAS-SEA OF GALILEE -THE OLD MAN'S MEMORY,22. Shipwrecked on Gulilee.SIMON PETER'S SUCOESSOR-ON THE SEA-OUTLET OF THE JORDAN-A STORMON THE SEA--TOILING AND ROWING-CAST AWAY ON THE LAND OF THE GADARENES FORDING THE JORDAN,.23. The Wine of Tiberius.BUNDAY MORNING-CARPETS AND CIGARS-BUYING WINE-SABAI OF TIBERIAS-AGALILEE WINE-CELLAR-OLD COINS,• 353. 3703S2CONTENTS .24. The Upper Jordan.TINERIAS -MAGDALA - CAPERNAUM - Josern's PIT-A GAZELLE CHASE- MILL OF MALAHA-OUR BROTHER-SOURCES OF THE JORDAN-ARRIVAL ATBANIAS,xiPago88925. Casaren Philippi.FOUNTAIN OF BANIAS-LAST NIGHT ON HOLY SOIL-A RUINED CASTLEROUTE OVER MOUNT HERMON-BEIT JIN,.28. The Jews of Hermon.A MOSLEM VILLAGE-THE DRUSES-A MURDER AND BURIAL-MIRIAM'S TENT -AN ENEMY-THE COOK'S BRAVERY-SNOWED UNDER-HIRING A HOUSE- WANTED A BIBLE,27. Eden and a Daughter of Ebe.401407FROM BEIT JIN TO DAMASCUS-DAMASCUS FOUNTAINS-MOSK OF YETE- AROUND DAMASCUS-A TALE OF PASSION-THE COUNTESS Ianthe, . 42028. Damascus.KHANS-HOUSES-A JEW'S PALACE-THE SEVEN SLEEPERS-AMERICAN MISSION-A CAMEL-DRIVER'S GOAD-BETUNI-OUR FATHER-THE HILLS OFHEAVEN,29. Crossing Anti- Lebanon,GREAT SPRING AT FERJEE-ABILA-TOMB OF ABEL-ANCIENT PUBLIC WORKS -INSCRIPTIONS-TOMBS-AN AQUEDUCT- ZEBDANI-FERRAJJ,30. The City of the Sun.BAALBEO-IMMORTALITY-THE RUINS OF HELIOPOLIS-IMMENSE STONES-GEN- ERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE RUINS-INSCRIPTIONS,432443456xii CONTENTS.31. The Roses of Lebanon.MIRIAM'S LEVEE-ROSE, SUZAIN, AND ALILA-MARRYING FOR LOVE-GRAVE OF SALAHI- E'DEEN-SPECULATIONS ON THE RUINS OF BAALBEO-WARDA THE Rose,Page• 46932. The Storm.CROSSING THE PLAIN-Perilous Situation-RISING STREAMS-ARRIVAL ATMAALAKHA-AChristian House, and DoubtFUL FAMILY—TOMB OF NOAH, 47533. Christian Robbers.INJURED AND INSULTED-APPEAL TO THE GOVERNOR-A COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS-CROSSING LEBANON- NIGHT ON THE TOP OF A KHAN-BEYROUTTHE SEA-THE LAST GALLOP WITH MOHammed-DepaRTURE FROM HOLYLAND,Appendix.ADVICE TO TRAVELERS VISiting Syria,4844951.Lune Dimittis Domine!To see the sun go down beyond the Sepulchre and riseover the mountain of the Ascension, to bare my foreheadto the cold dews of Gethsemane, and lave my dim eyesin the waters of Siloam, to sleep in the company oftheinfinite host above the oaks of Mamre, and to lie in thestarlight of Bethlehem and catch, however faintly, somenotes of the voices of the angels, to wash off the dust oflife in the Jordan, to cool my hot lips at the well of Samaria, to hear the murmur of Gennesareth, giving meblessed sleep-was not all this worth dreaming of-worthliving for was it not worth dying for?And all this I was to accomplish-not in some dimfuture, but to-morrow-to- morrow!Yea, there lay Holy Land and thither my pilgrim feetwould carry me ere three suns had risen and set.How I shrank from the sea lest it should engulf mobefore I had seen Jerusalem-how I trembled lest thenerves and sinews should fail me and the delicate threadoflife break before I could kneel at the Tomb! How Ilooked carnest, longing, clinging gazes at my wife, lestsome dire mishap should prevent that perfect joy of ourglad lives and forbid our standing together on the Mount ofOlives.Wewere on the shore ofthe Mediterranean, two miles14 LAST DAY IN EGYPT.eastward of the walls of Alexandria, on the mounds oftheancient city. The sun was going down behind the oldcastle on the point. In its very burning glory, and afterward in the deep soft flush of twilight, I saw the fastvanishing vessel in which the companions of our Egyptianwinter were going to Italy.Turning to the east I looked at the gray horizon, beyond which lay the Holy Land, and the momentary feelingof lonesomeness at parting with the only persons in theEast to whom we were bound by ties of kindred, andwhose good companionship had been half the delight ofthose months on the Nile, gave place to a thrill of keenpleasure at the thought that right there away lay Jerusalem, and in four days more we should be within theholy gates.The evening came down with all the soft and quietbeauty of Egypt, and the sky was more brilliant with starsthan ever before. Night after night we had thought andsaid the same thing, and this, which was to be our lastnight in Egypt, was to our unwearied eyes most beautifulof all.The first chill breath from the sea warned us homeward.Mounting our donkeys, we woke up the donkey- boys wholay curled up in the corner of a broken tomb, and by dintof the usual amount of beating and shouting we succeededin getting up a reasonable speed and went over the desolate hills to the gate ofthe city.In the streets of Alexandria all was busy and noisy. Aswe entered at the open Rosetta gate we met the usualcrowd of soldiers and women, a wedding procession anda funeral wailing. A party of half drunken Turks nearlyrode over us in their carriage, a mishap which costtheir driver a swinging blow from the end of my koorbash as he dashed by me, and Mustapha Bey, followed byhis retinue of servants, paused a moment as he met us, toOUR PARTY. 15exchange a cheerful good- evening which proved to be afarewell, for we did not see him again. He had been myfriend on sundry occasions in Cairo and was very muchofa gentleman in his ways. Dashing on at as much speedas a donkey gallop can be accused of, we came to thedoor of Cesar Tortilla's Hotel d' Europe, the pleasantestin Iskandereych.Franks and Saracens, Jews, Turks, and Infidels crowded the sidewalk, and talked more languages than wasnecessary to the scattering at Babel. Donkeys and donkey-boys, speaking English equally well, assisted to increase the confusion while they settled their accountswith theirlate employers. Through this mass we pushedour way up to the dining-room, where we found dinneron the table, it having been delayed for our return, asMiriam was the only lady in the hotel.There was to be an arrival from Cairo that evening.That is to say the viceroy's orders for a train had beenpublished, but that by no means insured its running, forit was a very common thing to have a train withdrawnon the morning that it was announced for, and many passengers seriously discommoded thereby.We had not advanced far, however, in the business ofdinner, always a lengthy and a serious business after aday among the relics of an old city, when a general outburst of the aforementioned crowd at the door of thehotel announced an arrival, and a few minutes later ourfriend Moreright entered.It had been uncertain, when we left him in Cairo,whether he would join us, and we had therefore madeno arrangements for him, but he had concluded to accompany us as far as Jerusalem, and our party was therefore complete.Our company for the Holy Land, and as far to theeastward as circ*mstances would permit, consisted only16 MY SERVANTS.of my friend Whitely, and Miriam and myself. ButMoreright, and Mr. De Leon, our accomplished and excellent consul- general in Egypt, with Mr. S of Baltimore, having agreed to accompany us as far as theHoly City, we had as pleasant a party for the start ascould well be desired. We gathered around the claretafter dinner, and discussed the plans for our landing atJaffa and proceedings thereafter. For although Jaffaand Alexandria are neighboring ports, it is impossible inone to obtain any information about the other. I had taken Abd- el-Atti with me. His conduct as dragomanfor five months previous had been, without exception ,good, and for intelligence, activity, and capability, I wasvery certain I should not find his superior. Were it possible to obtain a Mohammedan dragoman, who was anative of Syria, I should, on some accounts, have preferred one, but this appeared to be out of the question.All the Syrian dragomans that I could find were Christians. My prince of cooks, Hajji Mohammed, had enlisted in my service again, having been well pleased withhis Egyptian term, and Ferrajj, largest, and blackest, andbest of Nubian servants. Ferrajj Abd-Allah, which beinginterpreted, meaneth trusty servant of God, having leftme in Cairo, possessed of my recommendation as a mosttrusty servant of men, could not find it in his heart topart from us so long as we were in Mohammedan land,for he had a horror of only one thing, to wit, becoming aChristian . Ferrajj rejoined us, or rather never left us butfor half a day, and was always at Miriam's back.In Cairo I had three tents made under Abd-el-Atti'ssupervision. They were extra stout, of the best canvasI could procure, and lined throughout with cotton cloth.I could probably have purchased tents at Jaffa muchcheaper, but I could not find such as these any where inthe East, and I was desirous of securing Miriam's com-LEAVING ALEXANDRIA. 17fort in a journey which was likely to be attended withmuch exposure. The top of her tent-pole was fitted witha flagstaff, upon which we literally nailed the Americanflag, the small one which we had used on the Nile, andabove it stood an eagle with outspread wings, as goodan imitation of the bird of Jove and America as aCairene could get up. Our bedsteads were iron, thebedding entirely new, and consequently free from verminof every description. These, with various cases of provisions, and the canteens containing the table furniture,we had sent from Cairo, and they were already on boardthe steamer.We were therefore ready to embark, and as we wereto sail early in the morning we had determined to go onboard that night, and were now passing our last hours inEgypt. The rooms were filled with our party and friendswho called to bid us good-by, until nine o'clock, whenthe carriage was announced.Among my friends in Alexandria with whom I partedlast and most reluctantly, was the vice-consul of Swedenand Norway, Mr. Petersen, a gentleman whose personalaccomplishments would have won our regard even if wehad not been so highly indebted to him for kindness andattention during this and my former visit at Alexandria.Our carriage-wheels alone broke the profound stillnessnow resting on the city of the great son of Philip.Down one street, along a narrow passage, through amore narrow and dark way, where the houses on eachside, almost meeting over our heads, hid the stars fromview; plunging into a mud-hole here, crashing over apile of stone there, scraping the front doors with thehubs of our wheels, and threatening constantly to tearthem open and exhibit the heterogeneous contents oftheAlexandrian shops, we dashed furiously, the horses at afull gallop, toward the shore, preceded by two Nubian.18 THE LANDING PLACE.runners bearing the blazing meshallak torches, thatglared furiously on the latticed fronts of the houses, andawoke the slumbering Egyptians with dreams of fire, untiltorches and carriage drew up suddenly at the water-gateof the city. After the usual loud barking, yelping, andyelling of twenty or thirty dogs was over, a profound stillness settled on the scene.The old gateway hung gloomily over us. Near its twoposts, leaning on the long handles of their torches, werethe two Nubians, black as the night, with eyes flashinglike stars. The smothered blaze lit the scene with a low,fitful glare, and the horses threw up their nostrils andsnorted their impatience, while we dismounted and waitedthe opening ofthe gates.We had the password for the night; and a small door atthe side of the great gate was at length opened by twosleepy soldiers, who came out of the guard-house so slowlythat I refused them the bucksheesh that they demanded,and that I had intended giving.It was a different looking landing- place from thatwhich we had been accustomed to see by daylight. Allwas profoundly still and calm. There was not a voice inthe air or on the sea; no utterance of man or God tobreak the silence. The noisy Arabs, groaning camels,and shouting donkey-boys that infest the spot at otherhours, were as if they had been in the tombs of thePharaohs; and in very truth there was no stretch ofimagination necessary to make that the city of the ancient days, Alexandria the great, and yonder Pharos, thewonder of the world. There was a strange majesty inthe appearance of earth, and air, and sea that night; andI would not exchange those, my last impressions of theland of Egypt, for any that I can think possible.I commanded perfect silence, for the Arabs could notlong keep their lips shut, and for a moment I lookedAN ARAB ROW. 19back at the walls of the city, and the front of the customhouse, which the moonlight converted into a Grecian temple; and my vision swept back through all the changesof two thousand years; with memories of the queen ofbeauty, and luxury; of the great first ofthe Cæsars; ofthepreaching of John, whose surname was Mark; of the flamesthat followed the invasion of Omar; of a thousand scenes,down to the departure of the child of destiny, one onlyof which would have made Alexandria memorable forever. The full moon and silent stars shone as calmly andcoldly as ever on the scene, even as in the centuries ofold; and a meteor, a swift star, that seemed to have beenresting on the zenith, and to have lost its throne ofglory,went rushing down the eastern sky, and vanished towardJerusalem.I smiled, and Miriam nestled close to me, as we satdown in the boat and fixed our eyes together on thatstar, and the spot where it disappeared; and I believethat for a moment we both felt the warm floods pressingtoward our eyelids as we remembered the lands far west,and bethought us of the few hours that was between usand the end of our pilgrimage-the city of our Lord.Our reveries were most rudely interrupted. Ourbaggage had gone on board in the morning. One trunkalone remained, which we had packed to go on to Beyrout, and there await our arrival after we should havefinished our Syrian tour. This we had with us; and itwas over this that one of those infernal Arabian squabblesarose. No description will convey any idea of an Arabdispute. Three voices sound like thirty in their variousgutturals and falsettos; and in this case there were five,shouting, wrangling, and swearing about the trunk.The soldiers at the gate could not allow it to pass. Allpackages are examined on exit from Egypt, inasmuch asthere are more export duties than import. But it is not120 AT SEA.customary to submit travelers' baggage to examination;nevertheless, as we were leaving in the night, the soldiersconsidered it their duty to detain the baggage untilmorning, that the chief officer of the customs mighthimself order it passed. A trifling bucksheesh, the customary substitute for the presence of the chief officer,would not answer the purpose in this instance, and thiswas the cause of the row, for it was a row, and nothingelse. Two of the soldiers were willing, and a third, aNubian, was unwilling; and it appeared, from a whisperthat one of the two gave in my ear, that they had had aquarrel with him, and he was not friendly to them, andwas unwilling to allow them to receive any bucksheesh,even to the extent of sacrificing it himself, a moral valorperfectly astounding in an Oriental. The quarrel grewfurious, and the voices became intolerable, when I amnot certain how it happened, but I saw Ferrajj suspiciouslynear the Nubian's legs, there was a tremendous splash inthe sea, just under the stern of the boat, and a suddenstillness on the land, while the trunk was tumbled in, andwe pushed off toward the steamer. I looked back longenough to see the fellow climb the side of the low pier,and to hear the laughter of his companions. How theysettled it I never knew. The sea plashed around thebow of the boat, and under the blades of the oars, aswe pulled out into the harbor. An hour later we weresafe on board the Italia, and sleeping soundly.The afternoon of the second day out was far frompleasant. A wild gale of wind was blowing from thenorthward, and it began to be exceedingly doubtfulwhether we should be able to effect a landing at Jaffa, inwhich case it would be necessary to go on to Haifa, andmaterially disarrange all our plans. The sun was bright,however, and the lee side of the deck not uncomfortable.We had found it impossible to remain below in the smallFERRAJJ THE FAITHFUL. 21cabin, and, having spread our Persian carpets, we satdown or lounged on the deck, and read, as the ship rolled,enjoying the voyage as keenly as good company and goodbooks could be expected to enable us.It is not to be denied that one or two of the party leftthe dinner table somewhat abruptly, but this was accounted for by several suppositious reasons. No one wasprecisely sea-sick. I have seldom seen any one, in thecabin of any vessel in which I have traveled, who wassea-sick. Curious disordered states of the stomach, dyspeptic symptoms, disarrangements of the bile and indigestion, have been frequent complaints, but always curedby shore air, and therefore not alarming, though so verycommon.As the evening came down, a low mist was drivingalong the sea, and the gale increased in violence. Theship tossed and strained her creaking timbers, andthrew herself down in the deep hollow of the waves, andsometimes the white spray went over her foretop, andblue water came rushing aft to the quarter-deck ladder,and rolled off in the scuppers. But the first officerwas very certain that there was enough of easterly in thewind to enable us to make a harbor at Jaffa, and we werepatient and content.Ferrajj was ill when we left Cairo, and was now so muchworse that I became alarmed about him. He was alwaysas black as the room in the great pyramid without candles, and his teeth were whiter than his eye-balls; butnow, his blackness was as deep as the same room in adark night, if that could make it, or he could be, anyblacker, and his teeth contrasted with his face in a manner that was actually frightful. I am not writing veryfeelingly about it now, but I was very anxious for thepoor fellow. He was worth his weight in gold, and wehad become attached to him, as I believe he had to us.22 HOME THOUGHTS.I wrapped him up as carefully as the circ*mstances wouldpermit, and, giving him such medicine as I thoughtproper for his case, left him to sleep. Ten minutes afterward his huge form was visible as he crawled aft with mybournoose, or Syrian cloak, which I had left near him, andwhich he knew I would want in the night air that nowcame down damp and chilling. I sent the faithful fellowback; and, throwing myself down on my carpet, underthe lee of the cabin hatchway, by the side of Miriam, whowas transformed into a bundle of shawls and cloaks, witha pair of bright eyes peeping out of it, I talked a littlewhile, and then I dreamed-not sleeping dreams-farotherwise-broad awake dreams, such as God hath inmercy granted poor humanity the power to dream.In long gone years I had sometimes thought of HolyLand. In my home in the up country, standing by myfather's knee, I had heard him tell of the hills of Jerusalem. Lying in mymother's arms, year after year, I hadslept peaceful sleep as she sang the songs of Christianstory. No other music ever lulled my young soul toslumber; and, in later years, no sound had ever half thepower to calm the storms that sometimes swept over thewastes of mylife -no other songs the " peace be still "effect those had on the waves ofsorrow.Howwell I remembered them now! Myfather's headwas white with the snows of three-score years and ten,but his footstep was as firm as mine. But, though I-I-yes, it was even so-I knew it not-I was on the borders of Canaan, my footsteps were entering Holy Landon earth, and his, far away from me, were on the bordersof the Promised Land! I was close to the Jerusalem ofthe cross, he already close to the Jerusalem of the crown-I was going to lave my weary limbs in the Jordan, hewas to lie down on the banks of the river of life-I wasto go wearily to Gethsemane and the place of death andMIRIAM.2323the sepulchre, he was passing swiftly to the presence ofthe Risen Lord.How well I remembered them! My mother's handtaught my footsteps their first essays on the sad earth;and lo! here, what far pilgrimage they had accomplished!God grant me safe return, to tell her of the hills thatare round about Jerusalem, even as the Lord is roundabout such as she!The moon rose up above the mists and shone across thestormy sea. I looked at Miriam; her eyes had closed;she was sleeping quietly and peacefully. Such alreadywas the experience of travel, that she, delicately nourishedat home, and accustomed to shrink from the least exposure, whom I always wrapped in cloaks of a summerevening when she rode out, and whose feet scarce evertouched the damp earth of America, could already lie onthe deck of a ship in a storm, with the spray flying overher, and sleep profoundly.It was no sad thought that marked my countenance asI looked at her. To have accomplished the pilgrimage toHoly Land was the realization of a hope long cherishedalmost despairingly; but now that it was accomplished, herpresence was the crowning joy. I had a pride and apleasure that I can not well make my reader a partakerof, in having successfully reached this point in our journey, which so many had prophesied we should nevercomplete. Nor was this pride and pleasure all. He whohas known in youth the delight of a beautiful scene, enhanced by the presence of one well beloved, or who inlater years has found his own keenest happiness in enjoying the happiness of those for whomhe would think thesacrifice of his entire life a very small gift, will understand what I mean when I speak of the happiness withwhich I saw my fragile little wife sleeping calmly in herbundle of shawls, on the deck of the steamer, when the24 " THE PLEASANT LAND."lookout in the foretop shouted that thrilling word, inwhatever language of earth it is uttered, but which wastenfold more thrilling now that the shore before us wasthe Holy Land."Up, Miriam! awake! -it is the Land!"She sprang to her feet, and we staggered up to theweather side, and then up to the lee rail, as the ship wentdown in the sea, but for a little while saw nothing. Andthen the mist went up, up into the sky, and the clearmoon was in the bright blue on the hills of Ephraim, andwe saw the desire ofour eyes, the Land of Promise.2.The Greek Beauty.We could not obtain pratique at night, and were compelled to wait on board the steamer until morning.The appearance of Jaffa from the sea is picturesque;but there is nothing about it sufficiently striking to impress the memory. The plain of Sharon, which here runs.along the coast, is not broken by any high hills, thoughthe ground is more uneven near the sea than a few milesinland, where it spreads out into a broad prairie- likechampagne. Jaffa itself is situated on a bluff which issomewhat higher than the land around it, and which,therefore, makes the city a commanding point in thelandscape. The sea washes the walls of the city. Thereis no harbor whatever. A reef of rocks, mostly out ofwater, runs parallel with the shore, a few hundred feetfrom it; but there is no anchorage inside for large vessels, and, indeed, no channel by which they could enter.A breakwater might be constructed, however, without asmuch expense as we have often seen given to less important places; and perhaps the day may come when Jerusalem will have a port with a safe harbor, though when thatday does come I incline to think Haifa will be selected inpreference to Jafla.There is, not far from Jaffa, a dark lake, separatedfrom the sea by a narrow bar, which it is the opinion of226 LANDING AT JAFFA.competent judges could be removed at a small expense,opening a channel for vessels to a safe and land- lockedanchorage. But the mountains between the port andthe Holy City offer a great obstacle to communication.Should the time ever come when a railway will connectJerusalem with the sea, it is apparently more practicableto direct it to the plain of Esdraelon and the outlet ofthe river Kishon, than down a grade of thirteen hundredfeet to the ancient Joppa.The shore boats were crowded alongside of the shipwhen we came on deck in the morning, and Abd- el-Attihad already commenced the disembarking of the baggage. We entered another boat, in which the Americanagent at Joppa, Mr. Murad, had come off, and in a fewmoments dashed off through a narrow channel in thereef, and up to the dirty wooden ladder, at the top ofwhich were crowded the representatives of every nationon earth, and several others, as one might well be excusedfor imagining.The din of voices was, as usual, intolerable; and it wasfor a moment quite doubtful whether we should be ableto effect a landing. But Ferrajj came up at the instant inhis boat with the baggage, and swinging a huge bag in hisbrawny arms, sent it flying up on the landing- stage intothe very faces of the crowd. It floored three, and sweptan open space, into which Whitely sprang, and was followed by the party. We now worked our way throughthe crowd, having yielded to the absolute certainty ofthe effects of that contact with oriental vagabonds, andemerged at last in the open street, under the wall of thecity, which skirts the shore. Passing along this street,and turning into one more narrow and dirty, we ascended sundry flights of steps to a house over which theAmerican flag was floating, and which we knew therebymust be the residence of the consular agent.EASTERN PORTERS. 27Accepting Mr. Murad's hospitality for the moment,while I returned to see that the baggage was safelylanded, I left Miriam in charge of Mrs. M., an exceedingly beautiful Armenian lady, and Whitely and myselfwent down the stairways, and lost ourselves, of course, inthe labyrinthine alleys, called streets in eastern cities.Without knowing it then, I inquired at the house of Simon the Tanner of ancient reputation, which was my wayto the Austrian steamer-office; but my Arabic was unintelligible to the black- eyed little girl that sat in the mud.near the door; so we pushed on till we could hear theterrible confusion of tongues at the landing, and then directed our course accordingly.We were just in time. Seven men, from as many different rum-shops, had as many separate packages on theirbacks, and in a moment more we should have been losersof six sevenths of them. For disregard of personal rightscommend me to the porters of a Mediterranean seaport.The plunder was going on at a furious rate. They appeared to imagine that all that pile had been landed fromthe steamer as a public benefit, free to all comers to selectwhat they wanted.Abd-el-Atti had gone on board to look up the campkitchen equipage, and left the goods in charge of thecook, who was a capital hand at a pasty, but a verypoor watchman among a horde of his own kind and kin.Ferrajj arrived on the spot just as we did, and while heboxed the ears of a tall Arab who had my portmanteauon his shoulders, Whitely upset a Nubian loaded withbaskets, and I made my koorbash whistle around thebare legs of a half breed Italian and Greek, who dancedfuriously as he dropped two carpet bags that he wasquite unable to explain his intentions in regard to. Idon't think the Jaffa porters were accustomed to thatsort of thing. They were, for once, most thoroughly28 HOUSE OF SIMON.polite, and when I said Vanish, they vanished, leaving uswith Hajji Mohammed and Ferrajj masters of the field,and of our own luggage.We then ordered the tents to be immediately pitchedoutside of the city walls, on a green spot near the quarantine station, overlooking the sea, and the luggage tobe conveyed to them as rapidly as might be. This completed, we had nothing to do for an hour or two but toexamine the city of Jaffa. Returning to Mr. Murad'shouse for Miriam, we walked out and through the passages, which surpassed in filth the worst parts of NewYork, and which seemed redolent of plague, until ourlittle guide informed us that we were at the house ofSimon the Tanner, and I recognized the same child sittingin the same mud-hole that I had seen an hour beforenear the entrance.The interior of the house is now transformed into asort of Mohammedan praying place, having examinedwhich, we went up to the roof where Peter dreamedof things clean and unclean.I do not know how old the tradition concerning thehouse is, but the house itself is not very ancient, and thelocality is too far up the hill to meet the requirements ofthe Scripture narrative. Simon the Tanner, resided bythe sea-side. This is by the sea- side, but elevated farabove it, and not in a locality where he would have beenapt to carry on his trade, though it is by no means certain that he lived where his work was done.It is an interesting fact, however, that in the afternoonI was walking along the sea beach, looking for shells, andat about a fourth of a mile from the city, to the southward, I found two tanneries directly on the sea-side. Iobserved that the rocks in front of them were coveredwith the water a few inches deep, and that they soakedtheir hides on these rocks, and also submitted them toAMERICAN FLAG. 29some process in the water which I did not stop to understand. Arguing from the general fact that the modern customs are like the ancient, in all matters of art , inthe East, and that it was probable that tanneries in Jaffawere conducted two thousand years ago very much asnow, I think it not unreasonable to suppose that thehouse of Simon the Tanner was situated at some suchspot as this, and literally by the sea-side.We sat for a long time on the house-top, for it was, atleast, much such a place as this on which Peter slept, andwe could look out on the sea and over the plain to thesouth-cast, but as noon approached we walked outthrough the streets to the gateway of the city opening inland, and, passing through a crowd of people occupied in buying and selling the magnificent oranges ofJaffa, which are unequaled in the world elsewhere, wewalked along the outside of the old gray south wall ofthe city to the green plot, back of the quarantine station ,and took formal possession of our tents, which were nowto be our houses and palaces for some months.The American flag was floating gayly over Miriam'stent. It was the first time, I have reason to believe, thatit had ever been seen in Syria, except guarded by officersof the American government, and I had been assuredthat it would be dangerous to attempt to use it in someparts of the country. I determined to trust its safety torevolvers, in the hands of two American travelers, supported by a half dozen Arabs who would have died forus, and Miriam volunteered, with her repeater, to help incase of need. It was never taken down from that daytill we left Syria, at Beyrout, in the late spring, exceptonce when the snows of Mount Lebanon weighed itdown and broke the staff, and it was never insulted bylook or word so far as my knowledge extended . On thocontrary, it was treated with the utmost respect by Turk30 TENT EQUIPAGE.ish officers in all parts of the Orient, and it was a sourceof pride to us to find the flag known in places where wehad no idea that the American name had penetrated.The tents were already the centre of a large crowd ofcurious natives, but a word from Ferrajj scattered them,and we had quiet to examine our prospects.The tents proved excellent. Miriam and I occupiedone, and Moreright and Whitely the other. There wasample room for four in each, and we should, perhaps,have been as comfortable had they been smaller, for airwas plenty. We had iron bedsteads and excellent bedding, while the mats which Abdul Rahman had given usin Nubia, spread on the ground, with the Persian carpetsover them, made a floor soft enough for a queen's footstep.Hajji Mohammed had his fire kindled and dinner under way. His kitchen was a long, shallow box of sheetiron, standing on six legs that folded up, and having aperforated grate- like bottom. In this he kindled a charcoal fire, and on this simple affair he cooked us royaldinners. I have eaten worse dinners in first-rate hotels athome, than he gave us from that four feet by one rangestanding in the open air. Abd-el-Atti was possessed ofa grand canteen, containing a full outfit of table-furniture, from the soup tureen to the wine glasses. This wasa present to him from some former traveler, and was invaluable for his purposes as a dragoman. There was, infact, nothing wanting to our equipment which could beimagined, even to gimlets, which being bored into thetent-poles, made pegs or hooks whereon to hang one'sdress at night. So we threw ourselves down in ourtents, with the door curtains lifted toward the sea, andlay looking out on the blue Mediterranean, westwardand homeward, while the fire burned and the servantswere busy preparing the dinner, and the crowd ofMISSIONARIES. 31Syrians stood at a distance eying us as if they had neverseen white men before, and at length the sun went toward the west.We walked out a little way to call on Mr. and Mrs.Saunders, Americans, who are resident missionaries here,under the patronage of an independent association inAmerica. They are Seventh-day Baptists. I can not hereomit expressing our admiration for Mr. and Mrs. Saunders personally, in which I am very certain that everyAmerican who visits Jaffa will cordially agree with me.Their devoted attention to us, although entire strangers,the kind-hearted and earnest character of Mrs. Saunders,her true American and New England welcome to Miriam, and her sincere and simple piety endeared her tous so that we shall not forget them while we rememberthe Holy Land.Their residence is out of the city, in an orange grove,which it is risking nothing to say has not its equal on the earth. No Sicilian or Cuban orange grove can comparewith it in luxuriance or in the size and quality ofthe fruit.The Jaffa oranges are celebrated throughout the Levant,where they fill the entire market when in season, to theexclusion of all others, except the Maltese Mandarin orYusef Effendi orange, which, though small, is a greatfavorite for its peculiar flavor and the ease with whichthe rind comes off. When we returned to the tents dinner was ready; and, while seated at it, a basket of oranges was sent to us from the Greek merchant who wasthe owner of the grove we had visited, and with it an invitation to visit his house that evening on occasion of thefeast of the betrothal of his daughter. We accepted theinvitation, and then strolled along the sea-shore, gathering shells and listening to the familiar murmurofthe waves."It breaks on the point at home, my wife! It is thesame surf that rolls by Watch-hill and Napatree, and32 JOPPA.murmurs on the rocks at the foot of the garden, and itspeaks the same language all the world over."Miriam stood looking into the west where the sun hadgone down, and her large gray eyes were full of tears, asthe old, old sound of the waves that had lulled her tosleep from childhood in her home, came up to the tentson the hill.Joppa is mentioned in 2 Chron. ii. 16, where Hiram ofTyre proposes to Solomon to furnish him wood out ofLebanon for the temple at Jerusalem, and bring it in.floats to Joppa; and again, in Ezra iii. 7, where the sameprocess is spoken of, the bringing " cedar-trees from Lebanon to the sea of Joppa. "This Joppa is, without doubt, the Japho of Joshua xix.46, over against which were the borders of Dan. It wasa city of variable governments, being sometimes in thepossession ofthe Philistines, and at others ofthe tribes ofIsrael.Jonah took ship at Joppa (Jonah i. 3) for his perilousadventures on and under water, and it is not again heardof, until, in the history of Tabitha (Acts ix. 36) , and ofPeter's residence at the house of Simon the Tanner.We dressed for the evening with as much care as ourlimited wardrobes would permit. I can not say that weshould have been admitted in New York to a weddingparty in such dress. On the contrary, I am afraid myworthy friend B- himself would have shouted for apolice-officer, and sent both Whitely and myself to theTombs, if we had ventured into his house in such guise.Some pleasant evening I propose to try him. Slippersinstead of boots, silk shawls in place of vests, long blackbeards, brown faces and tarbouches, made us somewhatsuch men as you would not like to meet of a dark evening in the avenue well up town, or even on the east sideof Broadway near Stewart's.A FEAST. 33The governor had politely ordered the gates of thetown to be opened for us; and, on our presenting ourselves before its ancient and gloomy portals, the password was exchanged, and the dark archway becamevisible as the huge old valves, looking as if they were ofthe days of Richard the Mighty, swung back on theircreaking hinges, and we passed in between the files ofthe guard.We were separated at the doorway ofthe house. Theladies went to the hareem, while we were conducted tothe gentlemen's apartments, where we found an imposingarray of old Greeks and Mohammedans, the venerablemen of Jaffa, who had outsat the guests of the day, andwere waiting to receive the foreigners.The feast was one which lasted three days, and we hadmade an error in coming so late in the evening. Had webeen earlier in the day we should have seen a greatercrowd; the ladies in the hareem informed Miriam thatthey had two hundred narghilehs in use at one timeby the ladies. But on other accounts, as will appearhereafter, it was very fortunate that we came in so late.The chief room of the suite into which we were shownwas a long chamber with raised diwans running all aroundit, broken only by the doors. The centre was vacant,except as occupied by the little pans which held thechibouk bowls and caught the ashes, or by the fragrantnarghilchs, whose bubbling murmur was often the onlysound that interrupted the silence of the room.Wine, the rich blood of the grapes of Eshcol, washanded us in tiny cups, then old delicious arrakee, andthen fruits and cakes, and jellies, and various orientaldishes in a profusion that overcame our powers of appetite.I smile now as I recall the comical appearance of oneof our party at a moment when the Greek bishop, a ven- 2*34 HOSPITALITY.erable and patriarchal man, with flowing white beard,that lay on his breast like the beard of Aaron, finished along sentence which he had addressed to him, and whichhe turned into a question at its conclusion.My unlucky friend had taken a chibouk in preferenceto the sheshee, and was smoking quietly; had he beenwise, he might have supped on the fragrance of thatdelicious Latakea; but, a rare cake of almonds, and a sliceof orange dipped in spiced wine, and a plate of delicatejellies, and sundry other exceedingly inviting articles hadtempted him until the moment that the venerable bishopconcluded his sentence, which related to the Patriarch ofthe Church, with the question, " But did you not see himin Iskandereyeh?" and the old man looked up at my friendfor a reply, and beheld him with the amber mouth-pieceof the chibouk on his lip, cach hand occupied in graspinga delicacy, and his knees motionless with a load of theprovisions of our worthy host's hospitality.No smile crossed the features of the bishop nor of hisfriends, though I am compelled to admit that we werestrongly inclined ourselves to unseemly laughter, and itrequired the calling up of all our newly-acquired orientalmanners to avoid it. My friend had paid our host thehighest compliment he could in thus accepting everything, and his compliment was evidently appreciated assuch, and acknowledged in polite phrases that would havesounded well at home.It was at this moment that a small piece of adark nightslipped into the room and around among the chibouksand narghiles to my feet, where, pressing his forehead tomy hand, he contrived to whisper to me that the "SittMiriam" wanted to see me. Supposing thereby that shewas ready to depart, I went out into the large receptionroom, but no one was there. My sable guide led on ,while I followed, strongly suspicious that the imp mightA HAREEM. 35commit an error and guide me into forbidden rooms. Iwas not far wrong. Crossing a court, down into whichthe stars shone, I followed him into a dark entry when hethrew open a door and I found myself in the holy ofholics ofan castern house, that spot forbidden to the footofman in all known ages of Moslem rule. The scene thatburst on my astonished vision was worth a journey to theOrient to see.One swift glance around the room convinced me thatit was all right, for I caught the eyes of Miriam, who wascurled up on a crimson diwan and smoking a narghile as ifshe had been brought up to it all her life, and in a momentI understood that she had managed the introduction bysome ingenuity that I could not have believed possible.In Greece the seclusion of the hareem is unknown. Butin Greek families living in Egypt or Syria it is even morestrictly enforced than by the Mohammedans themselves,for the contempt which is poured out on a Mohammedanwoman who has shown her face to men is visited tenfoldon Christians, who have difficulty in keeping their positions in the country. The footstep of a man had nevercrossed this threshold before, except of a father orbrother, and the inhabitants of this retreat shrank atfirst in terror from having their faces seen by a stranger.It was by adroit management, by proposing it as afrolic, working up their curiosity, and pledging eternalsecrecy and instant departure from the country, thatMiriam had persuaded them to consent to send for me,and they secured the old man's permission on the groundof the universal love of Greeks for Americans, and so Iwas sent for and so I came.The scene in the room when I entered was worthy apainter's presence. The mother of the family, seated ona pile of cushions, was a woman of splendid beauty, andher daughters were like their mother. Her young sister,36 A GREEK MAIDEN.a girl of twenty-two or three, and her niece, a girl ofseventeen, were standing near her, while their Nubianslaves, slender and graceful women, black as night butnot thick-lipped, having rather the features of the Shellalee of Egypt, and in form and face models of grace andbeauty, waited on their beautiful mistresses. A troop ofchildren, with large black eyes, dressed like fairies, greetedmy entrance with a shout of welcome, and for a momentI hesitated to enter a place sacred not only by orientalcustom against such a visit, but sacred especially by thepresence of so much magnificent beauty, not before exposed to the eye ofa stranger.But the unsurprised look of Miriam and of Mrs. andMiss Saunders reassured me, and I advanced with asmuch courage as could be expected of a somewhat diffident American in an castern hareem.Often since then, in still and quiet evenings, when Iremember the incidents of my castern travel, the face ofthat radiant Greek girl comes before me like a vision ofthe unreal beauties of paradise.I never saw a woman half so beautiful. She was thefirst and last one that I saw abroad whom I thoughtequal to the American standard of female beauty; andsho was a star.She was reclining on the diwan, half buried in itscushions, with her arm around Miriam's neck, telling her,in all the rich oriental phrases she could invent, of her lovefor her newly-found sister.I will endeavor, for the sake of my lady readers, andwith Miriam's assistance, to describe her dress, whichwasalmost a fac-simile of the dresses of four other ladies inthe room, whose inferior beauty must excuse my leavingthem to sketch their splendid companion.Firstly she wore that part of the Turkish lady's dresswhich we should call the trowsers, known by them as theTHE BEAUTY. 37shintiyan, and a very different affair from the pantaloonswhich the American ladies'-rights ladies argue so much infavor of. They are necessarily more cumbersome thanthe ordinary European style of dress, being enormouslyheavy folds of silk stuff, embroidered with heavy goldthread, gathered at the ankles with gold and jeweledbands. Those of which I now speak were of rose-coloredsilk, and the little feet that were quite hidden in the foldsas they fell around it when she walked, were covered with.velvet slippers, embroidered with seed pearls.The yellak, a sort of open dress that falls in a long trainbehind and is fastened only at the waist, falling away soas to leave the shintiyan visible, is I believe not worn byunmarried ladies, but she had a similar dress, of the samerose- colored silk, richly embroidered . Alow chemisette,with embroidered front and sleeves, left almost the entirebust exposed; and a velvet jacket, heavy with goldthread and jewels, completed the rich and gorgeous costume.But the dress, although of the most costly fabrics ofthe Damascus looms, was as nothing compared with thejewels that flashed from her wrists, and neck, and hair.Over her left shoulder, hanging like a sash down tothe right side of her waist, was a golden girdle or band,made of broad pieces of gold, shaped like willow leaves,and fastened together at the sides. The belt of the yellak and shintiyan, which is ordinarily a cashmere shawl(known vulgarly in America as camels' hair), was silk,gathered at the side with a star of brilliants. On herarms were jeweled serpents; and the only covering ofher bosom, which was exposed, as I have said, consisted ofstrings of pearls that lay across it, each string shorterthan the one above it, and whose whiteness was rivaledby the neck they adorned.Her hair was bound together under a small cap of38 A WITNESS .crimson velvet, that rested only on the back of her head,and of which the velvet was but the material on whichwere clustered as many pearls and diamonds as, I remarkedto Miriam, would purchase all the jewelry that the mostgorgeous New York saloon could exhibit in a crowdedevening assembly.I have described the lady's costume as literally as Ican for the benefit of my lady readers; but I thoughtlittle of her costume then, when I was looking at hersplendid beauty. Miriam was in ecstasy herself, and wouldinterrupt her caresses constantly by turning to me withthe demand, " Is n't she beautiful?"Her hair was black as the clouds of a December night,and swept away from a fine forehead, in heavy tresses.Her face was no cold Greck countenance. It was full oflife and passion; her eyes black, and flashing with fun;the red blood tingling close under the skin through hercheeks, and sometimes flushing her forehead with an exquisite glow; her lips were red and laughing; her chinthe smallest imaginable; and her form slender, yet fulland graceful as the forms of dream-land.I know that I am liable to the charge of exaggerationin my description of this scene, and that Whitely andMoreright will assure inquirers after my truthfulness thatthey do not believe a word of it. I am sorry to say thatmy otherwise conscientious friends were so envious of mysuccess in this instance, and so much annoyed at my frequent reference to it when they grew eloquent on thesubject of beauties they had seen, that they are not likelyto be candid witnesses. I am, therefore, glad of onefriend to whom I may appeal for my accuracy.Miriam had, as we came from the tents, laughingly asserted her intention of procuring me admission to thehareem, and I had pledged myself to one of the gentlemen that if I entered he should go as well.PERFUMED NARGHILEIS. 39Mr. De Leon's high position with the Greeks, which heearned by his noble conduct when they were threatenedwith expulsion from Egypt, made his name a sort ofhousehold word with them in all parts of the Levant;and having broken the ice by allowing my presence,there was no difficulty in procuring the assent of theladies to admitting one whom they knew so well to be aman of honor, and a friend to their countrymen.The same imp of darkness was dispatched to bringhim; and when he came, the fun of the whole thing wascomplete, and the fair prisoners, as romance has calledthem, seemed to be delighted with the novelty of theircompany.The old man, who had come in, entered into their joycompletely, and looked on with smiling face for a fewmoments before he returned to his guests in the otherpart of the house. He left us to a rattling conversationwith the fair ladies, in which my Arabic was amply sufficient formy purposes, since they did all the talking, and constantly repeated their warnings that we were not to revealin Jaffa the fact that we had seen their countenances.Narghilehs, on which they placed perfume- wood fromMecca, were renewed as constantly as we finished them;and coffee and a host of delicacies were, from time totime, presented by the slave-girls, who seemed to enterinto their mistresses' enjoyment most keenly.When we rose to go, and I am bound to admit thehour would have been thought late even in America,they would scarcely permit Miriam to leave them, butagain and again embraced her, and kissed her on eachcheck, and on her lips, while the Nubians would seizeher at the same instant from behind, with one handon each side, and give her a sympathetic squeeze in accordance with each kiss of their fair mistresses. Welefther with them while we stepped back into the room40 THE TENTS.among the men, where the smoke was so thick that I donot think our absence had been noted.The little old bishop was still talking about the patriarch, the wine and the coffee circulating as before; andin a few moments we took leave of our kind host withsincere respect for his hospitality.He, and his son, and the entire party, not exceptingthe bishop, rose when we rose, and accompanied us to thedoor, and then to the street, and then up and down thenarrow, winding streets of Jaffa; nor did they leave ustill we roused the sleepy guard at the gloomy gateway,and walked out into the glorious moonlight, that fell onthe walls of the city with that strange effect that moonlight has on ancient piles of stone, and more beautifullystill on the white tents that stood on the hill above thesea.The tall form of Ferrajj stood waiting for us as we approached them. A picket of horses had been established near us, in accordance with our published orders,that we wished the finest horses in the country to bebrought to us for selection the next morning. A deepand regular sound from the kitchen tent indicated thatHajji Mohammed had done with the labors of the day,and with a gay good-night we sought our several beds.How gloriously, how deeply, serenely and profoundly weslept that first night of our tent life, on the soundingshore of the classic sea, in the Holy Land.THE GOLDEN GATE, EXTERIOR VIEWON MOUNT MORIAI.

3.The Joy of the whole Earth.THE dash of the sea, rolling in before a stiff northwester, awoke me at day-break, and I ran down thebank for a plunge in the blue and white surf before thesun should have kissed off the freshness of the foambeads. The gray old walls of the city came out instrong lights and shades as the dawn advanced. Istrolled along the trench to the great gate, and recalledwith some degree of case, now that all was sombre andsilent, that brave old time when Richard of the stoutheart, alone, with his strong arm, put to flight the Saracen hosts before the walls of Jaffa.When I returned to the tents, Hajji Mohammed waskindling his charcoal fire for breakfast, and the scenearound them was busy and active.I had directed horses to be brought for our inspection,the selection of these being the most important matter incommencing a Syrian tour. They had assembled, white,brown, and bay, halt and lame, sore-eyed and sorebacked, the sorriest- looking drove of horses that Christianeyes ever rested on. There was one blear- eyed nag thatmade you weep for sympathy if you looked into his face,so overpowering was its melancholy, and there wasanother that did not touch his near hind foot to theground when he walked, but his owner could not per-42 BREAKING UP THE CAMP.ceive that he was in the slightest degree lame. He admitted, on close questioning, that the animal had beenlame formerly, but he assured me he was cured of itperfectly.For our party we should need, beside the horses thatwe rode ourselves, not less than ten or fifteen mulesto carry the baggage and tents, and it soon became manifest that Jaffa , could furnish nothing that was at all toour purposes. We might find what would answer as faras Jerusalem, but not for the long journey we had inprospect. There was not one in this crowd that I wouldhave taken for, a gift, and telling Abd- el-Atti to makewhat arrangements he pleased with them, but no furtherthan Jerusalem, Whitely and myself went down to thebeach for a stroll, and came up in fine condition forbreakfast and the road. But the first start was not soeasy a matter, and while the Arabs wrangled about theprices of the beasts, we walked into the town again, andthrough the crowded bazaar, just inside the gate, wherewe endeavored to find something to purchase as a memorial of Jaffa. But we found nothing, and were obligedto content ourselves with the flowers that Miriam hadgathered on our camp ground, and pressed in a littleflower-press, which was her last gift at parting from JocWillis.At length the calvalcade was ready The tents werestruck, the camels which Abd- el-Atti had chosen, in preference to the sorry mules of Jaffa, for our baggage, haddeparted, and where a few moments before our villagehad been, now was a green spot, with a half dozen saddled horses waiting their riders. They had not long towait. Looking back for a moment over the blue sea,somewhat longingly I will not deny, for who could tellwhat might occur before we should see its waves again,or who of us might never come back from the far wander-PLAIN OF SHARON. 43ings, to Nineveh and Bagdad, that we expected to go on,we sprang into our saddles and went off, a gay cavalcade,at a rattling canter, through the winding paths betweenthe hedges of prickly pear and the orange groves, on theroad to Jerusalem.We soon emerged from the gardens that surround thecity, and found ourselves on the broad plain of Sharon,which comes down from the north, and loses itself in thedesert hills near Gaza. Overtaking the camels, whowere lounging along in a straggling train, we passedthem and pressed on. It was vain to look for roses here.The plain was under cultivation, but no bushes of anykind grew on it. The crimson anemone, which aboundsthroughout the East, covered the ground in all directions, while here and there large tufts of the leaves ofsome species of lily gave promise of future flowers notyet in bloom. The people were plowing their fields, andin more than a dozen instances we saw an ox yoked witha donkey before the plough. Our spirits were excellent.We dashed off at full gallop across the plain, occasionallyturning out of the road to ascend a knoll and get a distant view. So we continued on until we saw in the distance the tower and village of Ramleh, which was threehours from Jaffa. Before reaching them, however, weagain left the level plain, and found ourselves in grovesof olives, passing through hedges of prickly pear, highover which the tower was visible.When within a half mile of the village we made adetour across a ploughed field and through an olivegrove to the foot of the tower, which has been a source ofmuch speculation to antiquarians.This lofty and commanding structure stands in thenorth-west corner of a large space, surrounded with wallson its four sides, under which we found subterrancanvaults of substantial structure, the whole place appearing44 RAMLE H.much like a fortified khan; an idea which received additional weight from the fact that this place has alwaysbeen on the great caravan route between Egypt andDamascus. Whatever its original purposes, it is manifestthat the pious Mussulmans did not forget their religion inits construction, and the conveniences usually found inmosks for directing the prayers of the faithful towardМесса.The tower itself is square, of Saracenic architecture,gracefully as well as substantially built. A winding staircase within it, much dilapidated but still amply secure forour ascent, enabled us to reach the ruined battlements,high up above the plain of Ramleh, where, seated on thecrumbling and almost tottering stones of the wall, welooked out for a half hour in intense delight on one ofthemost beautiful of views. The hills of Ephraim and Judahbounded the view on the east, and the blue Mediterranean formed the horizon below which the sun wouldsoon descend. The plain of Sharon, beautiful in traditionand holy story, lay below us, and around us, stretchingfar away northward to the neighborhood of Ashdod, andeven to Gaza, in the land of the Philistines.Directly at our feet lay the village of Er-Ramleh (thesand-bank), a name for which I in vain seek a derivationor a reason. Other travelers have stated it , in generalterms, as derived from the sandy soil; but my observation was directly the reverse of this. The soil was lesssandy than other parts of the plain. Built chiefly ofstone, and whitewashed, as are all the principal villages ofSyria, its domes and minarets shone cheerfully in the raysof the evening sun among groves of olive and densethickets ofthe prickly pear, while here and there a statelypalm towered above the surrounding vegetation, like arelic of the ancient days, sublime, solemn, and exceedinglybeautiful.CONSULAR AGENTS. 45The scarcity of timber of all kinds, in Syria, has led tothe adoption of the arch for supporting stone floors andstone roofs throughout the country; and hence the prevalent style of roof is that which consists of small domes,built entirely of stone, of which one covers cach smallroom, and several are necessary to the covering of onelarge chamber. Thus, a house of ordinary size, will beroofed over with six or eight such domes, and oftentimeswith many more. The result is, that a village or citypresents an aspect to a stranger totally different from anything he has before seen. We had, of course, observedthis in Jaffa, but it was now especially manifest in Ramleh, looking down on it as we did from the high tower.But our eyes were especially attracted to a sight alwayswelcome, the world over, namely, the American flagfloating in the breeze, and lit by the rays of the decliningsun, over the domes of much the most imposing- lookingbuilding in the place, not even excepting the Latin convent. That this was the residence of the American consular agent was quite manifest; but, I confess, that although my heart beat faster when I saw the flag, it didnot warm at all to the house or the people below.A satisfactory experience in the East convinces me thatan American consular agent-I speak ofsuch agents as arenow found in various parts of the East-is useful but forone purpose: to mislead the traveler, and absorb a certain portion of his money. This is the fault of the system.Natives accept the office, because it affords them full andcomplete protection against their own government. NoTurkish official dare lay his hands on the purse or theperson of a consular agent of any foreign power. Receiving no pay from the government they represent, andbeing really of no earthly use to travelers or any one,they manage to press some service on the unluckystranger who falls into their hands, for which they ex-46 LYDDA.tract from him a bucksheesh in proportion to the nationalfeeling they succeed in arousing in his mind. Longbefore this time I had issued strict orders to Abd- el-Atti,that, on entering any place that was honored as theresidence of an American consular agent, he shouldrepresent me as a Hindoo, Japanese, Sandwich Islander,or any thing but an American, if so be I might be savedfrom the annoying demands on my purse, and still moreannoying attentions.Therefore, as I said, the American flag did not lead meto desire shelter under its protection, but, rather thereverse, made me fear the usual demand on my temperand charity.But the view of the plain of Sharon was still beforeus, and we could not, without pain, tear ourselves awayfrom it.About five miles to the north of us lay a little village,which we learned was known among the natives as Ludd,and which there is no reason to doubt is the ancient Lydda.At present it is remarkable only as containing the ruinsof one of the grand churches of old times, that of St.George, the saint of merrie England and of stories innumerable, whose birth-place and burial-place were atLydda, where, in times unknown, they built a shrine, andburned incense over his dust, and where, in later years,the shrine had fallen into decay, and a Moslem minaretwas built in the blue air, which was now the chief objectvisible from the tower at Ramleh. As the sun declinedyet more, our eyes followed his rays, and we lookedeagerly and longingly to the hills of Ephraim. Rightthere away, where the path left the plain and enteredthe mountain gorge, was the road to Jerusalem, andthither our hearts went forth most earnestly. It washard to wait for the morning, to continue on, and evenMiriam, wearied and tired with the first day's travel,MONKS OF HOLY LAND . 47volunteered to go on that night, and see the sun rise overOlivet.But this was impossible, for various reasons, and atlength, reluctantly closing our eyes on the view that hadso long kept us on this high point, we descended thesteps, and mounting our horses in the court or inclosure,rode out on the east side among the tombs of the Mohammedans.A solitary Latin monk from the convent, walking nearthe tower and musing in the evening light, directed usin the shortest path. We rode down a gentle slopebetween dense hedges of the prickly pear and stopped atthe door of the Latin convent where we had directedAbd- el-Atti to arrange our beds for the night.Throughout Holy Land the convents are open to thereception ofguests, and the hospitality of the monks ofall denominations deserves everlasting record. I haveheard and read remarks on the subject of this hospitalitywhich many travelers have ascribed to love of the moneywhich all leave in payment for their lodging. But I bearmy testimony most cheerfully to the courtesy and kindness of the monks of the Holy Land. I found the Latinmonks everywhere noble men, full of good works andhumble piety. Nor had I ever occasion to think theirkindness to me, often as I experienced it, proceeded fromany other motive other than their pure good-will and accustomed benevolence. I paid liberally, it is true, but nottill I was leaving them, and it was then a pure gratuity,which was never asked for. I have no doubt that mymoney, with that of all other pilgrims who were able topay, went to the sustenance of poorer pilgrims who werefainting on their march to the Sepulchre.The convents are provided with vacant rooms, andmany of them with beds and bedding. They are generally kept scrupulously clean, and the Latin convents are48 HOUSE OF MARCUS.always so. This at Ramleh was positively inviting in itscool clean court-yard and white-washed cells. I enviedthe monks that were walking up and down in its old.shades.We rapped on the gate with our whip-handles. Thedoor opened, but our party were not here, and we learnedthat they had gone on to the house of Matta Abud Marcus, the American agent, where we had seen the American flag flying.Werode on and found them there, already in possessionof Marcus's upper chambers.All the houses in Palestine are built on the same general plan, and doubtless on the ancient plan. The building surrounds a court. The ground floor rooms are usedfor kitchens, stables, and general offices. A stairway inthe open air leads to a terrace, or a broad platform, whichis, perhaps, the ancient " house-top" of which we read sooften, and around which the various rooms of the familyopen.Above the terrace on the house of Marcus, the flag wasfloating. We entered a large room, thirty feet square,and surrounded with diwans, and sat down to chibouksand coffee. Our host, as American agent, claimed theprivilege of receiving us as his guests, and had broughtthe party there, having gone out of the village to meetthem. We yielded with proper grace, though I confessmy heart yearned for the clean, cool rooms of the convent, and there was not as much promise of dinner hereas would have been if Hajji Mohammed were commanderin the kitchen. But to the credit of our host be it said,he did every thing possible to make us feel at home, andwe soon accommodated ourselves to the quarters in whichwe found ourselves.The view from the terrace was exceedingly beautifulwhen the sun went down. We gathered here to enjoyNIGHT AND FLEAS. 49it. The flag was taken down, and as it lay on the pavement we found on it this inscription:"Presented to Ahbout Montas, Esq. , U. S. Vice Consul at Ramleh,by the officers of the U. S. squadron off Jaffa, as a slight return for hisattention shown them on their going and returning from Jerusalem,September 25th, 1836.Abud Marcus, whose name was here written Montas,was the father of our present host, and the flag hadbeen well preserved, being exhibited only when Americans were in the neighborhood.I had one ofthe bedsteads unpacked for Miriam's bed,to be made up in one of the small rooms, and I threwmyself down on my carpet in the corner. The othergentlemen occupied diwans in the large rooms, with blankets and quilts. I fought the fleas all night and caughtsome interrupted moments of sleep, but for the most parthad a wretched night of it. Mark's intentions were goodenough, but his hospitality was rather a failure.Long before the morning came over the eastern hills Ihad left my uncomfortable bed to the fleas that enjoyedit apparently better than I, and throwing open the woodenshutter of the eastern window, which like all the othersin the house was destitute of glass, sat in the cool soft airand gazed at the morning-star which, more brilliant thanever before to my eyes, hung in the cast above Jerusalem.As the dawn came I heard a commotion in the otherroom, and Whitely's voice in phrases that left no doubtwhatever in my mind that there were fleas in other roomsas well as in mine. In a few moments we were all gathered on the terrace from which our various rooms opened,and the cool air and soft light of the setting moonrevived us more than had our troubled sleep.And now a tremendous row in the lower apartments,in which I recognized Abd- el- Atti's voice above all others,850 A CURIOUS COINCIDENCE.indicated that something was out of order there, and thatI should very soon have a difficulty of some kind to adjustamong my interesting family of Arabs. The voice soonapproached the stairway, and at length the Egyptian cameup in a small tempest.Abud Marcus had taken us in the night before, and thedragoman insisted that he had done it in both senses. Hehad promised most faithfully to see that all our camelsand horses were cared for for the night, and trusting it tohim we had given them no attention. This morning fiveof the camels were missing, with their drivers, and theonly answer that he could obtain to his inquiries aboutthem was that, being left in the street over night they haddeserted us, a course not unlikely, since they had beenpaid in advance for the previous day's work and a partof to-day's. But a more diligent inquiry satisfied Abd- elAtti that Marcus had discharged them himself, tellingthem that they were not wanted any longer and might goabout their business.It was, to say the least of it , very remarkable, that onmy exhibiting some dissatisfaction on the subject, Marcusdeclared that he was possessed of just five camels, whichwere ready at the door, and which were at my servicowithout fee or reward, and whose acceptance he urgedon us with all the eagerness of an oriental offering aservice for which he is well assured the traveler will repayhim more than it is worth.This incident decidedly diminished the cordiality ofour parting with our host, and getting into the saddlewith no little impatience we rode through the dirty bazaarof Ramleh, and out at the eastern side of the village,where we struck into a gallop for a few moments, hopingthereby to get up our spirits and good temper before sunrise, a hope that was effectually dashed by observing theaddition of a person to our party who proved to be theEMMAUS. 51cawass ofthe American consulate, to wit of Abud Marcus,who accompanied us in full nizam uniform, with jingling sabre, until he had extracted as many dollars from thevarious gentlemen as he could persuade them were due tothe dignity of the official he represented, and which, inaddition to the gold we had given to Marcus himself"for the servants," made the night's entertainment costus somewhat more than it would at Morley's in London,and then, to our infinite relief, left us to pursue our waytoward Jerusalem, attended by the American agent inJerusalem, a brother of Mr. Murad of Jaffa, to whosetender mercies I warned Abd- el-Atti in no case to subjectme in the Holy City.As the morning advanced we continued to cross theplain of Sharon, but at length entered the wide pass ofthe mountains of Ephraim, up which the road ascends, andwhich introduced us for the first time to Syrian horsepaths. Of these we had enough before many days wereover.Before entering the gorge of the hills, we passed, atabout three hours from Ramleh a village on the top of ahill at the right of the path, looking more indeed like aruin than a village, which is known by the Arabs asLatrone, a name evidently given by the Latin monks, whohave long designated it as the birth-place of the penitentthief. Wo remarked nothing here so much as the exquisite blossoms of the white and purple cyclamen amongthe rocks at our roadside, which we afterward found ingreat quantities throughout Syria.Latrone has been sometimes called Emmaus, and wasindeed the castle of Emmaus, which latter place we nowsaw on our left a little way from the road.It is a small mud village, with nothing to mark the deepinterest with which all Christians regard it. It is nowcalled Emmouse.52 VALLEY OF AJALON.The difficulty which others have found in admitting thislocality consists in its great distance from Jerusalem. Eusebius and Jerome in the fourth century had no difficultyin fixing on this site, and the tradition of the church hasbeen unbroken and invariable since.The opinion seems to have great force that there is anomission in the text of Luke who (Luke, xxiv. 13) describes Emmaus as threescore furlongs from Jerusalem .Some of the manuscripts read " one hundred and threescore," which is about the distance ofthe site we are nowspeaking of.(Since I wrote this chapter, Dr. Robinson's last volumehas been published. With his accustomed learning andability he reviews the various authorities and arrives atthe conclusion, that the Emmaus of Luke and the Emmouse of this day are identical . His reasoning is such thatno one can hesitate to consider his opinion satisfactory.)After we had passed Emmouse, and ascended and descended, climbed rocks and stumbled down precipices, wefound ourselves in the valley of Ajalon, at a little distancefrom Yalo, which retains thus much of the ancient name.I was impressed here with an idea which had frequentlybefore occurred to me, that there is a certain inconsistencyin the account of the miracle of Joshua performed overthis valley. The direction to the sun, " Stand thou stillon Gibeon," would imply that the sun was to the eastward of him, for Gibeon was far to the cast. But thetime was afternoon, if we may judge from the account ofthe battle. I believe it has been suggested that the account of this miracle is an interpolation in the text, anda careful reading of it, I think, indicates that it has notthe same authorship with what precedes and follows it.Of the perils of that road, I can not sufficiently speak.I had done some rough traveling on foot and in the saddle, but I never had seen the parallel of this. The path,PILGRIMS AT LAST. 53if so it may be called , lay for many miles up the dry bedofa mountain torrent, filled with round stone and ruggedrocks, so that it may be stated as almost literally true,that from the plain of Sharon to the gates of Jerusalem,our horses' feet were never on the soil, and seldom onfirm , solid rock. Whitely's horse had one bad fall, andI avoided the same fate by walking over the place wherehe fell. I kept an Arab on each side of Miriam to catchher in case her horse lost his footing, and we thus had ourinitiation in Syrian roads. At one point we descended arocky hill some three hundred feet on the broken rock,the horses often going down steps which no Americanhorse would have ventured on, and which were not alittle trying to American nerves.We halted for luncheon at a beautiful spot on a hillside, near a well in a grove of olives on a bank coveredwith wild-flowers.Pleasantest of all recollections ofour journeyings alongthe way, are those halts that we always made at noondayfor luncheon, when we lay down on the grass by the sidoof a well, or sat under the shadow of a great rock, or selected the highest point of a hill-road, whence, recliningfor an hour to rest our weary limbs, we could look offover vast expanses of the holy soil."Bucksheesh, O Hajji!" shouted a group of boys onthe top of the next hill. Yea, verily we had arrived atthat dignity, and were pilgrims. I straightened myselfin my saddle as I felt this new title.I regret that the loss of my notes of this day's journeyforbids my locating places accurately here, and obligesme also to pass by without notice a number of cisternsand wells which I examined in the valleys, and amongothers a large cistern known by the Arabs as the well ofAyub, a name that I found at several other places in Syria,and which is as likely to have been derived from somo54 VALLEY OF ELAH.modern sheik, or possibly the great head of the Ayubites,as from the ancient Joab, or more ancient Job.As we approached Kuriet- el- Enab, a substantial stonevillage, renowned as the residence of Abu Goash, theformer collector of tribute from travelers on this route,and the terror of Jerusalem and its neighborhood, we sawa fine, large church, of ancient Christian times, standingjust out of the village, and turning aside from our road,which went along the north side of the wady, we rodedirectly into its doorway, and sat on horseback in thevery aisle of the building. It was a grand old place ofChristian worship, with crypts under it, which we examined afterward, and although windows and doors weregone, and cattle occupied it in place of Christian worshipers, yet on the walls were the images of saints, and thememory of the prayers of saints lingered in its loftyarches, and impressed us solemnly us we came from it.Some one told us that this was the birth-place of theprophet Jeremiah. It was formerly the seat of a Latinconvent in connection with the church whose desertedwalls we invaded.We paused a little while again in the valley of Elah,and gathered a few pebbles in the dry bed of the brookwhere David found his weapons with which to meet thegiant of the Philistines, and then, every thing that wasbehind and around us faded in interest as we began torealize that from the summit of the hill before us ourweary eyes would rest on the walls of Jerusalem.We pressed our horses rapidly up the steep hill, by azig-zag path, which in our haste we sometimes cut across,and thereby nearly broke our own and our horses' necks inseveral instances. There was a party of Latin nuns, onsleek and beautiful horses, riding slowly before us. Wepassed them at a rattling gallop, and hastened on, up therough path, now over masses of loose, rolling stones, onDEUS VULT! 55which our horses could with difficulty find footing for ahalf mile, and as a cold wind swept over the bleak anddesolate hills, wrapped our cloaks around us and drew ourhoods closely over our faces. The appearance of everything was desolate in the extreme. For many miles, wehad seen no evidences of human existence. Wild rockswere everywhere, ragged and fierce in their utter barrenness, and hill and valley were alike apparently cursedwith the curse of God.At length there was a short space where the road admitted of a gallop, our horses plunging over the stonesand finding footing as none but Syrian horses could, andhere S , and Whitely, and myself pressed forward, asswiftly as the zig- zag path, winding around rocks, andturning short to the right or to the left, or often even inan acute angle backward, would permit. Reaching thesummit of the ascent, we beheld a distant view of desolate mountains, lit in the rays of the setting sun, withdark, wild gorges between them, all tending downwardto a deep valley, wherein we knew must lie the Dead Sca.But we could not yet see the city of our desires.A few steps forward, our worn-out horses stumblingrather than galloping over the rocky path, and a hill,crowned with a mosk and minaret, was before us in thedistance, which my heart knew by instinct was the mountain of the Ascension . I raised myself in my stirrups and,turning to Miriam, shouted, " The Mount of Olives!" andwaved my hand toward it-and then, as I looked again,before me, in all their glory and majesty, I beheld, magnificent in the light of the setting sun, the walls of Jerusalem.I had thought of that moment for years, in waking andin sleeping dreams. I had asked myself a hundred times,"What will you do when your weary eyes rest on theseholy walls?" Sometimes I thought I should cry out56 JERUSALEM.aloud as did pilgrims of old times, and sometimes that Ishould kneel down on the road as did the valiant men whomarched with Godfreyand withRichard. But I did neither.My horse stopped in the road, as if he knew that allour haste had been for this, and I murmured to myself,"Deus vult," and my eyes filled with tears, and throughthem I gazed at the battlements and the towers and minarets of the city. One by one the party rode up, andeach in succession paused.There were our Mohammedan servants, a Latin monkwho had joined us a little way back, two Armenians, anda Jew in our cortège, beside ourselves, who were Prottesants and all alike gazed with overflowing eyes onthat spot, toward which the longing hearts of so manymillions of the human race turn daily with devout affection. We spoke no word aloud. One rushing wave ofthought swept over all our souls.I stood in the road, my hand on my horse's neck, andwith my dim eyes sought to trace the outlines of the holyplaces which I had long before fixed in my mind, but thefast flowing tears forbade my succeeding. The more Igazed, the more I could not see; and at length, gathering close around my face the folds of my coufea, I spranginto the saddle, and led the advance toward the gates ofthe city.As we approached the northernmost corner of the wallwe met a sallying party of Jerusalem hotel-keepers, whowere as vociferous in their recommendations of their various inns as New York cab-drivers.We had sent Abd-el-Atti forward to secure a placewhere we should find clean and comfortable rooms, in theconvent ofthe Terra Santa, or in the Armenian Convent,to the bishop of which church I had recommendatory letters-or, which I preferred, by finding a new and unoccupied house in the city.OUR HIRED HOUSE. 57He succeeded to admiration, and finding a neat, cleanhouse with plenty of rooms, which Antonio Zammit hadrebuilt, and was just opening under the imposing title of"English Hotel, " he contracted with Antonio to giveus the entire establishment, and install Hajji Mohammedin the kitchen, so long as we should remain in Jerusalem.Before reaching the corner of the city wall we turnedto the left, and instead of entering the Jaffa gate, passedunder the north wall to the Damascus gate, whose ancientand gloomy arch stood open to receive us.The house of Antonio was on the Via Dolorosa, a fewpaces from the house of Dives and the house of Lazarus,next door but one to the house of Veronica, and not veryfar distant from the Arch of Judgment. Dismountingat the doorway, we entered most willingly, for we werebythis time well- nigh exhausted, and our limbs were gladin every inch of them to find repose.3*4.Gethsemane.THE first morning in Jerusalem was a time forever tobe remembered. When the sun came up above theMount of Olives, I was standing, on the eastern side ofthe city, without the walls, on the brow of the valley ofJehoshaphat, looking down into its gloomy depths and upto the hill that was hallowed by the last footsteps ofChrist.I could not sleep. It was vain to think of it or attemptit. Broken snatches of slumber, dreamy and restless atthe best, but mostly broad awake thoughts, fancies, feelings, and memories occupied the entire night. Wearyand exhausted as I was by the previous day's travel, Icould not compose my mind sufficiently to take the restI actually required.It was but a little after the break of day that I strolleddown to the gate of St. Stephen (so called now, thoughformerly known as the gate of the Lady Mary, becauseof its leading to the Virgin's tomb) , and finding it openalready, passed out among the Moslem graves that coverthe hill of Moriah, outside the walls, and sitting down onone of them, waited in silence the coming of the sun.And it came.I had seen the dawn come over the forest of the Delaware country, in the sublime winter morningsSUNRISE OVER OLIVET."When last night's snow hangs lightly on the trees,And all the cedars and the pines are whiteWith the new glory. "59I had seen the morning come up over the prairies ofMinnesota, calm and majestic along the far horizon . Ihad seen it in golden glory on the sea, in soft splendor inItaly, in rich effulgence over the Libyan desert.But I never saw such a morning as that before nor shallI ever see another such in this cold world.At first there was a flush, a faint but beautiful light likea halo, above the holy mountain. Right there-away layBethany, and I could think it the radiance of the burstingtomb of Martha's brother. But the flush became a gleam,a glow, an opening heaven of deep, strong light that didnot dazzle nor bewilder. I looked into it and was lost init, as one is lost that gazes into the deep loving eyes ofthewoman he worships. It seemed as if I had but to wishand I should be away in the atmosphere that was so glorious. Strong cords of desire seemed drawing me thither.I even rose to my feet and leaned forward over the carvedturban on a Mussulman's tomb. I breathed strong, fullinspirations as if I could breathe in that glory.All this while, deep in the gloom of the valley betweenme and the Mount of Ascension lay the Hebrew dead ofall the centuries, quiet, calm, solemn in their slumber.The glory did not reach down to their low graves; yet Ithought almost aloud, that if that radiance could but oncetouch those stones, heavy as they were, the dead wouldspring to life, even the doubly dead who lie in that valleyoftombs.Alas for the dead whose grave the morning radiancefrom the mountain of the Lord's ascension will neverreach! Alas for the sealed lips of earth that will neverbe kissed to opening by those rays!Then came the round sun; it seemed but an instant60 TOMB OF MARY.after the morning-star had sunk into the blue, and thenthe full sunlight poured across the hills of Judea, on thebattlements ofJerusalem.Then once more I bowed my head. It is no shame tohave wept in Palestine. I wept when I saw Jerusalem,I wept when I lay in the starlight at Bethlehem, I wepton the blessed shores of Galilee. My hand was no lessfirm on the rein, my finger did not tremble on the trigger of my pistol when I rode with it in my right handalong the shore of the blue sea. My eye was not dimmedby those tears, nor my heart in aught weakened. Lethim who would sneer at my emotion close this volumehere, for he will find little to his taste in my journeyingsthrough Holy Land.Miriam and Whitely followed me when the morning wasa little more advanced, and found me, as we had appointed.We descended the hill by the path which leads from thogate of St. Stephen to the bottom of the valley, and crossing the bed of the brook Kedron ascends the Mount ofOlives by the side of the garden of Gethsemane.The reader can not need to be told that there are nocarriage-ways and no wheeled-vehicles in Syria. Theroads are but paths, therefore, and the descent of the hillson both sides of the valley of Jehoshaphat would be muchtoo steep for carriages if there were any in the city.The brook Kedron exists only in rainy weather. Itwas dry during all the time of my visit to Jerusalem,though there was abundant evidence in its bed of therapidity of the torrent in rainy seasons. Crossing thebrook we found ourselves at the entrance of the traditionarytomb of the Virgin Mary.This is a subterranean chapel, the door of which opensin a sunken court, perhaps sixty feet square. In heavyrains the court is apt to be partly filled with water, thedrainage not being perfect. Descending into this court,TOMB OF MARY. 61the stranger perceives the low church or chapel, frontingthe south, and the huge black doors opening on the verytop of a broad flight of stone steps, which descend intothe earth or rock some twenty-five or thirty feet. I haveno measurement here, and speak but from recollection.On the left and right of this flight of steps, about half waydown, are two niches, or small chapels in the rock, thaton the right supposed to contain the tombs of Joachimand Anne, while in that on the left reposed formerly thebones of Joseph the carpenter. The foot of the steps isthe floor of the chapel, fronting to the castward, and litwith many lamps, not a few of silver and gold which hungfrom the roof. The shrine or high altar covers the supposed spot ofthe Virgin's tomb. These were beautifullydecorated, as indeed we found all the holy places in Jerusalem, with fresh and fragrant flowers, hyacinth and lavender chiefly abounding.We met a Greek monk who had been celebratingmorning prayers alone in the chapel, and who willingly remained and conversed with us about the place, but he wasas far from being intelligent, as we afterward found trueof most of his church, and we got but little out of him.The monks of the Roman church in the Holy Landwere, as a general thing, men of intelligence, whom itwas a pleasure to meet, and from whom we derived verymuch information not to be found in the few books wehad with us, while the Greeks, with scarcely an exception,were ignorant and superstitious, having neither learningnor intellect. I had an amusing illustration of this a fewdays later in this same place.From the court of which I have spoken, openingtoward the Mount of Olives, is a long, narrow passage,built up with stone on cach side, which leads to a grottoor cave, that is furnished as a chapel in which the Greekslocate the Pas ¡ on of the garden.62 A WISE MONK.While I was one day in this chapel the Greek priest inattendance told me it was a Greek chapel of high antiquity; and " there, " said he, " is a very ancient Greekinscription," pointing to the roof on which I read two orthree words of Latin."That's not Greek,” said I." But it is," said he."No, it is not;" and I read it to him.IIe paused, scratched his chin a moment, and was evidently puzzled."But it must be Greek.""But I say it is Latin. Can't you read it yourself?""Perhaps it is Greek written in Latin. "I didn't precisely understand what he meant; but I lefthim not a little bothered; and I presume he referred itto the Greek bishop, to answer how a Latin inscriptioncame to be on a Greek chapel-roof. To say the least, itwas profanation in their eyes.The opening of this chapel in the same court with thetomb of the Virgin may perhaps serve to give a hint toward the origin of the tradition concerning the latter,which, so far as I can ascertain, has no earlier date thanthe seventh century.•The Garden of Gethsemane is near this spot; andJerome describes that garden as marked by a church asearly as his day, and in the fourth century; but I do notfind any mention of the church of the Virgin at this time,although if existing it must have been very near that one.I think it not impossible that this church may have beenoriginally the church of Gethsemane, and subsequentlymade by tradition to answer the purpose of the tombs ofthe Holy Family. In the time of the crusades, all thechurches had full faith in this locality.We did not long pause at the tomb.Afew steps further on-not a hundred yards-was anGETHSEMANE. 63inclosure, within a high stone wall, recently put up, whichcontained eight large and very ancient olive- trees. Itwas on the very foot ofthe Mount of Olives, yet elevatedsome thirty or forty feet, perhaps more, above the brookKedron. We passed around it, to the rear or mountainside, and found a low door in the wall, at which weknocked.It opened, and a Latin monk, habited in the dark robeof the Franciscans, bade us enter, and bowing our headsvery low, as all must do perforce, and as all should do onentering a spot like this, we stepped within the hallowedinclosure of Gethsemane.It is a simple garden, laid out in beds, bordered withlavender, among the old olive-trees. An arbor or trelliswork on one side supports a large vine of the passiflora.In the walls are marked fourteen stations for prayer. Itwas silent, and we were alone. The good father vanishedto his cell in the corner, as if aware that we desired noguide to tell us the story that has thrilled the heart ofman in every land and age-the saddest and sublimeststory on all the rolls of eternity.Verily he was right. The whispering leaves of theolive-trees told us the story; the winds that swept overthe lofty battlements of Mount Moriah, three hundredfeet above us, told the story; the blue, far sky above theMount of Olives, the sky he clove with his departingglory, and that shut him away from his disciples' and ourlonging gaze, told the story; the heavy beating of ourhearts-slow, solemn beating-we could hear them in thestillness of the garden, told the story of the bloody passion, and the agony that made the crown of thorns andpiercing nails as nothing afterward.“ Tu Tu, mi Jesu, totum moAmplexus es in cruce!Tulisti clavos, lanceam,64 GETHSEMANE.Multamque ignominiam,Innumeros dolores,Sudores et angores,Ac mortem! et hæc propter me,Ac pro me peccatore! "In the blue sky far up above us a solitary eagle floatedon the air above the deserted shrines of the temple oftheLord, and on the sides of Moriah, among the Moslemgraves, some women, dressed in white, sat by the tombsand wept. But no voice of human grief or human joyreached the deep valley to disturb the profound stillnessofthe garden of the Passion. The olives on the mountainwaved their flashing branches in the gentle breeze, butthose within the inclosure scarcely moved. The lavender,that bloomed with the utmost profusion, made the atmosphere heavy with perfume, as we sat down on the groundand endeavored to realize the midnight scene of the agonyand the betrayal.That the locality which is now called Gethsemane isidentical with the garden in which Christ was betrayed,there can be, I think, no reasonable doubt.That this garden is that spoken of by Eusebius and Jerome, I believe no one doubts, and the locality which isassigned in the Evangelists, certainly very exactly agreeswith this spot. Matthew, Mark, and Luke speak of hisgoing out to the Mount of Olives, and to a place whichwas called Gethsemane, the latter saying that " he wentas he was wont to the Mount of Olives." John says hewent forth "over the brook Cedron where was a garden,into the which he entered, and his disciples. " Thisgarden, therefore, may very safely be taken to occupy aportion ofthe ancient garden, or to be within a few rods,at most, of the spot. The suggestion of some of themodern residents of Jerusalem, that this is on the highroad from the eastern side of the temple and the city,GETHSEMANE.0565and in this respect does not meet the idea of a very retired spot, appears to me quite groundless, especially asthis high road was the way of the wilderness. Any onewho visits the greatest of oriental cities will find the verygateways sufficiently retired in the night time, and thisdeep valley could not have been otherwise in the mostpopulous days of the Holy City. Nor can I perceiveany point in the remarks of a learned modern writer.who, with no apparent reason other than a design tothrow a shadow on the faith of visitors, finds in the passages above referred to some reason for supposing thegarden was higher up on the Mount of Olives than it isnow represented.I need not say that the garden of Gethsemane was afavorite spot with me during my stay in Jerusalem, andthat scarcely a day passed without finding me seated under the old olive- trees within its inclosure. Here, overand again, I read the accounts of that memorable night,and of the suffering of the Man our God. Here, inphrases that seemed to us to have a new and startlingimport, we discussed the characters of those who werethe actors in the scene, the failure of every disciple'sfaith, and wondered whether, after all, we had mistakenJudas, and, as some one has argued, it was possible thathe betrayed his Master, hoping thereby to compel him toacknowledge his heavenly power, and summon his legionsof angels to conquer the throne and kingdom he, thetraitor, hoped to share.Here I saw the declining sun go down behind the battlements of Moriah, and here not infrequently the roundmoon, coming up over the holy summit of Olivet, silvered.the leaves of the old trees, and shed that radiance on thespot in which, best of all, I could realize the scene thatso thrills the hearts of Christian men.Did the moon shine on that last night of the life ofthe66 GETHSEMANE.Lord before the sacrifice? Did the full moon, in whoselight young maidens love to hear the words of younglove, behold that love which would not put awaythe cupof agony, though countless angels stood ready to seizethe chalice and dash it down to hell?I never thought of it before. In all the scenes of allthe centuries that I have imagined the moon beholding,and of which I have striven sometimes to gather someintelligence in those cold calm rays, I never before imagined that on that still orb, in the blue sky of Judea,the tear-dimmed eyes of the Lord gazed through therustling leaves of Gethsemane.O, friend of mine, in your old home by the distantHudson, where in grand nights of western moonshine, orstill, calm starlight, we have sat together on the rocksand asked the hosts of heaven to tell us stories of theChaldeans that worshiped them on plains of Orient; O,friend, look out on the sky to-night, the holy sky, theradiant sky whose azure might befit the floors of heaven,and know, of a verity, beyond a doubt, beyond a peradventure, that on those stars, those very shining groups,on white Capella, flaming Sirius, on the brow of Orion,and the cold star of the pole, the weary eyes of thehouseless wanderer who was yet a God, rested in childhood above the ancient Nile, or when as a boy heclimbed the hills of Nazareth, or when in those cold.Syrian nights he walked the long way from Galilee, orwhen he slept in the dewy air of Olivet with the stonesof the hill-side for a pillow to him who had no other onwhich to lay his head.Never again tell me it is childish to love the moonlight and the stars. Sole objects in all the universe onwhich I may look with perfect confidence that he lookedon them, yea, and with a longing for the heaven beyondthem, which he knew as his home, and which I butGETHSEMANE. 67doubtingly dare call mine, I will gaze on them in all thenights of my wanderings on earth, and sleep quietsleep when you shall lay me where they will shine on mycovering.5.The Sepulchre.Ir was noon that first day before we left Gethsemane,and he who has not been at Jerusalem can hardly imagine the difficulty we experienced on coming out of thegarden and determining whither we should direct oursteps.We were on the side ofthe Mount of Olives, and a fewminutes would take us to the summit, but the valley ofJehoshaphat, with its countless objects of interest, and thepathway to the pool of Siloam, were below us, and thecity, inclosing the church of the Holy Sepulchre, temptedus back toward its open gates.While we were deliberating thus at the little doorwayof the garden, the old monk who followed us out, andwho declined a proffered bucksheesh, pointed out theidentical spot, marked by a stone pillar, some twenty feetfrom the south- east corner of the garden, where Judasoffered the traitorous kiss. I bowed silently. I confessthat I was somewhat offended at this, the first of thecountless traditions relating to identical spots, which Ihad met with; but, looking up into the mild eyes of theold man, and meeting his kindly gaze, I said,"Shall I believe it?"" I don't know, " said he, " that it is so.tradition; and that is all I know about it. ”We have theMOUNT OF OLIVES."Do you believe it?"" I do. "69I thanked him more heartily. Bidding him good- morning, we climbed up the rough path on the hill- side, till wereached a spot where we could sit down and view thecity as a whole; the spot which a ruined chapel marks asthe place where Christ sat when he wept over Jerusalem.Here, with our whole souls, we drank in the view of theHoly City.The Mount of Olives is much higher than either Moriahor Zion; so that, from its side or summit, the strangerlooks down into the inclosure of the mosk of Omar, andcan see the entire city in a sort of bird's- eye view. Thespot on which we were now seated sufficiently answeredthe description to enable us to believe that it was the placeof the utterance of that melancholy prophecy or lamentwhich is familiar to all readers of the Bible. Resting afew moments, for it is no trifle to climb the Mount ofOlives, we read our guide-books-to wit, our Biblesmost diligently, and then resumed the ascent, and atlength reached the summit and the little village, conspicuous in which are the minaret of the mosk and theChurch ofthe Ascension.The Mount of Olives is, perhaps, as well covered witholive-trees as it could have been in the days which gaveit its name. These are large and thrifty on the summit,except where the buildings are clustered. The village isa small, dirty, and miserable collection of houses, like allthe villages of Syria. On the extreme point of the hill isan inclosed court, or rather a yard, the wall surroundingwhich is octagonal. In the centre is a small octagonalbuilding, within which an opening in the marble pavement discloses the natural rock of the mountain, and init a depression not remarkable in any way, and notlikely to attract attention, but as the alleged footprint of70 VIEW FROM OLIVET.the ascending son of Mary. So said the Mohammedanguardian of the spot, for this is a Moslem sanctuary,though in all times open to Christian visits, for a consideration. When I knelt down by the hole to examine itclosely, the long-bearded old Arab seemed to fear that Iwas about to offer some desecration to the sacred footstep.The minaret is on the inclosing wall; and, mountingthe narrow winding staircase, we found ourselves in themuezzin's gallery, looking out on perhaps the most sublime view on all the earth.To the eastward the hills went rolling downward, intoa deep dark gorge. The descent seemed terrible; as ifthey had indeed fallen or rolled into it, and lay piled upon its sides. Far down, in serene beauty, a beauty thatI had never expected, lay the Dead Sea, and beyond itthe dark mountains of Moab. One of the most remarkable ocular delusions that I have ever observed is visiblehere. I have never seen a person who would believe, onlooking at this view, that the Dead Sea was ten milesdistant. To my own eyes it appeared not more than fiveor seven, while it is actually more than twenty. Without other information than such as I would obtain fromthe view, I should have no hesitation in leaving Jerusalem for a half day's walk, to and from the shore, whichis actually two long days' labor.To the west of us lay Jerusalem; the vast court ofEl Aksa (called the Mosk of Omar) , in the south- easternpart of the city, covering Mount Moriah-the greatArmenian Convent occupying the south-western part onMount Zion-the old Church of the Resurrection, covering the Sepulchre, on the western side of the centre-andthe long sweep of houses on the hill Akra, extending fromZion quite around the central basin to the north side ofthe inclosure of the mosk. The view was complete, andWINE OF LEBANON. 71we lingered on it long enough to impress it forever onour memories.There was no refusal of bucksheesh here on the part ofthe Mohammedan. It is a strong point in the characterof a Mussulman, that he never refuses it. I have morehopes ofthem from this trait than from any other. Moneywill reach their substitute for pockets, the loose bosomsof their shirts, and their hearts are close by, if not actually carried there. There was a Greek priest standingnear the door as we came down from the minaret, who,with most obsequious politeness, offered to show us theGreek chapel; but I was obliged to defer this till anotherday, for the simple reason that the tomb of the Virginand the minaret had exhausted my silver, and we couldnot raise a piastre in the party. I knew that the Greekwould be very far from satisfied with such pilgrims, and,promising him ample attention in the future, we hastened.down the hill, re-entered St. Stephen's gate, and passingup the Via Dolorosa, found ourselves at the door of thehouse of Antonio, not a little tired, and ready for luncheon, which was waiting our arrival.Let the grapes that grow on Lebanon be rememberedfor the golden wine we drank that day, and always afterward in Jerusalem. It was light, very much like amberMuscat, and, after the heavy Spanish wines we had beenusing, was delicate and refreshing. Our daily luncheonin Jerusalem consisted of oranges from Jafla and thatwine of Lebanon, with a cake of white bread, known always as the Jews' bread, exceedingly fine and delicious,It was three in the afternoon when we went out to theChurch of the Holy Sepulchre.I had shrunk from this visit, because I had expected tobe shocked by the stories I should hear and the scenes Ishould pass through.Having thoroughly devoted myself to the elaborate72 CHURCH OF THE SEPULCHRE .volumes of Dr. Robinson as a preparation for Syriantravel, and brought them with me as the best guide- bookaside from the Bible, I had yielded myself entirely to theviews of that learned writer on all subjects relating tothe Holy Places, so that my mind was at rest on thesubject of the reputed localities of the Sepulchre andCalvary. I did not think there was the slightest possibility of their being authentic, and in the morning whenI was ascending the Mount of Olives, I had pointed upthe valley of Jehoshaphat to the broad basin-like swellingof the valley near the north-east corner of the city, andremarked to Whitely that it was an amphitheatre, thecentre of which might well have been selected for a public execution, affording ample room for thousands to lookon, and being near many rock-hewn tombs now open andabandoned.It was therefore with an involuntary sneer of derisionthat I found myself among the crowd of cross and rosary-venders, beggars, priests, children and Arabs, thatthronged the court in front of the grand old doorway ofthe church, and saw within the door the stone of unction,surrounded by pilgrims, who were kissing and pressingtheir foreheads to it in passionate attitudes.By referring to the ground plan of the church, thereader will have no difficulty in following me through it.Approaching the entrance, I saw more plainly the tapersthat surrounded this stone, which is in fact a slab of theordinary stone of Jerusalem , worn smooth with myriadsof kisses, and situated at about that intermediate distancebetween the cross and the tomb at which the body ofChrist might be supposed to have been laid when Josephprepared it for temporary burial. The Turkish guardianof the door, who sat at its left, looked with stupid, unmeaning gaze at the devout who entered on their knees." Ah, mi frater! " exclaimed a musical voice, as I was

CHURCH OFTHE HOLY SEPULCHRE .CALVARY. 73about to enter the ancient and massive doorway, and thenext instant two hands were laid on my shoulders, and apair of dark, lustrous eyes of exceeding gentleness andtenderness looked into mine from under the cowl of aFranciscan.With more pleasure than I can well describe, I recognized my old friend, Fra Giovanni, whom the reader of myBoat Life in Egypt and Nubia will remember I had metin the south of France, and with whom I had traveledto Malta. An Italian, young, wealthy, educated, and ofexcellent family, he had, for some reason that I knewnothing of, unless I ascribe it to his sincere piety, joinedthe Franciscans, and devoted his splendid abilities todisseminating the Catholic faith wherever his feet mightlead him to teach and preach. By what chance he hadwandered to Jerusalem I did not ask him, but havingparted with real sorrow on my side, and I have faith tobelieve, on his also, we met with the more pleasurefrom the total unexpectedness of the rencontre, as wellas the eminent sanctity of the place."See, now-I am leaving Jerusalem to-morrow at daybreak, and I shall see no more of you. Where is it youare going? To make the stations? Ah, no-you are aheretic; but I will turn with you, and we will talk as wewalk, and I will show you the holy places. Take my arm.-this is the way to Calvary."We turned short to the right as we entered the greatdoorway, to the foot of a flight of steps leading up to amarble-floored platform, erected so as to bring the visitoron a level with a top of a spur of the natural rock of thehill, which rises some twelve or fifteen feet above thefloor of the church, which is in a great measure the solidrock also." This is the Latin stairway. Our Greek friends willnot mount to Calvary by the same steps we use. Is it474 SOCKET OF THE CROSS.not strange that men can not consent to approach thecross of the Lord by the same road? Yonder is theirstairway."And so we ascended and were on the platform, overhungwith lamps of gold and lamps of silver, swinging from theroof by long chains, and especially numerous at the eastern end, where a taper burning dimly under a marblealtar, resembling in some measure a pier table, discloseda golden plate on the marble with which every thing wascased. So low was the altar that no one could approachthat golden plate without kneeling, and we knelt, as menmay do whether believing or not, when approaching thespot which for fifteen hundred years has been believed tobe the socket in which the cross of Christ was fixed.The plate, when pushed aside, disclosed the hole in therock. One peculiarity of the state of affairs at Jerusalem,where all the rival churches claim equal rights, is, that thepilgrim who is a stranger, may touch and handle all therelics. No one forbids, for no Greek dare forbid a Latinor an Armenian or a Copt, nor, vice versâ, dare either ofthe others forbid one not of his own faith and church.Therefore I had no hesitation in lighting a pocket candle which Egyptian experience had taught me to carryalways with me, which having placed in the hole in therock, I looked in. It was a hole two feet deep, and sixinches square, nothing more. Close by it a long narrowstrip of gold covered a slit in the marble which discloseda rift in the rock. Going under the platform afterwardwe saw in the chapel below, this same rift widened into acurious hollow, which is called the tomb of Adam.Brother Giovanni was kneeling with his face towardCalvary when I retired backward, as one necessarily mustin coming away from the spot which he has approachedon his knees under the slab of an altar, but rose andlooked with me at the rift in the rock.TOMBS OF CRUSADERS."Curious-I have not seen that before. ""You have been here often?"75"All day long for ten days; but I confess that I haveknelt longest at the Sepulchre and have but prayed a fewmoments cach morning here. ""That is the way with you always, brother John; Itold you so at Arles and Avignon. It is well enough tobe religious, but why let your religion be so absorbing as toforbid your observing the common occurrences of life?""I came here to pray.""Yes, I understand that, but interrupt your prayers alittle to use your eyes. Think how strangely it wouldhave appeared to leave Jerusalem not having seen therift in the rock which the tradition of the churchesascribes to the earthquake on the evening of the crucifixion. ""What will it matter fifty years hence when I shall bein the new city of the Lord?""There is something in that, my friend. "By this time we had descended to the level of thechurch floor, and entering a doorway under the platform,approached the rock of Calvary on this lower level. Onthe right and the left of the passage once lay those sternand magnificent guardians ofthe Holy Cross, Godfrey andBaldwin, who in turn, having fought valiantly as braveknights without fear and without reproach, slept in theirarmor at the foot of Calvary. Their graves are stillpointed out, but whether the dust of the mighty is stillwithin their sepulchres is considered at the least verydoubtful. Around them once lay the other kings of Jerusalem, men whose swords flashed along the hills fromAscalon to Nazareth, whose heavy mail rang along thewalls of Jerusalem, and who, having fought for the HolyCross, lay down with content and joy at Calvary. Passing through this chapel we approached the grating behind76 THE SEPULCHRE.which a dim taper revealed the tomb of Adam. I againmade use of my candle to light the dark hole in the rock,at which brother John glanced a moment, as I did. Butwe hastened toward the great point of attraction in thechurch, the Holy Sepulchre.I pity the man who can approach irreverently thisshrine. I have already said that I did not believe in theauthenticity of the spot. I approached it as I would agreat curiosity, but I approached it with profound respectand awe.Around it for eighteen centuries men have knelt withbeating hearts and throbbing brows. Toward it foreighteen hundred years men have yearned with unutterable longing, and in distant lands, have turned their palefaces and fast dimming eyes before they died. Millions whohave gone to God, pious, humble, holy men, believed thaton that rock the ineffable form of Christ dead once lay,and millions, foot-worn with long travel, knelt just hereand sanctified the place with the burning incense of devout prayer.Beyond all bigotry I place that ofmen who find idolatryin worshiping God before the tomb in which he lay,or who condemn all forms and ceremonies of religiousworship, even to forgetting their belief that the holysacraments of their church are but forms themselves.There is mummery enough among the Christians ofevery name who crowd this church, but all the mummerywas not sufficient to forbid in my heart the sympathy itfelt with the poor pilgrims from distant countries whoknelt before the door of the tomb, or to drive back thethrilling memories that crowded on my mind when Ifound myself at length standing on the threshold of theHoly Sepulchre. Nor alone then, at my first visit, butafterward, as I began to understand better the evidenceand the locality.THE SEPULCHRE. 77Foremost of all, I saw the queenly form of the oldmother of the Roman emperor, sccking, over the hills ofrubbish that were once the garden walls and kiosks ofJerusalem, the heathen fane on the spot to which the persecuted Christians of those times led her, and which theypointed out as covering the sepulchre in which the Saviour lay, hewn in the rocky hill - side, close by Golgotha.There was no tradition related of it, no thus saith thestory," but they knew the spot even as they knew MountZion, and the pool of Siloam, and Olivet, and Bethlehem.From the day of the crucifixion to this, there had beenno time when any other place was called Golgotha, anymore than when any other city has been called Jerusalem, and the queen-mother, a humble pilgrim, listened tothe old man who said, " My father's father knew manywho saw him crucified, dead, and buried in this tomb. "Then the long line of patriarchs, bishops, priests, andkings, who had done homage here, followed in swift procession, even to the valiant Omar, who would not kneellest his followers should on that account claim a right tothe spot for future worship. And then, with flashingarms and ringing tread, the valiant Kights of the Crossand Sepulchre, and their followers, a countless array ofmen who died for Holy Cross on the plains of Holy Land,with eager eyes to the hills that hid Jerusalem, and, lastof all, the pilgrim hosts, who, laden with sins, came hereand laid them down, from their consciences if not fromtheir souls, on this small floor of rock, six feet by three!What kingly and what lowly hearts have hushed theirthrobbing pains within this little rock-hewn chamber!In the centre of the rotunda, at the west end of thechurch, under the open dome, stands a small building onthe solid rock which is the floor of the church. Thisbuilding is of elaborate construction, chiefly consisting offine marbles. It has but one entrance, on the eastern78 THE SEPULCHRE .side, over which hangs a sloping canopy, painted blueand studded with stars. The building contains twochambers, the outer one known as the Chapel of theAngel, and the inner as the Sepulchre. I shall devotemore space elsewhere to a discussion of the construction of this building and of the Sepulchre, using in thisdescription the conclusions to which I afterward arrivedon careful examination and study, without pausing herefor arguments.Entering the Chapel ofthe Angel, which is a small apartment, some ten feet by six, in the centre of which a stone,raised on a pedestal, does duty as part of the stone thatonce closed the small doorway before us, we stooped toenter this, and found ourselves within the "new tombwhich Joseph had hewn out in the rock," the " sepulchrewherein never man before was laid" until the day of redemption.Even on that first visit, as I stooped down and lookedin before I entered, there was a sudden recollection of theattitude ofthat other disciple who accompanied Peter onthe morning of the first day of the week when he thusstooped down and looked in, which forcibly impressed me,and I might have been pardoned for a flashing thought, amomentary expectation, that within I should see the angels.But within I found a simple excavated tomb, on theright side ofwhich, elevated from the floor, was a shelf,or bench, of white marble, extending from end to end,and occupying all that part of the floor which was on theright hand of the door. The floor, sides, and roof of thisroom, are the solid rock out of which the tomb is hewn,and the marble slab probably covers a bench of the roughstone left in the hewing to receive a single body. Suchis the custom in nearly all the tombs around Jerusalem ,and the traveler who has become familiar with the formTHE SEPULCHRE. 79of these sepulchres, will recognize the exact similarity.The roof is perforated with a round hole, through whichescapes the smoke of the gold, silver, and brazen lamps,which hang over the marble slab. The latter has acrossit, about half way its length, a singular fissure, which appears like a wide crack, but does not extend quite across,and is thus evidently not a crack. It appears more as ifa thin stratum of softer stone had crumbled out and disappeared, but the eye can not see any thing through it.I have somewhere seen it stated that this fissure was artificial, designed to give the slab a broken appearance, andprevent its being appropriated by Mussulman rapacity.I doubt this.Brazen lamps most abounded, and in this I was disappointed, as also in finding that many ofthe ornaments ofthe church were of brass. The reason for this I subsequently learned, and it will appear hereafter when I shallhave occasion to describe the splendor and magnificenceof the royal gifts to the holy sepulchre which I saw elsewhere.AGreek monk stood at the head of the tomb, reading'prayers with an inaudible motion of his lips, and I nevervisited the Sepulchre afterward without finding him orhis substitute in the same place and the same attitude.The length of the entire excavated chamber is six feettwo inches, the breadth about six feet, of which breadththree feet one inch is occupied by the shelf.I pause here a moment to direct attention to the perfect manner in which this rock-hewn tomb meets the various descriptions of the evangelist.It was a tomb " hewn out of a rock. " The door wasso low that one must stoop down to look in. When theylaid the body there, they went in and saw how it was laid.It was on a level along which a stone could be rolled ormoved against it so as to close the entrance. When they80 THE SEPULCHRE.came to seek him on the morning after the Sabbath, theyentered in and saw a young man sitting on the right side,and afterward, when others came, Mary saw two angels,the one at the head and the other at the feet where thebody ofJesus had lain, that is on the spot, shelf or whatever it was, from which the body was now gone, but whichit had occupied.Obviously these, and many other striking points ofa*greement (without one, so far as I know, ofdisagreement)may be accounted for by saying that they who originallyselected this tomb for the Holy Sepulchre, were shrewdenough to select a tomb that would answer all the description, but he who attributes this adroitness to them, mustnot falsify his argument by supposing them at the same.time so stupid and destitute of shrewdness, or even ofcommon cunning, as to select a spot within the walls ofJerusalem, and thus entirely unfit to answer the description.Afew moments sufficed for that first visit to the Sepulchre. I found Fra Giovanni kneeling at a little distancefrom the door.We then proceeded to visit in succession the variousspots of interest in the church whose vast extent isscarcely to be comprehended in America, a land of novery large religious buildings.The reader who remembers that the tomb is locatedby the evangelists, in the same place with the cross, willnot be surprised to find the two under the same roof. Inancient times this was not so; but the church which originally covered the Sepulchre has been so extended as toinclude Calvary also, which was formerly in an outerchapel.From the dome, running eastward, the grand nave ofthe church is an inclosed chapel, in possession of theGreeks, splendidly ornamented with costly, exquisitoOTHER HOLY PLACES. 81paintings, and elaborate architectural details, at the expense of the Emperor of Russia. This extends from a pointnot many feet west of the Chapel of the Angel to a pointbeyond the location of Calvary, which lies south of it.Within this chapel, a stone in the pavement marks theGreek centre ofthe world, an idea I found some difficultyin getting an explanation of, and which I do not yet understand. Returning on the south and outer side of thischapel, passing the stone of unction and the steps of Calvary, we found the several Chapels of St. Longinus, ofthebonds of Christ, of the Mocking, of the Casting of Lotsand Dividing the Garments, and reached a broad flight ofsteps which led down into the Chapel of St. Helena, nowin possession of the Armenians, from which other stepsled down into a chapel in the solid rock, which is said tobe the spot where Helena found the true cross, and isknown as the Chapel of the Invention of the Cross. Thisis a dark cavernous room, presenting the appearance of achamber dug out underneath projecting masses of rock,and roofed over from the sky.Hence we went back on the other or northern side ofthe Greek chapel, and visited the Chapel of the Apparition to the Virgin, which is now the Latin chapel, andone ofthe most beautiful parts of the building, possessinga small organ, whose music is exceedingly offensive tothe Greeks, who are not possessed of a similar instrument.While we were here, a loud noise, much like miniaturethunder, startled us. It was the rapping on a boardswung near the door, which is the oriental substitute fora bell. It resounded through the aisles and arches ofthechurch, warning all visitors and worshipers that thebuilding was now to be closed, and they must depart.There was much yet to be seen, but we had ample timebefore us to see it, and we hastened out, with pilgrims,priests, and beggars, the latter a motley and pertinacious82,THE SEPULCHRE.crowd, who followed you even into the Sepulchre itself,when we entered, and now to the very outlet ofthe greatcourt, where we could scarcely escape them through thedoorway that leads to a street of filthy tanneries, oncethe street of the grand hospital of St. John.A daily visitor to the Sepulchre after this, I became familiar with all the passages of the building, and spentmany hours cach day in its shadowy aisles .Whether it were or were not the true sepulchre ofChrist, the place which has been regarded as such for fifteen hundred years is not to be regarded with other thanearnest, even tearful eyes. Around it holy men hadprayed for many generations since Eusebius, and Macarius, and Jerome, and Sabas, and many other worthieswho have long since gone to see the ascended glory ofthe crucified son of Mary. Clinging with stout hands toits marble adornments, thousands of martyrs have perished under the sword ofthe enemies of the cross. Manythousand dying sinners and dying saints in all countriesand all times have looked to it with the last straining gazeof their dim eyes, and died with smiling countenancesturned toward the tomb. Stout men have fought aroundit, and died for Holy Cross on the threshold of the Sepulchre. Pilgrims from far lands have laid their burdensdown on its rocky floor, and prayers and tears have hallowed it; so that, if it were the tomb of Judas himself, itis redeemed and sanctified as the memorial of more earnest faith and adoration than any other spot of ground onthis side the pearl gates.It was my custom, and a daily pleasure, to stand at theentrance of the Latin Chapel of the Apparition of Christto Mary after the Resurrection, and look toward theSepulchre, and watch the kneeling pilgrims of all landsas they looked to the little building which once containedthe Hope ofthe world,THE CRESCENT . 83I could laugh there at the petty pride of Turks whosauntered around the rotunda, with ill-concealed sneerson their faces, for the Christian dogs that knelt here andthere on the pavement. I could laugh, for I beheld thevisible evidence of the grandeur of our holy faith.In that little tomb, one sad night, when the stars wereover Jerusalem, there lay the worn and wasted body ofOne who had suffered an ignominious death. Here, whereI stood, Roman soldiers sat on the rocky floor, and clashedtheir armor rudely as they passed the night in alternate.jest and brawl, rattling the dice on the rock by the lightof a dim taper, and cursing each other by the gods ofRome, while they recked nothing who or what was thedead body they were set to watch. And somewherewithin Jerusalem a few men and women were weepingthe long night through in hopeless agony, the scoff of anation who had rejected the claims of their master asking and Messiah.But the scene is changed. The Saviour is risen . Thereligion of the Cross and Tomb has become the religion of the world. The nails that men believed were thenails that pierced his hands were wrought into the proudest crown of human grandeur; and the fragments theysupposed to be of the wood on which he hung are shrinedin palace-cathedrals of unknown wealth and gorgeousness.From the little handful of disciples, the followers oftheNazarene have grown to be a host more than any mancan number, of every nation under heaven. The standards of Christian powers are triumphant on every battle-field; and the day has arrived in which there is nonation of the earth able to say that it can stand and beother than Christian. It was easy to laugh at the haughtyTurk, who sneered at the poor pilgrim, ragged and dirty,who had but now arrived within the Jaffa gate, and84 THE CROSS .rushed to lay his load down at the Sepulchre. He wasthe master here; but that poor pilgrim was the representative of the religion of that tomb, by the suffrance ofwhose followers he was permitted to lord it a little whilein Jerusalem, but who will ere long-God grant it besoon! -sweep from the face of the earth every vestige ofthe religion of the camel-driver of Mecca.NKA6 .Sandal Shoon and Scallop- shell ."YA FERRAJJ!”How soon one learns to dispense with bells. The window of our dining and sitting room opened out over thebroad court. The kitchen, which was always filled withMukarri and Bedouins, was on the opposite side of it.When we wanted a servant we thundered his name, with,out leaving our seats by the table or the fire."Ya Ferrajj!"The sentry on the wall by the Damascus gate couldhear me, for the night was clear, moony, and calm, andall was still and death-like over sleeping Jerusalem. Adozen dogs howled as my voice went out and disturbedthe silence, which instantly resumed its solemn dominionwhen they ceased their howling.The Nubian entered ."Wine and chibouks. Let Antonio find a bottle ofLebanon. Have the horses ready early in the morning forthe road. Wego to Bethlehem. Fill a chibouk for FatherJohn. Now go to bed and keep that infernal crew ofBedouins still in the kitchen. IfI hear such a row again aslast night, I'll send six balls frommyrevolver down throughthe kitchen door, hit or miss-do you understand?""Aiowah. "We were scarcely settled in our chairs when therecame up from the kitchen such a confused clamor of86 A REVOLVER.voices as none but an Arab crowd can get up. I threwopen the window and cracked away with my revolver,taking good care to hit the flagging of the court eachtime, while Whitely ran down to see the effect. At thefirst shot the silence was instantaneous and profound, andat the sixth he threw open the kitchen door. No sign oflife was to be seen. Twelve Arabs of various sorts werethere, but you might have thought every man of themshot six times through the brain. Packed away underthe benches or table in the corner furthest away from thedoor and out of range, there they lay, a mass of silent,horror-stricken wretches. When he ordered them outthey seemed to think he was Azrael or the angel ofjudgment, and that they were dead and only waiting to bedamned. No man of them dared stir hand or foot.Ferrajj and Abd-el-Atti were in bed in their own places,but Hajji Mohammed, tolerably well soaked in arrakee,was at the bottom of the heap, most scared of all, andBetuni, more like a monkey than ever, Betuni, whowas the companion of my wanderings over holy hills fora long time after this, was on the top of the pile, recognizable only by his red morocco boots, which stood outin the air like signals of distress, while his head wasburied out of sight among the limbs of his Arab companions. After that we had silence for a long evening'stalk with Fra Giovanni.The night was cool and the fire blazed brightly in theopen stove piled full of stumps of old olive-trees (I knowit was sacrilege to burn such wood) . Our long chibouks,with fresh sticks of lemon-tree, were fragrant with Latakea, and our glasses filled with that delicious wine ofLebanon, the memory whereof is aromatic. Then wetalked, and listened to the low, pleasant voice of Fra Giovanni till the midnight moon looked down to the verydepths ofJehoshaphat. We spoke of pilgrims to the HolyPILGRIMS. 87Land, a subject replete with a thousand stories ofthe faithand endurance of man."Think you there was really any virtue in it, then, myfriend? Are you so far a believer in the doctrine ofgood works as to suppose, of a verity, that they whomade the weary pilgrimage thereby expiated the sins theycarried with them?""Doubtless on the way they had much of opportunityfor thought, reflection, and repentance, and here they hadabundant subjects for holy consideration and motives tohumility. I think the pilgrimage was not wholly in vain. ""Strange men. ""Yea, strange beyond what we can well appreciateor understand. And yet it is a well-known fact, that ofall the thousands of thousands who made the pilgrimage to Holy Land before the time of the Crusades, thereis not recorded one act of wrong committed on the way,thongh powerful knights and robber barons made thepilgrimage with full forces. Even the Moslems themselves said ofthem, 'Non quærunt mala, sed legem eorumadimplere cupiunt. Many a time have I, poor sinnerthat I am for a servant of the Lord, when I have beenreading the noble deeds of the order of St. Benedict,found myself admiring the valor of the pilgrim more thanhis faith, and my soul thrilling when I read of the mightof his strong arm more than when I read of his penancesand pain. How I have lingered on the story of Frotmondof Brittany, who, with ashes on his brow and chains on• VITA SIVE HODEPORICON & WILLIBALDI. (A. D. 765. ) Sec. VIII.The Saracens having captured Willibald and his seven companions, tookthem to an old man to learn who and what they were, " et ille senexrespondens ait, Frequenter hue venientes vidi homines de illis terropartibus istorum contribules: non querunt mala, sed legem Deorumadimplere cupiunt. " Thus in the Thesaurus, etc., Canisii; elsewhere itis printed eorum.88 FOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM.his arms, clothed in the shroud that marked him dead toman until his vowwas accomplished, twice performed thepilgrimage to the Sepulchre, and twice returned to thefar land of France. You must have heard the story ofthe lord ofAnjou. ""Which of the lords? for there are many on the rollsof history. ""Foulque Nerra, count and pilgrim.""No, never.""Never? It is one of the saddest and the strangeststories on all the records of the pilgrims. * The crimeshe sought to expiate are, many of them, unknown, manytoo hideous to mention."In those old days there was no fairer inheritance inthe land of Gaul than fell to Geoffrey and Foulque,grandsons of the mighty Count of Anjou. Nor wasthere a nobler heart than that of the younger brother inall of France. Geoffrey was gentle and very lovely indisposition; Foulque was fierce as a lion, and as nobletoo. Sometimes, in your own land, Signor American,you have seen women whose beauty was so pre- eminentlyabove that of others, that you could, in some measure,appreciate what men have meant who talked of womenthat were angels.

• Michaud and other historians give the principal facts of this curious

story as here related by my friend, whose account I have, in substance,followed. An examination of the ancient chronicles of France leads meto think that Foulques IV. , commonly called Le Rechin, and not hisgrandfather, Foulques III., known as Nerra, or Le Noir, mayhave beenthe Count of Anjou who killed his brother Geoffroi le Barbu. Foulques Nerra was unquestionably the count who was thrice a pilgrim tothe Holy Sepulchro, and who died at Metz, A.D. 1040. Michaud andothers may have confused the two counts, or it is very possible thatother authorities, not within my reach, may confirm their version of thehistory. I have not been able to find in America the Chronicles ofAnjou, an examination of which would settle the question.FOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM. 89"You smile. I am a Franciscan and a priest, but Iwas a layman, and I am a man. I thank God that I doretain a love of the beautiful wherever I find it, and I amnot ashamed to admire one whom he has made lovely.But it is true that I have known days when my heartthrobbed, as I trust it never will again, at the presenceof a fair woman."Foulque, the young count, was a man, and when hesaw that lady he was mad with love of her. Theirfirst meeting was in one of those forays for which his ageis better known to history than aught else. He had ledhis retainers to the sacking of a castle on the banks ofthe Rhine, and when the bloody fray was over, and hewas reeking from the carnage in which his soul took delight, he was startled by the vision of a lady, who suddenly appeared in the hall where he stood among theslain. Her story was brief. She was a captive herself,released by his arm. A wife indeed, but she knew notif her husband lived. She was the last of her race, allmurdered by him of whom the Count of Anjou had socompletely avenged her."To the young count the lady was like a vision ofheaven. He had never seen, never dreamed of suchbeauty, such magnificence. His by right of conquest,his because there was no living man to dispute his claim,for neither he nor she named her lord, and his by herown manifest will, for she threw herself into his veryarms for protection against his fierce retainers who hadopened her prison-doors, what was left for him to do.but take her to his embrace and heart? There was nothought of the curses of holy church in those days whena soldier captured defenceless women, nor was she oneto remind him or herself of the crime they committed.She was all passion, and I have said she was gloriouslybeautiful. It were vain to attempt any description ofthe90 FOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM.manner in which she wound her way into his heart, andbecame possessed of its most hidden springs of motion.Athousand times men have died for women not half sofair as she."She demanded castles for presents, and he conquered them. She would have men's heads, and hebrought them by scores; she bade him bring maidens'breasts, and he put to shame the torturers of HolyAgatha. There was no form of cruelty, no depth ofhorrible crime into which she did not plunge him, andyet he loved her with a love that grew on the very horrors that her life disclosed; and he made her queen of arealm that trembled at the glance of her brilliant eye."Patient and gentle, beloved of all his people, Geoffrey, Count of Anjou, ruled in the old halls of his father,while his brother's wild career was the terror of all thewestern world. Ever kind, the beloved father of hiscounty, he was almost revered by those who saw in hima noble and kind master, a gallant defender, and a faithful friend."The tempter did not long delay to whisper in the carsof Foulque Nerra that he was the most powerful of thetwo, and that it was fit that his brother's retainers shouldserve him. His castle-not his, but one which he hadcaptured, having utterly erased from the rolls ofthe livingevery name which could claim adverse title to his ownwas not sufficiently large for the lands he now ruled, andwhich actually surrounded his grandfather's ancientcounty, now held by his brother, whose grand old hallswere more fit for his court and queen. The suggestionof even this horrible crime did not open his blind eyes tothe true character of his beautiful destroyer."The deed was rapidly planned and swiftly done. Theguards of the old castle shrank in horror from the unnatural fray, and he obtained almost peaceful possession ofFOULQUE NERRA , THE PILGRIM. 91the towers of his fathers, even before his brother wokefrom sleep, to find himself a prisoner."Geoffrey died horribly, of woe and torture, in thedungeons ofthe castle. The unnatural brother gloried inhis accomplished crime, and crowned his mistress, nowmore gorgeously beautiful than ever, in the halls that hadalways before been honored among men."But Geoffrey died not unavenged."A year swept on, and the count woke one morningin his halls, alone. His wife was gone, fled, with an unknown servant of the house-a base slave-gone, and forever!"With her his soul departed. Black agony took possession of him, and remorse indescribable. It seemed asif she were his courage, his strength, his very life-for allwere gone, from the very hour he heard of her flight." Nor was that all. Geoffrey, his murdered brother,was in her place, and thenceforth never left him; nor didhe come alone to curse the sinful man, but behind himwere all the maidens he had outraged and butchered, allthe dead he had sent unshrived to God-a ghastly train,innumerable, and ofhorror beyond description-all fixingon him their pale wild faces of reproach and pain. Hecould not live, and God forbade him to die. He wandered, restless, up and down his halls, with open eyes.fixed on the visions that would not leave him. At length,hopeless of relief elsewhere, as was the custom of the agehe set out for the Holy Sepulchre. They went with him.All the way he saw his ghostly persecutors, and they followed him to the gate of Jerusalem, whereafter he sawthem no more. Drawn on a hurdle, with a rope aroundhis neck, through the streets of the Holy City, he rentthe air with his cry for mercy, Ayez pitié, Seigneur, dutraitre et parjure Foulques!" Once more the mighty Count of Anjou raised his92 FOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM.head, and, though the cord of shame was around his neck,and he wore the sandals of pilgrimage, nevertheless thepavement resounded to a firm tread as he walked eachmorning up to the Sepulchre, and in a voice more accustomed to the shout of battle, chanted his miserere. Despise it as you will, you Protestants, there is neverthelessan atmosphere in Jerusalem, and around the Sepulchre,that humbles human pride, and softens the heart of sinfulman. I will not pause here to explain it, though I thinkI can do so without giving you cause to say that I am abeliever in the present miraculous efficacy of pilgrimage." His vows accomplished, the dust of the outer worldshaken off from his feet and his soul, as he enteredthe gates of the city, he knelt for the last time at theSepulchre, and, with a light heart and calm conscience,mounted his steed on the hill of Zion, and rode proudlyhomeward."In the fairest valley of Switzerland, under the shadowof the Jungfrau, there was a hamlet through which theCount of Anjou passed on his journey to his own castle.He slept peacefully in the night now, and no ghostshaunted his waking hours. Peace, the peace that Godgiveth the penitent, was on his soul, and so he went allthe way homeward, chanting brave psalms or prayingaloud."But that evening, before he slept, he walked out inthe village and toward a castle that stood on an eminence near by it; and, as he approached it, he saw a ladyslowly walking up the hill toward the great gateway.There was something in that form that sent through theheart of the count a thrill of such emotion as he had longbeen a stranger to, for it was one such as the false prophethas promised to the embraces of his followers in Paradise.And as she entered the gate and turned back, he beheldhis faithless mistress, even as she was when he first beheldFOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM . 93her, beyond all words beautiful, her eyes filled with thatold enchantment that invited him to sin and shame."Overwhelmed at first with wild emotions, he knewnot what to do. But, as he sat alone in his chamber thatnight, his dim candle shining on a fragment of the truecross that lay upon the table before him, the only relic hehad brought from Holy Land, the arch- fiend, in the guiseof that fair lady, knelt on the other side of the cross, andwith smiles and becks tempted him to damnation."Men said the lady was not unwilling, and others thather wails rang through the village in that midnight fraywhen at the head of his band he bore her on his saddlefrom the castle down the steep descent that led into thevillage, fighting every step with the retainers that surrounded their lord. But Satan, who had tempted him,forsook him in the hour of utmost need. The next night,clasped in her white arms, helay at a village on the bankof the Rhone, and in the solemn hours of the darkness.once more those ghostly visitors surrounded him, andonce more he woke in terror to see with waking eyesmore fearful visions than when he slept."A band of robbers from the Alpine passes had surrounded his wearied troop, and though they were braveas lions, not one save he and his old squire escaped to remember the horrors of that night, in the midst of whichshe had vanished. In vain he searched for her for monthsamong those mountain gorges, which are now crowdedwith pleasure-seeking travelers. She was lost to him, andat length, no longer praising, no longer chanting, he rodehomeward, forever by day and by night accompanied bythose ghostly appearances, hearing all along the way thesame sad voices of agony and woe."Again his sin had found him out. Weighed down.with remorse, and desirous to keep forever before him thememory ofthe Holy Cross and Tomb, he devoted himself94 FOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM.to erecting at Loches, near his own castle, a monasteryand church, wherein he deposited a piece of the truecross, which till late years have been known by the nameof Saint Sepulchre. Here he wept and prayed, but weptand prayed in vain. Still his brother's ghost hauntedhim. It was in his chamber when he would sleep, it satat table with him when he ate, it walked, it rode withhim; it laid its cold hand on his bread, and his breadmouldered; it dipped its white finger in his wine, andthe wine froze his heart when he drank it."Human nature could not long abide this, and oncemore, penitent and humble, he stood barefooted beforethe gate of Jerusalem, and walked with ashes on his headand anguish in his heart to the blessed tomb wherein Godhath permitted manto lay all his sin, and again the ghostlyfollowers of his footsteps left him at the gate, and he approached the Sepulchre alone."Of his long vigils, night after night kneeling motionless by the tomb, of his penances innumerable, his almsand good deeds, the record remaineth somewhere. Atlength, once more relieved and pardoned, as he trusted(and so let us trust), he departed for the land of his birthand sinful life, sailing from Jaffa to Brundusium in Italy."He had scarcely set foot on the land, when he hearda story from all men's mouths of terrible outrages andwrongs done on the children of our holy father the Popeby a bandit who, inhabiting the Apennines, was nevertheless omnipresent from the straits of Charybdis to thePo, and of whose deeds no tongue could sufficiently relatethe horror."The pilgrimage had not so changed his nature butthat the sound of battle was glorious to Foulque Nerra.It reminded him of that day when his own arm had struckdown the stout Count of Brittany. He girded on hisarmor once more, and with the trusty band of retainersFOULQUE NERRA , THE PILGRIM. 9596who had accompanied him to Jerusalem, penetrated thefastnesses of the Apennines. His heart beat with its oldfire, his hand was strong as in youth, and his soul was fullof daring and of joy, for this was the Lord's work, andhe fought in a cause of which he never before had feltthe glory. He won the very fortress of the chief, captured his stores of treasure, but the man himself was not there.66 Reposing after the victory, sleep such as in formeryears he did not know, visited his eyes. But the claspof warm arms awoke him to find himself in the embraceof her for whom he had twice sacrificed his soul's salvation. It was a madness that possessed him, that he didnot then and there strangle her as he had countlesswomen for her. But there was a power in her supremebeauty that forbade the holy influences even of his pilgrimage. He opened his eyes to meet her large browneyes full of delight and love, and the sweet temptationonce more damned him."In that mad clasp, the cross and promised crown, thetomb and resurrection that he hoped, and had faith tobelieve he had won, were alike forgotten, and there wasjoy in hell over the sin of the great Count of Anjou."I can not tell whence she came. If her own whispered story were true, she was the captive of the robberchief, since the night she last saw him in Switzerland.But it was verily insanity that he did not think strangeof her brilliant youth and unchanged beauty, though hehad grown old since he first saw her, and that he did notrecognize in that some evidence ofthe presence ofthe fiend." He fell asleep with his fair sin locked close in hisstout arms, and then, once more, the pale face of Geoffreyde Barbu looked within the canopy, and the sleeper shuddered as the vision of unutterable woe again possessedསhis soul.96 FOULQUE NERRA , THE PILGRIM."He hurled her from his embrace, sprang to his feet,and seized his sword to plunge it in her bosom; but shewas gone, and the shouts of battle now rang around him."The robbers were on him in force. He rushed out,mad with the ghastly company that kept close beside him,and plunged into the fray.66 Right valiantly did Foulque then fight. His broadsword made sweeping circles of mangled dead along hisfurious path. But every flashing sweep of the swordpassed through the form of his murdered brother whowould not leave him, and every dead man at his feetcursed him, as he fell, with the same look out of his dyingeyes."Wounded, well-nigh dead, but victor over his slainfoes, the Count of Anjou was carried to the feet of theholy Father, and there, hailed as the saviour of Italy ina triumphal procession, he received full absolution of allhis sins from the lips of the grateful Pope."People thronged in crowds around him, to see thegreat count who had twice prayed at the Holy Sepulchre,and with whose deeds of arms the world resounded . Hisapproach to his own country was an ovation. His retainers crowded the way, and the air rang with the shoutsof welcome that hailed his return."But the old count, for he was old now, had a sternand unforgiving conscience, nor could all the interveningtime shut out the distant past."Even when the words of pardon fell on his ears fromthe lips of the holy Father, he saw that cold, calm facebeside him, and after that he was no more alone, but always Geoffrey was with him, clanking his chains to drownthe psalm in the morning service, and with that face ofwoe scaring the pious visions, that he sought to cherish,from his soul."Once more, weary, heart-broken, forever haunted byFOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM.97his spectral brother, the valiant Count of Anjou went tothe Saviour's Sepulchre. Three pilgrimages he had accomplished, and the third in agony that he almost daredcompare to the agony of his Lord. And once more, outof his exhaustless fountain of love, the blessed Lord forgave the sinner's crime, and he arose, and stood, andwalked a pardoned man. Thrice damned, thrice forgiven,thrice dead, thrice raised to life, the soldier of a hundredfields, the victor in all, marched slowly homeward, desiring only to die. He was very old now. His hair waswhiter than the snow of Lebanon, but his arm was strongas of old. History tells not what valiant deeds the oldman was led to do, what enemies of the cross he vanquished, what mighty valor was yet left in that greatright arm." He never reached his home. On a lonesome couchin the old town of Metz, the giant form of the Count ofAnjou lay stretched in the weakness of dying. Aroundhim now, blessed be God, there were no visions of woc,but angels made glad the road up which his clear old eyesgazed. Once, ere he died, a form of almost scraphicbeauty passed across the way and intercepted the lightof heaven that was shining down it on his brow. Theywho stood around him saw the shadow. He sprang tohis feet, as the fair form again and for the last time camebetween him and his God, and now in all her young andglorious beauty he knew that she was but a fiend, an angel, but a fallen angel, a star lost out of heaven. Nowhe felt how all his life long he had been tempted of adevil, and in a flood the old sad years swept over all hismemory, as the blue sea sweeps over the huge form of afast-sinking vessel, and out of the depths he cried to Godaloud, with his strong arms uplifted and his old swordflashing once more in his strong grasp. His voice rangdown the old streets of Metz, and was heard by the holy598 FOULQUE NERRA, THE PILGRIM.men who were praying at the altar for the passing soul.'Deus meus, Deus meus non dereliquisti me!' and thesword fell clanging on the marble floor. So died FoulqueNerra, Count of Anjou, thrice a pilgrim to the Sepulchreofthe Lord."His heart was kept for many centuries at Metz, buthis body lay buried in his church at Loches in his owncounty of Anjou."7.Round about Jerusalem.THAT part of Syria which lies between the lower Jordan and the Mediterranean, and which surrounds and includes Jerusalem, may be generally defined as a vastassemblage of hills and intervening ravines, scarcely wideenough in any instance to be called valleys. There are,occasionally, tracts of elevated table land, but the cultivation is chiefly either in the bottoms of the ravines, or onthe more gentle slopes of the hill- sides where the rainsof centuries have not washed away the soil. On the upper parts of the hills, and on their sides, everywhere, thebare rocks are visible, with scarcely sufficient thin soilbetween them to afford subsistence to the flocks of sheepand goats which the Bedouin children lead from place toplace. The curse of God appears to rest on all the country, and the desolation of the land of Israel could scarcelybe more total and complete.It is entirely impossible that the country around Jerusalem should afford sufficient products under even themost skillful cultivation, to sustain a population equal tothe present, ifit were not for the simple habits ofthe people, and that their few wants enable them to preserve lifeon food that would starve a man from western Europe orAmerica. Ifthe restoration of the Jews were effected atthis time the entire provision of the city would be im-100 SITE OF JERUSALEM.ported by Jaffa and brought on camels from the sea overthe rough path I have described in a former chapter, norwould any amount of industry succeed in restoring thesoil to the barren rocks that now receive the sunshinewhich once gladdened the gardens of Canaan. It is indeed a somewhat remarkable fact that the ancient wordswhich were used to characterize the country should stillbe accurately true, "a land flowing with milk andhoney." The great flocks of sheep and goats that areon all the hills afford to the wandering tribes and tothe villagers their chief support in leben, or soured milk,which they eat morning and evening, while wild flowers,clinging in crevices of the rocks and blooming amongutter desolateness in grand profusion extract from thatancient soil the delicate food of the bees, and grow asif only to assert the former richness of the Land ofPromisc.These rugged hills, bleak and desolate as I have described them, are intersected by numerous gorges andravines, which wind and unite with each other, slopingalways downward to the Mediterranean or to the DeadSea. The traveler from Jaffa crosses the ridge of highestland shortly before arriving at Jerusalem, on the west ofthe city, and hence these wâdys descend in both directions. Indeed, if the ancient city extended as far to thenorthward as some are disposed to think it may havereached, it is probable that the drain of the extremenorth was toward the Mediterranean, although the entirewash of the present city runs toward the Dead Sea.No streams run in these numberless wâdys. One, andonly one spring of living water, flows down the hill- sidesaround the Holy City. This runs through Siloam . It isonly after severe rains that the beds of the brooks arefilled, and their waters rush rapidly down the steep descents to their respective destinations.SURFACE DESCRIPTION. 101From itsJerusalem stands one thousand three hundred feetabove the Mediterranean, and three thousand nine hundred feet above the surface of the Dead Sea.heights, eastward, every thing rolls downward, so thatfrom the top of the Armenian Convent, on Mount Zion,the view castward is like looking down into a deep, darkbasin, toward which, from all directions, the hills and valleys tend.If the reader will accompany me a few moments, andtake a position north-west ofthe city, on the rising ground,near the point where I have spoken of my first view ofthe city, I will endeavor to give him a topographical ideaof the location of the Holy City, which must serve hispurpose until he can see a model, or, better still, can visitit with his own feet and eyes.The land on which we stand is sloping gently eastwardand southward, as we advance south-east, continually descending. On our left, a broad depression in the tableland is visible, the bottom of which is not more than ahundred feet below us, and this falls off slowly to theeastward, and then bends as it narrows, until its direction.is nearly north and south. On the right, a similar basinextends to the southward from us, so that we may be saidto be on a gentle undulation of the land, which may be inbreadth a mile and a half from basin to basin. The depression on the left continues to descend until it reachesa point east of the north-east corner of the city wall,when it suddenly deepens in another basin, and that narrows into a deep ravine, descending rapidly almost duesouth.The basin on our right also descends, but more slowly,passing the north-west corner of the city, and now narrowing like the other, continues due south some distance andthen bends to the south-east in a deep ravine, and atlength joins the one we have described, on the left, and102 THE HILLS AND VALLEYS.the two form one deep gorge that goes plunging down tothe Dead Sea.On the point of land we have thus seen formed between these two water-courses, stands the Holy City.But yet another depression is observable, as we approach it from our original position, commencing in thecentre of the undulation near the north wall of the city,and descending gently through the very middle of thecity until, as it approaches the south, it falls suddenly anddeeply to the level of the two former, and thus divide.the point we formerly made into a fork, of which the lefthand or Eastern tine is much longer than the right orwestern. These two tines (if I may use the homely illustration) may for the present be understood as maintaining their level almost to the very points where by abrupthills they descend to the bottoms of the ravines whichinclose and form them. We will call them hills hereafter.The western hill is Mount Zion, and the eastern isMount Moriah. On the former stood the city of David,and on the latter the Temple of Solomon. The entire hillwhich we are descending as we approach the city, andwhich is the handle of the fork, I suppose to be the AkraofJosephus.The ravine which we followed on the left is known toall readers as the Valley of Jehoshaphat, while that ontheright is the Valley of the Sons of Hinnom, and the intermediate valley which divides the hills is in its lower partthe Tyropcon of Josephus, but not mentioned by namein the sacred writings.Outside of these ravines are hills, the mountains thatare " round about Jerusalem. " Behind us, on the northcast, is the Mount Scopus of Josephus.The Valley of Jehoshaphat divides the city from theMount of Olives, which lies due east of the centre ofmodern Jerusalem, and this hill is separated, by a depresPOPULATION AND GOVERNMENT. 103sion, from the next on the south which is the Mountain ofOffence. At the foot of this, the valley formed by theunited valleys runs to the southward, and this part of itis supposed to be the ancient Gehenna, the place of sacrifice to Moloch. West of the principal valley, and overlooking the point of junction, is the Hill of Aceldama.Rising still higher to the south-east is the Hill of EvilCounsel. West ofthe city are no prominent hills knownin history, and it has already been seen that on the northwest we approached the city by a long, gradual slope ofthe land. This fact is important, and the reader shouldbear in mind that from the north-west corner of the citythe land steadily rises toward the north-west, sweepingaround the basin of the upper Pool of Gihon, and there isno spot within miles where the wall of the city could havebeen built unless on this slope, so that it is plain that theland outside was always higher than the land within thewalls.The population of Jerusalem is to be gotten at only byguess-work. So near as I could ascertain it, it is madeup of about seven thousand Mohammedans, five thousandJews, and rather more Christians-making the total between seventeen and twenty thousand. Much of thismust be mere guess- work, however, and it is not at allimpossible that a census might take four or six thousandoff from this estimate.The city is now under the direct government of thesultan, who appoints the pasha. During my stay in Jerusalem this functionary was invisible, having gone toNablous, where rumor said he was obliged to remain,fearing an attack from Bedouins if he attempted to return.The city is dependent for its supplies of water chieflyon the rains of heaven. This subject has been a fruitfulsource of discussion to oriental travelers, and it is very104 SUPPLIES OF WATER.certain that as yet little progress has been made in explaining where the immense population that once inhabited Jerusalem obtained their supplies of this necessityof life.The upper Pool of Gihon, in the valley north-west ofthe city, with its conduit running down to the Birket elHammam in the city, near the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, is the only known supply on the west side. Thereare two or three deep wells within the city walls-one ofwhich, near the great mosk, has been examined by severalpersons, but it is wholly inadequate even to modern demands. The fountain of the Virgin, running into thePool of Siloam, is the only steady supply on the east ofthe city. This is perennial, and was evidently highlyprized by the ancient inhabitants. Immenso cisternsabound in the city, and every house has its smaller rescrvoir, which supply the wants of the scanty population ofthese days. The aqueduct from Solomon's Pool is irregular in its supply, and belongs exclusively to the greatmosk.The support of the city is its holiness. Pilgrims sustain it entirely. In Easter week their number is immense,and all the year round it is considerable. The great convents supply them lodging, and they provide their ownfood from the bazaars.Mohammedans and Christians alike regard the city asholy. The Koran abounds in this doctrine. The moskof El Aksa in the temple inclosure is the third holy placein the Moslem world, Mecca and Medina alone precedingit. The Moslems know Jerusalem only by its Saracenictitle, El Khuds (the holy) .Avery good idea of the description and character ofits population could be had any morning fromthe windowof our dining room, which looked down into the court.Here we were accustomed to watch the group that gathGENERAL ASPECT. 105ered to await our exit. There were venders of rosariesand pearl shells, Dead Sea stone, and similar curiosities,sitting with their wares before them; boys with old coinsin bags by the hundred; women chaffering with IlajjiMohammed about eggs and chickens, one or two Bedouins waiting for engagements for the Dead Sea, a Jew,Mordecai, whose business was stone-cutting, another whosold us wine, and a half-dozen muleteers and mukarri(horse dealers) waiting commands.Prominent among them was always visible the janissaryof the American agency, who was as useless and as muchof a nuisance as possible, for the purpose of extractingout of us all the fees he could, and who would hangaround the muleteers a fortnight for a dollar at the endof it.The general aspect of Jerusalem is very melancholy.There is no such thing as cheerfulness about it, even in asunny, spring day. It is a mass of old stone houses, cold,sombre, and sad, presenting only blank walls to the street,many ofthem in ruins. Portions of the city are gardens,or thickets of prickly pear and weeds. Not more thanone half of the inclosure within the walls is occupied byhouses. The entire hill of Moriah, nearly half of Zion,and all the valley between them, the north- eastern partof the city, and detached spots elsewhere, are either opencourts, gardens, or desolate and deserted places. Outsidethe city walls there is no habitation, except the buildingson Mount Zion, and a coffee-shop near the Jaffa gate.The hermit who lives in the Cave of Jeremiah is the solitary exception on the north and east of the city, unlessthere be a monk regularly sleeping in Gethsemane. Ithink there is not, for I was unable to obtain entranceearly in the mornings, and the attendant Franciscan always came away with me in my evening and starlightvisits.5*106 MEANS OF LOCOMOTION .The ways and means of locomotion are various. Nowheeled vehicle is known in Syria. The ways are therefore execrable, and I am compelled to add, the meansequally so. The streets are narrow, and the pavements,many of which date from the Crusades, if not a muchearlier period, are, as one might imagine, out of repair.Originally large square blocks of stone, they frequentlylie scattered along the street, the holes they should occupy being filled with mud. In some places the streethas an elevated side-walk on each side, the entire streetbeing perhaps ten or twelve feet wide, of which six oreight feet is occupied by the trottoir for men, and therest by the trottoir for camels, donkeys, and horses. Thelatter, however, is in such cases always filled with intensely filthy mud and water, frequently a foot or eighteen inches deep,so that a misstep on the slippery sidewalk entails the risk of a plunge into it, not to say ofdrowning; and in meeting animals or passing them (aconstant occurrence) , one is necessarily plentifully sprinkled with the mixture.I walked everywhere; frequently estimating a day'stravel in and around the city at from ten to fifteen miles.For Miriam I procured a donkey immediately on arriving. But Jerusalem donkeys are not to be recommended.The first one that I tried was so dainty of his feet that healways waited at a mud-hole till she dismounted andwalked around it, and in the streets of the city wouldnever attempt the fording of the rivers of filth that Ihave described, but, waiting till she walked along theside-walk, would follow her like a dog, and stop at theend of the mud to be remounted. This would not do atall, and I tried another. This one had a weakness in hishinder legs, manifest especially in climbing hills like theMount of Olives, which sometimes resulted in their actually giving out, and slipping the rider off behind—a prac-VIA DOLOROSA . 107tice not consistent with her dignity or comfort. The lastone that we got would bolt off to the right or left, seeming to have an insane desire to mount impracticableplaces by the road- side, or plunge down into all sorts ofholes and ditches, any thing, in fact, except to go ahead;but with Whitely on one side and myself on the other,armed with olive-wood sticks, cut on the mountain (Ihave mine yet), we succeeded in getting along after afashion; and this was the style of our locomotion in andaround the Holy City, until we found horses to suit us,of which I shall speak directly.It was not strange that the shopkeepers in the bazaarssoon became acquainted with us, and that the venders ofrelics about the door of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,who with the crowd of importunate beggars make thecourt a veritable den of thieves, learned to recognize ourparty.We lived in our own hired house on the Via Dolorosa.Above us the street was arched over, and yet beyond thiswas the Porta Judiciara, the Arch of Judgment. Manyof the narrow streets of Jerusalem, as well as other castern cities, are thus covered with the upper floors of housesextending across them.TheVia Dolorosa is not a street, but consists of parts ofmany streets, and a line drawn through some houses.This is the traditionary line of the way which Christwalked from the house of l'ilate to the place of crucitixjon. Parallel with the eastern part of it is another way,in a narrow street, which is supposed to have been traversed by the Virgin Mother at the same time.The Way of Grief commences in the street whichleads up from the gate of St. Stephen, on the east side ofthe city, at a point near the site of the ancient tower ofAntonia, where it is probable that the Roman power inJerusalem was concentrated, and Pilate held his judgment.108 VIA DOLOROSA.hall. One ofthe most tasteful and beautiful chapels in Jerusalem (of the Flagellation) , stands on the north side ofthe way, opposite the entrance to Pilate's house. Thelatter is the present residence of the Turkish governor,and opens, as did Antonia, into the temple inclosure.Coming up from Gethsemane one evening I stopped afew moments at this chapel, and found an intelligentmonk in attendance, with whom I fell into conversation,and who accompanied me as far as the house of Antonio,along the Via Dolorosa, pointing out the various placesof traditionary interest. The Arch of the Ecce hom*o, aquaint old archway, with a room on the top, covers thestreet just here. Whether this stood in the times ofChrist it is at present impossible to affirm, but I see noreason to doubt it. The great age is certain, both of thesupporting buttresses and the central arch. The streethere runs between deep walls, which, as well as the arch,are of ancient times.My companion affirmed nothing of the various placeswhich he pointed out. " They say," was his constant remark; and on asking the evidence, he replied , " It is thetradition: I believe it on that; I don't know it any otherway." The reader will please take it on this authority.cross.Close to the arch is the spot where Christ fell the firsttime, and a breach in the wall made by the beam of theJust here he said " Salve, mater," to the weepingMary, and a little further he fell again. Before reachingthe corner of the street that comes down from the Damascus gate, a slight bend in the street takes place, onthe spot where Simon the Cyrenian was compelled totake the cross, and, notwithstanding this relief, the Saviourfell again, just at the corner.As I am speaking of this street, I pause to remark thatthe right side of it was, at the time of my visit, remarkable for several ancient archways on which the earth of

.НОМО ECСЕ THE OFARCHHOUSE OF VERONICA. 109the hill of Herod's palace (erroneously so called), hadslidden down and accumulated, making them actuallysubterranean caverns. They stood up but a little abovethe level of the street, which is here much filled up aboveits ancient level, being apparently crypts or vaults undersome ancient building. The chambers were, of course,dark and damp, the entrance to them being a sharp descent of eight feet or more from the street. I mentionthem here to remark that they were stables for all sortsof animals-camels, horses, donkeys, goats, and sheep,which were driven down into them night after night,and, being public to all, were never out of usc. Mr.Pierotti, the architect of the Terra Santa, commenceddigging them away while I was in Jerusalem, to lay thefoundations ofa new Austrian hospital.Turning the corner to the left, we were in the streetwhich leads from the Damascus gate into the heart of thecity, but continued in it only a few steps. The building onthe right here is the house of Lazarus, while that of Divesis a little beyond; and, turning to the right, again facingwestward, we pass our residence, in the house of Antonio, on the left, and shortly after that of Veronica, whocame out of it to give the Saviour her handkerchief towipe his brow. He returned it to her with the impression of his countenance on the linen, and the handkerchief is one of the four great relics which now occupy thefour balconies under the great dome of St. Peter's atRome.Beyond this is the Arch of Judgment, the way now ascending the hill Akra, and thence it turned to the left,some distance along a street, and thence through theblocks to the Church of the Resurrection, entering thatin the Armenian Chapel of the Cross, east of Calvary.The streets of Jerusalem have no names, and thereader will, at times, be puzzled to trace the traveler's110 CAVERNS UNDER JERUSALEM.course about the city. There is no help for this, since amap or plan without street names is of no general use,and the stranger to Jerusalem must be content with acquiring a knowledge of the principal great divisions ofthe city and the gates. Of these, there is one on eachside now in general use. I shall call them by their mostcommon names, that on the north, Damascus, on theeast, St. Stephen, on the south, Zion, and on the west,Jaffa. Beside these there is a small gateway on thesouth side, open every morning for the vegetable womencoming up from the valley below the Pool of Siloam , andclosed after noon. This is by some called the Dunggate, but without authority. It is known to the nativesas the gate of the Moors, Mograbbin, and such I shallstyle it if I have occasion to mention it.Most visitors to Jerusalem have mentioned the storyof vast caverns under the north-eastern part of the city,but few have found their way into them, and the statement is, by many, regarded as apocryphal.Moses, servant in the house of Antonio, had, at sometime, visited them, and volunteered as a guide. Weformed a party one afternoon, and sallied out of theDamascus gate, near which, on the east, is the entranceto these subterranean halls, which in extent, height, anddepth, surpass all that has been hinted at concerningthem.I am not aware that any book-writing travelers havehitherto found this cavern, and I do not know of any extant description of them, or theory about them.Turning short to the right as we left the gate, and following the city wall to the point where it crosses a highprecipitous bluff of rock, we found a small, dark hole under this bluff itself.A remarkable fact in this locality seems to have escaped the notice of writers on Jerusalem. The hill onCAVERNS UNDER JERUSALEM. 111which the north-east part of the city stands terminatesabruptly at the north wall, but this is an artificial termination. I shall hereafter mention my reasons for supposing this hill to be a part of the Akra of Josephus, andI pause here to remind the reader of that historian'sstatement, that Akra was cut down by the Asmoncans soas to reduce its height. I shall speak of this again whenI discuss the topography of Josephus.This hill has been cut in two by a broad passage, somehundred feet in width, running across the hill from eastto west, and leaving two high perpendicular walls ofrock facing each other. In the face of the northern hillis the so-called Cave of Jeremiah, a manifest ancientquarry, and not a natural cavern, while in the face of theopposite or southern wall, over the top of which thenorth wall of the city rises, is another quarried cavern,of extent and magnitude surpassing the most extendedquarries which I have seen in Egypt or in the world.This immense cavern was formerly open to the outerworld by an entrance not less than two hundred feetbroad, and probably forty or fifty in height. The accumulation of earth, in the cutting between the hills, hasfilled up this opening, so that immediately under thebluff of rock it is, in some places, quite closed withearth, and, in others, by a loose stone wall which excludes visitors, and which gives to the ordinary passerby the idea that the wall of the city, on this northerndeclivity, is carried over a solid rock ledge, reachingdown indefinitely into the ground; although the fact is,as I have stated, that the wall passes over a great archleft in the natural rock.Lying on my face, and entering, feet first, the narrowhole, just large enough to admit my body, I pushed myselfin some six feet, and then found my feet unsupported,so that, advancing slowly, I at length bent my legs down-112 VAST EXTENT OF CAVERNS.ward, and with due discretion dropped into the arms ofMoses, who stood ready to receive me. Having helpedin the other gentlemen, and Rev. Dr. Bonar of Scotland,who had joined us at the Damascus gate, we advanced afew steps, when we found ourselves on the edge of theearth which I have described as filling up the mouth ofthe cavern. It now fell off, at the natural angle of earthaccumulated in such a manner, and we planted our feetin it, and slid rather than walked down the sharp descent of thirty or forty feet, and found ourselves in amighty cavern, with a magnificent roof far over us, andvast pillars of unhewn rock supporting it.Without pausing to describe our slow and admiringpassage through the labyrinthine halls of this cavern, Imay state the results at which I was able to arrive without the aid of compass or measuring line.Nearly or quite all that part of Jerusalem which liesnorth of the Via Dolorosa and east of the street of theDamascus gate, leading therefrom to the old bath at thecorner of the Via Dolorosa, stands on arches or pillars ofrock in this subterraneous cavern. Moses assured us thatit had an outlet somewhere near the Garden of Gethsemane, but this is impossible from the nature of things,and I verified its impossibility by a strict examination ofthe entire circumference of the excavation, finding everywhere the outer line of the cavern and leaving no galleryunexplored. The floor is irregular, often having deep pitsout of which blocks of stone have been taken. The totaldescent in the deepest part must be at least a hundredand fifty feet.There was one deep excavation , in the white stone, thedeepest in the whole cavern, at the bottom of which wefound the bones of a skeleton, the remains of a man whowas missing for many years from his home in the city,and who was at length found here, where he had evidentlyORIGIN OF THE CAVERNS. 113fallen from the lofty side which hung a hundred feet abovethe pit, and where his bones are still permitted to lie.In one place, nearly under the line of the street of theDamascus gate, we found water, clear, limpid, and bright,trickling drop by drop from the wall into a sort of rockbasin. But I have seldom tasted a more vile stuff thanit was. Although filtered as clear as crystal, it was thewash of the street, if not a worse drain from above, andin no sense a living spring. That the whole was a quarrywas amply evident. The unfinished stone, the marks ofplaces whence many had been taken, the galleries in theends of which were marked out the blocks to be cut, andthe vast masses cut but never removed, all showed sufficiently the effect of the cutting. But dato or inscription we looked in vain for, and conjecture is left freehere. I wandered hour after hour through the vast halls,seeking some evidence of their origin.Onething to me is very manifest. There has been solidstone taken from this excavation sufficient to build thewalls of Jerusalem and the Temple of Solomon. The sizeof many ofthe stones taken from here appears to be verygreat. I know no place to which the stone can have beencarried but to these works, and I know no other quarriesin the neighborhood from which the great stone of thewalls would seem to have come. These two connectedideas impelled me strongly toward the belief that thiswas the ancient quarry whence the city was built, andwhen the magnitude of the excavation between the twoopposing hills, and of this cavern is considered, it is, tosay the least of it , a difficult question to answer, what hasbecome of the stone once here, on any other theory thanthat I have suggested.We remained in the cavern some hours, and when wocame out the sun was setting behind the hills near NebySamuel, and we strolled slowly along toward the Damas-114 OUR HORSES.cus gato among heaps of earth which boys and donkeyswere bringing out from the excavations for the Austrianhospital. I picked up a half dozen coins of the Romanempire among this rubbish, and I have no doubt that itwould pay an antiquarian for a careful sifting.Who can say that the cavern which we explored wasnot the place where the hammers rang on the stone,which were forbidden to sound in the silent growth ofthe great Temple of Solomon?I have described our ordinary locomotion. We improved this after a time. I knew very well that goldwould not buy an Arabian mare; that princes had temptedBedouins with incredible sums to part with their royalanimals, but that the blood of the desert birds is not tobe purchased.Nevertheless, with months of travel on horseback before us, it was out of the question to attempt it with theordinary horses of the country. I was not willing thatMiriam should ride to her grave on any hack that anordinary mukarri would furnish her. I had thereforetold Abd-el-Atti, within a few days after our arrival inJerusalem, to order all the purchaseable horses in andaround the city to be examined, and a proper selectionbrought to us for our inspection. The scene, when theypresented themselves, was worth an artist's presence.Seven of the sorriest sore-backed animals that a NewYork omnibus company's stables could furnish wouldhave been ashamed to be seen in company with thesemiserable ghosts of horses. Those we had seen at Jaffawere elegant beasts in comparison with these."Are these all that are to be found?""These are the best of them. ""What in the name of heaven are the worst?"“ Bismillah!" and a shrug of the shoulders that wasalmost French.ARABIAN HORSES. 115I shouted for Miriam's donkey, and we trotted off indisgust down the Via Dolorosa out of St. Stephen's gate,while we laughed at the melancholy end of our plans ofpurchasing horses.But further efforts on the part of my worthy dragomanresulted more satisfactorily, and in the end we found ourselves provided with the very animals we wished.Whitely's brown horse was a clean-limbed, active, andstrong beast, while Miriam's chestnut was the perfectionof a half-blood Arabian. Easy, swift, intelligent, and surefooted, he went up and down steep precipitous hillsideswhere I feared to follow with my dark bay Mohammed.That same Mohammed was a magnificent friend; thecompanion of scenes and adventures that will insure hisbeing remembered so long as I remember the HolyLand. He had a devil in his eye that I was sometimesafraid of, but from the day I first bestrode him he servedme faithfully, and no two friends ever became morethoroughly attached to each other than did I and the baysteed Mohammed.We had an excellent mount, altogether. Our horseswere not of pure Arab blood. In this connection a fewremarks may not be ill-timed on the subject of Arabianhorses, to which my attention was drawn by this and byformer incidents in myjourney.There is but little Arab blood in any horses out of theArabian country. Among the Bedouins themselves, it isso rare and valuable that the remark is literally true, ingeneral, that gold will not buy a mare of pure blood.The attachment of the Bedouin to his mare, however, isnot that affection which has been so frequently the subject of poetry and prose. On the contrary, there is nosort of affection existing on the side of the man, and thebeast receives only just so much care and attention aswill insure her against illness and death. Seldom cov-116 ARABIAN HORSES.ered and never housed, it is often a subject of the utmostastonishment that the Arab horses do not perish from exposure. But for their incredible powers of endurance,they would undoubtedly do so. After a long day's journey, or a sharp ride of hours over precipitous paths, without food or water on the way or at the halt, the horse isleft standing in the air, the saddle is not removed, beinga substitute for clothing, as well as a preservative againstsharp stones if she rolls, and while the rider lies underthe shelter of his black tent, or on the ground wrappedin his boornoose, the steed shivers in the desert starlight;but she is no less ready for the road in the morning.Thus, day after day, enduring deprivation of water withalmost the ability of a camel, the horse travels, and , ifwounded, endures the pain and fever of the wound untilactually exhausted; so that, frequently, a wound thatwould lay up any other animal, and that almost hopelessly,is disregarded by both horse and rider, until the end ofalong forced march, when the steed, her work accomplished, sinks under the pain and exhaustion consequenton the long suffering.I have used the female pronoun always, because, asalmost every one knows, the Arabs prefer the mare tothe horse, and this I believe on account of the superiorpowers of endurance of the former.The khamsa (five) breeds of Arab horses are renownedin the world. But it would puzzle any one in this day toname them or tell their origin. The favorite tradition is,that they are descended fromthe five mares ofthe ProphetMohammed, and that these came originally from one com,mon stock, to wit, the Kohailah.Bedouins from the Hejaz give the names of the breedsas follows the Tauaise, Mannikia Yulfa, Saklawee, andKohailah; while the Annazee tribes, east and south ofDamascus, who are much better informed, and fromFINEST BREEDS. 117whom the finest horses are obtained, say that the Merjoub, Mannikia Hedredji, Obeyan Sherakh, and Hedba,are the original khamsa. Other tribes omit one or two ofthese, and substitute others.There are numerous lines of mares derived from these;the Arabs tracing the genealogy by the mother, and not,as we do, by the sire, while there are thousands of crosseswith common breeds that are of no special value or importance.The value of an Arab mare is literally not to be estimated in gold, since no amount of money will effect thepurchase of one of the pure blood. This fact arises fromcauses that are manifest to one who knows the Bedouins.In the first place, money is of no use to an Arab. Heneeds very little for his ordinary purposes, and morewould be an incumbrance-to be buried, given away, orlost. His mare is his life. With her he is free to travelon the desert, to fight or fly, to rob his legitimate enemiesand protect his friends. If he should exchange his marefor gold he would be a fair subject of plunder, withoutthe means of defence or escape, and having no home,would be at a loss to bury his treasure where it would beof practical use to him. In my work on Egypt (page236) I have related an anecdote illustrative ofthese facts.The finest breeds of horses are to be found among theAnnazee and Shaumar tribes east and south-cast of Damascus, extending quite to the Euphrates. But it isonly by accident that an Arab horse of pure blood is everobtained from among them, so that out of hundreds ofhorses imported to England and America as Arabian it isnot probable that until within the last year one horse ofpure blood was ever brought into either country.I met a gentleman in various parts of Syria, who wasfrom New Orleans, and whose object in visiting the Eastwas to obtain these animals. He had by a fortunate oc-118 ARABIAN HORSES.currence obtained one mare, a noble animal, and when Ilast heard of him he was about to go down among theAnnazee to look for others.I have already remarked that gold will not buy anArab mare. The inferior horses, not of high blood , arealways for sale, and bring prices, in the desert, varyingfrom $150 to $750. The color of the Arab horses varies,but is most frequently white or light chestnut. Theyare not large, rarely above 15 hands high, and while atrest none but an experienced horseman would observetheir points. But when in full motion they are gloriousanimals. "A high bred mare should hide her rider between her head and tail," saith the Koran, for the Koranis not silent on the subject of horses, and many of theseanimals nearly perform this duty. I had no expectationof purchasing one of these mares, and was, therefore,content with two fine animals of a low breed, possessingthe qualities which I most desired for the road, gentleness and sound health.Once only had I any fault to find with the bay horseMohammed, and this was but a trifle, for when I was riding,half asleep, over the plain of Esdraelon he lay down onthe ground very quietly, so that I found myself standingwhen I was a moment before sitting.The chestnut never stumbled with Miriam but twice.Riding into the gate of Damascus he made a misstep onthe pavement, a pavement that would have excused anyhorse for a misstep, and fell, luckily not harming hismistress, who did not lose her seat. He threw her downin the mud of the great plain of Baalbec, in a terriblestorm, when death on the dismal wild was before us, andwe were pressing on for dear life to some shelter.that I shall speak hereafter.Of.8.Moriah, Siloam, Zion, Calbary.IF I possessed a veritable portion of the dust that oncewas the right arm of Peter, or of Paul, I should bestrongly tempted " to burn a fragrant lamp" before it.But since this might not be, Miriam has, all through ourtravels there, gathered flowers that have grown from theholy soil, and whose petals were once, perhaps, the dustin the red cheeks of the Magdalen or the pale calm faceof Martha.I had scared up an old Jew, Mordeccai by name, whohad considerable skill in carving stone into variousshapes, and having, in my wanderings about the city, repeatedly seen fine pieces of marble and antique stones,we thought it desirable to collect some of these and havethem cut into paper-weights and other shapes, for preservation.In the wall that bounds the temple inclosure on the east,and which overhangs the valley of Jehoshaphat, there arebuilt many pieces of columns, laid on the wall with theround ends projecting like cannon and built in as the wallwas laid up. Three ofthese are side by side not far fromthe tower and projection, known as the Golden gate, andfrom their character and location there is no reason todoubt that they formed a portion ofthe walls ofthe temple.The commonly-received idea is that they were columns120 MOUNT MORIAH .of the gate which was called Beautiful. Travelers havehammered at these until the ends are mere projectingglobes, and without hammer and chisel it is impossible nowto procure pieces. The Vandalism that thus destroys relics of the ancient days none can more thoroughly detestand condemn than do I-but where I find such antiquesfast disappearing before the hands of the Vandals, I am notso foolish as to refuse to take what I can, and I thereforeborrowed a hammer and chisel of Antonio, and went outone morning and scaled off some pieces of them for amemorial. One column is a very fine porphyry and theother two are verde antique.The Mohammedan women, who sat on tombs around us,looked up, as the sharp sound of the hammer and chiselawoke the silence that always lies with the sunshine onthe valley of Jehoshaphat, but cursed us without movingtoward us. Three or four wandering Arabs looked onfrom a little distance and seemed to wonder whether wewere attempting to break a way into the great inclosureof the mosk, but no one interfered with us. I found onecourse best everywhere in the East. It was to do whatever I had occasion to do as if I had a right so toact, and no one would dream of interfering. On this principle I made thorough examinations of many places ordinarily supposed to be inaccessible, inasmuch as theMoslems took it for granted that I had full right to look,measure, dig, or do as I pleased .Beyond this place, on the slope of Mount Moriah, where,since the fall of Jerusalem, the hill has been a mass ofbroken stone and earth, the ruins of the glorious buildingsthat once crowned the summit, we frequently loitered;and this day longer than usual, selecting pieces of coloredmarble, porphyry, and other stone, which to have polished by Mordecai for the purposes I have mentioned.After this, when within the inclosure of the great mosk,POOL OF 81LOAM. 121I found other pieces lying on the ground, scattered hereand there, as they have lain in the earth for centuries.Passing down into the valley, I now sought out thefountain of the Virgin in a deep excavation under thepile of rubbish, which you reach by a descending flightof steps through an arched passage, and of which the peculiarity is a regular increase and diminution in the flowof the water, which some have taken to be an indicationthat this is the Pool of Bethesda which an angel disturbed.I see no evidence of this. Ofthe antiquity ofthe fountainthere can be no doubt, since Dr. Robinson's wonderful exploration of the subterranean channel, connecting it withthe Pool of Siloam. This channel passes under the hill,called by Josephus Ophla, the southern extremity ofMount Moriah.Following down the valley of Jehoshaphat, turningaround the point of the hill Moriah, and coming a littleway up the valley between it and Zion, I found myselfstanding by the Pool of Siloam, and descending into it,we bathed our eyes in its soft waters. The pool is an excavation about fifty feet long by twenty wide, and asmany deep, walled up with stone, and having several columns lying in and around it, as if they once supported anornamental building. The subterranean passage from thefountain of the Virgin enters the upper end of it, whichis dug in the side of the hill Ophla. There was abouttwo feet depth of water in the pool. It ran out belowinto a canal, cut in the rocky point of Ophla, aroundwhich it flowed, with a musical gurgle not often heardabout Jerusalem, and watered the gardens in the valley ofJehoshaphat, where it was quite lost.In regard to the antiquity and genuineness of this poolthere is no doubt, inasmuch as Josephus locates it at theextremity of the valley of the Tyropeon, where we nowfind it. The early fathers, and all history, have contin6122 MOUNT ZION.ued to call it by the name first used by Isaiah, and thetermination of the rock-hewn aqueduct, which Robinsonso perseveringly and successfully explored, is sufficientevidence ofthe precise location.Not far below this pool, is an old tree, which was oldthree hundred years ago, and is said to mark the spot ofthe martyrdom of Isaiah.Turning up the valley of the Tyropœon, by a roadthat can be likened to nothing out of Syria, while theloose stone lay a foot deep in the path and rolled underour feet at every step, we crossed the valley near theGate ofthe Mograbbin, and followed up the road directlyunder the south wall of the city to Mount Zion.Outside the walls, Mount Zion is occupied by theChristian burial- places and a small collection of houses,one of which is a mosk, and the seat of curious traditions.The basem*nt of the mosk is generally unaccessible toChristians, and is said to contain the tomb of David.Many Christians have entered it, and say that there isnothing to be seen in it worthy of description.We paused for afew moments at the grave of CorneliusBradford, an American who died in Jerusalem, and liesburied among the Latins, on the hill. Turning thentoward the houses, we observed, on the western side ofthem, some women kneeling and kissing a stone wall, andweeping bitterly. I did not then know, as I afterwardlearned, that this was a traditionary site of the house ofMary, the Virgin Mother, and the place where she died.Beyond it was the spot now known as the Conaculum.This building, said to contain the tomb of David, andalso the room in which Christ instituted the Last Supper,is one ofthe oldest in Jerusalem, and deserving of muchmore regard than it has yet received .Cyril mentions a building on this spot where the apostles were said to have been assembled on the day ofTOMB OF DAVID . 123Pentecost, and this may be the building to which he refers. Later than that it was called the Conaculum , andsaid to contain the pillar to which Christ was bound whenhe was scourged. This pillar is now shown in a buildingnear by. The story of the tomb of David is probablyof Mohammedan origin.The reader who has consulted Benjamin of Tudela, willremember the strange story told him by Rabbi Abrahamof certain Jewish workmen, on Mount Zion, digging forthe governor, who opened a vast hall of magnificent proportions and decorations, containing the tombs of Davidand Solomon, with all their riches. A voice of thunderand a storm of wind drove them back from entering it,and it was closed up and never reopened. This fable isin keeping with a tradition still held by the Jews of Jerusalem, that the tomb of David is on Mount Zion, andthat his coflin is unapproachable for the glory that surrounds it. The belief that David himself is the Messiahwho is to come and reign, of course adds to their faith inthis tradition. Many of them believe that this building,of which I now speak, covers his tomb, a belief not a littleencouraged by the fact that the Moslems forbid their approach to it, and they are totally ignorant of its contents.We found an imp of blackness in attendance to preventour descending into the lower part of the building, butwe had free right to look at the large upper room, calledthe place where Christ celebrated that last sad ceremony.It is a large, cold room, dingy and melancholy, with nofurniture; having a mihrab, or niche, in the south side, todirect the faithful toward Mecca, and another on theeast, around which the Christians sometimes assemblefor worship.Near the Zion gate we entered a large isolated building, which is an Armenian convent, and interesting onlyas containing in its court-yard the tombs and monuments.124 AMERICAN JEWS ' HOSPITAL.of the Armenian patriarchs and bishops of Jerusalem.Within a little chapel, a rock, which is built into the altar,is called the stone that closed the Sepulchre of the Lord.They also pointed out to us the spot where Peter stoodwhen the co*ck crew, or where the co*ck stood when he(the co*ck) crew, I am not now quite certain which-andshowed us a pillar, which claims to be the pillar to whichChrist was bound for flagellation, in opposition to one inpossession of the Latins in the Chapel of the Apparition,and sundry other relics which are probably of quite modern origin.It had been my intention to return to the house fromthis place, but I wished to linger awhile among the tombson the hill; and accordingly, sending Betuni for ourhorses and luncheon, we came out of the convent andsat down on the western edge of the hill of Zion, looking down at the lower Pool of Gihon, where traditionsays David saw Bathsheba bathing, and across the valleyat the new works going on for the building of a greatJewish hospital. The credit of this work is due to American Jews, and especially to the late Mr. Touro of NewOrleans; but as Sir Moses Montefiore is the agent of thedisbursem*nt of the money, the fact that it is an Americanwork is entirely concealed from travelers, and not eventhe resident English missionaries to the Jews appeared tobe informed on the subject. In conversation they alwaysspoke ofit as " Sir Moses's new hospital, " and it was onlyby an accident that I learned what it really was.On the arrival of the horses, we rode up the valley ofGihon to the upper pool, a largo squaro pool, walled upwith stone on its four sides, doubtless ancient, which liesnorth-west of the city, and was now about half full ofmuddy water. Hence, striking across the ridge to theJaffa road, we devoted the afternoon to tracing out theline of the ancient third wall, and then to a long, invigorJERUSALEM OF OLD . 125ating gallop down the valley of the Terebinth, whence,in the twilight, we found our way back to the Jaffa road,and approached the walls of the city.Jerusalem is inclosed in high and stately walls.know no more reverend scene than it presents to oneapproaching its closed gates at night, for then it seems.like the Jerusalem of old times, a spectral city, to whosemighty heart he demands admission.Darkness had settled on all the land as we now approached the north-west corner of the walls. Doubtless,in old times as now, the closed gates shut in the inhabitants, and without all was calm and still in the hush ofthenight. It was an involuntary imagination that then andthere made me for an instant forget that I was a coldmodern man, of these faithless latter years.I was a traveler approaching the Holy City, in the dayof its great glory. Those dim lights here and there,faintly visible, marked the spot, and yonder, indistinctlyabove the dark mass, I saw the towers and battlementsof the temple. A silence, profound as that of death, except when broken by the wail of a dog that lay outsidethe gates, reigned everywhere. Within were the throbbing hearts of thousands, and men's souls were moved asnever before since God made man. For in the afternoonthere had been sudden darkness, when it should havebeen broad sunshine in Jerusalem, and men had met,walking in the gloomy streets, the dead men of otherdays the men whom they had wronged, and whosegraves they had believed contained under eternal seal thestories they now heard hissed from their thin and shriveledlips, along the marts they once frequented. There hadbeen, too, on the outer side of those walls a scene, thelike of which had not been known in all the history ofthe sons of Jacob. One of their fellow-men, the son ofapoor carpenter in a remote village, who had from time to120 JERUSALEM OF OLD.time startled their ears with words of sublime import inthe temple, had, by the influence of the chief priests andothers, been seized, tried, and summarily condemned todeath, and in the very hour of his condemnation led outof the walls and crucified.Such scenes were indeed not uncommon, but therewere circ*mstances attending this which made it of extraordinary interest. For those who were present relatedthat, when in the agonies of death, he had cried with aloud voice; that then there was the earthquake whichall had felt, and then the profane gaze of the multitudepenetrated to the holy of holies of the temple, thenceforth no longer sacred, but now forever common; andthen the dead arose, as if to signify that his death hadpower to give life to man. All Jerusalem rang with thestartling story. Men talked ofit, as it was said the commander of the Roman guard had talked, saying that certainly this was a just man, certainly a Son of God.But within a secret place in the city there were gathered a few, men and women, humble and unknownamong their fellow-men, whose names were destinedto go down the rolls of time, and to be forever on thelips of men in eternity. Of the agony and pain of thosesorrowing hearts no human hand can paint the immensity. Each sound in the street startles them-eachpassing footfall sends a shudder of fear through everyframe; and yet with intensest interest they crowdaround and hang upon the lips of Mary of Magdala,who relates how tho cold hands lay passivo as she wraptthem in the clothes, how the weary feet were done withlong, sore travel, and she bound them up in fragrantlinen, what divine lustre, what a smile of glorious hoperested on that ineffable countenance when they hid itaway, and lifted him for the Sabbath rest to his rockycouch in the garden sepulchre. Alas, that he who hadJERUSALEM OF OLD . 127not where to lay his head, at length had found a pillowofrock for everlasting repose.I looked up at the walls as I approached them, but thewarder had left his station, and in the tower below wastalking with his fellows of the day's scenes, and of hisown emotion when he thrust his spear into the side ofthedead victim. And then my eyes swept down the gloomyshadows east and west, and I saw one spot where therewas the darkness as of a clump of trees, and I knewthat within it, in the rocky ledge that ran near there,was a tomb, but the door was closed with a great stone,and a guard sat near it, and one with another wonderedwho he was that lay within cold, and pale, and dead,nor did the crowding myriads of angels make themselvesvisible to men, but gloom, and silence, and profoundrepose were around the sepulchre.The scene was visible before me. This was the Jerusalem, changed indeed, but still Jerusalem of the mountains, Jerusalem of the sons of Israel, of the disciples ofthe Lord.The vision swept by me as we advanced at a gallopdown the slope to the Damascus gate, and made the oldwalls ring to our voices as we shouted for the guard."Hush," said Miriam, and then she shouted. Hervoice went ringing in the Cave of Jeremiah and along thenorthern wall, and died away down the valley of Jehoshaphat. Then the solemn silence again took possession ofevery thing, and we stood in respectful attendance, I hadalmost said awe, before the frowning walls.Then Whitely hammered with his whip-handle on thedoors, and I made a shrill hunting-whistle ring in the oldgateway, and at length the sleepy guard awoke, andheard the magic word bucksheesh, and the great valvesswung on the silver hinges that we made for them, andwe rode into the dark streets of the city.128 THE VIRGIN'S FOUNTAIN.I remember the dreams of that night with the utmostclearness and distinctness. Going down that morninginto the fountain of the Virgin, I had found at the bottom of the steps an old woman, filling a huge jar withwater, which I had helped her lift to her head. All nightlong her face haunted me, for she was Christian, and Ihad seen it plainly in the light that came down the gallery. She was like an old housekeeper, who in my childhood was wont to hold me on her knee and tell me storiesout of the Arabian Nights; and all night unconscious thatI was Braheem Effendi in Jerusalem, I was a boy againin the old house by the river, and troops of genii, andblack servants of Haroun El Raschid, were surroundingme at the call of my old nurse, who now wore a plain capas of old, and now with streaming hair and a water-jaron her head, was the old woman of the Virgin's fountain.9.Where Jesus Wept.SILENT and thoughtful in the Sepulchre, lingering inthe garden of the Passion, under the old olives, or climbing the steep sides of Olivet and pausing to look back onthe holy Jerusalem that lay behind us; standing on thesummit of the minaret and looking into the gorge of theDead Sea, whither the hills went rolling downward, or,pleasantest of all, loitering along that pathway amongthe olives, and along the ridge of the hill that extendsfrom the Church of Ascension to the village of Bethany,the path that he often walked in the mornings and evenings going to and returning from the house of Marthaand Mary; in one or the other ofthese spots, every tree,and stone, and flower of which told us stories of his dailylife and human affections, his final sufferings and histriumph, we found ourselves either in the morning orevening of almost every day.I first went to Bethany on foot, by the path aroundthe southern slope of the Mount of Olives, and havingno guide, found out for myself the reputed tomb of Lazarus.Bethany is on the eastern slope of a spur of the Mountof Olives. It is not, strictly speaking, on the Mount ofOlives itself, unless we are to understand that this hill extends more than a mile and a half, and includes all the

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130 BETHANY.numerous spurs and ridges that go from it to the eastward. The village is now a collection of half-ruined stonehouses built almost on top of each other, and in a shadypathway among the buildings, or rather behind them onthe hill-side, we found the opening of the so- called tomb.The tradition which makes this the spot where one ofthe greatest miracles of Christ was performed is of avery early date. The skeptic who delights in disbeliefhas only to say that there is no satisfactory evidence ofthe authenticity of the spot, and turn away in disdain.Not so I. This was the village of Martha and Mary;and, somewhere here, the Lord of heaven, with humanheart and human eyes, for the comfort and joy of mourners in the weary world thenceforth forever, bowed hishead and wept. Yea, there are somewhere here, stonesthat the tears of Jesus fell upon; and, in the silent sunshine that lay like a dream of glory on the hill- side, Iheard the echo of his sigh.Here that voice was heard, in tones which men thoughtintended to reach the ears of Lazarus who slept, butwhich rang on the distant hills of heaven, and called himback from those sublime abodes.Yea, just here. We have read the story together oftenin our old home, my friend, and we have talked a hundred times of the scene when they rolled back the stone,and Jesus said, " Come forth," as calmly as if his voicewere not intended for those infinite distances to whichLazarus had departed. We have seen the pale Marthaand the loving Mary, gazing with starting eyes and countenances of intensest anguish on the open sepulchre, andwe have heard the wild cry ofjoy unutterable with whichthey sprang to his arms, and clasped him close, and kissedback the stammering questions of astonishment wherewith he again looked on the men and the hill - side ofBethany, I was there! Again the scene was before me,GRAVE OF LAZARUS . 131I was content to believe that this was the tomb whereinhe lay, and this the spot where the Lord welcomed himback to earth and human endurance for yet a little whilelonger.I say I was content to believe it; for I felt little interest in fixing on the identical spot, since it was enough forme to believe that this was Bethany. Inasmuch as it wassomewhere here, and it did no harm to believe that it wasjust here, I was willing to believe it.The steep hill-side is walled up with stone around andover the doorway, to keep the earth from falling andclosing it. The doorway is supported by large stone, andon entering we immediately commenced the descent oftwenty-six steps, which took us down to a chambertwenty-two feet below the level of the doorstep. Thismeasured eleven feet by nine, with an arched roof seventeen feet high in the centre. Descending three feet moreby a door at the side of this chamber, we were in a smallsepulchral room in which doubtless some one of old timeshas rested, and I see no objection to saying that this someone was the brother of Martha and Mary.Coming up from the cold and damp chambers of deathwe rejoiced in the sunlight and the blue sky that overhung the spot. So we sat down on stones, or on theground; and, while one read aloud the thrilling story,the others, without difficulty, recalled the persons andscenes. A group of villagers gathered around us, andstared with curious eyes, and listened with curious ears,to our strange language. Alittle girl, not ungraceful inappearance, brought to Miriam a cup of cold water. Theincident was scriptural, and we marked it so; but, whenMiriam had touched the cup to her lips, all scripturalnotions were astounded to flight by the old sound,"Bucksheesh." Across the road from the tomb, I founda ruin which appeared to be an ancient Mohammedan132 CHURCH OF THE ASCENSION.wely, or tomb; and the earth had accumulated around itso that it was ten feet under ground. This led me to acloser examination of the tomb of Lazarus; and I becamesatisfied that the same increase of ground had taken placehere, possibly from the level of the roof ofthe first chamber; but pious care has constantly kept the stairwayclear, and increased the number of steps as it becamenecessary. The doorway must necessarily be modern;that is, of some period within the later centuries. Inthese old lands, the Crusades appear events of moderntimes; as in Egypt, the infancy of Christ there appears asa thing of yesterday, in comparison with the relics of thedays of Abraham.Again, and yet again, we walked that mountain path toBethany, and gathered flowers along its sides, to be lifelong memorials. It was there that he talked with hisdisciples; there, the fig-tree withered at his command; itwas on that path that he mounted the ass, and rodetriumphant into the city, amid the acclamations of thepeople; the very people, perhaps, who, a few days later,shouted, " Crucify him." It was somewhere along thatpath that he led his disciples, when the bending heavensopened to receive him, and the angels of God conductedhim to his White Throne. Every inch of it was hallowedground; and there was a sanctity about it, that, in myview, surpassed all other places around the Holy City,and made it second in interest only to the Holy Sepulchre.The Church of the Ascension, on the Mount of Olives,is ofearly date; not later than the period of Constantine.Of course, no one of reasonable mind connects the footprint in the rock, which the Mohammedan keeper of themosk shows you for a consideration, with that eventwhich the church was built to commemorate; but I seeno reason to doubt the truth of the tradition which locatesthe ascension on this spot.PLACE OF CHRIST'S ASCENSION. 133The objection offered to it is, that the expression oftheEvangelist, who says, that he led them out " as far as toBethany," is not met by a location on the very summitofthe Mount of Olives, over Jerusalem, more than a milefrom the present village, and probable site of the ancientvillage, of Bethany. But I think nothing can be moreclear than the probability that Bethpage and Bethanywere villages with extensive tracts of land around them,reaching to and adjoining one another. Bethany maywell have included the entire Mount of Olives, or haveapproached so near it, as to be virtually the same.This, I think, is rendered certain, by the account oftheriding into the city on an ass's colt, which is given inMark, xi. 1 , and onward. The expression here used is ,"They came nigh to Jerusalem unto Bethpage andBethany at the Mount of Olives;" quite sufficient toestablish the fact that Bethany was actually at the Mountof Olives.But the statement in the 12th verse of the 1st chapterof Acts, describing the disciples after the resurrection oftheir Lord as returning " unto Jerusalem from the mountcalled Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a Sabbath day'sjourney," sufficiently settles that the ascension was fromthis mountain, and leaves open only the question how fardoes the mountain called Olivet extend, for the evidenceof all history is abundant that the hill directly over thevalley of Jehoshaphat is and always was so called since thedays when " David went up by the ascent of Olivet andwept as he went up," and all the people " went up weeping as they went up, " for the rebellion of Absalom.The hill, on the slope of which the ruined village ofBethany now stands, is no more the same hill with thisOlivet than Moriah is the same with Zion. The distancefrom one to the other is more than an English mile, andthe continuity of the ridge is broken by deep depressions,134 PLACE OF CHRIST'S ASCENSION .interlocking valleys and all the ordinary obstructionswhich would cause the hill to be called two, three, or fourhills. But the ancient Bethany of Martha and Mary andLazarus was located fifteen furlongs from Jerusalem, asfar as the present village, and yet Bethany was at theMount of Olives. It appears to me that we can reconcilethese facts well enough, and only, by supposing thatBethany as a locality included farms, country seats andgrounds, which extended quite to the summit of theMount of Olives, while the village and the residence ofthe friends of our Lord was located as we now find it.At all events, if Bethany was at the Mount of Olives,and that mount " nigh to Jerusalem, " and Christ led hisdisciples out " as far as to Bethany," I see no reason todispute the assertion of any man who tells us that thischurch marks the spot of the ascension, since it is on thevery summit of the Mount of Olives. The voice whichdeclares the spot to be such is of the third century, forthe church was built before A.D. 330, as even the mostskeptical Orientalists agree. I shall elsewhere speak ofthe absurdity of men of the nineteenth century disputingon sacred localities with the men of the third, whosegrandfathers had heard the preaching of Peter, and knewmen who saw the crucifixion, and had heard from theEleven the story of the ascension . If there be one spoton all the earth's surface where man's devotion wouldhallow the very clods, and patriarchs lead their childrento tell them the solemn story of its sanctity, it is thespot where the disciples, just wakened to the grand ideaof their Lord's resurrection, and the mighty achievementof a world's salvation, beheld him last as the white wings.of his angels enfolded and hid him.The Christians of the early centuries were less thanhuman if there was a day when they were not foundkneeling on that spot, The heart of every man, not toAROUND JERUSALEM. 135say every Christian, tells him that the very promise ofthe angels in white apparel that this same Jesus should socome in like manner as they had seen him go into heaven,would keep them ever after on that spot " gazing steadfastly" toward the heaven that had received him. I cannot admit the possibility of an error in that locality withinthree hundred years after the ascension of the Lord.It was on our return from Bethany one Friday afternoon on horseback that we made a complete circuit ofJerusalem.Whitely proposed to try our horses on a steady run,with only such interruptions as the ground would makenecessary, and this " encompassing of Jerusalem” we accomplished.We started from the tomb of the Virgin in the valleyof Jehoshaphat, where the bridge crosses the dry bed ofthe brook Kedron, at the corner of the wall of Gethsemane. Miriam sat on a rock under the shadow of thewall of the garden and waited our return. The pace waseasy as we ascended the slope of the hill toward the gateof St. Stephen. Turning off to the right we increasedour speed as we surmounted the ridge, and passingamong, and, I am afraid I must say, over some Moslemtombs, rounded the north- east corner of the walls at arattling pace, which we kept up till we passed the Damascus gate, in the middle of the north wall of the city.Here the gentle rise and hard road toward the north-westcorner gave us a chance for a fair run. Wo went neckand neck across the highest point of the ridge and turneddown the valley of Gibon into the great Jaffa road. Arabsand Christians cleared the way as we approached theJaffa gate, and we made a terrible scattering among agroup of Greek women who sat on low benches in thesunshine that warmed the western wall. As we passedthe gateway the guard turned out to see the race,136 LEPERS.and we went up the slope of Mount Zion in grandstyle, Mohammed leading a full length, and both horsesdoing gallantly. As we turned the south-west cornerI was for a moment puzzled as to a path through theChristian cemetery, not knowing which would take me bythe Zion gate, and as I hesitated Whitely went by melike a whirlwind, cleared the rocks that lay in front ofthenew Protestant cemetery at a flying leap, and led the wayin a short turn around the " house of Caiaphas" and bythe gate of Zion down toward the Bab el Mograbbin.Here the speed necessarily slackened. The sharp turnsand uncertain paths through the valley of the Tyropaonand over the point of Moriah bothered us both. Werode on side by side, without breaking the run, and turning the south-east corner of the temple wall and of thewhole city, had a long slope down to the second bridgeover the Kedron near the tomb of Absalom. Here thespeed became tremendous and Jehu's ghost might bepardoned for rising to behold us as we crossed the drybed of the brook, passed the monolithic tomb, and drew upat the wall of Gethsemane, where Miriam had waited justtwenty-eight minutes since we started in the other direction. It is therefore possible to ride on horseback aroundthe walls of Jerusalem without breaking a canter, but Imust add, not without some risk to your neck. Thehorses were not blown. We mounted again in a fewminutes, and riding back to the Zion gate entered the citythere, our object being to see the small community oflepers who inhabit an isolated collection of huts justwithin that gate.The disease now known as leprosy may be the samethat was so known in Scripture, but does not answer ourideas of it. These lepers intermarry only with each other.The children seem healthy and grow to maturity withoutdisease. It shows itself in adult life, and at length limbsJEWS' QUARTER.137become distorted, bones disappear, features vanish fromthe face, and a horrible object, a mass of loathsome diseaseand deformity lies in the street or the gate to demand, byits silent horror, the charity of the well and strong.I met often, in Egypt, with cases of a disease more likewhat I imagined the ancient leprosy to be, but I sawnone ofit in Syria. This was a drying and whitening ofthe skin usually commencing on the breast and progressing over the entire body, resulting in painful sores andentire prostration of the system. It is considered incurable by the natives, and they have great apprehensionof it, but no aversion to persons who have it. The lepersof Jerusalem are a distinct class. It is a subject of wonder that they do not run out, totally isolated as they arefrom all the other population.Sending our horses homeward, we walked through theJews' quarter, which is on Mount Zion. Many prettyfaces, bright black eyes, and olive complexions, lookedout on us from the doors and windows as we went by,but we saw no men. It then occurred to me that it wasFriday and they would, doubtless, be found at the placeof wailing. I was never more thoroughly lost than nowin the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem, and, the men beingall absent, I could not find a person who understoodArabic or any European language that I could speak.The women were nearly all Polish or Russian. At lengthI succeeded in getting a boy to understand that I wantedto go to the Jewish place of prayer, and he led us intotheir principal synagogue. It was not what I wished, butit was worth the incident to find myself in a place thatwas the legitimate successor of those of old times in whichthe Saviour was accustomed to speak on the Sabbath day.But as the sun was going westward, and the Sabbath dayrapidly approaching, we hastened toward the place of wailing. I found my own way, up one street, down another,138 JEWS' PLACE OF WAILING.through narrow alley after alley, and at last emerged suddenly in a small paved court or place, seventy or a hundredfeet long by twenty broad, the east side of which was thehigh wall of massive stones on the west side of the moskinclosure, which is without doubt the same wall that stoodhere, inclosing the temple in the days of its great glory.In this place the Jews are accustomed to assemble, andwith low murmurs of prayer to bewail the desolation ofthe holy places. Moslem rule forbids their nearer approachto their once holy hill. But this little spot, for many centuries, has been hallowed by their adoring grief.The impression made on my mind bythe scene herewitnessed will never be effaced. Men, women, and children, of all ages, from young infants to patriarchs of fourscore and ten, crowded the pavement and pressed theirthrobbing foreheads against the beloved stones. Therewas no formality of griefhere. We waited till the crowd.had thinned away and only a dozen remained . Thesewere men of stately mien and imposing countenances.Their long beards flowed down on their breasts, andtears, not few, ran down their cheeks and fell on thepavement. There was one man of noble features that weespecially noticed, whose countenance for more than halfan hour seemed unmoved by any emotion of earth, savingonly that of deep grief, too deep for expression. I approached close to him, but he did not look up at me. Hesat on the pavement, his back to a wall of a house or agarden, and his face to the wall that once inclosed theshrine of his ancestors. I looked over his shoulder andsaw that he was reading the mournful words of Isaiah,nor did I then wonder that he wept for the mockery thatnow occupied the place of the solemn services of the dailysacrifice, and the senseless Moslem traditions which, invain, essayed to cloud the glorious history of the Mountain ofthe Lord.JEWS' PLACE OF WAILING. 139Evening came down, and with the sunset the Sabbathcommenced. Still some old men lingered, and still welingered too, for the scene was one not to be witnessedelsewhere on all the earth, the children of Abraham approaching as nearly as they dared to the holy of holiesand murmuring in low voices of hushed grief, and sobs ofanguish, their prayers to the great God of Jacob. Somekissed the rocky wall with fervent lips, some knelt andpressed their foreheads to it, and some prayed in silent,speechless grief, while tears fell like rain-drops beforethem.I was deeply moved, as one might well be in the presence of this sad assembly; the last representatives, nearthe site of their ancient temple, of those who oncethronged its glorious courts and offered sacrifices to theGod who has so long withdrawn his countenance fromthe race.A more abject race of men can hardly be imaginedthan are the down-trodden children of Israel in the cityof their fathers, except when they assemble here wherethe majesty of their grief demands respect from everyhuman heart.The English mission to the Jews which is located here,is, I believe, in a measure successful. We met BishopGobat and several other gentlemen connected withthe mission, at the residence of Mr. Finn, the Britishconsul, where we passed a pleasant evening. Travelershave frequently expressed their obligations to Mr. Finn,for his courtesy and kindness which they have always experienced, especially American travelers, who have longfelt the want of an American consul at Jerusalem, whocan speak English and understand Americans. *The condition of the Jews in their ancient city is abjectSince this was written I am informed that an American gentlemanhas been sent out as consul to Jerusalem .140 JEWS IN JERUSALEM.in the extreme. Vast numbers of them are exceedinglypoor. They have a custom which allows these to beg ofother Jews two days in the week. They are limited intheir demands to one para, about the eighth part of a cent.It is a remarkable fact, that in no country in the world,America, Europe, Asia, or Africa, have I ever met a Jewwho begged of me; and I have no doubt every readerof this will be able to say the same ofhimself. The Jewstake care of their own poor.There is one hospital for Jews in Jerusalem, establishedby a Rothschild, which has eighteen beds. Thero is, Ibelieve, another, connected with the English mission; andthere are some smaller of which I know nothing. TheAmerican hospital will be the noblest work by far yetaccomplished for the benefit of the Jews in Jerusalem.Before it was quite dark we visited another part of thewestern wall of the area of the mosk and ancient temple,which is now very properly known by the name of its discoverer as Robinson's Arch, and with which the name ofthat distinguished scholar will be, I hope, forever connected as a monument of his learning and research.The huge stones whichform this broken relic of a greatarch were often noticed as doubtless portions ofthe ancienttemple walls, but no one, till Dr. Robinson's visit in 1842,imagined them to be what he immediately named them,the remains ofthe great bridge, which Josephus describesas connecting Zion and the temple.One ofthe stones is crumbling to pieces; and a brokenpiece of this, which I added to my collection of relics, Ithink myself safe in believing, without doubt, a part ofthe identical walls of the ancient temple, possibly of thetemple of Solomon.In closing this chapter I may add, by way of answer tothe repeated queries that all men make about Jerusalem,that there are many portions of the wall that inclosed theANCIENT JERUSALEM. 141temple courts now standing; and there is no reasonabledoubt whatever that they have ever been moved sincethey were originally laid.On the eastern side of the inclosure, the wall that overhangs the valley of Jehoshaphat is largely composed ofimmense blocks of stone, some of which I found to measure twenty-three feet by five and a half, and their thickness, that of the wall, from five to seven feet. Thesestones are evidently of ancient times and in ancient positions. Of the relics of those times within the sacred inclosure I shall speak in another chapter. When I cometo speak of the topography of ancient Jerusalem, I shallremark on the common error which supposes that Jerusalem was overthrown and demolished by Titus. For thepresent, it is enough to say that the prophecy of Christ,which is often referred to, of the total demolition of thestone structures of the temple, if at all literal, had reference only to the buildings themselves, which are nowgone; but parts ofthe inclosing walls, and the crypts thatformed the foundations ofthe southern parts ofthe temple,remain to this day.A10.The Monks and the Tombs.COUNT all the years of your life, my friend, and if youare any thing less than a century old, I will pledge youmy word you have not lived in all those years so much asI lived in the short time I was in the city of David. Torise in the morning early, and go along the Way ofGriefto the gate of St. Stephen, and out on the brow ofMoriah, there to see the sun rise over Olivet; to godown and wash your eyes, heavy with sleep, in the softwaters of Siloam, that they might never ache again; toclimb the sides of Mount Zion, and come in by Zion gate,and so up the streets of the city to the Holy Sepulchre;to visit Calvary and the Tomb; to press your knee on thecold rock where the first footsteps of the risen Saviourwere pressed; and then, as the twilight came on, and themoonlight fell softly in the valley, to go down to Gethsemane and pray! Think of days thus spent, of day afterday of such hallowed life, varied with morning walks toBethany, or an afternoon canter over the hills of Bethlehem, or two days' journeying down the way of the wil- derness to wash off the dust of life in the Jordan! Thinkof all this, and tell me if I did not live years in hourswhile I called it my home, in the house of Antonio on the Via Dolorosa!It was always pleasant to visit the Convent ofthe TerraMONKS OF TERRA SANTA. 143Santa, where I found a welcome from the excellent Superior and the Procurator-general, which added to myconvictions of the genuine hospitality and kind feeling ofLatin monks of the Holy Land. The convent occupies alarge space in the north-western corner ofthe city, and furnishes abundant accommodation for Latin pilgrims, who,although once by far the most numerous of the visitors tothe sacred places, are now, perhaps, the most rare. Theimmense processions that in old days poured down thebanks of the Danube and, crossing the Bosphorus, came,foot-worn and weary, to the gate of Jerusalem, there to lieand wait until some wealthy pilgrim, like Robert, fatherofWilliam the Norman, should arrive and pay their tribute or toll-money, without which they would perish onthe very threshold of their desired resting- place, havelong since ceased to be known. Armenians, Greeks, andeven Copts and Abyssinians, still throng the holy placesabout the week of Easter, but the Latin pilgrims fromEurope are " few and far between." Circ*mstances thatno human power can control have brought about thischange. The poor pilgrims who have no means to paytheirpassage across the sea, can not now, as formerly, traversethe land. Greece, Austria, and Turkey offer impassablebarriers to the wandering pilgrim from Italy; and menwho attempted the barriers of the kingdom of Vienna, onthe plea of being pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre, would,especially if in any force, find their way to dungeonsncarer home.But, to the credit of the Convent of the Terra Santa,be it said that no religion is a bar to the hospitality of itswalls, and no man is forbidden to rest in it by reason ofbeing Protestant, Infidel, or Jew. Before the establishment of hotels in Jerusalem, all travelers were in thehabit ofgoing to one or the other of the religious houses.In anticipation of such a necessity, I had provided my144 LATIN CONVENT.self, at Cairo, with a letter from the Armenian bishopthere, to the Wakil, or agent of the bishop, in Jerusalem,asking him to provide me rooms in the convent, on MountZion, of which I shall speak hereafter. I have alreadyrelated that I took rooms elsewhere. I made an appointment one morning, however, for a special visit to the LatinConvent, to see certain things not often exposed to thegaze of travelers, and for the pleasure of seeing which, Iwas indebted again to my friend Mr. Pierotti, throughwhom I had become acquainted with the Franciscanbrothers ofthe Convent of the Terra Santa.The war which has so long existed between the Greekand Latin churches in Jerusalem, is unhappily rivaled byan intestine trouble in the latter church, of the merits ofwhich I had full explanations in repeated conversationswith my friends at the convent, but which I have nospace to go into, nor my reader the desire to hear. Theresult of it , however, has been, that for many years thetreasures of the Holy Sepulchre belonging to the Latinchurch, and which formerly adorned the Sepulchre inEaster week, are now strictly concealed in the Conventof the Terra Santa, and the approach of the Patriarch, orany ofhis division, is most sedulously forbidden.The wealth of Europe has for centuries been lavishedon the Sepulchre. As I have before remarked, I had beengreatly disappointed at the brass and trumpery which Ifound there in place of the richness I had expected. Thefact is, that each party, being desirous of retaining thosetreasures, and the Franciscans having possession of them,they are no longer exhibited to the public, but are keptin a concealed part of the convent.I entered the room of the venerable Superior, a noblelooking man, with whom I had had not a little pleasantintercourse. Seated in his diwan, I drank a glass ofrosolio, and another of arrakee, and after chatting a fewLATIN CONVENT. 145moments, went up to the room of the Procurator- general,where I was accustomed to look at a splendid Murillo, apicture of St. John in the Wilderness, which adorned itswall, and in front of which we usually found much bettertipple than John had in the wilderness.Indeed, I may remark just here, that it requires a veryhard head indeed, to escape sober from an eastern con-.vent. The excellent Fathers keep most capital wines andliquors, which they themselves use very temperately, ifat all, but which they press most hospitably on theirguests. At the Convent of the Terra Santa, in Jerusalem, after drinking with the Father Superior, andafterward with the Procurator- general, we seldom escaped except through the medicine department, wherethe reverend Father who had charge of the immense.store of drugs and medicines for pilgrim use, always hada bottle of rare old arrakee, that flowed like oil, and ofwhich he always insisted on your taking one of thosesmall glasses that whet the appetite for a second and athird, so that, on my faith, it was a difficult thing to refuse the rosolio with whichhe gave you the coup de grace,and you had need to look to your brain if you would notlose command of it.I had a strong temptation always before me in themiserably disarranged library of the convent, which consisted chiefly ofold Spanish theological books, but in whichthere were piles of unknown stuff that I much desiredtime to finger. It was some consolation, however, to reflect that, beyond a doubt, a hundred manuscript- seekershad been before me in the search, and it was not likelythere was any thing to repay the labor of looking.We were led into a remote room where was nothingto attract attention, nor would a stranger have supposedthat it contained such treasures as we found in drawers,and cases, and closets. In the drawers were the robes of7146 CONVENT TREASURES.the Patriarch, gorgeous with jewels and gold. I had nomeans of estimating their value, except by comparingthem with some which I had seen in the Crystal Palaceat Paris during the previous summer, and in comparisonwith these I had no difficulty in believing the monks, whostated the several costs of each dress as it was produced."This was a present from the King of Spain. It costa hundred thousand francs of France. This was given byNapoleon the Great. It was worth a half million. Thiswas from the Emperor of Austria, this from the Kingof Naples;" and thus they continued until they hadshown us something like twenty of those splendid giftsof royalty to the service of the Church ofthe Ascension .These robes were accompanied, each by its own propersuites of other articles of dress, which I am not able toname technically, nor the general reader to understand.any better if I were. In a closet, fitted up expressly forit, were hung, pendent from the top, a number of lamps,of superbly-chased gold and silver, with which in formertimes it was customary to replace the brazen lamps ofCalvary and the Tomb on important occasions. In drawers below these, were the jewels of the patriarchate,diamonds, emeralds, and rubies, flashing on superb croziers and heavy rings.The Patriarch has obtained possession of the most valuable crozier, but the two which I saw here were estimated at thousands of dollars, how many I have quiteforgotten. Indeed, I became puzzled with the splendorthat surrounded me, and after coming away, found it difficult to recall the different articles I had seen, so manyand similar in value were they.In one corner of a large room, lay a huge pile, whichappeared like the corner of a tinman's shop, and had notmy attention been especially directed to it, I should havethought it a collection of old tinware, pans and water-CONVENT TREASURES. 147leaders, gutters, spouts, and such chandeliers as I remeinber to have seen in old times in the church at Liberty, inSullivan county, when I was taking trout on the Willoweemock.This proved to be a heap of solid silver, more in weightwe believed than a half ton, consisting of various churchornaments, and especially of huge candelabra, standingover seven feet high from the floor, wrought in beautifulshapes ofthe solid metal, and heavier than one man couldwell lift. Near this, some rough doors, on a temporarycloset being opened, disclosed an altar, or a shrine, ofthesame white metal, pure, rich, and elegant, more than sixfeet high and four in breadth, wrought in gothic andother forms, beautifully chased and finished. It was apresent from some crowned head in years long past, andit has been treasured in a garret chamber of the conventfrom the day it was received. Whether it will ever seethe light is a question I can not answer. It may lie therea hundred years, to be seen only by such chance travelersas father Stephano shall be induced to guide to the treasure room.The wealth contained in this chamber I have no meansof estimating. Taking the value of the articles at theiroriginal cost, I have no doubt there were many hundredthousand dollars' worth; but in the present state of thefaded robes, of which the value of many consists only inthe jewels with which the cloth of gold is studded, andthe massive silver candelabra, and shrines, and altar furniture, which are to be estimated only by weight, I amtotally without the means of giving even an approximateguess at the wealth of the Convent of the Terra Santa.I should not call it theirs, for they regard it strictly asthe Lord's property, and the evidence of this is, that foryears these heaps of gold, and silver, and jewels have lainuntouched in the custody of the Franciscan brothers, and148 RELICS AND ROSARIES.there is no one on earth to call them to account for anyappropriation they might see fit to make of the value.Returning from the chamber of treasures, I wanderedalong the great gallery of the convent, where every littlecell, appropriated to the pilgrim guests, had on its doora skeleton picture, by way of a memento mori, and atlength arrived at the relic and rosary chamber, wherethe great trade in rosaries and articles of Jerusalem andBethlehem manufacture is carried on. The shelves werecovered with beads of every color and shape, wroughtfrom the hard fruit of the Dom palm, which is in fact avariety of the so-called vegetable ivory; figures of theSaviour and the Virgin, and other holy characters, carvedon the mother of pearl shell of the Red Sea; cups andcrucifixes of the common stone of Jerusalem; paperweights and images in the black bitumen stone of theDead Sea; rosaries, crosses, and various articles, made ofthe olive-wood of the surrounding hills. The store ofthese articles seemed sufficient to supply the world.They are wrought chiefly at Bethlehem, where, I mayremark, in passing, the traveler will find the most skillfulcarver of shell, in the shape of Esau, a Christian underthe protection of the Convent of the Nativity; but Imay add, the traveler will find him much sharper thanhis illustrious namesake, and wholly disinclined to sell anything for a mess of pottage that is not worth at leasttwice as much.Mindful of a number of friends in America who wouldprize these memorials, as well as of those who would notvalue them the more for having been laid on the Sepulchre and in the socket of the Cross, but who would usethem as bracelets and similar ornaments, whose valuewould consist in the mere fact that they were made atBethlehem, and sold in the Convent of the Terra Santaat Jerusalem, I purchased a pile of these curious beads,ARMENIAN CONVENT . 149which, I am happy to say, the taste of my Americanfriends has loudly approved, and I do not perceive thattheir reputed sanctity is any bar to their acceptance ingood society at home. It is very certain that no onewho possesses one of the olive-wood rosaries hesitates torelate to any one who sees it where it came from, and Ihave not seen any who desired to conceal the fact that ithad been laid on the Holy Places.I went the same day to visit the Armenian Convent,and make a formal call on the bishop. The building occupies a large portion of Mount Zion, and the gardensrun along the south-western wall of the city, almost fromthe Jaffa gate to that of Zion.Entering the gloomy archway of the convent, andlingering for a few moments in the church, which ismuch the most rich and elegant in Jerusalem, we wentup at length to the grand hall of reception, where wewere informed that the bishop was engaged in the afternoon prayer in one of the chapels, and we sat down onthe diwan to wait his arrival.He at length came, a venerable man, with white andflowing beard, attended by four of his clergy, all simplydressed in plain black gowns, and all exceedingly politeand affable. The bishop insisted on giving Miriam hisown seat in the cushioned corner of the diwan, wheresome shawls indicated the place of honor, while he tooka seat at my side and talked in a very low tone of voice,and in the manner of a kind old man. There was awarming of the heart that I can not well describe whenever I approached those old guardians of the sacredplaces, and more perhaps toward this man than to anyother, for the venerable appearance which he presented.He asked me about the bishop in Cairo, and then thenews from the war, which, as late comers from the seacoast, we were likely to know of. We inquired about the150 SOAP.statistics of Jerusalem, of the number of Christians, Mohammedans, and Jews in the city, and on these latter subjects I found him abundantly well informed, and willingto give me the information. Moreright, who accompanied me, or whom I accompanied, for the appointmentwas his, engaged the old man, while I talked with one ofthe other clergymen. The talking on their part was carried on in Armenian, but the interpreter was able tospeak very little English, and the conversation lagged.At this moment it seemed suddenly to flash throughthe mind of the bishop that we were from America, andhe laid his white hand on my shoulder and said (I understood that of course by his tone, and needed no interpreter):"You are American?"Of course I assented . A smile passed over his fine oldface as he spoke, and the interpreter gave it to me."He says he has heard of America. ""I am glad to know it. It is a great country."He wouldn't knowthat I was not original in that remark.But his next rather staggered me. I was watching hiswords, as was my custom when a man spoke in a languagethat I knew nothing about, and I distinctly heard a wordI knew."The bishop say, good soap in America. ""Ye-es," thought I, as I looked in perfect amazementat the old man's black and deep still eyes. He couldn'tbe quizzing me. What the deuce could he mean by soap.I asked Murad, the interpreter, what he said."He say soap.""Ye-es-don't he talk Arabic?-ask him to speakArabic."It wasn't to be mistaken-the old man looked at mepatronizingly as he said in pure dialect of the Hejaz,"You have good soap in America. " He said so-saboneARMENIAN CONVENT. 151is soap in every oriental tongue, and I had heard theword in his Armenian. But I looked in horror to Whitelyand Moreright for help; and as for Miriam, she was absolutely buried, face and eyes, in the cushions, and I couldn'tcatch a sympathizing look."Tell him, Yes"-and he told him yes, and then Iadded that we were celebrated for the article, but we didmore in the soft soap line, importing our best of the hardsort from France. And then the good old fellow relatedto me how he had once in Stamboul bought some soapthat came from America and found it capital . It wasn'tsoft, but it made his hands soft-and-and on the wholehe agreed with me that America was a great country inthe article of soap, and I didn't endeavor to enlightenhim further on the subject of our magnificence.But as we came out of his room we received his farewell blessing, kindly given and thankfully received, for hewas a good, simple-hearted old man. We brought withus very pleasant recollections of him.Wo climbed the staircase to the roof of the convent,and there beheld a view that I shall forget when I forgetJerusalem. Far down in the south-east was the deepgorge of the Dead Sea, and a storm that had been pouring its floods on the city had gone down there, and wassweeping through the hollow, where the rays of a crimsonsun, just setting, were shining on it. It was as if the citiesof the plain were consuming before our eyes, and thesplendor of their burning were going up to heaven as wegazed. And then the storm went on, and the red light,that was not shining on Jerusalem at all, fell on the mountains of Moab, and they stood like hills of gold beyondthe black chasm in which for so many thousands of yearsthe excented vengeance of God has lain.The convent grounds are surrounded by dry walls ofstone, which will attract the traveler's eye and cause his152 CHAMPAGNE.wonder. A story is told thereof; that not long ago theArmenians having been long desirous to build a newconvent and guest rooms, and having been refused permission, at length devised a plan to accomplish their desires. They invited the pasha to a feast, and when theyhad gotten him tolerably drunk on Champagne, whichsome Mussulmans do not think is wine within the prohibition of the prophet, he found alarge pile of gold in hisplate, and in the depths of his good feeling granted thedesired permission to erect walls and inclose a building.The next day they commenced work, but he, now sober,unwilling to recall his permit, thought to render it uselessbyforbidding them to use mortar. They proceeded, nevertheless, with so much success, in building dry walls, thatthe prohibition was revoked, and they were allowed to goon in the usual way. The dry walls remain, as far as finished, a monument of their industry. So saith the story,which Armenians and Moslems agree (for once) in sayingis a slander.I think it was on the morning after my visit to theArmenian Convent that we were seated as usual afterbreakfast in the dining room of our house on the ViaDolorosa, and I interrupted Whitely's reveries."Wake up, Whitely. Rouse yourself, old fellow. Youwill vanish in a cloud of smoke some pleasant morning inJerusalem.""What pleasanter apotheosis could one desire or prayfor, O Braheem Effendi? Let me rest here in hopes ofsuch blessed evanishment. "He was seated in front of-no, he was all around thestove in the dining room, and he had piled in the olivewood stumps till it roared and blazed furiously. IIischibouk was redolent of delicate Latakea, and Dr. Robinson's three volumes, Eothen, the Crescent and theCross, Dr. Olin, and a Bible, were on his lap.TO THE TOMBS . 153"I say, Mr. Whitely," asked a traveler, who by chance.had come in for a call that morning, being one of a partythat were up at the Mediterranean hotel, " can you tellme, Mr. Whitely, in what part of the Bible I can find thatpassage, that ' Jordan is a hard road to travel? We thinkof going down to the Jordan to-morrow, and we weretrying to look up the passages in the Bible about it. ""Reckon you'd better look in the Lamentations ofJeremiah," said , who was seated in the deep window, bargaining for Bethlehem beads with a man in thecourt below. ""For Jerusalem's sake, shut that window," shoutedWhitely; "I should think the wind was from Lebanonthis morning. Where are you going to-day, BraheemEffendi?""To the tombs. ""What tombs?""Samson's and Gideon's, Jael's and Solomon's, John'sand Mary's, and Salome's and Ruth's, and all the otherwomen, and—”"Hang the women. ""Unrighteous infidel! Well, then, the tombs of theProphets. ""Hang the prophets. ""Scoffing unbeliever. "Whereupon he threw the first volume of Robinson atme, and it went through the glass window behind me,and struck Ferrajj precisely between his white eyes as hostood looking up to Miriam, who was giving him someorders about her donkey. But it did not disturb theNubian's temper, prince of good servants that he was,Ferrajj the trusty. He shook his head, picked up thebook, and a moment later stalked into the room with agrin on his countenance, and handed it to Whitely, whowas meanwhile pufling furiously at the end of his chibouk-154 TOMB OF HELENA.. stick and flourishing an unopened bottle of claret, withwhich he threatened me if I dared approach him."Ferrajj, get the donkey ready."" It's raining, sir. ”"Well-what if it is-are you afraid of wetting yourskin? You would do well to take the donkey into thekitchen and get him ready there, then.”Five minutes later the rain was over, and wefound thedonkey actually in the kitchen by Hajji Mohammed's fire ,for the Nubian never could appreciate irony or a joke,and had taken my remark as serious.The tombs around Jerusalem have been so frequentlydescribed that I do not propose to devote any largeamount of space to them in the present work. Themost extensive and, perhaps, the most interesting, is thatknown as the Tomb of the Kings, but which is, withoutdoubt, the tomb of Helena, widow of Monobazus kingof Adiabene, who died in Jerusalem (having adoptedJudaism) in the reign of Claudius Cæsar, and with whichall readers of works on Jerusalem are familiar. It is situated on the table-land north of the city, and is excavated in the rock, having a portico, from which thecolumns are broken away, looking out into a sunkencourt cut also in the rock. At some distance beyondthis a much greater distance, I very well remember, thanwe had imagined, for Whitely, Moreright, and I walked,while Miriam rode, and we were not a little fatigued bythe expedition- we found the so-called Tombs of theJudges, a name perhaps derived from some one's ideathat there were seventy niches in the tomb, that being.the number of the Judges of the Sanhedrim .This is an extensive tomb, containing many chambers,cach having rows of niches for bodies. But no indicationwhatever can be found of its date, and the interest connected with it is necessarily purely imaginary. TheVARIOUS TOMBS. 155same may be said of hundreds of rock- hewn tombs in the .hill-sides, north, east, and south of Jerusalem. Theyabound everywhere. Whenever an upright rock wasfound for a doorway, they hewed into it a resting- placefor the tired sons of Jacob.Here the men of those old times were accustomed tofind that rest which all men, in all ages, have needed andfound. It was at least a melancholy interest that I tookin looking into these now empty chambers, and peoplingthem with the living forms of those whose dust had goneto dust within them, and was scattered afterward on thesurrounding soil to become part thereof. In one I ventured the imagination that the stout arm of Joab mouldered, and in another I even dared fancy the presence ofthe beautiful Shunamite. Here those who had heardthe wisdom of Solomon, who fought with Rehoboam,who saw the crucifixion of the Lord, slept after life.Somewhere, in the valleys, on the hill- sides around theHoly City, is even now the precious dust of such men asblind Bartimeus, who, though healed at Jericho, mightwell have followed his Saviour to the Cross, and wepthis old eyes blind again at the Sepulchre; Lazarus, whomthere was none to raise when he, old and weary, slept asecond time; and of such women as Martha, and Salome,and Mary.Coming down the valley of Jehoshaphat and passingby the so- called tombs of Absalom, of Zacharias, andthe Cave of James, and, on the hill-side near the villageof Silowan, the monolith that is called the tomb of Solomon's Egyptian wife, we sought the hill of Aceldama,which lies south of the valley of Ben Hinnom, and opposite the extreme point of Ophla, which is the falling off ofthe hill of Moriah.The point where the valley of Ben Hinnom runs intothe valley of Jehoshaphat is in many respects interesting.156 ACELDAMA.The Pool of Siloam lies on the inner side of Ophla, ashort distance above the point of junction.The Well of Job, as it is called, lies in the broad valley below the junction. Its interest consists in the undoubted fact that it is the En Rogel of Scripture mentioned in Joshua xv. 7, and xviii. 16. Its present nameAyub is possibly from the founder of the Ayubites.The tradition which makes the slope and top ofthesouthern hill the Aceldama of the New Testament, datesfrom a very early period, but my reader perhaps feels aslittle interest as I in determining its truth. More engrossing was the present aspect of the hill, the slope ofwhich is almost honeycombed with tombs, some of considerable architectural interest. The principal one of theseis a tomb discovered not many years since, and barelyreferred to by modern travelers, who appear to have butglanced at its front, or only entered it to come immediately out.All these tombs were in fine positions. For there istaste in selecting the spot to rest. Could the men whoslept here have realized their desires, it would have beenthe grandest spot for the morning of awakening on allthe surface ofthe earth.Jew and Mohammedan alike believing that the Judgment would occur over the valley of Jehoshaphat, thesesleepers, could they realize their hopes, would have comefrom the rocky doors of their graves, and beheld beforethem Mount Zion and Mount Moriah in all their statelygrandeur, and the footsteps of the Judge on the Mountof Olives. It was a grand place to lie and wait the Judg ment.The first tomb that struck me as of special interest wasone which opens with a plain front. The second room inthis tomb was square, but the ceiling was dome-shaped,with a round spot in the centre, and radiating lines fromINTERESTING TOMB. 157it, the spaces between the lines hollowed out like thefluting of a column. The resemblance between this andthe subterranean arches in El Aksa struck me forcibly.In the third room were two side niches with arched tops,and four graves. The three rooms constituted the tomb.The first or outer one being roofed with a pointed arch,hewn in the rock, and the front walled up. This tomb isnow used as a stable, as indeed are all which are accessibleto cattle.That touching and beautiful custom of the ancients, ofvisiting the tombs of the dead, and passing many hoursof the day near them, is evidenced in this tomb by foursmall square windows opening from the outer into thesecond room. Visitors could sit in the outer chamber,and from the open doorway look up to the city, whilethey were not wholly separated from their dead who layin the inner chambers.The next tomb which I shall speak of was to me by farthe most interesting ofthose around Jerusalem, and I amconfident will hereafter possess still more interest when itcan be cleaned out and thoroughly examined. It is approached by a steep descending passage through theearth. The terrace of the rock on which it was formerlyopened being now covered deep with earth, and the excavated passage admitting an entrance only by lyingdown and crawling in on the face, or sliding in, feet first.Within this tomb, hundreds, and I am safe, I think, insaying thousands, of the ancient dead yet lie in solemnrepose.The first chamber measures eleven feet by eleven, andhas the plain dome roof, twelve feet high in the centre,which is found in very few tombs, and which I thinkindicative of a cotemporaneous taste, not very remotefrom that ofthe tomb I have just described.From this room, two doorways on each side, except158 INTERESTING TOMB .the front, six in all, each six feet high, open into as manychambers. Each doorway is carved with a plain moulding at the sides and over the top. Between the twodoors on each side is a round half pillar left projecting;of one of which the upper part is cut off, as if to leave aniche for a lamp.Entering the first room on the right, I found the twosides ofthe doorway occupied by two couches left in therock, as long as the human body, and deep enough tohold numerous skeletons which lay in them, where theyseem to have been rudely scattered about by visitors.Over each couch the ceiling was arched; a style that isprevalent in the tombs about Jerusalem. Originally, Ithink, each couch was intended for one body, to be inclosed by a lid. This is the style of the IIoly Sepulchre.The second room was precisely similar to this. The third,opening from the second side of the principal room, hadcouches on three sides, arched as described, and all full ofbones. Under the rear couch an opening descended intoa pit leading into a large chamber full of the dead, whichI could not get into on account of the mud and slime.The fourth room has three couches, as the third; behindand over one of which, a square niche, eighteen bytwenty-four inches, opened into a chamber whose size Idid not measure, but which was piled up to the ceilingwith the dead, as they had lain there and decayed, bonesand earth; the earth that had been men, mingled in adense mass, and apparently with lime. This niche is sohigh, that I could look into it only by standing on thecouch over which it opened. I managed to climb into it,with great difficulty, and dug out enough of the bones tosee that the room was shaped as Nos. 1 and 2, with twocouches; but couches and room are filled with bones andearth.Room No. 5 was like Nos. 1 and 2.THOUSANDS OF THE DEAD. 159Door No. 6 opens into a room once like Nos. 1 and 2;but the rear ofit opens by a breach into several rooms ofwhich I could get little idea, from reasons that will appear.Three of them were very large, and into them I crawledon my hands and knees, close to the ceiling, over piles ofbones and earth; one dense mass, that crushed andcrumbled under me as I advanced. I sat down on thepile in one room, and counted skulls that I picked up andthrew into the most remote corner; I stopped at one hundred, and I saw no diminution. The passages leadingfrom these chambers to others were filled to the ceilingwith the same piles of decayed humanity. The mostsingular thing in all this was the perfect whiteness of wallsand ceiling in this corrupt place. I attributed it to theprobable fact that great quantities of lime had been usedhere. They looked as if white-washed the day previous.Who these countless dead were, is a question not to beanswered until that day when every man will answer tohis name and deeds. A natural suggestion to my ownmind was, that this ancient tomb had been used in themiddle ages to bury pilgrims, or, perhaps, the dead inthe battles of the Cross. It had the appearance of aplace in which they had been heaped at one and thesame time, and the mass had settled a few inches fromthe ceiling in the process of decay.I sat, with pencil in hand, for some time in this darkabode of death, Miriam holding a candle for me to makenotes; and I had scarcely finished when Whitely darkened the entrance, as he slid down feet first, and demanded how long we proposed to keep company withthe old Jews.The idea was startling. Were they verily men of thetimes ofthe Lord? Was that skull the very skull of theman that walked the streets of Jerusalem the evening ofthat awful day, having been roused from his grave bythe160 PILLAR OF ABSALOM.earthquake? Why not? None answered me; nonecould answer me. Imagination had free rein here, and Iwas at liberty to believe them the followers of David, ofTitus, or of Godfrey, as I thought best.Musing thereon we came to the modern Aceldama, abuilding that occupies a large space on the side of thehill, not far from this tomb, and which has been now longabandoned, and is empty. It is a deep excavation, walledup and arched over; but openings in each end of the top enabled us to look down in and see the fallen stone thatonce composed the walls, and here and there a bone; butno evidence of its ancient purposes-the burial of pilgrims who died in Jerusalem. From this spot the earththat is met with in the curious old Campo Santo at Pisa,and various other places in Italy, is said to have been carried.Returning up the valley of Jehoshaphat we now visited.more carefully than before the tomb or pillar of Absalom,and others near it. Wehad often passed them, throwinga stone each time, in obedience to the custom, which thusexpresses the detestation in which all good Christiansand Moslems hold a disobedient son.The tomb of Absalom is a monolith, made by hewing apassage into and around a piece of the great rock wall onthe cast side of the valley of Jehoshaphat, and then hewing into shape the piece left standing. The upper part ofit is built up. The front is terribly battered; and whatwas once a square window is now a rough breach. Ofthe real date and object of this structure no one can affirmany thing, and the same is true of the tomb of Zacharias,a short distance from this, and of similar description . Ishould much like the time to excavate about this lattertomb, into which as yet no opening is known. It is probably below the earth which has accumulated about it.The tomb of St. James, or, as it is more properly called,ANCIENT COINS. 161the Cavern of St. James, is a cave hewn in the face ofthissame rocky wall, the front being supported by two pillars,which derives its name from a tradition that the apostlelay hidden here during that time of terror which followedthe scene in Gethsemane.These three, the most celebrated of the tombs aroundJerusalem, are alike subjects for imagination. No inscription, definite tradition, or history affords any aid indetermining their origin. Behind the tomb of Absalomis a subterranean tomb, called that of Jehoshaphat, whichis kept closed, and in which the Jews of the city are allowed to claim a certain proprietorship. Of its contentsI was unable to learn any thing; and I regretted mucharriving one day a few minutes after it was closed by aJew who had entered it. The common story is, that theykeep here concealed a book of the law, and sundry valuable relics; but in a situation so exposed to night robbersI scarcely think this probable. The tomb, however, isclosed, and the front heaped over with earth. It is described as having a fine pediment front, opening in theniche or trench around the tomb of Absalom.On the hill below, near the village of Silowan, is anothermonolith, hewn as the tomb of Absalom is, and said to bethat of Pharaoh's daughter, who married Solomon. Itcontains two simple rock-hewn chambers, of no interestwhatever.As I finished my examination of the tombs, and turnedto go up the hill of Moriah, it occurred to me that theboys of Silowan are celebrated for picking up coins aroundJerusalem, and I shouted to one of them, who sat perchedon a rocky bluff, to inquire if he had any. The prospectofa purchaser brought down all the youth of the village;and I soon had literally hundreds of coins offered me,which I bought en masse, having then no time for examination to select those of value. The number of these162 CATACOMBS OF OLIVET.found around Jerusalem is enormous. I have found manymyself; and that day, having exhausted the supply atSilowan, I proceeded up the side of Mount Moriah, andlooking on the ground as I climbed the steep ascent, Ifound a half dozen before reaching the top.There remains but one more tomb to be specially mentioned, outside the walls of Jerusalem , and this we visitedon another day.We had been at Bethany, and returning over theMount of Olives we paused on the summit to take that view ofthe east and the west that so often met the morning and evening gaze of the Saviour, on his accustomedwalk. Having once more filled our eyes and our soulswith the prospect, we descended the minaret-for it wasfrom it that we had gazed-and paying the usual bucksheesh, were about to go down the path by the garden ofGethsemane, when the idea occurred to us, that somewhere on this hill-side was a cavern of curious construction known as the tomb of the Prophets, and by others asthe catacombs of the Mount of Olives. An Arab boyoffered to guide us, and descending south-west from theminaret, we found the opening of the cavern in an oliveorchard, half way down the slope. The descent into itwas through a hole in a rock which let us into a semicircular chamber, from which a passage-way entered thehill-side.This passage ended in a gallery which described anare ofa circle around the first chamber, and was crossedat half its length by a similar gallery between the chamberand the outer gallery. There was an irregular windingpassage which left the chamber at the right and joinedthe end ofthis smaller gallery, and again proceeded fromthe opposite end of it in a long winding passage throughthe hill ending in the loose earth. One or two crosspassages and three or four irregular small chambers com-TOMBS. 163pleted the excavation, of which no full idea can be givenwithout a plan. These are the celebrated catacombs ofthe Mount of Olives, and seated in the remote part of thelong winding gallery with Whitely and Miriam, a dimlight in our hands scarcely shining on cach others' faces,we for a moment thought them somewhat of an approximation to the accounts we had heard of them. I supposethem to be a sort of public catacomb, perhaps excavatedfor speculation purposes. But here as everywherearound Jerusalem, among the tombs, conjecture is ouronly course, and the mind and the body turn from theseunknown tombs with unutterable emotions toward theSepulchre of the Lord.Before leaving them, however, it is proper to remarkthat the descriptions of travelers have much exaggeratedthe splendor of them. That of Helena is described bygrave and learned men as a monument of royal magnificence. The fact is that they are, one and all, very rudeexcavations, with some few ornamental carvings, but nonepossessing any great beauty or indicating either skill ortaste, and as compared with the tombs of secondary classin Egypt, very inferior in all respects, while they are notat all to be compared with the tombs of the kings atThebes, or of the priests and princes at Beni Hassan.11.Ben Israel.ON one of those still and quiet evenings, when the sunhad just gone down behind the city, we rode up the valley ofthe Kedron by the well of Joseph, returning froma long canter toward Bethlehem and down the way ofthewilderness to Saint Saba.Miriam's horse was fresh, and champed the bit with asmuch spirit as when we started. Mohammed was prettywell used up, and the rein lay on his neck, while I myself,somewhat more tired than usual, drooped a little in mysaddle and rode with my eyes fixed on the ground, everyinch of which was sanctified by footsteps of patriarchs andapostles in the sacred ages.The valley of Jehoshaphat lay deep in gloom, althoughthe last rays of the sun had scarcely left the summit ofOlivet, and the minaret of Omar gleamed yet in the crimson light ofthe west. The tombs of the old Jews weresilent in the darkness, and as we passed under the rockyheights of Siloam it appeared before us as if we were entering the valley of the shadow of death.The pathway winding under the tomb of the wife ofSolomon and then crossing an open space opposite to thesouth angle ofthe temple wall, enters directly among thegraves of the Jews, marked each with a heavy slab lyingprostrate on the tomb, carved in Hebrew characters withBEN ISRAEL. 165the simple story of the son of Israel. The steep slope ofthe eastern side of the valley is filled with these graves,where, for thousands of years, the children of Israel wereaccustomed, and are still accustomed, to seek that deepsleep that the weary always find.Miriam was a little in advance, and the chestnut wassetting his dainty feet down and lifting them up as ifhe,with true Arab feelings, despised the dust of that valley,when suddenly he threwhis head up in the air and sprangout ofthe road, almost into the bed ofthe Kedron.Mohammed looked on in surprise, but was too cool tofollowthe young horse's example. A moment later thecause ofthe fright was manifest in a form that rose slowlyfrom a Jewish tomb, directly by the road-side, and whicha cooler head than Hassan's might have been pardonedfor thinking a spirit.Betuni, who was close behind, rushed forward and began to pour out Arabic curses on the stranger, which Istopped as soon as I could get an audible word into thestorm. I was passing on again in silence, when thestranger sank suddenly down on the grave with a moanthat seemed verily as if life had gone out with his breath.I sprang from my horse involuntarily. I had seenenough ofmisery and pain in the East to make a woman'sheart callous, but there was something indescribable inthat form, and the moan of anguish, that impelled me tothe man's side, as I had never before been moved. Butwhen I approached him, he appeared to be past all sympathy, and I believed that the soul had verily sought theopen arms of Abraham, those arms wherein so many ofhis world-worn children desire earnestly to find repose." Run, Betuni, to the fountain of Mary, and bringwater."I gave him my leathern pocket-cup, and he was gonein an instant, leaving me with the dead Jew, while Mir-166 BEN ISRAEL.iam sat on her horse, by this time reduced to quiet, andpatiently waited the result of my examination .Already the short twilight was ended, and the starslooked down into the valley, but it was dark and silent,nor could I see a gleam of light from Silowan to the gateof St. Stephen. Betuni returned with the water, anddiluting a little brandy, which my pocket-flask alwayscontained, I poured it into the mouth of the old man,while Betuni rubbed his hands and arms with the brandyitself, damning him in his mind all the while for a Jew,though he dared not whisper a curse in my presence.At length returning consciousness was evident, and hebegan to speak, as if to himself, broken words, in Italian,and in a few moments sat up and looked around him."Not dead yet, " said I, as cheerfully as I could speak,and smiling, too.He looked at me with his piercing eyes, and spoke, ina voice that I shall not soon forget," I shall never die."I can not well express the thrill of astonishment withwhich I listened to those words. Doubtless you understand why. All the wild legends of that consciencespurned, soul- cursed man, who from the morning of thecrucifixion to this day, has wandered hopeless, and prayedin vain for death and oblivion, rushed across my memory.He answered well the description, or the imaginationof that man. He was very tall, even stately in his form,and he wore the loose flowing robes which eastern oldmen always wear. His face was thin, his features sharp,but noble, his beard long on his breast, and white assnow; his eye flashing, but melancholy, and his foreheadhigh and white, but written all over with the sorrows ofexistence.I looked at him as he spoke, and for an instant, spiteof reason, thought that I verily beheld that man.BEN ISRAEL.The next instant, I smiled again, at my own folly." And why not?"167"Because I have wished it so long and it has nevercome, and I despair of rest now. I can not die. ""You are an old man. ”" My children's children are asleep below this spot, andI remain. ""Do you live in Jerusalem?""I live where God leads me-sometimes in Jerusalem,sometimesin Germany, sometimes in Russia. I am aJew. ""But not homeless therefore?""Yea, homeless therefore. Where have the childrenof Jacob a home, except here?" And he pointed sadlyto the ground by the side of the stone on which he sat,and fixed his eager old eyes on mine as if he thought Icould tell him of another resting- place for the "tribes ofthe wandering foot and weary breast. "I asked him his present intentions. It appeared thathe had remained in the valley by the graves of his children until the gate of the city was closed, and of coursehe was denied entrance. For some unexplained reason,the soldiers of the guard at the gate of St. Stephen hadclosed it before sunset, and he had walked back to thespot that was dearest to him on earth, the only dust ofall this broad world in which he claimed a special proprietorship, and had lain down there to pass the night underthe sky. It was not the first night he had passed there,by very many. He could count them by years, the nightshe had had no covering from the dew, no shelter from thewind. But the dews of this land he loved, and the windsof the hills around Jerusalem were like the winds of Paradise to him, and he was content to sleep there, and onlylonged to sleep there forever.I know not what it was that drew me to that man soclosely. Probably I shall never know. There are secret168 BEN ISRAEL.cords drawing our affections which we know nothing of,and can never explain. He was too weak to walk, and Iled my horse up to the side of a tomb-stone near the road,where Betuni held him, while I helped the old man intothe saddle, and fixed his feet in the stirrups, and thenwalked by his side, while Betuni, growling occasionally,led the horse, and so we passed the tomb of Absalom,and the wall of Gethsemane, and the grave of the VirginMother, and soon shouted our demand for entrance atthe gate of St. Stephen. Money opens the gates at allhours of day or night. The sleepy guard turned out atthe sound of bucksheesh, and stared, in as much surpriseas could be expected from half awake Arabs, at the oldman riding on the horse of the Christian pilgrim. So wewalked up the Via Dolorosa, dark and dismal at this timeof the evening, and I parted with my old friend, at thegate of Antonio's house, whence I sent Betuni with himto his own quarters, which I had learned were near theZion gate, and whither I despatched Moses with a basketofprovisions, and a liberal supply ofthe wine of Hebron.The next morning, as we were taking our usual walk,we met him on the same spot. IIe rose as we approached,and expressed his gratitude with the utmost feeling, butI made him sit down and tell us somewhat of his story.It was so much of an illustration of the life of many oftheweary children of Abraham that I can not forbear givinga sketch of it.He sat on a tomb-stone. The reader knows alreadythat these tomb-stones are masses of the nativo rock,hewn smooth on one side, and laid on the grave. Theancient law forbade Jews to erect a tomb above theground, or place a slab standing upright.On one of these he sat, and Miriam close by him onanother, and I stood in front of him, and watched steadfastly his fine countenance as he spoke.BEN ISRAEL. 169High over head, before his face, but behind me, wasthe temple wall that once inclosed the glory of Solomon,and high over head as well, before me, but behind him,was the hill where our Saviour wept over the city of David,and where the dust fell from his departing feet when heascended to his throne. Fit emblem of his faith and mine.His eyes were to the crumbling walls of the temple, mineto the blue sky above the Garden and the Mount."I lived, when a young man, in Frankfort on the Maine,in the old Judenstrasse, which perhaps you have seen.My house was the third on the right as you enter thestreet. Opposite to me was the house in which afterwardthe mother of the great barons lived , whose names arebetter known among the nations of the world, I verilybelieve, than are the names of their glorious ancestors,the patriarchs of old time. I was born in Italy, but Imarried a young German girl in Venice, and went withher to Frankfort. I labored there for many years as ateacher of music, an art wherein I had much skill."Troubles arose, and with our children we commencedthat life which seems to be the inheritance of our race.FromFrankfort to Basil, fromBasilto Geneva, fromGenevato Milan, from Milan to Florence and to Rome, pausingone, two, or three years in each place, and even longerin Geneva, where we were happier than elsewhere, we atlength settled, as we hoped for life, in the city of the Pope."There for twenty years I lived, simply, frugally, andperhaps with as much of happiness as we can expect, whoare persecuted and forsaken of our God. But one morning, when the Christians of Rome celebrated the feast ofthe Corpus Domini, as they are wont to call it, I, in afatal hour, wandered into the precints ofthe great churchof the crucified fisherman of Galilee, and leaning on awall in the rear of the assembled crowd, asked myselfsolemnly what all this could mean.8170 BEN ISRAEL."I was an old man. Three-score years weigh moreheavily on me than on others, and my wife, Miriam—”"My name is Miriam," said one of his listeners, interrupting him an instant."The God of Abraham bless you, " said he, fervently,and his old eyes sought her slight form, and he seemedto marvel why she had made this far pilgrimage, as hecontinued, " and take you to your distant home! Whycame you to Jerusalem, my child?"It was the second time in our wanderings that her eyeshad won her such a blessing from the old and feeble.Once before, in Nubia, an old woman, to whom shethrew some bread and money from the boat, blessed herwith uplifted hands, and prayed that God would take hersafely to her mother. The old man looked a momentsilently at her, and continued:"Miriam was as slight and small as you, but her facewas different. She had the features of Rachel, I used tothink, and now that I was old , she, as old in years, wasyounger by much in spirit, and she would sustain andcheer me when I was fainting. She walked with me thatmorning in the late spring, and had spoken often on theway, of the bright looks of our youngest child , and ofevery thing cheerful that she could think of to rouse mydrooping spirits."I leaned against the wall of an old house, and then Iasked myheart what all this was, and whether, after all, Iwere mistaken, and my hope was vain. It behooved me.to be looking around for some certain hope beyond thegrave. I could not live long, I thought, and perhapsthis pomp and grand procession, after all, might not beso mere a pageant as I had thought it.“ Miriam, ' said I, ' what think you ofthis? Can it bethat our Messiah was the Nazarene?'"Mywife's eyes looked reprovingly at me. I had neverBEN ISRAEL. 171seen them look thus before; they were always beautiful,but now I thought them glorious." And yet old men, and learned, and valiant soldiers,and good men too, believe it. See them kneel, side by side, with peasants and servants. There must be something, of tremendous power, in this thing that we despise.'"But Miriam laughed scornfully, and, as the Hostpassed on, I stood erect, and she beside me, and herflashing eyes caught the gaze of the crowd around. Oneand another sought to pull her down. Even I, weak andfrightened, fell on my knees; but she stood firm, and saidaloud that she would worship none but the Lord our God,and when a barefooted friar, with a rope girdle and ahempen gown, said, ' That is our Lord,' she replied aloud,"That! that! and laughed scornfully again. The friarsaid to her, in a solemn voice, ' Whom you despise, maythe God of Abraham reveal to you! At that momentthere came across the grand square, mad with fury, thehorse of one of the guard of the pontiff. Ilis flyinghoofs dashed through the mass of living men. Theypressed and thronged, and the crowd swayed to and fro,and I heard my wife wail aloud, and the blood rushedfrom her lips in a red torrent, and she fell to the ground,and the trampling fect of thousands went over her."That wail rings in my ears to- day, as I have heard itevery day in all my sad life since."I, too, fell on the pavement, and clasped her body,and sought to shield her with my feeble arms, but alas! invain. One moment only I saw the rushing crowds-Iheard their yells of fury-I threw my arms around mywife-I saw the red blood flow down her face from afierce wound in her white temple, and after that I sawnothing."WhenI became sensible of this miserable existence shewas lying by me in the corner of the street, dead, and I172 BEN ISRAEL.wished that I too were dead with my wife and our firstchild Miriam."After that, gathering together what money I was possessed of, and taking my young children by the hand, Icame to the land of my fathers and lived in Jerusalem.My daughters married here, and had children, and mydaughters and their children are here-just here. I amalone. No human heart beats with kindred blood tomine. Wife, children, little ones, all gone, I went out intothe world, and wandered all over it. I sought rest everywhere, but my heart was never calm, and I came back todie under the shadow ofthe hill of the temple. But I cannot die. I am almost a hundred years old, and I am-yousee what I am. The charity of the monks of the TerraSanta supports me now. I sometimes listen to them whenthey talk of the crucified son of Joseph, and I sometimeswish I too could believe that the Messiah has come, andhas builded already the other Jerusalem that our footweary race so long to reach."So the old man ended his story. Ile caught my eye asit swept rapidly back and forth from the hill of the templeto the hill of the ascension, and he divined my thoughts,but shook his head sadly, and stooping down plucked aflower, a delicate bluc anemone blossom that grew nearhis feet and handed it to Miriam,"There is not so much difference between us after all.We are all alike wanderers and travelers; we seek another land, and sitting in this valley I sometimes am ableto hear the voice of the Lord as he spoke to Daniel, saying,' Go thy way till the end be, for thou shalt rest and standin thy place when the end of thy days cometh.' Thatflower grew from the dust of one who was beautiful asthe morning over the Mount of Olives. Take it with you,dear lady, and when you pray, ask God that before an-BEN ISRAEL. 173other spring's flowers bloom in the valley of Jehoshaphatthe old man may be at peace."Many times since then I have seen that old wanderer indreams. Many times I have heard his melancholy voice,and have wondered whether he is yet at rest.12.The Wosk of Omar.THE Mesjid el Aksa, the central building in which iscommonly though erroneously called the mosk of Omar,has for many centuries been barred to the entrance ofChristians. From time to time, travelers visiting Jerusalem with firmans of the sultan have obtained admittanceto the Haram (sacred) inclosure and have seen portions ofit under strict surveillance. Mr. Catherwood effected anentrance by representing himself as authorized by IbrahimPasha during the march of that valiant soldier towardJerusalem . Since that time the English and other resident missionaries have obtained admission on divers pretexts, but not to make thorough and careful measurements and plans.During the past year the Moslem religion throughoutthe East has undergone a perceptible relaxation in its exclusive character, and numerous places are now open toChristians in it, which were not so a brief space of timeago. Thus St. Sophia at Constantinople is now free to theentrance of any stranger, and the mosk of Sultan Achmetis open to the intrusive gaze of all who visit the sultan's city.The mosk of Omar is not yet open to such visits, butthe pasha of Jerusalem has taken the responsibility ofadmitting one or two parties of travelers, and had overcome or forbidden the usual demonstrations of disrespectMOSK OF OMAR. 175in which the Turks are wont to indulge in the presenceof Infidels on holy ground.Havingheard of these instances of liberality, we thought.it not improbable that we should succeed in obtaining asimilar order from the pasha for our own party, especiallyas we had in the party our well-known consul at Alexandria, whose popularity is great in the Levant, as wellas a near relative of the United States minister at Constantinople, whose dignified and manly representation ofAmerican interests during the recent troublous times haswon him a name in the East not inferior to that of anyforeign minister at the court of Abdul Medjid.Upon sending the request to the pasha, we were informed that he was absent at Nablous. The Americanagent at Jerusalem undertook the management of theaffair, and brought back for answer that the request hadbeen forwarded by an express messenger to the pasha andan answer might be expected the next day. I had reasonto doubt whether this had been done, and subsequentlylearned that it had not, but that difficulties were thrownin the way for the purpose of making the favor appeargreater and proportionately increasing the bucksheesh.Aparty of American gentlemen had arrived in Jerusalem.a day before us, and were still there, and these gentlemenwe had invited to join us in the visit should our demandbe successful. We had previously learned that the bucksheesh paid by the parties of English travelers who hadbeen admitted had amounted to one pound for each person, and we had expressed to the agent our willingness topay the same amount. Hints that four or five poundscach from distinguished travelers was not too much, wereintended to move our pride and open our purses, but wewere old hands at flattery and bucksheesh. We had notbeen five months in Egypt without cutting our wisdomteeth.176 MOSK OF OMAR.The second day came, but the messenger from thepasha had not returned, and the next morning was thelast which some of our friends could remain in Jerusalem.Early in the forenoon they assembled at the house ofAntonio, and great was the fuss and fury of the agent,and greater still of the cawass of the consulate, who hadsuddenly swelled from a piastre and a half bucksheeshexpectant, to the full size of a silver dollar a-piece demander.At ten o'clock, as we were taking our last chibouk fullof Latakea on the diwans in our dining room, and laughingheartily at the grotesque costumes and appearance of adozen American gentlemen, whose friends would certainly never have recognized them, while they certainlywould not have known themselves in a respectable NewYork mirror, in rushed the breathless agent of UncleSam, and with a mixture of broken English, bad Arabic,and Armenian spoiled by the mixture, assured us that although the letter had arrived from the pasha grantingfull permission of entry, and the kahir, the governor protem., would admit the two American gentlemen who hadofficial character, but was unwilling to take the responsibility of so large a party, especially as the blacks, theservants of all great mosks (for the Turks guard theirholy places as they do their women, with eunuchs) , werein a state of uproar and excitement, and would inevitablykill if they did not actually devour every mother's sonof us.I had been all along fully prepared for this result , andwhile the disappointed party wore discussing the questionof increasing the bucksheesh, which was the object of thewhole affair, I slipped out of the room and down into thecourt-yard.My dragoman, Abd- el-Atti, had been a calm observer.of all the operation for three days, and had several times.MOSK OF OMAR. 177hinted to me that it was not likely to be a successful negotiation. But he had not interfered at all, though Isaw that he was perceptibly annoyed at the predominance we were allowing our Christian agent to take inthe matter.I found Abd-el-Atti in his favorite employment, withhis hands in his pockets and a cigar in his mouth, cursingthe market-men, and relic-venders that filled the courtyard. I knew that it was not in vain to set him at work,for as yet he had never failed me.I directed him to go instantly to Hashim Aga the Bimpasha-the commander of the soldiers in garrison in Jerusalem-and inform him of our dilemma, and tell himas delicately as possible that there was a very easy wayof his pocketing ten or fifteen pounds by way of bucksheesh, while the immediate secretary and agents of thegovernor were trying to make it larger for their ownloose shirt bosoms.The idea proved lucky. In ten minutes he returned ,and with him again the American agent, who had jomedforces with him, to his intense disgust, and informed usthat the Bim pasha would meet us at the gate of themosk inclosure known as the Bab-el-Guanimi, adjoiningthe government house, which occupies nearly the site ofthe ancient tower of Antonia, at the north-west cornerof the temple area. Assembling our friends without delay, we marched in procession to the gate, which wasopened as we approached, and we found a file of fiftysoldiers waiting to escort us through the sacred places.Parting, twenty- five on each side of us, they marchedforward, and we advanced into the great court.It was with no ordinary emotions that I set foot on theholy soil of Mount Moriah. If antiquity can invest anyspot with especial interest, this, of all places of the earth,is the spot. From the interrupted offering of Isaac to3*178 OMAR.the day when the daily sacrifice was suspended in thetemple by the army of Titus, this hill was, of all earthlyhills, most holy, and a Christian or a Jew might be pardoned for thinking of it, as the Moslems of the gardenof Medinah, that it is a veritable extract out of the landsofheaven. With its history during the existence of theJewish nation all readers are familiar, and no one needsto be reminded that the Salem of Melchisedec, thethreshing-floor of Araunah at Jebus, in the time ofDavid, and the holy hill of Solomon, are all acknowledged to be identical with the Mount Moriah and Mesjid El Aksa of the present day. Of the fact that this isthe site ofthe temple of Solomon there is no dispute.When Omar conquered Jerusalem, the noble successorof the prophet refused to pray at the Holy Sepulchre,lest, he said, his followers should make that a pretext forejecting the Christians after his death. But he commanded them to show him the spot where Solomon'stemple had stood, which he described as "the mosk ofDavid. " They led him from place to place until theyreached Moriah, when he recognized the spot, which hoprofessed Mohammed himself had described to him,though the prophet had never been in Jerusalem . Thisspot, marked in Roman times by a temple of Venus,erected by Hadrian, had been in later Christian days aplace for the deposit of all manner of filth, whereby theChristians were accustomed to express their detestationof the murderers of their Lord. In such condition Omarfound it, and caused it to be cleansed of its impurities,working thereat with his own hands, and commandedthe erection of a mosk on the great rock which was exposed to view in the centre of the inclosure.There are conflicting accounts of the manner in whichOmar discovered the spot. The substance of them all isthat he was led up steps, down which water was thenDOME OF THE ROCK. 179running, to an open area, where he found himself beforea large church. This church he immediately appropriated to the purposes of the Mussulmans, and in theopen space in front of it, on the great rock, Es Sukhrab,founded a building which was displaced fifty years afterward by the Sultan Abd-el- Meluk, who erected thesplendid building which has ever since then stood onthe spot, and is now incorrectly called the Mosk ofOmar. To Mussulmans this is known as El- Kubbetes-Sukhrah, the Dome of the Rock. I have never heardit called by them a mosk, but the great church, to thedoor of which Omar was led, and in which he prayed, isa mosk, and one portion of it, as will hereafter appear, iscalled the praying- place of Omar. From this, doubtless,the misnomer of the central building arose. The latteris, in fact, like the holy places in the great mosks atMecca and Medinah, which are not spoken of as mosksbut as sacred buildings. This is third in the Moslemworld, Mecca being first, and Medinah second. Buthere it should be remembered that the Moslems do notspeak of the Kubbet- es-Sukhrah as the holy place, butthe Mesjid-el-Aksa, which is a name including the entirehill of Moriah as well as the Kubbet- es- Sukhrah and themosk (Jamy)-cl- Aksa.On entering the gate we found ourselves in a vast inclosure, oblong in shape, with nearly rectangular corners.The longest sides are north and south; the shorter, eastand west. The length is not far from fifteen hundredfeet, and breadth about a thousand; but the north end ismuch wider than the southern. All this space is sacred;and from even its gates, in former years, the Mussulmanshave driven all Christians and Jews with stones andweapons of death-a practice which they still continue,and from which we were protected only by the presenceof our worthy friend the Bim pasha's colonel and his180 BOOTS.guard, whose bayonets would have been ugly customersfor the Moslems to deal with, especially with the assurance of a bastinado as the inevitable result of an attack.There are several low buildings, colleges, and religiousfoundations of various names, but of no special interest,here and there within the inclosure, especially on thenorthern and western sides. The cast wall, which is thecast wall of the city, overhangs the great valley of Jehoshaphat, and the south wall crosses the ridge of Moriah,which extends outside the city for a fourth of a mile further, and beyond the fountain of Siloam. Along part ofthe south wall are large buildings, of which hereafter.In the centre of the inclosure is a platform of pavement,raised above the surrounding ground, and very elegantlyfinished and ornamented. This great terrace, which isfive hundred and fifty feet long by four hundred and fiftybroad, is not precisely in the middle of the area, but issomewhat nearer the western and northern sides. Thispavement is in general about fifteen feet above the surrounding surface of the ground, from which it may bereached by eight flights of steps, three on the west, oneon the cast, two on the north, and two on the south.We approached the north flight, on the western side;and here, before we mounted the last step of the rise, weremoved our boots, replacing them with slippers, withwhich we had provided ourselves.I had brought Ferrajj, my prince of blacks, with me,and handing him my boots, thought no more of them tillI was ready to leave the inclosure, some hours later,when he returned them to me. Not so fortunate weresome ofour American friends, who, trusting to the sacredplace, and the strict honesty of the Mohammedans, lefttheir boots on the upper step.them, they were not there.they made, and fierce the American threats they showeredWhen they came back forDivers were the demandsSHEIK MOHAMMED. 181in pure English on the heads of the surrounding followersof the Prophet, who showed no sign of interest, andneither smiled nor frowned. The old rascals knew wellwhere the boots were gone, but they looked , if they didnot recommend, resignation to the will of Allah; and ourfriends were left to imagine that their boots had gone onthe Prophet's mission to heaven from Moriah. I don'tthink they were stolen for the sake ofthe boots, but theywere taken to annoy the Christians.The building known as the Mosk of Omar stands in thecentre of the platform. It is an octagon of sixty- sevenfeet on a side, the walls of which are constructed ofvarious colored marble, rising forty-six feet from theground or platform, and supporting here a circular wallwhich rises about twenty-five feet further. Upon this thebeautiful dome is built, about forty feet higher still, making a total of about one hundred and ten feet from thepavement to the top of the dome. Inscriptions in a sortof porcelain mosaic run around the walls; and the wholeappearance at a little distance is very rich; but on approaching nearer it seems sadly out of repair.We entered from the western side of the building,pushing aside a heavy curtain that hung over the doorway, and which a man could with difficulty lift. Herewe were met by old Sheik Mohammed Dunnuf, the presiding genius of the place, who I believe was a man ofsincere religious feelings. The old man afterward explained to me that he did not think there was any reasonfor refusing to permit Christians to enter these places, butthat he was always grieved to see profane eyes turned inidle curiosity to what he had been accustomed to venerate. He received us cordially, and led us, as we desired,from place to place within the building.The object of chief interest here is, of course, Es Sukhrah, the Rock, over which the Dome is built, and which a•182 THE MOSK.tradition says that Mohammed called one of the rocksof paradise. Two circular aisles surround it. Sixteencolumns and eight piers, which support pointed archesand the high circular wall under the dome, divide oneaisle from the other.The Rock stands out in the centre of the building, in theraked deformity of a huge mass of Jerusalem limestone.It is surrounded by a costly iron railing, and canopiedwith cloths, of which I could not in the gloom perceivethe nature.There were fifty or more Mussulmans in the buildingwhen we entered; and as we approched the rock theyturned their eyes on us furiously. It was certainly abreach of privilege in their view that they were not permitted to stone us then and there, as dead as Stephen.Notwithstanding their presence, however, we leanedagainst the iron lattice-work and gazed with an indescribable interest on that stone toward which more devoutmen had kneeled, when they prayed to God, than towardany other holy place on the surface ofthe earth.There has been no age of the world, since the time ofDavid, when there have not been hearts yearning towardthe rock of the temple. No period when somewhere onits broad surface there have not been men dying withfaces turned thitherward, and dim eyes gazing throughtears or through the films of death to catch, with thefirst power of supernatural vision, the longed- for view ofthe threshing-floor of the Jebusite, the holy of holies ofSolomon. Blessed were our eyes that in the flesh beheldthe spot where the daily incense was wont to be offered,where the ark of God for so many generations rested,where the cherubim overhung the altar, and the visibleglory of Jehovah was wont to be seen by the eyes ofsinful men.Jews and Mohammedans alike believe in the sacrednessTHE ROCK OF THE TEMPLE. 183of this rock, and the former have faith that the ark iswithin its bosom now. It is a faith that needs not muchargument to sustain. I know not why we should believethat the rod of Aaron and the pot of manna, that were solong preserved, should have been suffered to go to dustat last; nor can I assign any date to such a change in themiraculous intentions of God. It is pleasant to believethat somewhere on or in the earth those relics of his terrible judgments, as well as of his merciful dealings, are preserved; and I am not disposed to dispute the Jew whobelieves them to be in the rocky heart of Es Sukhrah.The rock stands about six feet above the floor of themosk. It is irregular in form; a mass of some fifty byforty feet. The building is gorgeously ornamented, inthe style of the early Christian and Moslem buildings,with gilded mosaic work, covering almost the entirewalls. Here and there pieces of antique marble andporphyry are let into the walls, as if to preserve them;and these, and some of the columns supporting the pointedarches, are, without doubt, relics of some older building,possibly and probably ofthe temple itself.There is underneath the western side of the building acrypt, or vault, which is still the holy of holies. I hadheard much of this among Moslems, though no travelerhas mentioned it. Sheik Mohammed told me that itcontained the armor of no less a person than Ali himself; relics which came into the possession of the Jerusalem Haram by some process that I could learn nothingof, but which are esteemed among the followers of theProphet as beyond price. When we approached thedoorway that descends into the vault where these treasures are kept, I endeavored to persuade the sheik to takeus down the steps; but he most skillfully evaded the demand, by assuring us that the door of entrance was elsewhere, by which he would take us down, and then lead-184 CAVE UNDER THE ROCK.ing off in another direction. Abd-el-Atti called my attention to the manœuvre; but assured me that it was ofno use to ask him, as he would never consent to admitus there, since no one was admitted but a sultan or a manof the highest rank for piety and learning. The nearestapproach that I could make to it, was the obtaining oftwo curious prints, which are given to Mohammedansonly, but which I became possessed ofin the usual manner,which operate as certificates ofpilgrimage to El Kubbet EsSukhrah, and which profess to represent the sword, thegauntlets, the shield, and other armor of the valiant sonin-law and successor of the Prophet. Each article is profusely covered with inscriptions, all to the glory of Godand Mohammed. Whether there are in reality any sucharms preserved in the vault as these pictures would seemto indicate, or whether it is all a deceit, is a question Ileave for decision to those who, in later times, will findfree access to all parts of the Kubbet Es Sukhrah.While standing here, I heard a disturbance at the otherside of the building, toward which some of our party hadmoved; and, hastening thither, found that some of thespectators had evinced a disposition to interfere with theprogress of our investigations, when they found theChristians about to descend into the cave under the greatrock. But a sharp order from the officer in command ofthe detachment, and the advance of a dozen men, quietedthe disturbance, and cleared the steps, by which we descended into the cavern.This is a curious chamber underneath the great rockitself, surrounded and inclosed by stone walls, reachingfrom the floor to the under side of the rock. Let it bedistinctly marked, that Sheik Mohammed Dunnuf assuredme solemnly, again and again, that the rock hangs in theair seven feet above the ground, of its own power or thepower of God, and is not supported by this wall, even toPRAYING- PLACE OF JESUS 185the amount of a half ounce. The wall is built up only toprevent the rock falling, in case the power should for anycause be withdrawn, and, as some unlucky Moslem mightbe underneath at that moment, the result would be disastrous ifthe wall were not there. In this cavern Mohammedrested on that eventful night of which he related thehistory, and thereby lost many ofhis most faithful friends,who could not believe such a miracle. For he said thathe rode from Mecca to Jerusalem in a single night, andrested a little while there, and thence he rode to heaven;and, if Abubekr had not expressed his readiness to swearto any thing Mohammed said, it is probable that thiswould have been the end of his missionIn this case Gabriel brought him the horse to go onupward, and there is a hole through the rock throughwhich he passed. As he went, the rock followed him,lifting itself into the air; but he commanded it to pause,and it paused just there, and there hangs in the air; andhe is a vile skeptic who believes that those stone wallsbuilt under it have any thing to do to keep it there, andmay the curse of God and the Prophet be on him if hepersists in his infidelity.The cave, or room, under the rock, contains two points.of interest in Mohammedan tradition. The one, a niche,which they say was the praying- place of Solomon; andthe other, a similar spot, which they say was made holyby the knees of Isa ben Maryam , Jesus the son of Mary.The Mohammedan faith in Jesus Christ is a subject ofcurious interest. The koran, the invention of Mohammed and Abubekr, by no means attempts to do awaywith the old religions of aen, nor was Mohammedanismthe establishment of a new faith. It is only claimed forMohammed that he was a better teacher of religion thanhis predecessors, and that God inspired him to be theteacher of his race in the true doctrines which he ex-186 PULPIT OF DAVID.tracted from Judaism, Christianity, and a little PaganismHence, he refers constantly to Jesus; but, only as aprophet, not as divine. Ilis mission from God is acknowledged; his crucifixion denied, on the ground thatGod substituted another for him; and his ascension,without death, believed in by some, but doubted byothers. All orthodox Mussulmans believe that Jesus is toreturn to earth before the judgment, to die and be buriedat Medinah, in the great mosk close behind Mohammed.The doctrine of the atonement is, of course, wholly unknown to them, and Jesus is made the equal, if not a littleless, than the camel-driver of Mecca.Returning to the level of the mosk floor, we found twoor three hundred persons present, who eyed us with nofriendly feelings, but offered no insults. I made now anew attempt to induce the sheik to show me the arms ofAli, but in vain; and after a deliberate examination ofthe architectural details of the mosk, we sallied out ofthesouthern door in a body, the soldiers following us, andthe old sheik leading the way.During the visit to the Dome of the Rock, we saw nothing of the blacks whose famous bigotry we had beenwarned to beware of, and I strongly inclined to doubtwhether there are any of them now in Jerusalem. ButHashim Aga assured us that he had locked them up,every soul of them, and perhaps he had, but his saying sodid not prove it.We now passed across the southern part of the platform , and arrived at the steps, near which is a marblepulpit called the Pulpit of David, wherefore I know not,unless from some fancied connection with another smallbuilding in the east of the mosk, known as the Dome ofthe Chain, and also as the judgment seat of David. Descending the steps, we passed a marble fountain, surrounded by orange and other trees, but quite dry, and thenTHE TEMPLE. 187the mouths of several cisterns, all full of rain water. Thesurface water of the entire mosk inclosure runs into theseand other cisterns which we saw here and there about it.Our course was toward the southern side of the area,where several large and imposing buildings attract theattention of all visitors to Jerusalem, especially in theview from the Mount of Olives. These are by far themost interesting buildings in the temple inclosure.The chief of them is the great church we have beforereferred to, commonly called the Mosk el Aksa. The entire area of the temple is, as I have remarked, known asEl Mesjid el Aksa, that is, " The Holy Place the most remote," being so called in reference to the Kaaba at Mecca,the centre of Islam, and the Prophet's Mosk at Medina,the nearest holy place to Mecca.In the middle of the sixth century, the Emperor Justinian erected this building in honor of the Virgin Mary.Its magnificent size and stately splendor have preservedit intact through all the changes which Jerusalem has undergone. The length of the building from north to south,is two hundred and eighty feet, and its breadth, one hundred and ninety feet, as given by Mr. Catherwood, whomeasured it.We paused a moment before its grand portico, covering the entire width of the mosk, and built in seven divisions. The architecture it is difficult to divine. The oldGothic is manifest as the leading characteristic, but theSaracen is curiously intermingled with it. Entering bythe centre doorway, we found ourselves in a grand nave,extending the whole length of the building, supported oneach side by seven columns and pointed arches. Thecolumns are gigantic masses of stone. Each columnbore, in immense characters, the name of a prophet or acaliph, so that the white walls of the building were destitute of all ornament, except only the names " Moham-188 THE TEMPLE .med," "Omar," " Jesus " and on one column, "Allah. "There are three side aisles on each side the nave, of whichone, on the left as we entered, was walled off from thebody of the church for the women, and this interruptedthe complete sweep of the eye through the whole building, which was otherwise one of the most imposing that Iknow of; scarcely inferior to the splendid Basilica of St.Paul, at Rome, which is the finest specimen of religiousarchitecture in the world. The simple and serene grandeur of the building was impressive in the extreme. Atthe southern end, the nave is crossed by a transept, whichwe reached after a slow walk down the nave and in theaisles, and turning here to the left, we entered a lowchamber of stone, eighty-five feet long, which is called thepraying-place of Omar. The tradition says that he wasaccustomed to pray in this spot regularly during his stayin Jerusalem, and this is probably true.The western transept led us into a long and very narrow mosk, known as that of Abubekr, which again leadsinto a very long mosk, running northward, and parallelwith El Aksa, being quite as long, but very narrow, andknown as the Mosk of the Mograbbin, or Moors.latter we did not enter for lack of time.ThisIn the Mosk of Omar, last mentioned, I observed manysmall marble columns, set in the side walls, which were evidently of ancient origin, and I incline to think many ofthe other portions of this great building may have belonged to its predecessor, the temple of the Jews. Returning through the great nave, we paused a moment ata tomb-like structure, near the door, known as the tombof Aaron, a name by no means corresponding with a tradition I had before heard, that Moses buried Aaron atMedinah, on Mount Ohod. But Moslems do not alwaysadhere to the same traditions in various places.Coming out of the front of the mosk, and going a fewCRYPTS UNDER THE TEMPLE . 189feet to the eastward of the centre, we descended a staircase in the ground, and entering a heavy door, foundourselves in the famous crypts under the Mosk El Aksa,which have afforded subjects of speculation to Orientalistsfor so long a time. A broad avenue was before us, dark,indeed, but sufficiently lighted by our numerous candles,down which we slowly walked toward the southern end ofthe mosk. The passage in which we were descending,sometimes by an inclined plane, and twice, at least, bysteps, was supported on both sides by heavy columns ofstone built up and connecting with each other by lowround arches. These arches were closed up with loose,dry stone walls, and on asking what was beyond, we weretold that there were large cisterns of water on both sides,which, on surface examination, I judged to be true. Themiddle of this passage was supported by two rows ofmassive monolithic round columns, every four columnssupporting a dome-shaped arch, of large stones, radiating exactly from the key-stone, which was alwaysa single round block, some six feet in diameter. Thisvery peculiar style of supporting a roof is worthy of careful remark, inasmuch as I have never found it except here,and in the hewn tombs in the rock on the hill- side ofAceldama. More extensive observation may show itelsewhere, but I regard it as very probable that this is astyle of art indicating cotemporaneous origin in the buildings and tombs to which I refer.The pillars which support this vault are very massive,measuring, many of them, eighteen feet six inches in circumference. Their size is not strictly uniform, some being smaller than this. Their capitals are rude and simple,and I think indicate that they were constructed for thepurpose they now answer.As we descended toward the east the arches on thesides disappeared, and we found stone walls built up of190 CRYPTS UNDER THE TEMPLE.immense stones such as abound outside in the great wallsofthe temple inclosure, and at length we reached a sortof large chamber, of which the roof was supported bysuch arches as I have described.From this, opening southward, was a sort of breach inthe wall, now heaped up with fallen stone so that it wasimpossible to advance more than a few feet, but here wassufficient to show us that we were at the great gatewaydescribed by Mr. Catherwood as resembling the Goldengateway of which I shall speak hereafter, and which is,probably, a gateway mentioned by Josephus (Antiquities,xv. xi. 5) , when he speaks of the gates in the centre ofthe south front of the temple. This passage, down whichwe had come, was, undoubtedly, one of the ancient approaches to the great court of the temple, and the gateway before us, closed by the new southern wall of theinclosure, was one of the chief entrances. We paused along time here, for the very ground seemed holy, and atlength we retired slowly toward the place at which wehad descended. It was impossible to enter the vaultseither at the right or the left except from other points.On leaving these interesting vaults we paused a littlewhile on the portico of the mosk to exchange notes on itshistory.In the seventh century, A. D. 636, Omar having takenJerusalem, converted the great church of the Virgin,erected a hundred years before by Justinian, into a mosk,to which other caliphs made additions. It continued tobe in their possession, undergoing some alterations, andreceiving some additions which made it a palace as wellas a temple, until the crusaders entered Jerusalem , in1099, when Tancred and his knights and soldiers massacred thousands of the Infidels in the holy ground.Scarcely any picture so horrible is to be found in all thewars of the world as this massacre presented . They fellKNIGHTS TEMPLAR. 191by the sword, and arrow, and spear, and seeking refugefrom their fierce assailants were drowned in cisterns tillthey had choked them up with their bodies. An oldwriter says that so terrible was this slaughter, that in thetemple and porch of Solomon they rode in blood up totheir horses' knees. *This temple or porch, " templum et porticus," was thepresent mosk El Aksa. This name was always given to thisbuilding. Twenty years later, A. D. 1119, Baldwin II. gavethis building to the " poor fellow-soldiers of Jesus Christ. "Bythis humble name a number of Knights ofthe Cross,who had fought their way at last to the Holy Sepulchre,united themselves shortly after the capture of Jerusalem.They vowed to devote their lives to the protection of pilgrims and the cause of Christ against the Infidels. Theyhad no possessions but their swords, until the 20th yearof the kingdom of Jerusalem, when this grant was madeto them, for a hospital and church, and they became thepossessors of the temple. Thenceforth they were knownas Templars, and from a band of poor soldiers they became the most powerful and wealthy organization inEurope. Kings trembled before the grand master, whowas priest and soldier. The pope issued bulls in theirfavor. Lands and wealth uncounted were from time totime bestowed on them and bequeathed to them, untilthe order was above sovereigns, and to be a Knight Templar was to be more than an emperor. Their war-cry

• Si verum dicimus, fidem excedimus. Sed tantum hoc dixisse sufficiat, quod in templo et in porticu Salomonis, equitabatur in sanguine

usque ad genua et usque ad frenos equorum. —Raimondi de Agiles, Hist.Hier., in Gesta Dei, etc., p. 179 .Tantum ibi humani sanguinis effusum est, ut casorum corpora, undâsanguinis impellente, volverenter per pavimentum, et brachia sivo truncatæ manus, super cruorem fluitabant, et extraneo corpori jungebatur,ita ut nemo valeret discernere cujus erat corporis brachium, quod truncato corpori erat adjunctum. -Roberti Monachi, Hist. Hier. , Lib. ix.192 GROTTO OF JESUS.rang on every Christian battle-field and their deeds weresubjects for minstrel and troubadour in every centuryeven to this.An old writer relates that under the earth in front ofthis church, lie buried the four knights who, in the year1170, at the instance of Henry II. , assassinated Thomas àBecket, in his cathedral of Canterbury. Condemned bythe pope to exile in Jerusalem and, possibly, the poorguests of the Templars, they died here and were buried.No other incident is related of interest concerning thisvenerable building.When Salah- e'deen recaptured the Holy City, it returned to Mohammedan uses, and, with slight exceptions,has remained a mosk until this time. But the heart ofthe visitor throbs when he remembers the deeds of valorthat have consecrated it, the mighty men who have walkedits aisles, the names of renown that have been heard withinits arches.Passing now the south-east corner of the inclosure,pausing only to look into more cisterns on the way, we entered a small building which there occupies the position ofa corner tower, descending to it by steps from the level ofthe great area and descending again in it to a chamberknown as the " Grotto of Jesus. " In it was shown a whitemarble basin of which one side was worked into a scallopshell, amply large enough for the immersion of an infant,which has been erroneously called the cradle of Jesus. Itis said to be the basin in which he was washed when hewas brought by his mother to the temple-a ceremonialwashing according to the Mohammedan tradition whichis evidently founded on the presentation at the templedescribed by the evangelist. From this grotto an entrance, into which I looked, leads to the vast vaults underthe temple area, which have been described by Mr. Catherwood. Although I was very desirous to make a thoroughGOLDEN GATE. 193examination of this place I could not at this time, both onaccount of the number of persons in the party, whichhindered careful and slow examination, and also because Ihad already exhausted a large part of the day in the former places, and had still much to see before sunset. Imade an appointment with the sheik for a second visit,which Whitely and myself repeatedly endeavored to maketime for, but failed in doing. It was this expectationwhich prevented my making many measurements that Ihad designed, but the time is rapidly approaching whenall travelers will be admitted to the holy spot, and, doubtless some one will have opportunity to make thorough explorations.We now climbed the cast wall of the inclosure, whereit overhangs the abyss of Jehoshaphat, and saw theseat of Mohammed, which he will occupy at the judgment. It is but a broken column, built in the wall at thebottom of an arch, five feet high, opening toward thevalley of Jehoshaphat. The column projects about fivefeet over the valley. A doubtful seat even for a prophet,and one scarcely less trying than the bridge of a singlehair, or the edge of a sword blade, over which the deadare to cross the valley, the evil falling on the way into pitsfar below, while the righteous will find it a broad, safeway.Alittle further along was the Golden gate, a buildingon the inside of the wall, connected with the projectionand dead archways on the outside, which are supposed tooccupy the site of the ancient Beautiful gate of the temple. We entered by a low doorway and found ourselvesin a room, of which the stone roof was supported by sixdome-shaped arches, the arches resting on the walls andon two beautiful polished marble columns that supportedthe middle; two other half columns projected from theeast and west sides. The whole chamber was very beau9194 SHEIK MOHAMMED DUNNUF.tiful. This is now said to be the tomb of Solomon, butthis tradition I think not very ancient.The remaining brief time before sunset we devoted tostrolling about the inclosure, the ground of which was amass of broken-up ancient stone. We loaded ourselveswith beautiful specimens of porphyry, verde antique, andmarbles of different colors, which we purposed havingcut and polished at home, and at length, as the darknessbegan to gather around us, we left the inclosure by thegate at which we had entered.In the evening, as we were seated around the tableafter dinner, Sheik Mohammed entered our dining room.The old man had somehow been taken with us, and so farfrom being offended at our entering his holy place, hewas apparently pleased at our expressions of satisfaction.But his delight over some plain American sponge-cake,which Hajji Mohammed had the ability to make perfect,knew no bounds. He had no teeth, and this soft sweetwent to his heart by the quickest way, to an Arab's, hisstomach. Over this, while we drank our Lebanon wine,the old man grew cloquent, and Miriam, worn out withher day's adventures, fell sound asleep on the diwan inthe deep window, while we talked of the Prophet and allthe rocks of Paradise.13.The Way of the Wilderness.WE mounted at nine in the morning. There had beena shower of rain until that time, and we had our waterproof coats on, but before we reached the Jaffa gate wefound that they would be useless. The servants weredespatched early in the morning with the mules and baggage, and with instructions to pitch the tents near theConvent of Saint Saba, in the wilderness of Engeddi. Itwas our intention to visit Bethlehem on the way, as iscustomary with all travelers. Moreright volunteered toride on before we left the hotel, and purchase in thebazaars some tin cases or bottles, such as are made forpilgrims' use who desire to bring back water of the Jordan. I wished to bring specimens of various waters toAmerica with me, and used a number of these cases,whose contents I afterward transferred to glass bottles,around which I had close tin cases soldered, and thusbrought them safely to America, unimpaired by air orlight.Wemade our rendezvous in the open space in front oftheTower of Herod, within the Jaffa gate. Here Miriam and Isat on horseback for a half hour, surrounded by the usualcrowd ofbeggar lepers, and at length Whitely came up thehill, from the bazaars, at a fast canter, and in a few moments Moreright came down the hill from the Armenian196 OURSELVES.Convent, and then scattering the beggars right and left,we dashed out of the Jaffa gate, just as a stream of sunshine came down into the valley of the Sons of Hinnom .As we now appeared for the first time together in theparty that afterward remained in company over manymountains and seas, and was kept unimpaired till we leftConstantinople, I pause here to introduce ourselves oncemore.Moreright had not at this time decided to join us, wishing to remain in Jerusalem a fortnight longer. We afterward agreed to wait a week for him, and he thus made afourth in the party.Modestly speaking, I may say this much, that I was ingood condition for travel. Five feet nine, with reasonably broad shoulders, a beard not to be laughed at (no,not by the Prophet's own! ) , with a tarbouche of theunmistakable dye of the sultan's, and a boornoose thatSheik Houssein might have envied, a navy Colt in onefold of my shawl, and a volcanic repeater in the other(small, but devilish), not to mention a bowie-knife, that Iafterward left under the terebinth of Abraham at Hebron,I was not altogether the customer that an Arab wouldchoose to deal with in an exchange of Arab civilities.But I was as nothing to Whitely. He stood twoinches taller than I, and had a corresponding breadth ofshoulder. His beard was trimmed short, and gave a firmand decided expression to his fine countenance. He carried also a small arsenal of weapons, and was just the sortof man you would expect to throw a Bedouin over hishead, and have a shot at him flying for the fun of thething.Moreright was a man of peaceful employment and disposition, that is to say, he carried only one revolver anda knife, and I don't think he would have used either except in case of a fair shot and in self- defense. My im-OURSELVES. 197pression is, that he never felt those temptations thatWhitely and I freely confessed to when we saw a partyof those wild-looking animals called men by courtesy, especially the Anazees. I always felt as I used to feel onseeing a drove of deer in summer, that it was a capitalchance for a shot, but wrong, and I wouldn't do it for theworld. But Moreright was to be depended upon. Hewas grit to the backbone, and a capital traveling companion in those countries.With Miriam, the centre of our party, the reader mustbe content to have but a slight acquaintance . Enough tosay that, having left home an invalid, naturally slight andof frail constitution, she had gotten to sitting with a firmseat on her chestnut horse from early morning till sunset,and rode up and down mountain passes and rocky steepsthat we men were unwilling to trust our precious necksover on horseback.Abd-el-Atti, my Egyptian dragoman, the reader has becomo acquainted with if he has read of my travels there.He was a stout-built, athletic Egyptian, with alight coppercomplexion, a very North American Indian countenance,and always carried a pair of pistols, a bad-looking knife,and a double-barreled fowling-piece swung on his shoulders. He was a capital horseman, fully the equal of anyBedouin, and a very sharp, active, intelligent fellow.But Betuni was the man of the party. Betuni was asmall, wizen-faced, shaven-headed mukarri—a name applied to men who supply horses and mules to parties oftravelers thoroughly acquainted with all the roads, andthoroughly ignorant of every thing but the road, surly asa dog if he was scolded, but always brightened up to perfect serenity and hilarity by a pipo full of tobacco or acigar, an inveterate sponge, and the best possible butt forfun of all sorts. Betuni was a treasure, and made thetents uproarious every night with his demands for gratui198 BETUNI AND THE SERVANTS .ties which no possible resistance could overcome. Howas always successful in extracting whatever he wanted,and took it and the accompanying kick that sent him outof the canvas with equal good will and gratitude.He wore a brown boornoose that he bought twentyyears before, and a turban whose folds he was constantlyarranging, and he always rode sideways on a minute donkey, which carried all the feed for the horses and Betuni,and Betuni on top of all, and yet beat us all in speed andendurance, cutting into the line ahead of his place everywhere, pattering along with his little feet on a steady trotall day long, never tired and never out of humor, in short,the perfection of a funny specimen of the donkey. Theywere well matched, and were a never-ending source ofamusem*nt to us.Such was our traveling party, who kept always together.The tents and baggage went by themselves, except indangerous country where we rode with them; but usually we sent the train on to the point of evening haltwhich we fixed on in the morning, and then made detoursourselves to visit whatever we thought desirable. Withthe baggage train Ferrajj, my stout Nubian, and best ofservants, and Hajji Mohammed, whose cookery for fourmonths on the Nile had reached my heart, always rode.There were fourteen mules and horses in all, carrying thebaggage and tents, so that when we were together wemade a party of nineteen horses and mules, not countingtwo or three donkeys, and fifteen persons.Such was the appearance of the party that rode out ofthe Jaffa gate and descending into the valley of BenHinnom, slowly climbed the rocky road that ascends theopposite slope by the new American hospital on the wayto Bethlehem. Whitely led the line, and I brought upthe rear, bothering with Miriam's horse, who, beingbroken Arab fashion to be guided by the knee and voiceCHANGE OF ROUTE. 199and not by the rein, was constantly getting out of line onaccount of the unusual pressure of a lady's side-saddle.The rein would not control him at all, and it was morethan Miriam was willing to do to strike him an occasional blow on the side of the head to teach him hisplace.On the summit of the hill I shouted for a halt, and weheld a parley.We were going to the Dead Sea, and now why did wego by way of Bethlehem? That was the question, andthe reply was truly oriental, " because every one did. "But we were going to Bethlehem again next week, anda half dozen times, hereafter. Not even Abd- el- Atti hadthought ofa shorter route to San Sabas, but it was quitecertain there was one. Did Betuni know the direct road?"Certainly. "Then we'd go direct. Accordingly we turned back,and descending into the valley of Ben Hinnom recrossedthe dam of the lower Pool of Gihon, and followed thevalley down between Mount Zion and the Hill of EvilCounsel, passing under the crags of Aceldama on theright, and by Siloam at a little distance on the left, untilwe reached the great valley of the Kedron, which flowsfrom this spot downward with heavy plunges, descendingthree thousand nine hundred feet in the twenty miles between the hills of Jerusalem and the Dead Sea.Down this valley our course lay. The path was full ofdeep mud-holes from the recent rain, and our advancewas slow, for the clouds had cleared away and a glorioussunshine was pouring into the valley. The wild flowersthat shone all over the hills were opening their brillianteyes, and we broke out into cheerful songs, or whiledthe time away with pleasant talk.The scenery soon became very grand. High rockyhills hung far above us, on the sides of which innu-200 BED OF THE KEDRON .merable sheep and goats were feeding, while here andthere a shepherd boy or girl would be seen sitting idlyin the sunshine. Occasional overhanging crags madecavernous openings, all of which we found had been appropriated by the shepherds to stable purposes. Welunched in a beautiful bend of the valley, finding waterin the rocky bed of a torrent that had been supplied bythe recent rain. Flowers of infinite variety bloomed allaround us, and the sky seemed specially smiling and kind.Sheik Halima rode up to us as we were eating, and afterward remained with us. He was the sheik of the tribepossessing the country from Jerusalem to the Jordan, towhom we had paid or agreed to pay the usual tribute ofone pound for each person, in consideration of which heinsured us safety from robbery while in his dominions. Anhour later we came around a point of the rock and foundourselves among the low black tents of some of his tribe,who had pitched in the valley, while their sheep croppeda subsistence on the hills around.Our road had not followed the Kedron all the way,but crossed the hills once or twice to avoid its sinuosities.We were now on it, however, and at length crossed itsdry bed at a point near where it suddenly enters a wildgorge ofmagnificent grandeur. Along the right bank ofthis our way now lay through a road cut and walled upby the holy monks of San Sabas, to afford easy access ofpilgrims to that shrine. This gorge is celebrated in history and romance; for it was here that Sabas lived anddied, here thousands of hermits spent their solitary daysin times of hermit life, and here Scott intended to locatesome ofthe most thrilling scenes in the Talisman.The Kedron descends through it, the banks on eachside being ragged, precipitous rocks, varying from two tofive hundred feet in height above the bed of the stream.The distance across is a short rifle-shot at the top of theSABAS THE SAINT . 201gorge, and from its dark depths the stranger shrinks inhorror, even while he gazes in admiration.In the sides of these precipices, at points now whollyinaccessible, by reason ofthe scaling off of the ledges fromthe face of the rocks, which once afforded narrow anddangerous pathways, are many caverns, some formedunder the overhanging rocks by roughly laid up walls,and others entirely natural. They increase in number asyou approach St. Sabas, and they are numerous on bothsides of the ravine. These were the abodes of those holyanchorites whose memory is fragrant in the churches, andwhose historics have lent a charm to romance scarcelyinferior to that of the Knights of the Cross. Men of allnations, all ranks, found here that peaceful repose whichthey desired after sinful lives among their fellows. Heremany an aching heart was calmed and healed .many a troubled conscience found peace. Here the memories of fathers and mothers wronged, beauty outraged,love betrayed, heaven forgotten, and God defied , foundoblivion. The grave was not more profound in its seclusion than this valley to him who fled from the courts ofEurope to forget and be forgotten.HereAmong all the holy men who inhabited these cells, thememory of Sabas is most to be revered, by Protestant,Catholic, Greek, or Armenian.When the disputes in the church at Jerusalem ranhighest, and the head of the Eastern empire himselffavored the heterodox faith, the old hermit of Engeddi was sent to Constantinople to plead the cause oftruth and orthodoxy. When error was triumphant inJerusalem, Sabas was the only living man who coulddrive it out. For a half century he was the hope and themain stay ofthe church ofthe Christians in the Holy Land,and, ifthere be one man of later than apostolic times whoshould be canonized, he is doubtless the man.9*202 THE AMERICAN FLAG.He died, and was buried in the wilderness where hehad lived; and, around his bones hermits gathered andrecited to one another the history of his virtuous and holylife. The caverns and cells that they occupied in thesides of the ravine were gradually connected by galleriesrunning along the rock; and thus, this curious building,or collection of buildings, had its origin.Our cortege was now increased by the addition of adozen Arabs from the encampment we had passed; and,at length, we rounded a point of the hill, and saw beforeus two square stone towers, at the left hand of the road,on the ravine side; nor was it till we afterward entered,and saw the convent built down the precipice, of whichthese towers were at the very top, that we understood howthey could be the great convent of Saint Sabas. We couldsee only these, and the high wall between them , runningalong over the ridge of the hill, now plunging into achasm and remounting the opposite side, and at lengthdisappearing over the precipitous crags.In the ravine made by a small mountain torrent, whichin wet weather comes down here from the southern hills,a hundred yards from the wall of the convent, our tentswere pitched. The American flag was fluttering pleasantly over them, to the great surprise of the Bedouins,who could not understand it. Hajji Mohammed, in loosetrowsers, and full Nizam costume, was busy about thedinner; Ferrajj, glowing in his long white dress, whichhe most affected, was everywhere at once, taking careof his mistress and then of his masters, disposing of armsand cloaks, and, as he always was, showing how utterlyimpossible it would have been to get along without him.It seems nothing short of a miracle here in America thatI can live without him, and I verily believe he would beworth his weight in gold to me at this present moment.Having disposed of our weapons of war, we now pro-THE TRADITIONS. 203ceeded to visit the men of peace within the walls of theconvent, which were made thick and high enough to keepall persons, not peacefully disposed, on the outside.A basket, lowered by a pulley from a loop-hole high upin the western part of the wall, received a letter whichwe had brought from the Greek Bishop in Jerusalem. Itis customary for travelers to accept the hospitalities oftheconvent, but this was impossible when there was a ladyin the party. From the days of Sabas, no woman hasset the sole of her foot within the gate of the convent;and, tradition says, that when one does, the walls willcrumble away.If the tradition be truc, it is time for the holy fathersto stand from under. For when, after some delay, thelow door at which we stood was opened, we found a laybrother there who was not booked up in the traditions.IIe politely invited us to enter. I asked him if Miriamcould be admitted; and he said there was no objection.I waited a moment, to send back to the tents for her;and he, in the mean time, stepped into the refectory toconsult an older authority. When Miriam arrived, weadvanced as far as the descent of the first steps, into thegreat court by the tomb of the saint, but there we werearrested by a cry that might have roused his bones, if theprofane footsteps of a female had not already disturbedhim. The father superior and a dozen brothers werebegging Miriam to go out; and she paused a moment toenjoy their terror, and then retired to the gate, where avenerable monk soon joined her; and, making a thousandapologies, and relating the traditions to her great amusem*nt, led her to the east tower, where she could lookdown into the convent, and where she was supplied withbon-bons, sweetmeats, jellies, (and arrakee! ) ad libitum,while we entered the sacred precincts.The convent originated in a collection of such caverns204 CONVENT OF ST. SABAS.as I have described. There are perhaps a dozen of thesewithin the walls. The wall of the whole convent runsalong the foot of the precipice, above the bed of thestream, then ascends its almost perpendicular sides by azig-zag course, and continuing along the ridge descends.again to the bed of the Kedron. By this the face of theprecipice is inclosed, and the cells which once were merecaverns of rough rock have now their fronts walled upand whitewashed, and are connected with each other bygalleries, while a broad ledge of the rock is occupied withsubstantial buildings of stone, which are continued wherever the rock affords foundation for them from the bed ofthe stream up to the lofty tower near our tents. It is, therefore, a village built on an almost perpendicular side-hill.The chief court is on a broad ledge of the precipice, andin the centre of it a small round building marks the tombof St. Sabas. It is surrounded in the interior with poorpictures ofthe miracles of the saint, in which his head isusually four times as large as his body, to distinguish himfrom others, which are only twice. The church opensfrom this court, and is full of pictures of a similar sort. Iheard of a Murillo here, but looked in vain for it. Thereis one in possession ofthe convent.The cell of Sabas, a cave which he shared fourteenyears with a lion whom he cured of a wound, and earnedhis gratitude therefor; his oratory, another cavern,where he saw the pillar of fire that once was the evidenceof God's glory present among men; and behind it cellsfilled with grinning skulls and white arm and thigh bones,which are the relics of fourteen thousand martyr- hermitsof Engeddi; the tomb of John of Damascus, whosename is fragrant in the Greek church; and, finally, thecells of the resident monks, we visited in succession, andall with curious interest.The sun was setting when we climbed the highest partNIGHT IN THE RAVINE. 205of the convent, and sat down on the steps that led up tothe great tower. Far down the gorge we saw the sunshineon the summits ofthe hills of Moab and underneath it theblackness that hung over the Sea of Death.Evening was fast settling down among the hills whenwe left the door of the convent and walked to our tents.The monks followed us out with trays bearing coffee, arrakee, sweetmeats, and raisins made at Bethlehem, whichthey insisted on bringing to the tents, where Miriam wasnow waiting our arrival, and IIajji Mohammed as impatient as a Christian cook could be when his dinner wasspoiling. But we had to drink coffee, and a tiny glass ofarrakee, each of us, before our monkish friends would beappeased; and then they distributed plenty of breadamong the servants and muleteers, and left us to ourtents and the night, which had now come down dark andheavy on the wilderness of Engeddi.As the day vanished the scene became exceedingly picturesque. The camp fire, which the men had kindled,spread a glare on the white tents contrasting with theblack and rugged rocks close to which they were pitched.Asolemn silence fell on every thing, broken only by theconvent bell that tolled the hours of Turkish time, whichnumber from the sunset; and after our usual hour of chibouks and coffee, which followed dinner, we slept.Once the loud bell for midnight mass echoed a hundredtimes from the sides of the gorge, and, rolling strangelydown the narrow pass, aroused me; but it was only for amoment, and I slept again, to dream of those I shouldnever see again in my distant home.Next morning we were up early; and when our breakfast table was set in the open front of one of the largetents, and we were about sitting down, our convent friendscame out and brought a large bottle of Bethlehem wine,which they apologised for not before offering us. It206 MORNING START.needed no apology, for it was worse than bad vinegar;but we accepted it with good grace; and then one ofthem produced the arrakee again, and his tiny glass,which he filled for each of us in succession.It is grand liquor, that convent arrakee, all through theEast; and though it takes your breath away at the swallow, it produces no ill effects afterward.Miriam always declined it after her first taste in Egypt,and did so now, whereupon my venerable friend of theGreek church laid his hand on his breast and bolted itwith an air of resignation that was truly edifying. Hehad declined breakfasting with us a moment before onthe ground that it was Friday, and a fast-day. Our worthy friend who had so nearly produced the catastropheto the walls of the convent by admitting Miriam theevening previous, lingered around us to the last . Hewas a queer fellow, had been a sort of dragoman, butliking the looks of the fat and quiet life of the monks ofSt. Sabas, he offered himself as a lay brother, and his skillas a purveyor made him valuable, but I fancy he was behind hand on the traditions. I gave him what he was waiting for however, and I don't think it enured to the treasuryof the convent.The tents were struck and the baggage slung on themules, and we still sat over our coffee, now in the openair. Hajji Mohammed emptied his portable kitchen, andraked the coals into a heap, in which he inserted a tincup of coffee to keep hot for Ferrajj and himself, by wayof stirrup-cup. Then the last package was made up ofcamp stools and table-furniture. We sat on the rocks,as the train filed off up the ravine, and no evidence existed but the ashes that ourwe mounted and departed.camp had been here. ThenThis was the daily morningprocess for months; and I never left a camp groundwhere we slept a night on holy soil without regret.VIEW OF THE DEAD SEA. 207We bought handkerchiefs, printed in the convent, withquaint pictures of the miracles of the saint, and sundrywooden spoons, carved by the monks, which we preserved as mementoes ofthe curious spot.Starting at half- past eight in the morning, we retracedthe road of the evening previous as far as the commencement of the gorge. A hawk, that was too small forpoetry to make an eagle of, sailed in the air far below us,but far above the bed of the Kedron, serving to show ushow deep the ravine really was. We crossed the Kedronat the head of the gorge, and immediately struck acrossthe wild mountainous district which lies on the west sideof the Dead Sea. No picture can convey an idea of theutter desolation of this country. Not a tree is visible,nor any vegetation, except low shrubs of a dry, harsh,rush- like plant, which the Bedouin women were gathering for fuel. A woman would carry a bundle of it aslarge as a small hay-stack on her head, and present theappearance of a tree walking. The face of the countrywas as if a thousand conical hills had been let fall on it,and we were finding our way around and over them.There was no regularity about them.Two hours from San Sabas, we saw a troop of mountedmen, about thirty in number, crossing the ridge of a distant hill. The last one saw us and paused, but the restrode on. We at first supposed them to be Bedouins, butafterward judged them to be government soldiers, andwe saw them soon after halted on a hill, two miles fromus, watching our movements. At the same instant, wecaught a view of the Dead Sea, sleeping calmly a thousand feet below us, and the same illusion was manifest ofwhich I have spoken on the Mount of Olives. It seemedto be not more than an hour distant from us, and that agallop down the hills would take us there in fifteenminutes.208 DESOLATE HILLS.It lay like a silver lake among the hills, relieved by thedark blue haze that rested on the mountains of Moab.nor would any one have imagined it the mysterious seawhose profound waters have so long swept over thememory of the Cities of the Plain. The scene was, infact, so very soft, rich, and beautiful, that we all agreed.that a painter who should execute its facsimile in colorswould be ridiculed as exaggerating.From this point we saw the Wely of Neby Mousa, thereputed tomb of Moses, located by the Moslems, withtheir usual desire to differ from Jewish records, within,instead of out of the promised land. It stands on a hilltop, about due west of the north point of the Dead Sea,and distant perhaps eight English miles from the mouthof the Jordan. Every hill-top within sight of it wasmarked with small piles of stone, three, four, or morelaid on each other, a custom with Mohammedan pilgrimson all points at which the first or the last view of a holyspot is obtained.The most remarkable feature of these desolate hills onwhich we were now riding, was the immense quantity ofsnails which covered the ground, oftentimes making acresof it white. We devoted much attention to them, Miriam having taken charge ofthe conchological departmentof our expedition, and we found fourteen or fifteen varieties between Jerusalem and the shore of the sea. Theylay in the same quantities down to the very edge of thewater. The rain storms wash thousands of them into thesea, where they die and are thrown on the shores, orfound on the bottom. None of them live in the sea.I can not too much regret, that out of several hundredspecimens of shells which we brought home with us, wemiss these packages only, on which I placed perhaps thehighest value.Three hours from Saint Sabas we came to the top of aTHE SEA OF DEATH. 209deep, wild gorge, down which our path wound by fearfulprecipices. It turned and twisted by rectangular bends,the path oftentimes so narrow that it appeared impossibleto pass. Continuing in this for an hour we reached theopening, where it breaks out on the western table of theJordan valley.We now supposed ourselves within thirty minutes ofthe shore, and putting our horses to their speed, westarted in full race for the sparkling beach. Never wasillusion more complete. Riding half the time at a rattlinggallop we were, nevertheless, an hour and a quarter before we dismounted on the water's edge.Our course was over the high table, broken up intohills which rise about fifty feet above the sea, and whichoccupy the western part of the valley as a step towardthe mountains. Being composed of a gravel and claymixture, this land is unfit for cultivation.We then descended to the lower plain, and penetratingthickets of reeds and zukkum, a thorny bush, amongwhich were numerous springs and small rivulets of water,we at last emerged among piles of drift- wood on thenorthern beach of the mysterious Sea of Death.14.The Dead Sea and the Jordan.THE water was clear, bright, and transparent as glass,sparkling in the sunshine, and glittering with all thebeauty of a sea beach on the Atlantic coast, without themixture of sand to discolor it. The shore was composedof hard pebbles of various kinds of stone.The whole appearance of the beach was beautiful inthe extreme. The bushes and reeds came down to theslope of the beach, and all the ordinary flowers of thecountry bloomed in profusion at the very edge of thewater, much nearer than I have ever seen vegetation onthe Atlantic shores. At the very moment of springingfrom our horses we started two rabbits that were amongthe drift-wood on the shore, and we saw birds among thebrush, and snails on the bank, so that there was no appearance of death or of gloom in the valley.The sea was tempting. I can never resist the invitation of sparkling waters, and at sea have always difficultyin restraining myself from plunging into the bright foam.The day was warm, we had ridden far and were wearyand thirsty, and the waves were before us. While Abdel-Atti arranged our luncheon, and Betuni took care ofthe horses, Whitely, Moreright, and I walked westwardalong the shore until we found a good place, and preparedfor a bath.A BATH IN THE SEA. 211There was a breeze of wind blowing fromthe south, andthe sea rippled up at our feet. It made the prospectpleasanter, but we found our error soon.The water shoaled so gradually that it was impossibleto plunge from the shore, and we walked off three hundred feet before we found four feet of water."Come on, Whitely, " I shouted, and threw myselfforward into it, as I would at home into the arms of thesurf at Watch Hill. And then!If there were words to express an agony that no onehas experienced I would use them here. I can not conceive worse torture than that plunge caused me.Every inch of my skin smarted and stung as if athousand nettles had been whipped over it. My facewas as if dipped in boiling oil, the skin under my hairand beard was absolute fire, my eyes were balls ofanguish, and my nostrils hot as the nostrils of Lucifer.I howled with pain, but I suspended when I heardWhitely's voice. He had swallowed some of the water,and coughed it up into his nose and the tubes under hiseyes. The effect was to overcome all pain elsewherewhile that torture endured. It came near being a seriousmatter with him, and, as it was, his voice suffered for aweek, his eyes and nose were inflamed as if with a severecold, and the pain continued severe for several days.Recovering our feet with difficulty, we stood pictures ofdespair, not able to open our eyes, and increasing thepain by every attempt we made to rub them with ourwet hands or arms. It was some minutes before wecould regain our equanimity and open our organs ofsight, when we saw Moreright, who had taken warningfrom our example, laughing at us, while he very coollylay rolling about in the sea with his head high and dryin the air. As soon as possible we made some experiments to test the density of the water, and, as after212 EXPERIMENTS.awhile the smarting pain in the skin diminished, weremained in the sea nearly an hour, thoroughly trying itsbuoyant powers.Walking off slowly from the shore, when I reached adepth where the water was at my arm-pits my feet leftthe ground and turned up to the surface. Lying downto float, no part of the body descended entirely belowthe surface. If on my back, my two knees, breast, andface were all out. I found no difficulty in lying on oneside with my hand under my cheek and my elbow in thewater, as if I were leaning on it . I lay on my back andlifted my right foot into the air, the lower part of the legbeing parallel with the surface.I found it very difficult to swim, lying on my face,from the fact that my feet would be thrown into the airinstead of against the water. This was a matter of prac.tice however, and in a short time I found no difficulty inmaking rapid progress, quite as rapid as in ordinary saltwater, and much more so than in fresh water. The bottom was visible at a great distance from the shore; onceI attempted swimming below the surface with my eyesopen, a practice not difficult in the Atlantic, but I paiddearly for this second attempt. The agony in my eyeswas intolerable, and when I attempted to regain my feetI found I was in such deep water that I could but touchmytoes to the ground, and up they would go to thesurface, while I floundered about like a fish on land, andmytwo friends shouted at me in an ecstasy of fun.I brought up from the bottom every thing I could findwith my toes, but I got nothing but pebbles. Therewere no shells whatever.While we were bathing Miriam was making a thoroughexamination for shells, along the beach to the eastward,and we at length rejoined her and continued the search.I was content with her verdict, knowing her skill, byWATER OF THE SEA. 213years of practice, in detecting the minutest specimens ofconchology which were totally invisible to my eyes.She examined the sand and clay, and made a completeinvestigation, resulting in nothing found. We discovered plenty of fresh water shells of various kinds, whichwe afterward found in quantities in the Jordan, but theywere all dead, and mostly worn on the pebbles. Therewas no shell in the Dead Sea not already well-known as afresh water inhabitant, and therefore a stranger here. Itmay be considered as settled , by frequent examination,that there is no life whatever within these waters.A pint of Dead Sea water, which I took in one of thetin cases before mentioned, remained in it till it reachedAmerica, just six months afterward, when it was transferred to an open-mouthed bottle. It was clear andsparkling when opened, as it was in the sea, but in a fewdays it became yellow, thick, and oily. In this condition it remained until again closed and corked, sincewhich time it has become more and more clear andwhite, and I am anticipating its perfect restoration.The water of the Dead Sea has been repeatedly analyzed, with slightly varying results. Dr. Robinson givesfour of the analyses, of which I here give three, namelythose of Dr. Marcet, London, 1807, Gay Lussac, Paris,1818, and Dr. Apjohn, Dublin, 1839.Specific Gravity at Boiling Point,Distilled Water being 1000 .Chloride of Calcium....Chloride of Magnesium..Dr. Marcet. Gay Lussac. Dr. Apjohn.1211. 1228. 1163.8.920 8.980 2.438 10.246 15.310 7.370 Chloride of Sodium.. 10.360 6.950 7.839 Chloride of Manganese .5Chloride of Potassium . 0.832Sulphate of Zinc.... 0.054 0.075Bromide of Magnesium.0.201Water..... 75.420 73.760 81.220100,000 100.000 100.000214 WATER OF THE SEA .Just here I may mention a circ*mstance in connectionwith the water of the river Jordan. I sent about a quartofit to America. When bottled in Jerusalem it was ofthe clayey, milky color of the river. When opened inAmerica it was clear and perfectly transparent, while ithad a strong sulphurous smell that was fully equal to thestrongest sulphur-spring I have ever seen. I have beenunable to find any analysis of the Jordan water, and Imention this fact to call the attention of those interestedto this evidence of a contribution to the Dead Sea, whichI have never before seen mentioned. The effect beingthe same in two bottles, one of which I shipped fromSmyrna and the other from Leghorn, I have no idea thatit was produced by extraneous causes.We lunched on the shore of the sea. Abd-el-Atti hadkindled a fire among the drift-wood which lay piled up onthe beach. This drift-wood was much of it large timberfrom the hill-sides of Moab, and lay in quantities sufficientto supply Jerusalem with fuel for months if there wereany way of conveying it thither. But here it lies androts, since a camel would take two days to carry a smallquantity to the Holy City and the worth of his load wouldnot repay the time and labor. The fire spread rapidlyand blazed fiercely among the dry trunks and branches oftrees. Leaving it to complete its work of demolition onthese memorials of the desolateness ofthe spot, we mounted our horses at three in the afternoon to proceed to theJordan.I rode the bay, Mohammed, down to the edge ofthesea, but he paused, snuffed the salt air with his nostrilsand refused to wet his dainty fetlocks in it . He knew itwell, and after a pleasant discussion with him, in whichhe very gently but decidedly begged off, I turned him tothe path by which the others were gone, and he took theroad at a flying run that soon brought us up with them.THE JORDAN. 215Wehad now to cross the plain which lies west of theJordan and north of the Dead Sea. It was very evidentfrom its surface that it had been overflowed in rainyweather, and the deposit of clay on the surface forbadevegetation. It was a dead level of barren soil. Noteven a blade of grass grew on it. On the ground layquantities of small shells of a peculiar sort found in theJordan, which had spread over the ground during theoverflow, and now lay dead and white on the surface ofthe soil. A thin dry crust had formed in the sunshine asis usual over mud, but I could detect nothing in its appearance nitrous or in any respect unusual. We were threefourths of an hour from the sea to the ford of the Jordan,crossing the angle made by the latter with the north shoreof the former.The Jordan was flowing strong and fierce between itshigh banks, swollen by the rains and the melting of thesnows of Hermon. At this point, and, indeed, on mostof its course, the Jordan has two banks, one of which itoverflows in very high water, while the other is far abovethat . On the intermediate terrace grows a dense thicketof trees, willows, zukkum, and other brush.The pain of our bath in the Dead Sea was not over.My face, especially my chin under my beard, was burning. The beard itself was crusted with salt and all myskin, from head to foot, was covered with an oily substance that the reader can obtain some idea of by dissolving salt, soda, and lime in hot lamp-oil and brushinghimself over with the mixture.We were in haste, therefore, to see the Jordan, and theinstant we reached its banks we plunged into its coolflood.The snows of Lebanon had reduced it almost to freezing point, but the relief from the Dead Sea water wasdelicious. We remained in it but for a few minutes how-216 THE JORDAN.ever, and then sat down on the bank to feast our eyes onthis the great end of Christian pilgrimage."The flow was swift and strong, like the flow of a riverthat knew its own might and majesty. The color of thewater disappointed me. It held in solution a light claythat gave it a milky or even muddy appearance, andmade it the very contrast of the light clear water of theDead Sea. The stones under the water and the edgesof the bank were encrusted with the shells I havementioned. We collected a few of these and cut ahalf dozen canes from the various trees that grew onits banks.We had not brought our shrouds with us, as theeastern pilgrims are accustomed, to dip in the sacredstream, and then preserve for the time of burial, but wetook away with our eyes the impress of the scene to remain on brain and heart forever.Beyond the stream the mountains stood cold and calmas when Moses from their summits viewed the Land ofPromise. We endeavored to locate Pisgah, and in thissucceeded to our satisfaction . I know of no line ofmountains whose summit is such an exact level as isthe summit of those hills of Moab. The line on the skywas almost without a curve, but one point " over againstJericho" was higher than the others, and this sufficed us.Hereafter, in speaking of Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebalat Nablous, I shall again mention this peak in a connection that gives it an interest hitherto unknown.An old Arab and his son came down to the ford asevening settled on us, and crossed the dangerous stream,while we sat and watched them. Twice I thought theold man gone, but his strong son held him up and helpedhim over, and then we turned away.Sheik Halima had been urgent for our departure for anhour. He feared the Bedouins on the east of the Jordan,BLOOD REVENGE . 217of whom we had seen several parties moving on the opposite heights. But we laughed at his fears, and told himthat three Americans were equal to three regiments ofArabs. He half believed it, for he was in a constant holyhorror of my revolver, which he had once seen exhaustedin shots into a flight of vultures. As one and another ofthe huge birds fell, the sheik opened his eyes and looked ,and with the sixth ball he uttered a solemn " Bismillah, "and dismounted to inspect the slain. After that he believed in Americans.But the darkness was impending, and we reluctantlyturned our horses' heads from the pool; once before wedeparted, I spoke to my bay horse Mohammed, and shookhis jingling rein. He went into the stream like a rockfrom a hill- side, with a fierce, grand plunge, and shookhis fine head and flowing mane, as he breasted the swiftwaters, and then we came out again, and with a wildhalloo, went up the bank at a bound, and then all togetherwere off over the plain for Jericho.The pace, which was fast at first, gradually slackened,and Sheik Halima rode up, as we came to a singular pileof three stones on each other, in the middle ofthe path.Alow muttering of the sheik attracted Whitely's attention as we passed the stones."What are they?" No answer.“ Sheik Halima, what is that?""The revenge.""What?"" They killed Rakhin there. The stones will stay theretill one of them is killed just there. ""Who killed him?"" They-over there," pointing across the Jordan."When was it?"" In the time of the grapes last year. " And the sheikgrowled a little to himself, and rode on.13218 JERICHO .Ten minutes later, we met six wild-looking Bedouins,going toward the Jordan. They stopped and exchangedthe salutation of peace with us, which proved their goodintent, so far as we were concerned, conversed a few moments, and rode on. Under the pledge of secrecy, theycommunicated the fact that they belonged to a tribe nearHebron, from whom the common enemy cast of the Jordan had stolen two camels three years ago. They werenow on an expedition of reprisal. If the reader feels anyinterest in the result of their expedition, I may add (inconfidence still) that I met one of them in Jerusalem aweek afterward, and he told me that they found fourcamels in a convenient place, and appropriated them, asking no questions.It was now quite dark, and in a few minutes wo hadcompletely lost our way. The tents had been sent to thevillage El Riha (in which name the reader will catch theresemblance to Jericho), and according to our calculations we ought to be within a half mile of it . But wewere in a sort of cul de sac among some fences of drythorn bush. Here we stopped short to hold a council.In the midst of our deliberation, Whitely fired a pistol,and the next moment we heard the response of Hajji Mohammed's heavy fowling-piece. This gave us our direction, and he continued to fire occasionally until we reachedthe tents.A large camp-fire was kindled near them, and twentyBedouins were seated around it, feasting on our provisions, while a crowd of not less than fifty women of Jericho (whose reputation by the way is exceedingly dubious) ,singing loud, shrill songs, interrupted with wild ullulas ofjoy, were waiting to welcome Miriam, whom the flag onour tent had taught them to suppose a sultana whosebucksheesh would equal their welcome.But dinner was the sole attraction for us, and this beingFOUNTAIN OF ELISHA. 219served and eaten, we slept gloriously on the plain ofJericho.Next morning we found our position. It was near anancient tower, which alone remains of the Jericho of thetime of the crusades, and near a low, miserable mud village, which was surounded by an impenetrable thicket ofdead thorn-bushes. A cistern close by our tents, surrounded by a mosaic pavement, was perhaps the remainsof some ancient palace-garden, and similar spots in theneighborhood indicated the antiquity of the site. Thetower is not older than the middle ages.Twenty Bedouins, of the Ghor of the Jordan, werearound the fire in the morning, and rose as we came out,to give us a morning salutation. There was nothing ofinterest in the miserable village El Riha, and wehastenedaway.Riding a half hour over a luxuriant plain, watered by aclear, sparkling stream, and covered with the nebbek orlote tree, and the zukkum, here quite large, but nowherecultivated with any care, we reached the fountain ofElisha, now called Ain es Sultan. And a sultan's fountainit verily is, gushing up gloriously and running out in asmall stream, heavy enough to work a large cotton-mill.It was as large and copious as any six fountains I hadseen in America, and worthy the miracle of Elisha whichwas here performed. This spot, in all respects, answersthe description of the fountain of Jericho, and as there isno other in this part of the valley, it is manifest that thismust be the one, which at the request of the people, Elishachanged from bitter to sweet, as described in 2 Kings, ii.Here we were much nearer the site of the ancient citythan the spot where we had passed the night, and nearthe fountain, on the plain, in all directions, but especiallyto the south and south-west, are remains of the ancientcity of Herod.220 ANCIENT JERICHO.Jericho possesses an interest to the Christian travelerwhich dates from the entry of the children of Israel intothe Land of Promise. Repeatedly mentioned in the OldTestament, it has its chief and holiest interest in connection with the Saviour's life. It was here that Zaccheussaw him, and here that he healed blind Bartimeus. Itwas here that he received the news of the death of Lazarus, and hence, followed by his sad disciples, he went upthe road we were now about to travel, to Bethany, tocall him back from the land of silence.Tradition endeavors to increase the interest that thusinvests the spot, by making the high mountain, whoseperpendicular walls of rock overhang the plain behind thefountain, the mountain Quarantana, of the forty days'temptation, but of that we will say nothing, since no onecan affirm any thing of it.The fountain is broad and shallow, measuring nowheremore than eighteen inches in depth, bubbling up in allparts of its basin, with quantities of air or gas. It is surrounded by the ruins of a building which has formerlycovered it. I found it filled with fish, many of themmeasuring six inches in length.We rode southward under the foot of Quarantana,whose rugged face is full of caves inhabited by fellaheen,whom Ibrahim Pasha expelled from their villages whichhe burned, and at length crossing the Wâdy Kelt whichcomes down through a deep gorge of the hills from thewest, in the bottom of which flows the brook Cherith, weturned up on the south bank of that brook, and ascendedthe steep hill-side by an ancient road, at the side ofwhich ran once an aqueduct now in ruins. The ascentwas rapid and difficult. Abd-el-Atti had left us at thefountain and ridden on. He was quite ill with a cold andinflammation on his lungs. I found him near the top ofthe hill, lying on the ground under the side of a largeA RUINED MONASTERY. 221rock, in great pain, and having no other remedy at hand,I dismounted, and getting a bottle of brandy from theluncheon bag, poured it in quantities on his breast andrubbed it in with a flannel cloth. Miriam, coming up atthe moment I was pouring it out, shouted out her recollection of an old Bible picture of the good Samaritan pouringoil and wine into the wounds of the man who had fallenamong thieves, and we were thereby reminded that thiswas the road on which the scene of that parable waslaid.The gorge of the brook Cherith was very magnificent.I have seen none in Alpine scenery to equal it for wildand desolate beauty. For an hour we continued to passremains ofthe aqueduct, and at about one o'clock arrivedat an extensive ruined khan, where was a cistern ofwatersurrounded by Arab women, who were drawing waterand carrying it in skins to tents among the mountains. Afortress on a high hill over this was alike in ruins, and suggested memories of brave old days now forgotten. Notradition or history attaches to these spots so far as Icould learn. I find in the pilgrimage of the English saint,Wilibald, mention made by that worthy that, on his wayfrom Jericho up to Jerusalem, he came upon the conventor monastery, " Sancti Eustochii; " " Illud autem stat inmedio campo inter Hiericho et Hierusalem, " adds thevenerable chronicler, and thereby "I conclude that theruin which I now saw may have been this monastery,and the well at which I paused, may have been that atwhich he drank, in the year of grace seven hundred andsixty-five. Other record I know not of. Old ruins like thispossess to me a great interest, in that they rouse imagination, which peoples their halls with princes and priests,monks or ladies of the long- gone years. But whetherthis were monastery of saint, or castle of knight, it andits former habitants are dust now-holy dust of Holy222 BEDOUINS.Land, and the tents of the wandering tribes are the onlyhabitations of man in their once luxuriant valleys.We rode on over hills and through valleys until, fivehours and a half from Jericho, we entered the villageof Bethany, and riding by the tomb of Lazarus, pauseda moment to look in it, then went on over the Mountof Olives by that path so sanctified by the footsteps ofthe Lord, and descending by the garden of Gethsemanewe crossed the Kedron and rode into the gate of St.Stephen.Our party had been increased by the addition of adozen Bedouins, one only of whom wished to enter thecity. The law forbidding himto carry weapons, he beggedme as we were descending the Mount of Olives to takehis gun from him, and I rode into the city with thequeerest-looking matchlock across my saddle that anyChristian man ever carried into Jerusalem.15 .The Birth- place of the World."Now, Miriam, now for Bethlehem! Give the chestnut the rein, and shake off the dust of Jerusalem fromyour feet and garments. Hey, Whitely, touch up thebrown horse!" And we went like the wind out of theJaffa gate, right under the tower of David, and so downinto the valley of the Sons of Hinnom.It was a tremendous pace for that steep descent; butwe had learned lessons in horsemanship in Syria, and mybroad-breasted Mohammed went down the descent withlong plunges, and, as he crossed the dry bed of thestream, lifted his head into the air and shook his flowingmane, as if he were intoxicated with that glorious northwest wind that came down from the hills of Ephraim.On the table-land beyond the Hill of Evil Counsel wefound it blowing great guns. My boornoose streamedoff on the wind, and Miriam's riding-dress was a flag toleeward. They kept up the pace-now the chestnut leading with his mistress, now Whitely ahead, and now Moreright waving his hand in the air as if he carried a Bedouinspear, his favorite style of fast riding, and one which hishorse was, of course, familiar with.I fell behind at the first, for I had paused a moment inthe valley to speak to my old friend Isaac Rosenstein, whois superintending the erection of the Jewish hospital on224 Y'ALLAH.the hill-side, which is founded on the bequests of the lateJudah Touro, and the gifts of American Israelites. Thecharities of the American Jews are noble. Their hospitalwill surpass every thing of the kind in Holy Land; andmany a worn old son of Jacob, seeking the city of Davidto die, and the valley of Jehoshaphat to be buried in,will bless them with expiring breath for this great workwhich they are doing so silently.When I reached the hill-top I saw the party a mileahead of me, and I spoke to Mohammed.Some day, my friend, you may mount one of thosehalf-breed Arabian horses, and know what that means. Itis not safe for a stranger to speak to one of them. Hisfirst motion is a long leap, and at the third jump he is atfull speed."Y'Allah!"It is a profane expression; no doubt of it. But whatis a man to do? The Arabs have a way of being profane, and the name of God is the most common word intheir language. When men say the Turks are very reverent, and are always saying, "Please God," " If Godwill," " In the name of God," " Bismillah," " Mashallah,"and similar expressions, it means nothing more nor lessthan we mean when we say of a man that he swears likea trooper. The word which answers to the English “ Goahead!" the French " Allez!" the Italian " Avanti!" inall oriental countries is " O God!" or " Y'Allah!" Still,as I said, it has passed into common use precisely asAdieu with us, and one must use it.By the time I had thought of half this that I havewritten about the word, the bay horse was going overthe plain like the gale that followed him, and I thunderedup alongside of Miriam as we came to the slight ascentthat approaches the convent of Mar Elias. Passing this,in a few moments we were approaching a small dome, onRACHEL'S GRAVE. 225four- square white walls, that marks a spot of deep interest, being the tomb of Rachel, the wife ofJacob.No spot of ancient interest is better located than this.There has been no period of history at which traditionhas not fixed upon this identical place, and indeed thedescription of the death and burial of the mother ofJoseph and Benjamin leave no room for doubt as to thespot in which she was buried. " And they journeyedfrom Bethel, and there was but a little way to come toEphrath. And Rachel died and was buried inthe way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem, and Jacob seta pillar upon her grave; that is the pillar of Rachel'sgrave unto this day. " (Genesis xxxv. 16-20 . ) Andagain: “ Rachel died by me in the land of Canaan, in theway, when yet there was but a little way to come untoEphrath, and I buried her there, in the way of Ephrath;the same is Bethlehem. " (Genesis xlviii. 7. )The present building is a Moslem kubbet or wely, asmall square building supporting a dome. In the centreof this is a pile of masonry covered with plaster. On theeast side of it is another building adjoining it, with openarches, in which we were glad to find shelter from thepiercing wind. Moslem tombs are around it. One largeopen vault, in the rear of it, was full of skeletons whoseorigin I could not ascertain.Here the tents of Israel were pitched in the centurieslong gone, and here the dying Rachel gave birth to thebeloved Benjamin . Close by her couch, on the one side,was the hill on which her children would build the greatcity, the prototype of the everlasting city of their God.Close by her, on the other side, was the hill on which thevillage would be built, from which would come theSaviour of Israel, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, theShiloh of Joseph, the Hope of Benjamin. It was indeedholy ground on which she lay. The mother of a mighty 107226 BETHLEHEM.race lay down in that ground and slept peacefully,serenely, century after century, nor have men ever disturbed her repose. We gathered flowers close by thetomb. The delicate anemone, and starry flowers thatmight have sprung from the blue eyes of the beloved ofthe old man, Jacob.'The horses became impatient, and Mohammed, who hadfollowed me around among the graves like a dog, liftedup his head as a sudden gust of wind dashed in his face,and started off at a furious rate to make the circuit ofthe kubbet, thereby conveying a hint that it was cold,and one must keep moving to keep warm. So wemounted, and ten minutes more brought us to the entrance of Bethlehem.My friend Pierotti, architect of the Terra Santa, towhom I had been indebted for so many favors in theHoly City, had given us a very kind letter to the superior of the Latin Convent of the Nativity at Bethlehem. But I am convinced it was not necessary to insureus a warm and hospitable reception within the walls ofthat old building.They were walls. It was something to have such pilesof stones between one and the outer world. The window-seats, or niches, were ten feet deep through themassive piles, but the sunshine stole pleasantly in atthem, and lit the room, into which we were shown, witha soft red flush that made it pleasant and homelike.It was a long and lofty chamber, from which openedlittle cells, four feet by seven, with curtains for doors.Each cell had a delicious bed, with white linen, for asleeping-place. Over the end of the room was a largepainting, representing a king and a queen who had maderoyal gifts toward the rebuilding of the convent, andwho looked down on us in strange old style, as if theyGROTTO OF CHRIST'S BIRTH. 227wondered what barbarian land we came from as pilgrimsto the birth-place.Before the sun set we visited the Church and theGrotto ofthe Nativity.The church is one of the oldest structures in Palestine,being that erected by Helena, in the fourth century, overthe supposed spot of the nativity of our Lord. Thebuilding is cruciform, consisting of a nave and twoaisles on each side of it, the aisles supported by fortyancient Moorish pillars, with Corinthian capitals, all ofwhich are grotesquely painted and ornamented in a stylethat is at once unseemly and puzzling. Four more pillars are now concealed in a wall which crosses the lowerside of the transept, and completely separates the greatnave from the upper part of the church. Under thehigh altar is the Grotto of the Nativity, into which twostairways descend, one on each side of the high altar.This grotto, on which much wealth has been lavishedby the three churches who have joint possession of it, theGrecks, Latins, and Armenians, contains two spots ofspecial interest, one, marked with a silver plate thatstates in good Latin, " Here was born of a virgin, JesusChrist our Lord," and another that is cased in marble,and called the manger in which he was laid.Beside these, the spot where the Magi knelt is pointedout, and marked by an altar.The grotto, for it is a cavern in the rock, is gorgeouslyornamented, and hung around with paintings, and goldand silver ornaments. There was one little picture, aCarlo Dolci, that I tried hard to buy, and I came nearsucceeding.In discussing the question of the authenticity of thisspot, I refer the reader to what I shall hereafter remark,in speaking of Jerusalem, on the subject of tradition andits value. And I confess, that at this point I see no pos228 DR. ROBINSON'S ARGUMENT.sible room for doubt that the Lord was born within thissame cave now consecrated to his worship.That I may not be accused of misstating the argumentsagainst this view, I will quote here Dr. Robinson's entireargument on this subject. He introduces it in connectionwith his argument concerning the Holy Sepulchre and theplace of Resurrection. (Biblical Researches, vol. ii. , pages78, 79.)"The cave ofthe Nativity, so-called, at Bethlehem, hasbeen pointed out as the place where Jesus was born, bya tradition which reaches back at least to the middle ofthe second century. At that time Justin Martyr speaksdistinctly of the Saviour's birth, as having occurred in agrotto near Bethlehem. In the third century, Origenadduces it as a matter of public notoriety, so that eventhe heathen regarded it as the birth-place of him whomthe Christians adored. Eusebius also mentions it severalyears before the journey of Helena, and the latter consecrated the spot by erecting over it a church. In this instance, indeed, the language of Scripture is less decisivethan in respect to the place of the Ascension, and theevangelist simply relates that the virgin brought forth herson and laid him in a manger, ' because there was no roomfor them in the inn. But the circ*mstance of the Saviour's having been born in a cave, would certainly havenot been less remarkable than his having been laid in amanger, and it is natural to suppose that the sacred writerwould not have passed it over in silence. The grotto,moreover, was, and is, at some distance from the town,and although there may be still occasional instances inJudea where a cavern is occupied as a stable, yet this isnot now, and never was, the usual practice, especially intowns and their environs. Taking into account all thesecirc*mstances, and also the early and general tendency toinvent and propagate legends of a similar character, andTHE ARGUMENT. 229the prevailing custom of representing the events of thegospel-history as having taken place in grottos, it wouldhardly seem consistent with a love of simple historic truthto attach to this tradition any much higher degree ofcredit than we have shown to belong to the parallel tradition respecting the place of our Lord's ascension. "It will be observed that it is here admitted, that thetradition relating to this grotto is unbroken since themiddle ofthe second century, at which time Justin Martyn speaks ofit.Justin was converted from Platonism to ChristianityA.D. 132. Of his age, we know nothing, but it is not inthe least impossible that he had seen a hundred men whor*membered the days of Christ on earth. It is incrediblethat at that period of time any error could be made inpointing out the birth-place of the Son of God, whosepresence on earth was an event of more astounding importance in the eyes of hundreds of thousands of the inhabitants of the country than would have been the adventof Antoninus, the reigning emperor, or the fall of Romeitself. If a philosopher or an earthly king had been bornin a stable, there would not be the least doubt of thepreservation of the place for twice or ten times thatlength of time. Why, then, imagine that the birth- placeof the King of kings could be mistaken?Simply for these alleged reasons:1. The only evangelist out of the four (Luke) whodeems it important to mention that the babe was laid “ ina manger," does not mention that the manger was in acave.2. This cave was, and is, at some distance from the town.3. It is not now, and never was, the usual practice, especially in towns and their environs, to occupy cavernsas stables.As to the first point, it is true that Luke does not men-230 CAVES USED AS STABLES .tion the cave, nor does he mention that it was in a stable,nor that it was not in one or the other. I confess my inability to perceive the force of the argument, or any reason why the silence of Luke on this subject should operateto prove the cave a fiction, any more than why the entiresilence of the other three evangelists should operate toprove Luke's statement all a fiction . The argument hasequal force, that it is natural to suppose that if true, thesacred writers would not have passed over in silence suchremarkable circ*mstances.As to the second point, the distance from the presenttown may be three or four hundred yards. It is not at allimprobable that the ancient town inclosed this site andswept quite around the hill.But the third point is the most remarkable statement,and here I am compelled to find fault with Dr. Robinson'saccuracy of observation, which is the more surprisinghere as contrasted with his usual careful and reliablestatements.I have no hesitation in saying that I never saw a cavernin Syria, near Jerusalem, or any large town, which wasaccessible to cattle, horses, donkeys, or sheep, that wasnot used as a stable. Perhaps he did not enter these asfrequently as I did, for a sort of mania after caves andtombs led me into every hole that would admit my body.In the valley of Jehoshaphat, all the open caverns werestables. On the side of Aceldama, difficult of access as itwas, horses and donkeys wero nightly stabled in thetombs. In Jerusalem, on the north side of the Via Dolorosa, where for centuries there have been ruins of someancient buildings, leaving a row of ten Gothic-pointedarches above the ground, supporting the vast heaps ofearth known as the site of Herod's Palace, which archesadmitted one to dark, subterranean caves in the earth,every night of my stay in Jerusalem, the camels of wan-ANCIENT CUSTOM. 231dering Arabs were housed for the night, among donkeysand horses of the resident inhabitants. The same wastrue of all parts of Syria, on the road to Hebron, to SaintSabas, to Jericho, and to Galilee.That my own testimony on this subject may not go unsupported, I may refer to Lieutenant Lynch, who states his"own observation of the frequent and almost universalappropriation, where practicable, of caverns and recessesin the rock, for sheltering man and beast from the inclemency of the weather. " (Lynch's Dead Sea Explorations,page 424.) Mr. Stephens's remarks are too well known toneed quotation here.Thus much in regard to present customs.Probably the assertion that such never was the customwould be fully answered by an equally decided assertion,that such always was the custom, and one assertion mighthave equal weight with the other, since there is no authority on the subject. But reasoning from the generalsimilarity ofmodern and ancient customs in castern lands,especially in Syria, it is perfectly safe to believe that suchwas the custom, and I have no doubt, therefore, that theconverse of this third proposition is strictly true, and thatthe use of caverns for stables is, and always was, the usualpractice in Syria, especially in towns and their environs.Much more likely would this be true in a crowded timewhen Bethlehem was overflowing with guests, and whenevery traveler sought what shelter for himself and hisbeast the surrounding country could afford.But "the prevailing custom of representing the eventsofthe gospel history as having taken place in grottoes" sofar from operating as an argument against the authenticity ofthis faith appears to me a strong indication in itsfavor. That custom must have had an origin. Whatwas that origin? Most probably in the fact that some ofthe events of the holy history did take place in grottoes,232 OTHER GROTTOES.This tradition is the earliest that we have distinct knowledge of, and the fact that the Lord was born in a caveand buried in a cave may well have given cause to thecustom of representing other events of his life as havingoccurred in a similar place.Finding this place marked out in the middle of thesecond century as the birth-place of the Lord, and nothing to forbid its truth, but, on the contrary, every thingto favor it, I believed sincerely that I was on the groundhallowed by that event.Various grottoes are connected with that of the Nativityby passages under the church. We visited the altar andtomb of Eusebius and that of Jerome, in succession, as wellas that of Eustachia, and of Paula, a Roman lady, a friendof Jerome, who founded a number of convents in HolyLand, in the fourth century, and died at Bethlehem. Twopaintings over her tomb are exceedingly beautiful.Thence we went to the altar and tomb of the Innocentsslain by Herod, which I think must be the tomb andshrine which Dr. Olin took for that of persons martyredby the Mohammedans, as I could find none such; andfinally we visited the cell of Jerome in which he translatedthe Bible, and which there is no reason to doubt is thechamber of that father.It was curious to be waited on that night by longrobed Franciscans; to have your toast handed you by acowled brother, and your wine poured out by a venerable-looking priest, and your candles lit by a reverendfather.Let me tell you there might be colder and less cozyplaces than that same guest-chamber in the old Conventof the Nativity, after the dinner was cleared away.There was little Miriam in a corner of the diwan, witha pile of cushions around her, resting most pleasantly.There was Whitely making magnificent strides up andCHRISTMAS MEMORIES. 233down the room, and expressing his constant wondermentat the thickness of the walls. There was Moreright rolling a cigarette of his favorite Stamboul tobacco, of whichhe smoked regularly one after dinner, and no more; andthere was your black-bearded friend with his chibouk,filling the air with fragrant Latakea, while, through theclouds that surrounded him, he discoursed somewhat onthis wise:"Ah! Miriam, if I had lived in Bethlehem it should bea Christmas-day the whole year round, and life one longChristmas carol. I would havo feasts in the day audsongs inthe night, and I would keep the birth-night threehundred times a year. Somehow, here in Bethlehem , Iseem to remember only Christmas memories, as if onChristmas days in other years I had been nearer here.Do you remember onlythe few short years ago when ourblithe Jessie sang the carols with us? and now-thereare voices among the seraphim not more musical thanher voice was then; and what must it be now that she isthere? There! Where? Close above us. Ifthere bea place where the heavens are nearer earth than elsewhere, it is here, above the Birth- place and the Sepulchre.And-hush a moment, Whitely; for heaven's sake stopthat heavy tread one instant! I heard a voice outside theconvent walls. ""You did, did you? Why, Braheem Effendi, thosewalls are twelve feet thick. ""Pshaw, man! the voice I heard sounds through sixfeet of earth and violets, and it is no louder than therustle of the grass on her grave, and yet I tell you I heardit from the land of sunset-our land, my friend—our ownold home. ""The Effendi is a little crazy to-night," said Whitely,turning to Moreright, and pausing in his walk." She lived to see just fourteen summers, and, and then234 ONE BELOVED.-what then? Why, then she came to Bethlehem—don't interrupt me, Miriam! She died on a Christmasnight. I remember it as ifit were last night. The inoonon the snow, the snow on the hills, and the blue sky overthem all. And she lay in her little bed, and her longyellow hair-golden as the golden sands of Saharastreamed down the white pillow, and her bright blue eyeswere closed, and her thin white hands were clasped together on her breast; her gentle breast, that neverheaved a sigh, now breathing gently, and as peacefully asif already she were in the atmosphere of heaven. Once,when the curls of gold trembled on the pillow, I believedfor the instant that the winds that blow over those hillsofGod were among the tresses, and fanning her forehead.Once, as I pressed my forehead to the cold window-pane,and looked out on the night and stars, I believed that Isaw the white-robed host approaching; and once whenPhilip who had loved her as his own child-stoopedover her, and she opened her blue eyes and smiled,then I believed-nay, I knew, and it was so-that shesaw nothing on earth-nothing but the ineffable countenance of the Saviour. Yes, she was gone! and where,where would the free soul of the beloved child , who allher life had so loved the story of Bethlehem, go first fromhis presence but to the cradle and the cross?”"Is it all true, Miriam, that he is talking about?”"I believe it is; and do you remember who, at thistime two years ago, was lying even so, and-what daydid she die?"" March 5, 1854; and this is March 7 , 1856. Ah, howpleasant, after all, is the memory of that beloved child!And though her voice is not to be heard any more here-though her fair brow is not again to be uncovered oncarth-I can weep now as I say it—yet, O friends of mine!this same city of Bethlehem is the place to rememberSTARLIGHT ON BETHLEHEM. 235that he who was a little child bade children come to him,and that the jewels of his crown will be their radiantsouls. Yea, I thank God-though it be in tears andpains-I thank God that he gave her to us, and that shedied. Died! Can I say that here? Why, Bethlehemis the birth-place of the race of man. Here he who diesin India or America is born to immortality. The childthat we thought dead in the valley of the Susquehannawas born that night in Bethlehem of Judea-born inthe kingdom of the mighty Son of David. Whitely,light that candle, will you? I've an idea that all theholy fathers are as sound asleep in the convent by thistime as Jerome himself, and I propose finding my way tothe roof of the convent. I marked the passages beforedark, and I wish to see the starlight on Bethlehem . Willyou go with me?""Certainly we will. "I can not attempt to describe the labyrinthine passagesof the old building. It was a walk of an eighth or aquarter of a mile to reach the terraced roof, and on theway we woke the light slumbers of two of the fathers,who put their shaven heads out of the doors of their cells,and muttered what we took for blessings, whether theywere so intended or not.That hour was a life- time. Go out in the starlight ofa Christmas-night at home, my friend, and look up at thestars, and try to realize some of my feelings in the starlight of Bethlehem. I lay down on the roof and gatheredmy boornoose about me, for the wind was not yet gonedown, and I hid my face from my companions while Ilooked up.And then, then-deride if you will, O friend of mine!-laugh if you dare, O miserable unbeliever!-then, inthe high arches of heaven, I heard the echo of the morning song sounding down the ages. And among the voices236 THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM.of the sons of God I caught that distant wail that aloneinterrupted the universal joy, mourning that the Son ofGod must die for that creation. And next, as I lay andlistened, I heard the unspeakable melody of the angelsthat woke the shepherds over on yonder hill; and as Ilay there, that sound-a sound as of the hosts that arearound the white throne-went up into the sky, and diedaway among the stars. It died away, but still I heardanother sound-a faint, far sound-that thrilled throughmy heart and my brain as did not the songs of the newcreation, nor even the angels' voices.When I was a boy-I, whose far-wandering feet hadpressed the holy soil of Canaan, and had brought me tothe plains of Bethlehem Ephratah-in my old home,thousands of miles away, where the forests waved in theautumn winds, and streams dashed with much music ofwater down old rocks, and the oak-tree over the housemoaned, and the wind soughed through the dark pines—when I was a boy, unsullied as yet in heart by worldlycontacts, uncursed as yet by willing sin, I was wont tolie down at evening, wearied with the long day's play,and fall asleep, lulled by my mother's voice in one unchanging song. For years I fell asleep to that music, andthe last sound that hallowed my undisturbed slumber,was that sweet voice singing to " Bonnie Doun, " the Starof Bethlehem.Will you dare you laugh at me, when I tell you thatI heard that voice-that song-that holy sound, awayyonder at Bethlehem, above me among the stars? ThatI shut back the memories that crowded to heart and lip,crushed down the longing I can not tell of, for the claspof those so beloved arms, and that at length I sobbedaloud, and, hiding my face in my boornoose, I wept as Ilay there in the starlight on the convent roof.Laugh if you will; but know of a surety that if I pre-THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 237vail to reach the heaven of our longing hopes, among thetempestuous songs of joy that roll down the banks oftheriver of life, I shall not find perfect melody till I hear thatvoice and song.16 .Where the Eathers are.WE prayed in the morning in the Grotto of the Nativity, finding in it a crowd of young children singing atthe early mass.Many ofthe Bethlehem artisans waited on us with theirwork to sell, and we made some purchases. The chief'business of the place is the manufacture of beads, rosaries, and crosses from olive-wood and other substances,and the carving of stone and the mother of pearl oystershell of the Red Sea, in images of holy men, women, andplaces. Esau, a Bethlehemite, is the most skillful of theworkmen, as I have elsewhere remarked, and asks mostexorbitant prices.The father-superior waited on us very politely just before we started, and expressed his regret at the impossibility of selling me the picture I had seen in the Grotto.It was a melancholy fact, that the war between the Greekand Latin churches had its climax at Bethlehem; andalthough this picture was the property of the Latins, yetif they removed it , it would lead to a dispute on the rightto fill the vacancy; nor could I effect the object by instantly substituting another, as I desired to do on myreturn to Jerusalem. The dispute would still arise, andwould lead to a reference to the authorities and endlessbickerings. I was obliged to yield the matter, and, re-POOLS OF SOLOMON. 239luctantly bidding the good monks farewell, we departedfor Hebron.One hour and a half from Bethlehem, we were at thePools of Solomon. These vast reservoirs are three innumber, in the slope of a narrow valley, where it is probable that the great king had a country seat and gardens.Each pool is lower than the one next above it, so that thewater runs successively from one to the other, and fromthe last by an aqueduct to Jerusalem.The measurements of Cassas, whose plans I have beforeme, give the upper pool, 200 French feet by 366; thesecond, 206 by 366; and the third, 166 by 480.Dr. Robinson's measurements, which are manifestlymuch more accurate, are as follows:Upper Pool.-380 feet (English), by 160 at the westend and 250 at the cast. Depth at cast end, 25 feet.Middle Pool. -423 feet, by 160 and 250 feet. Depthat east end, 39 feet.Lower Pool.-582 feet, by 148 and 207 feet. Depthat cast end, 50 feet.An old Saracen fortified castle stands near the upperpool, with an ancient gateway leading into it. I rode in,and found an intensely black Nubian in solitary possession, and innumerable earthern pots, built up in highwalls, by way of hives for bees, of which there were anyquantity.Not far from the front of this fortress is the fountainfrom which the pools are supplied. A stairway descendsthrough a mason-work passage about twelve feet, into asmall chamber, in which a basin collects the water fromseveral springs, and discharges it toward the upper pool.At the corner of the upper pool, it is received into a sortof subterranean fountain, which is also reached by steps,and thence distributed to the pool.The original fountain is very probably a work of Solo-240 VALLEY OF ESHOOL.mon's day, and is supposed to be the sealed fountain referred to in the Canticles, iv. 12.The road to Hebron from the pools is over the samedesolate country that I have already described in otherparts of Syria. I shall speak of it more in detail in describing our return to Jerusalem.It was three in the afternoon when we began to secthose signs of cultivation and luxuriance that indicatedour approach to the valley of Eshcol. The hills opened;the valley was fenced in, and vines covered the inclosures.Astone watch-tower was built up in each vineyard, wherethe owners, who live in the city, are accustomed to passthe summer months. They are not to be called houses,for they are but square walls of rough stone, withoutmortar, roofed over with brush or thatch, and withoutwindows. The inhabitants of Syria need few luxuries.Beds are unknown, and a family of moderate means canbe comfortable in such a hut, sleeping on straw or on theground.The road became now quite home-like, as it narrowedbetween stone walls, over which the vines were growing.But it was not home-like underfoot, where the usual accumulation of rough stone made the footing insecure, andfrom time to time tried our horses' knees severely. Butat last we found ourselves suddenly among houses, and,in a moment more, rode down by the southern side ofthe upper city of Hebron.The city is divided into three parts, none of which arewalled. They scatter along a valley between high mountains, an open space separating each from the other. Thelower city is the largest and most important, since in it isthe great mosk that covers the cave of Machpelah. Passing the two upper sections we reached the town; and,turning into it by a pool, and entering by an old archway,we rode up a dark narrow street to the Jews' quarter, inHEBRON. 241which we had been told at Jerusalem that we could obtaincomfortable lodgings.Let me here warn the traveler who visits Hebron, notto be deluded by such representations. We repented, inagony of skin, all night long, that we had left our tents atJerusalem.The only house in Hebron into which travelers couldbe admitted was that of a Jew, whose hospitality wasabundant in anticipation of full repayment. It was aqueer little old house, dating somewhere this side ofAbraham's day, which we reached through narrow winding, dismal passages, out of which opened many Jewishdoors, in which were many pretty Jewish faces. Oneroom given us was open to the stars of heaven, beingonly an alcove, from a small open court. The other, aclosed room, opened from it; and on the floor were spreadsome coverlids, by way of bed and bedding.Leaving Abd-el-Atti to arrango the comforts of life, worode out to examine the city.Hebron is known to Moslems only as El Khalil (TheFriend), a name derived from the common title ofAbraham, "the friend of God;" and not, as has beensupposed, from El Khulet (The Castle) . They relate that,in a sore famine, the Father of the Faithful despatchedhis servants into Egypt to one of his own friends there,asking for corn. The Egyptian refused it, saying, that ifit were for Abraham and his family he would send itinstantly, but as he knew that what he sent would begiven away to all the poor of the land in Abraham's usualmanner, he would not consent to send him any to be thuswasted. The servants, ashamed to be seen coming backwith empty bags, filled them with fine sand, which theybrought home, telling the result of their journey toAbraham alone. As he lay on his couch, revolving in hisbrain the means of preserving his family and retainers11242 MOSK OF MACHPELAH.from impending starvation, Sarah went to one ofthe bags,which had been deposited in the tent, and, opening it,took out meal and baked bread. Abraham, smelling theburning bread, demanded where she had obtained themeal, and she replied: " It is what came but just nowfrom your friend in Egypt. " " Say, rather," exclaimedthe grateful patriarch, " that it came from my friend, GodAlmighty. "The inhabitants ofthe city are friends to no one. Theyare the most bigoted Moslems of the East, and absolutelyforbid the residence of a Christian within their town.They guard their great mosk with the most jealous care,considering it polluted by the gaze of a Christian on itsouter walls.It is an immense building of handsome stone, with beveled edges. No position can be obtained near it sufficiently high to overlook its lofty walls. These are notinclosed by a roof. They are out-walls of a court, in oneend of which stands a smaller building that covers thecave of Machpelah.Benjamin of Tudela, who visited Hebron when theChristians held sway in the Holy Land, A.D. 1163, described the spot much as it is now described. He saidif a wealthy person offered a sufficient fee a door wasopened, " which dates from the time of our forefathers,who rest in peace; " and, with a taper in his hands, thevisitor passed through two empty caves, and reached athird, wherein were six sepulchres, those of Abraham,Isaac, and Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, and Leah, opposite eachother. All bore inscriptions like this: " This is the sepulchre of our Father Abraham, upon whom be peace. " NoChristian is now permitted to enter the inclosure; scarcely,indeed, is one allowed to approach it.As we rode up toward it, the news of our arrival spreadlike wildfire through the town, and a crowd of men,AN AMERICAN LESSON. 243women, and children met us near the Haram with shoutsofdefiance and derision, forbidding us to approach. Disregarding them, we rode on to the front of the building,and then around it, and up the steep hill-side behind it,till we were on an eminence commanding it. But we couldsee nothing more than its vast walls of large beveledstone, which seem to have been standing since the daysofJewish power. Our eyes could not prevail to penetratethe rocky curtain, and see the opening of that cave inwhich the mighty and the beloved slumbered.No place on earth, away from Jerusalem, is of moreprofound interest than this; and I know ofno spot whichI more desired to sec.While we paused on the hill, the boys who had followedus threw stones at us from a distance, and emboldened byour taking no notice of them, at length approached us,shouting, "Nazara, kelb, kafir," and other words of contempt. Words did not hurt, but stones did; and as onestruck the brown horse on the side of his head, Whitelylifted him in two long bounds that brought him amongthe boys; and seizing the largest of them, a fellow offulleighteen, with his left hand, he swung him literally acrosshis horse's neck. The position was not favorable to aperfect covering of his body by his loose shirt. On thecontrary, those parts which are especially designed forsuch purposes were exposed to the full force of the whip,which the American pasha laid on with a swinging arm.I will insure that young hound against calling a Christiana dog henceforth. He was a converted Moslem before myfriend threw him in a heap into a mud-hole; and theother boys were aghast at this unheard- of outrage on aMoslem by a Christian. But they did not disturb usfurther; and we rode down the hill and visited one ortwo of the rude glass- blowing establishments, which arethe chief business of Hebron. They manufacture glass244 JEWISH HOSPITALITY.bracelets and anklets for the women and children of Syria, which they put on when young, and retain, withoutbreaking, until the foot or hand grows too large for them.to come off.Returning to our Jewish quarters, we found Abd- elAtti in a state of excitement hitherto unparalleled. Itappeared that we were in the midst of a Jewish holyweek, when they observed sundry special formalities,among which was one which forbade them to eat or drinkfrom any dish defiled by a Christian's touch. Hence wecould not have either cooking utensils or table-furniture,and dire was the commotion consequent thereon; for beit known that Abd- el-Atti had been entrapped into allthis by a son of our host in Jerusalem, who was authorized to assure us that his father would be happy to accommodate us like lords. We, of course, forbade interferencewith the religious feelings of the family; and havingdrinking- cups in our pockets, and metallic plates andknives and forks in our luncheon-bag, we made a mealfrom the remains of our luncheon, and boiled eggs whichwe found means to cook; and then sat together aroundthe miserable tallow candle, that made the darkness visible, while we laughed over the appearance of our accommodations in Hebron.It was the first decided error that Abd-el-Atti hadmade in several months, and in this he was not speciallyto blame.The deep window- seat of the old house opened by arude shutter on the plain outside the city, for the housewas on the very edge of the dense mass of buildings, ofwhich the outer circle, joining one to another, and beingaccessible by doors only from within, answered to a certainextent the purposes of walls. The windows were innocent of glass, and through the loose shutters the coldnight wind found its way in piercing blasts. But not-PLAIN OF MAMRE. 245withstanding the wind, before I slept I threw open theshutters and looked out on the valley and the hills, andrecalled the most interesting passages in the history ofthat ground.This verily was the spot where those events occurredin centuries so long ago that I can almost as well realizethat I am in another world, as where the tent of Abrahamwas pitched, and the angels visited him.When men began to build cities, in the years immediately after the deluge, Hebron was founded. In Numbers, xiii. 22, we learn that Hebron was built seven yearsbefore Zoan in Egypt, a fact which the sacred writer evidently mentions as showing its great age.Its first appearance in sacred history is when Abramtook up his abode " on the plains of Mamre which isHebron." The word here translated plains is more properly to be read terebinth, or oak grove, and hence arosea tradition, which is found in all the centuries since Bibletimes, of a terebinth of Abraham. The early writers speakof it as having lasted from the time of Abraham to thatof Christ, when it died. There is now near Hebron avast tree of this description, which stands in solitarygrandeur, bearing the tradition at present, but probablynot very ancient, though certainly the most remarkabletree in Syria.But here the history of God's chosen people commenced. Here Abraham and Sarah lived, and here occurred that incident in the family history of the fatherof the faithful which so often occurs in families at thisday, the first death, that makes it necessary to purchasea burial-place for our dead. Not a few old men havelikened themselves to Abraham when, with quivering lipand bursting hearts, they have bargained with others fordeep places in which to lay the beloved out of sight.Abraham stood up from before his dead. She lay there,246 A BURIAL- PLACE.cold and calm, who had been once the beloved of hisyouth, the splendidly beautiful Sarah, to whom princesand kings had bowed in admiring love, and he had beensitting in his tent by her side, with his head bowed downover his face, his memory sweeping over the century oftheir love. He stood up, and spoke to the children ofHeth, and said, " I am a stranger and sojourner with you;give me a possession of a burial- place with you, that Imaybury my dead out of my sight." She at least wouldwander no more. She was in the city which had foundations whose builder and maker was his friend and God.And Ephron sold him the field and cave of Machpelah,and 66 after this Abraham buried Sarah his wife in thecave of the field of Machpelah before Mamre; the sameis Hebron in the land of Canaan."Watching and waiting for many years beside his wife'sresting-place, the old man sent his servant Eleazar tobring a wife to his son, and it was somewhere on thesefields that Isaac was walking and meditating at eveningand met Rebekah. For twenty-five years of his old ageshe was the daughter of Abraham, but he had comfortedhimselfwith another wife, and had now a host of children,who perhaps displaced in some measure the older son inhis affections. More likely still is it that they were a trialto his old age, for they were men whose names are lost inthe rolls of the servants of his God on earth.But when the old man, the mighty patriarch, whosename was a terror to the kings of the land, both for theprowess of his own stout arm and the promise that thevery name contained of a coming multitude to possesstheir country, when Abraham at length departed to thatsublime company in which he recognized Noah, and satdown by Adam, Abel, and Enoch, where henceforth hisopen arms would receive the hosts of his descendantswho sought his bosom, his younger children , either tooTHE PATRIARCHS. 247young to take part in the ceremony, or offended at theold man's will, in which he disowned them and gave hiswhole estate to Isaac, and lacking the affection that theelder had, are not heard of at his grave. But the wanderer, the oldest son, not demanding or desiring aughtbut a son's privilege, returned to the valley from thesouthern plains, and " his sons Isaac and Ishmael buriedhim in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron. "Isaac was a very slow sort of man. No event of hislife marked it. He was born, lived, and died in this valley,content, like other sons of rich men, to live on his inherited estates. He was apparently very easily managed fromboyhood. He submitted without resistance to the proposed sacrifice in the land of Moriah, and when he wasforty years old, and his mother was dead, he made no objection to his father's choice of a wife for him. When hesaw her "he brought her into his mother Sarah's tent,and took Rebekah, and she became his wife. And heloved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother'sdeath."The inferior of his keen wife, and absolutely sold by hissharp son Jacob, there is no incident of his life that evincesany thing in his character above, scarcely indeed up tothe common order of humanity.Esau was every whit a nobleman. The character of theolder son shines even in contrast with that of Jacob,whose evil traits have become proverbial as characteristicof his descendants. When his father and mother weregrieved because of his wives, Esau went and married hisuncle Ishmael's daughter, who he thought would pleasethem. But deprived by his sharp brother of his birthright and his blessing, he did for a moment promisehimself revenge, a thought that gave place to better determinations at length. When time had made him an oldman, and he an 1 Jacob carried a hundred years oflife on248 BURIAL SCENES.their bent shoulders, Isaac gave up the ghost and died,and was gathered unto his people, and his sons Esau andJacob buried him. Once more the great cavern openedits portals to receive to the silent companionship of Abraham and Sarah their only son, and once again for his wifeRebekah.In the still night that rested on Mamre, I could see thetall forms ofthe two great sons of Isaac, standing beforethe grand sepulchre; Esau, stern and magnificent, theprince of Seir, Jacob, weak and trembling, the shepherdof Canaan. The one stout and strong in his own prideand confidence, like the desert princes of this day, theother, bent and feeble with premature age and decay.Then the cave received the form of Leah to its increasing company, and then it was closed and deserted, andnone of the descendants ofthe great father of the faithfulwere near to watch his place of rest.But the stillness of the valley of Eshcol was brokenby the sound of an advancing army and the heavy notesof mournful music. Men called it the mourning of theEgyptians, nor did they understand that he whose boneswere brought with such majestic pomp to the cave ofMachpelah, was the father of a race of kings who shouldpossess the land of Canaan for a thousand years.I saw this scene, too, on the hill-side. The stone wasrolled back from the door, and the eyes of men mightagain gaze in on the repose ofthe fathers. The bier wasset down at the entrance, and twelve stalwart men,robed as princes, stood over the dust of the great dead,and bowed their heads in reverence. One, most royalof all, in form and feature as in apparel, stood by his father's head and pledged his love to his stout brethrenthenceforth forever, and they lifted Israel to the side ofhis father Isaac and his beloved Leah, as he had biddenthem in that exquisite sigh ofthe old man's dying hour:THE CLOSED TOMB . 249"I am to be gathered unto my people! Bury me withmy fathers, in the cave that is in the field of Ephron, theHittite, in the cave that is in the field of Machpelah, whichis before Mamre, in the land of Canaan, which Abrahambought with the field of Ephron, the Hittite, for a possession of a burial- place. There they buried Abrahamand Sarah his wife; there they buried Isaac and Rebekahis wife, and there I buried Leah. ""And when Jacob had made an end of commandinghis sons, he gathered up his feet into the bed, and yieldedup the ghost, and was gathered unto his people. " Andthen the cave of Machpelah was closed against the dead,and no more came to the assembly in its gloom. Somehave indeed supposed that Joseph was at last carried tohis father's resting- place, but we have no authority forbelieving that his bones were removed from Shechem.As years passed, the sacrilegious hands of men may haverifled the tomb of its sacred contents, and scattered thedust of the patriarchs on the soil of their beautiful valley.The oak that spreads its giant arms on the plain, mayhave within its stout form some of the blood of Abraham.The vines that gleam in autumn with their golden fruits,may spring from the dust of Rebekah. The solitary palmthat stands by the great mosk, may have taken its statelybeauty from the graceful form of Leah.But the place itself has never been forgotten, and cannot now be mistaken.The force of God's promise to his faithful servant cameover me with a force and beauty I had never before experienced, as I looked up again at the same stars thatAbraham saw when God bade him look on them and seethe number of his children.Four thousand years have passed since that promisewas made on the plains of Mamre, and it has been longsince fulfilled . The children of Abraham, a host more11 *250 THE PROPHECY FULFILLED .than any man can number, having suffered captivity inEgypt, and wandered through the wilderness of Expiation, possessed the land of that promise, built in it gorgeous cities, and the temple which God disdained not tooccupy with his visible presence, offered sacrifices for centuries on the high altar of Isaac's offering, and then wereswept away on the wind, like the smoke of their own incense. The song of their temple ceased to be heard,except in the mournful echoes of the tombs of Jehoshaphat. The smoke of the daily sacrifice ceased to ascend,but gathered and hung in a gloomy cloud over the holyhill, invisible to mortal eyes indeed, but visible to immortal, as the evidence of the accomplished vengeance of God.They offered their last great sacrifice on Calvary, crucified their Lord, and invoked the curse of his blood onthemselves and their children. Then the promise toAbraham now totally and forever forfeited, they werescattered over the face of the earth, persecuted, drivenup and down the highways and byways of life, among allpeople, until the name of Abraham became a reproachamong men, and Israel the scoff of every nation. Thedescendants of the barbarian inhabited the land, and thenthe children of Ishmael and of Esau returned to possessit, and the blessing of Isaac on his nobler son, " By thysword shalt thou live, and shalt serve thy brother, and itshall come to pass, when thou shalt have the dominion ,thou shalt break his yoke from off thy neck," was fulfilled,and the birthright which Israel bought for a mess ofpottage, and sold again to the nations of the earth forold garments to conceal his nakedness and shame, Esauretook by his sword, and possesses unto this day.High over all in the serene sky, the stars that heardthe promise, and were indeed the letters of light in whichit was written, remain calm, and cold, and unchanged,above the valley of Hebron, as calm and cold to- night,VISIT TO THE MOSK . 251above my head, as when their eyes fell on the white tentsof Abraham, and the laughing eyes of the incredulousSarah.I did not sleep that night. Regiments of fleas attacked me, whole armies in perfect organization, and Iturned out at daylight in a humor to fight Hebronites.Nor was I likely to go without the opportunity.We rode out early to the mosk. I had strong hopesofbeing able to effect an entrance, but these were utterlyrouted when I saw the crowd in front of the great doorway. We sent for Sheik Khalil, a venerable old man,who is the chief in the Haram, and while we waited, thecrowd shouted at us all the derisive names they could invent. I think the old man gets his name as a bishopdoes, from his diocese.We had learned how to manage this sort of people,and so long as they did us no harm we let them enjoytheir own voices. Whitely would hurl a lot of Englishepithets at them once in a while, and amuse himself byan indiscriminate cursing of their fathers and prophets.But it was all blessing as much as cursing to them, although they would stop and listen curiously while hetalked.The sheik arrived, and instantly bade us dismount andenter the outer gate of the mosk at one of the sides,which we did, and he thereupon shut the vast doors between us and the enraged people. A cry was raisedamong them that he was going to take us into the mosk,and the town was alarmed. But there were a dozen ofthe fanatical dogs inside with us, and they shouted backthat we should not see the interior of the Haram, although we were already far beyond the privilege ofChristians. We were not within the building, but onlywithin a broad alley-way that passes up the outside of it,and admits the visitor to a door at a hundred feet from252 INTERIOR OF THE MOSK.the gate. The sheik led us about fifty feet to a dooropening into his own house, and entering this we mountedto the upper floor, where his reception room was located.As we entered it, another door near by was half opened,and a white hand beckoned Miriam to enter. She left usand disappeared in the hareem, where she describes herreception as cordial, and decidedly impressing. Ayoungand beautiful Circassian woman, the sole wife of the oldsheik, received her in her open arms, pressed kisses onboth her cheeks, and overwhelmed her with affectionateembraces. Then her hair, and face, and dress, and ornaments underwent the strictest examination, and her glovesproduced immense astonishment.We sat down to coffee and pipes on the diwan withSheik Khalil, and discussed the propriety of an attemptto enter the mosk. The old man expressed his perfectwillingness to conduct us through it if it could be managed secretly, but now our arrival in town was so wellknown that it was out of the question. He volunteeredthe offer of admitting me if I would return from Jerusalem alone a week later, in disguise, and promised topass an entire night with me in the mosk. I can nevertoo much regret my inability to accomplish this undertaking.I sent Abd-el-Atti into the mosk while I was with thesheik, and he returned and gave me a description; buthe could not draw me a plan that I could understand.IIe told me that in the outer court was a tomb called thatof Joseph, while within the inner mosk were the severaltombs or tumular structures of the patriarchs. The caveitself opens from the end of the inner building, and is adark cavern, across the mouth of which the floor of themosk passes, so that the visitor walks before the cave andlooks down into it, being elevated above its floor. But itis so dark within that nothing can be seen. None butSYMPTOMS OF AN ATTACK . 253royal visitors, or those high in the Moslem religion, areever permitted to enter the cave, and its contents are un- known.It was not a little painful to find myself so near thespot once occupied by those mighty relics, and not beallowed to see it . But we were forced to content ourselves with the coffee and pipes, and the religious conversation of Sheik Khalil, who was a trump in his way, andwhose Latakea was as worthy of commendation as hispiety. He talked much about the mosk, but I could notget him to describe the interior of the cavern.But the row outside at length became terrific, and webegan to think that if we did not hurry out they wouldtear the mosk down to get at us. A miserable dog of aderweesh, filthy and disgusting in his appearance, who wasinside, and to whom I had given an uncommonly largebucksheesh, was howling out a torrent of curses in returnfor it when we reached the gate, which was still closed."Shut up your music-box, old fellow," shouted Whitely, in a voice that brought the scoundrel to his senses inan instant, and as he suspended his vociferations the gatesswung open, and our expectant friends had a view of us.They were silent for an instant while we mounted ourhorses, and then opened a lane for us toward the bazaars.Weparted from Sheik Khalil with profound assurancesof distinguished respect and regard, sealed with a dollarwhich the old man slipped up his sleeve with a dry winktoward his derweesh friend, and then trusted ourselves tothe tender mercies of five hundred as vile-looking menand women as one might wish to see, who eyed us as somany hungry dogs would eye a bone, which each wishedbut none dared to seize. As we advanced , the shouts ofderision began to rise behind us, and the lane closedin. Abd-el- Atti led our march, and Whitely and myselfbrought up the rear; the brown horse and the bay stepped254 MORAL SUASION .daintily along; once in a while the bay sheered into thecrowd, in a way much pleasanter to the rider than thepeople on foot.We had left the crowd, and were slowly advancingtoward the bazaars, when a stone flew by my head, followed by a volley. Moved bythe same impulse, Whitelyand myself wheeled together, and each drawing a revolverfaced thecrowd that was advancing downthe narrowstreet.The shudder of fear that went through the assemblywas actually visible. Two balls in that mass would havemade terrible havoc. We stood thus, facing each otherfor thirty seconds, and then I raised my pistol and firedsix balls successively in the air, and replacing it in myshawl took out another (my volcanic repeater) , and shookit in their faces.It was enough. The terror of that revolver will remain in Hebron as a civilizer. We turned our horses'heads again and rode very slowly on, but no more stoneswere thrown, nor did one of the crowd pass that spot.Ten minutes afterward passing the lower Pool of Hebron which is, probably, the one over which David hungthe murderers of Ish-bosheth (2 Samuel, iv. 12) , andlooking leisurely at the lower end ofthe town, we turnedup the valley and bade farewell to the burial-place of thepatriarchs.

We paused a half hour under the great tree in theupper part ofthe valley, of which I have spoken, knownas the terebinth ofAbraham. This magnificent tree, byfar the finest in Syria, has a trunk about seven feet indiameter, and extends its branches for nearly fifty feet inall directions. Its great size and its situation near Hebron has given it its name, but there is no possibility ofits dating so far back as the period of the Saviour, muchless of Abraham.It stands in the midst ofthe extensive vineyards oftheROAD TO JERUSALEM. 255valley of Eshcol which, at the time of our visit, were inbud, but not yet in leaf. Every thing indicated a luxuriant growth of the grape in this valley, and the accounts that we received were like those that the spiesgave to Moses.Weleft the tree at 11 o'clock, retracing our way somedistance, and struck into the Jerusalem road again.At one hour from Hebron we came to a ruin, heaps oflarge stones and the remains of a wall, called by theArabs, Beit Ibrahim, the house of Abraham. The sheikofthe mosk had explained to me in the morning that thiswas where Abraham lived, and the ruins of his residence.Such is the tradition.At half an hour further we passed a fountain on theright with ruins near it and hewn tombs in the face of arocky ridge behind it. Immediately opposite to this, ona high hill, stands a large ruin called Beit Gala. Onehour from this we crossed a hill on whichis a large poolofwater, and the finest grove of olive- trees I have seen inSyria. Large stones lie scattered around in various directions, but there was no distinct ruin. It is now calledBeit Oumar.We pressed on more rapidly in the afternoon, for itgrew cold and the wind penetrated our coverings andchilled us. The road was awful. I need scarcely repeatthis, for all roads in Syria are alike. But there are placeson this road where a horse can with difficulty go throughthe narrow passes between the rocks, and where the footing is dangerous in the extreme. I would sooner thinkof riding up into the fourth story of an American housethan up some of those precipitous passes,At five hours from Hebron we reached the Pools ofSolomon, and paused only to water our horses, standinga few moments within the ruined castle for shelter fromthe cutting wind.256 AMERICAN FRIENDS.We left Bethlehem on the right. Three fourths of anhour from the pools and five and three fourths from Hebron, we passed Rachel's tomb. Just here the road wasso bad that I preferred trying a patch of ploughed groundamong some olives. It was inclosed in a stone wall threefeet high. I rode the bay horse at it, and he, instead ofgoing over it as I intended he should, mounted the walland went twenty feet along its top, as casily as a dogwould go, and, to my astonishment, Miriam followed me,on the chestnut. They then took the field and crossing itat an easy run, went over the low wall into the next, andso we rode on for a fourth of a mile, when we turned tothe road again, and at seven hours from the time ofleaving Hebron we rode into the Jaffa gate of Jerusalem.The sun was setting as we crossed the Hill of EvilCounsel, and its red beams fell on the walls ofthe HolyCity with a rich glowthat made them singularly beautiful.The bleak wind blew cold across the hills of Ephraim aswe passed on, and our cloaks flew out on the breeze aswe went along the high table land before descending intothe valley of Ben Hinnom. Never was home and firemore welcome to cold and weary pilgrims than was thohouse of Antonio to us that night.Nor was Jerusalem any less pleasant to us for that aparty of American gentlemen had arrived the day previous, among whom were some of our personal friends.How strangely we cross each others' tracks in wandering over the world. In this party were two gentlemen,our good friends F and B- , of Philadelphia. Wemade their acquaintance in Jerusalem. They overtookus in Beyrout again, we went to Stamboul and strolledthrough the gorgeous bazaars together, and made a partyup the Bosphorus to the Giant's mountain.They went to the Crimea, but a month later we foundtheir cards on our table in the Via Babuino at Rome.WE MET IN JERUSALEM. 257They left us there and went homeward, to America, aswe and they supposed, but two months after that, in arailway carriage, at Windermere in the lake country, weheard familiar voices in the next carriage, and shouting aSalaam Aleikoum, received their cheery reply. It is apleasant and memorable thing to say of a friend, " Wemet first in Jerusalem."17.The Holy Places.THE reader who is not interested in the discussion ofthe topography of Jerusalem, and the locality of the HolySepulchre, will lose none of the incident of travel in thisvolume ifhe pass directly over this to section 18.I have no idea that these subjects can be finally disposed of by this or any argument; but I believe that thediscussion by successive travelers will tend to throw additional light on the questions, and aid in the ultimate discovery of truth, which will be established only whenexcavations can be carried on in and around Jerusalem.I am confident that, with proper aid and a firman fromthe Sultan, I could, by running two trenches through certain parts of the city, without injury to existing buildings,determine questions which are of more interest to theChristian world than all the discoveries of Egypt andAssyria. It is to be hoped that some one will be allowedto do this before long; meantime we must be content toargue the matter.I have differed materially from Dr. Robinson, the distinguished American traveler, in what I have written;nor have I in all respects agreed with Dr. Williams, hislearned opponent, on the questions relating to the HolyPlaces. I am indebted to both these gentlemen for theaid their research has afforded in the historical part ofthe argument.

2816 13 1830 34GROUND PLAN OF THE CHURCH (19B1. Principal door.REFERENCES.2. Place for Turkish guards.3. Stone of unction.4. Tomb ofGodfrey.5. Tomb of Baldwin.6. Tomb of Melchisedek.7. Chapel of Adam and of John Baptist.8. Tomb of Adam.9. Robing- rooms.10. Armenian altar.127. Where Christ appeared to Mary Magdalene as agardener.28. Where M. M. stood.29. Altar ofFranks.30. Part of the pillar of fia- gellation. 31. Church of the Latins.32. Where Christ appeared to his mother after resur- rection.11. Place where Virgin Mary 33.stood whilethe body was anointed.12. Stairwayto Armen. chapel and lodgings.13. Chapel ofthe Angel.14. The Holy Sepulchre.15. Altar of the Copts.16. Altar of the Syrians.Place of recognition ofthe Cross.34. Latin robing-room.35. Place of Christ's bonds.36. Chapel ofthe Virgin.37. Chapel of Longinus the Centurion.17. TombsofJoseph and Nico- 39.demus.38. Chapel ofparting the gar- ments.Chapel ofthe mocking.40. Stairs in solid rock going 18. The arch entrance to cen- tral Greek chapel.down 49 steps.41. Chapel ofSt. Helena. 19. Greek "centre of world. " 42. Chapel of Penitent Thief.20. Monks' stalls. 43. 13 steps downin the rock. 21, 22. Greek Patriarch's seat . 44. Chapel ofthe finding ofthe 23. Place ofthe paintings. Cross.24. Table of Prothesis. 45.THECHURCHOF THE HOLYSEPULCHRE.25. Holy Table.26. Great throne of Greek Pa- triarch.Altar ofFranks.46. Latin and Greek stairs to Calvary, which is over the figures 7, 8.

TOPOGRAPHY OF JERUSALEM. 259I.GENERAL TOPOGRAPHY.MODERN Jerusalem is not the same city in size or shapethat stood on the hills in the days of Christ. The ancientJerusalem was, in fact, two cities which had grown together; Zion, on its hill, enclosed in strong walls; Moriah, the hill of the temple, equally strong; and thehouses which filled the deep valley between them. Thefirst wall of the entire city connected these two hills, andserved only to fortify the intermediate space; while allof the city outside these walls, and it was doubtless verylarge, remained unprotected against enemies, until a verylate period.Our only means of knowledge in relation to the topography of ancient Jerusalem are the Scriptures of theOld and New Testaments, the writings of Josephus, andthe works of early fathers. Josephus wrote within thefirst century, and Eusebius something more than twohundred years later. The former was present at thesiege of Jerusalem, about A.D. 70; the latter was presentat the dedication of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre inA.D. 335, and had probably been well acquainted withJerusalem for many years prior to that date. He wrotehis Life of Constantine after that emperor's death, whichoccurred A.D. 340.The descriptions of Josephus profess to be accurate,In some respects they are so; in others probably quitootherwise.Enough is clear, however, to enable us to fix the positionof Zion and Moriah. These two great hills have neverbeen doubted . The reader will bear in mind my simpleillustration of the appearance of Jerusalem, in which Ilikened it to a two-tined fork, Zion being the right handand shorter, Moriah the left and longer tine,260 NORTH BROW OF ZION.Abundant evidence is afforded us in Jerusalem thatthe north side of Zion was precipitous. The fact that itis not so now has been a subject of great difficulty tothose who have not examined the foundation and locationof the present citadel, near the Jaffa gate.Looking on this from the west, half way to the upperPool of Gihon, no one can long hesitate to admit thatthe castle of David, so called, stands on the extremenorth point of Zion, and that there was a deep, narrowravine extending across this tine of the fork, completelycutting it off.If there were no other evidence of this than the fortyeighth Psalm-that passage which as yet has found no intelligible explanation-" Beautiful for situation, the joyof the whole earth, is Mount Zion, on the sides of thenorth, the city of the great king," is sufficient to lead tothe belief that Mount Zion had a fine situation on thenorthern side. Every other reading weakens the forceof the passage. But we are not left in doubt about it,since Josephus repeatedly speaks of and describes thisnorthern declivity of Zion, which Titus never succeededin capturing until it was deserted in fright by its Jewishdefenders. *Zion then extended only as far north as this ravine.Ofthe shape of this ravine we shall speak hereafter.There remain two other hills to be located; and aboutthese there is much difference of opinion. Josephus callsthem Akra and Bezetha. Akra was separated fromMount Zion by a valley which Josephus calls the valleyof the Tyropoon, which may be translated the valley ofthe Cheesemakers. To locate this valley and the hillsAkra and Bezetha is then our first object.My views of the position of Akra are different fromthose of Dr. Robinson on the one hand, and Dr. Williamson the other,B. J. ix. 8, 4.THE OTHER HILLS . 261II.AKRA AND BEZETHA.BEFORE proceeding, however, I beg leave to call thereader's attention, especially if he be one who has visitedJerusalem, to the fact that the surface of the ground haschanged very much since the days of Josephus, particularly in the bottoms of the valleys, where the accumulation would be naturally greatest. At any pointin the valley, between Zion and Moriah, there must havebeen a very great filling up.All the descriptions of this valley, the mention of steps.from the temple area leading down into it, the bridgethat crossed it, and the present level of the broken archwhich remains, indicate that the bottom of this valleywas not less than thirty, and probably fifty feet below itspresent level. But this change relates only to the valley.The rocky summit of the hill of the Holy Sepulchre, aswell as the position of the Damascus gate, is not anylower than formerly.The descent of the land from the Damascus gate tothe centre of this valley, must have been very muchgreater than now, and, indeed, very sharp and abrupt,especially if the deep trench on the north side of thetemplo aren was, as is probable, carried out into thevalley.Begging the reader to place himself in the bottom ofthis depression, as it then was, and look around him, Inow proceed to state what I suppose to have been thelocation of the hill Akra, and its relation to the otherhills ofthe city.Zion, all are agreed, was the south-western part of thecity, and, although I heard at Jerusalem an idea suggested by some of the English resident missionaries, that262 AKRA AND BEZETHA.Zion included the whole western and north-western partof the city, quite out to the present north-west corner ofthe walls, I am satisfied no one will seriously maintainsuch a proposition in the face of the abundant proofs thatthe north wall of Zion was on a rocky precipice. Looking around us, therefore, we see coming into the basin inwhich we stand, from the west, a narrow ravine, a sortof gorgo in the rock, between Mount Zion and the hillnorth of it. On both hills the rows of houses come tothe edge of the ravine and there terminate. From thenorth side of this ravine we have a semicircular hill-side,surrounding this basin in which we stand. The lowerpart of the ridge is where the Damascus gate now is, butthis is not so low as to break the continuity of the hill,which sweeps in a semicircle around the north-westcorner of the temple area, and falls off as it approachesthat area on the north.This moon-shaped hill, sloping everywhere in towardthe basin, I suppose to be Akra.The end of the moon nearest the north part of thetemple area and the tower of Antonia, possibly by reasonof some slight depression intercepting the continuity ofthe ridge, or perhaps all that portion of the moon eastof the Damascus gate, where the depression was perceptible, and on which, not long prior to the time ofJosephus, the new city was extending, had gotten to becalled the new city, in distinction from the older partswhich lay otherwise around the moon, although all theseparts were called New City, in contrast with Zion theold city of David. Hence Bezetha, " new city," wasthe name given to that part of Akra which lay nextthe fortress Antonia north ofthe temple.And now to the evidence of this. Josephus says:*"The city was built upon two hills which are opposite

• B J. v. 4, 1.

AKRA AND BEZETHA. 263to one another, and have a valley to divide them asunder,at which valley the corresponding rows of houses onboth hills end. Of these hills, that which contains theupper city is much higher, and in length more direct,accordingly it was called the citadel by King David.

• But the other hill, which was called Akra, and

sustains the lower city, is shaped like the horned moon(curved on both sides) . Over against this was a thirdbill, but naturally lower than Akra, and parted formerlyfrom the other by a broad valley. However, in thosetimes when the Asmoneans reigned they filled up thatvalley with earth, and had a mind to join the city tothe temple. They then took off part of the height ofAkra, and reduced it to be of less elevation than it wasbefore, that the temple might be superior to it. Nowthe valley of the Cheesemongers (Tyropoon) as it wascalled, and was that which we told you before distinguished the hill of the upper city from that of thelower, extended as far as Siloam. * But on theoutside these hills are surrounded by deep valleys, andby reason of the precipices to them belonging, on bothsides they are everywhere impassable. "I have taken Whiston's translation with some slightalterations, but as yet no translation of Josephus is sufficiently accurate for the purposes of this discussion, andI give this but for the general idea, reserving for anotherplace some changes in this reading.The points which we derive from this passage arethese.1. Akra was divided from Zion by a valley, in which,for some reason, houses were not built.2. That the form of Akra was duoikuproc, a word susceptible of various translations, but which is generallyrendered " moon- shaped." Dr. Robinson translates it"gibbous. "264 AKRA AND BEZETHA.We are not left in doubt as to the precise meaningof this word which I shall translate " moon-shaped;"another extract from Josephus will sufficiently settle it.Speaking of the western site of the temple area, andthe gates therefrom, Josephus says that one led "intothe other city, being distinguished (or intercepted) bymany steps down into the chasm (or gulf) , and from thisup again upon the entrance way (ascent according toRobinson) . For the city lay over against the templo inthe manner of a theatre, being held up around by adeep gulf as to all its southern slope."From this it appears very certain that the shapeof Akra was that of a new moon, like an ancient theatresurrounding a deep gulf or valley, and I apprehendno possible location can be given to it to answer thedescription of Josephus other than this.The chief and only objection to the idea is that foundin the location of Bezetha as described by Josephus.This description is not given in the course of, or inconnection with, the description of the hills on which thecity was built. On the contrary, that description isgeneral, and the statement is that the city was builtupon two hills, viz. , Akra and Zion. Subsequently, inspeaking of the walls of the city, and of the third wallespecially, he says (I use Dr. Robinson's translation):"This (third wall) Agrippa put around the new built city,which was quite naked. For the city, overflowing withthe multitude, had, by little and little, crept beyond thewalls, and uniting with itself the parts on the north ofthetemple at the hill, had advanced not a little; so that afourth hill, called Bezetha, was now dwelt around, lyingover against Antonia, and separated from it by a deepfosse. For a trench had here been cut through on purpose; lest the foundations of Antonia, being joined tothis hill, should be easily accessible, and less lofty. *

KRA AND BEZETHA. 265This new built part is called in our language Bezetha,which, being interpreted in the Greek tongue, would beCanopolis (New City). "And again:"This hill Bezetha was separated, as I said, from Antonia; and, being the highest of all, it was built up adjoining to a part of the new city, and alone overshadowedthe temple on the north."Akra was the general name of the whole hill, of whichBezetha became the name of a part, when the new citycame to be built on it, and the highest of all the hills untilcut down as hereafter described . Or, if this idea appear not allowable, we have the hill on the north of thetemple inclosure, which Robinson refers to when he saysthat the hill east of the Damascus gate " does not extendto the valley of Jehoshaphat, but there intervenes therocky ridge upon and along which the eastern wall isbuilt," and which is the hill more particularly separatedfrom Moriah by the fosse now called the Pool of BethWherever it was, it immediately adjoined thenorth wall of Antonia, except as separated by the trench,which I agree with Dr. Robinson was this deep place,now commonly called the Pool of Bethesda; but which Ihave no doubt was originally a broad and probably drytrench, but was more lately used as a pool, as indicatedby its cemented walls. It was not separated from Moriahby any valley. The trench was necessary to form aseparation. The statement of Josephus, that the Maccabees worked down the height of Akra, and made itlower, so that the temple might appear above it( EppaivoT ), is very important to the argument locating Akra.Elsewhere, he informs us that Antiochus built a citadel in the lower part of the city, on a hill that was soAnt. xii. 6, 4.12266 AKRA AND BEZETHA.high that it overlooked the temple, and afterward,* thatSimon destroyed the citadel, and " thought best to levelthe very hill itself on which the citadel stood, that so thetemple might be higher than it. " And he thereupon exhorted the people to do it, and they set to work andlabored, day and night, three whole years, before it wasremoved, and brought to a level with the plain of therest of the city.Now there is no possible point in the lower city whichcould so command the temple as this is described, exceptthe hill east of the Damascus gate, and north of Antonia.But what hill has been cut down? Certainly a work sogigantic can not have been done, and left no traces ofits results.If the hill west of the Damascus gate and north of Zionalone be Akra, then it is impossible that this statementcan be correct, for this reason, that, from the momentthat this hill commences to rise from the depth of thevalley between the hills, it never ceases to rise for a distance of eight miles, and the ridge, constantly ascending,sweeps around the north and west of the upper Pool ofGihon, toward the distant mountains of Ephraim, withouta break in its steady upward grade. There is thereforoof course no point where they could have worked it down,so that the temple might any better appear above it, noris there any object to be seen in giving such a view tothe westward, where, beyond the valley of Gihon, thehills all commanded a full view. Nor is there any remaining evidence of any such cutting down on any partof this hill, as there most certainly would be.But on the north the hill might well need cuttingdown, so as to give a view of the temple for miles up thesloping table-land, and here there is the complete evidence ofthe manner in which the work was done.

• Ant. xiii. 6, 7.

AKRA AND BEZETHA. 267I have already described the great excavation north ofthe north wall, and east of the Damascus gate. At whattime these quarries were commenced it is impossible tosay. I presume the quarrying was commenced as earlyas the time of Solomon. I think no geologist can lookcarefully at this spot-I might better say, no stone-cutteror man who has seen rock cuttings- without perceivingthat, at some period in their advance, it was for somereason decided to cut away the entire peak of the hill,which rises from the north of the temple and ascends tothe present wall, where it is now cut off abruptly, butwhence it once continued some hundred and fifty or twohundred feet further, and, having reached its culmination,again fell off to the north. This seems to me, withoutdoubt, the hill which was hewn down, and brought to thelevel of all the northern parts of Jerusalem.But I have yet another view of this matter to take.Dr. Robinson gives part of the passage from Josephus, asfollows:"Over-against this (Akra) was a third hill, by naturelower than Akra, and formerly separated by anotherbroad valley. But, afterwards, in the times when theMaccabees ruled, they threw earth into this valley, desiring to connect the city with the temple."This third hill was Mount Moriah, the hill of the temple.Now, it is clear, that there is no intimation that Akra wasseparated from Moriah by any valley. Even Dr. Robinson's peculiar method of translating the passage (whichgives us a sentence actually without meaning), is certainlyconclusive that the " other broad valley” did not separateAkra from Moriah. This translation, if it means anything, implies that Moriah itself was divided by anotherbroad valley. But the Greek is πλατεια φαραγγι διειργόμενος ἄλλῃ πρότερον, and the correct translation, Iapprehend, "formerly otherwise separated by a broad268 AKRA AND BEZETHA.valley," that is, from the other city. The sentence willthen read: " Over-against this was a third hill, by naturelower than Akra, and formerly otherwise separated (i. e.,from the other city, or Zion) by a broad valley. But,afterward, in the times when the Asmoneans ruled, theythrew earth into this valley, desiring to connect the citywith the temple."If, as I have supposed, Akra included the whole moonlike sweep of the hill from Zion to the fortress of Antonia, then Akra actually needed to be divided from thetemple by the trench, instead of being connected with itby filling up a valley. And we are left to look for such aheaping up (xow) across the valley of the Tyropoon below. We are at no loss to find it. The causeway acrossthis valley has long been a subject of discussion . Its existence is manifest enough to the eye, since it is impossibloto go down the Tyropœon valley without climbing over itas it crosses the valley about on a line with the north endof Zion.The sentence, then, has a distinct meaning and connection. The third hill, Moriah, was lower than Akra, whichactually sloped off to it on the north ofthe temple. Thiswas its relation to Akra. Otherwise, that is as regardsthe other great part of the city, Zion, it was separatedfrom it by a broad valley, which afterward the Maccabeesheaped up with a causeway, so that the approach to itfrom that city should be as nearly on a level, as it alreadywas from the new city. The result of this work is obvious. It connected the temple with Zion, as it was alreadyconnected with Akra, and thus it was possible to walkentirely around the central basin of the city on an unvarying level, crossing the Tyropoon and the trench ofAntonia by bridges.It follows, if we have correctly located Akra, that theTyropoon valley is, as we have already intimated, thatTHE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 269valley which cut off the north side of Zion, and on theopposite sides of whose ravine the precipitous cliffs ofZion and Akra arose. This valley came into the greatbasin in the heart of the city, and turning southward,under the north-eastern cliffs of Zion, continued down toSiloam, being then a broader valley, but retaining thesame name. The objection that this name would not correctly apply to the two valleys loses its force if we believethe crescent shape of Akra, which I have suggested, sincethere would then be no other valley coming intothe basinexcept this one, which continued by a uniform descenttoward Siloam, nor is it impossible that the salesmenwho gave it its name originally, carried on their businessin both parts of the valley, which would be a sufficientreason for the uniform name.III.THE HOLY SEPULCHRE.I have already stated that when I first visited theChurch of the Holy Sepulchre it was with a firm conviction that there was no reason whatever for regardingit as the veritable tomb of the Lord. On the contrary,my mind was strongly inclined to find some spot outsidethe city walls, in a basin, like that which is at the head ofthe valley of Jehoshaphat, where I could with some freedom of imagination locate the place of the suffering andthe burial. For it is remarkable, that the common ideathat Calvary was a hill has no authority from the sacredwritings, and my own preconceived notion had been, that,in pursuance of a custom not uncommon among the Romans, especially in the later persecutions, of torturing270 EVIDENCE OF THE FATHERS.criminals in the amphitheatres, some amphitheatrical placewould have been chosen for the uplifting of Christ.I was, therefore, not an impartial judge of the evidencefor the Holy Sepulchre, because I was, in fact, stronglydetermined against it, but diligent examination and studyled me to change my views, and to believe in the authenticity of the Sepulchre and Calvary.The only point at present in doubt about the IIolySepulchre relates to the evidence prior to the middle ofthe fourth century. It is agreed on all hands that thepresent site is that fixed on by Constantine, or his representatives, as early as the year 330. I should perhaps except from this statement one English writer, who, havingnever visited Jerusalem himself, has published some theories that are too absurd to require refutation, and wholocates the Sepulchre of the days of Constantine on thehill Moriah, under the Dome of the Rock! *What, then, was the evidence which satisfied Eusebius,Jerome, and the fathers of the Church?Certainly, the onus of this argument, in a case like this,appears to be all on the other side. Venerable fathers,three hundred years after the crucifixion , state the localities in phrases that show that at that period they werewell known and talked of universally, and he who doubtstheir testimony should prove it false. But is it probableor possible that in the days of Eusebius, less than threehundred years after the death of Christ, the localities ofhis life and death were forgotten?It is a brief space of time in which to obliterate suchmemories. Had events of even trivial importance occurred in the year 1550, we should have little hesitationin accepting a tradition which located them in particularspots. We do readily accept a hundred such. There is

• An " Essay on the Ancient Topography of Jerusalem, " etc., etc. London. 1847.

EARLY CHRISTIANS. 271no question of tradition about it. It is not to be calledtradition when, after a lapse of but three hundred years,Eusebius heard and recorded the stories of the HolyPlaces.The children, whom in his brief ministry Christ hadblessed, grew up among the scenes that he had sanctified,and when some of them were old men, old as we countyears now, without adding the long years of life that mensometimes lived then as now, they would, doubtless, pointout with abundant accuracy the spot most holy in theirmemories.It is not to be questioned that there were scoresof men living in the year 100, who saw the sunlightdarkened on the day of the crucifixion. Nor is it at allprobable that at this period any one of the localities mostlikely to be cherished was lost. Men in all ages are butmen, and there has been no country nor people on earth,since the days of Babel, where the heart of man has notdone homage to the localities of great events. He whosays that it is not probable that the early Christians caredfor these localities, makes the early Christians anythingbut human. On the contrary, the Bible abounds in evidences that the Jews retained, through all time, thelocalities of great events in their history, and heaps ofstone and memorial mounds stood for centuries as marksofsuch spots, where men paused to honor the memory ofthe great past. Even the most skeptical of travelers doesnot doubt the locality of Rachel's tomb, and the cave ofMachpelah!They who think thus, dishonor the very religion of theCross. It was no common event that men then had tokeep in memory. It was no royal pageant, no parting ofa river's flow to let an army pass, no death of a motherof a nation, no dream of a patriarch, no crowning of aking. It was the advent of the long-expected Messiah,272 SPREAD OF CHRISTIANITY.the King of kings, the Saviour ofIsrael. It was the death.by cruel hands on the cross of the Son of the Unbegotten,the offspring of the mighty God of Jacob. It is vergingclosely on scorn of him and his great name to supposethat within the century after his life on earth the placeswhich he hallowed by his presence were forgotten or un- known.In all the history of man no like history has been knownof the spread and triumph of a form of faith. Other religions have been propagated by the sword, and in centuries have made great advances, but the religion of thecrucified Nazarene in three centuries had conquered theworld, and emperors worshiped with faces toward Jerusalem. And yet it is argued that the locality of the suffering, the burial, and the ascension, the spot where manwas saved, the cross to which the sins of a world werenailed, and the grave from which its Saviour rose, wereforgotten either in one, two, or three generations, whilethe religion of the grave and the cross was thus conquering the world.An objection which some writers have advanced thatthe Christians were driven away from Jerusalem after itsfall, is without foundation in fact.In fact, the Jews were, for a time, expelled, but theChristians were not, nor is there any evidence that theywere not at all times in Jerusalem in great numbers.The notion that Jerusalem was absolutely razed to theground and a ploughshare run over its site is a very common error. Nothing ofthe kind occurred, nor does thereseem to be any foundation for the idea unless in a desireon the part of some to claim a far more extensive andliteral fulfillment of the propliecy of Christ than he himselfdesigned when he pointed to the temple and said thatbefore that generation had passed away it should be sodestroyed that not one stone should remain on another.DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM. 273Even ifliterally to be fulfilled, it had no reference to anypart of Jerusalem but the temple itself, and in that respect it has been sufficiently accomplished. But of thewalls and erections in and around the city many remainto this day in the position they occupied eighteen hundred and, perhaps, twenty-four hundred years ago, and Iseek in vain among all the accounts of the destruction ofJerusalem for any evidence that even the lines of streets,the ruins of houses after the fire, or the houses themselves were destroyed , nor is there any evidence in historyon which to affirm that the structures now pointed out asthe Arch of Judgment and the Arch of the Ecce hom*o,did not stand in the days of the Saviour, whatever otherevidence we may have on the subject.The expression of Josephus, that Titus commanded thecity to be demolished, by no means indicates a thoroughsweeping away of the stones themselves, or even a totaldestruction of the houses, nor is there any thing in thesubsequent history that leads us to suppose such a totaldemolition accomplished. Indeed, it is remarkable that apart of the city was especially exempted by Titus fromthat destruction which came on the rest, and by thismeans the towers of Phasaelus Hippicus and Mariamnewere left, and so much of the wall as inclosed the city onits west side, the wall being preserved for a shelter tothe Roman camp now established in the city, and thetowers as a memorial of its ancient grandeur and thepower ofthe conquerors. "The rest ofthe wall, " says Josephus, " was so entirely thrown down even with theground, by those that dug it up to the very foundations,that there was nothing to make those that came thitherbelieve it had ever been inhabited (or contained inhabitants). "Scarcely half a century after this " total destruction, "the Jews in revolt, under Bar-Kochebas, " the Son of a12*274 JERUSALEM AGAIN FORTIFIED.Star, " sustained a three years' siege in the same Jerusalem,successfully combatting the forces of Rome, a fact thatcertainly goes very far toward showing that the city wasin some measure restored to inhabitable order, and thewalls rebuilt on those sides where they had been throwndown to the ground.Again Jerusalem was destroyed, and the expressions ofJosephus are exceeded by Jerome, who says that it wasburned and destroyed so that it lost its very name.Nevertheless this destruction was not complete, inasmuch as Adrian, whose intention to rebuild the formercity as a garrison city has been, by some, stated as thecause of the revolt, did actually accomplish his intention,according to Eusebius, and, therefore, we have again thecity ofJerusalem on its ancient foundations. Nor am Iable in any of the accounts, brief and incomplete as theyare, to find any reason for doubting that the city wasrestored on its ancient lines, and that the streets and passages were preserved as before the first destruction . Certainly this would have been the easiest and most practicable plan as well as the most probable, and nothing wasdone in either destroying by which any of the localitieswere placed beyond the possibility of recognition. Therewas nothing in the former case to prevent the inhabitantsclaiming and taking possession of their own houses andlots, nor does it appear that they were in any mannerejected. Christians and Jews alike lived in the Holy Cityat all times prior to the second rebuilding. It is impossible then that any spot ofinterest in the history of Christcould have been forgotten.This brings us down to a time between A.D. 130 andA.D. 140. The revolt of Bar- Kochebas was finally crushedat Bether, near Jerusalem, in the eighteenth year of Adrian, corresponding to A.D. 135. It was at this time that,according to Jerome, an event occurred (about whichCHRISTIAN CHURCH. 275there is still much doubt as to whether it really didoccur), which has afforded the only foundation of thestory that Titus ran a ploughshare over the site of Jerusalem. Titus Annius Rufus, governor of Jerusalem underAdrian, is said to have run a ploughshare over the site ofthe temple; but this ceremony, for it was nothing else,needed not so much attention as has been given to it bywriters in later years. An ancient ploughshare, woodenblocks of the rudest construction, would do little towardsmoothing ruins; and the best modern American prairieplough, with eight or a thousand yoke of oxen, would dolittle practical work among piles of stone, each of whichwas twenty feet long by five and three in thickness, theaccumulated ruins of the great walls of Jerusalem. Theancient ceremony of running a ploughshare over a conquered city was a formality, signifying total subjection.The idea that it proves a total razing of walls to theground is incorrect, as any one knows who has seen ancient ruins.The Jews were now (A.D. 135) , expelled from the cityof their fathers, but the Christians remained; and thechurch of Jerusalem at this time elected Marcus thefirst Gentile bishop, doubtless from a willingness to showto the emperor that they were not Jews, though such hadbeen their reputation.From this time, for a hundred and fifty years, theChristian church remained in Jerusalem, and the Christian religion spread over the world. The star that hadrisen above Bethlehem had drawn the eyes of all the worldto its abundant light and glory. From being a despisedand hated sect, watching with earnest and sad devotion the sepulchre that had once entombed their Lord,and from which in their persecutions and agonies unnumbered they could sometimes scarcely believe he had arisento be in heaven their God and hope, they became the276 ADRIAN'S TEMPLE.teachers of kings and emperors, the very light of theworld. From that Golgotha, of which they well knewthe story, and whose locality it seems idle to suppose inthose few short years they could have lost, they beheld alight spreading over the world that was reflected from thesnowy summits of Caucasus, the white cliffs of Albion,and the far mountains of Atlas.There was no race of men known to the wise of Romethat did not hear the story of the Nazarene. There wasno name by which men called themselves that was notheard in the streets of Jerusalem within a space of timealmost too brief for us to believe sufficient for the historyof Calvary to have reached Abyssinia and England; andat length the mother of the Emperor of Rome, with allthe gorgeous attendance and pageantry that could surround the royalty of Constantine himself, came a pilgrimto the places which Rome had never before visited, except as the scourge of an avenging God.It seems to me that it matters very little, in view ofthis brief history, whether Adrian did or did not markthe supposed site of the Holy Sepulchre and of Calvarywith a temple of Venus. If he did, then there is ofcourse no reason to doubt that the locality was preservedperfectly; for we have already said enough to show thatin the time of Adrian it could not have been mis- located.IIe would have selected the right place beyond a peradventure. If he did not, it is by no means credible thatGolgotha or its adjacent garden was forgotten by thechurch of Jerusalem. Had the Saviour remained in thegrave, his followers (for they did not then appreciate orexpect the resurrection) , would never have forgotten thatgrave; and so long as the name of Christian remained inJerusalem the spot, though deep down under the rubbishof a fallen city, though rifled of its sacred contents, andno longer containing his precious dust, would have beenPRESERVATION OF HISTORY . 277visited with tears of devotion. Has it never occurred tomen that there were children of Lazarus to bear in memory from generation to generation the story ofhis tomb;children of the widow's son of Nain, of Martha andMary, of the cleansed leper, of the blind who saw, ofthe hundreds who had personal and family reasons for remembering the burial- place of a great benefactor? Thetomb of Joseph at Shechem, of the patriarch at Hebron,of Rachel, close to the wall of Jerusalem, were kept inhonored remembrance. How much more likely was itthat for a few years the memory of the tomb that held agreater than Solomon for two nights, and then gave himforth to the resurrection of all the dead, should be preserved.More than all is it incredible that the Christians ofJerusalem could read the evangelists, Matthew, Mark,Luke, and John, in their meetings and their families.daily in Jerusalem, and not understand perfectly wherecach little incident occurred, and, above all, where thogreat events that ended the mission and the work thatChrist finished. It is on this very account that Eusebiusand Jerome do not speak of any tradition as guiding thesearch made by order of Constantine. There was notradition about it. The places were so well known thatno one thought of calling it tradition at all.So much seems to me certain, without resorting to whatcan not be doubted, the idea that in the early Christiantimes, as in all other times, there were a thousand papers,notes ofjournal-keeping men, family manuscripts, old letters, and like records of events of daily occurrence, towhich, had it been necessary to seck them, those desirousof finding the sepulchre would have had abundant access,and which on the other hand would have been voluminous evidence against the selection of a wrong locality.These were not such papers as a later writer would refer278 ADRIAN'S TEMPLE .to, except as Eusebius does in the phrase ἐξ ἐγγράφων, butto deny their existence, is asserting a remarkable state ofsociety and affairs in Jerusalem, where it can hardly bedoubted were always many very learned men, Jews andChristians, who were students, scholars, critics, theologians and historians.But the fact remains undisturbed that in the days ofEusebius the site of the sepulchre was marked by aheathen temple, placed there for the purpose of devotingthe place to heathen religion , if thereby the faith in thearisen Christ might be shaken.This simple fact, which is of conclusive force in the argument, is attacked in various ways, but the substance ofall the attacks goes only to the question of evidence ofthe date of the crection of this temple. No one disputesthat Helena found it there. The date of its erection, bylater writers unhesitatingly attributed to Adrian, is ofless importance than the fact that this shows us that thelocality was in no respects a doubtful one. This spot wasknown by Pagan, Jew, and Christian, as the spot wherethe Christians' great founder had been buried.In the face of this fact it is impossible to deny that thelocality must have been one often spoken of in the previous years, one about which vast interest was felt, andthat the early Christians did think of and cherish suchplaces.But there is another view of the subject. We arefully authorized, in a case like this, to yield our belief to afact found by good judges, though we are ignorant oftheevidence.Is it probable, or possible, that men, like Eusebius andJerome, would lend themselves to a trumpery plot, suchas some writers have attributed to the bishop of Jerusalem, to get up an interest in the Holy City, and increasethe importance of that see? The very notion is absurd,EUSEBIUS AND JEROME. 279and may be repelled without argument. Attributing suchmotives betrays either a want of appreciation of the spiritof the age, or a recklessness of statement of character.Could they have been themselves deceived? Let ussee who they werc.They lived in no dark age. The fourth century waslong before the gloom of the dark ages. It was a timeof religious and classical learning unsurpassed in the history of the church. It was the age when Christianity,from being a despised creed, had become the religion ofRome and the world. Aneminently light and brilliant age.Dr. Robinson's judgment of Eusebius and Jerome issufficiently satisfactory: " The one a leading bishop andhistorian, the other a scholar and translator of the Scriptures." And (speaking of their judgment concerningEmmaus) he says, "This was not the voice of mere tradition; but the well- considered judgment of men of learning and critical skill, resident in the country, acquaintedwith the places in question, and occupied in investigatingand describing the Scripture , topography of the HolyLand. "*It is worthy of consideration whether the judgment ofsuch men at the time they lived, is not worth more thanall our theories at this remote day. It is quite idle forus to attempt to prove that they were mistaken. Whenthe walls and ruins of the Jerusalem of Christ's day werelying around them, is it reasonable to suppose that theywould select a place within the walls of the city as thelocality of an event that occurred without the gates, andstultify themselves in the eyes of hundreds of thousandsofJews, pagans, and infidels, who would have laughed atthem with sharp glee?And it is very certain that in the fourth century, however difficult it might have been to establish the factBiblical Researches, vol. iii. , edition of 1856, p. 148.280 CONCLUSIONS.that this was the location, it would not have been at alldifficult to prove that it was not, if the arguments nowin use are valid. There would have been no difficulty atthat time in proving that the spot lay within the line ofthe second wall, whose ruins themselves would remain toshow it, while the walls and towers of Zion which Tituspreserved would have afforded abundant evidence of itsstarting-point.These points, then, appear to me sufficient evidence onwhich to rest my faith in the authenticity of the HolySepulchre:1. It is not credible that this locality was forgotten byChristians within three hundred years after the greatevents ofthe crucifixion, burial, and resurrection.2. Critical scholars and learned men, employed in investigating the topography of the Holy Land, had nodoubt of its authenticity in the beginning of the fourthcentury.3. No one, so far as we know, thought in that age ofdisputing the fact, but all men acknowledged its truth.4. It is not doubted by any one that this is the localityin which those learned men' placed their confidence, ithaving been well preserved from that time to this.This is, I say, sufficient, without those additional considerations which I shall hereafter present.But of course these grounds of faith may be undermined. It is not pretended that they sustain a certainty.He who would overcome the argument, may do it intwo ways:1. By proving that this is not the locality, from someevidence therewith connected.2. By proving that some other place is the locality, andthereby establishing a sort of alibi.The second proposition it will not be necessary to consider, since no one can maintain it.DR. ROBINSON'S ARGUMENTS. 281The first is held by many persons, of late years, withwhat success I now propose to examine.Dr. Robinson, in his Biblical Researches, published in1841 , and republished with extensive additions in 1856,has taken the position, to which his learning and abilityfully entitle him, of the leader in maintaining the proposition that the Holy Sepulchre is not on the locality ofthesepulchre occupied by Christ, and in his elaborate workswe shall find all that can possibly be said to this effect.In proceeding then to notice, and if I may be able, toexpose the errors of his reasoning and the mistakes of hisobservations, I desire first to express my own obligation,in common with that of all travelers to Holy Land, forhis profound and invaluable volumes. They are the onlyextant guide-book in Syria, excepting the Bible, and hehas brought to their preparation an amount of eruditionand scholarship which no one hereafter can hope to excel . Away from Jerusalem, and its immediate neighborhood, in all parts of Syria, the traveler may, with one ortwo small exceptions, place implicit confidence in the results of his reasoning.But I have already stated that I saw reason to differfrom his views of the Holy Sepulchre after personal examination, and as the arguments on the question arechiefly topographical, I felt no diffidence in so doing, since.one pair of eyes is quite as likely to see well as another.Dr. Robinson's line of argument is twofold. He contends that there is no evidence of any tradition at thetime of Eusebius locating the Holy Sepulchre, an argument which is quite conclusively disposed of by the admission of the fact, that there was no tradition about aspot which every one knew; and he attacks with greatspirit all attempts to show that Eusebius and Macariushad any evidence of the locality whatever.But his main argument, and one which, if correct, is282 AN ERRONEOUS ARGUMENT.conclusive, is founded on an attempt to show, by the topography of Jerusalem, that the present locality of theHoly Sepulchre actually lies within the walls of the ancient Jerusalem, as existing at that time, and thereforecan not by any possibility be near the place where Christwas crucified, " without the gates. "Before passing to this second and more important portion of the doctor's theory, I refer briefly to a weak andinconclusive style of argument which is a favorite withhim, and which he derives from the familiar law maxim,"Falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus. " But this proverb,which is very true in the use of the word false, has noforce or truth when we substitute mistaken or erroneous.Thus he argues that Jerome was wrong in stating that anidol had stood on the site ofthe Sepulchre from the timeof Adrian, and arrives at a conclusion in this way. Hesays: "Eusebius and the other historians speak only ofa temple of Venus over the Sepulchre. Jerome, on theother hand, places the marble statue of Venus on the' Rock of the Cross, ' or Golgotha, and an image of Jupiter on the place of the Resurrection. Here the Latinfather is probably wrong, for Eusebius was an eye witness; and the former is therefore equally liable to havebeen wrong in ascribing these idols to Adrian ," a conclusion of which it is somewhat difficult to appreciate thesequitur.I hardly need remind the reader that these are "themen of learning and critical skill, resident in the country," before spoken ofBy a similar error of reasoning, the learned doctor overthrows, to his own satisfaction, the value of a tradition infavor of the Sepulchre, supposing one to exist. For itsvalue, he says, " we have a decisive test; in applyingthe same reasoning to another tradition of precisely thesame character and import." And he then proceeds toDR. ROBINSON'S ARGUMENT . 283show that the tradition of the place of the Ascension onthe Mount of Olives could not be true. My remarks onthat point will enable the reader to judge how satisfactoryhis conclusions are. He then goes on to overthrow thetradition concerning the Grotto of the Nativity at Bethlehem (of which part of his argument I have spoken atBethlehem). Then, supposing it established that boththese traditions can have no , foundation in truth, heargues, that " on this ground, as well as on all others,the alleged site of the Holy Sepulchre is found to bewithout support. "*Certainly, as a mere matter of reasoning, nothing canbe plainer than that if all the Holy Places, with one exception, were proved to be wrongly located, this wouldhave no value in an argument concerning this one.I pass directly to the topographical argument of Dr.Robinson, which is mostly contained in the following extracts.The first of these extracts (Biblical Researches, vol. i.,p. 461 , etc.) is as follows:"Josephus' description of the second wall is very shortand unsatisfactory. It began at the gate called Gennathin the first wall, and encircling only the tract lying north,extended to Antonia. This gate called Gennath in thefirst wall, doubtless was near the tower of Hippicus, andwas probably not included within the second wall, in order to allow a direct passage between the upper city andthe country. The two extremities of this wall are therefore given, but its course between these points is a matterof some difficulty to determine."Did this wall perhaps run from its beginning, nearthe tower of Hippicus, on a straight course to thefortress Antonia? This question I feel compelled to answer in the negative for several reasons. First, the ex-

• Biblical Researches, vol. ii. , p. 76, etc.

284 DR. ROBINSON'S ARGUMENT.press language of Josephus, that it took a circular course;secondly, the Pool of Hezekiah, which is of high antiquity, and lay within the ancient city, must then havebeen excluded; thirdly, the whole space included in thelower city would in this way have been reduced to asmall triangle of about 600 yards on the south side, andsome 400 yards on the east side; and lastly, this wallbuilt for the defence of this part of the city, would thushave passed obliquely across the very point of the hillAkra, and have been overlooked and commanded on thewest by every other part of the hill. "The second extract (Biblical Researches, vol. ii. , p. 67,etc. ) is as follows:" But as the third or exterior wall of that writer (Josephus) was not erected until ten or twelve years after thedeath of Christ, it can not here be taken into account;and the question still arises, whether the present site ofthe Sepulchre may not have fallen without the second orinterior wall; in which case all the conditions of the general question would be satisfied."This second wall, as we have seen, began at the gateof Gennath, near the tower of Hippicus, and ran to thefortress Antonia, on the north of the temple. Of thedate of its erection we are nowhere informed; but itmust probably have been older than the time of Hezekiah, who built within the city a pool, apparently thesame which now exists under his name. We have thenthree points for determining the probable course of thiswall; besides the general language of Josephus and thenature of the ground. We repaired personally to eachof these three points, in order to examine there this veryquestion; and the first measurement I took in Jerusalemwas the distance from the western side of the area of thetemple, or great mosk, to the Church of the Holy Sepul- chre. I measured from the western entrance of that areaDR . ROBINSON'S ARGUMENT. 285on a direct course along the street by the Hospital ofHelena, to the street leading north from the bazaar; andthen from this street to a point in front of the great entrance of the church. The whole distance proved to be1,223 feet, or about 407 yards; which is 33 yards lessthan a quarter of an English mile."On viewing the city from the remains of the ancientHippicus, as well as from the site of Antonia, we weresatisfied, that if the second wall might be supposed tohave run in a straight line beween those points, it wouldhave left the Church of the Holy Sepulchre without thecity; and thus far have settled the topographical part ofthe question. But it was not less casy to perceive, thatin thus running in a straight course, the wall must alsohave left the Pool of Hezekiah on the outside; or if itmade a curve sufficient to include this pool, it would naturally also have included the site of the Sepulchre, unlessit made an angle expressly in order to exclude the latter.spot. And further, as we have seen, Josephus distinctlytestifies that the second wall ran in a circle or curve, obviously toward the north. Various other circ*mstances,also, which go to support the same view, such as the nature of the ground and the ancient towers at the Damascus gate, have already been enumerated . Adjacent tothe wall on the north there was a space of level ground,on which Antiochus could erect his hundred towers. Allthis goes to show that the second wall must have extended further to the north than the site of the presentchurch.“ Or, again, if we admit that this wall ran in a straightcourse, then the whole of the lower city must have beenconfined to a small triangle; and its breadth, betweenthe temple and the site of the sepulchre, a space of lessthan a quarter of an English mile, was not equal to thatof many squares in London and New York. Yet we286 DR. ROBINSON'S ARGUMENT.know that this lower city, at the time of the crucifixion,was extensive and populous; three gates led from it tothe temple; and, ten years later, Agrippa erected thethird wall far beyond the limits of the present city, inorder to shelter the extensive suburbs which before wereunprotected. These suburbs could not well have arisenwithin the short interval of ten years, but must alreadyhave existed before the time of our Lord's crucifixion."After examining all these circ*mstances repeatedlyupon the spot, and, as I hope, without prejudice, theminds of both my companion and myself were forced tothe conviction, that the hypothesis which makes thesecond wall so run as to exclude the alleged site of theHoly Sepulchre, is, on topographical grounds, untenableand impossible. If there was prejudice upon my ownmind, it was certainly in favor of an opposite result; for Iwent to Jerusalem strongly prepossessed with the ideathat the alleged site might have lain without the secondwall."But, even if such a view could be admitted, the existence of populous suburbs on this part is strongly atvariance with the probability that here should have beena place of execution, with a garden and sepulchre. Thetombs ofthe ancients were not usually within their cities,nor among their habitations, and, excepting those of thekings on Zion, there is no evidence that sepulchres existed in Jerusalem."From these extracts the reader will perceive that thetopographical argument of Dr. Robinson depends on thesituation of the gate Gennath, and the direction of thesecond wall of Jerusalem. In the time of Josephus therewere three walls; the first being the old wall, inclosingonly Zion proper, and Moriah." The second wall had its beginning from the gatewhich was called Gennath, being of the first wall, and,THE SECOND WALL. 287surrounding the northern slope only, reached unto Antonia. " (Jos. , B. J. 5, 4, 2.)The third wall began at the tower Hippicus, and ex--tended quite around the northern part of the city, including a large space; but, as this was built by Agrippa afterChrist's death, it is of no importance in the argument.All parties are agreed upon certain points in the topography of Jerusalem, among which the location of thetower Hippicus is one. This was on the north wall ofZion, and is doubtless marked very nearly by the moderncastle of David. The position of the tower Antonia isalso in general agreed upon. It occupied the northern.part of the temple area, which must have been nearlyidentical with the present area of the great mosk.The second wall, therefore, ran from a point in thenorth wall of Zion, to a point in the north wall of thetemple area. Did it include, or did it exclude, the present site ofthe Sepulchre? The reader will have no difficulty in fixing these points perfectly in his mind, byreferring to the bird's- eye view of Jerusalem in thisvolume. The high minaret in the north-west corner ofthe mosk area marks the site of Antonia, and the citadel,with a flag over it, is the tower Hippicus.The reader will have already perceived, from the remarks of Dr. Robinson, that the difference in the line inthe two cases would be little, if any, more than the lengthof the Church ofthe Resurrection, say four hundred feet.But Dr. Robinson, with singular illiberality, confines usto one of two lines, either his line including the Sepulchre,or a straight line from point to point. It would be supposed that no possible other line could be devised. ButI have yet to see the writer on this subject who hascontended for a straight line wall, or supposed it necessary.The great difference between Dr. Robinson and the288 THE POOL OF HEZEKIAH.believers in the Holy Sepulchre, consists in the location.of the gate Gennath, and the commencement of thesecond wall. If it be three hundred feet eastward of thepoint at which he locates it, then no one can doubt thatthe Sepulchre was excluded; and this is, in effect, thepoint of the whole argument.But in the first place, let us for the moment admit Dr.Robinson's location of the gate Gennath, and see if hisreasonings from it are correct, and whether there is anything in that location, or elsewhere, which requires that awall commencing there and running in a curve to thenorth side of the temple should include the present siteof the Sepulchre.It will be perceived that his argument in regard to thedirection of the second wall is, that if it ran so as to exclude the site of the Church of the IIoly Sepulchre, itmust also have excluded the Pool of Hezekiah, " which,"he says, " is of high antiquity, and lay within the ancientcity." In fact, this is the whole of his argument.For the evidence that this pool was within the ancientcity, we look elsewhere in his work and find it as follows:"We are told of King Hezekiah that he made a pooland a conduit and brought water into the city,' and alsothat he stopped the upper water- course of Gihon andbrought it straight down to the west side of the cityof David. From this language we can only infer thatHezekiah constructed a pool within the city on its western part. "*This is Dr. Robinson's entire argument to show thatthe Pool of Hezekiah was within the city walls, a conclusion by no means justified by the words of the Scripture account. But who can fail to be astonished at thenext sentence of Dr. Robinson's remarks? " To such a

• Biblical Researches, vol. i. p. 488.

THE POOL OF HEZEKIAH. 280pool the present reservoir, which is doubtless an ancientwork, entirely corresponds," when I remind the reader.that the present reservoir is situated on the slope ofwhat Dr. Robinson believes to be the Akra of Josephus,due north of the " city of David," and far north of anypoint in it, where no possible form of imagination couldlocate it as on, near, or related to the west side ofthe cityof David, and where it must have been separated fromthat part of the city bythe deep valley which Dr. Robinsoncalls the Tyropoon, and which was under the precipiceon the north side of Zion.In fact, no language can be used which would definethis reservoir, or its locality, by any reference to the westside of Zion. It is hardly necessary for me to remind thereader that the " city of David" always means the citadelcity, or Mount Zion, as distinct from the rest of Jerusalem, and it is a matter of astonishment to me that Dr.Robinson should not have remembered that his very argument, which located the second wall outside of thispool, necessarily proves that the pool was north and eastof the north-west corner of the city of David, which wasthe tower of Hippicus.But I am unable to see any necessity for locating anypool made by Hezekiah within the city. The passage inthe second of Kings, xx. 20, which states that he broughtwater into the city (or waters, as I suspect the originalhas it, for although I have totally forgotten what littleHebrew I once knew, I find that the Latin translationshave the word aquas) , has not necessarily any connectionwith that in second Chronicles xxxii. 30, where it is statedthat he "stopped the upper water-course of Gihon andbrought it straight down to the west side of the city ofDavid." This latter passage is much more likely to referto the lower pool ofGihon, which is on the west side ofthecity of David, and which may have been improved and in13290 THE POOL OF HEZEKIAH.creased by straightening the water flow, which was crooked, or possibly swampy, and by stopping up and gatheringin a reservoir the springs at the upper Pool of Gihon,which formerly flowed across to the valley of Jehoshaphat.Especially does this seem likely when taken in connection with a passage in Isaiah xxii. 9, referring to the lowerpool, and recited, if not addressed, to Hezekiah. “ Yehave seen also the breaches of the city of David, thatthey are many, and ye gathered together the waters ofthe lower pool;" and the 11th verse, " Ye made also aditch between the two walls for the water of the oldpool, but ye have not looked unto the maker thereof,neither had respect unto him that fashioned it long ago;"the first verse quoted manifestly implying that Hezekiahconstructed, or improved the lower pool, and the secondthat he made another aqueduct, or repaired an ancientone, not connected with either pool, but between the twowalls; an expression referring, doubtless, to the valley ofthe Tyropoon between the east wall of Zion and thewest wall of Moriah, and probably to the pool which isreferred to in Nehemiah, iii. 16, which was the limit towhich Nehemiah worked in repairing the wall afterShallum, who, in the previous verse, is said to have repaired by the Pool of Siloah, and unto " the stairs thatgo down from the city of David. " After him Nehemiahrepaired " unto over against the sepulchre of David andto the pool that was made. " This must imply that Nehemiah repaired the wall on the west side of Moriah, oppositethe cast side of Zion, and that the pool was betweenthe two.It is probable, therefore, that Hezekiah constructedother aqueducts than the one on the west side of the cityof David, and this is made perfectly certain by the passagein Ben Sirach, xlviii. 17, where it is stated that " Hezekiahmade his city strong, and conveyed water into the midstTHE POOL OF HEZEKIAH. 291thereof; he digged through the rock with iron, and madefountains for waters."It appears, therefore, quite clear that there is noscriptural evidence of the antiquity of the Birket-elHamman, or Pool of Hezekiah, and there is certainlynothing in Josephus or the early Christian writers whichwill make it necessary for us to regard it as of their date.On the contrary, the only mention of a pool in thisdirection, by Josephus, appears to intimate the existenceofa pool or other supply of water outside the walls, nearthis spot, for he speaks of a pool, Amygdalon, hereabouts, not locating it, and of a gate in the wall of theupper city, Zion, which was used to bring in water tothe tower of Hippicus. This gate Dr. Robinson supposes to be identical with the gate Gennath, which wasthe point of commencement of the second wall, thoughhe locates the pool Amygdalon within that second wall,of course without proof of each location. It seems morelikely that the gato opened to this pool, as the nearestreservoir to the towers, and if the gate were identicalwith Gennath, then, doubtless, the pool was outsidethe second wall. The result of this argument, thus far, isonly to overthrow the idea of Dr. Robinson that theBirket- el-Hamman, or Pool of Hezekiah, was necessarilywithin the ancient walls. It may have been or it maynot have been. Enough that the chief, I might wellsay the only, argument, showing the line of the secondwall to be outside the locality of the Holy Sepulchre isthus disposed ofas without weight.It will be observed that Dr. Robinson is very strenuous in maintaining the necessity of a circular line in thesecond wall, based on Josephus's use ofthe word KUKλovμevov, which he translates " encircling. " This is perhapsof little importance, since it, in fact, no more implies acircular line than does the word surrounding in English.292 THE GATE GENNATH .Each has a common meaning applicable to a circle,square, parallelogram , or an irregular figure. A curvedline it probably was, but, like all city walls, it was likelyto have frequent breaks and angles. The exact phraseused by Josephus may help us materially: " KUKλоÚμεVOVdè то прооáρктIOV Kλípa," which Dr. Robinson translates"encircling only the tract on the north."66The word xhipa literally and usually signifies slope,being derived from Kλívw, meaning to bend, or, to useour word derived from it, to incline.Now let the reader bear in mind my description ofthehill Akra-or rather the description of Josephus, whichmade it a theatre, surrounding the basin at the northwest corner of the temple area, and sloping down to thison all sides. He will then perceive that the idea of thiswall encircling the slope to the north of Zion, or the entire slope of Akra, distinctly defines the wall, as well asmaterially confirms my idea of the shape of Akra.We have thus far argued on the admission of Dr.Robinson's location of the gate Gennath. We nowproceed to show that he is in error in that location.Dr. Robinson says: "It must have been on the east ofHippicus, for the third wall began at that tower. Itcould not however have been far distant, because thatpart of Zion was then high and steep."The only point to be settled is, therefore, how near toHippicus it was, and this is, as I have said, all the difference between Dr. Robinson and the believers in theHoly Sepulchre. He locates it very near to Hippicus,they at various distances eastward.Reason on this as we will, there can be no certaintyarrived at with our present knowledge: we can, at best,reach probabilities. First of all, if the location of thegate to the eastward of Hippicus, some three or fivehundred feet, be necessary to the exclusion of the ChurchNORTH WALL OF ZION. 293of the Sepulchre, there is evidence that it must havebeen so (and this is no petitio principii) in the probability that the time of Constantine afforded much betterproofs of the line of the walls than we can ever expect toarrive at.On this point none of the early writers appear to havethought it necessary to remark, doubtless from a conviction that no one could imagine Eusebius and Macarius, Helena and her illustrious advisers, so very ignorantas to select a spot within the ancient wall of the city,whose ruins, if not its actual stones in their places, mustthen have been very manifest.The first and only carly writer that I find speaking of itis Saint Willibald, the English pilgrim, in the eighth century (A.D. 765) , who says that this church was formerlyoutside the city, but was brought into it by Helena." Et hæc fuit prius extra Hierusalem. Sed beata Helena,quando invenit, collocavit illum locum intus intra Hierusalem. "*It is quite evident that the scoffers of the early agesnever discovered what it is now attempted to prove,though if true it must have been very plain then . Butpassing that, let us see what other evidence we have.Josephus tells us that the north wall of Zion was precipitous. We have already spoken of the valley of theTyropoon as lying between it and Akra. This valley Isuppose was deep and narrow. The sides were perhapsprecipitous rocks. Josephus describes the rows of houses.on both hills as ending at the valley's edge.But the ravine of the valley must not be mistaken asthat of a stream . The valley of the Kedron implies thevalley through which that stream runs, sloping one wayalways. But the valley of the Cheesemakers was onewhich opened on the one side (the west), to the valley of

• S. Willibaldi, Hod. , sec. viii.

294 TOWERS OF ZION.Gihon, or Ben Hinnom, and on the other (the east), to alarge basin in the heart of the city, and thence down toward Siloam. It can hardly be otherwise, therefore, thanthat this valley or ravine sloped both ways. It is notprobable that its water shed was all to the eastward fromthe very brow of the valley of Ben Hinnom. On the contrary, that it was deep there is evident from the description of the tower IIippicus, and the adjacent towers, allwhich were on a high hill.The tower Hippicus stood on the north-west brow ofZion, overlooking the valley Ben Hinnom as to its westside, and the Tyropoon valley as to its north side. Twoother towers stood near it, known as Phasaelus andMariamne, names which Herod gave to them. Thesewere all in the north wall of Zion, and were all built on ahigh hill; such is the express statement of Josephus.(B. J. v. 4.)Hippicus was twenty-five cubits broad, Phasaelus forty,and Mariamne twenty. As they did not join each other,but were separate and distinct towers, although near eachother, it is fair to estimate a distance between them equalto their several sizes, which gives us a hundred and seventy cubits of the north wall of Zion as on a high hill.This distance, therefore, I feel well assured, the slope ofthe Tyropoon was toward the westward; and somewhereto the eastward of this point must have been the gateGennath, which certainly did not open on the brow ofthehill. This seems conclusive against Dr. Robinson's location ofGennath.Be it noticed in passing that Titus did not overthrowthese towers, but allowed them to stand as marks of themighty power he had conquered. It is not probable thattwo hundred and thirty or fifty years had removed alltraces ofthem, or that in Constantine's day there was anydoubt about their location.LOCATION OF GENNATH. 295Nor is it probable that the gate Gennath was betweentwo ofthese towers, as Dr. Robinson appears to suppose,although he does not say so distinctly; for doubtless Josephus would then have stated that the commencement ofthe second wall was from such a tower, as he does of thethird wall, which began at the tower Hippicus; nor, ifthe gate was between two towers, would it be likely thathe would call it a gate of the old wall. He would rathercall it a gate of the palace, into which it must haveopened, since that lay behind the citadel, or of the citadelitself, which evidently included the three towers.The name of the gate Gennath, signifying gardens,has been frequently mentioned, but no one has appearedto observe the interesting fact, however slight may seemits importance in this argument, that this gate opened toward that garden in which we suppose the Saviour founda tomb. It shows this at least, that on this part of thewestern side of the city there were gardens.The weight of evidence is, decidedly, that the gateGennath was not near the tower Hippicus, but, being located at that point where the descent from Zion into thevalley was least, must have been to the eastward of thethree towers, and quite as far east as the present site ofCalvary. This being the case, it is very evident that thatsite, as well as the Holy Sepulchre, are outside the wallsof the ancient city, supposing the wall to have runnorthward to the site of the modern Damascus gate,which is the line on which I believe all are agreed.Avery trivial objection is founded on the narrownessof the city thus caused, which the objectors are pleasedto measure from the interior wall of the temple inclosureinstead of its exterior. The city, or rather the walledpart of the city, was of very uniform breadth from itsnorthern to its southern extremity, ifthis line be correct,the general line being from the south-west to the north-296 POOL AMYGDALON.east. Outside these walls was a large growing city,which in later times was walled in by Agrippa. Thesecond wall was but a small sweep, inclosing the slopingsides of the basin of Akra, within which houses had beenbuilt. Even this wall had not been necessary in the longhistory of the glory of Jerusalem, which had been contented with the citadel of Zion, and the inclosed templearea, and the hollow between them, which alone werewalled during all the times ofthe kings.Dr. Robinson's remaining topographical argument isbased on Josephus's description of the final taking ofZion by Titus, after he had taken the second wall;and he supposes the Pool Amygdalon where the tenthlegion built their offensive mounds against Zion to beidentical with the Birket-el-IIammam. It may have beenso, although its distance from the north side of Zion isvery great, almost too great to admit of the possibilityof its being so regarded. But there is nothing in the account of Josephus to lead to any conclusion that it waswithin or without the second wall.The argument that the attack on Zion had been delayedtill the second wall was taken has no force in showingthat its capture was necessary to that attack; becausethe fact appears distinctly, that the final taking of Zionwas not by this attack on the north. Dr. Robinson errsin stating this, which he does by way of proving that theground must have been less high at the north-west cornerof Zion, and thus that the gate Gennath would be therelocated . He says (vol. iii. , new edition, page 215): " Hedivided his force against Antonia on the one hand, andthe north-western part of Zion on the other, over-againstthe royal palace. This wasobviously the most feasiblepoint of attack, in respect to the ground, notwithstanding the great strength of the three towers, Hippicus,Phasaelus, and Mariamne, by which it was defended .OLD ARCH. 297And here it was that the Romans, in consequence of apanic among the Jewish leaders, finally made their wayby a breach into the upper city. "The breach was not on the north side of Zion at all.Josephus expressly states that the Romans could neverhave taken the towers on the north side by their engines,and his description of the taking of the towers containsthe statement that their defenders were frightened awayby men who told them of a breach in the western walland the entrance of the Romans there. *Zion was impregnable on its north side, and remainedso in this last great struggle. So steep was all that partof it near the towers, that the engines could never havemade a breach in it.In this connection I may refer to a gateway of whichsome remains are visible, which has by some been supposed to be the gate Gennath itself, and by others agate in the second wall. It is one of the most curiousand interesting relics of antiquity in Jerusalem . It issituated on the side of a street, running south fromthe bazaars, not far from the north-east corner of MountZion.Dr. Robinson disposes of it in his own way as follows.I quote him for the sake of saying that, in this instance,either his prejudice leads him to be unfair, or his observation is seriously at fault."Hero is seen the crown of a small round arch,apparently ancient, fronting toward the west, and now rising only just above the ground. We endeavored to gainaccess to it from the rear, but without success. The stonesof the arch are small, rudely cut, and without any tracoof beveling. It may have belonged to a small gateway,perhaps in the wall of a dwelling or a court. It more resembles the rude entrance of an aqueduct or sewer. A

• B. J., ix. 8, 4.

13*298 OLD ARCH.glance only is needed at its appearance and position, toshow that it could never have had connection with anycity wall. So trivial, indeed, is the whole fragment,"etc., etc.The reader can not fail to observe the repetition of theword small. It is a small round arch; the stones aresmall. It can not be a city gate-it was the gate of ahouse or a court—and a small gateway, at that.the facts.NowforOf this arch seven stones, forming the entire arch remain above ground. The sides of the gateway are belowthe earth. The rear is a dye-shop, built up close. I gotinto it with a candle, but the stones were thickly plasteredover, and I could see nothing. But the arch was and is amassive structure, which would sufficiently impress anycandid observer.The stones of the arch differ in size. The first stone,which is entirely above ground, is five feet top, three anda half bottom, by five high-depth not less than five feet.The reader, by marking out this size before him will judgehow trivial the arch was. The next stone is a little larger,three inches broader; the next, the key-stone, is a little.smaller. The next is larger again, and the fifth is socrumbled that I could not measure its size. The arc ofthe interior of the arch is fifteen feet. Not a very smallarch for the small gateway of a house or a court! Theidea of its being the entrance to a sewer is trifling withtruth. There are four large stones remaining on thenorth side of the arch forming part of the strong wall inwhich it stood, but I do not intend here to attempt anyconjecture as to its origin. I am not prepared to consider it the gate Gennath, but it is not impossible thatit was a gateway in a tower ofthe second wall. It standsin a remarkable line with a ridge extending quite to theDamascus gate, in which some antiquarians have supOLD ARCH . 299posed that they recognized traces of the second wall.The Porta Judiciara stands parallel to and within a fewfeet of this line, and may have been the arch on the insideof a tower, of which the outside, twenty feet distant,opened outside the wall of the city, the line of the wallpassing between the two arches. This is the archwaythrough which, tradition has it, that Christ was led out tocrucifixion.As to the absence of beveling on the stones, it is tobe observed that Dr. Robinson has a sort of mania forbeveled stones. He regards them as almost unmistakableevidences of high antiquity, and seems to think no wallcan be old that is without them, a notion that fifteenminutes in Jerusalem ought to expel, since there are numerous walls of beveled stone of late Christian periods,and others of plain stone that antedate the fall of Jeru- .salem.This gateway is, perhaps, the most massive perfectarch, ancient or modern, in Jerusalem, and future excavations will, probably, connect it with some great structure, wall, or castle, of the days of Jewish glory. Shouldany traveler of less distinguished reputation for calm andcandid observation, describe it as Dr. Robinson has, itwould, very probably, be set down to want of fairness orinability to form a correct estimate.A statement is made by Dr. Robinson and others, calculated to throw discredit on the locality of the Sepulchre,that there was no evidence of any tombs having existed inthis region of Jerusalem, and that it is, therefore, notprobable that there was a sepulchre in a garden hereabouts.The location, by Josephus, of the monument of theHigh Priest John is just here-within a few rods, atmost, from the Sepulchre. But a very decided answer tothis statement is found in the inclosure of the Church of300 TOMBS NEAR CALVARY.the Resurrection, in the tombs known as those of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.In the western part of the church, just outside thegreat wall of the rotunda, at a distance of about fortyfeet from the tomb of Christ, is a low, dark vault in thesolid rock, within which are four open graves (cut in therock) and two closed. Two of these are niches, openingin the side of the crypt, and two are sunk in the floor.Of the antiquity of this crypt there is no reasonabledoubt. The impartial visitor can not enter it withoutfeeling the great force of the evidence thus afforded thathe is on a spot which was, of old, a place of graves, aplace which might, therefore, have well deserved itsname Golgotha.There is no evidence that there was ever a tomb hewnin the rock in or near Jerusalem since the time of Christ,but though this may have been, there is enough in theappearance of, at least, two of these niches, to convincethe visitor of their high antiquity.Dr. Robinson did not see these tombs on his first visitto Jerusalem . Indeed, it is much to be regretted that hedid not then examine the Holy Sepulchre at all. It is noreflection upon his judgment to say that the argumentsderived from the interior of the church and sepulchremight have had a weight in forming an opinion whenhis mind was as yet undetermined, which they would nothave on his second visit, when he came back to Jerusalemwith settled opinions. This is but human nature.On his last visit, examining them, he supposes thatthere is no reason for referring the tombs of Joseph andNicodemus even to so early an age as that of Constantine,and says, " This is obviously true in respect to the sarcophagi sunk in the floor . No other instance will be found,I think, of like excavations in the floor of a crypt. " (Vol.fii., new edition, page 181.)TOMBS AT GOLGOTHA. 301This statement is not founded on correct observation,as indeed he might have judged by comparison with hisown work, volume iii. , new edition, page 479, where he describes the tombs near the ancient Abilene, and particularlyone which Mr. Robson entered, having " four niches (loculi) in the floor of the chamber itself. " He adds thatother tombs here are similar, as indeed I am able toaffirm, having found many tombs there, scores indeed, ofthis description. These tombs are doubtless of as early adate as Lysanias, who was tetrarch of Abilene in the daysofJohn the Baptist. (Luke, iii. , 1.)This style of tomb is also well known to all who haveexamined an Egyptian necropolis, as very common therein remotely ancient times. I therefore see no reason todoubt the antiquity of this crypt near the Holy Sepulchre.Were it of a later period than the time ofthe uncoveringof the Sepulchre by Constantine, I have no doubt weshould have a record of its period and object. A verycommon, casy, and absurd method of disposing of thesoarguments, is to talk wisely of monkish tricks, but themonks of the Terra Santa have in all ages been closelywatched by zealous enemies, either unbelievers or herctics, and that they should succeed in imposing on theworld by the digging of such tombs, is impossible. Another style ofargument, which I am fully prepared to findmyselfmet with, is that which ascribes any one's belief inthe Sepulchre to monkish influence. I admit very freelymy indebtedness to the monks of the Terra Santa for hospitality and kindness. I am so stupid myself that I havenever been able to see why acquaintance and friendshipwith the monks should have any greater influence thandecided Protestant and anti- Roman, Greek, Armenianor Jew education feelings and proclivities, or why goodtreatment in the Convent of the Terra Santa should affect myjudgment in the Church of the Resurrection, or302 HISTORY OF THE SEPULCHRE.here in America. Such arguments have no weight exceptin the minds of those who use them.I scarcely need again call the reader's attention to thefact that this is not to be understood as an argument toestablish the authenticity ofthe alleged Holy Places. Thisis not attempted. But I believe it can be, and has beenshown, that there is no force or value in the attempt toprove them false, and this done, every man is left toweigh the sufficiency of the evidence in their favor, andbelieve or reject it, as he sees fit.IV .HISTORY OF CALVARY AND THE SEPULCHRE.Ir only remains for me to give a brief history of theHoly Sepulchre, that the reader may be in possession ofall the facts on which to base his faith.We have seen that the Sepulchre was marked by thecrection over it of a temple, which Jerome, writing in thefifth century, ascribes to Adrian. When IIelena visitedJerusalem, she was guided to the spot by the residentChristians. Her son Constantine, Emperor of Rome,having been converted to Christianity, was willing andanxious to devote treasure to the beautifying of the HolyCity, and the aged and pious pilgrim, his mother, wasequally anxious to place the sepulchre of Christ in a position to be honored, as it had been before disgraced. Constantine ordered the removal of the temple of Venus,and it was done, the mound on which it stood removed,and a cavern found, answering, in all respects, the descriptions of the evangelists. I believe no one doubts thatthat cavern stood on the spot now pointed out as the siteof the Sepulchre, and I think the reader will believe withHELENA. 303me that the identical cave remains, the veritable rockhewn tomb.In the absence of better reasoning, a very trifling objection has been magnified much by writers on the HolySepulchre. It is that there is a discrepancy in the accounts of the discovery of the Sepulchre and other holyplaces, Eusebius ascribing it to Constantine, and laterwriters to his mother. The latter was in Jerusalem, andthe emperor in Rome. The emperor was the commander,and the paymaster. His mother was present, as a devoted pilgrim, to aid in person. Eusebius speaks of theroyal patron, and later writers of both the patron andthe pilgrim. The reader will have no difficulty in understanding facts if he bear in mind that Helena was in Jerusalem about 325, and left there after the uncovering ofthe Sepulchre, and her discovery of the Cross, and diedbefore the Basilica of Constantine was completed, at thededication of which Eusebius was present. Eusebiusmight well omit her in his account of the great work ofConstantine, and yet no argument be thence derived thatshe had no share in it.I may pause here, a moment, to allude to that othersearch, carried on by Helena herself, which many writershave confounded with the finding of the Sepulchre.While the empress-mother was in Jerusalem, she listened to a story-tradition, if the word be better-whichaged Christians related to her, of the history of the crosson which Christ suffered. They said that it was wellknown among Christians, that, on the night of the crucifixion , the cross was thrown into a pit near the place ofcrucifixion, and that it had never been removed from thatspot.This statement is ample evidence to oppose to the attempted proof that no tradition of the Holy Sepulchreexisted in the time of Eusebius, and that the discovery of304 THE TRUE CROSS.the place was miraculous. If men knew where the crosslay, they knew where the tomb was. If they had anaccount of one, it involves necessarily the fact that theyhad of both. The very places were, according to theScripture history, the same. Wherever Calvary was, "inthat place" was a garden and a sepulchre.Helena caused that place to be excavated. The excavation remains unto this day. No one denies it . Shofound in it three crosses, or pieces of timber which shebelieved to be parts of three crosses; one of them sherecognized as the true cross of Christ, by the inscriptionofPilate, which remained upon it.The story that it was recognized by touching the threecrosses to a sick person, and her reviving and beinghealed by the true cross, is of a few years' later date thanChrysostom and Saint Ambrose, who only state that itwas known by the inscription, and say nothing of themiracle. *Without pausing to discuss the question, whether thewood here found was or was not the wood on whichChrist suffered, it is, nevertheless, a discovery of thedeepest interest in a historical point of view. The nailswhich were found in the same pit, were believed to bethe nails that had transfixed the hands of the Victim.The history of two of them is forever lost. Two otherswere wrought, by order of Helena, into a crown for herson; and the royalty of Rome acknowledged the supremacy of Him whom a Roman governor crucified for sayingthat he was King of the Jews, by wearing a crown madeofthe iron that the nation believed was the instrument ofhis torture. The history of those nails, whether theywere or not the nails on which the sins of mankind hung-of the heads that have worn that crown, from themighty Charles to the child of Destiny-of the weary

• Ambros. Fun. Orat. de Thedos. Imp. A.D. 395.

WOOD OF THE CROSS . 305temples that have throbbed under it-would be one ofthe most sublime histories of this world.And the history of the wood is of greater interest .Could men but know the beating hearts that have hushedto quiet death under fragments of that wood-the vowsthat have been made over pieces of those beams-thesouls that have gone to God, fighting valiantly on oldbattle-fields around the sacred wood-could one thousandth part of the history of men as related to it be told,we should regard the excavation of that cavern as one ofthe most thrilling incidents in the world's story.But a few years later than this discovery, Cyril speaksof it and ofthe fragments, as already widely distributed . *Nevertheless, the chief part of the wood, enough to becalled the cross, was preserved in Jerusalem, where itbecame one ofthe objects of greatest interest to pilgrims.At the time of the Persian invasion it was carried awayby Chosroes; but recovered again, and restored by theEmperor Heraclius, who, on the 14th September, 629,marched barefoot and in sackcloth, into Jerusalem, carrying on his own shoulder this piece of holy wood, recovered from the enemy; from which time to the present,that day has been a feast day in the Romish and Englishcalendar. It continued to be in the possession of thechurch of Jerusalem until the time of the Crusades.It was carried from Jerusalem to rouse the droopingspirits of the Crusaders, when summoned by Guy, lastking of Jerusalem, to the battle of Hattin; and I shallhave occasion hereafter to describe its fate in that notedconflict. I find it afterward spoken of as in Jerusalem, inthe possession of Salah e'deen, although an old accountstates that it was buried on the field of battle; but laterthan this I am not able to trace its history by any author.ities within my reach.Cat. iv. 10; x. 19; xiii. 4.306 THE SEPULCHRE.The Sepulchre, as uncovered by order of Constantine,Eusebius describes as " a cave which had evidently beenhewn out, " and as being hewn in an isolated rock, onewhich stood by itself, on the level land. He saw it withhis own eyes. We are not now speaking of tradition.From that day to this the written record is complete,and no one doubts that this spot is unchanged.And I think the same cave remains.This idea seems startling, especially to visitors whohave seen only the marble decorations of it.By Constantine's order, the rock was hewn into asmaller shape, decorated with columns, and left standingopposite the western front of his church, or basilica.Cyril, born A.D. 315, cotemporary with and ordainedby Macarius himself (who was bishop of Jerusalem, A.D.335, when the basilica was dedicated) , and who succeededhim as bishop in 350, describes the rock of Golgotha asshowing how the rocks were riven, because of Christ'scrucifixion, and also the cave, and how it was hewndown.*I scarcely need cite the Bordeaux Pilgrim (A.D. 333),who says, " On the left hand is the little hill Golgotha,where the Lord was crucified, and, about a stone's throwfrom it, the crypt wherein his body was laid. " For, Ipresume, no one doubts the existence of a cave at thetime ofthe dedication, A.D. 335.The Sepulchre remained the object of Christian solicitude until the beginning of the seventh century, whenChosroes, the Persian monarch, swept over Palestine, andcaptured Jerusalem. The Jews, who followed in histrain, destroyed the Christian churches, and the basilicawas burned. The Christian inhabitants were slaughtered,and the city once more desolated. This invasion was likethe hurricane, furious, but passing swiftly away.

• Cyril, Lect. xiv. 9.

OLD PILGRIMS . 307Modestus, vicar of the Patriarch of Jerusalem, rebuiltthe churches on their ruins. In the latter part of thecentury, Adamnanus describes the visit of Arculfus toJerusalem, and the cave in the solid rock then standing,from which it appears that it had not been destroyed inthe Persian invasion. He describes the marks of thetools on the rock, the color of which was white and red,which is the color of the native stone of Jerusalem, asnow seen. He is very minute in his account of the caveas such (Spelacum sive spelunca, recte vocitari possit).The door was on the east; the chamber, a foot and ahalf higher than an ordinary man; the sepulchre, on thenorth side of the chamber, excavated in the same rock,and elevated three palms above the floor. All this is accurately descriptive of the present cave.

St. Willibald, who visited Jerusalem in A.D. 765, describes the Sepulchre briefly, but with ample minuteness:"Illud sepulchrum fuerat in petra excisum; et illa petrastat super terram, et est quadrans in imo, et in summosubtilis * et in orientali plaga in illa petra scpulchri est janua, per quam intrant homines in sepulchrumorare. Et ibi est intus lectus, in quo corpus Dominijacebat." This description again agrees with the presentappearance of the Sepulchre.Such it continued until the accession of the Kalif ElHakim, who, A.D. 1011 , demolished the Church of theSepulchre. He, however, very soon restored the buildings. The historians who describe his attempt either saynothing of the tomb itself, or, as Glaber and Ademar,affirm decidedly that it was not in any way injured atthis time. Ademar says it remained solid and immovable. An attempt to destroy it by fire was made, butbeing rock it resisted the effort.

• Hodoep. S. Willibaldi in Thesaurus, etc. , Canisii, p. 111.

Dr. Williams cites the only two chroniclers who mention the result308 OLD PILGRIMS.Throughout the Crusades, which followed soon afterthe time of El Hakim, the Sepulchre is spoken of as existing. No one of the numerous writers of that periodmentioned any doubt of its existence, or spoke, as theyall would have spoken, of the place of the Sepulchre in distinction from the Tomb itself.Thus Robert the monk, writing at the beginning ofthe next century, and describing that day of slaughterwhen the Christians entered Jerusalem with Godfrey, saysof the soldiers, that they went to the Holy Sepulchre oftheLord in which he was buried; * and Baldric, of the sameperiod, speaks expressly of the Church as distinct fromthe Sepulchre, which was in it.fIndeed, to doubt it would be to render ridiculous allthe devotion of the Crusaders, and falsify the entire historical evidence of that period, when men by millionsvisited and knelt at, or fought and died for the privilegeof kneeling at the Sepulchre.Benjamin of Tudela (a Jew) , visiting Jerusalem aboutof El Hakim's attempt on the cavo itself. I am indebted to his workfor their evidence, not finding either of them within my reach. Glabersays: "Ipsum quoque concavum sepulchrum tumulum ferri tuditibusquassare tentantes, minime valuerunt. " Ademar more distinctly anddecidedly: " Lapidem vero monumenti cum nullatenus possent comminuere, ignem copiosam suporadjiciunt, sed quasi adamas immobilismansit et solidus. " -Holy City, vol . i. , p. 349." Ad sanctum Domini Sepulchrum læto incessu perrexerunt; et eiqui in eo sepultus fuit gratias referentes capitalicia sua obtulerunt.Ipsa die, sicut per prophetam fuerat prædictum, Sepulchrum Domini fuitgloriosum, cum omnes * * * proni incedebant, et pavimenta imbrolachrymarum inundabant. " —Roberti Monachi, Hist. Hieros. , lib. ix. VidoGesta Dei, etc., vol. i. , p. 76.Baldric, the Archbishop, speaks in the same connection of SanctiSepulchri Ecclesiam , and the Sepulchre itself, making the distinction between them, and describes the crusaders, hastening after the conquest,"ad Sepulchrum Salvatoris deosculandum. " -Baldrici Archiep. , Hist.Hieros., lib. iv.FATHER BONIFACE. 3091160-1170, writes: "The large place of worship calledSepulchre, and containing the Sepulchre of that man, isvisited by all pilgrims. "To multiply illustrations would be tedious. All travelers and all writers, with hardly an exception, throughsuccessive centuries, down to this time, have regarded theSepulchre as a cave in the solid rock.Perhaps the most satisfactory testimony is that ofFather Boniface, of Ragusa, guardian of the Holy Sepulchre from 1550 to 1559. By order of Pope Julius III. ,and permission of Sultan Suleiman, he undertook the repairing of the Church of the Sepulchre, and then uncovered the rock from its casings of ornamental marble. Hesays: "On the demolition whereof, the Holy Sepulchroof our Lord, cut in the rock, offered itself plainly to oureyes, whereon two angels were seen depictedwhich pictures, when first they felt the influence of theair, in great part vanished . But when it became necessary to move one of the slabs of alabaster with whichthe Sepulchre was covered, there clearly appeared to usthat ineffable place wherein the Son of man rested forthree days. "In 1808 the rotunda of the church was destroyed byfire. The Sepulchre was the centre of a furnace of fire,the timber of the dome piled over it, but a picture oftheresurrection, then hanging in it, but now outside thechapel of the angel, was intact by fire, and the cave andits contents were wholly uninjured. It has been veryfoolishly stated by some that the marble slab over thecouch was cracked by this fire. No one who has seenthis fissure, of which I have before spoken (page 79),would so state. It is of uniform width, about an eighthof an inch, extending two thirds across the slab, and

• Quaresmius, vol. ii , p. 512. Not having Quaresmius at hand, I

quote from Dr. Williams.310 THE CASING OF THE SEPULCHRE.ending abruptly, precisely, as I have said before, as if athin stratum of softer stone had crumbled out. It can nomore be mistaken for a crack in the rock made by fire, orany other cause, than could the slit made by a saw halfway across a board.My friend, Mr. Pierotti, architect of the Terra Santa,who was residing in Jerusalem for the purpose of completing certain buildings for the Austrian government,and erecting some votive and other stuctures within thegreat Church of the Resurrection, accompanied me inmany of my visits to the old Church, all parts ofwhich we explored together, from rock foundation todome. On one of these visits we examined with greatcare the little building which incloses the Sepulchre.Entering the Chapel of the Angel in company witha Fransiscan brother, he opened a small concealed doorin the marble side of the little chapel, by which we werelet into a dark passage between the outer and inner wallsof the building. We climbed a narrow and steep staircase, passing with difficulty among iron bars whichbraced the marble slabs, over the top of the Sepulchreto the roof under the dome. The reader, by referringto the very exact view ofthe Holy Sepulchre given elsewhere in this volume, will perceive that we were thenstanding under the sharp dome which overtops thebuilding, which building itself stands in the centre ofthe great rotunda of the church, and is exposed to rainand storm through the open unglazed dome above it."It is solid rock," said my Franciscan companion,stamping his foot on the floor upon which we stood . Iexpressed disbelief to see if he would affirm it, and hewas surprised at my faithlessness. " Certainly it is,"said he; " no one can doubt it . " Mr. Pierotti thenassured me of the fact, as one with which he was perfectly familiar in his capacity of architect, admitted byTHE FIRE OF 1808. 311all the churches to all parts of the building, and engagedin making repairs and improvements in it. My attention.was called to the hole through which the smoke came upfrom the lamps in the tomb, and its appearance, it cannot be denied, was that of a hole through solid rock.I yielded unhesitatingly to Mr. Pierotti's statements,knowing him to be a gentleman of intelligence and education, thoroughly familiar with the Holy Places, and inno respect given to promoting monkish deceptions.Regarding the fire of 1808 as one of the most important points in this chain of evidence, I gathered satisfactory evidence of its effects while standing on theSepulchre, and afterward in the rotunda. The timbersof the rotunda fell on and over the Sepulchre, making itthe centre of a fiery furnace. The outer casings ofmarble were calcined, but the interior was untouched,and its contents, among which was an oil picture, wereuninjured. This fact is incontrovertible. Nor can I account for it in any other way than by supposing theSepulchre arch to be the ancient stone of the hill.There is no reason, therefore, to doubt that the caveremains. Neither is there any reason to doubt that thecave uncovered by Constantine's order was the veritabletomb of Christ. I am content, then, to believe that myknees have pressed the rock where the feet of Marystood when she lifted her beloved load to its restingplace, and where the feet of the risen Saviour firstpressed the rock of the world he had redeemed .I have not space in this volume to attempt any description of the surface of the ground in the Church ofthe Sepulchre. The very elaborate and exact plan, forwhich, as well as the other large illustrations in thisvolume, I am indebted to Dr. Williams's work (the HolyCity) will convey an idea of the localities within thechurch better than a volume of description. The eye312 CALVARY .will instantly fall on the two heavy black semicircles atopposite ends of the church. These, as most of theother heavy black lines, represent solid rock.I suppose that at the time of the crucifixion therewere two knolls or cliffs of rock facing each other, orseparated from each other by a space of which the figure19 is nearly the centre. The cross stood upon one ofthese knolls. The tomb was hewn in the face of theother. Constantine and later builders have hewn awaythe rock around the tomb, while Calvary remains, stern,cold rock, as when rent by the earthquake.THE HOLY SEPULCHRE

18.If I forget thee, O Jerusalem!Ar length our pilgrimage was accomplished . I hadwashed in the Jordan, and had prayed at the Sepulchreof the Lord. I had laved my eyes in the Fountain ofSiloam, whose waters go softly, and had bathed my forehead in the dews that fell at evening in Gethsemane.But my face was not yet set homeward. I had beforeme a journeyto the banks of the Tigris. I intended visiting Nineveh and Babylon, and dropping down the Euphrates to the gulf, where I hoped to find a steamer totake me to Madras, or to Aden, so that I could return toCairo, and thence reach Constantinople in the autumn.My route was, accordingly, to Damascus, visiting thesacred places of northern Palestine in the way. Wetherefore made our farewell visits to the places of deepest interest, and ordered our men to be ready at nine inthe morning for the grand start.Father Joseph gave to Miriam and myself separatecertificates ofour accomplished pilgrimage, notwithstanding he knew our Protestantism, and he positively refuseda farthing in exchange. It was the last courtesy we received from the monks in Jerusalem, and in characterwith all we had seen of them.Thus ended my rest in Jerusalem.Think not lightly of this, my friend, for it is no light 14314 THE ONLY GUIDE- BOOK.matter to have seen the Holy City. I hesitated muchbefore I visited the Holy Land. I had always reasonedsomewhat in this way. If I were taught that the Son ofGod descended to this earth, assuming the form of achild, and was the reputed son of a carpenter in an American village; that he lived here, walked these streets,preached at these corners, slept in the nights on the hillsof Long Island and New Jersey, and was finally mobbedin the public places, tried for some alleged crime, condemned and executed here; if, I say, all this were taughtme, I should find it much more difficult to believe than Inow do the story of his life and death in a distant land,over which tradition and history have cast a holy radiance. I therefore feared much that when I had walkedthe streets of Jerusalem, had climbed the sides of Olivet,had rested in the garden of Gethsemane, and visited theHoly Sepulchre, my faith in the divinity of the Saviour,and the authenticity of his mission, might be seriouslyimpaired.Far otherwise was the reality.Every step that I advanced on the soil of Palestineoffered some new and startling evidence of the truth ofthe sacred story. Every hour we were exclaiming thatthe history must be true, so perfect was the proof beforeour eyes. The Bible was a new book, faith in whichseemed now to have passed into actual sight, and everypage of its record shone out with new, and a thousandfold increased lustre.The Bible had, of course, been our only guide-book.There is no other-and the publication of another willtend materially to decrease the interest of travel in Syria.He who shall visit Holy Soil with Murray's proposed redbook in his hands, will know nothing ofthe keen pleasurethat we experienced in studying out for ourselves the localities of sacred incident, or the intense delight thatBIBLE ILLUSTRATIONS. 315:flashed across our minds when we found those startlingconfirmations of the truth of the story-startling, because unexpected and wholly original.Sitting on the side of Mount Moriah, it was with newforce we read that exquisite passage in the 46th Psalm,"There is a river the streams whereof shall make gladthe city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of theMost High;" which had its origin unquestionably in thebeautiful fountain that springs under the very rocks ofMoriah, the site of the ancient temple, more beautifuljust here where fountains are so rare, and whose waterssupplying Siloam, and thence " going softly" down thevalley of Jehoshaphat, have in all times been the type ofthe salvation that God devised in Jerusalem for the racesof men. The vision of Ezekiel, which promises a riverflowing out of the sanctuary to the eastward, and givinglife even to the terrible death of the Dead Sea, was startling when read on the slope of Moriah, whence thosesweet waters flow down the valley of the Kedron, failingnow, indeed, to reach the far depths of Engeddi, muchless the waters of the Lake of Death.That mournful procession, in which David, flying fromhis rebellious son, went up the Mount of Olives, weepingas he went, was before us like a picture as we sat outsidethe gate of St. Stephen, among the Moslem tombs, andlooked into the valley and across at the steep slope ofthehill of the Lord's ascension. Right well we knew whatthe passage meant, which likened the guardianship oftheFather to the watch kept by the mountains around Jerusalem, when we saw the city, set on a hill itself, yet commanded on the north, east, south, and west by much.higher hills, over whose summits the blue sky curvesdownward with that close embrace that one might wellexpect from the heavens above the city of the Sepulchre.With these thoughts, new and fresh, and crowding on316 THE DEPARTURE.our minds every hour, it is not to be wondered at thatwe were willing to linger in Jerusalem, even after we hadvisited every one of its interesting points again andagain. I should never weary of that walk over theMount of Olives to Bethany, if I walked it every dayuntil the sky opened above me, as it opened above theLord. I should never satisfy my thirst for the waters ofSiloam , if I drank them daily, and were forbidden evermore even the golden wine of Lebanon. I shall nevercease in my soul to visit with pilgrim footsteps, day byday, the Sepulchre of the Saviour of men.But the day appointed for my departure at length arrived. It was a Monday morning. On Sunday eveningI found my way to a little chapel, where I heard a sermon from Dr. Bonar. He had preached two successiveSunday evenings in a sort of lecture-room, belongingto the English mission. IIis ideas on the second comingof Christ to walk those streets, and establish the throneof David on Mount Zion, which we were then seatedupon, if I did not fully coincide in them, were nevertheless eloquent, and interesting just then and there.Early on Monday morning, the court-yard of the houseof Antonio presented a busy appearance. Piles of tents,boxes, canteens, and light baggage, lay on the pavement,which was otherwise covered with a mixed crowd ofArabs and townsmen, Jews, Turks, and Christians, allwishing to dispose of some few more relics of holy places,and extract a fewmore piastres from the departing Hajjis.Abd- cl-Atti came in for instructions, and I directed hinto pitch the tents at Beitin, the ancient Bethel, for I desired to sleep there, if perchance I too might dream ofangels. It was but a short distance from Jerusalem, andI therefore delayed our own departure till nearly noon.Moreright had decided to go with us for the entirejourney, but could not leave till later in the day, havingA MISSIONARY . 317an appointment with some of the English missionaries.The baggage-mules were loaded and despatched. Ferrajj,in all the glory of a new suit, white shirt and drawers,flaming-red tarbouche, black face and shining teeth, ledthe van on his white horse. We still lingered in our ownhired house on the Via Dolorosa, reluctant to go.An old gentleman, Mr. Roberts, an American, whohas taken up his residence in Jerusalem, called to see uswhile we stood waiting. His business was independentBible distribution. He is a NewEnglander who, withoutmoney or friends, has wandered up the Mediterranean toMalta, Constantinople, and finally to Jerusalem, workinghis way slowly, and distributing the Bible, in the languages of the countries he visits, of which he knowsnothing himself. It may seem a sort of monomania.Perhaps it is. But I commend him to all travelers as agood, noble old man, who is content to die at Jerusalemin this work to which he has sacrificed himself, and I commend him to all at home who desire to aid a work socarried on, independent of mission boards, by a volunteer who commands the respect and esteem of the missionaries wherever he has traveled. He was sustained inJerusalem entirely by mission assistance, and it was nottill after I left, that I knew these facts in his history, andthat he would have been willing to receive money in aidof his work. Ilo never hinted at it in any way, thoughwe saw him almost daily while there.At length we pushed through the noisy crowd in thecourt-yard. The horses stood in the Via Dolorosa, impatient to be away. Mohammed threw up his fine head andsnuffed the air as if anxious to be off over the hills.I lifted Miriam into her saddle, and she led off, downthe Via Dolorosa, around the corner, and up to the Damascus gate, out of which we rode, with bowed heads,and in silence.318 THE LAST GAZE.Passing the tomb of Helena, and crossing the extremeupper part ofthe valley of the Kedron, we ascended theslope of Mount Scopus, which commands Jerusalem onthe north-east. Pausing on the summit, we looked for thelast time on the domes and minarets of the City of thegreat King.Seeing nothing of Abd- el-Atti, who had waited in thecity to accompany Moreright, who was detained by hisengagement, we dismounted and sat on the ground. Thehill was covered with hundreds of memorial heaps ofstone. For it is, as I have before remarked, an orientalcustom, that has a remote origin, to heap up a pile ofstones on a hill-top which commands the first or the lastview ofany place of devout pilgrimage.I, too, heaped up my pile of stones. Miriam, too,gathered her's together by mine. Whitely followed theexample.Then we sat down, each by his monument, and lookedback at Jerusalem, and sought, with earnest eyes, to fixthat view in our memories forever.The soft wind played with my hair and beard, for I hadeven taken off my tarbouche. Never was wind so holyon myforehead as that breeze which came down over thehills of Galilee. So sitting there, I looked at the domesof the Holy City.If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning!No tears came now to obscure that gaze. With eagereyes, I took in all the prospect, the Mount of Olives, theMount of the Temple, Mount Zion , and the dome abovethe Sepulchre. With beating hearts, we yearned towardthe city, even as the " tribes of the wandering foot" yearntoward their fathers' temple.There were a few white-robed women sitting under theolive-trees near the Damascus gate, but there was noTHE LAST GAZE. 319other sign of life anywhere. It might have been a cityof the dead for aught that we could see. A city of themighty dead it certainly was. Not as when Titus saw itfrom the same spot, with fortresses and palaces crowningits heights, the gold of the temple flashing in the noondaysun, and millions of the children of Abraham thronging tothe walls that inclosed the hill of his sacrifice, and rendingthe air with their shouts of defiance! Nor as when, overthe smoking ruins of the temple, right through the rentvail of the holy of holies, the destroying barbariansmarched to the assault on Zion, and the wail of the perishing children of Judah and Benjamin went up beforeGod. Not as then, indeed.Nor as when, in later ages, the Christian hosts rushedin behind the frowning battlements of the city, when therent air quivered with the cry of " Holy Cross," the ringof steel on armor, shouts of triumph, and agonizing wails,that reached the car of the false prophet in hell, and madehim writhe, even in the pit, as the slaughtered hosts ofhis followers came rushing down to curse him.Not as then, indeed!The silent city lay calm and majestic in the sunshinethat fell on church and dome, with a gentle, even a loving,though sad smile. Around the walls there were alternatelights and shades, the semblance of the memories thatclustered there, to gild or to darken it .At length we mounted, and made as though we wouldgo on, but a cloud came over the sun, and we could notleave Jerusalem thus. I waited till the full sunlight, gorgeous at high noon, lay bright on wall and church, oncastle and minaret, and brightest of all, on the spot hallowed bythe last footsteps of the ascending Lord, andthen I turned my back on the city, and saw it no more.Anhourfrom the summit of Scopus, where the Damascus road, which we were traveling, ran through a rocky320 HONESTY OF ARABS .valley, we dismounted again, and waited for Morerightand Abd-el-Atti. We left the luncheon with them, andwere beginning to feel the need of it. I threw the pileof water- proof coats on the ground, under the shadow ofa high rock, by way of a seat for Miriam, and Whitelyand myself practiced pistol-shots at stones, while thehorses strolled around and nibbled the scanty grass.Again we mounted and rode on.An hour later I missed the bundle of water-proofwhich I ought to have replaced behind my saddle.By this time we had overtaken Betuni, who had leftwith the baggage in the morning, but had been asleep,with his donkey, along the road-side, waiting for us. Isent him back with my horse, and I walked on behind hisdonkey, which, the moment his master was gone, beganto show all of the devil that a donkey can be supposedto have in him. Nowhe would go, and now he wouldn't.Here he took a steep hill-side, and there he plunged downan apparently impassable wall of rocks. I never haveseen the equal of that donkey or his master. I gave himup in ten minutes, begged Whitely to " surround him" onhis horse, and I trotted forward on foot, while a cold sunset shed a red light on the barren hills that surroundedme.Betuni found the bundle lying open as I left it. Adozen persons had passed it: no one had touched it . Incontrast with this instance of Arab honesty I have oftenhad occasion to remark that in Christian Italy, within tenmiles of Naples, this same bundle was cut off from mycarriage and stolen in broad daylight. I have no hesitation in saying that it is safer, so far as stealing goes, totravel in Moslem countries than in America or Europe.The man who trusts an Arab will never be deceived. Asaddle hung up on a tree by the road-side is nevertouched till the owner comes to reclaim it , if it be monthsREEROTH . 321afterward. In Damascus, in the most crowded bazaar, Isaw one day an article of value, which some one haddropped, lying in the path, where thousands passed it.Every man, woman, and child turned aside and avoidedtreading on it or touching it. It would lie there till evening; and if the owner did not come for it, it wouldthen be taken to the nearest mosk and hung up till heclaimed it.When Betuni returned, it was late, and the sun wasgoing westward; but no appearance was yet to be seenof Abd-el-Atti, Moreright, or the luncheon. We reachedBirel, the ancient Beeroth, one of the cities of the Gibeonites (Joshua, ix. 17), and now a village on a hillside, near which is a fine fountain of water from which(Beer), it derived, and since keeps, its name. In a smallbuilding over the fountain, which may once have been apraying- place, we found shelter from the piercing wind.The women came out here for water. One or two ofthem were tall, slender, and beautiful girls, who laughedand talked with us as freely as coquettes at home, andquite as gracefully. The red sunset was fading from thehills, when at last we saw our horsem*n crossing theridge to the southward, accompanied by two others, whoproved to be Dr. Bonar and an English gentleman in hiscompany. They had despatched their tents, in the morning, with instructions to their servants to pitch themwhere ours were, and then had come out of the city andaccidentally fallen in with Moreright.We did not stop for luncheon now. Bethel was sonear us that we concluded to wait for Hajji Mohammed'sdinner, and pushed on, cold and hungry, until we cameamong the vast boulders that cover the land around thesite of Bethel. Jacob's only trouble must have been infinding a stone small enough for a pillow. Immense rocks,of every conceivable shape, covered the ground in all14*322 BETHEL.directions. Off the road, to the right, were some largeruins, which the Arabs called Bourg Bethel, but whichwe did not go to examine, for darkness was fast overtaking us, and our tents were nowhere visible.We rode on, every white rock in the twilight deceivingus; and at length it became perfect night, with a moonlying on the western hills, and magnifying every stone inthe path by its dim silver rays.I saw by Abd- el-Atti's manner that the disappearanceof the tents was not so much a matter of surprise to himas it was to me. I began to suspect that there was a design on some one's part to disobey orders, and lengthenthe journey ofto-day to shorten that of to-morrow. Byeight o'clock we were tolerably well fatigued. We hadbeen in the saddle eight hours, with very little rest.The moonlight on the hills and in the valleys made itexceedingly difficult for us to advance rapidly. Mohammed, who had been ridden hard in the morning, beganto show symptoms of weariness, though with the pertinacity of his Arab blood he set his foot down firmly onthe road and moved steadily and cautiously forward.The path now led down precipitous hill-sides into deepgorges, winding hither and thither until I was completelypuzzled and lost all idea of the country through which Iwas going. Abd- el- Atti had fallen behind, and at length,as we rode through a grove of olive-trees in the bottomofa ravine, I missed him entirely.I shouted, but there was no reply except the echowhich came back from the side of the mountain opposite"Ya Abd-el-Atti!"It rang along the ravine, and came back in two, three,and four sharp echoes, then all was silent in the moonlight that fell like a glory on the flashing leaves of theolive-trees, but the dragoman did not answer.I fired a pistol-another-and another. The soundNO TENTS . 323went rattling down the ravine in which I was waiting,and the next instant Whitely, who had ridden on withthe party, came back at a gallop, not doubting that I hadkilled at least two Bedouins, and hoping that there wasone more of the same sort left for him.As he joined me, I heard Abd-el-Atti's pistol far off onthe other side of the ravine. I fired again, and he answered again. He was lost, and but for my pause wouldhave gone on to Cesarea, on the coast of the Mediterranean.I began to think that we were lost as well. Rejoiningthe party who were waiting for us, we held a council,for our position became serious. Miriam was nearly wornout, and Whitely and myself confessed to fatigue. I hadwalked for an hour, to relieve my poor horse. Betuniwas positive that we were right and the tents were before us. I questioned Abd-el-Atti. He said they werecertainly ahead ofus."How did he know?"He did not know-only they must be-where elsecould they be?Our English friends were in more trouble than we, fortwo of their party, relying on our tents being at Beitin,had remained in Jerusalem two hours later and were yetbehind us.Betuni was sullen. I cross-examined him, but the dogknew that I had begun to suspect some one, and if hewere in the secret, would not confess it . Abd-el- Atti halfintimated, in English, which Betuni did not understand,that he, Betuni, had ordered the tents on to Ain Harameeyeh, to save his mules a long journey the next day,to Nablous.I looked around for a large olive-tree that would holda man of Betuni's small size, and, seeing one near at hand,collared the little fellow, dragged him off his donkey to-324 HANGING BETUNI.ward the tree, and ordered him to pray then and for thelast time.He looked in vain for help from Whitely, and the resthad gone on to the foot of the hill, not knowing of ourdelay. Down went Betuni on his knees, and prayed, butto me.He swore by all the commandments in the decalogueand the beards of all the prophets and false prophets, thathe did not know where the tents were, only he knew, ofa certainty, that they must be ahead of us.I turned away, half doubting, and walked on by theside ofWhitely's horse, he and Abd- el-Atti following andgrumbling to each other in bad Syrian Arabic which I buthalf understood.The road was terrible. Oftentimes it led through narrow rock fissures, where I was afraid my horse would fallover on me, for I was walking and he following, like adog, behind me. The moon was on the edge of the hills,so that, at times, we went in deep shade, but our footingwas better at such times than when the delusive light ofthe moon lay on our rocky path.Wild hills surrounded and hemmed us in. It was ascene for ghostly imaginations, as we pressed on, a silentcompany, along the winding pathway down the hills.That pathway, doubtless, in long gone ages, he who hadno home, traveled, in nights like this, from Galilee. Thatpathway hosts of Roman soldiers trod, bands of Crusaders, many foot-weary pilgrims.I looked into the gloom on each side to see the shadesof the dead reappearing, for every bush and rock seemedlike the form of an old man, gazing at our curious procession.At length we came out on a point of the hill, belowwhich there was yet another long plunge of the ravinedown which we had been coming for two hours. FarTHE TENTS FOUND. 325below us we saw a camp-fire at which Betuni grunted hisapproval, but he avoided me. I was not sure that wehad not hit on a camp of Bedouins, and ordered a halt.A pistol-shot was answered by the unmistakable ringofHajji Mohammed's fowling-piece, and we rode on.It was ten o'clock when we reached the tents at AinHarameeyeh. This spot had been proposed to me in themorning, and I had expressly forbidden them to cometo it.Tired out as I was, for I had walked by my poorhorse for more than an hour, before entering the tent Icalled dragoman, cook, servant, and muleteers before me,and examined them seriatim. But no one ever knewsharper witnesses in a police court. No one knew howthey came there, and no one could tell who ordered themto come there. While Abd- el-Atti asserted that he hadgiven the orders correctly, the entire crowd of men didnot deny it , but still somehow understood that AinHarimeeyeh was the camp ground, and had come here.The tents of the Scottish party were here also, and I endeavored to learn how they were induced to come on,but they were as silent as the rocks of Beitin, and I gaveit up, contenting myself with a solemn assurance that ifthere occurred another instance of disobedience to orders, especially in the matter of selecting the place forthe camp at night, I would thrash the responsible partyas he never dreamed of being thrashed, and if I couldnot find who was responsible I would whip them all, fromfirst to last, whether there was a governor at hand to doit or I had to do it myself.19 .Shiloh, Shechem, and Samaria.We left Ain Harimeeyeh at a quarter to nine, A.м. Theroad lay up the valley for one hour, when we arrived ata point where a broad plain stretched off to the right.Sinjil was on the hill-side over us to the left, and turningdown to the cast we made a detour from the direct roadto Nablous, for the purpose of visiting Seilun, the ancient Shiloh. Forty minutes from Sinjil, passing TurmusAya on the plain, one of the most beautiful plains inSyria, and crossing the hill which bounds it on the north,we arrived at a small square building known to the modern inhabitants of the country as the Mosk of Settein(the sixty-not Seilun as Dr. Robinson understood it).It is a white stone building about thirty feet square.The broken pieces of three Corinthian columns lie insideofit, and an urn between two wreaths, over the doorway,seems indicative of a sepulchral purpose. The outsideof the walls has been inclosed in a sloping fortress ofheavy stone-work, showing that it has, at some period,been converted into a fortress, but when or why, orwhence its name, I could not in any way ascertain.The ruins of Shiloh are but a little distance beyond,but of these nothing definite remains. The chief evidence of the presence of a great city, in former days,is found in the tombs which are hewn in the rocks aboutMOUNT, HERMON. 327here, and which are now open and empty. The locationof the place is tolerably certain.In the last chapter of Judges we find the directiongiven to the Benjamites, to catch wives for themselves ofthe daughters of Shiloh when they danced at the yearlyfeast; and there Shiloh is located " on the north side ofBethel, on the cast side of the highway that goethup from Bethel to Shechem, and on the south of Lebonah." This appears to be the spot. The ground, inall directions, was filled with the small cubes that formedancient pavements. In one ploughed piece of groundthey were more plenty than soil.Three fourths of an hour from Shiloh we reached KhanLuban, where we struck the direct road again, andfifteen minutes beyond this the village of Luban, whichis, doubtless, the ancient Lebonah above referred to.In the afternoon, having passed Sawieh, we accomplished the difficult ascent of a high ridge, one hour fromLuban, from which we had a view before us up a longand broad valley that came down from Galilee, andaway beyond it, white and glorious in the sky, thesnowy summit of Mount Hermon. Jebel-es- Sheik, thesheik of mountains as we called it, and as the name infact signifies, was from that day never out of our sightfor an entire day during more than a month of travel.It looked down on our sleep every night in all thenorthern part of Syria, and we were on the west, south,cast, and north of it. In commanding beauty it equals.any mountain I have seen. How we became acquaintedwith the dews of Hermon will hereafter appear.We rode up the valley, and at five o'clock reached thepoint where the valley of Nablous comes into it from thewest and, crossing it, continues on to the cast . Thesouth- west corner of this intersection is occupied byMount Gerizim, the north-west by Mount Ebal. They328 JACOB'S WELL.are on the opposite sides ofthe valley of Nablous, but onthe same side of the valley which comes down fromGalilee.Mount Gerizim falls steeply to the valley level, but before it quite reaches it slopes off a little. In this slope,not quite onthe valley level, is the well of Jacob, ofwhich,and of the woman of Samaria, every reader knows thestory. We reached it at five o'clock, and dismounted toexamine it. It was formerly a deep well, of which theopening was vaulted over in a small chamber under thesurface of the ground. A few weeks before our arrivalthis vault had fallen in, and the stones had jammed in themouth of the well, closing it up entirely, so that it wouldrequire laborers and a day's work to open it.But the well itself is sufficiently located, nor can therebe any doubt that this is the well which Jacob dug, andwhich Christ hallowed by his presence and by the comparison of the water with that living water that he couldgive.I had never before understood how it happened thatChrist waited at a well, as he did, while his disciples wentinto the city to buy meat, but here, on the ground, it wasvery plain. He, in fact, could not have done otherwise.He was traveling fromJerusalem to Galilee. The directroad was up this valley. To go to Shechem, the disciplesmust go up the cross valley and return to the same spotagain. He, therefore, sat down here until they returned,since there was no occasion for him to walk a mile or moreand back again.In regard to the objection, that the woman of Samariawould not have come to such a distant well for water, Dr.Robinson has well remarked that the statement is not thatshe came from the city. She might have been workingin the neighborhood , or even living there. She went intothe city only to tell her story, or she might have come toJACOB'S WELL. 329this ancient well of Jacob from a peculiar love or veneration for its waters, even from the city. Afew rods fromthe well was a small Mohammedan wely, or dome, whichmarks the site of the tomb of Joseph, a much more probable place than in the mosk at Hebron, for without doubtthis is the parcel of ground which was bought from thefather of Shechem, and which Jacob gave to Joseph.Here the body that was cast into the pit and rescued forcaptivity, that refused the soft embraces of the wife ofPotiphar and rested in the arms of Asenath, that wasclothed in the purple of Egyptian royalty and thronedover the greatest nation of the world, that was embalmedand kept in a stately sepulchre until the exodus of hischildren, and then borne up and down the desert, nowalmost finding its desired repose by Abraham and Jacob,now resting on the shore of the salt sea, and now wandering among the mountains of Moab, here that body foundits coveted rest.Here, in later years, the soft air of the valley heardthose low and musical tones that echo still on all theplains of Holy Land, in those words that the winds whisper on Ebal and Gerizim, on Himmalayeh and Andes, thewords of sublime faith and perfect adoration, “ God is aSpirit, and they that worship him must worship him inspirit and in truth. "We rode up the cross valley, as I have called it, to thecity of Nablous, which lies a mile or more from the wellof Jacob, covering probably part of, if not all, the site ofShechem.Mount Ebal was on our right, and Gerizim on ourleft, and in the front of each, where the valley narrowedto the least width, was a platform, natural, indeed, butcapable of holding a hundred thousand persons, as if expressly arranged for the scene of blessing and cursingwhich here took place.330 A DISCOVERY .But there was another discovery that we made justhere, which was of startling interest.When Moses had brought the children of Israel to thebanks ofthe Jordan, and gave them his last commands inthe valley over-against Beth-peor, he ordered, amongother things, that scene which was to take place on thesemountains. It had always been a matter of curiosity tome, as I doubt not it has been to many others, that Moses,who had never been in the land of Canaan, should yethave made such an exact description of the spot in whichthis was to be performed:"And it shall come to pass, when the Lord thy Godhath brought thee in unto the land whither thou goest topossess it, that thou shalt put the blessing upon MountGerizim, and the curse upon Mount Ebal . Are they noton the other side Jordan, by the way where the sungoeth down, in the land of the Canaanites, which dwellin the champaign over-against Gilgal, beside the plains ofMoreh?" (Deut. , xi . 29.) And afterward he gave themorder for standing by tribes on opposite sides of the valley, and responding to each other in the words of blessingand cursing.And now, as we rode up the narrow pass between thehills, we looked behind us, and there, right down the valley, which went sloping away thirty miles to the Jordan,lit in the red rays of the setting sun, were the mountainsof Moab and the summit of Pisgah.It was evident that the very words of the great lawgiver were accompanied by a gesture of his hand pointingthem to Ebal and Gerizim, at the head of that valley, andI now saw how he was led to select them as the place forthe ceremony.Riding up the valley, we entered Nablous, and threadedour waythrough narrow streets, dismal, and crowded withdismal-looking people, who opened their eyes in astonish-NABLOUS. 331ment at our cavalcade. We passed on the way the chiefmosk, which is an ancient Christian church, and is stillstately and fine in appearance.Nablous, the ancient Neapolis, and still called Naplesby the natives, has now about ten thousand inhabitants,of whom none possess any special interest, except a verysmall number, less than two hundred, the last representatives of the Samaritans.We rode through the city, from east to west, and foundthe tents pitched among trees on the west side, just outof the gate. On a low housetop near the gateway, justbefore passing out, I saw the resident governor, surrounded by his officers. As we rode up he bowed politely, and I paused to exchange with him those pleasantsalutations of the East, which more than any other intercourse with the people, attach the traveler to them.I did not dismount, as he was considerably higher upthan I, but asking him at what hour the gates were closedfor the night, and receiving for reply that they werenever closed, but always remained open, I rode on to thecamp, where I found the others already lying on a pile ofbaggage and carpets, hastening Hajji Mohammed's slowprogress.It was " by the will of God, whose prophet is Mohammed, ever blessed, " that we got dinner at any time. Ourpilgrim cook was a firm fatalist. If dinner was to beready, it would be ready. No entreaties or threatscould persuade him to move along any whit faster.The only tedious hour of the day was that immediatelyafter arriving at the camp for the evening, when we layon the baggage, still cloaked and gloved, with whips inhand, as if the halt were but for a moment, shoutingat cook, servants, and dragoman until the soup wasready.Those were the hours of Betuni's greatest achieve332 EVENING SCENE.ments. Then he quarreled with the horses, and growledat the Iowajjies, and cursed the mules.That afternoon I had special reason for looking dubiously at him, and he knew it . For I had by no meansgiven up the idea that he was in league with Abd-elAtti to spoil my night's rest at Bethel.After various attempts to attract my attention, by arranging the baggage, bringing the books I usually read atthat time, and hinting that the dinner was in progress, heat length burst into a small storm of rage that died awayin hoarse growls, and ended with a rattling thunder ofkicks on the sides of his extraordinary donkey.A fresh breeze of wind, coming down from MountEbal, strained the tent-cords to their utmost tension,swinging the canvas to and fro over our heads, and flashing the bright flag out among the branches of the trees.In those canvas houses little we cared for wind, or cold,or storm, so the coffee were good and the tobacco pure.The iron bedsteads answered well for sofas on which tolounge till sleeping time. Dinner over, and the pipesalight, we always placed Miriam on one of these lounges,rolled up in shawls if the weather were cool; then theswift hours had the wings of pleasant talk.Then came around us, brought up by the magicianpower of words, single words, that raised the dead pastto living presence, all the forms, and faces, and sceneryof distant lands. It were vain to attempt to recounthow often I recalled my father's voice, my mother'sstories to her child, as I went up and down the hills ofTerra Santa; how many times thought went back to thevillage church-the white head of the good old man, myfather, in the pulpit, his clear voice reading the sublimePsalms of David, or praying to the God in whose presence he now sits; how many times I remembered thetwilight in our home, the Sunday evening twilight of allA VISIT TO THE SAMARITANS. 333others, the gathering around the hearth, the story ofJoseph, Samuel, David, the hymn of peace-the peacethat followed after the hymn!Many and difficult have been our various paths in life.One and another has wandered far off, over seas and continents. Two of us have been in Nablous!On this same spot of ground, where now my tents arepitched, my brother had slept. The most thrilling ideathat took possession of me that evening was this: thattwo ofthose boys who used, of a Sunday morning, to lookup with earnest eyes to their father in the pulpit of theold white meeting-house, had set their far-traveled feet.on the soil of the Holy Land, in the foot-prints of theLord.Moreright interrupted my reveries, by proposing to gointo the town and visit the Samaritans. I was not unwilling. A guide appeared, in the shape ofan attaché ofthe mission school in Nablous, and we entered the opengateway through which we had emerged shortly before.Silence reigned. The narrow, dark streets were absolutely deserted. No sign of life was visible; nor wasthere window or gleaming fire, or any thing to show thatit was not a city of ancient days, empty and desolate.As we advanced, the streets grew darker, until at last wewere in the very blackness of darkness, and the next stepplunged us, all four, in a deep mud hole, where we pausedto hold a consultation.I had, as usual, a piece of candle in my pocket, andplenty of matches. A flash revealed our position. Thecandle burned a moment, and the wind then dashed itout. But we advanced under a dark stone arch, into along passage, in which the wind howled furiously, emerging at length by the door of a house at which our guidepaused.A knock and a shout brought out a sad-looking woman334 SAMARITAN SYNAGOGUE .and a fast-looking boy. They let us in, and called therabbi and his assistant to show us what we wished to see,the Samaritan synagogue.The elder rabbi was a sharp specimen, with an eye tothe tangible and useful. No speculating German, nordreaming American. Not he. He began to whisper andmutter bucksheesh from the first moment of our acquaintance.He led us up a stairway to the top of a house, acrossthis, and into an open place like a small portico. Here hedemanded that we should take off our shoes; and we, ofcourse, complied with his request.He then led us into a large, low room, dark as Erebus,where we stood in silence, while he scratched two orthree matches on the wall and obtained a light. Bythiswe saw that on the side of the room there was a niche,concealed by a curtain covered with curious devices, butno intelligible inscriptions.The chief object of this visit was to see the ancientcopy of the law which this people possess, and which theyprofess was written by the hands of Abishua, the son ofPhineas, nearly thirty-five hundred years ago. The oldman demanded a bucksheesh, as the preliminary. I declined, and promised it as a closing ceremony. After alittle demurring, he at length consented, and brought outtwo immense rolls of parchment, in cases. They were, asusual, on rollers, so arranged that one could roll the pageoff from one and on the other as the reading proceeded.One of these two was the ancient manuscript in question,and the other a more modern one.I believe some travelers have been disposed to regardthis manuscript as quite as old as the seventh or eighthcentury of the Christian era. I formed a different opinion. I think it scarcely more than five hundred, if it befour hundred years old. I saw nothing of the peculiarTHE SAMARITANS. 335reverence for it which travelers have described. On thecontrary, when I handled and examined it, turning overthe back and bending the parchment in my hands to testit* probable age, the old rabbi or the younger offered noobjection, but, on the contrary, seemed anxious about theresult of my examination.They showed us some other manuscripts of the law, ofwhich they had perhaps ten or twelve in the closet behindthe curtain, which I opened and examined. They wouldsell moderns, but I could not get them to name a pricefor the old one.The old rabbi asked earnestly after Samaritans in alllands. There seems to be a strong mournful anxiety onthe part of this miserable remnant, to hear of others onthe broad earth's surface, who believe in the worship ofGod on Mount Gerizim. They inquired if there wereany Samaritans in America, and told us there were somein France and England. But in this they were deceived.Before bidding them farewell, I asked the youngerrabbi to read to me from the old manuscript of the law.He read fluently. I desired to hear but one part of thewriting, since in all others it is similar to the Jewish version. In the portion of Exodus, which in our version isthe twentieth chapter, I found the Samaritan addition tothe Decalogue, " Thou shalt worship the Lord thy Godin Mount Gerizim. "There are now no remains of the ancient Samaritantemple on the mountain. Later structures probably displaced the older, and all alike have disappeared. Nevertheless the Samaritans still regard the temple site as holy,and worship with their faces toward it. There are lessthan two hundred of them, as I learned in Nablous, andprobably no others in the world. These few retain theancient customs, and offer their annual sacrifices onGerizim.336 SHUT IN .Our bucksheesh on leaving was not satisfactory to therabbi. I was sorry, but confident that it would havebeen no more so if ten times as great, I bade him goodnight, and we moved down the narrow streets now lit bythe moon. As we approached the gateway, still somehundred feet distant, we saw its huge valves swing shut,and when we reached it all was silent and deserted .It was a very neat trick, but it did not succeed.I shouted for the guard, but no guard came. Then Ihammered on the guard-house, and two soldiers madethemselves visible, rubbing their eyes as if just arousedfrom sleep.I did not speak to them, lest my dignity should therebysuffer in their estimation. I addressed our guide, " Tellthem I am Braheem Pasha, an American, and if the gateis not opened I shall send for the governor himself to letme out."The guide himself seemed astounded at the dignity ofthe man he was leading about, who thus talked of sending for a governor to open the doors of the city. He repeated it, with illustrations and additions.The soldiers looked into my face inquiringly, and I dida little English vociferation , which produced its effect."What does he say?" said a sub-officer, putting hishead out of the guard-house."He says he's a sultan," replied the soldier." Perhaps he is, and you'll find it out to-morrow," saidthe sub, springing to the gate and swinging it open, thenbowing very respectfully with his hand on his forehead,closely imitated by the other two, who began to be frightened about their feet. It was worth the piastres wethrewto them, as we went out, to see their total change of demeanor.The neighborhood of Nablous was in a very disturbedcondition, and the Pasha of Jerusalem. who had beenSAMARIA. 337some days here quelling disturbances among the surrounding Bedouins, was said to be a prisoner in the city, fearing to return to his own place.We left in the morning for Sebastich, the ancient Samaria, distant an hour and a half, by a winding and pleasant road over the hills, bordered with many flowers. Wefound the people there as rude as they are accustomedto be.The site of Samaria is the long ridge of a lofty hill,commanding a magnificent prospect. On the westernend of this are now the remains of a great gateway,which is visible from the Mediterranean. Thence a triplerow of columns, of which a hundred and two yet stand,seems to have swept around the hill, as if the colonnadeof a great street. It is eleven hundred paces from thewestern gate to a point where probably the eastern gatostood. Whether the colonnade went quite around thehill, it is now impossible to say. Other columns andruins are visible in various parts of the hill, the principalof which is the Church of St. John the Baptist, nowused as a mosk, in which they show the tomb of NebyYeye, which being interpreted means, the Prophet John.The relics of knightly days, visible in the walls of thechurch, sufficiently establish the date of this building,which is a stately and imposing structure.We sat on the summit of the hill, which commands afine view of the surrounding country, and read the passages of holy writ relating to the city of Omri, madespecially interesting to us by the history of Elijah andElisha. The people gathered around us, and broughtcoins to sell, of which we purchased a large quantity.A short distance from Samaria, we passed throughBurka, a village at the opening of a narrow mountainravine with high, steep sides. The path followed upthe bed of the stream, the village guarding its outlet.15338 A PISTOL BALL.I had remained behind the party with Whitely andAbd-el-Atti, and we were now riding on fast to overtakethem. As we passed through the village, a volley ofstones came down the hill from the left and nearly unhorsed me. Without pausing an instant, only looking upto see the crowd of men and boys who had thrown them,Whitely and myself turned our horses up the hill . Hetook them on the right and I on the left, dodging theirmissiles as we advanced, our strong horses going up thesteep rocks like goats.Seeing our determination they desisted, and when wereached the platform on which they had been standing,we found only women left, and they assured us the assailants were only boys. We knew better, but were forcedto return unsatisfied , taking the narrow and steep lanesof the village to the foot of the hill, and again enteringthe pass to proceed on our way.We had not advanced beyond our former position,when another volley came down, with greater force thanbefore. If one had struck me, I had not been here towrite this. It would have killed me then and there.This was no child's play, and now we saw the rascals farup the hill-side, on the crags, where they supposed themselves safe. I pointed a pistol at them, and they laughedderisively, and sent down a shower of stones. Humannature couldn't stand that, and I fired. They believedthemselves out of reach of ball, but an eight-inch Colt isa terrible weapon to carry. The conical ball went whistling over their heads, and split a piece off from a rock, ahundred feet above them. It was the first, last, and onlytime, in all my travels in the East, that I had occasion touse a deadly weapon, and I think it produced a goodeffect here. I never lost an opportunity of impressingthe Arabs with the perfection of American and Englishweapons, and the danger of attacking any one of theJEZREEL. 339armed Franks. I think the lesson of that ball not lost, andunder the circ*mstances, I should probably not have regretted if it had written its lesson in the flesh of one ofthem. As the chips of stone fell rattling among them,they retreated with a howl of dismay, and we rode onin peace.We camped that night at Jenin, on the plain of Jezreel.Foxes wailed and barked all night around the tents. Inthe morning, we visited the fountain in the valley, sawthe women filling their water-jars, and heard their pleasant voices, and then rode on.At Jenin, we were on the great plain of Jezreel, whichis, in fact, a branch of the still greater Esdraelon, towardwhich our course now lay. Two hours and a quarter overa dead level most of the way, brought us to a solitarytower among some ruins and a few mud huts, which isnow known as Zerin, a corruption of the ancient Jezreel.The party ofgentlemen from Scotland, increased to four,besides one of the resident missionaries at Jerusalem,were now in company with us, and our route lay togetherfor several days. We climbed the huge square tower bya crumbling staircase, and then on each other's shoulders,to the edge of the battlements, from which the view wasvery fine and very interesting.Jezreel was the city of Ahab, and it was not a little interesting, in this spot, to read the story of the vineyard ofNaboth, and endeavor to locate it.This was not so difficult as might be imagined.The hill on which the present Tower of Jezreel stands,is sufficiently marked to show the probability that thewatch-tower was here, from which the watchman sawJehu when he came up from the eastward, recognized hisfurious driving, and reported it to Joram and Ahaziah,who were in the palace. But the field of Naboth washard bythe palace, and it is said that when the two kings840 MOUNTAINS OF GILBOA.went out to meet Jehu, who was rapidly approaching,they found him " in the portion of Naboth, " an indicationthat it lay cast of the palace, from which direction Jehuwas coming from Ramoth-Gilead.But the great interest in the view from this tower consisted in the mountains that looked down on it. In thecentre ofthe valley, to the eastward but a short distance,we saw the village of Beisan, the Beth-Shan where thePhilistines fastened the body of Saul to the wall, andwhence the valiant of Jabesh-Gilead took it away in thenight, to burn and bury at Jabesh.On the south of the valley, stood the mountains of Gilboa, where the mighty fell, and their shields were castvilely away. The mournful lament of David over Jonathan had a touching interest as we read it aloud here. Tothe westward, was the great plain of Esdraelon, and beyond it Mount Carmel, whence Elijah ran before Ahab tothe gates of Jezreel. On the north, were the beautifulheights ofthe Little Hermon, falling off into the plain ofEsdraelon, and far to the east were the blue hills of Moab.The whole country around us was now of the utmostinterest. On the great plain which we were lookingover, so many battles had been fought from the time.when " the stars in their courses fought against Sisera,"and " the river Kishon swept them away, that ancientriver, the river Kishon, " that the name of Megiddo hadbecome synonymous with a battle-field, in the days ofthevision, ofPatmos.20.Vain and Vazareth .LEAVING Jezreel, we rode on, over the plain, to thesouth-western slope of the hill which I have called LittleHermon, and which is otherwise called Mount Duhy.Here, among a grove of orange-trees and prickly pear,we found a small village, known as Sulem, which is theancient Shunem. Riding on through it, we closed uptogether, and I read aloud the exquisite story of the Shunamite woman, which possessed an interest I never beforefelt, touching as the history is. Carmel lay still overagainst us, whither she rode to the prophet, and whereshe met his servant, with that sublime answer of confidence in God that has comforted many a mourningmother since, “ It is well. ”I never before appreciated the fact that the miracle ofElijah was performed so near the spot where Christ raisedthe widow's son.Ashort ride of half an hour, brought us to Nain, whichlies on the northern slope of Duhy, as Shunem does onthe southern. We rode around the end of the hill, andapproached the village, which still bears its old name,hallowed by the most sacred associations. As we camearound the end of the hill, Tabor, most beautiful ofmountains, spread before us, rising from the plain of Esdraclon,which here swept off to the cast, and standing against thesky in a long, graceful curve. The views of the hill aro342 NAIN.usually taken from the north-west end, representing itnarrow and sugar-loafed, but our present view of its sideexhibited it as a small segment of a circle, of which thearc was the plain.Nain is a small village with remains of an ancient placescattered here and there about it. It is situated on thesteep side of a mountain looking off to Tabor and Nazareth. The village has a few poor inhabitants, but I foundmost interest on the eastern side of it, where the quantityof rock-hewn sepulchres in the hill- side indicated the locality ofthe ancient burial-place. It was toward these, Ibelieved, that they were bearing the young man whenthe voice of him who spoke to earth and the other worldsat the same moment, reached him and recalled him to hismother's affection.We sat down near the fountain, under the houses onthe hill-side. The inhabitants gathered around us withstaring eyes, for a Frankish lady was a curiosity to them,and wherever we went Miriam was sure to attract attention.Moreright, who did the serious for our party, and wasindefatigable in finding illustrations of Scripture truths,called our attention to the various points of interest onthe plain before us. The river Kishon no longer sweptthrough it with resistless current, yet it is so fierce in therainy seasons even now, that the French troops of Napoleon found it as dangerous as did Sisera. Many Arabswere drowned in it at the battle of Mount Tabor, in 1799.One branch ofit came down the valley from the sides ofMount Tabor and another from the other parts of thevalley toward the south and south- east. The whole findsoutlet at Acre, in a strong stream, which, in wet seasons,becomes a torrent.We rode slowly for a little distance across the plain,toward the rocky and precipitous hills which frowned onENDOR. 343the other side, and among which Nazareth lay, invisible tous. But at length the bay horse, Mohammed, ofhis ownnotion, increased his speed, and the chestnut drew upalongside, and then all four went like the wind over theplain of Esdraelon. For three miles of gentle slope wekept up this speed, and hushed down the horses when weapproached the hills. An Arab horse is stopped by alowhiss or hush. If you draw the rein he breaks down onhis haunches and is very likely to pitch you over his head.There was a style of riding that we called the Americanstyle, from the number of our inexperienced countrymenthat we saw going through it. English and French,Scotch and Italian , did the same, but we saw fewer ofthem. When the horse sprang off on the first jump, therider broke his back over the board which stands up behind the saddle, then drawing the rein fiercely, threw hishorse down on his haunches, and went over on his neckbehind the ears. Such is the invariable experience thefirst time a stranger tries an Arab horse.A little below Nain on the hill- side, to the east, we sawEndoor, the ancient Endor. We observed the directionwhich Saul took to reach it before the battle of Gilboa.He doubtless crossed the plain near Beth- Shan, and thenwent over the ridge of Mount Duhy, instead of comingaround, as we had, by the plain, which would have exposed him to the Philistines.We crossed no stream of water between Duhy and thehills near Nazareth. Our course was directly over theplain, which was carpeted with brilliant wild flowers, thevarious shades of the anemone abounding.At the foot of the Jebel Nazareth was a little villagecalled Saleh, and, riding through this, we were under aprecipice which I think no one would expect to mount onhorseback any more easily than the Hudson Palisades. Ipaused in astonishment, and, unable to perceive any344 A HILL- SIDE .gorge, ravine, or sloping place where a path could go, Idoubted Betuni's ability as a guide, and was confirmedin my doubts by Dr. Robinson , whom Moreright nowread aloud. He went by this spot to a pass below, beingassured by his guides that no horse could go up here,though men sometimes did.In our swift ride over the plain we had left Betuni andhis inimitable donkey behind, but they at length overtookus, and Betuni rode straight on."But, Betuni, there is no road here. ""O, yes there is-derb tieb-keteer!""There's a first-rate road, eh? Well, we'll try it. "With a sigh of horror we entered among the piles offallen rock that lay near the foot, and commenced ourwinding, zig-zag process of ascent. On my word ofhonor, I should as soon have thought of riding up thefront of Trinity church as up that hill. I could casierhave ridden up the pyramid of Ghizeh, and after that Iwas ready to pledge Mohammed to carry me up the Bunker Hill monument by the stairway at a full run.It was a wild hill-side. Here and there patches ofbrush and wild flowers found soil among the stones, butthe path was, for the most part, on solid rock. Oftentimes the horses ascended, for thirty feet, a succession ofrocky steps, and the whole ascent, of more than a thousand feet, was accomplished within an angle ofa hundredand fifteen degrees from the level of the plain, or twentyfive from a perpendicular.The view from the summit was grand and beautiful.We sat down on the ground to enjoy it while our horsescropped the low brush and wandered around us. It wasone of the pleasant features of our various halts that wenever had occasion to tie the horses. When I wished todismount and walk, Mohammed followed me everywherelike a dog.NAZARETH . 345The sun was far down when we came within sight ofNazareth, much the most beautiful village in Syria. Itswhite stone houses stand all along the western side of anarrow valley, which falls away to the plain of Esdraelon.This valley we should have come up by going furtheralong the plain.At the upper end of the valley and village was a Greekchurch, under which springs a fountain that flows underground a hundred feet in front of it and then through astone sarcophagus which is sunk below the level of theground. This is the "Virgin's fountain." Close by was agrove of olive-trees among which our tents were pitched,and the flag was fluttering gayly. Water was scarce inNazareth. Every drop that entered this sarcophaguswas dipped out by women who stood crowded around it,filling their large jars by small cups full. So great wasthe crowd that they stood around the fountain all nightin a dense mass, talking in shrill musical voices, and making the night sleepless to us in the tents.We walked down through the village to the convent,which is built on the supposed site ofthe residence oftheVirgin.I had little interest in visiting this spot, and should nothave gone at all but for my desire to procure some supplies from the father superior. It was enough for me tosee the mountains over which the young footsteps of theLord wandered; to know that this sunshine fell on hisfair forehead; that he lay down on these hill- sides, andwatched the changing lights and shades across the plainof Armageddon; that here the angels guarded, and hisFather talked with him. With the locality of his homeI had nothing to do; for though he might have calledthis or that spot his mother's home, he had had nohome, nor where to lay his head. From childhood howas a wanderer. The winds on these bleak hills were15*346 THE VIRGIN'S HOUSE.holy winds; I bared my head to them, and rejoiced tofeel their soft influences over my forehead, since theyhad been accustomed thus to touch his brow. Overthese rocky precipices he roved; on these hill-tops he satdown and studied the sky, beyond which he knew was hishome and throne; here he read the brilliant page of thenight, and talked with star-light as the messenger of hisFather.All this I felt, and it was but a mockery of feeling afterthat to be led to the kitchen of the Virgin Mary in therock behind the spot where her house stood, or to beshown the place ofthe annunciation.Nevertheless the old church was curious; and therewere some old things in the chapel that repaid one forthe visit. There was a curious broken column hangingfrom the roof of the Grotto of the Annunciation, and ahewn passage-way through the rock behind it led to thekitchen.The house of the Virgin once stood over this grotto;and there are traditions, which every one has heard, of itshaving gone hence to Loretto, which can be found intheir proper place.We found the superior in his room. He was a finelooking man, with a long, black beard, lying on hisbreast. He received us warmly; and after an hour's conversation with him, I ventured to ask him for the suppliesthat we were in need of.They were rather curious supplies to inquire for at aconvent; but I was not disappointed. We had been assured in Jerusalem that the delicious Lebanon wine whichwe found there could be procured in any quantity at Nazareth; and relying on this, we brought no supplies of wine with us. Our claret and Marsala had lasted us till thisday; but we had finished the former at luncheon, and thelast bottle of the latter was for the dinner-table; and weHOSPITALITY. 347did not dare trust ourselves to travel with no reliancebut the water of the country.The worthy father told me that wine was very scarcein Nazareth, good wine particularly so; but he had asmall quantity in the convent, of which I should have atleast enough to last us to Tiberias, where he had procuredit, and where we could find plenty.After dinner that evening, as I stood among the olivetrees in front ofthe tent looking down into the valley at thelaughing crowd of women, whose voices rang like home.music around me, two lay brothers of the Franciscansarrived with a large basket between them, containing agallon bottle of capital wine, a quart of arrakee, and oneold sealed bottle marked with the familiar wax and titleof golden Muscat. The latter was a bottle evidentlypresented to the good fathers by some wealthy traveler, and I had not the heart to accept it. I sent it backwith my thanks; but fee or reward the brothers whobrought it protested they would not accept. I pressed apiece of money on each of them, and sent my heartythanks and farewell to the superior. May he be longpreserved to preside over the Convent of the Annunciation.and welcome travelers to his hospitality!I know not to what I should attribute the kindness Ialways experienced from the monks and brothers of theTerra Santa. Other travelers have found them distantand reserved, and have described them as hospitable onlyfor the sake of money. It was never so with me. Probably my frank manner of addressing them, a free andeasy style of assuring them, that though I was a Protestant, I had yet a profound reverence for Holy Land, andan affectionate regard to them as the custodians of itsholiest places; and, in short, a way of claiming friendshipwith them on the score of common Christianity, madethem feel more kindly toward me than they feel toward348 HILL ABOVE NAZARETH.men who eye them with suspicion or contempt, and converse with them in tones that indicate not only their incredulity, but also their belief of the insincerity of theirinformants. In Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Nazareth, Ifound the kindest treatment, the pleasantest welcome;and I envied the good men their calm lives, and the prospect before them of slumber in holy soil.Early next morning I climbed the hill of Nazareth,back of our tents, before sunrise, and getting to the topof a Mohammedan wely, or tomb, sat down and saw themorning advance over the grandest panorama of mountains in the world.Eastward lay Tabor, its base hidden by the high bluffsup which we climbed the day previous, its summit on thesky just where the sun was coming up. Then the blueline of the hills of Moab went along the south-easternhorizon, and Little Hermon and Gilboa, reaching to MountCarmel on the south, and Carmel sweeping away to theblue Mediterranean on the south-west. The sea was thewestern horizon, and north-west and north werethe snowypeaks of Lebanon.Within this horizon line lay, east of us, the depressionof the Sea of Galilee, the sea itself not visible, and thevalley of the Jordan stretching away southward. Endorand Nain, this side of Little Hermon, and Jezreel visiblebeyond it. Shunem lay behind the hill. The ancientMegiddo and Taanah, on the broad plain of Esdraelon,with here and there a mirror-like patch of water in thebed of the river Kishon. The harbor of Haifa, withvessels at anchor, was visible to the west. Tyre andSidon I could not see, but Cana of Galilee was doubtlessone of the villages near us on the north, and Sefurich,last city of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem.The centre of all these was Nazareth, the city of thechildhood of the Lord, where, in after years, the peopleA MOURNING SCENE . 349led him to the brow of the hill, on which their city wasbuilt, with intent to cast him down. The Mount of Precipitation is pointed out at two miles from the village,overhanging the deep valley of Esdraelon, but it is muchmore probable that a precipice within the city, not farfrom the convent, is the place where that event occurred.The other is certainly not the hill on which the city wasbuilt.While I sat on the hill, Moreright came up and joinedme. Whitely was not given to early rising, and missedthe scene.It was still and calm as a Sunday morning in the country at home. The voices of the women at the fountaincame up to us with surprising clearness, though we werea thousand feet from them. A few rods nearer to us, alittle way from the tents, was a grave-yard, connectedwith the Greek church at the fountain, and in it I hadseen two women sitting over a grave, croning to oneanother a lament. I could hear the very words of it nowon the hill- top. One, and another, and another woman cameout of the village and joined them, till the circle becamelarge, and the lament exceedingly solemn and sad. Theysang more of a tune than I had been accustomed to hearfrom eastern women, and at length they rose and formeda large circle around the two chief mourners. Therewere forty persons in the circle. The two within continued the lament, going around the circle and facing eachone in succession, bowing, and swinging a white cloth inthe hand, and occasionally the entire company responded.The perfect time which they kept in the responses made.the forty voices like one. This continued for a half hour,and until Miriam, whomI had left asleep in her tent, cameout to look at them. As she approached, their griefgaveway to curiosity, and they broke up the ring and surrounded her. One examined her hat, another her shawl,350 A MADONNA FACE.her shawl-pin, and other ornamental articles of dress.They pinched her cheeks, and patted her on the back, tointimate approbation, and, in fact, made a general inspection of herself and her wardrobe, to all which she submitted with much amusem*nt.After we were in the saddle, we rode down to the springto have a last look at the women of Nazareth, who were,as a class, much the prettiest that we had seen in the East.As we approached the crowd, a tall girl of nineteen advanced toward Miriam and offered her a cup of water.Her movement was graceful and queenly. We exclaimedon the spot at the Madonna-like beauty of her countenance.Whitely was suddenly thirsty, and begged for water, anddrank it slowly, with his eyes over the top of the cupfixed on her large black eyes, which gazed on him quiteas curiously as he on her. Then Moreright wanted water.She gave it to him, and he managed to spill it so as to askfor another cup, and by the time she came to me she sawthrough the operation; her eyes were full of fun as shelooked at me. I laughed outright, and she joined me inas gay a shout as ever country maiden in old Orangecounty. I wished for a picture of her. A Madonna,whose face was a portrait of that beautiful Nazareth girl,would be " a thing of beauty, " and " a joy forever. "Over the hills to Tabor. Oak groves abounded now.The ground was brilliant with lilies of the field . Onespecimen that I found was the most beautiful flag thatI have ever seen. I suppose it to be the CalcedonianIris. It had three dark, mottled brown petals, sprinkledwith spots of rich purple. Afterward, on the plain of theupper Jordan, we found it plentiful, whence it is knownto the missionaries as the Hooleh lily, a name that I misunderstood at first for Holy lily, and which thus accordedwith our expressed ideas that such a lily might well meritthe praise of Christ.MOUNT TABOR. 351The ascent of Tabor was difficult and dangerous.Miriam rode to the top. A horse in front of her felltwice, and, rolling back, nearly threw the chestnut down,but he stood up bravely, shaking his head at the mishapof his fellow, and though once he slipped on a smoothrock, regained his firm footing in a moment, and atlength reached the top in safety with his rider, who wasthe only one of the party that rode to the summit.When we reached the eastern extremity of the ridge,where ruins abound, our eyes were blessed with the blue,deep beauty of the sea of Galilee.Mount Tabor is the reputed mountain of the transfiguration. It needs but little examination of the account of that event to see that it probably took place onsome more northern hill, and the fact that Tabor was atall times occupied by a fortified city, certainly puts it outofthe question that that scene could have occurred here.Wefound the mount covered with ruins, and at the eastern point a sort of grotto which has once had holy reputation . A solitary Greek monk lives, hermit fashion, onthe pile, guarding it from devils, for there is nothing.here to keep men from.We were two hours from Nazareth to the foot ofTabor, and one hour in ascending it. Its Arabic nameis Jebel e' Tur. It stands about fifteen hundred feetabove the plain of Esdraclon, at the head of that plain.Annual pilgrimages are made here by the Christians ofPalestine, and it is seldom that a day passes withoutmore or less religious visitors resting on its summit.Many splendid churches and chapels have, in formeryears, been erected here in fulfillment of the designexpressed by the disciples.But the summit of Tabor is now a heap of ruins, andthe wild beasts of the plain find refuge on its sides.Two splendid eagles wheeled screaming over our heads352 BATTLES NEAR TABOR.as we sat on the mountain, as if to remind us of thevaliant whose blood had enriched the dust around it.I have already spoken of the battles which have takenplace on the plain of Esdraelon. No place on the earth'ssurface presents a view of so many battle-fields, or as Ishould rather say, of the field of so many battles, as thetop of Mount Tabor.Here Sisera was conquered, and here Gideon put toflight the Midianites, with his small army of chosen men.On the mountains of Gilboa Saul lost his kingdom andhis life, and at Megiddo Josiah fell before PharaohNecho.Many ofthe most bloody battles of the Crusades werefought around the hill, and here, as often before in dayswhen the crown of Jerusalem was verily given by God,Guy of Lusignan, last king of Jerusalem, lost his sceptroand throne in battle with Salah- c'deen.The brilliant career of Napoleon led him across theplain to fight the battle of Mount Tabor, where thegreat soldier, with six hundred men, rescued Kleber andhis fifteen hundred, from twenty-five thousand enemies.Even so late as our day, one of the most celebrated bombardments, that of Acre, in 1840, was at the mouth ofthe great plain, not visible indeed from Tabor, but not sofar distant that its thunders were not perfectly audibleon the hill.Of all these battles, and many others that I have notalluded to, in Hebrew and in Roman times, there wasnone that so deeply interested ine and so occupied myattention, as I sat on the summit ofTabor, and subsequentlywhen I rode across the plain on which it was fought,as that last great battle of the kingdom of Jerusalem,when the possession of the Holy Cross passed from theChristians forever.21 .Holy Crosse.HIERE beginneth the story of the great battle of theCross, wherein that wood which Helena found in the pitnear Calvary, which Heraclius, barefoot and bareheaded,carried on his shoulder into the gates of the Holy City,after that he had regained it from the Persians, whichholy men of many centuries had gathered around withdevoted affection, was lost unto Christians forever.There are, in the golden vials, which the elders spoken ofin the apocalypse hold in their hands, many prayers thatwent up before that wood, and that sanctified it, whetherit were or not the wood of Christ's Passion.I tell the story as I have found and heard it in fragments. The principal historical facts I have verified.abundantly by examination; the incidents I gatheredfrom the monks of the Terra Santa, and especially fromFra Giovanni, my gentle friend, whose brain was a treasure house of fine old legendary lore.It was in the year of grace and peace-woeful year tocall a year of peace-eleven hundred and eighty-seven,that the kingdom ofJerusalem fell. Dark clouds gatheredin the previous year. Dire portents were in the heavens.Earthquakes and terrible tempests shook Jerusalem onher throne of hills. The jealousies of the Knights of St.John and of the Temple, the contests for superiority, andthe rival claims to the kingdom itself, might well make354 REGINALD OF CHANTILLON.Baldwin IV. to believe that his crown was the last crownof Christ, not that of Solomon.Meantime, Yusef Salah-e'deen, the new Egyptian kalif,having made firm his throne in that country, had extendedhis power around Palestine, and was now in Damascus,meditating on a way to excuse himself from a violationof treaties, and an attack on Jerusalem.The excuse was at hand.Reginald of Chatillon, a Knight of the Cross, had cometo Palestine with Louis le Jeune, and joined the forces ofRaymond of Poictiers, Prince of Antioch. Keen as ahawk, and brave as a lion, the young soldier, namelessand of low origin, not only won a name, but, on the deathof Raymond, won his widow Constance and his throne.The stories of his bravery and beauty, sung by the troubadours of those days, were countless, nor was any onemore often mentioned, as stout knight and valiant soldier,than Reginald of Chatillon. His career is the theme fora history. His arm never grew weary of battle, nor didhis sword rust until he was taken prisoner by the Moslems, and kept in chains for years at Aleppo. Releasedat last, he found his wife dead and his son on his throne.He himself gathered around him the most daring andreckless of the Templars, and having, by a second marriage, obtained other castles and possessions, he made itthe business of his life to harass and annoy the Saracenswherever he could find them; and, at length, emboldenedbyhis success, conceived the idea of marching to Medinahand Mecca, and plundering the holy kaaba itself. Withhis hitherto invincible band of warriors, he set out on thisperilous enterprise. They surprised and captured theEgyptian caravan crossing the desert from India, and advanced in triumph to the valley of Rabid, scarcely thirtymiles from Medina, where they were met by an overwhelming force, and routed with terrible slaughter.A GALLANT FIGHT . 355Reginald escaped even here; but Salah- e'deen wasaroused by this sacrilegious undertaking. He swore, byan oath, that could not be violated, that the knight shoulddie and Jerusalem should fall.Baldwin V., the infant successor of the imbecile Baldwin IV. , died. The proud and weak Guy of Lusignantook the throne. His own brother, Geoffrey, on hearingof his succession, exclaimed, " If they made a king outof Guy, they would make a God out of me, if they didbut know me. "Once and again Salah-e'deen advanced into Galilee.Treaties were from time to time concluded, and for a littlewhile observed. But the bold Reginald held himselfaloof from all treaties, and continued to capture Moslemcaravans wherever he could overtake them. At lengththe end came.Raymond, Count of Tripoli, had strengthened himselfin his city of Tiberias, against King Guy, with whom hewas now at enmity. For Raymond had claims to thethrone, which had been disregarded in behalf of Guy ofLusignan. A Moslem army entered Galilee from Damascus, summoned by Raymond to his aid. The GrandMaster ofthe Templars, and the Master of the Hospitalers,with about a hundred and twenty men, were surprisedand surrounded near Tabor.Of the deeds that were done that day, there are recordsin ancient books and songs that make it illustrious amongdays of battle. Overwhelmed by thousands, they heldthe field one long day; nor had any Christian knightthought of leaving that field (save three cowards, ofwhom hereafter), but every man, fighting as if it were hisown battle, fell where he fought, and died on the plain.They exhausted their quivers, and drewthe reeking shaftsfrom their own bodies to hurl them back on the foe.They lost their lances, and, wrenching the spears of the356 BRAVE KNIGHT!Saracens from their bleeding sides, died piercing theenemy with the last thrust of his own javelin. One byone they went down on the bloody field, until, whenthe Master of the Hospitalers himself had fallen, oneKnight of the Temple remained on the field, alone, ofallthat gallant company, to fight the battle of the Lord.Jacques de Maillé, mounted on his white charger, stilllived, and still his battle-axe flashed death in the closingranks of the foc. " Ha! ha! St. Jacques for the HolyCross," he shouted, as he hewed his way hither andthither through the hosts of Moslems, who now believedthat he was the very St. George, who, the Christiansboasted, came down to fight their battles." That for the Sepulchre!" and a tall Saracen wentdown, with crushed brain, among the hoofs of the horses;"that for the good Saint James," he shouted, as theleader of his enemies fell headless before the sweep ofhis falchion; " and that for holy Jacques, my patronsaint," as with his blade he made in the air the sign ofthe cross, cleaving, as he brought it downward, the head,even to the chin, of a Saracen, as if he would make thusa socket for the holy sign to stand in."That, for the cross! That, for Jerusalem! That, forKing Guy! and that—and that—and that, for Jacques deMaillé! IIa, ha, St. Jacques, holy Cross! And that forthe dead lady of my love, Marguerite-may God havemercy on her soul!"The white horse staggered, as a javelin went throughhim from beneath, and now plunged forward, bearing hisbrave rider to the ground.Nothing daunted, the knight sprang to his feet, waving his axe around his head, and shouting the war-cry ofthe Templars, as the steel went crushing through thedense flesh that gathered around him. They lay, heapedup to his knees, a hideous gasping pile, life gurgling outTHE GATHERING ARMY. 357of their lips through blood, while the living shrank backaghast, forming a dismayed circle around him, and silencetook possession of the scene. Then De Maillé, bleedingfrom twenty wounds, worn out with the labor of killing,fell on his knee, and murmuring a prayer, died as a braveknight should die, with his arm stretched out to heaven,and his face to his astounded foc.The Moslems rushed in on him, tore his armor topieces, and divided it among themselves, as relics of abrave man. They even mutilated his body, and preserved portions of it for talismanic purposes, such wastheir respect for his prodigious valor. *This battle occurred, May 1st, 1187.Salah-c'deen now advanced into Galilee with eightythousand horsem*n. The imminent danger which threatened the kingdom united all the Christian knights.Even Raymond of Tripoli obeyed the summons of Guyto all Christians to assemble at Sephouri, north of Nazareth about five miles, now called Sefurich.While the armies were gathering here, Salah-c'deenattacked Tiberias, and captured the city. The citadelheld out against him, defended by Raymond's bravewife.Fifty thousand Christian troops were gathered at thefortresses of Sephouri. Had they remained there to waitthe coming of Salah-o'deen, the fate of the world hadbeen different. Raymond strongly counseled it. Hopointed, as an evidence of his good faith in the advice, tohis wife now in prison at Tiberias, to whose rescue hewould gladly march, but that he believed it fatal to thehopes of Jerusalem to advance on the plain with this

• Quidam verò, ut fama ferobat, ardentius caeteris movebatur, et

abscissis viri genitalibus, ca tanquam in usum gignendi reservare doposuit, ut vel mortua membra, si fieri posset, virtutis tantae suscitarenthaeredem. Collection of Bongars, p. 1151. Cited by Michaud.358 RAYMOND AND THE GRAND MASTER.army, to raise which had exhausted the powers of thekingdom.The grand-master of the Templars, who, two monthsbefore that day, had fled from the field of Tabor, andwith two of his knights, alone survived the slaughter thatwas ended with the fall of De Maillé, called Raymond atraitor to his face, and ridiculed his advice."I swear, before God and man, that I am willing tolose Tripoli, and all that I possess on earth, if we mayonly secure the safety of the holy city, " said Raymond."We have seen wolves in sheep's clothing," sneeredthe grand-master of the Templars."I call him who died on the cross to witness my sincerity," said the Count of Tripoli."The name of Mohammed would sound better on thelips of a traitor, " said the Templar.To this Raymond, nobly resolving not to open a privatequarrel then, made no reply. Evil counsels prevailed,and the army advanced toward Tiberias. All the noblesand knights, except the Templar, agreed with Raymond,but Guy yielded to him, and they advanced with a certainty of defeat and death.To the north-east of Tabor, on the left of our path thatday to Tiberias, is a great plain, above which rises a conspicuous hill, known as the Mountain of Christ's Sermon,or the Mount of Beatitudes. The Arabs called it inthose days, as now, Tell- el-Hattin. This hill covered theleft of the Christian host as they advanced.The Moslems were on the heights that crown the western bank of the sea of Galilee, north of Tiberias, and werescattered through all the passes and defiles, so that assoon as the Christians were fairly advanced on the plain,the great number of the enemy, and their skill as horsem*n, enabled them to surround the army of Guy, andpour on them unceasing volleys of arrows.THE BATTLE. 359It was the morning of July 4th, 1187, that the Christians advanced over the plain. Annoyed by the shafts ofthe Saracens, and their constant sallies on both flanks,they yet advanced steadily to the middle of the plain, intending to cut their way through the ranks of the enemy,and gain the shore of the sea.It was here that Salah-e'deen came down on them likea thunderbolt, at the head of twenty thousand horsem*n.It was one of the most terrible charges on record. Butthe Christians, closing up their ranks, received it as therock receives the sea, and it went back like the foam.Now high up among the Christian host, the Holy Crossitselfwas elevated, and men knew for what they were tofight and die. Around it, to use the words of Salah- e'deenhimself, they gathered with the utmost bravery and devotion, as if they believed it their greatest blessing, strongest bond of union , and sure defence. The battle becamegeneral. On all sides the foe pressed the brave knightsand their followers. The latter fell by hundreds, fromexhaustion and thirst, for they had been short of breadand water for a week.Twice did Salah-e'deen* repeat that tremendous charge,penetrating into the ranks of his enemies, and fightinghis way out again without breaking their array.Night came down on the battle-field while its fate wasyet undetermined , and they rested for the morrow.What wild, despairing prayers went up to God beforethe Cross of Christ that night, we may not know, untilthose vials of the elders shall be opened.Long before day, by the admirable disposition of hisarmy, Salah-e'deen had decided the battle even before itwas fought.

• It is difficult to tell from the expressions of the chroniclers, whether

Salah-e'deen led these charges in person or not, although the inferencewould seem to be that he did.360 THE BATTLE.But he had not decided how many of his host were tobe slain on the soil of Galilee by the swords of the Christians.As the day advanced, the two armies beheld each other.Salah-e'deen waited till the sun was up, and then "thesons of heaven, and the children of fire, fought their greatbattle. "The Christians fought as they were accustomed. Theirheat and thirst were terrible, and increased by the enemysetting fire to the dry bush and grass, from which thestrong wind blew a dense smoke toward them, nearlysuffocating them.The scene was like a very hell; knights and devils contending among flames. Again and again, the bands ofTemplars threw themselves on the Saracen front, and endeavored to pierce their way through its steel wall, toreach the citadel of Tiberias, but in vain. The cry ofthebattle-field went up, among smoke and flame, before God,and he permitted the end to come. " Holy Cross!"shouted the grand-master of the Templars, as he foughthis way toward the banner of the kalif, followed by hisbrave knights. "Raymond for the Sepulchre!" rang overthe clash of steel in the front of the battle. " IIa! Ha!Renaud Renaud - Chantillon - Carrac- No rescue!Strike, strike!" shouted the proud retainers of the oldknight, who were revelling in the blood of the conflict.-By this time, in the centre of the field, the fight hadgrown thickest and most fierce around the True Cross,which was upheld on a slight eminence by the bishop ofPtolemais. Around it the bravest knights were collected.There, Geoffrey of Lusignan, brother to the king, performed miracles of valor, and the Knights ofthe Temple,and the Knights of St. John, vied with each other inbravery. As the fray grew darker, and shafts flew swifteraround them, and one by one they fell down before theST. GEORGE! 361holy wood, the stern, calm voice of the bishop was heard,chanting "De profundis clamavi ad te Domine, Domineexaudi vocem meam!" in tones that overpowered the dinof battle, and reached the ears ofthe dying even as theydeparted. Nearest of all to the cross, was a man wielding a sword which had already done fearful work on theSaracens. The sign on his back was not sufficient to distinguish him from other soldiers, but they who fought byhis side well knew the brave precentor of the Sepulchre,Bishop of Lydda, the city of St. George. How manysouls he had sent to hell that day it is impossible to relate. He and four others remained around the old Bishopof Ptolemais, who was fainting for loss of blood; formany arrows had pierced him, and his life was fast failing. " Bohemond for the Cross! " shouted the youngPrince of Antioch, as he swept the Paynims down by" St. George! St. George!" shouted the holybishop, his bright eye flashing around him. He caughtsight of the tottering Cross, as the Bishop of Ptolemaiswent down dead. Springing toward it, he seized it withhis left arm, and with prodigious strength threw himselfinto the faces ofthe foe. Thelightning is not more fierceand fast than were the blows of his sword, as he hewed hisway along, followed by Bohemond ofAntioch, and Renaudof Sidon, and one unknown Knight of the Temple. Thelatter pressed forward to the side of the brave bishop.Bohemond and Renaud were separated from them, butthe two fought on alone, in the midst of thousands oftheir enemies.scores.At length the unequal contest was well-nigh over.The eye of Salah-e'deen was fixed on the dense massthat surrounded the cross. He smiled bitterly as he sawit trembling and ready to fall from the hands of the gallant bishop, who held it with his left arm, whilo with hisright he cursed the Infidels with the curse of steel, that16362 LAST KNIGHT AT THE CROSS!damned them then, there, and forever. Well might theSoldan believe that as long as he held that holy wood, solong his mighty arm would remain strong, and blood replace in his brave heart the floods that issued from hiswounds. But he grew faint at length, and yet shoutingin clear tones, " St. George! St. George!" knelt down bythe cross, shielded by the stout arm of the brave Templar, who fought above him, unwounded and undaunted,though he now found himself last knight at the cross ofhis Lord.One glance of his eye over the plain told him that allwas lost; and nothing now remained for him but to diebravely for God and for Jerusalem. Far over the field,above the summit of the Mount of Transfiguration, hebeheld the heavens opened, and saw the gates of pearl.Clear and distinct above the clash of arms and loud criesof the field of blood, he heard the voices of the angelssinging triumphant songs. So he took courage as thedarkness ofthe battle gathered blacker around him.For now, as the Bishop of Lydda fell prostrate on theground, the cross had nearly fallen, and the Paynims,raising a shout of triumph, rushed in on their solitary foc.But they rushed through the gates of hell, sheer downthe depths of death, to everlasting perdition. Downcame the flashing axe on head, and shoulder, and limb;down through eyes, and chin, and breast; so that whenthey went to Hades in that plight, their prophet had difficulty in recognizing them even as of mortal shape.The dead lay all around him. He trod down his ironheel in their faces, and crushed it in their chests, andlaughed as he dealt those more than human blows with cool,calm aim, but lightning force and velocity. No soundbut the clashing steel was heard in this part of the plain,where for a while it appeared as if the saint of the fallenTHE CROSS IS LOST. 363bishop were standing over him in arms for the cause ofthe Sepulchre.But every inch of his armor bristled with arrows thatwere drinking his blood; a well sped javelin had madea hideous opening in his throat, and the foam from hislips was dropping red on his steel breast-plate.Looking up once more, far over hill and plain, he sawagain the battlements of heaven, and a shining companythat were approaching even to his very front. The battle-field was visible no longer; but close beside him thedivine eyes of the Virgin Mother were fixed on him withthe same look that she of old fixed on that cross whenholier blood than his ran down its beam. But that wasnot all that he saw.There was a hideous sin on the soul of the Knight oftheCross. To expiate that sin he had long ago left the fair landofFrance, where he had lordly possessions, to become anunknown brother of the order of the Temple. And nowthrough the fast-gathering gloom he saw the face of thatone so beloved and so wronged, as she lay on the verybreast of the matchless Virgin; and the radiance of hercountenance was the smile of heaven. Though he saw allthis, the gallant knight fought on, and his swift falchionflashed steadfastly above the mêlée. But then there wasa sudden pause: his lost love lay warm and close on hisbreast, lay clasped in his arms, on his heart of hearts!He murmured a name long forbidden to his priestly lips,and then, waking one instant to the scene around him, hesprang at the throat of a Saracen, grasped it with his stiffening fingers, and the soul of the Paynim went out withhis, as he departed to join the great assembly of the soldiers of the Cross. So the cross was lost on the field ofGalilee.Guy of Lusignan, eighth and last king of Jerusalem,with a small band of faithful knights, still held his ground364 FATE OF THE CROSS.on the hill of Hattin. When the cross vanished from thefield, a wail of anguish rose from all the plain, and quivered in the air at the very gates of the celestial city.Raymond of Tripoli and Renaud of Sidon cut their waythrough the ranks of Saracens and escaped around thefort of Mount Tabor to Ptolemais. All the rest thatwere living fell into the hands of Salah-e'deen; and thenext day, with his own sword, he executed his threatenedvengeance on Reginald of Chantillon, hewing him downto the ground, and leaving him to be despatched by hisfollowers. The fearful sacrifice which he then made ofthe Templars; how they crowded to it, and others soughtto be included in the martyrdom, is a well known pageof history. Not so the statement of an old chronicler,that " during the three following nights, when the bodiesof the holy martyrs were lying still unburied, a ray ofcelestial light shone over them from above. "*The cross which was lost on this field was never regainedby Christians. It remained for some time in the custodyof Salah-c'deen, and a few years later, that is in A.D. 1192,the same chronicler describes the visits of pilgrims to Jerusalem, where they were allowed by the kalif "to havea sight ofthe holy cross."Laterthan this I have not attempted to trace its history.I have not detained the reader on Mount Tabor anylonger than I rested there myself. In fact so interestingwas the view that I found great difficulty in tearing theparty away.The descent of the mountain, while it was much morerapid than the ascent, was no less dangerous. One ofthehorses had a bad fall, and I came near breaking my ownneck twice before I reached the foot.We rode slowly across the plain toward the sea ofGalilee, which, of course, was not within sight, on account

• Geoff. de Vinsauf, ch. v. + Geoff. de Vinsauf, ch. xxxiv.

BEDOUINS. 365of the depth at which it lies in its basin, below the surrounding table-land.As we approached the brow of the sharp descent ofthe basin, not yet looking over it to the blue sea, we sawtwo Bedouins riding swiftly from the northward down theslope of the ridge, as if to intercept us. Whitely andmyselfwere half a mile in advance of the party, riding onat a fast walk, anxious to see the waters ofthe lake. Wedid not pay special attention to the Arabs except to remark the flashing of their spears in the sunlight, whichwe saw at more than two miles' distance, but when theypaused in the road before us, just where it breaks offfrom the plain and begins to fall toward the sea, welooked to our pistols, loosened them quietly in our shawls,and though neither of us intimated any apprehension oftrouble to the other until afterward, yet we both believedthat they intended an attack.They stood, one on each side of the path, their horses'heads facing us, and their spears leaning toward eachother, so as to form a sort of arch, high enough for us topass under. Our walking pace we had increased to aslow gallop, and as we came up with them we took careto let our arms be very conspicuous. Whether they hadintended an attack I can not say. If they had, the arrayof pistol - handles was too alarming. I saluted one as Icame up, and Whitely the other, with the Syrian Marhaba (blessing on you) , and they replied with the same,reining back their horses and giving us free way to go bywithout breaking our gallop.Not wishing to leave them on the road for the annoyance ofthe rest of the party, I wheeled and rode back tothem, with an authoritative " Enta men?" (who are you?)Their reply was satisfactory. They were looking forblood revenge. An errand on which most Arabs are occupied all their lives.366 THE SEA OF GALILEE.While I talked with them, a boy came up swiftly, onfoot, armed with a gigantic Mameluke pistol, and informed them that he had seen a party of Bedouins overtoward Mount Tabor, whereupon they went off at a gallop, leaving us with the boy. He told us that his brotherhad been shot the day previous, and these men were inpursuit of his murderers, as he and all the tribe alsowere. Their tents were down by the lake, two miles below Tiberias.By this time the whole party had come up, and werode on a hundred yards to the brow ofthe steep part ofthe basin. There, far down below us, supremely beautiful, lay the sea of Galilee, a sapphire set in emeralds.We were five hundred feet above it, and the descentwas steep and difficult. Right underneath us was Tiberias,with its ruined walls and falling houses, a melancholy wreckof former beauty and splendor. Our tents were pitchedon the shore just outside ofthe walls on the south side ofthe city. The blue water rippled up to the edge of thecanvas, and the path of the rising moon lay across it, asif we could see the very footsteps of the Lord.We walked along the shore till nearly midnight, throwing pebbles into the sea, and watching the circles spreadingover the lake. What scene on earth's surface can be imagined more divinely beautiful than moonlight on thesea of Galilee. The hushed air seemed heavy with thepresence ofangels. The very heavens bent down, as ifthey loved the spot, and the stars came low to look ontheir own thrones reflected in its calm surface..In times of tempestuous sorrow, such as all men haveknown, I had dreamed of the sea of Galilee. In hoursof passion, such as human nature is liable to fall into, Ihad hushed my heart by the fancied voices of the windover its waves. In feverish visions, when the phantomsof disease made my brain wild, and all manner of hideousPEACE BE STILL! 367imaginings came to frighten and madden me, when thefaces of friends assumed the features of devils, and eventhe best beloved of faces put on a worse than Medusa-likecountenance, I have calmed the fever and restored thehealthy action of my brain, by simple firmness in thinkingof the murmur of the ripples that broke on its beach,whose music, I have often thought, must be nearer thesounds of heaven than any other this side the upper blue.And now I found it even so; and as we sat down by theshore of the sea that night and listened in silence to itsvoice on the pebbles at our feet, all human passions andemotions were at rest, our souls were hushed, the " peace!be still" of his voice was audible as of old, and our heartsheard it and were calm.Let him who ridicules the idea that there is hallowedground, sit down by the sea of Galilee in the light of themoon and stars, and if his soul denies the influences thatare on the sea, and in the air, around, above, and withinhim, I am content that he shall take his verdict. Theman does not live that can laugh at the story of the Passion, seated in Gethsemane, nor who can forget the blessing of the pure in heart on the moonlit shore of Gennesaret.WhenI was a boy in the up-country (how often I wrotethat same sentence, and uttered it aloud in Holy Land—it was so strange that I-that boy-was wandering amongBedouins in the land of the Lord) , when I was a boy, therewas an old man, a good and kind old man, who was accustomed to come once a week to the old house, and alwaysto take me on his lap, and, in a broad Scotch tongue, tosay to me, " Wully, Wully" (yes, I was the Willy, I, theblack-bearded horseman-whom the Arabs knew as Braheem Effendi-was the boy Willy, who looked in wonderment at the old man who had come from " ayant thescas"); he would say, " Wully, when ye're grawn to be368 THE OLD MAN'S MEMORY.a mon, mayhap ye'll go a wanderin' up and doon thehills of the warld. But doan ye forgit that gin ye'retheersty, there's the sea o' Galilee, and gin ye ' re hungry,there's the loaves that fed feeve thoosand there by thesea, and when ye get tired and tired out, and want tolay your head doon on any stoun and rest it, but thestouns are all hard, there's Heem that sayed on the samesea, Cumeunto me all ye that labor, and are heevy laden,and I wull geeve ye rest.' "Through what long years of wandering my memorywent back to the old man's voice and the old man's face.Long ago he, having well done the labor of living, enteredthe promised rest, and found the sea of heaven broader,and deeper, and fuller than even he had dreamed. Thewild March winds were blowing over his grave, that gravethat holds, as well, the brown locks of his darling Jeannie,Jeannie Stuart of holy memory, and the wail of the tempest among the pine- trees around them does not disturbtheir profound peace. And I-how changed-with forehead already in early manhood marked with care and sorrow, weary long ago, but for the joy of pleasant companyalong the uncertain and varying path of life, I sat by theGennesaret of Galilee on earth and thought of them inthe land of eternal, and holy waters: Galileo beyond Jordan of the Gentiles that are saved!I lay down in my tent to sleep, but the murmur of thewaves invited me, and I could not resist. I stepped outside the tent, and all was silent, still, and gloriously beautiful. The white moonlight lay on the ruined walls ofTiberias, and on our group of tents, and on the blue sea.A dozen Bedouins lay sleeping near the camp fire, andthe servants and muleteers, rolled up in their heavyboornooses, had forgotten the pilgrims.I walked slowly down into the sea. The clear waterflashed like diamonds around me as I lay down in it, andSLEEP. 369it closed over me, and then I floated on the motionlesssurface.After that baptism, I slept such peaceful sleep as noman can know of that has not done even as I.16*22.Shipwrecked on Galilee.WERE you ever cast away on the sea of Galilee?Riding in the railway carriage from Lausanne to LakeNeuchatel one day last summer, I was thoroughly annoyedby a man of the genus American, species ass, sub- speciesdandy, who had seen a part of Europe, and, in virtuethereof, was acting the courier to two ladies and a gentleman of quiet demeanor, late arrivals from the West, whowere seriously impressed with the young man's " traveledaccomplishments. " I was talking quietly enough on myside with an English friend, but my vis-à-vis, for the dandysat facing me, was one of those people who demand theaudience of all within earshot. IIe talked me down withhis wonderful adventures in Milan and Venice, Viennaand Berlin, manifestly thinking us excelled in greennessonly by his own companions. Miriam was the only otherperson in the carriage, and she was buried deep in a late American paper.I pursued my way as well I was able, talking in the earof my friend, who had been like myself something of awanderer, and, at length, as there was a sudden lull in thestorm ofwords, I heard myself saying aloud, " It wastheday after I was cast away on the sea of Galilee-" Seeing the start of astonishment which the words caused, Ilowered my voice to the end of my remark.SHIPWRECKED ON GALILEE. 371The effect of my observation, however, had been prodigious. It was vain to attempt a continuation of conversation with my friend when such a battery of eyes andmouths were leveled on me, for my countrywomen staredwith their fine eyes as they have license always to do,and the dandy was seized with a collapse of the lowerjaw that was, for the moment, alarming.I looked out of the window-spoke in French to myfriend-did all I could to make them think they were mistaken, and finally took to grunting Arabic, but all invain. My New York elderly gentleman had made ' uphis mind-"Ah-excuse me sir. I think you are an Englishman. ""No, saar.""Ah-but you speak English.""A little.""Ah-I beg pardon sir-but one meets with suchcurious incidents in traveling. I thought I heard youmake such a very singular remark just now. Were youreally ever cast away on the sea of Galilee, sir?"Miriam opened her eyes, looked at him and the ladies,and subsided into quiet as I replied,"Yes, saar.""Upon my word, it is the most curious circ*mstance Ihave ever met with-extraordinary-wife-Susan. Didyou hear this gentleman remark that he had been shipwrecked on the sea of Galilee?""Was it in a steamer, sir?" asked Susan, with more ofwickedness than ignorance in her eyes. And so I was infor it, and she pumped me dry before we reached Soleure, whither we were all bound-and she left me thecomfort of only this reflection, that, until they see this,if they ever do see it, they will imagine their travelingcompanion was Braheem Effendi, a Turk, and the son of a372 THE FISHERMAN'S BOAT.Turk, Moslem and Hajji, whose ignorance about Americait was their delight to enlighten. Susan was pretty,though.There is but one boat on the sea of Galilee. A crazyold craft, built with a high, sharp bow, and a high, sharpstern, carrying one mast and a latteen sail, bent Egyptian fashion, on a long yard. Her model would be wellenough if she were thirty feet long and the same widthas now. But being only about fifteen, and nearly aswide, she is something like a whale-boat shut up twothirds of its length, spyglass fashion, or a tub elongateda little into a two-pointed vessel. But she has the advantage of being very broad, very deep, and very safe.There is no danger of carrying too much sail on her.Canvas being unknown, her sail was a ragged piece ofcotton cloth, of which at least one third was missing inspots, so that the worst that could be apprehended froma gale was a ripping of the rest, and a total " solution ofits continuity." For oars she had one sweep, twelvefeet long, which had wandered over here from Haifa, andanother broken piece of one, the fragment being, say,seven feet long. The boat was built as I had seen boatsin Nubia, where timber is scarce. Much ingenuity hadbeen practiced in putting her together, for her plankingconsisted of small hewn pieces of wood, of various sortsand shapes, roughly but perfectly adapted to theirseveral places and to each other with an ax or similarweapon. It was, in fact, just such a boat as a manwould be apt to build who was set to work to constructone with an axe and some nails for his tools, and a pile ofsawed and split fire-wood for his timber.Immediately on our arrival, we sent to the proprietorof this craft to forbid his departure on any expedition:Our Scottish friends, having arrived a little before us,had already secured the boat, and very kindly sent usBIMON PETER'S SUCCESSOR. 373It is ex- word that there was ample room for all of us.ceeding pleasant to remember the frequent interchangesof courtesy with Dr. Bonar and his party, which continued so long as our routes lay together. Many delicious noonings we had together, when we paused forluncheon on hill-sido or under rock-shadows.The successor of the fishermen of Galilee was a tall,gaunt, hard-featured Arab, or fellah, who had Bedouin.connections, and not one whom we could have selectedfor any resemblance to Peter. He wore a blue shirt,loose drawers, white once, years ago, but woefully muddynow, and a turban that looked like the habitation of colonies of insects. He had two young men, boys rather,for his assistants, that appeared as little likely to grow tothe dignity of apostleship, as he. But who can tell?The camel-driver of Mecca was not less villainous inorigin, and he rules, even now, as no man or God rules thesouls of men, and is obeyed with a devotion that Christians might imitate with benefit. Little did Sheik Ibrahimknow or care for the mighty men of ancient times whohad preceded him, in the humble occupation of fishermen of Galilee. He never heard the voice of the Lordwalking on the waters, nor dreamed, on stormy days, ofthe power that calmed the waves of that sea.In point of fact, Sheik Ibrahim never had been caughtout in a storm, and in all his life passed on the sea he hadnever left the land when there was the faintest shadowof a cloud over head, or more than a child's breath ofwind on the water.But he had fallen into the hands of the Philistineswhen he let his boat to us, for we were no long-shoremen, and were not given to asking beforehand what theweather would be. He brought the boat around thetower, at which the south wall of Tiberias ends in thesea, and as she was too deep to reach the shore, he and374 ON THE SEA.his Arabs carried the gentlemen into the boat. I hadlearned in Egypt to have a horror of just that sort ofpersonal contact, and preferred to wade off myself.Miriam did not wish to go with us, but preferred remaining at the tents, and strolling through Tiberias. Ileft Abd-el-Atti, therefore, with her, and, with Dr. Bonarand two of his party, we made a company of six in theboat, beside the three fishermen.We got away about ten in the morning. The sky wasdeliciously beautiful, and the sea like a dream. Therewas not a breath of air on the water, and the sail hungidly from the yard, so that Sheik Ibrahim, with a glanceof intense satisfaction , at the weather, furled his canvasin his own peculiar style and took to his oars, promisingus a safe and speedy crossing of the deep.We had taken ship to go over to the other side. Ourobject was a sail on the sea, and our intention to explorethe opposite shore. But after our Galileans had toiledhard for one hour, it was manifest that they could notrow us across in four at that rate, for though the sea wasnot more than six miles wide, we had not advanced oneof them as yet. Of the beauty of the scene, however, Ican not say enough, nor can I imagine where those travelers carried their eyes, who have described the scenery ofthe lake as tame or uninteresting. The first great characteristic of it is the deep basin in which it lies. Thisis from three to four hundred feet deep on all sides except at the lower end, and the sharp slope of the banks,which are all of the richest green, is broken and diversified by the wadys and water-courses which work theirway down through the sides of the basin, forming darkchasms or light sunny valleys. Near Tiberias these banksare rocky, and ancient sepulchres open in them, with theirdoors toward the water. They selected grand spots, asdid the Egyptians of old, for burial places, as if they de-THE OUTLET OF THE JORDAN. 375signed that when the voice of God should reach thesleepers, they should walk forth and open their eyes onscenes ofglorious beauty. On the east, the wild and desolate mountains contrast finely with the deep blue lake;and toward the north, sublime and majestic, Hermonlooks down on the sea, lifting his white crown to heavenwith the pride of a hill that has seen the departing footsteps of a hundred generations. On the north-east shoreof the sea was a single tree, doubtless a terebinth, judging from its shape, and this is the only tree of any sizevisible from the water of the lake, except a few lonelypalms in the city of Tiberias, and by its solitary positionattracts more attention than would a forest.The whole appearance of the scene is precisely whatwe would expect and desire the scenery of Gennesaret tobe, grand beauty, but quiet calm. The very mountainsare calm, and if a tempest were abroad on the sea, and apoor fisherman were storm- tossed and at his wit's end withfear, one would suppose he had but to look up at thatlordly head of Mount Hermon, and hear the voice ofthestiller of the storm lingering around its stately summit.A light breeze springing up from the northward, wedetermined to run down the sea to the outlet of the Jordan. Accordingly we shook out the sail, put up thehelm , all the helm there was, and a very poor one (butof that hereafter) , and went down before the wind. Inabout an hour we had run as far south as the falling offof the hills, within a mile of the Jordan. Here the windfailing us, we went ashore on the west bank, and walkeddown to the outlet.For nearly two miles from the outlet, northward, thereare scattered ruins on the bank of the sea, but theseabound mostly at the point where we landed, and wherethe hills retire on both sides of a level spot, on which Ifound many evidences of an ancient city, walls of houses,376 BATHING IN JORDAN.and two fragments of large columns. There is also alargeruin ofa stone building immediately at the outlet, in a pointaround which the water flows as it leaves the sea. One sideof the point is, in fact, the sea and the other the Jordan.The exit of the Jordan from the sea of Galilee is exceedingly beautiful. There is nothing to mark it, nohigh hill or overhanging banks, or trees; but still theclear, bright water, flowing out at first slowly, as if reluctant to leave the holy lake, and then running swiftly, asif in haste to rush downward to the far off Sea of Death,is very beautiful. To enjoy it more perfectly, as I amaccustomed always to do if I have opportunity, I bathedin the lake and the stream, and yielded myself to theirsoft influences.I entered the lake a few rods above the outlet, anddrifted slowly down into the stream. It leaves the lakeby a course nearly due west, narrowing at first to a widthnot exceeding seventy feet, and here it rushes swiftlyalong; but immediately below it spreads out again, andruns deep, and still, and slow.I forded it at the immediate outlet, and found the waterin the deepest part just up to my neck, so that my beardlay in it as I walked for a rod or more. On the oppositeside, around the foot of the lake, the shore was very muchsurf-beaten. The water was bold and deep all along, andthe beach covered with small pebbles, white as snow, andworn by the water to the shape, size, and appearance ofsugared almonds, such as are common in candy shops.The resemblance was so perfect, that a handful of them,which I gathered and brought home, have never failed todeceive any one to whom I hand them.After lingering some two hours or more at this beautiful spot, we found that the boat had come on down, andwas now near us. We returned to her, and directed ourway for home.A STORM ON THE SEA. 377The wind had now freshened from the north-west, andI saw, in three minutes, that Sheik Ibrahim knew as littleabout the boat as he well could. He had never attempted tosail on the wind, and was frightened at the very idea. I tookthe helm out of his hands, trimmed the rags down as wellas I could, and laid her as close as she would go. But itwas a dead failure from the first. We ran three or fourmiles up the west coast in good style, and then therecame down on the sea such a gale as the lake knew intimes of old. The illustration of Scripture which we hadwas worth all the subsequent annoyance that it cost us.It was sudden, swift, and violent. A moment before, wewere sailing along pleasantly over the rippling water, andnow it was lashed to foam by a fierce blast that literallycame down into the basin, and ploughed up the watersinto deep and difficult furrows. I did not believe it possible that the little lake could get up such a sea as nowrolled and tossed us.It was manifest instantly that wo were not going tomake headway against it. I put the helm hard down,but she paid no more attention to it than if it were nohelm. I looked over the stern now for the first time, andto my horror and amazement I saw that it was no helm.I don't know whether she ever had a rudder, but it wasnow only a rudder- post, and nothing more.I rigged out the solitary sweep over the stern, and endeavored to steer with that and keep her head to thewind, but she lay off for the east shore, and rolled andpitched so that we found that on that tack we shouldmake the east side of the lake on the most desolate partof the shore, and that would never do. I shouted toIbrahim to haul down his rag of a sail, and take to theoars; but he was too much frightened to be of anyservice, and the boys were curled up in the bottom of theboat, in a perfect state offatalism.378 TOILING AND ROWING.We were all enjoying the scene; danger there wasnone to any one at all experienced in boating; and therecollection of the storm of wind that once came downupon the lake when He was there to rebuke the wind andthe raging of the water, * and of that night when thedisciples were in the midst of the sea, toiling and rowing,tossed with waves, and His footsteps walking over thewaters calmed them, t occupied our thoughts and ourlips.But we were fast driving out to sea; and, while someof us hauled down the sail, others got out the unequaloars. Kicking up the boys, I made them take hold andpull, threatening them with condign punishment if theydid not obey. They "toiled and rowed, " but we madestern-way, and I began to feel uneasy. The tents wereabout two miles from us, visible on the shore, but I questioned whether we could be seen from them on the roughtsea, with the dark back-ground of the south-eastern hills,and I knew that Miriam would begin to be uneasy as theevening approached.I sprang to the sweep, and pitching the Arab into hisfavorite place in the bottom of the boat, threw myselfdown on it in old fashioned home style. Had the woodbeen a stout ash, I should have sent her shoreward fastenough; but as I lay back, crack went the oar, and overI went, head down and feet skyward, and a sudden increase of wind, one of those outbursts that is always readyto catch a boat in a tight place, took her off like a flash,and away she went before it."Where now?" asked Whitely, with an accent ofdespair."To the devil, certain. ""Profane dog. "

• Luke, viii. 22, and parallel passages.

Matth., xiv. 24, and parallel passages.DOME OF THE ROCK. 179running, to an open area, where he found himself beforea large church. This church he immediately appropriated to the purposes of the Mussulmans, and in theopen space in front of it, on the great rock, Es Sukhrab,founded a building which was displaced fifty years afterward by the Sultan Abd-el-Meluk, who erected thesplendid building which has ever since then stood onthe spot, and is now incorrectly called the Mosk ofOmar. To Mussulmans this is known as El- Kubbetes-Sukhrah, the Dome of the Rock. I have never heardit called by them a mosk, but the great church, to thedoor of which Omar was led, and in which he prayed, isa mosk, and one portion of it, as will hereafter appear, iscalled the praying- place of Omar. From this, doubtless,the misnomer of the central building arose. The latteris, in fact, like the holy places in the great mosks atMecca and Medinah, which are not spoken of as mosksbut as sacred buildings. This is third in the Moslemworld, Mecca being first, and Medinah second. Buthere it should be remembered that the Moslems do notspeak of the Kubbet- es-Sukhrah as the holy place, butthe Mesjid- el- Aksa, which is a name including the entirehill of Moriah as well as the Kubbet- es- Sukhrah and themosk (Jamy)-el- Aksa.On entering the gate we found ourselves in a vast inclosure, oblong in shape, with nearly rectangular corners.The longest sides are north and south; the shorter, eastand west. The length is not far from fifteen hundredfeet, and breadth about a thousand; but the north end ismuch wider than the southern. All this space is sacred;and from even its gates, in former years, the Mussulmanshave driven all Christians and Jews with stones andweapons of death-a practice which they still continue,and from which we were protected only by the presenceof our worthy friend the Bim pasha's colonel and his180 BOOTS .guard, whose bayonets would have been ugly customersfor the Moslems to deal with, especially with the assurance of a bastinado as the inevitable result of an attack.There are several low buildings, colleges, and religiousfoundations of various names, but of no special interest,here and there within the inclosure, especially on thenorthern and western sides. The east wall, which is theeast wall of the city, overhangs the great valley of Jehoshaphat, and the south wall crosses the ridge of Moriah,which extends outside the city for a fourth of a mile further, and beyond the fountain of Siloam . Along part ofthe south wall are large buildings, of which hereafter.In the centre of the inclosure is a platform of pavement,raised above the surrounding ground, and very elegantlyfinished and ornamented. This great terrace, which isfive hundred and fifty feet long by four hundred and fiftybroad, is not precisely in the middle of the area, but issomewhat nearer the western and northern sides. Thispavement is in general about fifteen feet above the surrounding surface of the ground, from which it may bereached by eight flights of steps, three on the west, oneon the cast, two on the north, and two on the south.We approached the north flight, on the western side;and here, before we mounted the last step of the rise, weremoved our boots, replacing them with slippers, withwhich we had provided ourselves.I had brought Ferrajj, my prince of blacks, with me,and handing him my boots, thought no more of them tillI was ready to leave the inclosure, some hours later,when he returned them to me. Not so fortunate weresome of our American friends, who, trusting to the sacredplace, and the strict honesty of the Mohammedans, lefttheir boots on the upper step.them, they were not there.they made, and fierce the American threats they showeredWhen they came back forDivers were the demandsA LOST DONKEY. 381wife and daughter, who wished much to see the Frankishlady. She underwent the usual examination, and wasnot a little interested in their simple manners and theirwonderment.The Bedouin who had brought my note to Miriam, nowdemanded pay for his services, which, notwithstandinghis slowness, we gave him liberally. But no liberalityreaches the heart of an Arab, especially one of this reformed class. He vociferated for more, and when it wasrefused, grew boisterous. Next morning Selim's donkeywas missing. Had it been Betuni's, I should have regarded it as a serious loss to the daily sources of amusem*nt, but Selim's was a very slow donkey, with no specialpoints to interest me in his behalf.I contented myself with backing Selim's application tothe governor of Tiberias for indemnity, the loss beingunder the walls of his city. But we never heard of theanimal again, and charged him to the account of our Bedouin acquaintance.23.The Wine of Tiberias.SUNDAY morning rose on the sea, a calm, still, beautifulmorning, that reminded us of summer Sabbath morningsin the up-country long ago, when the air was quiet and still,when the whistle of the quail came up joyously from thestubble-field; and if you listened at the right momentyou could hear far over the hills and valleys the sound ofthe church bell in the village, musical and clear.I can hardly remember now how that Sunday passed.It was a long, delicious dream. We read over all thepassages of the life of Christ that were connected in anymanner with the sea. We wandered among the gravesof the Jews, close by our tents. Most ofthem are markedwith broken shafts of columns that once supported thearchitecture of old Tiberias. These are carved with Hebrew legends, and lie prostrate on the graves; for here,as elsewhere, the children of Israel are forbidden to erectupright tomb-stones.Toward noon we walked a little way up the hill- side,and sat down under the shadow of a ruined wall, thewall of an ancient Christian church, and listened to a sermon, that was rather a talk, in simple but eloquent language, from our companion, Dr. Bonar.I can not forbear relating an amusing mistake that oneofmy Arabs made while we were sitting together on thehill- side in the morning. We had selected a spot not farCARPETS AND CIGARS. 383distant from the tents, among the ruins of old Tiberias,under the shadow of a high wall, and on the ruins of it.As we gathered here, and just before the doctor commenced the simple service, I told the Arab, who hadcome with Miriam's donkey up the hill, to go back to thetents and bring me a carpet to spread on the ground forher to sit on. He went down, and just as we were commencing to sing a hymn he returned, and handed me, tomy horror, a bunch of cigars. It was impossible to explain the incident to my astonished companions; and Idid not know but our Scotch friends might imagine itcustomary in America to " smoke in meeting. " I wasobliged to rest under the imputation of having sent forcigars till our service was ended, and then informed themthat the Arabic word segada was so like cigara that thestupid fellow had misunderstood me, and thought Iwanted to smoke while the doctor preached.Nearly a mile south of Tiberias, on the lake shore, areseveral hot springs, over which, from time to time, sincethe days of the Roman emperors, bathing-houses havebeen erected. Of those now standing the last was builtby Ibrahim Pasha, of the material which the old city leftlying all around them. The chief bathing- room is inoriental style, a deep, circular bath with a dome overheadsupported by columns that were once the ornaments ofRoman palaces. There is a small bathing- room for aprivate bath adjoining this. I sent down in the morning,to have the bath thoroughly cleaned out, and fresh, cleanwater let in. Toward evening we walked down andbathed. The temperature ofthe water was about a hundred and twenty. It was by a slow process of boilingone foot and then the other, and then letting ourselvesslowly down in, an inch a minute, that Whitely and Ifinally succeeded in measuring the depth of the bath,which was just five feet. I boiled myselfhalf an hour and384 BUYING WINE.came out a new man. It was one of the most refreshingbaths I have ever taken, and I added an improvement tothe usual style of bathing, by coming out and going downto the sea shore, where I plunged into the cold water.That was magnificent.From the time of leaving Jerusalem, Miriam had suffered a severe pain in her left shoulder, which was eitherrheumatism or neuralgia. It was a great affliction, and sosevere at times, after a long day's ride, as to be almostintolerable. She bathed here and never heard of the painagain. We attributed the cure to the waters, and Imention it for the benefit of any traveler who may hesitate to try them.I have already related my success at Nazareth in getting wine. We had exhausted the supply of our excellentfriend, the superior of the Convent of the Annunciation,and I proposed to follow his advice here at Tiberias.Late in the evening we went into the town to see theJews, for of them alone can wine be purchased. TheMussulmans never make or use it, and the Jews throughout Palestine have a regular monopoly of it.The moonlight lay like a blessing on the old city. Thewalls, lying still in the sad ruins that were the result ofthe earthquake in 1837, were picturesque and beautiful inthe pale light. We entered the city through a breachand a long, dark, arched building. I did not go to examine it by daylight, and don't know what it was. Wewent directly to a house that was kept as a hotel, by aMr. Wiseman, and he offered us specimens of varioussorts of wine. The first tasted like spoiled beer, thesecond like spoiled cider, and the third was poison. Wethen commenced a regular cruise among Jewish houses,and were, at length, fortunate in meeting an old lady ina moonlit street, who took us to her own house where sheassured us she had good wine.BUYING WINE. 385It was a clean place, and a neat room into which sheshowed us, and there was in it a young girl of rarebeauty. Such, I thought, as I looked at her, might havebeen the beautiful mother of Benjamin. She was tall,slender, yet with a full form and graceful; her face waswhite and delicate, and she had an eye to haunt a youngman like my friend, and even to revisit the dreams of anolder one, like myself. While we talked with her, theold lady had gone out and now returned with a glass ofwine. It was much better than the best of Wiseman's,but it was poor stuff. I told her so, and she brought abetter article. Whitely sipped it and looked over thetop of the glass at Sarai-that was her name-and praisedthe wine, and I bought it.After we had left the house, I told him frankly I didn'tlike it much, and was going to look for better. Weknocked at half a dozen houses, and, at length, scared upa family who answered our query for wine with an aflirmative, and a young woman, bidding us wait, ran out, likea ghost in the moonlight, and soon returned with thesame old lady. She was a sister of Sarai and this was hermother. She laughed at finding us looking for betterwine than she had sold us, and told us she had better yetat home, whereat we laughed and went back with her,not unwilling to see Sarai again. Alas, Sarai sat in acorner with her husband, a filthy-looking dog, and thewine was a poor consoler for such a discovery. But itwas a very decided improvement on the last, and webought another gallon, and went away. I had still anotion that there might be better wine in Tiberias, and,as the moon was bright and the Jewish interiors mightpossibly show up something more of the Sarai sort, wewent on around town and, at length, hit on anotherfamily who could sell us wine. So we sat down in a dingyroom, and the mother went out and came back with17386 A GALILEE WINE - CELLAR.Sarai! Identically. And she laughed the gayest imaginable laugh, and said, in her musical Teutonic-forSarai was German, and her voice made even Germanmusical-she said her mother had better wine than wehad tasted. And so we went back in a high state of indignation at the old woman, which all passed away as wefollowed Sarai's exquisite form, and saw her face in themoonlight ofTiberias. Such, ere she sinned, might wellhave been Mary of Magdala, if indeed she was so great asinner, which is much to be doubted. Such might havebeen Miriam the mother of the Lord.The old lady laughed again at my indignant remonstrances, and I followed her now to her reservoirs, not unwilling to see a Tubareeyeh wine-cellar. It was a cellar,three or four feet below the level of the court of her littleinud house. It was filled with large earthen jars. Eachone would hold half a barrel. They had large open tops,on which were earthen covers. I opened one after another, and tasted every variety of Galilee wine. Somewas new, and raw and unpleasant, the bitter taste of thegrape-seed predominating, others were ripe and more likea Beaune claret sweetened with sugar. One jar wasmuch like dead champagne, and that which she thoughtbest of all was heavier than old port, thick, oily, andcrusty, very pleasant to taste but cloying immediately.I never have seen any thing like it in wine elsewhere, butI found it the favorite among the Jews in Jerusalem andhere. She had eight or ten kinds, and some of themevidently the jars from which Wiseman's poison came.When I returned into the house, Sarai's husband, whowas a boy of eighteen or nineteen, produced a silver coinof Ptolemaic times, which he wished me to buy at a largeprice. He told me that a boy at Safed had recently founda hole full of them. These holes, full of coins, turn upoccasionally in Holy Land, the buried treasures of an-SARAI OF TIBERIAS. 387cients, whose dust has long ago become part of the dustaround their gold. The moderns, however, know verywell the value of old coins, and since the discovery ofAlexandrian gold coins at Sidon, the goldsmiths of Beyrout have been manufacturing them fromthe old patterns,so that the supply is enormous.Not even the beauty of Sarai could persuade us intopaying her husband's price for a coin of which I had already a specimen, and having sent our purchases of wineto the tents, selecting enough to last us as far as Damascus, we came out into the moonlight, and strolled alongthe shore of the sea till it was high noon of night.24.The Upper Jordan.WE left the sea of Galilee with much the same regretthat we had on leaving Jerusalem.Three nights on its quiet side had endeared to us theassociations with its shores and waves far more than thereading ofits history possibly could, and we had but thiscomfort in going, that we should take away many of thememories that haunt its sacred banks. The music of itswaves, to which we slept each night, is " a joy forever, "and in years to come the memory of that melody willserve to soothe far better than its imaginations in formertimes.While the baggage was put on the horses, Morerightand myself climbed the ruins of the wall of Tiberias, andsitting on a tower, overlooked the place and the sea,- making some notes of general appearances.The sea of Galilee is from twelve to fourteen miles indirect length from north to south, and about seven inwidth at the widest part, which is nearer the northernthan the southern end. I have already described thegeneral aspect of the scenery around the sea. The easternshore is in general straighter than the western. That isto say its line is more nearly north and south. There isa great curve to the westward in the line of the otherbeach, which reachest the utmost point of westing at theTIBERIAS. 389village of Megdel, the ancient Magdala. Tiberias is aboutthree miles south of this point, and about six north fromthe extreme south point. It is the only place of importance on the lake. Samak, on its extreme southern limit,and a small collection of huts, called El Houssan, directlyopposite Tiberias, are the only other villages visible on allthe shores, and these are but mud huts, inhabited by thepoorest fellaheen. The Arabs told me of a large villagecalled Fink, lying two hours east of El Houssan, beyondthe mountains, but I could gather no particulars of interestconcerning it.Tradition locates the miraculous draught of fishes atthe northern end of the city of Tiberias, where there is achapel built and dedicated to Peter, which belongs to theLatin convent at Nazareth. It is supposed also to coverthe spot where Christ's last charge to Peter was delivered.The inhabitants of Tiberias are Christians, Jews, andMoslems, and are about equally divided. The native population can hardly exceed, if it reach twenty-five hundred.The Jews are of all nations, and I found them talkingItalian, Spanish, and German, while many of them weresuch recent-comers that they had not yet learned Arabic.The Christians are, with a few exceptions, Greek- Catholic,that is, belonging to the branch of the Greek Church.which acknowledges the supremacy of Rome.We found the fish of the lake very palatable, and intaste not unlike the perch and large roach of our ownwaters. The statement that the Abou- Kishr, a fish oftheNile, is also found here, I think must have its origin inthe same name being applied to different fish. I havetaken many of the Abou- Kishr in the Nile, and am satisfied that that fish will not live except in a muddy stream.Fish are very choice of their water, and one accustomedto mud, is seldom found in clear water. Nor did I see,390 EVENTS OF CHRIST'S LIFE .among many varieties of fish at Tiberias, any that resembled the Abou-Kishr.With the history of the city, I will not detain thereader. It is chiefly a history of times since the days ofthe Saviour. Tiberias attained its greatest importanceunder the Roman emperors after the fall of Jerusalem,and became the great seat of the Hebrew scholars and ofJewish learning. In the Crusades it also figures largely,but in the later years it has gone to decay.I have already mentioned the hill of Hattin as the supposed Mountain of the Beatitudes. There is certainly noreason for giving it such a name.The fact is stated very barely that Christ " went upinto a mountain, " and beyond the mere fact that this wasin Galilee, we know nothing. That passage in the mountain sermon, " a city that is set on a hill can not be hid, "has often been mentioned in connection with the city ofSafed, which, standing on a high hill far to the north, isvisible from almost all parts of Galilee. But it is hardlyprobable that Christ had reference to this place, inasmuchas there is no evidence of its so great antiquity.The city on the summit ofTabor might well have suggested the idea. There is no doubt that there was acommanding fortress and town on this isolated knoll overlooking the vast plains and rolling land west of the seaand the Jordan. But all this is conjecture.There is one event of the life of Christ which has beenlocated by various hypotheses on every high hill in Galilee.I allude to the transfiguration. The evidence of Scripturewould appear to be very decided that this took placesomewhere in the northern part of the Holy Land, amongthe "towns of Cesarea-Philippi. " It was in this neighborhood that Mark locates it more nearly than any other(Mark, viii. , 27) , and the expression afterward used inthe 30th verse of the 9th chapter, " they departed thenceSHORE OF THE LAKE. 391and passed through Galilee, " appears to imply that theywere not in Galilee when it occurred.While Moreright and myself discussed these varioussubjects, the tents had disappeared, the baggage wasgone, and a shout at length called us from our scat on thewall to the late camp-ground, the pleasantest of all ourcamp-grounds in Holy Land.We rode slowly under the wall of the old city, andascended the hill, along the bank of the sea. The waterwas so clear, that from two hundred feet above it wecould see large and small fish playing about in it , andall the colors of the pebbles on the bottom. One hourand twenty minutes from Tiberias, we arrived at Magdala, now called Megdel, a collection of mud huts, thesole representative of the city of the Mary whose afflictions have been transformed, in tradition, into sins.Here our path came down to the beach, which wasnow soft sand, filled with an infinite number of shells, andalong this, with our horses' feet oftentimes in the water,we rode for one hour, when we reached Khan Minieh.Our last hour had been over a broad and beautiful valley,bounded on the south by the wild mountainous ridges, inwhich the ancient robbers found almost inaccessible caverns to hide and fortify themselves in, and whence theywere dislodged by men let down from above in baskets,or machines constructed for the purpose. The northside ofthe plain abuts on the range of hills which crossesthe head of the sea. This is the plain and land of Gennesareth, Chinnereth or Chinneroth. For the formername is, doubtless, a corruption of the latter, whichis found in the nineteenth chapter of Joshua, as one ofthe cities ofthe tribe of Naphtali.Khan Minieh is but a name. There is a beautifulspring of water here, running a few rods into the lake,and surrounded by rich and luxuriant vegetation, and a392 CAPERNAUM.ruined khan, but no other remains. We had passedgroves of oleander, in bloom, for nearly the whole hour,and now we found almond and fig-trees, and wild flowersin profusion. The water of the fountain was not pleasant. It was not cold, and the taste was by no means sosweet as to justify the tradition that it is a branch of theNile. It was in fact a little brackish.I think Dr. Robinson's views of this spot, as the locality of Capernaum, are satisfactory. The location of theplace with reference to Gennesareth, and the resemblanceof the fountain to that of Capernaum, as described byJosephus, appear sufficient evidence in the absence ofdirect proof against it, which the other locality at TellHun does not furnish. The argument which I heardused in favor of the other locality was somewhat amusing."Capernaum was on a high hill," said the gentleman;" because the apostrophe of Christ so implies whenhe said, " Thou, Capernaum, which art exalted untoheaven.' ""But I imagined that was quite figurative," said I,"and referred to the pride of the inhabitants. ""O, yes, but also to the locality. I should certainlylook for a place on a hill. I think there was a literaltruth in the apostrophe evident on its face. ""But you believe that Christ's prophecy concerning ithas been fulfilled?""Doubtless.""Then I advise you to look for Capernaum in thelowest hollow you can find in these parts, for the cursewas, " Thou shalt be cast down to hell,' and that must beas literally true as the first part of it, which art exaltedunto heaven. ' "We now ascended the hillsof the lake, and left its shores.6which cross the headLooking back on it wePIT OF JOSEPH. 393saw the probable locality of Chorazin and Bethsaida, butthey are conjectural wholly. We swept our eyes over theentire lake, as we then supposed for the last time, but allday long, as we went up the hills, we caught glimpses ofits silver surface, and it was late in the afternoon beforewe saw, for the last time, the blue waters of Gennesareth.WeThe way now became difficult beyond parallel. Formiles the road lay over rolling hills covered with brokenrock, over which any other horses than those would havefallen a hundred times. Path there was none.found our way northward, as we saw fit, and rejoicedexceedingly at two hours from Khan Minieh, when wesaw the walls of Khan Jubb Yusef, where we were to lunch.It was a dismal place. The khan was an immensestone building surrounding a court-yard knee- deep inmud, in one corner of which lay a dead camel. Theeffluvia was horrible, and we could not enter, but we satdown outside and rested awhile.This khan has been described by travelers as marking.the spot where one of the traditions locates the pit intowhich the brethren of Joseph threw him, and Burckhardtand Dr. Robinson speak of the pit itself as " in a court bythe side ofthe khan. " The former describes it as "threefeet in diameter, and at least thirty feet deep. " This is amistake. There is a curious outside court, walled in andfaced, by the side of the khan, but it contains only anordinary cistern. The reputed pit of Joseph is a halfhour from the khan, which has no connection with it,and only derives its name from the proximity.There is another, and much more likely locality forDothaim, among the mountains south of Jezreel, andthere is every evidence against this in the north country.I have marked this day as one of the most weary in myentire journeyings. If flowers mark the footsteps of theLord, one might believe that he had lingered around the17 *894 A GAZELLE CHASE.fountain at Minieh and the hills above it, for their profusion was unexampled. But after this there were none,except occasional bulbous roots, of which we gatheredspecimens for the conservatory at home.I felt as if leaving the footprints of Christ. As I wentnorthward from Galilee, all interest in that country seemedto cease. The incidents of travel alone interested us, andwe ceased any longer to mark spots that were sanctifiedin the history of the Lord. Nevertheless, we were not yetaway from Holy Land, for his wanderings led him toCesarea-Philippi, and we were going there.Toward evening, as we rode slowly over a long slopedescending to a deep wâdy or bed of a stream, we caughtsight offive gazelles on the plain ahead of us.Shouting to the rest to hold up, I wheeled short to theright, dashed down a side valley that joined the other ahundred rods below, and going down this, crossed the drybed of the brook, and went up the opposite ascent. I hadgotten halfway up, when a shout from Abd- el- Atti warnedme that they were alarmed. The next moment, one ofthem dashed along the top of the ridge, showing his headan instant only. I gave Mohammed the rein, and hewent back into the valley, and down the bed of the stream,like a thunderbolt. Now he took a rock at a leap, andnow he went, break-neck fashion, down a steep descent.The speed was tremendous for five minutes, and then afaint halloo overtook me. Looking back over my shoulder,I saw Abd-el-Atti waving his hand to signify that they hadstopped. I turned up the hill again, taking it diagonally.The horse went over the ridge as I swung my fowlingpiece from my back, and threw it over my left arm. Itwas loaded with heavy shot. I had been that day killingvultures on the bodies of dead animals in the road, forwe were on the great Damascus and Jerusalem caravanroute.TROUBLE AHEAD. 395As I came up on the table-land, I was within a hundred yards of them. They glanced at me a moment, andwere off like the wind, bounding twenty feet at the first.jump. Shot was quick, but not quick enough for them,and I wasted both barrels on them, and then spoke to Mohammed again. He knew what I wished right well, andthe pace was fearful as we went along the edge of the ridgetoward a point where I saw they must turn a little, andgive me a chance at them as they went down toward theJordan. It happened as I expected. As they foundthemselves on the edge of the abrupt precipice, theyturned and crossed in front of me, and I sent a ball frommy Colt at the large one who led the drove. But I wasgoing too fast for a steady aim, and missed him. Thenext, and the next disappeared over the bank, and Ishouted to Mohammed to stop. He brought up as if hehad struck a wall, his feet plunging and sliding in theloose, red soil, and then I had a fair sight at the last butHe stumbled as I shot, and went rolling down thehill.I rode back slowly, with my game across my horse'sneck, and joined the party an hour ahead on the road .Just as I came up with them, we met a Bedouin goingdown toward Tiberias. He paused, and asked if wewere going to Damascus, " Es Shem," and strongly urgedus not to make the attempt. He told us that the Druseswere in a state of great excitement on the side of MountHermon, and were murdering travelers, of all creeds andkinds; that we should never reach Damascus alive, andsundry similar consolatory assurances. We felt muchencouraged by his story, and began to think there wasexcitement ahead. We came so near it as this, that wehelped bury a man who was shot by a Druse on the sideof Mount Hermon four days after this, but we had nofighting on our own account,396 MILL OF MALAHA.All the afternoon, we had been looking down from thehills over which we were riding, on the plain of El Hooleh,and the waters of Merom, now called the lake El Hooleh.Toward evening, we had come up with the lake, thoughwe were much to the west of it , and at length, fording astrong stream of water by a rude mill, we found the timeso late that I ordered a halt, and decided to pitch thetents here instead of going on further, as we had at firstintended.The stream of which I have spoken, had its sourceclose by our camp-ground. Indeed, the old mill wasactually at the outlet of a magnificent spring, a pond ofa hundred feet in diameter, nearly circular, which pouredout a fine strong stream, amply sufficient for all the purposes of New York city. Such a fountain on Manhattanisland would render the Croton aqueduct unnecessary.The pond was filled with fish. They crowded each other,large, noble fellows, quite eighteen inches long, by hundreds. But no inducements of bait that I could invent,would persuade them to touch the hook, and I passed thetime till dark in a vain attempt to take even one.Night came down on us with all the beauty of a Syriannight, starry and moony, and the dashing stream made.the music to which we slept by the mill of Malaha.I can not say that our dreams that night were differentfrom usual, nor do I remember that we dreamed of homewith more or less distinctness than on other nights. Ionly know, as I have already said, that the day previoushad appeared long, and sad, and weary, and that we feltas ifleaving Holy Land.The wind was cold and mournful around the tents.Thrice before I slept I walked out into the gloom, andlistened to the dash of the strong stream that went hurrying down to the Jordan and the sea of Galilee, to resta little while there in sunshine, and then go down toOUR BROTHER. 397death in the Dead Sea. There was a stork, which I hadshot, lying on the ground before the tent, white audghostly. The wind fluttered the flag over my head, andsoughed over the ropes. I met Moreright once. Ic,too, was restless."Is it not a dismal night?" said he."I don't half like the neighborhood," was my reply."Rumor speaks of it as not the safest part of Syria."That night was mournful elsewhere. Had we knownthe bitterness of the cup that those we loved were thatnight drinking, we had not slept so calmly in our tentson the Hooleh plain. For while we slept, the sun of asouthern winter was going westward over the forests ofFlorida, and among them our brother Charlie, best andnoblest of brothers, was passing heavenward by that road,which, dark as it seems to our eyes, is, thank God, nolonger or more difficult where he entered on it, than it isabove the hills of Holy Land, or his and our home.How we loved that boy, those who read these lines andknew him will well understand; and they will pardon thispause to speak of him. His brief life was brilliant-hismemory is blessed . Ardent and ambitious, but no moreso than the ability of his fine intellect warranted, he hadalready won honors that friends might well be proud of,and the future was full of promise. All that is over now,and he has found other fields in which to wander, where,if ambition have power over the soul, its aim is the footof the throne, where all thirst is perfectly satisfied inabundant waters.Strange scenes of contrast! We were in tents on theJordan plain, and the wail of the night wind, and thesound of the dashing stream were around us. They werebending above his couch in the light of the afternoon sun,listening for the last breath of lips whose utterances hadalways been eloquent of love. Miriam, his sister, lay398 PEACE! PEACE!breathing calmly as the visions of soft sleep stole overher, and if perchance the wind or the dashing streammade her turn restlessly, it was but to sleep more profoundly and dream of the sea breeze at home, and thedash of the waves on the old sea- wall at the foot of thegarden, where he and she had gazed eastward in childhood along the silver path of the rising moon, and wondered whether they would ever cross the sea to lands ofsunrise on ancient glory.When the sun came up over the hills of the Howaran,and far above us, white and grand, stood the silver summit of Hermon, with the glory of the sunlight resting onits brow, the darkness had closed in on them, and theysat, bowed with grief, beside the silent form that had beenour brother. But he was not there, he was above thesummit of all hills of earthly sorrow, above the verystars.O sudden change! But now he was in the arms thathad clasped him closest from childhood even till now—and she was lying asleep on the barren and desolate plainthis side the Jordan, weary with travel over the hills ofHoly Land. One moment more, and he was beyond theriver, in the land whose fields of exceeding beauty thisCanaan never equaled, whose rivers flow with perfectjoy, whose valleys are the peace that passeth understanding, whose mountains are the eternal greatness andmajesty of God's love.It was not till long afterward, while we were in Greece,that we heard of it. In the same newspaper, handed usby our friend, that noble missionary, Dr. King, we readof the death of two of our kindred-our father and ourbrother. There are two spots to which our memoriesnow, and forever till we cross the river, go back with devont earnestness; spots where their eyes, unvailed , undimmed, first saw us in our wanderings. The one, MountSOURCES OF THE JORDAN. 399Lebanon, above Damascus, the other the Hooleh plain,by the mill of Malaha.Next day we crossed the plain of El Hooleh, and atnoon reached the dark ravine where the Hasbeiyah rivercomes down from the mountains of Lebanon. We pausedfor luncheon on a somewhat singular hill at the head ofthe valley, where two streams of water, brought in artificial channels from the north-west and north- east, metand were turned on the wheel of a mill. These mills ofthe north of Syria began now to abound, and I wasamused at their simple style. The wheel was horizontal,and the water rushing down a spout struck the arms, orspokes, for they were nothing else, and turned it around.Each arm was a flat piece of wood, driven into the upright axle, and presenting a flat side to the passingstream. The upper end of the axle was fixed in themill-stone, so that there was no bother about the gear.The water turned the stone directly. Where water costsnothing, the plan is very well for coarse flour, and no onein these countries dreams of fine meal.The Jordan, as a river, has its origin in the lake ElHooleh. Above this travelers and commentators differas to its sources, but there is no necessity for any difference. The lake is supplied by numerous large springs,such as that at Malaha, and one at Souhain, two milesnorth of the former. But beside these a fine stream ofwater comes down from Hasbeiyah, which, if the mostremote source be taken as the true source, is the trueJordan. East of this, on the south-west slope of MountHermon, among its ravines, lies the ancient Panias, nowcalled Banias, at which is a large fountain, of which Ishall speak. Between this and the Hasbeiyah river is thesite of ancient Dan, now called , Tell- el- Khady, where isanother magnificent outburst of water. These three arethe chief supplies of the lake, and are the sources of the400 ARRIVAL AT BANIAS.Jordan. It is a matter of taste in each traveler to selectwhich he pleases as the true head-water of the sacred river.While we were sitting at luncheon on the hill I havedescribed, our attention was attracted at seeing due south,right down the valley of El Hooleh and the Jordan, inthe far distance, a blue hill. Whether this was or wasnot Pisgah, it was manifest that Moses from Pisgah couldsee to this spot, and that the whole Land of Promise,from Dan to Beersheba, lay before his eyes. It opened anew and sublime idea to my mind, that of the lawgiver'slast view, when I understood that his vision took in Hermon and the hills of the southern desert, as well as Ebaland Gerizim, and Moriah and Zion.We entered the gorge of the Hasbeiyah, and rode up itsright bank till we found an ancient bridge of a single archspanning the ravine. It was a wild and beautiful spot.The foaming river, the old bridge over which our horses.stepped cautiously, for the stones were slippery, and amisstep would send us fifty feet down into the boilingstream, the high, precipitous hills, and the screams ofan eagle that was sailing down the ravine as if startedfrom her nest by our presence, all made as vivid andpicturesque a scene as could well be imagined.We soon arrived at Tell-el-Khady, the site of Dan, andmuch the finest fountain we had yet seen. It is a broaddeep basin, pouring out a splendid stream. No houses orruins are near.Three fourths of an hour from this, passing throughgroves of oaks and olives and a luxuriant growth of various trees, we found ourselves suddenly on the border ofwhat appeared to be a collection of ruined stone houses,among which a strong stream was pouring and dashingdown precipitous rocks in one white sheet of foam forhalf a mile. This was Caesarea-Philippi, the modernBanias, and in all ages the reputed source of the Jordan.25.Cæsarea Philippi.MOUNT Hermon is the most southern and the highesthill of Anti- Lebanon. It looks down on Palestine to thesouth, on Damascus and its great plain toward the east,and on the hills and valleys of the Lebanon country to thenorth and west. On the southern side the hill falls offamong many ravines, and its wild gorges lead out to asomewhat extensive plateau, or terrace, which in turn falls offto the great plain of El Hooleh.On this terrace Panias was built, and among the ruinsof its ancient buildings the modern Bañias is found . Onthe point of a high bluff of rock which overlooks theplain are the two white domes of a Mohammedan tombor wely. To all comers from the south this marks, for aday before they reach it, the site of the great spring of theJordan.On the side of the rock, sixty feet above the level ofthe highest part of the terrace, is a cavernous opening.Its front is partly filled up with the debris of the mountain, which has fallen before it, and gradually filled it, sothat, to enter the cave, you must descend considerably.Within there is nothing. It is dry, except in rainyweather, when a pool forms in it from water running in.At the right of this cavern, on the face of the rock, arethree sculptured niches, in which probably statues oncestood, with inscriptions near them.402 FOUNTAIN OF BANIAS.The water flows out below the debris, which fills upthe front of the cavern. Possibly in remote times it mayhave flowed from the cavern itself, but not within manycenturies.From under this pile of stone the water gushes outover a space, a hundred feet wide, and nowhere morethan a few inches deep. It gathers toward one point,where it commences its descent, and is here a strongstream. It is difficult to state the size of a stream ofwater so that a reader can obtain an idea of its volume.I may remark of this, however, that it probably poursout more water in an hour than the entire Croton aqueduct could carry off in a day. Its descent from thesprings is rapid, and it must fall several hundred feetwithin a mile. Its course is one strong, foaming current,in which no horse or man could by any possibility standerect. I desired to take fish in it, and rigged my tackle,but, except within the village of Banias, where its flow isbroad and shallow, I could not within a mile and a halffind a place where the swift current ceased, or wherethere was an eddy or a basin in which a fish could lie. Atrout fisherman will readily appreciate what a stream itwas, when I tell him that the current was so strong forthis distance, that there was no place for a trout to lie,not even under the lee of a rock.This is the great source of the river Jordan, andhas been esteemed the true Jordan in all ages, though,as I have already remarked, the Hasbeiyah river, which ismuch smaller, has a more remote source at the fountainsnear that place.These strong fountains are a characteristic of this partof the world. The great fountains of the Jordan, andthose which I have mentioned at Malaha and Souhain,as well as several on the bank of the sea of Galilee, andthat of Elisha at Jericho are alike grand.LAST NIGHT ON HOLY SOIL. 403It was our last night on the holy soil. Here, for thelast time, we were treading in the footsteps of the Lord,and, henceforth, in our wanderings over the surface ofthe world, we were to walk on the common earth thathis presence had never sanctified. It was a cold, sad,evening. The tents were pitched in a grove of olivetrees on the banks of the stream, just where it made abold, white plunge of thirty feet, and roared like a smallNiagara. The night passed slowly with wailing winds.All night the olives moaned and the stream roared, nowrising in tone, now falling, as if the spirits of the grottoof Pan were among their old haunts.In the morning we parted from our friends, Dr. Bonarand his party, who had been most pleasant companionsthus far, and who now turned back.This great fountain attracted the inhabitants of theworld in its early days, and, doubtless, here was a templeto Baal long before Pan reigned in the forests. TheGreeks gave it its name of Panias, and in the days of Tiberius Caesar when Philip was Tetrarch, he beautified theplace and called it Cæsarea, adding his own name Philippi to distinguish it from Cæsarea on the coast of theMediterranean. While it held this name it was honoredby the visits of Christ, and near it, on some one of themountains around it, I have no doubt, occurred the sublime mystery of the transfiguration. In the days ofNero the place was called Neronias, but, after this, appears to have resumed its old name, and here, after thefall of Jerusalem, Titus celebrated triumphant games,and caused his Jewish prisoners to fight as gladiators forthe amusem*nt of his people.Later than this the Christians made it the seat of abishopric, and in the times of the Crusades it became thenorth-eastern key of the Holy Land, and its great defence against Noureddin the Caliph of Damascus, and404 A RUINED CASTLE.Salah-e'deen his successor. The Arabs have substituteda B for the Pin its name, and call it Banias, by whichname few now recognize the ancient Casarea-Philippi.Ruins abound in and around the village, but the mostimposing of all these is the great Khulet-el- Banias, Castleof Banias, on a high hill east of the town, one hour distant from it. Riding through the village I bought, asusual, coins, and one beautiful antique cornelian, and wethen made our way out to the castle.I have wandered over many of the ruins of feudaltimes in Europe, and have visited some of the best preserved relics of ancient castles in France and in Germany,but I have never seen as imposing a ruin of those days asis this vast castle. The hill is very steep on all sides, andrises, perhaps, a thousand feet above Banias . It is anisolated, conical peak, surrounded with deep valleys.The ridge of the summit is about a thousand feet longfrom east to west, varying in width, the eastern endbeing a little the highest. This entire ridge is inclosedwithin the walls of the castle, which still frown onthe stranger on all sides. Entrance can be had onlyat the one gateway, dismantled now, indeed, but stillcapable of a gallant defence in its ruins. The place appears impregnable: one can not imagine how, before thedays of gunpowder, it was ever conquered , and yetit did change hands often during the times of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem. The keep was at the easternend, flanked by four massive square stone towers, thatlooked down a thousand feet into the bed of a mountain torrent. From this the walls run on each side of theridge to the western end, where are the ruins of largetowers, and especially of immense cisterns, cut in the rockand arched over with pointed arches. The workmanship ofthese cisterns is remarkably fine. A subterranean passage, which was supposed to lead hence to the city ofCASTLE OF BANIAS. 405Banias, is now choked up. From the ruined tower atthis end the view over the plain of El Hooleh is veryfine, even to the distant hills of Safed (of which we couldsee the castles) , Tabor and Gilboa. But most of all oureyes were fixed on the little village at our very feet,where the Lord said to Peter, " On this rock will I buildmy church," and whence the waters of the Jordan flow,as in his days two thousand years ago.It would be vain to deny that our minds and lips weremuch occupied with imaginary histories of the castle onwhich we now stood. Could its stones but have voiceswe should hear tales of romance that would keep uslistening forever. The light feet of beautiful women hadmoved along these pavements in knightly days, andmailed men had trodden these ruined halls in timesof doubt, and strife, and despair. Could but the fairlove of Raynor Brus spring into life before us, what avision of beauty would it be. For Raynor Brus was lordof Banias when the castle fell, and the wail of despairthat rang down these wild gorges of the mountain whenthe Turk rushed into the lady's bower, sounded in myears again as I leaned over the wall and looked far below,and wondered whether she cast herself headlong downto escape a fate worse than death to a Christian lady.The morning passed by as we yet lingered . A pistolshot on the hill -side two miles to the southward, gave usnotice that Abd-el- Atti was waiting at the appointedrendezvous, and we remounted our horses to descend thehill. The castle was inhabited by a family, among whomwere two women wearing the horn, which is seen as apeculiar costume in this part of the country and throughout Lebanon. It is a high support for a vail or headdress,usually made of silver, being a round tube, three inchesin diameter at the bottom and two at the top, placed onthe head over the centre of the forehead. They were406 A RUN DOWN HILL.very good-natured about allowing Miriam to examine it,and begged moderately when we departed.I said little about the difficulty of the ascent to thecastle. It was nothing to the going down. But ourhorses were safe on ice if the angle was within forty-fivedegrees, and we gave them loose reins, and freedom tofind their own way down.There was one spot where the descent became suddenlyinore steep. Mohammed had kept his feet and his temper well till he reached it, and then his self-control wasgone. He could not stand it, and, to my very near overthrow, he went off like an arrow. There was perhapsthree hundred feet of descent to be accomplished, anddown we went. He must have cleared thirty feet atevery leap, and, looking behind me, I saw the bay andthe chestnut following. There was a grove of olive-treesahead, and we went through them, dodging the limbswith difficulty. I believe the only accident of the descentwas Miriam's loss of a part of her riding-dress on a bush,as she went over it. It was next to miraculous that wereached the bottom alive.Our route now lay over the south-east side of MountHermon. For some hours we continued to ascend, untilwe were among thick fogs, and nearly frozen with cold.It was late in the afternoon when the weather partiallycleared off, and the wind was now exceedingly piercing.We were approaching the country in which we had beenassured we should have danger. We had looked carefullyto our arms in the morning. We did not much else withthem in all our travels than to look at them. Yet theirpresence when others looked at them was always impressive; and there were several instances in which I think Ishould have suffered but for the silent arguments of thehandles of pistols in my shawl.I rode this day, somewhat rudely, it is true, across aVIEW OF BANIAS. 407field of beans just springing up. I had missed the path,and was obliged to cross this to recover my way. A native, apparently a Druse, hailed me with loud shouts thatwere home-like. It was right pleasant to be warned offa man's lot of land. This was the first fellab, in all theEast, whom I had met that had enough spirit to do it.It was a matter of necessity for me, however, and Ilaughed and rode directly toward him. He swore at mein decided Bowery style, and even when I came nearhim continued his vociferations; but the sight of thecivilizers calmed him much, and I passed him in silence.Toward sunset, the road, which had been over high land,in close proximity to the snow banks on our left, begansuddenly and rapidly to descend in a mountain gorge,and at length we reached the fork of this with anothercoming down from Mount Hermon. At this fork, downin the depth of the ravine, was a village whereof the nameis Beit Jin, the abode of the evil spirit.26.The Dews of Hermon."HA, Mohammed, thou seest not an open grave for thefirst time!"The horse had sheered suddenly, and nearly droppedme prematurely into the open bosom of earth; for a gravewas dug at the very side of the path, and not yet occupied. As we entered the village, a loud wailing, thatfilled the mountain gorge, and echoed from its sides,greeted our ears with strange effect . It indicated thedeath of some person of importance. We rode down thegorge to the lower end of the village, near a stone building that answered the purposes of a mosk. We dismounted in a grove of large trees, which we did notrecognize in their leafless state, but which we afterwardlearned were English walnut, the fruit of which is vulgarly known in America as Madeira-nut-and on thebank of a strong mountain torrent, whose origin was alarge spring higher up the valley, known to the nativesas Ain-el- lemy. Here we waited the arrival of the tentsand baggage, which we had passed on the mountain.This was a most picturesque site for a village. Thetwo mountain gorges, which came down to a point, wenton to the east in one deep ravine, whose sharp sides stoodup almost perpendicularly eight hundred feet; so thatlooking eastward we saw the sky cut down to a triangu-A MOSLEM VILLAGE. 409lar shape, and against it the sharp lines of the rocky cliff,while north, south, and west the blue was on the hill-tops,a thousand feet above us. The village was on the middlebluff, and on the north side of the ravine. The southside of the south branch, and of the main ravine, was occupied by the graves of the villagers. The living wereover-against the dead.The inhabitants ofthat half of the village on the middlebluff were all Shereef, descendants of the Prophet, whilethe ordinary Mussulmans lived on the north side of thestream. This is the river Sebarini, which flows down tothe great plain of Damascus.We climbed the bluff to examine some rock- tombs overthe village of the Shereef, facing down the ravine. Onewas very large, containing nine apartments, separated bysquare stone columns supporting arched roofs, and eachchamber containing couches similar to those around Jerusalem.There were some very curious tombs near this, entirelydifferent from any thing I had seen or heard of in anyother part of the world. They were hewn into the perpendicular face of the rock, and shaped for the receptionoftwo sarcophagi. The front or doorway, which was ofthe same shape and size as the interior, was almost coffinshaped, about six feet high, but in the longer sides ofthecoflin, about half the height of the door, were elbows,making the upper part suddenly a foot wider than thelower. Thus one sarcophagus could be placed in thelower part and another above it, resting on these ledgesor elbows.While we were looking at the tombs we heard thewailing in the village below us suddenly grow louder, andsaw women running up and down the street with disheveled clothes and faces exposed, indicating the utmostabandonment to grief. Afewmoments later a procession 18394 A GAZELLE CHASE .fountain at Minieh and the hills above it, for their profusion was unexampled. But after this there were none,except occasional bulbous roots, of which we gatheredspecimens for the conservatory at home.I felt as if leaving the footprints of Christ. As I wentnorthward from Galilee, all interest in that country seemedto cease. The incidents of travel alone interested us, andwe ceased any longer to mark spots that were sanctifiedin the history of the Lord. Nevertheless, we were not yetaway from Holy Land, for his wanderings led him toCesarea-Philippi, and we were going there.Toward evening, as we rode slowly over a long slopedescending to a deep wâdy or bed of a stream, we caughtsight offive gazelles on the plain ahead of us.Shouting to the rest to hold up, I wheeled short to theright, dashed down a side valley that joined the other ahundred rods below, and going down this, crossed the drybed of the brook, and went up the opposite ascent. I hadgotten half way up, when a shout from Abd- el- Atti warnedme that they were alarmed. The next moment, one ofthem dashed along the top of the ridge, showing his headan instant only. I gave Mohammed the rein, and hewent back into the valley, and down the bed of the stream,like a thunderbolt. Now he took a rock at a leap, andnow he went, break-neck fashion , down a steep descent.The speed was tremendous for five minutes, and then afaint halloo overtook me. Looking back over my shoulder,I saw Abd-el- Atti waving his hand to signify that they hadstopped. I turned up the hill again, taking it diagonally.The horse went over the ridge as I swung my fowlingpiece from my back, and threw it over my left arm. Itwas loaded with heavy shot. I had been that day killingvultures on the bodies of dead animals in the road, forwe were on the great Damascus and Jerusalem caravanroute.TROUBLE AHEAD. 395As I came up on the table-land, I was within a hundred yards of them. They glanced at me a moment, andwere off like the wind, bounding twenty feet at the firstjump. Shot was quick, but not quick enough for them,and I wasted both barrels on them, and then spoke to Mohammed again. He knew what I wished right well, andthe pace was fearful as we went along the edge of the ridgetoward a point where I saw they must turn a little, andgive me a chance at them as they went down toward theJordan. It happened as I expected. As they foundthemselves on the edge of the abrupt precipice, theyturned and crossed in front of me, and I sent a ball frommy Colt at the large one who led the drove. But I wasgoing too fast for a steady aim, and missed him. Thenext, and the next disappeared over the bank, and Ishouted to Mohammed to stop. He brought up as if hehad struck a wall, his feet plunging and sliding in theloose, red soil, and then I had a fair sight at the last butone. He stumbled as I shot, and went rolling down thehill.I rode back slowly, with my game across my horse'sneck, and joined the party an hour ahead on the road.Just as I came up with them, we met a Bedouin goingdown toward Tiberias. He paused, and asked if wewere going to Damascus, " Es Shem, " and strongly urgedus not to make the attempt. He told us that the Druseswere in a state of great excitement on the side of MountHermon, and were murdering travelers, of all creeds andkinds; that we should never reach Damascus alive, andsundry similar consolatory assurances. We felt muchencouraged by his story, and began to think there wasexcitement ahead. We came so near it as this, that wehelped bury a man who was shot by a Druse on the sideof Mount Hermon four days after this, but we had nofighting on our own account.396 MILL OF MALAHA,All the afternoon, we had been looking down from thehills over which we were riding, on the plain of El Hooleh ,and the waters of Merom, now called the lake El Hooleh.Toward evening, we had come up with the lake, thoughwe were much to the west of it, and at length, fording astrong stream of water by a rude mill, we found the timeso late that I ordered a halt, and decided to pitch thetents here instead of going on further, as we had at firstintended.The stream of which I have spoken, had its sourceclose by our camp-ground. Indeed, the old mill wasactually at the outlet of a magnificent spring, a pond ofa hundred feet in diameter, nearly circular, which pouredout a fine strong stream, amply sufficient for all the purposes of New York city. Such a fountain on Manhattanisland would render the Croton aqueduct unnecessary.The pond was filled with fish . They crowded each other,large, noble fellows, quite eighteen inches long, by hundreds. But no inducements of bait that I could invent,would persuade them to touch the hook, and I passed thetime till dark in a vain attempt to take even one.Night came down on us with all the beauty of a Syriannight, starry and moony, and the dashing stream madethe music to which we slept by the mill of Malaha.I can not say that our dreams that night were differentfrom usual, nor do I remember that we dreamed ofhomewith more or less distinctness than on other nights. Ionly know, as I have already said, that the day previoushad appeared long, and sad, and weary, and that we feltas if leaving Holy Land.The wind was cold and mournful around the tents.Thrice before I slept I walked out into the gloom, andlistened to the dash of the strong stream that went hurrying down to the Jordan and the sea of Galilee, to resta little while there in sunshine, and then go down toOUR BROTHER. 397death in the Dead Sea. There was a stork, which I hadshot, lying on the ground before the tent, white audghostly. The wind fluttered the flag over my head, andsoughed over the ropes. I met Moreright once. Ic,too, was restless." Is it not a dismal night?" said he."I don't half like the neighborhood," was my reply." Rumor speaks of it as not the safest part of Syria. "That night was mournful elsewhere. Had we knownthe bitterness of the cup that those we loved were thatnight drinking, we had not slept so calmly in our tentson the Hooleh plain. For while we slept, the sun of asouthern winter was going westward over the forests ofFlorida, and among them our brother Charlie, best andnoblest of brothers, was passing heavenward by that road,which, dark as it seems to our eyes, is, thank God, nolonger or more difficult where he entered on it, than it isabove the hills of Holy Land, or his and our home.How we loved that boy, those who read these lines andknew him will well understand; and they will pardon thispause to speak of him. His brief life was brilliant-hismemory is blessed. Ardent and ambitious, but no moreso than the ability of his fine intellect warranted, he hadalready won honors that friends might well be proud of,and the future was full of promise. All that is over now,and he has found other fields in which to wander, where,if ambition have power over the soul, its aim is the footof the throne, where all thirst is perfectly satisfied inabundant waters.Strange scenes of contrast! We were in tents on theJordan plain, and the wail of the night wind, and thesound of the dashing stream were around us. They werebending above his couch in thelight of the afternoon sun,listening for the last breath of lips whose utterances hadalways been eloquent of love. Miriam, his sister, lay898 PEACE! PEACE!breathing calmly as the visions of soft sleep stole overher, and if perchance the wind or the dashing streammade her turn restlessly, it was but to sleep more profoundly and dream of the sea breeze at home, and thedash of the waves on the old sea-wall at the foot of thegarden, where he and she had gazed eastward in childhood along the silver path of the rising moon, and wondered whether they would ever cross the sea to lands ofsunrise on ancient glory.When the sun came up over the hills of the Howaran,and far above us, white and grand, stood the silver summit of Hermon, with the glory of the sunlight resting onits brow, the darkness had closed in on them, and theysat, bowed with grief, beside the silent form that had beenour brother. But he was not there, he was above thesummit of all hills of earthly sorrow, above the verystars.O sudden change! But now he was in the arms thathad clasped him closest from childhood even till now—and she was lying asleep on the barren and desolate plainthis side the Jordan, weary with travel over the hills ofHoly Land. One moment more, and he was beyond theriver, in the land whose fields of exceeding beauty thisCanaan never equaled, whose rivers flow with perfectjoy, whose valleys are the peace that passeth understanding, whose mountains are the eternal greatness andmajesty of God's love.It was not till long afterward, while we were in Greece,that we heard of it. In the same newspaper, handed usby our friend, that noble missionary, Dr. King, we readof the death of two of our kindred-our father and ourbrother. There are two spots to which our memoriesnow, and forever till we cross the river, go back with devont earnestness; spots where their eyes, unvailed, undimmed, first saw us in our wanderings. The one, MountSOURCES OF THE JORDAN. 399Lebanon, above Damascus, the other the Hooleh plain,by the mill of Malaha.Next day we crossed the plain of El Hooleh, and atnoon reached the dark ravine where the Hasbeiyah rivercomes down from the mountains of Lebanon. We pausedfor luncheon on a somewhat singular hill at the head ofthe valley, where two streams of water, brought in artificial channels from the north-west and north-east, metand were turned on the wheel of a mill. These mills ofthe north of Syria began now to abound, and I wasamused at their simple style. The wheel was horizontal,and the water rushing down a spout struck the arms, orspokes, for they were nothing else, and turned it around.Each arm was a flat piece of wood, driven into the upright axle, and presenting a flat side to the passingstream. The upper end of the axle was fixed in themill-stone, so that there was no bother about the gear.The water turned the stone directly. Where water costsnothing, the plan is very well for coarse flour, and no onein these countries dreams of fine meal.The Jordan, as a river, has its origin in the lake ElHooleh. Above this travelers and commentators differas to its sources, but there is no necessity for any difference. The lake is supplied by numerous large springs,such as that at Malaha, and one at Souhain, two milesnorth of the former. But beside these a fine stream ofwater comes down from Hasbeiyah, which, if the mostremote source be taken as the true source, is the trueJordan. East of this, on the south-west slope of MountHermon, among its ravines, lies the ancient Panias, nowcalled Banias, at which is a large fountain, of which Ishall speak. Between this and the Hasbeiyah river is thesite of ancient Dan, now called Tell- el- Khady, where isanother magnificent outburst of water. These three arethe chief supplies of the lake, and are the sources of the400 ARRIVAL AT BANIAS.Jordan. It is a matter of taste in each traveler to selectwhich he pleases as the true head-water of the sacred river.While we were sitting at luncheon on the hill I havedescribed, our attention was attracted at seeing due south,right down the valley of El Hooleh and the Jordan, inthe far distance, a blue hill. Whether this was or wasnot Pisgah, it was manifest that Moses from Pisgah couldsee to this spot, and that the whole Land of Promise,from Dan to Beersheba, lay before his eyes. It opened anew and sublime idea to my mind, that of the lawgiver'slast view, when I understood that his vision took in Hermon and the hills of the southern desert, as well as Ebaland Gerizim, and Moriah and Zion.We entered the gorge ofthe Hasbeiyah, and rode up itsright bank till we found an ancient bridge of a single archspanning the ravine. It was a wild and beautiful spot.The foaming river, the old bridge over which our horsesstepped cautiously, for the stones were slippery, and amisstep would send us fifty feet down into the boilingstream, the high, precipitous hills, and the screams ofan eagle that was sailing down the ravine as if startedfrom her nest by our presence, all made as vivid andpicturesque a scene as could well be imagined.We soon arrived at Tell-el-Khady, the site of Dan, andmuch the finest fountain we had yet seen. It is a broaddeep basin, pouring out a splendid stream. No houses orruins are near.Three fourths of an hour from this, passing throughgroves of oaks and olives and a luxuriant growth of various trees, we found ourselves suddenly on the border ofwhat appeared to be a collection of ruined stone houses,among which a strong stream was pouring and dashingdown precipitous rocks in one white sheet of foam forhalf a mile. This was Cæsarea-Philippi, the modernBanias, and in all ages the reputed source of the Jordan.25.Cæsarea Philippi.MOUNT Hermon is the most southern and the highesthill of Anti-Lebanon. It looks down on Palestine to thesouth, on Damascus and its great plain toward the east,and on the hills and valleys of the Lebanon country to thenorth and west. On the southern side the hill falls offamong manyravines, and its wild gorges lead out to a somewhat extensive plateau, or terrace, which in turn falls offto the great plain of El Hooleh.On this terrace Panias was built, and among the ruinsof its ancient buildings the modern Bañias is found. Onthe point of a high bluff of rock which overlooks theplain are the two white domes of a Mohammedan tombor wely. To all comers from the south this marks, for aday before they reach it, the site of the great spring of theJordan.On the side of the rock, sixty feet above the level ofthe highest part of the terrace, is a cavernous opening.Its front is partly filled up with the debris of the mountain, which has fallen before it, and gradually filled it, sothat, to enter the cave, you must descend considerably.Within there is nothing. It is dry, except in rainyweather, when a pool forms in it from water running in.At the right of this cavern, on the face ofthe rock, arethree sculptured niches, in which probably statues once.stood, with inscriptions near them.402 FOUNTAIN OF BANIAS.The water flows out below the debris, which fills upthe front of the cavern. Possibly in remote times it mayhave flowed from the cavern itself, but not within manycenturies.From under this pile of stone the water gushes outover a space, a hundred feet wide, and nowhere morethan a few inches deep. It gathers toward one point,where it commences its descent, and is here a strongstream. It is difficult to state the size of a stream ofwater so that a reader can obtain an idea of its volume.I may remark of this, however, that it probably poursout more water in an hour than the entire Croton aqueduct could carry off in a day. Its descent from thesprings is rapid, and it must fall several hundred feetwithin a mile. Its course is one strong, foaming current,in which no horse or man could by any possibility standerect. I desired to take fish in it, and rigged my tackle,but, except within the village of Banias, where its flow isbroad and shallow, I could not within a mile and a halffind a place where the swift current ceased, or wherethere was an eddy or a basin in which a fish could lie. Atrout fisherman will readily appreciate what a stream itwas, when I tell him that the current was so strong forthis distance, that there was no place for a trout to lie,not even under the lee of a rock.This is the great source of the river Jordan, andhas been esteemed the true Jordan in all ages, though,as I have already remarked, the Hasbeiyah river, which ismuch smaller, has a more remote source at the fountainsnear that place.These strong fountains are a characteristic of this partof the world. The great fountains of the Jordan, andthose which I have mentioned at Malaha and Souhain,as well as several on the bank of the sea of Galilee, andthat of Elisha at Jericho are alike grand.LAST NIGHT ON HOLY SOIL. 403It was our last night on the holy soil. Here, for thelast time, we were treading in the footsteps of the Lord,and, henceforth, in our wanderings over the surface ofthe world, we were to walk on the common earth thathis presence had never sanctified. It was a cold, sad,evening. The tents were pitched in a grove of olivetrees on the banks of the stream, just where it made abold, white plunge of thirty feet, and roared like a smallNiagara. The night passed slowly with wailing winds.All night the olives moaned and the stream roared, nowrising in tone, now falling, as if the spirits of the grottoof Pan were among their old haunts.In the morning we parted from our friends, Dr. Bonarand his party, who had been most pleasant companionsthus far, and who now turned back.This great fountain attracted the inhabitants of theworld in its early days, and, doubtless, here was a templeto Baal long before Pan reigned in the forests. TheGreeks gave it its name of Panias, and in the days of Tiberius Cæsar when Philip was Tetrarch, he beautified theplace and called it Caesarea, adding his own name Philippi to distinguish it from Cæsarea on the coast of theMediterranean . While it held this name it was honoredby the visits of Christ, and near it, on some one of themountains around it , I have no doubt, occurred the sublime mystery of the transfiguration. In the days ofNero the place was called Neronias, but, after this, appears to have resumed its old name, and here, after thefall of Jerusalem, Titus celebrated triumphant games,and caused his Jewish prisoners to fight as gladiators forthe amusem*nt of his people.Later than this the Christians made it the seat of abishopric, and in the times of the Crusades it became thenorth-eastern key of the Holy Land, and its great defence against Nonreddin the Caliph of Damascus, and404 A RUINED CASTLE.Salah-e'deen his successor. The Arabs have substituteda Bfor the P in its name, and call it Banias, by whichname few now recognize the ancient Cæsarea- Philippi.Ruins abound in and around the village, but the mostimposing of all these is the great Khulet- el-Banias, Castleof Banias, on a high hill east of the town, one hour distant from it. Riding through the village I bought, asusual, coins, and one beautiful antique cornelian, and wethen made our way out to the castle.I have wandered over many of the ruins of feudaltimes in Europe, and have visited some of the best preserved relics of ancient castles in France and in Germany,but I have never seen as imposing a ruin of those days asis this vast castle. The hill is very steep on all sides, andrises, perhaps, a thousand feet above Banias. It is anisolated, conical peak, surrounded with deep valleys.The ridge of the summit is about a thousand feet longfrom east to west, varying in width, the eastern endbeing a little the highest. This entire ridge is inclosedwithin the walls of the castle, which still frown onthe stranger on all sides. Entrance can be had onlyat the one gateway, dismantled now, indeed, but stillcapable of a gallant defence in its ruins. The place appears impregnable: one can not imagine how, before thedays of gunpowder, it was ever conquered, and yetit did change hands often during the times of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem. The keep was at the easternend, flanked by four massive square stone towers, thatlooked down a thousand feet into the bed of a mountain torrent. From this the walls run on each side of theridge to the western end, where are the ruins of largetowers, and especially of immense cisterns, cut in the rockand arched over with pointed arches. The workmanship ofthese cisterns is remarkably fine. A subterranean passage, which was supposed to lead hence to the city ofCASTLE OF BANIAS. 405Banias, is now choked up. From the ruined tower atthis end the view over the plain of El Hooleh is veryfine, even to the distant hills of Safed (of which we couldsee the castles), Tabor and Gilboa. But most of all oureyes were fixed on the little village at our very feet,where the Lord said to Peter, " On this rock will I buildmy church," and whence the waters of the Jordan flow,as in his days two thousand years ago.It would be vain to deny that our minds and lips weremuch occupied with imaginary histories of the castle onwhich we now stood. Could its stones but have voiceswe should hear tales of romance that would keep uslistening forever. The light feet of beautiful women hadmoved along these pavements in knightly days, andmailed men had trodden these ruined halls in timesof doubt, and strife, and despair. Could but the fairlove of Raynor Brus spring into life before us, what avision of beauty would it be. For Raynor Brus was lordof Banias when the castle fell, and the wail of despairthat rang down these wild gorges of the mountain whenthe Turk rushed into the lady's bower, sounded in myears again as I leaned over the wall and looked far below,and wondered whether she cast herself headlong downto escape a fate worse than death to a Christian lady.The morning passed by as we yet lingered. A pistolshot on the hill- side two miles to the southward, gave usnotice that Abd-el- Atti was waiting at the appointedrendezvous, and we remounted our horses to descend thehill. The castle was inhabited by a family, among whomwere two women wearing the horn, which is seen as apeculiar costume in this part of the country and throughout Lebanon. It is a high support for a vail or headdress,usually made of silver, being a round tube, three inchesin diameter at the bottom and two at the top, placed onthe head over the centre of the forehead. They were406 A RUN DOWN HILL.very good-natured about allowing Miriam to examine it,and begged moderately when we departed.I said little about the difficulty of the ascent to thecastle. It was nothing to the going down. But ourhorses were safe on ice if the angle was within forty- fivedegrees, and we gave them loose reins, and freedom tofind their own way down.There was one spot where the descent became suddenlyinore steep. Mohammed had kept his feet and his temper well till he reached it, and then his self-control wasgone. He could not stand it, and, to my very near overthrow, he went off like an arrow. There was perhapsthree hundred feet of descent to be accomplished, anddown we went. Ile must have cleared thirty feet atevery leap, and, looking behind me, I saw the bay andthe chestnut following. There was a grove of olive- treesahead, and we went through them, dodging the limbswith difficulty. I believe the only accident of the descentwas Miriam's loss of a part of her riding-dress on a bush,as she went over it. It was next to miraculous that wereached the bottom alive.Our route now lay over the south-east side of MountHermon. For some hours we continued to ascend, untilwe were among thick fogs, and nearly frozen with cold.It was late in the afternoon when the weather partiallycleared off, and the wind was now exceedingly piercing.We were approaching the country in which we had beenassured we should have danger. We had looked carefullyto our arms in the morning. We did not much else withthem in all our travels than to look at them. Yet theirpresence when others looked at them was always impressive; and there were several instances in which I think Ishould have suffered but for the silent arguments of thehandles of pistols in my shawl.I rode this day, somewhat rudely, it is true, across aVIEW OF BANIAS. 407field of beans just springing up. I had missed the path,and was obliged to cross this to recover my way. A native, apparently a Druse, hailed me with loud shouts thatwere home-like. It was right pleasant to be warned offa man's lot of land. This was the first fellah, in all theEast, whom I had met that had enough spirit to do it.It was a matter of necessity for me, however, and Ilaughed and rode directly toward him. IIe swore at mein decided Bowery style, and even when I came nearhim continued his vociferations; but the sight of thecivilizers calmed him much, and I passed him in silence.Toward sunset, the road, which had been over high land,in close proximity to the snow banks on our left, begansuddenly and rapidly to descend in a mountain gorge,and at length we reached the fork of this with another.coming down from Mount Hermon. At this fork, downin the depth of the ravine, was a village whereof the nameis Beit Jin, the abode of the evil spirit.26.66The Dews of Hermon.' HA, Mohammed, thou seest not an open grave for thefirst time!"The horse had sheered suddenly, and nearly droppedme prematurely into the open bosom of earth; for a gravewas dug at the very side of the path, and not yet occupied. As we entered the village, a loud wailing, thatfilled the mountain gorge, and echoed from its sides,greeted our ears with strange effect . It indicated thedeath of some person of importance. We rode down thegorge to the lower end of the village, near a stone building that answered the purposes of a mosk. We dismounted in a grove of large trees, which we did notrecognize in their leafless state, but which we afterwardlearned were English walnut, the fruit of which is vulgarly known in America as Madeira-nut-and on thebank of a strong mountain torrent, whose origin was alarge spring higher up the valley, known to the nativesas Ain- el-lemy. Here we waited the arrival of the tentsand baggage, which we had passed on the mountain.This was a most picturesque site for a village. Thetwo mountain gorges, which came down to a point, wenton to the east in one deep ravine, whose sharp sides stoodup almost perpendicularly eight hundred feet; so thatlooking eastward we saw the sky cut down to a triangu-A MOSLEM VILLAGE. 409lar shape, and against it the sharp lines of the rocky cliff,while north, south, and west the blue was on the hill -tops,a thousand feet above us. The village was on the middlebluff, and on the north side of the ravine. The southside of the south branch, and of the main ravine, was occupied by the graves of the villagers. The living wereover-against the dead.The inhabitants ofthat half of the village on the middlebluff were all Shereef, descendants of the Prophet, whilethe ordinary Mussulmans lived on the north side of thestream . This is the river Sebarini, which flows down tothe great plain of Damascus.OneWe climbed the bluff to examine some rock-tombs overthe village of the Shereef, facing down the ravine.was very large, containing nine apartments, separated bysquare stone columns supporting arched roofs, and eachchamber containing couches similar to those around Jerusalem .There were some very curious tombs near this, entirelydifferent from any thing I had seen or heard of in anyother part of the world. They were hewn into the perpendicular face of the rock, and shaped for the receptionoftwo sarcophagi. The front or doorway, which was ofthe same shape and size as the interior, was almost coffinshaped, about six feet high, but in the longer sides ofthecoflin, about half the height of the door, were elbows,making the upper part suddenly a foot wider than thelower. Thus one sarcophagus could be placed in thelower part and another above it, resting on these ledgesor elbows.While we were looking at the tombs we heard thewailing in the village below us suddenly grow louder, andsaw women running up and down the street with disheveled clothes and faces exposed, indicating the utmostabandonment to grief. Afewmoments later a procession 18410 A BURIAL.was formed in front of one of the principal mud houses,and with loud cries and wailings marched toward thegrave, the occupancy of which I had escaped. They carried four large, gorgeous silk banners, whose vast foldswaved furiously in the wind that swept down the valley.By these we knew that a descendant of the Prophet hadgone to his ancestor's place.Four strong men carried a bier on their shoulders,upon which lay the body of a man, with his face exposed.We descended the hill, and reached the burial- place justas the procession did. It was our intention to stand at adistance and witness the ceremonies; but so soon as theysaw us approaching, the group of a hundred men andwomen parted, leaving an open line up to the head ofthegrave. An old man, the sheik of the village pro tem.,walked down toward us, and led us to the side of theshallow resting-place, near which the dead man was nowlying on the bier..From the first we had observed that there was something unusual in all this scene. I had seen some scores,not to say hundreds, of Moslems hurried into the grave,but I had never seen as slow and impressive mourning asthis; and the fact that we were received with such markedattention added to my conviction that it was not an ordinary occasion.There were four old men standing at the head of thegrave, whose turbans and white beards made them seemremarkably venerable. One of them, as we came near,laid his hand on my shoulder, and in a broken voice, fullof pain and yet full ofpassion, said , “ Mafish Sultan, MafishPasha, Bus Druse" -" there is no sultan, there is nogovernor-nothing but Druses. "The whole truth flashed on me in an instant. This manhad been shot by a Druse. Then, before they buriedhim, the old man addressed us across the grave; and weTHE DRUSES. 411stood, three Americans, surrounded by a hundred wildlooking Moslems, while he related to us, in simple andtouching eloquence, the story of their wrongs.There was no romance about it at all. It was a simple,stern history of trial, trouble, wrong, and death, and wewere appealed to as foreigners who might aid the villagers in obtaining justice from the government, which wasrefused to their solicitations.Beit Jin is a Moslem village in the heart of the Drusecountry.The Druses are originally an offshoot of the Mohammedans, and trace their origin to the Egyptian crazy Kalif, El Hakim . No man is able to say what is their creed,or what their worship, for it is conducted in profoundsecrecy in hidden places, to which no Moslem, Christian,stranger, or uninitiated Druse is admitted. None butthe faithful of their own sect, and few of these, know anything of their worship. With the rest, it is blind faiththat it is all right, and they don't know whether theyworship God or the devil. But enmity to the Mussulmanhas always been a part of Druse faith and practice, andas Beit Jin has always been regarded as a nuisance fromits isolated position among them, there had now beengoing on, for a long time, a war of extermination againstit* inhabitants. Fifteen had been shot within three months-shot down in the fields by assassins lurking behind rocks,It was no unusual thing for a bullet to come down throughthe side of a house in the village, in the night, sent at random from some high rock a thousand feet above the village, by a Druse. This man, now dead, had been themost valiant defender of the village, and with his ownhand had killed five Druses. This morning, while walking in a field on the edge of the village, he was shot deadby an unknown foe. The villagers had in vain appealedto the Pasha of Damascus for protection. All that the412 THE BURIAL.pasha did for them was to collect the annual tax. Hecared nothing for their troubles, and the sheik was nowat Damascus endeavoring to procure aid against theirfoes.Such was the story that the old man told us over thepale face ofthe dead man, to which he pointed as a mutebut powerful witness of its truth, and the others, hisbrothers and the brothers of the silent witness, bowedtheir heads in solemn asseveration that it was truc.When he had concluded, they addressed themselves tothe task of burying their dead, and lifting the bodyfrom the bier, laid it down in the shallow grave. He wasa tall, strong man. His features were set in a rigid expression of defiance, and it was a relief to have that fiercecountenance covered out of sight. They laid him on hisside, with the palm of his right hand under his check, hisface toward the grave of the Prophet and the holy Kaabaat Mecca, for thus the Prophet himself lies at Medinah,and his followers lie thus around that centre of the Moslem world. They placed sticks over him, pushing theends into the ground on each side ofthe body, and arching them above him. It is customary in Constantinopleand other places, where they can procure boards, to placethem in the grave, one end over the feet of the body andthe other nearly at the top of the grave. The earth isthen heaped over these. By this means a place is left inwhich the dead man can sit up erect when the two angelscome to question him, as all good Moslems expect to bequestioned. But this was neglected here, and the littlecovering of sticks being completed, they threw in somebrush, and then the earth.Before doing this, all the company sat down on theground, and we sat down also, and the old man led themin a droning song that was terribly melancholy. Thenthe grave was filled , and we walked away to our tents.MIRIAM'S TENT. 413I can not say that the circ*mstance made us verycomfortable in our tents. I had had some experience ina very common oriental plan of annoyance, which wasbased on the fact that the government always holds avillage responsible for the lives and property of travelersresting in it. If any knowing Druse should see fit tosend a ball down on a roving expedition through ourtent, he might get his Beit Jin enemies into a scrape,out of which they would hardly extricate themselves byattempting to prove that a Druse did it."You should have guarded the strangers better," is thegovernment reply to such a plea.The night was cold and cloudy, and a gale of windswept down the valley, threatening to tear the tents awayfrom over our heads. I ordered the men to watch during the night, and after one of our merriest evenings inthe tent, over coffee and chibouks, we separated.My tent was on the outside ofthe three. Whitely andMoreright were in the middle, and the kitchen tent nextthe village and the bank of the stream. Miriam was soonsound asleep. It is astonishing how easily a delicate woman can accommodate herself to circ*mstances. Shewould have taken cold at home if a window were left aninch open, and here, on the side of Mount Hermon, witha tempest blowing and flapping the canvas, filling andswelling the tents, straining the cords, and whistling overthem, a mountain stream brawling and raging before thedoor, she lay on a small iron bedstead, raised a few inches.above the bare, damp ground of the valley, with the fullconsciousness of the presence of lurking enemies on thehill- side, who might at any moment send the messengerof death down through the thin wall of our home, andyet she slept as quietly, serenely, and calmly, as if athome in our own land.I felt uneasy, and could not sleep. The pegs of the414 AN ENEMY.tent-cords jerked out several times, and the tent hadnearly gone, but Selim and Dib, two of the muleteers,were on the watch, and replaced them. At length, abouttwo o'clock, they gave out, in a terrible gust of wind, andas no one touched them, I knew that my guard wereasleep, and sprang out just in time to rescue the wholeestablishment. Driving in the pegs, I went over to thekitchen tent and found the guard oblivious under its lee.I kicked them up, and returned to my own place, butpaused as I was entering, to glance over the sides of thevalley, lit now by the misty rays of a full moon, shiningthrough a haze that threatened a storm. There was onerocky point that I had noticed before dark as commanding our position most beautifully, and on this I fixed myeyes now more intently than elsewhere. Was it imagination, or did I see a moving object on the surface of theflat rock? The moonlight certainly shone on something,though I could not see distinctly what it was, that wasnot rock. If it were a man why did he not now dropme? He had a beautiful shot as I stood out in my blackboornoose against the white tent. I was not altogethereasy at that instant. I had the sensation of an enteringbullet in my throat, breast, brain-I couldn't tell exactlywhere it would hit-but I felt it somewhere generally, asa hoosier might say.At all events I could not go to sleep with that fellowlying on the rock, and now I began to reason on this wise.If it is a man he must be an enemy. A friend wouldhave no business there, and a villager would not be there.He can't be there with reference to any one else, for hisposition commands our tents and not the village. Hemust be watching us, and if so, it is for no good—andas I reasoned I had gone into the tent, taken out mysmall volcanic pistol, which carried a ball an immensedistance and was much preferable to Colt's for sharpTHE COOK'S BRAVERY . 415shooting, and returned to the front of the tent. I continued my reasoning. Shall I call Selim? No, for theDruse, if it be one, will see that we are talking abouthim. Shall I send a ball up at him? If I do I must hithim, or he will hit me, as certainly as I fire. In short, Imust bring him down, so here goes, and I threw up mypistol and sent a conical ball, whistling as those hollowballs always go, into the very brain of the man, if it werea man, but, as it proved, into the breast of a gray wolf,that was waiting for a chance at the bones of Selim andBetuni. The yell of his pain went down the valley withthe sound of the pistol, and he came rolling and tumbling,tearing his own flesh and yelling with agony, almost tomy very feet. Selim despatched him with a knife, and Ileft him lying before Hajji Mohammed's tent, to stiffen inposition and frighten my worthy cook, when he shouldturn out in the morning. I had no more restlessness afterthat, but slept soundly.I was roused, at daylight, by a shout. It woke meand then ceased. There was a quiet hush in the air andon the tent, a soft, low murmur that contrasted strangelywith the howling tempest in which I had fallen asleep.The next moment I heard a scuffle and shouts fromseveral ofthe men. I understood it at once, and sprangto the door of the tent. There were six inches of snowon every thing. Whitely and Moreright were alreadylooking out. Hajji Mohammed awoke early and, withhis eyes half open, lifted his tent door-curtain, and sawthe wolf waiting for him. His shout was what I heardfirst. Ferrajj was roused by it and looked out, and Abdel-Atti, and Selim, and Betuni, with the other men, camearound to see the fun. For the cook had seized a knife,and, thinking it was for life or death, threw himself onthe enemy, utterly heedless of the snow whichlay on him.and showed that he was cold and dead. The others416 DISSIPATION!shouted, and when I looked out there was a confusedheap of turbans, loose pantaloons, cook, and wolf in thesnow. I didn't think there was so much pluck in theEgyptian. At length they pulled him off, and I foundthat my joke had spoiled the skin of the animal, for thecook's knife had slashed it terribly.But our position was decidedly cool. It was snowingfast, faster and faster-by nine o'clock we had a foot ofit over tents and baggage. To go on was out of thequestion, since the mules could not carry wet tents, nor,indeed, travel safely in the snow. We accordingly madeourselves comfortable in the tents. We built an extemporaneous furnace of stone and mud, and kept a brightfire going all day, while the snow fell fast and furious.It was a strange scene, as one may well imagine, and ahappy one withal, as the day wore on. We had books,but what were books when three American gentlemenand one lady were snow-bound on the side of MountHermon? There was one bottle of Marsala, lately discovered in the canteen, kept for a special occasion , andwasn't this just that occasion? There was a plenty ofthe Galilean wine of Tiberias, and didn't we mull it andmake glorious mixtures, wherewith Whitely drank to thebright eyes of Sarai of Tiberias? There was, by somocurious accident, a drop of brandy left in my large flaskin the luncheon bag, and, with a lemon and some sugar,didn't we have a hot mixture, that took off the chill ofthe dews of Hermon? and, while this was going on, didn'twe send Ferrajj into the village for all the milk and eggsand salt he could find, and therewith prepare a custard,to be frozen with snow and salt into an ice cream, to cooloff the heat of the mixture? and didn't Miriam set thecustard out in the snow to cool? and didn't Ferrajj comein with the empty dish, a while after, and say, " Mum,the dogs, mum, " whereat we all shouted with laughterHIRING A HOUSE. 417except only Miriam, whose face was terrible to the dogs.of Beit Jin, and did we not tell old and pleasant storiesand sing old and pleasant songs, and dine sumptuously inthe evening, and sleep right gloriously under the fastfalling snow? Yea, all this we did, and, in the morning,the white snow lay deep on tent, and valley, and hill, andfell yet faster than before. But it was warmer than thefirst day, and the snow began to melt on the tents. Thiswould soon soak them and make them too heavy for themules, and we accordingly decided to hire a house inBeit Jin "for the winter."It was difficult to procure one, but at length Abd-elAtti found a Moslem family that were willing, " for a consideration," to let their house to Christians, and clearingthem out, bag and baggage, we moved in.The house was a specimen of the village architectureof Lebanon. All the houses are alike. Stone walls,plastered within and without with mud; a roof made bylaying long poplar-trees across from wall to wall, pilingbrush on these, and covering the brush with mud andgravel, which is rolled hard with a stone roller, an instrument that is seen on every house-top, and usuallymade of the broken column of an ancient building.There was but one room in the house: of this the floorand sides were plastered smooth, hard, and clean, withgood lime plaster. There were no windows. The corner of the room was a chimney; four feet from the floor,there was a sort of wall built across the corner, veryneatly and curiously ornamented, by twisting twigs andcovering them with plaster. It looked like a huge confectionary ornament. But under this we kept a blazingfire all day, and lived as we had lived the day beforein the tents, barring the Marsala and the cau de vie,which we had exhausted.Blessings on the man who invented smoking tobacco.18*418 IN PRAISE OF TOBACCO .Who he was remains to be seen, and I have had numerousdiscussions in the East on the question, whether the Turkslearned to smoke from the North American Indians,by way of Spain and the Mediterranean countries, orwhether it is an older custom with them. I suppose theymust have learned it from the Europeans, or otherwisethe Spaniards and Englishmen would not have been soastonished as they are represented to have been at thefirst sight of a cigar.But, blessings on the first smoker. If he were a NorthAmerican, and I could find his grave, I would erect amonument over him, “ regali situ pyramidum altius,” andinscribe it with a grateful legend ..You may prate if you will of the vile weed and uncleanly habit, you who prefer to breathe into your lungsthe foul breath of every feverish throat, rather than thesame purified by fragrant smoke; you may abuse theluxury, who know nothing of the delicate and deliciouskief, that indescribable calm, that perfect content andcomfort that the chibouk inspires. I laugh to hear mentalk against tobacco. They might as well preach to menot to love the odor ofroses or the fragrant mignionette,as not to grow quiet on the perfume of Tombak, orsleepily happy on glorious Latakea.Our room was twenty feet square, and the ceiling eightfeet high. This was the whole house. We brought ourPersian carpets and Nubian mats, our beds and bedding,camp-stools, table, and table furniture, and stretching oneof the tent-cloths across the room divided it, so thatMiriam had her part separate.In the evening we had a pleasant incident that is worthrecording. We had supposed that none but Mussulmanswere in the village. As we sat talking, a boy was usheredin, who wished to see the Howajjis. He was a youngArab, about twelve years old, and had in his hand an oldA PLEASANT INCIDENT. 419and badly-worn book, without beginning or ending. Hewanted to know if we had any more of it for him. Itwas a puzzling question. On examination we found thathis book was an Arabic copy of the Psalms of David, andthe boy was a Christian. He said he had a father andbrother in the village, and they were the only Christianshere. He wanted a Bible; he had no book but this, andhe knew there was more of it—or if not, there must bemore books like it—and he begged hard for one. Wesent him for his father and brother, and they came, andwe made the boys read aloud, which they did, in countryschool fashion at home, with voices pitched high, andloud intonation. I never regretted any thing more thanI did our not having what he wanted; but Morerightpromised him a Bible, and sent it afterward from Damascus. This family were Maronites.That night was superb. Standing in front of the doorof our house (our house! ) on the hill-side, and lookingdown the ravine, the blue sky contrasting with the moonlit snow, and the high black rocks, the strange village,the gaping tombs in the front of the opposite bluff, I feltan exultation in the splendor of the scene, which I cannot hope to make my reader a partaker of. As I stood,looking eastward, a grand meteor went flashing down theeastern sky, right down the ravine, whither our path ledtoward Damascus, and with this omen of good beforeme, I slept that night right peacefully.27.Eden and a Daughter of Ebe.EVERY one has heard of Mohammed's refusal to enterDamascus, lest the enjoyment of one paradise, the fullprivilege of any man here on the earth, should bar himfrom the eternal paradise of God. The valley long agowas called Beit Eden, the abode of Eden.The beautiful appearance of the city and the plain isvastly enhanced by the wild, mountainous, or desertcountry through which the traveler has passed to reach it.The streams of the Sebarini, and other fountains, forming the Awaj on the south, and the great stream of theBarrada on the north, come down out of the Anti-Lebanon range, and emerge on a vast plain, which is nearlya water-level for twenty miles by six. The outer andmore remote parts of this are grain fields, watered byartificial canals from these two rivers. In the centre ofthe plain is a vast, dense grove of trees, of every variety offruit and appearance. Rising among these are thetowers and the minarets of Es Shem, the city of Eleazarservant of Abraham, the old Damascus.We left Beit Jin at nine in the morning. The snowwas fast disappearing; and as we descended toward theplain, we found that there had been none. At twelve, wepassed Kafr Howaran, "a village of the Howaran," or,otherwise, " a village of Houries;" but, as we were in theDAMASCUS. 421district called Howaran, and did not see any houries, Itake it the first is the more likely interpretation . Thereis a fine ruin in the village, which I glanced at, but didnot pause to examine. I believe that this is the traditionaltomb of Nimrod, but in this I may be in error. At two,as we were crossing a high ridge of the rolling land whichconnects the side of Mount Hermon with the valley ofDamascus, we caught a distant but fine view of the city,and hoped to reach it by night; but evening overtook usat Artous on the plain, and we encamped here. Nextmorning we rode on over the plain; interested in observing men opening the canals, and turning on water byhour-glasses, and at length coming between fences builtof mud, by a process of boxing up mud in the shape ofgiant bricks, four feet by three by one, and letting themdry in position, and among groves of apricot, and walnut,and almond- trees, now in fragrant bloom, and at lengthto the gate of the city that is called the heart of theCrient.Through long winding streets, densely crowded bazaars,by the open doors of steaming baths and dirty coffee,houses, we passed to the house of one Germanus, kept asa hotel, where we were to lodge. He showed us througha court-yard, with a fountain in the centre, and orangeand lemon-trees, loaded with fruit, around it, into a largeroom, of which the central part was on a level with thecourt. One side ofit was an alcove, raised by two steps,on which were diwans. The other two sides were alsoalcoves, in each of which was a bed. The ceiling wasthirty feet high, gilded , and ornamented with arabesquepatterns, and in the centre of the room was a bubblingfountain.Fountains are the enemies of the visitor in Damascus.Wherever he goes he meets with dashing water, and it ishard work to prevent his being put in a room with a bub-422 MOSK OF YEYE.bling, gurgling fountain, to keep him awake all night, andgive him a rheumatism in the morning, if he be inclinedto such out-of-joint complaints.We rejected the room instanter, preferring one whichwas only twenty feet square, with a ceiling thirty feethigh, and looking much more cozy and comfortable.Having made ourselves at home, shaken out the bends inour knees, which long riding on horseback had nearlyconfirmed, and gotten out some respectable dress, by wayof contrast with our late travel- stained garments, we flattered ourselves that we did not look much like inhabitantsofBeit Jin on the side of Mount Hermon.There is little of antiquity in Damascus to interest thetraveler. The mosk of Yeye, which is the Mohammedanstyle of pronouncing the name of John, or, rather, theMohammedan name of John the Baptist and all ancientJohns, is an immense building, which was once a Christian church. It was probably built in the time of Justinian, and originally dedicated to the Baptist. When theMoslems became masters of the city, it was at firstdivided between Christians and Moslems, but at lengthconverted-in the Moslem style of conversion, by steeland fire-into a mosk, still dedicated to John, whosehead is said to be in some part of it. Entrance to itis forbidden to Christians; a prohibition amounting tonothing, since there is little object in going further thanthe doorway, whence we could look into the great court,surrounded by columns, and paved with stones worn toglassy smoothness by the knees and the bare feet of theworshipers.Near the mosk, spanning the street which leads to itsprincipal entrance, and on the line of a cross street, bothof which are roofed over in the style of eastern bazaars,are the remains of a grand pediment, supported on fourmassive columns, which once doubtless belonged to aAROUND DAMASCUS. 423temple. The space between the two middle columns ismuch greater than between the others. The columnsare visible in the streets below, one of which passes between the middle pillars, but we had to enter a door andclimb a narrow dark stairway to the roofs of the houses,over which we made our way some distance to the upperpart of the pediment, being then on a level with the capitals of the columns. The architecture is of the floridCorinthian, abounding in the ruins of northern Syria.The pediment was broken by a great arch springing fromthe second to the third column, suggesting the idea thatit may have been a triumphal arch, but this is an unusualshape for such a structure.The remains are imposing. Their solitary appearance,towering above the roofs of Damascus in lonesomegrandeur, is very impressive.We rode out of the city one day to make a completecircuit of it, taking as our guide Ibrahim, an old Jew,who made his home in Germanus's hotel, and who is acharacter well known to travelers who have visited thecity.Mounted on the white horse of Ferrajj, he rode in advance of us, first down the " strait street," on which stoodthe house of Judas, with whom Paul lodged, and thenout of the Pilgrim's gate. We rode a little way underthe wall of the city, glancing up at the spot where tradition said that Paul was let down when he escaped, andthen turning to the south, we went out to the outer citywall of the Protestant cemetery, which lies a half a mileor so from the city, and near the spot pointed out as thescene of the conversion of Saul. Looking at the latter,which is marked by a sort of arch or grotto open on eachside, dug through a conglomerate that seems much morelike gravel than like rock, and which has stood in this position for some hundred years, appearing all the time as if424 HEART OF ORIENT.it were dug yesterday and would fall to-morrow, we rodeon to the cast among the gardens and groves that surround the city. It was a wilderness of beauty. Coming as we did from months of travel in the desolate landof Canaan, where a dry, cold olive grove was a delight tothe eyes, and where fruit-trees and blossoms were as rareas angels' visits in these modern days, we were in anccstasy ofadmiration at every thing. The air was loadedwith perfume. The groves in which the apricot aboundedwere gay with blushing blossoms. The whole scene wasone of fairy land, bowers for princesses and gardens ofdelight for kings. Nowwe began to realize some ofthestories of Arabian Nights, and appreciate the descriptionsoforiental gardens.But still the city itself, Damascus within the walls, wasnot as " oriental" as Cairo. Cairo is the perfection oftheEast, and he who has seen it will see here nothing in external appearance so answering his expectations of theOrient. Nowhere else will he find those dark, narrowstreets, with lofty houses, and interlacing windows, northose exquisite lattices of strange and elaborate patterns,every one of which was a day's study. But within thehouses themselves, and outside the walls of the city,Damascus is magnificence.Returning from a three hours' ride on the north side ofthe city-we had gone around the eastern end, crossingthe Barada as it flows out of the city-we found ourselvesat the gate of a private place, concealed from the road bya high stone wall, but commanding a view of it from itsoverhanging windows that projected above the street.The story which I am about to relate, and which cameto my knowledge behind the wall, within this inclosure, isno fiction. There are realities that surpass romance. Ifyou wish a history of passion, the story of a wild and reckless life, the life of one, young, beloved, beautiful, and no-A TALE OF PASSION. 425ble, sacrificed to the mad passion of a woman's love, astory of western life surpassing the tales of the Orient,one of this year in which I live and write, surpassingthose of the days of Haroun- el-Raschid, all that is here.It was a strange place to hear the story, but I heard iteven there.Among the fair ladies in the court of St. James, therewere none more fair and beautiful than Ianthe, daughterof a line that was ancient and noble in the days of thefirst Charles, and that has, in all times, claimed rank inEngland second only to the blood royal.I do not testify from hearsay when I say that she wasbeautiful, for I have seen her on her white Arabian ofthe Khamsa, stately in the decay of splendid beauty,splendid yet, and I have seen her picture, by an artist ofno small renown, taken when she was eighteen, andthe bride of one of the proudest lords in England. Herface was one of gentle and exquisite beauty. I could notbelieve it possible that one so beautiful could sin sodeeply and have so dark a fall, nor did I realize it but bymy old resort in remembering that the star of the morning, on the right hand of God, fell, and I could not expect that she would be more proud of her lineage thanLucifer ofhis throne.The story of her love and marriage is not for thesepages or these years. There are hearts in old Englandthat cling to her yet, despite her wild career, and the talewould shock them were it printed as I have heard it.Nor would I tell the tale at all but that I have seen itprinted in an English volume, and in the English papersfrom time to time, until she has become public propertyin every sense of the word, and I can not, therefore, seoany reason for suppressing it.She married the man she did not love. His nameis known to the world. He is a peer of distinction,426 THE OLD STORY .second only, I believe, of the line, but bearing a namethat he has made distinguished on both sides of theworld.I shudder when I compare the present with the past.She was very young, and very gentle, and very beautiful. Let us not discuss the long-ago discussed question,whether such marriages do not charge on their originators the sins that follow them. She whose wealth wasuntold, whose presence in lordly mansions was a joy,whose face was a light even in the blaze of Londonbeauty, whose home was the abode of splendor, luxury,and magnificence, had yet a woman's heart and a woman'slove and, woman-like, was betrayed and abandoned.It was the old story, the old and horrible story. Shesacrificed all for him, her first love, a German baron, andas very a hound as ever missed his proper place, and wasborn into life a man.So soon as the House of Lords had granted the divorcewhich her husband applied for, she went to Italy and metthis German dog. He made her the toy of an hour, andthen abandoned her forever. But the change had comeover her that comes so often over the wronged woman.She was a child no longer, and she who had been the delight of royal assemblies, the gentle girl of Cumberland,the young and radiant bride of the brilliant court of St.James, worshiped as a star, beautiful, but unapproachable, glorious, but distant, warm, loving, maddening inher radiance, but yet a pure star of those azure distances,she became the wild devotee of passion, the priestess ofpleasure, a beautiful, magnificently beautiful, Bacchante.There were no limits to the extravagance and recklessness of her life. Possessed, by the terms of the divorce,of an income sufficient to maintain a style of living equalto her tastes, she was the leader of that large class whichis found in Italy, made up of the victims of modernHER FALL. 427society and of their own sins, in which beautiful womenfind no difficulty in surrounding themselves with circlesof brilliant wit, and all the accomplishments that makethe passing life one of gayety and pleasure. Her devotion to a gay life was complete and absolute. Thestar that had been as pure as Merope before her fall, became a mortal form, beautiful, but polluted, mouldedafter the divinity of Eve, but free to the embraces of allher sons.Let us pass over years whose history is reserved for theblackness of darkness.There was in the service of king Otho of Greece acertain Count, who was noto verstocked with money.There were also at Athens two ladies who led easy lives;one, the celebrated duch*ess de P——, and the other theEnglish countess now bearing the name of a husband towhom she had been married in Italy, but whom she hadabandoned. The count proposed to marry her, and sheassented, and became his wife. But the queen was scandalized at the connection, and gave the count notice toquit her service or discharge his wife. He thought ithard, for with the wife he had married an income ofover seven thousand dollars a-year, which was a princelyfortune there; but the queen was inexorable. Thinkingthat the office and position at court were a permanency,and the wife quite the contrary, especially judging fromthe past, he obeyed the royal mandate and moved out ofhis lady's establishment.It is charitable to suppose that at this time the mind ofthe beautiful lady had become shattered. Yet there arethose who knew her best who deny it, and assert thatshe remains sane, but that her wild propensities are theresult of her early life, and first great trial. It wasenough to madden any woman: and one so young, andone so worshiped, might well grow mad to find herself a428 THE COUNTESS IANTHE.wanderer. Had there been then one to take her handand hold her back from perdition! But there wasnone.Why or how she went from Greece I do not know,but she was next heard of in Damascus; and there theromance of her life ceased, or dwindled down to theridiculous. It sounds well in England, indeed , and ifit iswicked, it has, nevertheless, a tone of adventurous life tohear that Ianthe, Countess of - has married a sheikof the Anazees, and lives in a tent on the plains of Palmyra, among the ruins of Tadmor in the wilderness.But alas for the truth of the story! Going downto Palmyra from Damascus she was attacked by Bedouins. Her guard was a small party of Anazees, underone Medjuel, an inferior sheik, if sheik at all, a miserable, dirty little Bedouin, whom one would kick outof his way, and who, if once caught on the mountains ofLebanon by the Druses, will have a bullet through hishead in a twinkling, and die unknown, and rot unburied.According to the lady, he performed prodigies of valorin her defence, and brought her safely back to Damascus.Here is what she says of it. I copy exactly from theregister ofGermanus's hotel, in Damascus:“J'ai passé dix jours dans cet hôtel, pendant lesquels j'ai eté parfaitement satisfaite des bons soins du maitre. Je prends aussi cette occasionde recommander le Scheik Médjuel chefdes Anazzés à tout voyageur quodesire entreprendre le voyage de Palmyre l'ayant trouvé parfaitementcapable et digne de confiance sous tous les rapports."Damasco, 13 Juin, '53.""COMTESSEThe name after Comtesse had been something like Peritoki, which was her name in Greece; but it was erasedand written over with another name, by her own hand,at a later date, and this was so blotted as to be illegible.The countess had a way of marrying. She had gottenMARRIAGE TO A BEDOUIN. 429into it by a sort of habit, and could not keep out of it.She astonished Medjuel one day at the hotel in Damascus,after her safe return from Palmyra, by telling him thatshe intended to marry him. He was so frightened at theidea that he vanished, and was seen no more. She hiredcertain of his tribe to bring him back, who found him atPalmyra, and persuaded him to return. She renewedthe proposition, and at length obtained his consent byshowing him the wealth she was able to bring him.The English consul interfered to prevent such a disgraceful occurrence, but she laughed at him. The resident Turkish governor was induced to take it in hand,and sending for Medjuel, told him that the woman hadseveral husbands living already, and warned him of hisintended interference with their rights, and of the dutyhe should feel to allow their claims if any of them cameafter her. Medjuel was again scared, and again disappeared. She sent for him, but in vain, and at length showent after him herself. She found him on the desertnear Palmyra, and was there married to him by the Bedouin ceremony, without other witnesses than his Arabcompanions.She then purchased, in his name, a fine house and gardens outside the walls of Damascus, and made it herhome, being there part of the time, and in his tent the. rest of it.It was at the door of this villa that we now paused fora moment, not hoping to obtain admittance; but havingknocked, we were not a little gratified at the sight of aEuropean face within the doorway. A French maid, thecompanion of all the lady's wanderings, was in charge ofthe house. Her mistress was absent at Palmyra. Shevery politely invited us to enter, and showed us theestablishment.It would be tedious to mention all the adornments of•430 HER BOUDOIR.the rooms and grounds, but there were two in which welingered with more interest than elsewhere. I think Imay escape the censure of one who interferes with theprivacies of domestic life in describing these rooms, sincethe life of this lady has already been made quite as mucha matter of public notoriety as that of Lady Hester Stanhope, whom I think she, in some respects, desires to imitate.They opened on each side of an open alcove. The onewas her bed-room, the other her boudoir. The formerwas furnished in gorgeous style. The hangings were ofthe heaviest damask, the floor carpeted with the mostcostly fabrics of Persian looms. It was a reminiscence ofher early life that she had revived in Damascus, by importing from France this costly furniture, which I havenever seen surpassed in the bed-chambers of royalty inEuropean palaces.But there were reminiscences of her girlhood in theboudoir that must sometimes have thrilled her now coldheart. There was a portrait of her father, a brave andgallant servant of the king, wearing the uniform of hishigh rank, and looking kindly on the strange scene.There was a portrait of herself, in a gorgeous frame ofpurple velvet and gold, and there she could see what sheonce was when worshiped as the star of St. James.There was a picture, containing portraits of two children, long since dead, her children, the children of herbrief honored married life-one of whom, I have heard,lived to be the affianced wife of a royal prince, who diedbefore the marriage, but I do not know if this be true.In the corner there were books, some of which were thefamiliar books of Christian children, " Daily Food, " andsimilar collections, and one, " Marriage au point de vueChrétien" (! ) and Lynch's " Dead Sea Expedition , " andRobinson's " Biblical Researches, " and many others thatI recognized.A DAUGHTER OF EVE. 431On the table lay several magnificent folios, bound indark morocco, and on the side of each was a coronet ofgold, with the simple name, " Ianthe. " They were filledwith oil and water-colored drawings ofher own, sketchesof home-scenes in old England, of views in Switzerlandand elsewhere in her wanderings."Madame prends toujours son diner ici," said thelady's maid."Avec le Scheik Medjuel?""Certainement. ""Et comment?"" Sur le tapis-comme-ça," and she sat down on thecarpet, with her feet out of sight, and showed us precisely how the countess now lives and how she catsfrom a platter on the floor, Arab fashion, with her fingers,and with her Arab hound of a husband opposite to her.She has expended large sums of money on the place, allofwhich, of course, she has given to Medjuel.When the whim changes she will go. He contractedwith her that she was never to require him to go west ofDamascus before he would marry her.Verily there be daughters of Eve in Beit Eden, who,taking not their mother's lesson, lose themselves for trifles,28.Damascus.ONE morning, as Miriam, Whitely, and I were strollingup the great bazaars of Damascus, looking very much asverdant people look who visit the city for the first time,and stare into shop-windows, with open eyes and mouth-only the shop- windows were all doors, or, rather, theshops were nothing but windows, immense open windowsthat opened into little closets full of shelves, each with agray-bearded Turk sitting in solemn silence with chiboukto his lips, on the front of it, as we were thus walkingalong, intent on silks and shawls of all rare and shiningvarieties, we were surprised by an address in English."Why you no tell me you no want my house?"Looking around, I recognized a young Armenian Christian, whom I had seen before.We had talked of taking a house in Damascus. Whynot? We had done so in Jerusalem for a month, and inBeit Jin for a day, and why not in Damascus for a week?We did not like Germanus's arrangements. Wefoundwithal that we could not make a purchase in Damascus,large or small, without Germanus or his brother, or Ibrahim, or some one ofthe family suddenly appearing at themoment the sale was concluded, and in time to ascertainhow much we paid and what commission he should collect. For Germanus has a plan that hotel-keepers mayDAMASCUS KHANS. 433do well to profit by, of charging all merchants a commission on all goods purchased by lodgers at his house,whether he goes with them to the shops or not.Wewent to look at Meluk's house. It was a perfect little gem in its way, furnished in the perfection of easternsplendor, with damask diwans and Persian carpets, silvernarghilehs and amber-mouthed chibouks. He was verypolite withal, and offered us the house freely, but, at thesame time, telling us that there were reasons why heshould prefer that we should find a place elsewhere, thechiefof which was a ceremonial observance the family wasthen engaged in, on account of the recent death of hisfather.We could not say we did not like the house, and lefthim without an answer. He accosted us in the street,and now, for the first time, we learned that he was thelargest silk manufacturer in Damascus.He took us into his room. It was in one of the largekhans which abound here. They are built uniformlyaround a large covered court, in the centre of which is afountain. In this court camels deposit their goods. Twogalleries run around this, from which small store- roomsopen. He showed us quantities of the rich and exquisitegoods of Damascus, heavy silken scarfs of all the brilliantcastern dyes, wrought with gold and silver; there wereforty different patterns, each seeming more beautiful thanall the others, rich goods for dresses, table-covers, diwansand cushions, all of heavy silk, made more heavy withgold. There was a blaze of splendor that surpassed anything I had imagined. Gay and gorgeous as are the silkdepartments of our American shops, there is nothing inEurope or America to compare with this little second- storydark room of the Damascus khan.Germanus kept similar goods at the hotel, but askedhigher prices. We had not been five minutes in the19434 DAMASCUS HOUSES .room of Meluk, when old Ibrahim waddled in, to see thatwo mado no purchases without his knowledge, and, at myparticular request, waddled out again, with a message toGermanus, to keep him at home, blacking our boots,and not send him after us except when we told him todo so.The market for these Damascus goods is in the Turkishharcems. Few of our ladies imagine the splendor of dresswhich the oriental ladies indulge in. Diamonds, turquoise,pearls, and amber are as common in the hareem of awealthy pasha, as paint in the dressing-room of a tenyears old belle, and the ladies tear up and trample onsilks that a Broadway or avenue promenader would sel!her soul to possess.These silks have never been seen in the American market, and the fair purchasers of such articles have yet tosee more splendid products of the East than they havehitherto dreamed of.A subject of never-ending wonderment with me wasthe origin of the immense wealth of Damascus. For immense it is. There are hundreds of men who sit all daylong on the fronts of their little cupboard- shops in the bazaars, selling five, ten, or fifty piastres' worth ofgoods ina day, who live in palaces that surpass the most costlyAmerican houses, and reach the fabulous splendor of theArabian Nights.Externally, all the houses of Damascus are alike, plastered over with a yellowish stucco, or mud, and showingno windows on the street. They present, therefore, onlydead yellow walls on both sides of the way as you passalong. The doorway of carved wood is of more or lessbeauty. This opens to a court, paved with various- colored marbles, and adorned with a fountain, over whichhang oranges and other fruits in luxuriant beauty.The house of a wealthy Jew is said to be the finest inA JEW'S PALACE. 435the city. I was in it one morning. It is built on the general Damascus plan. A cross, the four arms of which areof equal length, is the ground plan of the court. Thearms of the cross are raised a foot or two from the levelof the court, and arched over, making four alcoves, fronting on the central fountain. The corners are then builtup with lofty and gorgeously adorned rooms. This housewas built of the finest Italian marble, brought on mulesfrom the sea coast.It was carved in all manner of quaint arabesque patterns. Clusters of golden fruits and flowers hung fromthe sides of the rooms and the ceilings. The doors werefinely carved and gilded. The furniture was superb. Oneof the alcoves was furnished with a single diwan, whichcost sixty-five thousand piastres-a New York lady mightbe contented with a sofa worth three thousand dollars,especially if it were as this was, a mere cushion of silkand gold, without any wood or iron about it. The entirehouse was furnished with silver articles-bowls, pitchers,narghilehs, perfume-bottles, cups, water-goblets, and everything that could be made of this metal.But, by way of illustration of oriental manners andcustoms, I may add that the lady who presided in thispalace, and who, being a Jewess, had no scruples aboutbeing seen by strangers, received us in a dress of calico,outrageously dirty, while her trowsers, once clean, lookedas if she had dragged them through all the mud of Damascus, and her hair had been destitute of a combing fora month. Notwithstanding this, a diamond, worth theprice of a German principality, shone in the centre ofher forehead, and another, on her finger, would havebought a New York up-town establishment, ladies, dresses,and all.The cost of building this house in Damascus had beenfifteen hundred thousand piastres (about seventy thousand436 THE SEVEN SLEEPERS.dollars) at the time of our visit, and was yet to be muchmore before it should be completed.We saw several other Damascus houses, some of whichhad inner courts and fountains, and groves of orange andlemon-trees, among which the ladies ofthe hareem restedin the long sunny days.I can not linger any longer in Damascus. I can notspeak of the baths in which the lazy Turks dreamed awaythe long days, nor of the kiosks on the banks of theBarada, where they smoked hashish, and forgot theProphet, nor of the vailed ladies that jostled against you,as you walked along the streets, or that threw up theirvails when they met the Franks, by chance, alone in aquiet street, and let the full lustre of their fair faces, andlarge, black eyes, flash with bewildering splendor on him,nor of the long mornings wasted on the shop-fronts of aTurkish vender of silks, smoking his chibouk, drinkinghis coffee, and beating down his prices, nor of the evenings in the house of Mohammed Effendi, the sword-merchant, who piled his floor with ancient Damascus blades,and Cashmere shawls (known to western purchasers bythe very curious name of camel's-hair), old china, cuficdishes of metal, rare jewels, coins, and ten thousand oddthings of vertu, nor how we climbed the walls of the oldcastle that forms so large a feature in the view of Damascus, and thence looked over the valley, and up at the hillof the Seven Sleepers-I say I can not pause to speak ofthese.I believe that the story ofthe Seven Sleepers is ofChristian origin, and was first related of certain youths of Ephesus, who refused to abjure their religion in the times ofthe Emperor Decius. But Mohammed (Koran, chapterxviii. ) adopted it , and changed it materially, and the Moslems of Damascus locate the scene of the sleep of threehundred and nine years on the side of the mountain over-AMERICAN MISSION. 437looking their city, where is now the mosk of the SevenSleepers.I shall not pause to explain, in full, the reasons forabandoning my projected journey to Nineveh. Enoughfor me to say that I was disappointed at finding that, inthe present state of the war, it was the height of madness, especially with a lady in the party, to attempt tocross the country east of Damascus, given over, as it nowwas, to roving bands of robbers, lawless, and owning noallegiance to any government or God. I abandoned theplan, therefore, with reluctance, but satisfied that I wasdoing the best under the circ*mstances, and that atanother day I might be able to accomplish what I nowleft unfinished . It was with reluctance that I turned myface toward Baalbec and the Mediterranean.There was an awful row in the entrance to the courtyard of the hotel just before we were ready to start,which, on examination, proved to be the process ofreducing the price of sundry goods which the dragomanof some newly arrived travelers was purchasing. Themarket-man made an exorbitant demand, and the dragoman thrashed him till he named a fair rate of bargain andsale, and' then all was quiet.I can not take leave of Damascus without expressingmy admiration of the mission of the Scotch Presbyterianchurch, in America, which is established here. I had thepleasure one morning of attending the school of MissDale, connected with the mission , and of observing thescholars' proficiency in their several studies. I wasdeeply impressed with the value and success of herlabors. The position occupied by the entire Americanmission among the natives, and the high respect felt andexpressed for them constantly, was a source of pride andgratification to all American travelers. I was particularlystruck with the affection expressed for Dr. Paulding,438 A CAMEL DRIVER'S GOAD.both here and at Zebdani, where he usually passes thesummer, and the great grief which his intended departure had caused.He and Mr. Fraser called to bid us good-by as wewere departing, and while we sat on our horses andtalked with them a few moments, an old man came upwith an armfull of camel goads, of which we boughtthree. Moreright lost his in Beyrout. Whitely, I amsorry to say, left his in a wine-shop between Civita Vecchia and Rome, where we stopped as we were posting upone hot day of the next summer, and I brought minehome. It is a stick worth possessing, a simple almondbranch with a cross- piece for a handle, a limb being cutoff with one branching from it, and the handle pointedsharp on both sides: with one side the driver can hook itin the camel's nose and draw his head down, or with theother he can goad him on. The peculiar interest in thestick is, that it is the same precisely that we find delineated on the Egyptian monuments as used three thousand years ago.We rode around town an hour looking for shot. I wasout of the article, and had much difficulty in procuringsome, but after a long search I found precisely what Iwanted, and thereby hangs a tale which will appear hereafter.As we rode out of the gate of the city, the guardstanding in the archway presented arms, expecting abucksheesh, and got it, and we then rode on across thevalley toward Sulghiyeh, the chief suburb of the city,which lies at the foot ofthe northern mountains, and is apeculiarly sacred place from its old mosks, and as theburial-place of many saints. Passing the village, wepaused on a knoll behind it that commanded a view ofthe plain, which may well rank with any view in theworld. This, and the view we had a half hour later fromWHEELED VEHICLES.▾ 439the summit of the hill, are celebrated in travel and story,being the same that frightened Mohammed away fromDamascus, lest he should lose heaven.The Awaj, or crooked river, coming into the plainfrom the south-west, and the Barada, from the northwest, water it, as I have already stated. The latterriver is probably the ancient Pharpar, and if so, theformer is undoubtedly the Abana. But nothing can beaffirmed of either. The Barada flows through the city,but is a yellow, muddy stream before it reaches the walls,although in the mountain it is very clear and fine. Bothrivers flow eastward to the great marshy lakes which lietwelve miles from Damascus, and are there lost. Thesandy soil and the rays of the hot sun absorb or dissipatethe waters.There was an old ruined mosk close by us, presentinga fine appearance of Gothic and Saracen architecturemingled, and beyond lay the gardens and palaces of thecity of Eden. For here of old was Beit Eden-theabode of Eden—and here might well have been the garden of Paradise.We saw in the open court of the fine house of RaifPasha, two wheeled carriages, one on four wheels, andthe other a sort of gig, which are worthy of mention asthe first and last wheeled carriages that we saw in Asia.I wonder how they got there, and what he does withthem, for there is not a road on which he can use them inor out of Damascus.It was a grand view, and I impressed it on my mind.forever. We stood in silence for a long while, gazing oncity and plain, and then waving our hands toward thecity for a last greeting, turned somewhat sadly away.Betuni had been sitting on his donkey, facing the cityalso, and the donkey and his rider were alike interestedin the view, and appreciated it equally well.440 BETUNI.As we moved on, Betuni rode up alongside, with aflourish of his turban and his bare, shorn head , rolling andshining in the sunlight, as he shouted, " Good-by, Mr.Damascus, How you do? Good-by, Mr. Damascus, " andplumped his donkey directly in front of Moreright, whorode with a free rein, and sat on his horse with perfectgrace, and who now rode down Betuni with a coolnessthat astounded me as much as him. The donkey staggered ten feet and fell, and Betuni was pitched ten further.The donkey was up first, and off like a dark streak oflightning, leaving the road strewed with feed-bags andsaddle-bags, boornooses, and other rags of Betuni's baggage, to say nothing of a dozen huge wafer-cakes of bread,two feet in diameter, and as thin as a knife-blade, whichBetuni had provided for his luncheon, and used on hisdonkey by way of a cushion in the meantime. By thetime the donkey reached the custom-house, there wasnothing to stop him for, and he went by, at a shufflinggallop, while we all followed, leaving Betuni to pick uphis traps and come on as he best might.The custom-house was a cavern at a narrow defile of theroad, cut through the rock, and not more than six feetwide; an excellent place to collect tolls on all goods comingfrom the sea, or going toward it. The guard shouted fora bucksheesh as we plunged by him, but we had paid ourutmost at the city gate, and so we rode on, up the steep,narrow, winding pass, to the summit of the hill, by thelittle Dome of Victory (Kubbet- el-Nasr) , and here pausedfor our last view of the magnificent valley. To one arriving here from among the gorges of Lebanon that we werenow about entering, it must be indeed a vision as of Paradise. Let me pause, a moment, here.In a distant land, on the summit ofLebanon, surroundedby dark-skinned Arabs, himself wearing the dress of thedesert, and the beard of the East, there stood, that calm,SO LONG! 441still morning, a young man, who, after far journeyings,had at last reached the extreme point of his wanderings,and turned his face once more to his father's home.Many and difficult had been the paths his feet had trodden from the days when that father first taught theirsteps. They had now borne him to the lands of the patriarchs, and prophets, and the Lord, and he thought togo back laden with rich treasures for the old man's ears,in the happy winter nights of home. Dark countenanceslooked on him as he gazed for the last time on Damascus.He smiled himself, as he glanced down at his weatherstained garments, and his arms, flashing in the sunshine.He wondered if the old man would know him, should hewalk into the house in that strange guise.The morning sun was high up on the plains of Damascus, but it was still dark night in America, and there wasa different scene there.As the evening closed in around him, the noble old manhad spoken of his absent boy, and asked, " When did hesay, in the last letter, that he might be home?""Perhaps next autumn. "" So long-so long!" he murmured, but not sadly, forhe was of cheerful mood that night, and lay down to restright happy, after praying for the wanderers.And in the calm night, when he could not sleep, butdid not dream of the presence of the messenger of God,while the companion of almost a halfcentury was talkingwith him, as in the nights of long-gone years, he ceasedto speak.No sigh, or sound, or tremor of the lip, announcedthe coming change.The angel was in the room, and when the momentcame, interrupted the scene, and bade him to the company on the other side of the vail, and he went forth tomeet the apostles and prophets,19*442 THE HILLS OF HEAVEN.Yea, the grand old man lay dead, and none knew it!and when at length the wife of half a century clasped himin her arms, and laid her cheek to his in the dim light ofthe night candle, and called him by old names of endearment, then their boy was wandering on the hills of Lebanon, singing a gay song to his horse, and as he climbed ahigher steep, his father was climbing the hills of heaven.29.Crossing Anti- Lebanon .THE change from the rich plain of Damascus to thebleak and barren hills of Anti-Lebanon, was sudden andpainful. At Dumar, one hour and a halffrom Damascus,we came to the bank of the Barada, which rushes hencedown a deep and terrible gorge, to the plain. We didnot cross the bridge here, but having sent on the tentsto await us at Suk el Barada (the market of the Barada), we diverged to the right, for the purpose of visiting the great fountain ofthe Barada at Feejee.We rode through a desolate country among the hillsfor three or four hours, pausing only to rest at luncheon,and seeing neither grass nor tree; though I saw someploughed land which might hereafter be green. At threeo'clock we turned to the left, and came down a ravine, tothe bank of the river again, at a little place called Messima (or Bessima?).The hill- sides here, as we descended toward the river,were filled with open tombs, one hill being an absolutehoney-comb. At Messima I found the remains of anancient aqueduct, carried down the bank ofthe Barada,through solid mountains, by long tunnels, the object ofwhich I can not imagine, unless I suppose it to be part ofan aqueduct to Palmyra. The work continued belowMessima by a rock-tunnel of great skill and labor, of the444 SPRING AT FEEJEE.extent of which I had not the time to obtain any idea,further than the view we had of it as we rode into thevalley. We saw it like a canal in the perpendicular sideof the rock, with occasional short tunnels, for some hundred feet, and then it entered the rocks, and must haveextended at least three hundred feet before it againemerged. Messima is one of the most beautiful spots onearth, a gem of green valley under lofty precipices.Our road now continued up the left bank of the river.The ravine was one of great scenery. The rocks on eachside were lofty, precipitous, and grand. Crags, a thousand feet high, overhung our way. The narrow valley, orbottom of the ravine, was filled with poplar-trees, whichare cultivated throughout this country as the only timberfor house-building. We saw them first at Beit Jin,planted in rows along the bed of the stream, and on little islands in it. Here the same plan was pursued, so thatthey grew tall and slender, and, being carefully trimmed,were kept straight and free from knots. There was onehill on the south side that seemed to have been thrownup by an earthquake. The strata were within ten degrees of being perpendicular, running up to the point ofthe mountain, which stood a thousand feet up in the skyin perfect grandeur. At four o'clock we were at Feejec,and here found what I presume the present state of geography will confirm me in saying is the finest fountain in theworld. I had thought so of Tell-el-Khady and of Banias,but this surpassed them both.There is a barren, rocky hill, five hundred feet high,which stands on the north side of the Barada valley.Under the base ofthis a strong river gushes out of an oldand ruined archway. It springs out like a living thing.It is strong, furious, noble in its first plunge; and it goesdown the ravine as if it had a great work to accomplishsomewhere and were hastening to it. It is very strange·SILVER SKULL- CAPS. 445that all the greatest springs in the world have no outlets,but run to naught-the Jordan to the Dead Sea, andthis to the lakes of Damascus. This spring has in ancienttimes been covered with a temple; and the remains ofseveral such buildings still stand around it. We dismounted on a narrow platform at the foot of the rockymountain, which was built to support a small four- sidedbuilding. The front of the platform was of large stonein five courses, supported on an arch of five large stones.This arch was about twelve feet wide and five or sixhigh. From this the river comes. Within the arch thespring had hollowed out a sort of cavern, where it roaredand boiled furiously before it came out.On the level at the side of the spring are the side- wallsof a building which had formerly an arched roof, nowgone. A niche for a statue remains in the rear wall, andtwo others in the sides of the front entrance.Over the fountain in the side of the rocky hill is acavern, reminding one of the same peculiarity at Banias,and suggesting the idea whether both may not be artificial, having been attempts to provide an outlet for thespring, at a higher level, which were abandoned almostas soon as commenced. Neither cavern appears to haveany ofthe ordinary characteristics of a natural grotto.The village of Feejee is a few rods below the spring.Young girls began to come down to the spring, eachhaving in her hand a curious silver bowl, with silverchains and coins attached, with which they dipped waterand gave us to drink. After a drink all around they applied them to their original purposes, being neither morenor less than coverings for their dirty heads!-a solidsilver skull-cap! -the form of bridal presents in AntiLebanon, which every bride expects on or before hermarriage!Miriam's inclination to throw back the water she had446 ABILA.been drinking out of the silver cup was overcome byhastily mounting her horse and starting at a gallop upthe valley, an example that we all followed.As this road is seldom traveled, I give the distanceshere for the benefit of future travelers. From Dumar toFeejee, without pause, in three hours. Weleft the fountain at half-past four. The stream of the Barada wasnow much more than half diminished.5 o'clock, Dayr- el- Kerrim.5.15, Kafr-e' -Zait, and opposite Dayr Anous or Anoun.5.35, Kafr Hassaneeyeh, on the opposite side.Here we saw before us the lofty cliffs of Abila, whichwe were approaching, and under which the tents were tobe pitched. Whitely and Moreright rode on ahead ofus, while Miriam and I loitered slowly along.Abila is a noble cliff, on the summit of which there is atable of good land, on which a few trees find root andfringe the edge of the lofty precipice. The Moslem tradition locates there the grave of Abel, who they thinkwas murdered by Cain at Zebdani. Adam carried thebody about with him until, taught by the example of araven, who dug a grave and buried a dead bird beforehim, he too buried his dead in the first grave of earth.The similarity of the name Abel to Abila will strikethe reader; and it is very possible that the traditionarose from the name of the hill, which it bore before thedays ofthe false prophet.But it might well be that Paradise was hereabouts.This, of all hills on earth, would be a fit one whereon tobuild an altar to God. The blue sky of the eveningrested on its very summit; the clouds swept calmly andlovingly by. At 5.50 we were at Kafr el Ow-e-meet,and, turning short to the left , we crossed the Barada bya low, ruined stone bridge, and entered the road fromDamascus to Beyrout. Continuing up the valley tenA MARONITE FAMILY. 447minutes, we were at Suk Wâdy Barada, where the tentswere to be; but we did not find them till 6.10, when wewere almost on top of them. They were pitched in aniche, cut in the rocky hill-side, for the floor of someancient building now wholly gone. The platform wassheltered on three sides by the smooth rock walls; amore beautiful spot for a camp could not be selected.Aparty ofMaronites-grandmother, father, and mother,and a host of children-had placed themselves under ourprotection for the night, and were curled up in the corners of the rock in a picturesque little group. I threwmyself on the ground, and watched the coming darknesssteal over the mountain tops, fall into and fill up thevalley.Betuni had not gotten over his morning's mishap, andwas abusing the horses generally, wherefore he got a kickfrom Mohammed that sent him in a heap into the Maronite group, whence he sprang to his feet and spit at Mohammed, the horse, with all the venom conceivable. Ishouted at the scene, and then Betuni stumped up infront of me, in all the glory of a new pair of moroccoboots, with enormous crimson tops, and began to addressme in the Betuni style; the more he talked, the more Ishouted with laughter. Miriam came out to see the fun;Whitely and Moreright stood behind him, and helpedprovoke him to more furious anger; and, in the midst ofall, Ferrajj came with his white eyes and teeth and robe,to announce dinner, to which we hastened.While we sat at the table, with coffee and pipes, Betuni's head appeared under the canvas."One cigarra, Mister Wittely; one cigarra, for Betuni. " And when Whitely had thrown a cigar at him, heattacked Moreright for a pair of socks, to wear under hisboots; and when he had got them he retired, and in fiveminutes we heard a row at the camp fire, and Betuni was448 TOMB OF ABEL.in fresh trouble. His mishaps only ended with the day;but what that row was I never knew, for I slept tremendously.I have described our camp ground. The nature of thebuilding which had formerly occupied it, I can not evenguess. But that it was in or near the ancient city ofAbila, there can be little doubt.In the morning I attempted to climb the hill, but gaveout a thousand feet above the camp. Moreright pushedon, and found the tomb of Abel; a mound, thirty feetlong, surrounded by the ruins of an ancient temple, andcovered with a Mohammedan structure of the nature of awely.The Moslems have gigantic ideas of the patriarchs.The grave of Eve, at Jedda, on the Red Sea, is about ahundred feet long. That of Joshua, on the Bosphorus, isof similar size. Noah's resting-place, on the east slope ofLebanon, at Maalakha, where we were a few days later, ismore than eighty feet long; and the traditions of the sizeofAdam represent him as so large that, in traversing theworld's surface, he left footprints on only such places asare now occupied by cities, while the intermediate countrywas untouched in his gigantic strides.From a seat on the hill-side I saw our mule caravangetting away, and one by one disappearing up theravine. When I came down the hill, Miriam sat on herhorse waiting for me, and Whitely stood near. Moreright was on the hill, and had not yet appeared; but atlength we heard his shout from the sky, and saw himwalking along the summit looking for a spot where hecould safely descend. By nine o'clock we were all in thesaddle. The hill-sides were full of tombs, the abandonedsleeping-places of the ancient men of Abila. A little wayup the ravine we examined some ofthem.Abilene is mentioned in Luke, iii. 1 , as the tetrarchyANCIENT HEWN ROAD. 449of Lysanias, and " Abila of Lysanias" is mentioned byJosephus. We have, however, no history of the city ofwhich the neighboring remains attest the splendor.As we advanced, the ravine became very narrow andpicturesque. We at length reached a lofty stone bridge.of one pointed arch, under which the Barada foamed anddashed down the rocks. We crossed, and now observedthe hills above us, perforated with the doors of tombs.The hills on the north side approached the stream here,and through the rocky bluff was cut a broad and fineroad, which would put to shame modern railway cuttings.Underneath it, lower down the hill, was the tunnel of anaqueduct, which passed through the bluff, and was carrieda long distance by a channel cut in the side of the perpendicular face of the rock. We traced it afterward forsome miles up to the point at which it had evidently received the water of the stream for the supply of Abila.I passed an hour here examining the road, and aqueduct, and the tombs, which are on the receding hill- sideabove them.The entire length of the cutting for the road was aboutfive hundred feet. It was fifteen feet six inches wide,the sides perpendicular and smooth, the floor a perfect.level. It crossed the spur of the mountain, and endedabruptly at a precipice, thirty feet high. The continuation must have been on a track supported by large stonecolumns, of which many were lying, broken to pieces, onthe hill below, as well as large stones that probablyformed part of the way.The inscriptions which are carved on the sides of thiscutting, and repeated on the hill- side at the other extremity of the tunnel of the aqueduct, have been repeatedlycopied and published, but it may be interesting to somereaders if I give my own copy of them here, which insome respects differs from any I have seen, probably be-450 INSCRIPTIONS .cause I copied the western inscriptions, while others havetaken the eastern. The difference is chiefly in the arrangement of lines, and in the addition of the letters IT,which are wanting in Dr. Robinson's copy, in the lastline of the smaller inscription.The smaller inscription was on a smooth tablet, withan arched top, directly under a niche, which had onceheld a statue. The other inscription was on a large oblong tablet, below the surface of the wall; the last linewas outside of the tablet, on the slope of the roughstone. By tablet, in both cases, I mean simply the natural rock smoothed and bordered with a bead or otherornamental edge.The following is the larger inscription:IMPCAESMAVRELANTONINVSAVGAR MENIACVSETIMPCAESLAVRELVERVSAVGARMENIACVSVIAMFLVMINISVIABRVPTAMINTERC SOMONTERESTITVERVNTPERIVLVERVMLEGPRPRPROVINCSYRETA MICVMS V V MINPENDIISABILENORVMAnd this is the smaller:PROSALVTEIMPAVGANTONINIETVERIMVOLVSIVSMAXIMVSILEGX VIFFQVIOPERIINSTITITVSTOMBS IN THE ROCKS . 451I walked through the aqueduct for three hundred feetor more, creeping where it was a tunnel. It was veryuniformly twenty- six inches wide and four feet high; butwhere it was not tunneled, it was often a narrow cutting,twenty feet deep.The tombs on the side of the hill, above this place, areof great interest. A flight of twenty steps, cut in therock, led up to the front of three, which opened onthe same platform. One of these had sixteen burialplaces, and these were remarkable as having the samestyle of arched places of deposit, as I observed in thetomb of Helena at Jerusalem, and in the curious tombwhich I have described at Aceldama. The places of deposit, however, were deep in the rock, and it was veryevident that each grave was covered with a large stone,tightly sealed, for the outer room had two small perforations, for light and air, opening out at the sides of thedoorway, indicating that it was used for occasional visitsby the living, who might sit within it.The same was remarkable of one of the tombs at Aceldama, where there were small square windows betweenthe first and second chambers.The most curious tombs here, however, were thosewhich abounded along the hill- side, where the excavationwas perpendicular, as if a single grave were to be dug inthe rock seven feet by two. Three feet below the surfacethis widened to four feet and a half or five, and twograves were then continued down, side by side, to adepth I could not ascertain because of the earth that partially filled them. These couples of graves were repeatedall along the hill-side, and in some places they were asthick as graves in an old church -yard. Many of the excavated tombs were large and roomy, with graves in thefloor and at the sides. The tombs reminded us very forcibly of those around Jerusalem.452 AN AQUEDUCT .Returning after an hour here, I found that Miriamhad gone on with Abd-el-Atti, leaving Betuni with thehorses, to wait for us. I much desired to explore adark ravine that came down through the hills below theprecipitous termination of the cut way, but had nottime.The aqueduct continued for more than a thousandfeet in the hill- side, as we rode on up the valley. A gallop of twenty minutes brought us to the head of theravine, a broad green plain, where the Barada made aplunge ofseventy feet, in a fine cascade. There were remains of two ruined bridges across it, above the fall, andhere we found the ruins of the dam which was the commencement of the aqueduct. Hence the Beyrout roadcontinued westerly, crossing the river a mile above thisfall, at a fine large mill, the best that I have seen in theEast. This is Tahoun el Takea. We turned to the right,leaving the mill and bridge on the left, our destinationbeing Baalbec, to reach which, we made a detour of somedays to the northward.While we paused to examine the ruined bridges anddam, Moreright had gone on, leaving Whitely and myselfalone.The horses were in fine condition, and we had now abetter road before us than we had seen for two days.Giving Mohammed the rein, I led, with a shout, andWhitely followed.The splendid animals strained every nerve, and wentoff in grand style. The Prophet himself would have beensatisfied with their appearance, and pronounced them ofthe best blood of the Khamsa. For ten minutes the brownkept close on my flank, but then, as the ground became alittle heavy, he dropped behind, and, a moment after, Iheard a cry from Whitely. Looking around, I saw thathis saddle-girth had given out, and the next moment heWOMEN OF ZEBDANI. 453was off. I spoke to Mohammed, and he brought up inthat cannon-ball-against-a-rock style, that the Arab horsesalone can imitate. The bay stopped as suddenly. Welost ten minutes by this accident, and had now a longgallop to overtake the party, whom we could see fourmiles ahead of us.As we approached Zebdani, the scenery became singularly home-like. There were fences, and, most strikingofall, old- fashioned, high-post gates, that looked as if theywould open and let me into that shady lane, down which Iused to loiter in the summer evenings of the long-goneyears, or into the grove where the robins sang, close tothe old house.The valley was luxuriant with fruit, olives and mulberries. On the side of the mountain, at our right, wasBludan, the summer residence of the Damascus missionaries, looking right pleasant in the valley. The tops ofall the hills at the left, as well as right, were covered withsnow, although the valley was warm and green. Weovertook Miriam among the trees and hedges of Zebdeen,or Zebdani, at the head ofthe valley.She was sitting under the mulberry-trees, in a field, atthe side of the road, and the entire female and juvenile.population of the town were around her. She happenedto be sewing a rent in her riding-dress, and the needle attracted the admiration ofthe women, who were all working on embroideries for the Damascus market.In a moment she had a dozen applications for thedesired treasures, and her pocket needle-case was soonemptied. There is no gift which travelers can take tothe oriental women more eagerly sought for and moregratefully received.There was one beautiful little girl among the crowd.Her black eyes haunted us afterward . When we rodeon, she followed by the side of Miriam's horse, shouting454 MACARONI.her delight at the long grave sentences of English whichshe addressed to her, and which seemed to go to herheart, though she did not understand them.The family, whom I have mentioned, as sleeping nearour tents, in the valley of the Barada, had amused usconsiderably, in the morning. They were Maronites,from the neighborhood of Baalbec, who had been downto Damascus, in search of work, and were returning without having found it. They were very poor, but veryworthy people. Abd-el-Atti, although a Mussulman, tookmuch interest in them, and, in the morning, dosed theentire family, from grandmother to baby, with arrakee, ofwhich he had a bottle presented him in Damascus, byMeluk, in the way of commission on our purchases. Thenhe packed the young ones on a baggage-mule, and sentthe entire lot of them off with the train.As we left Zebdani and mounted the hill north of thevillage, we found one of the children, a fine-looking girlof fourteen, resting by the side of the road, with herbrother, two years older, to guard her. Abd-el- Atti puther on his horse, and walked for an hour, and then shemanaged to keep up with us as we went slowly on toSulghiych, where we found the tent pitched among animmense display of macaroni, vermicelli, and various othereatables that lay around on table- cloths spread on theground. One of the mules had fallen into the Barada, andsoaked his load, which was in a doubtful condition in consequence. Abd- el- Atti boiled the stuff in a heap and madea grand mess, which he gave to the Maronite family, inconsequence whereof the old man, who lay just outsidemy tent, slept so soundly and so loud that I had to shoutto him a half dozen times before morning to take a littleresting spell and give me a chance for a few winks.What a glorious night that was in the tents, even as allthe nights were glorious. Our dinner-table was alwaysFERRAJJ. 455set in Whitely and Moreright's tent. Dinner occupiedan hour, and after dinner Ferrajj brought the chibouks,and Hajji Mohammed perfected such Mocha as mighthave intoxicated gods that were susceptible to ambrosialinfluences. The table stood across one side of the tent,and two beds across the other sides. We sat on campstools, or lounged on the beds for sofas. Books werepiled on the table after the dinner was cleared away. Itwas a favorite joke of Betuni-which he sometimes repeated when on his mule along the road-to come in withthe large copy of Robinson which we carried in the luncheon saddle-bags, open in his hands, reading aloud, “ Tomorrow we go seven hours Sulghiyeh-to-morrow we gosix hours Baalbec," certain that his monkey face would begreeted with abundant merriment.Ferrajj was omnipresent. " Ferrajj, more hot milk. ""Yez, zur. " "Ya-Ferrajj, haat el Ketub akmar. " "AiowahHowajji. " "Ferrajj, tell Betuni to see that that saddle.girth is strong." " Yez, zur. " " Ferrajj, hang my ridingskirt bythe kitchen fire. " " Yez, mum." " Ferrajj, somecoffee; fill my chibouk; bring me another mouth-pieceout of the red saddle-bags; and while you're there, findthe small Greek Testament that is somewhere in the largebag, and tell Selim to rub Mohammed's shoulders wellwith arrakee and warm water and-" " Come here, Ferrajj." "Yez, zur;" and the black head would come throughthe canvas, for we always shouted to him in the kitchentent, and some fresh orders would be given, and he wouldremember every separate direction, nor omit an iota ofit all.30.The City of the Sun.FROM Sulghiyeh to Baalbec the road was picturesqueand wild. Sometimes we went along precipitous hill- sides,looking down a thousand feet into the ravines, throughwhich loud brawling streams went swiftly toward theMediterranean, and at others we traced the course ofsuch streams with the hills far above us.We lunched in a deep, warm, sunny valley, cooling ourwine with snow that we had brought from the high ridgeof the mountain as we crossed it, such were the changesof climate from hour to hour. Our route lay through themountains of the Anti-Lebanon range, from which we atlength emerged on the great plain that lies between itand the true Lebanon, whose lofty and grand hills, snowcapped and magnificent, now towered in the western sky.As we came out on the plain, the grand ruins of Baalbecwere visible before us, and we rode on at a rapid pacetoward them.If all the ruins of ancient Rome that are in and aroundthe modern city were gathered together in one group,they would not equal the extent of the ruins of Baalbec.The remark may seem strange, or even extravagant,but I believe it to be literally true. And yet a mysteryhangs about these mighty relics which time will neverunfold. Who laid up these vast walls, who carved theseVIA DOLOROSA, NEAR OUR HIRED HOUSE.

IMMORTALITY. 457stately columns, who walked these halls and worshiped inthese temples? is almost as dark a question as who builtthe pyramids of Sakkara, or who slept in the sarcophagusof Cheops. Standing in the Temple ofthe Sun, and looking up to the sky through its shattered roof, I asked thequestion of the blue air that knows so many mysteries,and received the answer of the sky.Somewhere beyond or this side ofthe blue-somewhere,there are immortals that know it all, whose knees oncepressed these marble floors with the devotion of worshipers, whose voices once echoed in these arches inhymns of praise. Altars and worshipers are dust, andthe sun, day by day, looks down through the broken roofon the deserted and ruinous fane that they built to hisworship, and laughs with his soft summer laugh at thememory of their wind-scattered incense.And there to-day it seems not strange that men shouldworship the sun, who, with the same smile, looks down.on the ruined temple as he looked down on the templebuilders thousands of years ago.There is something in the heart of man that worshipsthe immutable, more than the invisible. The creatureof the day reaches out his arms and longs to embrace thatwhich was born a thousand years ago, and adores thatwhich will last a thousand years to come. But that whichchanges not, as the years change-that which stands upfirm above the shifting sands of the desert of life-thatwhich looks down from a clear sky beyond driving mists-he bows down before that, and of that he begs immortality. For, after all, the innate religion of the humanheart, of which so much is written and so much said, isthe desire for eternity of existence, which men in a stateofnature but guess at, and dimly understand. It was notso strange that the men of old times worshiped the sunand stars.20458 BAALBEC .I, too, half worshiped the sky that night as I sat inmy tent door, under the lofty columns of the Temple ofthe Sun.The modern village of Baalbec is situated on the northand east of the great temples, on the level of the plain,above which the latter are elevated. The platform ofthetemples, which I shall hereafter describe, is bounded onthe east bythe eastern colonnades of the great Temple ofthe Sun, which runs along the edge of it, and of whichinany of the columns and the carved ceiling are nowfallen and lying in fragments below, forming an immensemass of ruin. Outside of these our tents were pitched;I had intended to place them within the temple.As we approached the vast pile, and entered the oldSaracen wall which surrounded it, I paused in silentwonderment before the ruins. Wewent in silence aroundthe sustaining wall of the platform on which the ruinsstand, looking up at the massive temples that were piled.on it; on the north side I found a dark archway, andwe all rode into it . It was a long cavern in the platform, built of immense stone, arched overhead, and aswe rode into it two or three hundred feet, the bustsof men looked down on us from the dimly-lighted vaults,as if in wonder at this strange entrance of horsem*n totheir silent abodes.Returning, we continued around the temple, taking thewall of some fellah's garden at a flying leap on the northwest corner, and so coming down by the other side, wherewe saw and were astounded by the great stones whichhave been so frequently described. I had been longfamiliar with Egyptian grandeur, but I confessed at once.that Egypt knew nothing to compare with these. Returning at length to the place at which we had enteredthe village, I attempted to mount the fallen columns andmassive stones, which lay heaped up on the eastern side ofANCIENT HELIOPOLIS . 459the inclosure, and gain access to the temple platform itself. In this I succeeded . The horse Mohammed wouldgo into the second floor window of a New York house,if I rode him at it seriously. He leaped from stone tostone like a cat, and climbed up forty feet of debris thatI could with great difficulty have accomplished myself.I found a better path down, but not practicable for theloaded mules; and accordingly I directed the men topitch the tents under the eastern colonnade of the greattemple.Certainly I could not have desired a spot more picturesque. A stream of clear water ran close behind us,and when the moon rose, late at night, and shone on thegrand columns of the temple and its gray old walls, thescene was sufficiently grand.I shall not attempt to sketch the supposed history ofHeliopolis. That it was a city of early Phenician origin.I think may be taken for granted, from the name Baalbec,and that it was greatly beautified, in the days of the Roman emperors, may be inferred from the present magnificent ruins that are evidently of that period. Thus muchwe may safely aflirm , but more than this must be conjecture.If the reader will bear with me a little, I will endeavorto give him such a description of the ruins as will enablehim to form some idea of their magnitude, and conjecture,almost as well as those who have visited them, the nameand character of their founders.The site ofthese ruins was originally a plain, extendingmiles to the north and to the south. They are situated ahalf a mile from the eastern side of the valley.On this plain a platform has been elevated, by buildinga sustaining wall of immense stone, and arched galleriesor passages, as well as arched chambers, on which earthhas been heaped and leveled . The platform thus erected460 IMMENSE STONES.is of irregular shape, one part in the main being a largerectangular parcel, and another hexagonal, extendingnorth-eastward from the first, and yet another rectangular piece against this. The height of the upper level ofthe platform from the plain may be thirty feet, sufficientto command a view limited only by the distant mountainsofLebanon.On this platform were erected numerous splendid temples, courts, chapels, altars, and places of study and ofprayer. In the days of its glory it can hardly be doubtedthat it was, with one exception, the most magnificenttemple in the world. Not, indeed, so massive, grand,and imposing as Karnak, but in its airy beauty, the richness of its Corinthian columns, the splendor of its highcornices and friezes, and the light heaven-aspiring character of all its architecture, it must have been the mostbrilliant and beautiful of all the places of heathen worship.Commencing our view with the outside of the platformwall, at the south-west corner, we find the great stoneswhich form the most celebrated feature of Baalbec.Of these there are just twenty, and as I have seen hitherto no full and accurate account of these stones, althoughmany imperfect and inaccurate have been published, Ishall not apologize for stopping to describe them.Though they are but twenty very rough stones, theyare, nevertheless, among the most interesting relics of antiquity in the world.They arein two rows, one on the south side of the greatplatform , and the other on the west (west side and north,as they are sometimes called).Commencing with the row on the west side, and goingsouthward, I found ten stones, measuring in order as follows (the first one is comparatively small, and I have lostthe measurement): the next, 30 feet, then 31 , 30.6, 30.6,32, 30.6, 30, 32.4, 30.6.IMMENSE STONES. 461Each stone is thirteen feet high, and ten feet six inchesthick. The thickness varies an inch or two.This wall stands alone, and has never been carriedup. There is no structure on it, but the stones are grayand time-worn. A doorway has been cut through one ofthese stones, which admitted me to the space between itand the sustaining wall of the platform, which is built ofbeveled stone. This space is grass-grown and level, andfrom it I climbed to the top of the wall of large stones.They were smoothly cut, fitting exactly against eachother, but at the point of the junction of each two stones,they were notched on the front in a peculiar manner, andfor purposes which I shall hereafter mention. The notchwas about four feet long up and down the line ofjunction,about a foot wide and eight inches deep at the top, running to a point, and out to the edge of the stones at thebottom of the notch.This row of stones continues to the south- west cornerof the platform, which, by a rough wall, is projected so asto rest on the corner-stone and the next one to it, and onthese a high sustaining wall is built. The height on thiscorner of the whole platform must be about forty feet.The corner-stone in continuation of this wall, is of thesame class as the others, but not so large. It is aboutthirteen feet each way. But after turning the corner, wefind that this stone projects about two feet beyond theline of the wall above it, and is beveled or worked off tothe face of that wall. Then follow six stones, preciselysimilar to those we have described, whose entire length is189 feet. But these also project, as does the cornerstone, and are worked off from about four feet below theirupper sides to the line of the wall above it, instead ofhaving a perpendicular face with the peculiar notches Ihave described in the others.But the wall above these last six stones is the wonder462 IMMENSE STONES .of Baalbec and the world. It consists of three stones,exactly covering the six below them. Their length istherefore one hundred and eighty-nine feet, and I measured them three times without being able to detect a difference in them, though there may be an inch or two asdescribed by others. The height of these stones, on theface, is thirteen feet, just that of the stones on which theyrest, and the depth must be guessed at. In the plans ofCasas, which I have before me, it is given at sixteen feetfour inches ( French of course), and it may be fairly estimated at fifteen feet.It is true that on these stones the wall of the platformis continued up. But that wall has manifestly nothing todo with the original design of the layers of this cyclopeanstructure. There is nothing else in or around Baalbecwhich bears any relation or resemblance to these stones,or indicates the existence of the same grandeur of designand power of execution.I say there is nothing like it in or around Baalbec. Iam wrong. In the quarry, a half mile from here, lies astone sixty-eight feet some inches long, seventeen wide,and fourteen feet six inches in thickness. The end of thishas not been trimmed off. This done, would reduce itprobably to the average length of the three now in position.There can be no doubt, it seems to me, that this stonewas to be placed in position on the wall at the westernside, in continuation of the three on the south, connectedwith them by a corner- stone. The notches I have spokenof, were the commencement of the working down of theupper part of these stones, which were left solid until thelarge stones were in position on them, when they wereto be sloped up to them, as I have described those underthe three great stones.But I apprehend no one can see any indication that theTHE STRUCTURES . 463other works of Baalbec are of the same age, or by thesame persons with these gigantic rocks. The contrastbetween them and the Roman wall above, is greater thanbetween the Roman and the later Saracen walls laid uponthem when Baalbec was made a fortress.Who, then, built these two walls? Who cut thesetwenty stones-sole memorials of a work that was magnificent in its design beyond any other work on the face.of the earth, but abandoned in its very commencement?I have no doubt that they are of an age long precedingthe Roman Empire, an age of giant thoughts, such asplanned the Pyramids, or the mighty columns and architecture of Karnak. The Romans found them here, theevidence of an unknown race and a forgotten power, andon them built their gorgeous temples. Storms beat onthe airy structures of the Romans, and they stood firmand bright in the succeeding sunshine. But earthquakescame and shook them down, and the works of the giantslaughed at the earthquakes, and stood firm while shattered capitals and architraves were rained down on andaround them.In building their platform, the Romans, or whoevercontinued the works at Baalbec, used the south wall, butpreferred not to use the western, leaving it exposed, and,apparently, useless, running their wall about twenty feet.inside of it. This wall is of beveled stone, and may beof more ancient date than the Roman temples. Of thisit is impossible, at present, to affirm anything. I confessthat my subsequent examination of the galleries andchambers under the platform, led me to think that theimmediate predecessors of the Romans were men of intermediate power, more like the hewers of the twentystones, but not nearly so great in their ideas.On the highest part of the platform, in the south- westcorner of it, stood a grand temple, of which only six464 RUINS OF BAALBEC .columns, supporting part of the architecture, now remain.These columns are each seven feet six inches in diameter,at the base, and are alone left of seventy that formed theperistyle of a temple of the most elegant Corinthianstyle. They are visible throughout the extent of theplain of Baalbec, over which the temple must have shonewith great brilliancy. The floor of this temple appears tohave been terraced up toward the south side, as it ascends in that direction, and the pavement remains. Itis a remarkable fact that, under the temple, the platformhas, so far as now known, no chambers or galleries. Anexcavation would, doubtless, open interesting rooms. Itried various methods of obtaining access, but all in vain,though I am satisfied that such exist, and, doubtless, judging from such as I found elsewhere, of great splendor.In front of this temple was a large quadrangular court,surrounded by exquisite little semicircular temples, allgorgeously carved in florid Corinthian, and each havingfive dead windows or recesses for statues, and small semicircular seats or niches under them. The latter arestrangely and beautifully carved; one has an eagle amongstars forming the top, another a winged globe, many hadscallop-shells, beautifully cut.This quadrangle was filled with various buildings, ofwhich the ruins lie in it. It opens into a hexagonal courtalso surrounded with niches for statues, and this into agrand portico, flanked by two square towers, of whichthe ancient form is totally lost by the Saracen changes.I presume that the grand steps to the temple led upfrom the plain here, but they are now gone, nor is thereany trace ofthem.Returning to the great temple, and descending to a lowerlevel of the platform, on the east, we came to the greatTemple of the Sun, the walls of which are still standing.It had a peristyle of thirty-six columns, plain shaftsTEMPLE OF THE SUN . 465with elegant Corinthian capitals, and four inner columns.fluted, making forty in all. These are mostly fallen andbroken to pieces, but on the north-west side nine remainstanding, and support the ceiling of the peristyle. Thisceiling is composed of immense stones, claborately carvedin compartments, with fruits, flowers, and busts of godsand goddesses. Entering the temple by a hole in theSaracen wall that closes it, we find a grand doorwaywhich was square, the top being trilithic, two stones resting on the pilasters or side posts, the middle one keyedin between these. This middle stone has been shakenfrom its position, and the outer two, opening a little,have let it slip down, but it is caught by the width of itsupper part, and thus hangs, threatening destruction towhoever passes under it. On the under side of thisstone is carved an eagle, whose wings, or the tips ofthem, are left on the other stones. The tips touch twocupids, one of which scaled off when the eagle fell . Theother was battered by the early Christians, whose Vandalish propensities are so noticeable in Egyptian temples.The eagle's bill holds a wreath and bundle of flowers.Within, the temple is battered and bruised, and defacedwith the names of hundreds of modern travelers. Stillit is gorgeous, and was glorious. The carving of the oakleaves and acorns, of the delicate bead- work, and of theintricate and innumerable patterns and ornaments, surpasses all the work in stone that I have seen elsewhere.Wreaths, festoons, and garlands are wrought all over thewalls with the utmost skill and taste.On the east side of this temple there are yet standingfour of the columns which support a very perfect specimen of the frieze, but no description can convey an ideaof the elaborate nature of it. Bulls' and lions' headsalternate with oak leaves and grapes, and various otherpatterns,20*466 UNDER THE PLATFORM .The top of this architrave is disfigured by a rude.stone wall, piled on it by the Saracens, the object ofwhich I am at a loss to guess at.There are many other ruins of buildings on the greatplatform and connected with it, but I pass from them tothe vaults below. I postponed an examination of theseuntil the third day of our visit, having devoted a part ofthe previous day to finding an entrance under the greattemple, which I have already stated was without result.There are three great galleries under the platform.Two running from north to south, and one connectingthese two. Besides these, there are a large number ofchambers, all built in the same massive style. The lowerrows of stone are very large-much larger than any thingseen in the Roman structures above ground. The archesare, in many cases, evidently built on a plan quite different from that which was adopted in laying these stones.The only room of special beauty to which I obtainedaccess appeared never to have been visited before by anytraveler. Walking up the eastern gallery I observed asort of window, into which I mounted by Whitely'sshoulders. It was all dark. I lighted a piece of paperwith a match and threw it in. It fell ten feet, andshowed me a hard floor for an instant, on which Ijumped, without stopping to calculate how I should get back again.I lit a candle, and found on the ground a considerablequantity of straws, blown in through the hole at which Ihad entered. Gathering these together, I called Whitelyand Moreright to come in. They came as I had, helpingeach other. Then I touched my candle to the pile, andit flashed up brilliantly, long enough to show us a loftysquare chamber with arched ceiling elaborately carved,in the style of the ceiling of the peristyle of the Templeof the Sun. There were places for statues on the sideINSCRIPTIONS. 467walls, and a doorway that once opened out to the outerground, but now closed with large stone, probably inSaracen times. Thus much I saw, and the fire vanished.We helped each other out, and walked up and downthese vast subterranean halls for nearly two hours beforewe were called away.The eastern gallery opened up at its extremity, directly into the platform near the smaller temple, andappears to have been used for processions. Frequentbusts appear in the key-stones of the arch, but all ofthem are so much defaced as to be unrecognizable.I have not pretended to give a full account of theRoman ruins in Baalbec. Enough is accomplished if Ihave given the reader a general idea of their grandeurand extent.Inscriptions have been diligently looked for at Baalbec, and two were found on the pedestals of columns inthe front of the smaller temple. I could not find them,and presume they are now lost. They are said to havebeen as follows:1. MAGNIS DIIS HELIUPOLITANIS PRO SALUTE ANTONINI PII FELICIS AUGUSTI ET JULIÆ AUGUSTÆ MATRIS DOMINI NOSTRI CASTRORUM SENATUS PATRIÆ

• COLUMNARUM DUM ERANT IN MURO IN LUMINATA SUA PECUNIA EX VOTO LIBENTI ANIMO SOLVIT.

2. MAGNIS DIIS HELIUPOLITANIS * * * ORIIS DOMINI NOSTRI ANTONINI PII FELICIS AUGUSTI ET JULIEAUGUSTE MATRIS DOMINI NOSTRI CASTRORUM * * *NTONIANÆ CAPITA COLUMNARUM DUM ERANT IN MUROINLUMINATA SUA PECUNIA *I give these as Dr. Robinson copies them from Woodand Dawkins.I, however, found the remains of two Greck inscriptions in one of the small chapels or oratories on the westside of the great quadrangle, which I think have escaped468 INSCRIPTIONS.observation. They were on projecting sills or slabs,which did not mark the statues, but rather appearedto mark the seats of priests or teachers, but so littleremains of them, that much must be left to conjecture indetermining their meaning.I give them with the letters in position as I foundthem, marking the ends of the line as the ends of thestone. There was but one line possible on each stone.འ.| 0 ПОЕІ NEWI |2. T OT OL ΑΝΔΑ IAnd these are all the records, in characters known tomen, that are left on earth of the might and majesty ofBaalbec.31.The Roses of Lebanon.THE afternoon and evening of our arrival at Baalbecwere devoted to strolling around among the ruins, catching here and there views of peculiar beauty, resting onfallen columns or broken capitals, and losing ourselves inthe wilderness of ruins. In the starlight the four columns above our tents towered in the dark air with awfulgrandeur; and later, when the moon was up, the scenewas only equaled by moonlight on old Thebes.The next afternoon Miriam held a levee in her tent.The inhabitants of Baalbec are chiefly Christian and Metaw-Ali (followers of the false prophet Ali, Mohammedanheretics). Two or three of the little girls who wandereddown to the tents from the village reported the kindreception they met with from the Frank lady, and a halfdozen neatly-dressed girls of thirteen and fourteen camodown to see her. These were followed by six girls of rarebeauty. You might search a long while and not findin any land six such beautiful daughters of Eve in onesmall village. They were all alike in their tall, litheforms, the soul of grace, with that soft languor which isesteemed perfection of beauty in the East. Their faces.were of different moulds. One, Warda (Rose) by name,was of exceedingly proud and queenly countenance. Hereye was black and fine, her complexion white and clear,470 ROSE AND SUZAIN.her features straight and regular, her eyebrows archedand black; lips, rich and red as the flower whose nameshe bore; teeth like pearls, and a chin that made a susceptible man like Whitley positively crazy when he remembered it. The namesake of Miriam was a soft andlanguid beauty, with an eye that said little, but looked asif it might be roused to anger at a word. Suzain waslike Warda, but had red cheeks and laughing eyes, andan arm that was rounded in the forin of Cleopatra's. Alilawas a pale girl, of marble beauty, that expressed no interest in the strangers other than cold curiosity; but thefifth was a laughing, rattling coquette, full of the devil,and willing to evince it constantly.One of the younger party who had preceded themhaving gone home, told her mother of Miriam's reception of her the latter returned with her daughter on anodd errand, and found the group of beauties on the carpets in the middle ofthe tent, laughing gayly and chattingwith their hostess as if they had known her all theirlives; for she had picked up enough of Arabic to sustainsuch a conversation.The mother had heard of the glory of the Franks, andwished to see if there was a chance of getting a Frankhusband for her girl, a black-eyed, laughing child of fifteen.Here was a chance for Whitely and Moreright, andMiriam sent for them instantly. We were all upamong the ruins when Ferrajj came with her message,and went down to the tents, much wondering what wewere sent for, but nothing disappointed when we sawthegroup of beautiful girls on the floor of the tent, whoseeyes flashed laughingly on us as we entered. Miriamstated the lady's proposal, but Whitely not only intimatedby his looks, but distinctly affirmed, that such a proposition from Warda would receive much more serious consideration.MARRYING FOR LOVE. 471I have never seen more graceful or refined youngladies than these five appeared to be. It is true they saton the carpets, but that was their custom; and they woretrowsers, but that was not because they were strongminded women. They talked unblushingly with strangers about marrying them, because that is the sole end ofa young woman's life in the East.Alila was engaged to be married, and took no interestin the conversation. The others joined in it, and talkedas pleasantly, gayly, and gracefully as refined, educatedladies would be expected at home to converse on indifferent subjects. This was the more remarkable as they werenot children of the wealthiest classes, although theirparents were persons of character and comfortable property.Warda looked up at Whitely with her large, blackeyes fixed full on his face, and he actually blushed at being so fixedly stared at by so beautiful a woman of nineteen, and marriageable at that."I don't think he can be serious, " she said at length,very quietly."Why not, Lady Rose?" (Sitt Warda) , I asked." Because I have heard that the Franks marry forlove; and he has not known me long enough to loveme.""Do you never marry for love?”" How can we? We marry when our parents get ushusbands. We have nothing to do with it ourselves.Alila don't know what sort of a man her husband is. Helives at Maalakha. She never saw him. "" Are you happy, Lady Alila?""I-yes. Why not?"I give the reply of Warda in, as near as I can recollect,her very words. It is a singular instance of an expressionon the part of an eastern lady, of some discontent at472 SALAH- E'DEEN .the custom of her fathers in the manner of disposing ofher hand."I wish I had a name like Miriam or Warda, thatcould be turned into English, " said the rosy-cheeked coquette, with a naïveté that was very amusing. She didnot like the admiration that the queenly Rose was attracting. But, like it or not, it was a necessity."Do you think, if I should stay here long enough toknow you, that you would love me?"She looked up into Whitely's eyes again and said,quietly and calmly, " I wish you would try it."Ah, maiden-white rose of the valley of Lebanon-itis sorrowful to think of your melancholy life, your withering heart. Could one but bring you to a land of warmhearts, a land where the majesty and glory of woman'sbeauty and purity is triumphant, you would make a queenamong women, and would learn the value of your owngentle soul. But all that beauty, and gentleness, and innate pride is to be the toy of a passing hour, and thenfollows the drudgery of woman's miserable life, to be abearer of children and carrier of water-for long, coldyears and then death and oblivion. I shudder when Ithink of the fate of those six brilliant girls.Toward evening we walked up to the Mosk of Salahe'deen, in the village north of the temples. Before reaching it we passed a ruined circular temple, of elaborateCorinthian architecture, which stood together on so feeble a tenure, that I have little doubt that the recentearthquake in the Levant will have overthrown it.In the Mosk of Salah- e'deen is a grave, in the ordinaryTurkish style, standing among a forest of columns thatsupport the walls of this place of prayer, where traditionand a tablet say that the mighty foe and friend of Richardof the Lion Heart lies sleeping that deep sleep that fallson all alike, I know of nothing to falsify the tradition,MORALIZING . 473Here rests a great man. The age has come in whichjustice can be done to his memory. I could not standamong those columns by that simple, unadorned tomb,and fail to hear the noise of the battle around the gatesof Jaffa, or the last wail on the plain of Hattin when theHoly Cross went down.The mosk itself is a most barbarian structure, built ofthe columns of ancient Baalbec, without reference to size,shape, or uniformity of capitals. Two fine porphyrycolumns lie on the ground, broken to pieces, and I haveseen in St. Sophia, at Constantinople, other very fine porphyry columns, said to be from Baalbec. The mosk isabout 120 feet by 200, half an open court, and the otherhalf arched cloisters, built on three columns. The tombof Salah- e'deen is near the north-east corner of the cloisters. An oil lamp was burning near it, kept there bysome Moslem devotee.We strolled about the town and among the ruins untilthe sun went down over the hills of Lebanon, leaving acrimson glow on the eastern summit, and giving a newand more beautiful light than we had yet seen to theruins around us. Here, were one disposed to moralize,was the place for it. Here were temples, of which noman could name with certainty even the god to whomthey were dedicated; here were shrines, that were visited by myriads of men and women, old and youngborn even as we, dead even as we must die-who lived,and moved, and talked, and thought, and ate, and drank,and slept, and perished, even as we must do, and theirnames are erased from the rolls of time.But I confess that I did not so much moralize as I didspeculate, and this was the result of my speculations.That the twenty great stones seem to have been hewnand placed where they were by some one who had heardof, or seen the grandeur of Egypt, and desired to surpass• 474 WARDA, THE ROSE.it. Such a person might have been Solomon, the son ofDavid, and son-in-law of a Pharaoh of Egypt.That the next builders had seen the glory of Solomon'stemple, had admired its lofty situation on the hill of Moriah, and had knowledge of its subterranean supports. Inpursuance of ideas thus derived, they commenced, andperhaps completed the erection of a platform, with suchcrypts and galleries as we have described, and perhapsbuilt on it some form of temple.That in later times the Romans extended this platform and the galleries under it, built great chambersbelow and greater temples above; and last of all, Timeand earthquakes shook them thundering down.And all this is mere conjecture-guess-work-nothingmore.I wandered up and down the ruins, pondering on thesethings till my brain was weary. Then I said, " Let thedead bury their dead," and returned to the tents, whereI found Miriam in close conversation with the beautifulWarda and the gay Suzain, and I welcomed the brightfaces ofthe three, as pleasant contrasts to the gloomy oldforms that had haunted me for hours before.So ended the second day at Baalbec.32.The Storm.Ar first we decided that we would go, and then thatwe would not, and so we passed the early morning hoursamong the ruins. The weather was threatening, but stillit did not rain, and, at last, we broke up the camp, sentthe tents and baggage on to Zahleh, and rode down tothe quarries, where we examined the remaining largestones. There is one very large one, and several others,of the inferior or second size which I have described, liearound it.Then we rode on, down the plain, toward a structurewhich, at a distance, had presented the appearance of asmall ruined temple. It proved to be a Mohammedantumular structure, consisting of eight granite columns,taken from old temples, some of them placed upside down,supporting a circular architrave.We examined it, without dismounting, and then rodeon. But the storm now burst on us with fury. At thevery first dash of the sharp rain-drops the horses wheeledtheir backs to it , and we bowed our heads while it sweptover us. It was a pitiless rain- storm-cold as a Labradorbreeze, and perfectly blinding, when we attempted toface it."Interesting view of Baalbec-hey, Whitely?"In spite of the seriousness of the thing we shoutedwith laughter, at the appearance we presented, four in a476 HOSPITABLE TIVES .row, back to the wind, and faces to Baalbec, motionless,as if taking a last look of the ruins.But it was no laughing matter. The tents had goneon long ago, and it remained only to see if we could overtake them, before the ground became too hopelesslysoaked to allow of our pitching on the plain. As soon asthere was a lull in the first blast, we faced it and pushedon.The recollection of that day is like the memory of abad dream. I can not, at this distance, realize that itsoccurrences did actually take place, and that we, and especially Miriam, survived it. The rain increased inviolence and was mingled with sleet, which cut our faceswherever they were exposed. Our water-proof clothingwas good protection for a few hours, but, at length,streams trickled down our faces and into our necks, andwe became thoroughly and irretrievably soaked andThen we grew sullen and silent, and, at last,seeing a group of low mud huts on the plain, we shoutedall at once, and made a stampede for them.We threw ourselves off at the first door, and rushedinto the dark hut. A palace would not have been morewelcome, nor could a palace have given us a warmer reception. They helped us off with our clothes, theykindled a blazing fire on the little fire-place, in the verymiddle of the floor, they made hot coffee and gave itto us, rich and reviving, and when we were warm, anddry, and grateful, they didn't ask for bucksheesh, and refused it when offered , so that Whitely had to give a dollarto the baby for a charm, and, just then, a streak of sunshine tempted us out on that accursed plain.The streams that flow into the Leontes were swollenand strong. The first was difficult, the second was worse,and at the third, and no less than five after that, we surrounded Miriam's horse, for she was the weak one of theA TERRIBLE DAY. 477party, and pressed steadily and slowly across, against theswift and increasing current.Again we were wet, and now no shelter presenteditself. On, on, on, the rain growing fiercer, and the aircolder. I began to think of falling from myhorse myself,and but for the presence of that child and her brave bearing, I should have selected the lee of a bank and sat downin despair. At length the chestnut horse grew restive.It was the first instance since she had ridden him in whichhe had behaved illy with her. I afterward found that itwas owing to the manner in which Selim had put on thesaddle. I rode up at her right side and as I did so, thehorse deliberately lay down in the mud, and threw hersix feet off on the wet, soft ground.It was the climax of woe. The storm was fierce andfurious. No sign of human life was visible. We were inthe centre ofa vast plain, night was approaching, and thestorm increasing rather than diminishing.I now sent Abd-el-Atti on to overtake, if possible, thebaggage train, and stop it at the first habitable village,which I understood was Maalakha. He left us, and werode slowly on, the worn-out animals with difficulty lifting their feet out ofthe heavy mire.At last we saw a village ahead of us, and, picking upcourage, the horses sprang forward. Descending a slightincline, dashing into a stream that ran strong up to oursaddle-girths, we crossed it side by side, and rode up alittle eminence, confident of finding our men and our rest.The disappointment was bitter when we found that thiswas Ablah, and our people were not here, but Miriambore it best of all of us, and refused to dismount. Therain poured in torrents, and snow and sleet cut our facesfuriously, as we entered Maalakha, an hour and a halffurther on, just as thick darkness was falling on the mountains.478 SHELTER AT LAST.Abd-el-Atti had secured for us a house, belonging to aGreek Christian, one Nama el Hadad, and a boy met usat the entrance of the village to guide us thither.Cold, shivering, well-nigh dead, I stumbled and nearlyfell, as I dismounted, but gathering enough strength totake Miriam in my arms, I carried her into the hut andlaid her on the floor.The house was similar to the one at Beit Jin, but inplace of the broad fire- place in the corner, there was onlya pan of coals in the middle of the room. The fumes ofthe charcoal, the smoke from half-burned wood, the dimlight of a lamp, consisting of a cup of oil with a raghanging over the side of it, made the place as gloomyand disagreeable as could well be imagined. Not eventhe idea of a shelter from that pitiless storm of Lebanonwas sufficient to revive our drooping spirits; and whenthe baggage came to be opened, and we found everything saturated with dissolved leather-shirts that lookedlike buckskin, collars that might have been mummycloths, and the various articles of a lady's toilet thatmight have served the purposes of seven generations ofArabs without seeing soap, for all resemblance they hadto a Christian lady's dresses-the depth of our despairwas attained. It was not till then that we recovered ourvoices or our spirits; but the appearance of Whitely, ashe stood looking at a pair of slippers which he held in hishand, and which were filled with the solution of a felthat and a box of tooth-powder, three cakes of Piver'smost delicious Imperatrice, and a box of Malta cigars,changed our desperation to furious fun, and we made thevillage ring with shouts of laughter that frightened theinhabitants out into the driving rain to see what theFranks were doing in the house of Nama the Greek.Fortunately, there was one water-proof bag that contained enough of Miriam's baggage to enable her to getGREEK CHRISTIANS . 479warm and dry. Rigging a curtain across the room, wehad the beds and bedsteads brought in, found them ina dry condition to our great surprise, and arranged ourroom with some show of comfort. Dinner helped not alittle. Hajji Mohammed outdid himself on such occasions, and proved himself an Alexander of cooks.The family, into whose house we had now come, wereGreek Christians. We saw only the mother and twosons-one a boy of thirteen, the other a young man oftwenty-two. From the moment of entering the house, Iwas satisfied that we were no longer among honest Moslems.I had now traveled seven months among Mussulmanpeople of every name and shade. I had carried largesums of money, some of the time in open baskets (for inthis way I had carried copper coin into Nubia) , valuableclothing, arms, and ammunition-had left my boat or mytents often without other guard than my Arab servants,who had free access to every thing; I had absolutely ignored locks and keys, and traveled with open bags, andhad never lost a farthing by the dishonesty of a followerof Mohammed. It would not have been difficult at anytime while I was in Syria to rob me of a hundred poundsin gold, or of any quantity of valuables. But I wouldtrust a Mussulman with my purse and my life in preference to any other man on earth. Sad as it is for a Christian to be driven to such a conviction, I am compelled toadmit it.An Arab, finding you traveling through his country asa stranger, without having applied to his tribe for permission and protection, regards you as an enemy, open toplunder. Such is the law of his fathers, even to Ishmael.But once having placed yourself under his protection, orconfided in his honor, you are safer than in your ownhouse in New York. For there burglars may enter, but480 A DOUBTFUL FAMILY.the thin covering of the black tent, with its law of hospitality, is a perfect guard against loss, rendering safesand safety-locks useless.But I was now for the first time in a Christian house,and I had not been here ten minutes before I began tosuspect my hosts.After dinner, as we sat talking by the table, the boyasked me to lend him a knife to mend a pencil. I hadnone that was sharp enough, but Whitely took out of hispocket a very elegant and expensive traveling-knife, forwhich he had paid two pounds in England, and handed itto the boy, who thereupon disappeared.An hour afterward he remembered the knife, and askedfor it, but the boy was gone. His mother, however, camein from the other room of the house, in which our servants were stowed with the family, and said that the boyunderstood the knife to be a gift. This we told her wasa mistake. The older brother, Mousa, by name, came inwith her, and added his assurances, but there was a badlook out of Mousa's eyes that I did not at all like, and Itold them very quietly that the knife must be broughtback. They said the boy had gone to a house in anotherpart of the town, but they would send for him, and hewould be back in half an hour. It was approaching bedtime, an hour later, when we observed that the boy hadnot made his appearance. I shouted for the woman.and Mousa entered. She again pleaded the boy's mistake, and begged that he might be allowed to keep it ,saying that he would grieve very much, and his tenderfeelings would be hurt.SheIt was, then, manifest that there was no intention ofreturning it, and, accordingly, I took out my watch andlaid it on the table before me, where already our entirestock of arms lay piled, and gave them three minutes inwhich to produce the knife. The change from quiet ques-FLEAS IN FORCE. 481tioning to stern demand took Mousa by surprise. Hestepped forward, fixed his eyes on mine with a fierce expression, and perceiving no change of my features, hedrew the knife out of his bosom and laid it down before me, and went out. At the same moment, the boyhimself, who had watched proceedings through a hole inthe wall, came in blubbering terribly. Whitely, whothought it possible that our imperfect knowledge ofArabic had led to the mistake, threw him a dollar as aquietus to his grief, and sent him away. We then prepared to sleep.Of the horrors of that night, the " infandum dolorem,"I am unable to describe the sum, or the half. If the kingof the fleas resides at Tiberias, the largest city in his empire is at Maalakha.An hour after midnight I got up. I had not yet closedmy eyes. My movements attracted Miriam's attentionbehind her curtain, and she spoke. Whitely and Moreright groaned aloud. No one of us had thus far winked.one second of sleep. I had filled my bed with an Egyptian preparation, which had hitherto been efficacious, butwhat was poison to such a host? I counted forty- eight ofthe dead on my sheet, and the next morning there werefifty-three more, making a hundred and one that I diminished the population of Maalakha that night, but sleep wasout of the question, and we passed the night in mutualcondolence and groanings.Next morning the storm had changed to snow, and theprospect was worse than ever. At daylight I sallied outand made a search for a better house. I found onedirectly in the rear of our present quarters, not fifty feetfromthem. It was a clean, neat mud house, white- washed,and inviting in appearance. The wrath of our first hostswas dire when we moved, but it was accomplished rapidly,and we felt as if in a small palace when we surveyed our21482 TOMB OF NOAH.new arrangements. It was true that we missed sundryarticles, a coat of Miriam's, and two silver spoons fromthe canteen, a knife and two forks, a handkerchief and atable-napkin, the whistle of my whip handle, Moreright'sentire whip, and various other little things, which wecharged to profit and loss. Only one napkin Miriam hadseen Madame Nama tucking behind a cushion, and sentFerrajj to find and bring it out, which he did.Moreright went off to Kerak, a little village throughwhich we had passed on our way a half hour beforereaching Maalakha, and there found the supposed tombof Noah, a hundred feet long, in a Moslem inclosure. Hethen went further among the mountains with a guide,and discovered a temple and some strange excavations inthe rocks, chambers on chambers, to the number of fortyor fifty, and a man in armor on his horse, led by anotherman, cut in colossal relief on the rock up on the mountainside, all which I much regretted that I had not accompanied him to see. I passed the forenoon within doors, andwhen the storm held up a little I climbed to the top ofthehill, for the village is on a steep hill-side, and the flatroofs of the houses are like terraces. Hence I lookeddown at the valley between Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon,and traced the course of the direct route from Damascusto Beyrout, which we had left on the other side of thisplain and behind the opposite hills.Jebel- Es- Sheik, Mount Hermon, stood white and glorious. It was a delight to look on the summit and remember with what calm beauty it looked down on the sea ofGalilee; for it seemed as if even there I could get someof the reflected lights of that divine spot.Zahleh, the principal town of this part of the Lebanondistrict, is almost a part of Maalakha, for it lies adjoiningit, in a semicircle, like a theatre, at the head of a valley,of which Maalakha commands the outlet. The houses ex-LEBANON HILLS. 483tend almost to one another. The stream in this smallervalley was fierce and strong, winding no less than thirteentimes within the half mile between Zahleh and the footof the hill where I sat, and then flowing out to the greatplain that was now one vast sheet of water. The readerneed not be told that this is drained by the Leontes.The population of Zahleh is said to be ten thousand;that of Maalakha, fifteen hundred; but this is not counting the fleas.33 .Christian Robbers.THE sun rose bright and clear on the third morning,and we gathered our forces early for a start. The muleswere loaded and despatched. Our horses were waiting.The villagers crowded around, and I looked to my arms,as usual, before mounting. My fowling-piece I fearedhad been wet with the rain of the last day's travel, and Idrew the charge, and called Ferrajj to bring me the flaskof powder and shot, which were usually in the luncheonbag. But they were not there, and no one knew wherethey were. I sent Abd-el-Atti, with a search- warrant,into Nama's house, and after diligent examination, he discovered them, stowed away behind a water-jar and someother furniture, and after blowing up the family generally,brought them to me.The powder-flask was nearly empty, and the shot haddisappeared. This was past endurance. I could havegone quietly if they had stolen my purse, but powderwas worth ten times its weight in gold, for my purposes,and I walked out into the crowd around the doorway,determined to settle accounts with the house of Nama.Mousa was standing on the low roof of his father'shouse, looking furiously at the scene; for Abd-el-Atti'slast words had not been confidential, and the entire crowdknew the terms on which we were parting with them.ROBBED AND INSULTED. 485"Where is my gunpowder, you infernal scoundrel?” Idemanded, shaking the empty flask toward him."How do I know? Do you mean to say I am athief?" And he jumped down into the crowd and approached."I mean just that. You, and your father, and yourmother, and your family, for untold generations, arethieves, and have been thieves, and will be thieves, tothe remotest posterity."There is nothing lost by a wholesale family denunciation in the East. He sullenly protested his innocence,but made no violent demonstrations. I saw, however,that the majority of those around, being Greek Christians, were his friends and supporters."Where is the governor of E'Maalakha?" I demanded."Gone to Beyrout," answered a dozen voices."Where is the sheik ofthe village?""Here he is. " They brought up a well-dressed manofforty, and I suspected the trick on the instant."Will you curse the cross of Christ?"I paused a moment. "No? then you're a Christian,and no sheik ofthis village."By this time, all were in the saddle but myself, andhad gone on. I was alone in the crowd, and finding thatit was hopeless to attempt any reparation of damages insuch an assembly, I sprang into the saddle, shouted athreat of vengeance at Beyrout, and rode down the hillat a gallop, while a cry of derision announced the triumph.of the villagers.My party were riding out of the village on the plain,and I was overtaking them rapidly, when I caught sightofthe doorway ofa better-looking house than the others,before which stood two soldiers. Reining up with a jerk,I demanded if this were the governor's residence. Itwas; and I sprang to the ground, threw my rein to a486 APPEAL TO THE GOVERNOR.soldier, and, entering the court-yard, inquired the way tothe governor's room, which I entered without ceremony,announced in the usual way as Braheem Effendi, theAmerican traveler.Suleiman Bey was on his bed, in morning dress, surrounded by his officers, receiving their reports. At themoment of my entrance I heard the venerable sheik ofthevillage, a plain-looking Arab, relating the fact that a Frankparty were in the town; and the governor welcomed mewith much consideration.A chibouk and cup of coffee were handed me. Theusual exchange of polite phrases and oriental complimentsbrought matters to the point immediately. His excellency did me the honor to hope that I had been comfortable during my visit at Maalakha.Before I had time to reply, the rest of my party camein. They had waited for me on the plain; and when Idid not arrive they had turned back, recognized my horseat the door, and entered the presence. The governor remained seated on his bed, bowed very politely, and welcomed them, ordering coffee and chibouks; and I thenstated the history of our visit to the Greek house, basingmy complaint not so much on the value of the articlesstolen as the violation done to the eastern law of hospitality, which makes it the duty of the host to protect hisguest even against the officers of the law, and to the extent ofsacrificing his own family and life.Two soldiers were despatched to bring the offendingfamily to the diwan; and while they were gone wesmoked and drank coffee, and chatted with one another,and with the governor.Moreright was a man of too kind and gentle feelings to yield readily to convictions of the guilt of others;and in this instance he had, on the previous day, usedmuch argument with me to convince me of the possiTHE GOVERNOR'S EXAMINATION. 487bility that I was wrong in believing them to have committed the minor thefts. He now urged me to withdrawthe complaint which he feared was, after all, founded ona mistake. But I was of another way of feeling; andwhen the soldiers returned with Nama and his older sonand namesake, I reiterated my descriptions of the youngman Mousa, and sent them back after him. They broughthim at length. He was the picture of virtuous indignation. He steal the gunpowder! Not he! He was asinnocent of evil intention as his namesake the Prophet;and he would not give the governor a chance for a word,so violent and incessant were his asseverations."Stop him!" at length shouted Suleiman in an ecstasyof impatience; and a sharp blow on his lips from the flathand of a soldier hinted to him the propriety of takingturns in making a noise in that presence.The crowd around the house was now increased tomore than five hundred, but the countenances that hadbeen so exulting and insulting a few moments before, onthe hill, were changed. Some of the same men evenforced their way into the governor's room, keeping offfrom the carpet, and a group of thirty heads were onthe upper verandah, or landing-place, outside the door,striving to see what was going on.The governor was on his bed, I sat on a diwan oppositeto him, Miriam, Moreright, and Whitely on cushions ina semicircle, on the carpet, and behind them a dozen soldiers, three or four officers, and then some twenty ormore ofthe people crowded within the doorway. A finelooking old man, richly dressed , and evidently a friend ofthe governor, sat on the edge of his bed. The secretaryand the sheik of the village, with one or two officials,finished the group on that side of the room. A veryelegant brazier, heaped up with coals, stood in the middle of the carpet. All who were of sufficient rank to be488 COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS .on the carpet were smoking, even Miriam who, in courtesy, had taken the proffered chibouk and touched it toher lips.I have been particular in thus describing the room, thatmy reader may have some idea of the appearance of acourt of special sessions in Syria.Silence obtained, I stated the case briefly and gavemy testimony. A Mohammedan court requires no oath.The servants confirmed what I had stated. The prisoner,on being called on for his defence, began vociferatingas before, and the mother, who had not been broughtinto court, began a wail outside that was absolutelydeafening.Finding that there was no defence, Suleiman quietlywhispered to the officer nearest him. I could not hearthe words, but the crowd understood it perfectly. Theycleared the room in an instant, and Mousa howled andimplored, and begged, and besought, and at lengthshouted that he would bring the powder and shot, and,thereupon, the sentence was suspended. His father andbrother departed in company with an officer, and, after abrief delay, returned with two papers, which were handedto the governor and by him to me.I smiled as I opened them. The trick was too palpable:they had gone to a shop and bought Turkish powder andsome shot, which they hoped I would accept. Theywould then produce witnesses to prove that I waswrong.Suleiman looked at me enquiringly, and I threw thepapers back to the prisoner's feet, with an emphatic denial ofthe stuff."Take him out," thundered the governor, now thoroughly aroused.He was on his back in a twinkling, howling, shouting,screaming, but he was carried out to the piazza beforeMETHOD OF EXAMINATION. 489the door, where we could see the operation, and laid facedown. One man sat on his back and one on his legs,the latter holding up his feet, while a third laid on the baresoles a rhinoceros-hide koorbash, that whizzed throughtheair at every stroke.Poor Moreright was in agony, and Nama and Namathe second were on their faces, begging and wailing,now embracing my knees and now Whitely's, while thebrother, outside, made the air ring with cries louder thanEven Yusef, the honest fellow, whose housewe had occupied the second night, came and asked me,on his knees, to relent, and, last of all, Betuni-the doghad lost a feed-bag in their house and had been loudest inhis denunciations that morning-besought the Iowajji tohave mercy on the fellow.At the fifteenth blow he shouted his confession and thepunishment was suspended to hear it. He was broughtin, and then said that he had taken the powder and shotand that it would be found hidden in such a place. Wesent and found it, as also the other missing articles.There were some valuable things, that we had not thenmissed. Moreright breathed freely as they were broughtin, and smoked his chibouk with infinite zest, now quiterelieved of doubt. And now the just anger of SuleimanBey was excessive, and he appealed to me to know whatpunishment he should inflict on the culprit family, to restore our good opinion of his place. I declined interfering, and he, in the first place, ordered the dollar whichWhitely had given to the boy, to be returned . Whitelyprotested against this, but as the order was peremptory,he took it and tossed it across to the governor's secretarywho pocketed it without so much as a thank-you. Theentire family were now in custody, and their friendswere renewing their intercessions for them. The samehounds that had been loudest in their laughter at me on21*490 CHANGED FACES.the hill were on their knees now, and the scene threatenedto descend into the ludicrous if we waited any longer.I told the governor that, so far as we then knew, twohundred and fifty piastres (about ten dollars) would coverthe value of the stolen articles, and I requested him tofine the family that amount as part of the punishment. Iasked him if there were any poor Mussulmans in the place,and he said there were a plenty. I begged him to distributo the amount of the fine among them, inasmuchas the criminals were Greek Christians. He promised todo so, and to add such punishment as the flagrant offenceagainst the laws of hospitality, as well as the laws of Goddeserved. Sending the entire family to prison, he thencleared the crowd out of his room, insisted on our takinganother cup of coffee, and followed us to the doorwaywith the most distinguished politeness.AsThe mass of people in the court-yard was dense andimmovable. There were no shouts of derision now.I mounted, Yusef once more begged me to interfereand have mercy on them, but I looked around at thedark faces of the crowd and I couldn't find one drop ofpity in my heart for them. And Betuni, the scoundrel,nowconvinced that his feed-bag was in Nama's possession,and totally oblivious of his late merciful feelings, sittingon his inimitable donkey, high up on the top of his horses'feed and his accustomed store of bread-cakes, shoutedat Yusef:"Let the dogs be whipped; stop bothering the Effendi.Don't you understand justice here? Teach them to robtravelers next time I think my feed-bags will be safe it'I stop at Maalakha again-Y' Allah!"-and he pioneeredthe way to the gate, and the crowd parted to let us follow. So ended the cause of the Sultan against Nama andMousa, tried in the court of special sessions at Maalakha,Suleiman Bey, P. J., on the second day of April, 1856.LAST VIEW OF MOUNT HERMON. 491What more is left to be written? We climbed theeastern slope of Lebanon by a long, tedious, and dangerous road. Torrents roared in the deep ravines; cascades,that were Alpine in height and beauty, came pouringdown out of the snow-banks all the day, till we had gotten up to the snow, and then went over the edges ofprecipices along which our horses' feet found uncertainfooting in their swift currents. We rested for luncheonover the ruined castle of Abilias, that commanded theroad from Damascus, where it commences the ascent ofLebanon, and then we went up higher and higher, till atthree o'clock, suddenly, like a vision of another world, wesaw the blue Mediterranean sweeping far away into theclouds, and vessels that seemed like birds in the air.It was a moment, somewhat like that on Mount Scopus,when I saw the last of the noble summit of Jebel EsSheik.My eyes would no more rest on any hill or valley sanctified by his presence, whose life and death made HolyLand. So long as I slept within sight of Hermon I feltthat I was not yet wholly separated from the soil ofCanaan, and that I was on ground which had at least enjoyed the sight of the same hills that his eyes rested on.But henceforth I must look up to the stars as the onlycompanions of my wanderings on which the Son of Maryhad looked when he was a wanderer, and a shadow thatI can not well describe, but which, I believe, my readerunderstands, fell over me, when at length the loftymountain with its white crown disappeared from view.It was long after dark when we reached Khan SheikMahmoud. Ferrajj had taken the responsibility of pitching the tents on the roof of the khan, finding the groundaround too wet. The roof was of the usual material—brush covered with a foot of mud and gravel rolled hard.The pegs were easily driven in, and so we finished our492 BEYROUT.travels in Syria-having slept in pretty much every sortof house and place-by sleeping on the top of a khan,over the heads of a hundred Arab muleteers, mules andcamels.Six thousand feet below us we saw the lights of Beyrout, on the shore of the sea, and we slept to the musicof a gentle mountain breeze that brought us dreams ofhome.The road next day was execrable. It was the concentration of all the badness of the roads we had previouslytraveled. Lucky man, who has never a worse road totravel than the top of Orange county stone walls, or thebed of a mountain torrent. The streams rushed swiftly allthe way down our path. Several times we rode downcascades of thirty to fifty feet descent, where it seemedincredible that the horses could find footing. No expressions can be found to convey a just idea of these roadsof Syrian travel, for, as Whitely remarked, " If one saybut half, he will be accused of romancing and will not bebelieved."Ragged from head to foot, stained with the red mud ofthe plain of Baalbec, and sun-burned to the true Bedouinshade of color, we entered the pine groves of Beyrout,and getting up for the last time a faint sort of gallop, werode up, in a straggling line, to the gate of the city, butinstead of entering it, we skirted the southern side andreached the hotel of Demetri, on the sea shore, where wewere rejoiced once more at the appearances of Europeancomfort.I scarcely think my best friend would have recognizedme in the guise I then appeared in.The waves of the sea came dashing over the rocks at.the very front of Demetri's house. I sprang from myhorse, hurried to the room Abd- el-Atti had prepared forme, for he, as usual, had come on ahead, and then ILAST GALLOP. 493rushed out and down to the rocks, and plunged into theglorious surf. Was it not magnificent! How I laughedat the laughter of the waves, how cheerily I shouted tothem, how I tried my voice, if perchance it might goechoing and glancing along from wave-top to wave-top,right westward to cars far distant! How I lay down onthe breasts of the waves, and was rocked to and fro bytheir glorious heavings!But the book is full. I must pause just here. Beyrout had much to interest me during the week that Iremained in it, but I have not space to describe any ofthis. The noble American missionaries (Dr. Smith especially, who has but just now gone to God, whereArabian and American Christians talk the same language, but where, I doubt not, he finds the reward he sowell deserved for his untiring labors to make the wordof God here intelligible to one as to the other) , were ourfriends, and we enjoyed their hospitality with the utmostdelight.I rode out to the pass of the Nahr- el-Kelb, where thearmies of successive nations and centuries have marchedby and carved their tablets as they passed, until therocks ofthe hill bear more such inscriptions than perhapsany other pass in the world.Returning along the sands of the sea, we had a glorious run of seven miles to Beyrout, with the spraydashing cool and delicious over our foreheads. That wasmy last gallop with the good horse Mohammed. I wonder what is his fate. Whether he wanders around Tad.mor in the wilderness, or is down in the desert ofSinai. What Bedouin rides him in the Howaran, whatfierce desert fray my good steed was in last night, underwhat palm-tree he stands in the starlight, what childrens'tiny fingers feed him crusts of bread on the slopes ofLebanon,494 THE GOOD HORSE MOHAMMED.The steamer for Constantinople lay at anchor off theport. The breeze was off- shore, and a boat came upamong the rocks in front of the hotel to receive us andour baggage. It was a still , delicious morning. Thesunshine lay on Lebanon like a glory. The muleteersand servants gathered around the boat. It was hardparting from the companions of seven months of adventurous travel between Nubia and Damascus.Ferrajj was gleaming in the splendor of clean whiterobes. Hajji Mohammed was silent, and I thought notunmoved. Betuni was furious in his grief. They stoodon the rocks while Abd-el-Atti helped Miriam to herseat in the boat, and as I looked up at the dark-skinnedgroup, Mohammed, who had been feeding in the openyard around the hotel, came down to the bank withcurious eyes, as if he began to suspect something wrong,and looked so wistfully, that, on my honor, it was moredifficult to leave him than all the rest; I waved myhand to him and to his companions, for he had beenas honorable and faithful as they, and a long easy swellcarried us out of the break in the rocks, into the opensea.So I left the Holy Land.APPENDIX.ADVICE TO TRAVELERS VISITING SYRIA.Ir is a matter of great surprise to me that so few Americansvisit Jerusalem, when it is so easy of access. There is a regularFrench steamer from Marseilles every two weeks, which touches atJaffa, on its route from Alexandria to Constantinople, and anotherwhich touches on the return voyage. There is an Austrian steamerfrom Alexandria to Constantinople, and a return steamer also; sothat the traveler may leave Alexandria for Jaffa, on any Friday,by one or the other. Ifhe be at Constantinople, he may leave thatport on an Austrian steamer one week, or a French steamer thenext week, and go down to Beyrout, Haifa, or Jaſſa.The American traveler in Europe who desires to visit the HolyCity, will do so from Alexandria or Constantinople, as seems bestfor his own convenience. Advice for his route to Alexandria, andpreparations for visiting Egypt, he will find in my volume of" BOAT LIFE IN EGYPT AND NUBIA."In regard to the preparations necessary for a Syrian tour, everything will depend on the extent of the tour, and the persons composing the party. It is perfectly easy for gentlemen to reachJerusalem without any preparations, or dragoman. Landing fromthe steamer at Jaffa, they will find an American consular agentand American missionaries, who will instantly provide them withmeans of procuring horses. They can ride up to Jerusalem in asingle day, if they ride early and late. If there be ladies in theparty, preparations must be made beforehand; and for this pur-496 ADVICE то TRAVELERS .pose, if the traveler come from Alexandria, he will find it best tocomplete all his purchases there. There is no hotel at Jaffa.Some one is about to erect or open one. It may be already done,but I have not heard of it.Tents and furniture, dragoman, cook, servants, and provisions,must be procured in Egypt. The dragoman will supply all theseby contract. The rates are variable, as the dragoman may succeedin imposing on the traveler. Gentlemen alone, in a party ofthreeor more, should never pay over one pound cach; or, if paying more,should require extra good tents, beds, and furniture of all kinds.Gentlemen with ladies will pay a pound and a quarter for eachperson, and have the finest possible arrangements.The usual form of a contract with a dragoman, for Syria, is for acertain journey, with so many days' rest in various places, at afixed sum for the entire journey. But the traveler who wishes hisown time in each place, will find it preferable to pay his own expenses as he goes along, or to make his contract with his dragomanby the day.If the ride from Jerusalem to Jaffa be too much for one day, thetraveler will find a hospitable Latin convent at Ramleh, wherethey have clean rooms, but no beds or bedding. He can judge bymy account of the house of the American agent there, whether totry his rooms.At Jerusalem there are two tolerably fair inns, where board andlodging can be obtained. Elsewhere, in Syria, the tent is thesafest dependence, in all weather, for shelter and comfort.The traveler who purposes visiting Syria will need to providehimself with good pistols. I recommend the volcanic pistol, formerly known as Jennings' patent, as altogether preferable to any that I have seen. It is light, safe, and sure, and the ammunitioncompact and easily carried. For clothing, he will need the warmest, if his visit be in the spring, which is the safest season to visitthe Holy Land. Saddles, both for gentlemen and ladies, must beprocured before going to Syria, and the traveler who consults hisperfect comfort, will look out for and buy a good horse, expectingto sell him at a sacrifice when he leaves the country.I have said nothing of the route from Cairo across the desert,because this is now little used. The journey of forty days by wayADVICE TO TRAVELERS . 497of Sinai, or the long desert as it is usually called, scarcely repaysone for the fatigue incurred, while the little desert road, to Gaza,is avoided by the sea voyage.In coming from Constantinople, it is better to enter Syria atBeyrout. Here are good hotels, plenty of dragomans, and all conveniences for the commencement of a Syrian journey. It wouldbe a pleasure to know what traveler is this spring occupying mycanvas home, which I left in Beyrout, in which I passed so manynights of tent-life on the hills of Holy Land.It is not uncommon for gentlemen, who wish to travel economically, to visit Palestine without tents, trusting to such lodging asthey can obtain in the mud huts of the natives. It is a severetrial to the strength and powers of endurance of any man, and Istrongly advise the most hardy not to attempt it. It is this thathas sacrificed many noble young Americans to Syrian fevers.Roughing it in this manner, exposed to all weathers, with no shelter at night but the filthy huts of the people overrun with verminand destitute of beds or covering-pushing on day after day,week after week, the traveler at length sinks under the fatigue,which is greater from the constant excitement of travel in HolyLand, and finds at last a grave in the soil he so venerates. Suchgraves are among the most melancholy spots pointed out to thewanderer over the soil of Canaan.One grave I well remember that I lingered beside with intensest interest. It was that of a young French lady, who fella victim to her devotion to a holy pilgrimage, and died in her tent,surrounded indeed by many friends, but destitute of that attendance and those comforts which might perhaps have saved her.Whether Holy Land will ever be more accessible to travelers, isa problem I shall not undertake to solve. There may be a railway from Jerusalem to the coast some day, but at present there isnothing to warrant such an enterprise.In concluding this volume, it remains only for me to expressmy thanks to Mr. J. A. Adams for the beautiful vignettes whichornament so many of the chapters. I have elsewhere spoken ofthe larger illustrations, whose accuracy may be relied on.498 THE END.SINCE this book has been in the hands of the printer, I have received most sad intelligence from the East.In writing these pages, I had no opportunity of consulting myfriend Moreright as to my use of his true name, which I thereforetook the liberty of concealing under this title.I can never consult him now. There are many who will haverecognized him in the scenes I have described. There is no oneword I have written that I would change now.friend, an carnest, noble man. He is gone!He was a goodWe parted in Stamboul last May. On the 16th day of December, 1856, having visited Mosul and Nineveh, where we hadhoped to be together, he died at Diarbekir, and was buried onthe bank of the Tigris.I would there were space for more. This brief page containsnot room to record his virtues. However distant and diversemay be my wanderings, I shall never forget the companion of mypilgrimage to Jerusalem, the sunshine of our pleasant journeyingstogether, and our months of Tent Life in the Holy Land.By William C. Prime.Boat Life in Egypt & Nubia.Boat Life in Egypt and Nubia. By WILLIAM C. PRIME, Author of"The Old House by the River," " Later Years,"&c. Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin, $ 1 25.Tent Life in the Holy Land.By WILLIAM C. PRIME, Author of "The Old House by theRiver," "Later Years," &c. Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin , $ 1 25.The Old House by the River.By WILLIAM C. PRIME, Author of the " Owl Creek Letters. "12mo, Muslin, 75 cents.Later Years.By WILLIAM C. PRIME, Author of " The Old House by theRiver. " 12mo, Muslin, $ 1 00.

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