The mental bias towards prediction, which is almost unavoidably acquired by the practice of elucidation and commentary on a dark text, soon showed itself in the schools of the prophets. Many of them, trusting to their own ingenuity rather than to the suggestion of the Spirit of Truth, ventured to foretel the issue of events, and to delineate the future fortunes of nations, as well as of individuals. Hence the race of false prophets, who brought so much obloquy upon the whole order, and not unfrequently barred against the approach of godly admonition the ears of those who were actually addressed by an inspired messenger. Nay, it appears that some of them arrogated the power of realizing the good or the evil which they were pleased to foretel; allowing the people to believe that they were possessed with demons, who enabled them, not only to foresee, but to influence in no small measure the course of Providence. The impression on the mind of Ahab in regard to Micaiah leaves no room for doubt that the king imagined the prophet to be actuated by a malignant feeling towards him. "I hate him," he exclaimed, "for he doth not prophesy good concerning me, but evil." Nor was the conviction that this ungracious soothsayer spoke from his own wishes rather than from a divine impulse confined to the Israelitish monarch. The messenger who was sent to call Micaiah spake unto him, saying, "Behold now, the words of the prophets declare good unto the king with one mouth: let thy word, I pray thee, be like the word of one of them, and speak that which is good."[52]

When we consider the uncertainty which must have attended all predictions, where the wishes or feelings of the prophet could give a different expression to the purposes of God, we cannot any longer be surprised at the neglect with which such announcements were frequently treated by those to whom they were addressed. It is remarkable, too, that one prophet did not possess the gift of ascertaining the truth or sincerity of another who might declare that he spoke in the name of God; and hence there were no means of determining the good faith of this order of men, except the general evidence of a pious character, or the test of a successful experience. For example, when Jeremish proclaimed the approaching fall of Jerusalem, the other prophets were among the first to oppose him, saying, "Thou shalt surely die: why hast thou prophesied in the name of the Lord that this house shall be like Shiloh, and this city shall be desolate without an inhabitant?" The princes of Judah assembled in the Temple to hear the charge repeated against this fearless minister; when again, "spake the priests and the prophets unto the princes, and to all the people, saying, This man is worthy to die; for he hath prophesied against this city, as ye have heard with your ears."

It is worthy of notice, too, that the prediction which gave so much offence was conditional and contingent, and that Jeremiah, accordingly, incurred the hazard of suffering the severe punishment due to a false prophet; because if the people had turned from their sins the fate of their capital and nation would have been protracted. "The Lord sent me to prophesy against this house, and against this city, all the words that ye have heard. Therefore now amend your ways and your doings, and obey the voice of the Lord your God; and the Lord will repent him of the evil that he hath pronounced against you. As for me, behold, I am in your hand; do with me as seemeth good and meet unto you: but know ye for certain, that, if ye put me to death, ye shall surely bring innocent blood upon yourselves, and upon this city, and upon the inhabitants thereof; for of a truth the Lord hath sent me unto you, to speak all these words in your ears."[53]

The decision of the princes was more equitable than the accusation adduced by the priests and prophets; for according to the law of Moses no man could be punished for predicting the most calamitous events, provided he persevered in the assertion that he spoke in the name of Jehovah. The divine legislator denounced the penalty of death against every prophet who should speak in the name of any false god, or who should speak in the name of Jehovah that which he was not commanded to speak; but, in regard to the latter offence, the guilt could only be substantiated by the failure of the prophecy. "And if thou say in thine heart, how shall we know the word which the Lord hath not spoken? When a prophet speaketh in the name of the Lord, if the thing follow not, nor come to pass, that is the thing which the Lord hath not spoken, but the prophet hath spoken it presumptuously."[54]

It is obvious, however, that in all cases where a condition was implied, the fulfilment of the prediction could not be regarded as essential to the establishment of the prophetic character. The capture of Jerusalem produced the most undeniable testimony to the inspiration of Jeremiah, as well as to the sincerity of his expostulation; yet it is well known that his motives did not escape suspicion, and that his memory was loaded by many of his countrymen with the charge of having favoured the Chaldeans.

It may not appear out of place to inform the young reader that the prophets whose writings are contained in the Old Testament are in number sixteen, and usually divided into two classes, the greater and the minor, according to the extent of their works and the importance of their subject. Of the former, Isaiah, who may be regarded as the chief, began to prophesy under Uzziah, and continued till the first year of Manasseh. Jeremiah flourished a few years before the great captivity, and lived to witness the fulfilment of his own predictions. Ezekiel, who had been carried into the Babylonian territory some time before the ruin of his native country in the days of Zedekiah, began to perform his office among the Jewish captives in the land of the Chaldees, in the fifth year after Jehoiakim was made prisoner. Daniel, the youngest of the four, was only twelve years of age when he was involved in the miseries of conquest, and reduced to the condition of a dependent at a foreign court.

Among the twelve minor prophets, Jonas, Hosea, Amos, and Micah preceded the destruction of the kingdom of Israel. Nahum and Joel appeared between that catastrophe and the captivity of Judah. Habakkuk, Obadiah, and Zephaniah lived at the time when Jerusalem was taken, and during part of the captivity. Haggai, Zecharias, and Malachi, the last of the whole, prophesied after the return from Babylon.

But our business is rather with the literature of the prophets at large than with the special functions of the few individuals of their body who were commissioned by Heaven to reveal the secrets of future time. Of the fruits of their professional study we have fine examples preserved in the Psalms of David and the Proverbs of Solomon; the former, a collection of sacred lyrics composed for the worship of Jehovah; the latter, a compend of practical wisdom, suggested by an enlightened experience, and expressed in language equally striking for its divine truth and rare simplicity.

In early times the dictates of moral philosophy are enounced in short sentences, the result of much thought, and of which the effect is usually heightened by the introduction of a judicious antithesis both in the sentiment and the expression. The apothegms ascribed to the wise men of Greece belong to this kind of composition; being extremely valuable to a rude people who can profit by the fruits of reasoning without being able to attend to its forms, and deposite in their minds a useful precept, unencumbered with the arguments by means of which its soundness might be proved. The books which bear the name of Solomon are distinguished above all others for the sage views that they exhibit of human life, and for the sensible maxims addressed to all conditions of men who have to encounter its manifold perils—proving a guide unto the feet and a lamp unto the path.

In no respect does the Hebrew nation appear to greater advantage than when viewed in the light of their sublime compositions. Nor is this remark confined simply to the style or mechanism of their writings, which is nevertheless allowed by the best judges to possess many merits; but may be extended more especially to the exalted nature of their subjects,—the works, the attributes, and the purposes of Jehovah. The poets of pagan antiquity, on the other hand, excite by their descriptions of divine things our ridicule or disgust. Even the most approved of their order exhibit repulsive images of their deities, and suggest the grossest ideas in connexion with the principles and enjoyments which prevail among the inhabitants of Olympus. But the contemporaries of David, inferior in many things to the ingenious people who listened to the strains of Homer and of Virgil, are remarkable for their elevated conceptions of the Supreme Being as the Creator and Governor of the world, not less than for the suitable terms in which they give utterance to their exalted thoughts.

In no other country but Judea, at that early period, were such sentiments as the following either expressed or felt. "O Jehovah, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth, thou that hast set thy glory above the heavens! When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou has ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man, that thou visitest him? Bless Jehovah, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great, and art clothed with honour and majesty! Thou coverest thyself with light as with a garment, and stretchest out the heavens like a curtain: who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, who maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind! Bless Jehovah, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless Jehovah, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits; who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies. Jehovah is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy. He hath not dealt with us after our sins, neither rewarded us according to our iniquities. For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust."—"O Lord, thou hast searched me and known me: thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thoughts long before. Thou art about my bed and about my path, and art acquainted with all my ways. Whither shall I go from thy spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I go down to the dwelling of the departed, thou art there also. If I take the wings of the morning and abide in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me, even the night shall be turned into day. Yea, the darkness is no darkness with thee, but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee."

A similar train of lofty conception pervades the writings of the prophets. "Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out the heavens with a span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance? Behold, the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small dust of the balance; be taketh up the isles as a very little thing. It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grass-hoppers. Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, who bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names, by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power, no one faileth. Hast thou not known, hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth; fainteth not, neither is weary! There is no searching of his understanding."

The following quotation from the same inspired author is very striking, inasmuch as the truth contained in it is founded upon an enlarged view of the Divine government, and directly pointed against that insidious Manicheism, which, originating in the East, has gradually infected the religious opinions of a large portion of mankind. Light was imagined to proceed from one source, add darkness from another; all good was traced do one being, and all evil was ascribed to a hostile and antagonist principle. Spirit, pure and happy, arose from the former; while matter, with its foul propensities and jarring elements, took its rise from the latter. But Isaiah, guided by an impulse which supersedes the inferences of the profoundest philosophy, thus speaks concerning the God of the Hebrews:—"I am the Lord, and there is none else; there is no God besides me: I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace and create evil; I, the Lord, do all these things."

But it is not only in such sublimity of language and exalted imagery that the literature of the Hebrews surpasses the writings of the most learned and ingenious portion of the heathen world. A distinction not less remarkable is to be found in the humane and compassionate spirit which animates even the earliest parts of the sacred volume; composed at a time when the manners of all nations were still unrefined, and the softer emotions were not held in honour. "Blessed is he who considereth the poor and needy; the Lord will deliver him in the time of trouble. The Lord will preserve him and keep him alive; he shall be blessed upon earth, and thou wilt not deliver him into the will of his enemies. The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing; thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness."

We shall in vain seek for instances of such a benign and liberal feeling in the volumes of the most enlightened of pagan writers, whether poets or orators. How beautifully does the following observation made by Solomon contrast with the contempt expressed by Horace for the great body of his countrymen:—"He that despiseth his neighbour sinneth; but he that bath mercy on the poor happy is he. He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker."

Among the Israelites there was no distinction as to literary privilege or philosophical sectarianism. There was no profane vulgar in the chosen people. The stores of Divine knowledge were open to all alike. The descendant of Jacob beheld in every member of his tribe a brother, and not a master; one who in all the respects which give to man dignity and self-esteem was his equal in the strictest sense of the term. Hence the noble flame of patriotism which glowed in all the Hebrew institutions before the people became corrupted by idolatry and a too frequent intercourse with the surrounding tribes; and hence, too, the still more noble spirit of fraternal affection which breathed in their ancient law, their devotional writers, and their prophets.

It is worthy of remark, that in order to prevent any part of the sacred oracles from becoming obsolete or falling into oblivion, the inspired lawgiver left an injunction to read the books which bear his name, in the hearing of all the people, at the end of every seven years at farthest. "And Moses wrote this law, and delivered it unto the priests, the sons of Levi, which bare the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and unto all the elders of Israel. And Moses commanded them, saying, At the end of every seven years, in the solemnity of the year of release, in the feast of tabernacles, when all Israel is come to appear before the Lord thy God in the place which he shall choose, thou shaft read this law before all Israel in their hearing. Gather the people together, men, and women, and children, and thy stranger that is within thy gates, that they may hear, and that they may learn, and fear the Lord your God, and observe to do all the words of this law: and that their children which have not known any thing may hear, and learn to fear the Lord your God, as long as ye live in the land whither ye go over Jordan to possess it."[55]

The value of the Levitical institution, whence originated the schools of the prophets, will be the moat highly appreciated by those readers who have noted the evils which arose from its suppression among the ten tribes, and finally, in the kingdom of Judah itself. The separation of the Israelites under Jeroboam led, in the first instance, to a defection from the Mosaic ritual, and, in the end, to the establishment of a rival worship,—a revolution which compelled all the Levites who remained attached to the primitive faith to desert such of their cities as belonged to the revolted tribes, and to seek an asylum among their brethren who acknowledged the successor of Solomon. Hence the reign of idolatry and that total neglect of the law which disgraced the government of the new dynasty; though it must be granted, that with a view to perpetuate their relationship to the father of the faithful, the people preserved certain copies of the Pentateuch, even after the desolation of their land and the complete extinction of their political independence.

It is more surprising to find, that even among the orthodox Hebrews at Jerusalem the law sank into a gradual oblivion; insomuch that in the days of Jehosophat, the fifth from David, it was found necessary to appoint a special commission of Levites and priests to revive the knowledge of its holy sanctions in all parts of the country. "And they taught in Judah, and had the book of the law of the Lord with them, and went about throughout all the cities of Judah, and taught the people."[56]

At a later period, after a succession of idolatrous princes, the neglect of the Mosaical writings became still more general, till at length the very manuscript, or book of the law, which used to be read in the ears of the congregation, could nowhere be found. Josiah, famed for his piety and attention to the ceremonies of the national religion, gave orders to repair the Temple for the worship of Jehovah; on which occasion, Hilkiah, the high-priest, found the precious record in the house of the Lord, and sent it to the king.[57] A momentary zeal bound the people once more to the belief and usages of their ancestors; but the example of the profane or careless sovereigns who afterward filled the throne of Josiah plunged the country once more into guilt, obliterating all recollection of the divine statutes, at least as a code of public law. The captivity throws a temporary cloud over the Hebrew annals, and prevents us from tracing beyond that point the progress of opinion on this interesting subject. But upon the return from Babylon a new era commences; and we now observe the same people, who in their prosperity were constantly deviating into the grossest superstitions and most contemptible idolatry, remarkable for a rigid adherence to the ritual of Moses, and for a severe intolerance towards all who questioned its heavenly origin or its universal obligation. Ezra is understood to have charged himself with the duty of collecting and arranging the manuscripts which had survived the desolation inflicted upon his country by the arms of Assyria, at the same time substituting for the more ancient characters usually known as the Samaritan the Chaldean alphabet, to which his followers had now become accustomed. From these notices, however, which respect a later period, we return to the more primitive times immediately succeeding the era of the commonwealth.

We have ascribed the cultivation of sacred knowledge to the schools of the prophets, without having been able to trace very distinctly the institution of these seminaries to the Levitical colleges, the proper fountains of the national literature. In the days of Samuel, it would appear that the necessity of certain subordinate establishments had been admitted, in order to supply a class of persons qualified to instruct such of the people as lived at a distance from the cities of the Levites. The rule of the prophetical schools seems to have borne some resemblance to that of the better description of Christian convents in the primitive ages, enjoining abstinence and labour, together with an implicit obedience to the authority of their superiors. The clothing, also, it may be presumed, was humble, and somewhat peculiar. A rough garment fastened with a girdle round the loins is alluded to by Zechariah; while the impression made on the courtiers at Ramoth-gilead by the appearance of one of the sons of the prophets sent thither by Elisha would lead us to the same conclusion. "Wherefore," said they, "came this mad fellow to thee?" Nor is it without reason that some authors have attributed the conduct of the children who mocked Elieha to the uncouthness of his dress and to the want of a covering for his head. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that from the societies now mentioned sprang the most distinguished men who adorned the happiest era of the Jewish church.

Were we allowed to form a judgment from the few incidents recorded in the books of the Kings, we should conclude that the accomplishment of writing was not very general among the subjects of David and Solomon. It is ingeniously conjectured by Michaelis, that Joab, the captain of the host, and sister's son of the inspired monarch himself, could not handle the pen; else he would not, for the purpose of concealing from the bearer the real object for which he was sent, have found it necessary to tax his ingenuity by putting the very suspicious detail of Uriah's death into the mouth of a messenger to be delivered verbally to the king. He would at once have written to him that the devoted man was killed.[58]

As to science in its higher branches, we can not expect any proofs of eminence among a secluded people, devoted, as the Hebrews were, to the pursuits of agriculture and the feeding of cattle. Solomon, indeed, is said to have been acquainted with all the productions of nature, from the cedar of Libanus to the hyssop on the wall; and we may readily believe, that the curiosity which distinguished his temper would find some gratification in the researches of natural history,—the first study of the opening mind in the earliest stage of social life. But astronomy had not advanced farther than to present an interesting subject of contemplation to the pious mind, which could only regard the firmament as a smooth surface spread out like a curtain, or bearing some resemblance to the canopy of a spacious tent. The schools of the prophets, we may presume, were still strangers to those profound calculations which determine the distance, the magnitude, and the periodical revolutions of the heavenly bodies. Even the sages of Chaldea, who boast a more ancient civilization than is claimed by the Hebrews, satisfied themselves with a few facts which they had not learned to generalize, and sometimes with conjectures which had hardy any relation to a fixed principle or a scientific object. Long after the reign of David, these wise men had not distinguished the study of the stars from the dreams of astrology.

The first application of astronomical principle is to the division of time, as marked out by the periodical movements of the heavenly bodies. The Hebrews combined in their calculations a reference to the sun and to the moon, so as to avail themselves of the natural measure supplied by each. Their year accordingly was lunisolar, consisting of twelve lunar months, with an intercalation to make the whole agree with the annual course of the sun. The year was further distinguished as being either common or ecclesiastical. The former began at the autumnal equinox, the season at which they imagined the world was created; while the latter, by Divine appointment, commenced about six months earlier, the period when their fathers were delivered from the thraldom of Egypt. Their months always began with the new moon; and before the captivity they were merely named according to their order, the first, second, third, and so on down to the twelfth. But upon their return they used the terms which they found employed in Babylon, according to the following series:—

Nisan[59] March. Zif, or Ijar April. Sivan May. Tamuz June. Ab July. Elul August. Ethanim, or Tisri September. Bul, or Mareshuan October. Chisleu November. Tebeth December. Sebat January. Adar February.

One-half of these months consisted of thirty days, the other of twenty-nine, alternately making in all three hundred and fifty-four. To supply the eleven days and six hours which were deficient, they introduced every second year an additional month of twenty-two days, and every fourth year one of twenty-three days; by which means they approached as nearly to the true measure as any other nation had attained till the establishment of the Gregorian calendar.

The Hebrews divided the space from sunrise to sunset into twelve equal parts, and hence the hours of their day varied in length according to the season of the year. For example, when the sun rose at five and set at seven, an hour contained seventy minutes; but when it rose at seven and set at five, the hour was reduced to fifty minutes, and so on in proportion to the duration of the time that the sun was above the horizon. A similar rule applied to the night, which was likewise divided into twelve equal portions.

It must be acknowledged, however, that the observations now made apply rather to the acquirements of the Jews after their return from the East, than to the more simple condition in which they appear under their judges and prophets.

Next to the learning of this early period, the reader of the sacred history will have his curiosity excited in regard to the time, the place, and the manner of religious worship. When the Israelites had obtained possession of the Holy Land, and distributed the territory among their tribes, the tabernacle, or ambulatory temple, was placed at Shiloh, a town in the possession of Ephraim. To that sacred retreat the Hebrews were wont to travel at the three great festivals, to accomplish the service enjoined by their law.

But it appears that a more ordinary kind of religious duty was performed at certain stations within the several tribes, in the intervals between the stated feasts appointed fur the whole nation; having some reference, it is probable, to the periodical return of the Sabbath and new moons. For this purpose the people seem to have repaired to high places, where they might more readily perceive the lunar crescent, and give utterance to their customary expression of gratitude and joy. This species of adoration was connived at rather than authorized by the priests and Levites, who found it impossible to check altogether the propensity of the multitude to perform their worship on the high hill and under the green tree. Samuel, the prophet and judge, saw the expediency on one occasion of building an altar unto the Lord on Ramah, which is called the High Place; and in the reign of Solomon the same practice was confirmed, "because there was no house built unto the name of the Lord until those days."[60]

It is difficult to determine with precision at what epoch the Hebrews first formed those meetings or congregations which are called synagogues,—a name afterward more frequently applied to the buildings in which they convened. The earliest allusion to them is found in the seventy-fourth Psalm, where the writer, describing the havoc committed by the Assyrians, remarks, "they have burnt up all the synagogues of God in the land." We might infer, from this statement alone, that such edifices were common before the Babylonian captivity; but we are supplied with a more direct proof in the words of St. James, who informs us that "Moses of old time hath in every city them that preach him, being read in the synagogues every Sabbath-day."[61]

The duty in these places, which was confined to prayer and exposition, was performed by that section of the Levites who are usually denominated scribes; the higher office of sacrifice, the scene of which was first the tabernacle and afterward the temple, being confined to the priests, the sons of Aaron. Perhaps in remote places, where the population was small, the inhabitants met in the house of the Levite, a conjecture which derives some plausibility from an affecting incident mentioned in the second book of the Kings. When the son of the woman of Shunem died, "she called unto her husband and said, send me, I pray thee, one of the young men, and one of the asses, that I may run to the man of God. And he said, wherefore wilt thou go? it is neither new moon nor Sabbath." It is reasonable to conclude, that on these days it was customary to repair to the dwelling of the holy man for religious purposes.

We have already alluded to the fact, that at the first settlement of the Promised Land the tabernacle was established in Shiloh, a village in Ephraim, at that time the most numerous and powerful of all the tribes. The profanity or, disobedience of the people in this district led to the removal of the Divine presence, the symbols of which were commanded to be deposited in Jerusalem. "Go ye," says the prophet Jeremiah, "unto my place which was in Shiloh, where I set my name at the first; and see what I did to it for the wickedness of my people Israel." Hence the origin of the feud which subsisted so long between Ephraim and Judah, and afterward between the Jews and Samaritans, in regard to the spot where Jehovah ought to be worshipped. Each laid claim to a Divine appointment; neither would yield to the other or hold the slightest intercourse in their adoration of the same great Being; and the question remained as far as ever from being determined when the Romans finally cut down all distinctions by their victorious arms.

Our limits will not permit us to indulge in a minute account of the Jewish festivals. Still the three great institutions at which all the males of the Hebrew nation were commanded to appear before Jehovah are so frequently mentioned in the history of the Holy Land, that we must take leave to specify their general objects. The feast of the Passover, comprehending that of unleavened bread, commemorated the signal deliverance of this wonderful people from the tyranny of Pharaoh. It was to be kept upon the fifteenth day of the first month, to last seven days, and to begin, as all their festivals began, the evening before at the going down of the sun.

The reader will attend to the distinction just stated—the beginning and end of their sacred days. The celebration of the ordinary Sabbath, indeed, commenced on the evening of Friday, and terminated at the going down of the sun on Saturday. "From even unto even shall ye celebrate your Sabbaths." But the Jews, in the concluding period of their government, had innovated so far on the Mosaical institution as to prohibit the passover from being observed on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, and to appoint the celebration of it on the following day. The year in which our Lord suffered death this great annual feast fell on a Friday—beginning, as already stated, at sunset on Thursday evening—and the Redeemer accordingly, who came to fulfil all righteousness, ate the paschal supper with his disciples on the evening of Thursday. Yet the Jews, we find from the evangelical narrative, were not to observe that rite till the following evening; and hence, the early part of Friday being the preparation, they would not go into the judgment hall "lest they should be defiled, but that they might eat the passover" after the going down of the sun. For the same reason they besought Pilate that the bodies might be removed; intimating that the day which was to begin at sunset was to them a high day, being in fact not only the Sabbath, but also the paschal feast, both extremely solemn in the estimation of every true Israelite.

On the ground now stated is easily explained the apparent discrepancy between the account given by St. John and that of the other Evangelists. They tell us that our Lord celebrated the passover on Thursday evening the first day of the yearly festival; whereas the beloved disciple relates, that the neat morning was still the preparation of that ordinance which was to be observed by the whole nation the ensuing night. Both statements are perfectly correct; only our Saviour adhered to the day fixed by the original institution, while the priests and lawyers followed the rule established by the Sanhedrim, which threw the festival a day after its proper time.

The proper preparation indeed of every festival began only at three o'clock, called by the Hebrews the ninth hour, and continued till the close of the day, or the disappearance of the sun. It was at that hour, accordingly, that the Jews entreated the governor to take down the bodies from the cross; holding it extremely improper that any token of a curse or capital punishment should meet their eyes while making ready to kill the paschal lamb.

The Feast of Pentecost was an annual offering of gratitude to Jehovah for having blessed the land with increase. It took place fifty days after the passover, and hence the origin of its name in the Greek version of our Scriptures. Another appellation was applied to it—the Feast of Weeks—for the reason assigned by the inspired lawgiver. "Seven weeks shall thou number unto thee; beginning to number the seven weeks from such time as thou puttest the sickle to the corn. And thou shalt keep the feast of weeks unto the Lord thy God with a tribute of a free-will offering of thine hand, in the place which Jehovah shall choose to place his name there: And thou shall remember that thou wast a bondman in Egypt."[62]

This was a very suitable celebration in an agricultural society, where joy is always experienced upon the gathering in of the fruits of the earth. The Hebrews were especially desired on that happy occasion to contrast their improved condition, as freemen reaping their own lands, with the miserable state from which they had been rescued by the good providence of Jehovah. The month of May witnessed the harvest-home of all Palestine in the days of Moses, as well as in the present times; and no sooner was the pleasant toil of filling their barns completed, than all the males repaired to the holy city with the appointed tribute is their hands, and the song of praise in their mouths. Jewish antiquaries inform us, that there was combined with this eucharistical service a commemoration of the wonders which took place at Mount Sinai, when the Lord condescended to pronounce his law in the ears of his people. The history of our own religion has supplied a greater event, which at once supersedes the pious recollections of the Hebrew, and touches the heart of the Christian worshipper with the feeling of a more enlightened gratitude.

The termination of the vintage was marked with a similar expression of thanksgiving, uttered by the assembled tribes in the place which had received the "Name of Jehovah;" the visible manifestation of his presence and power. The precept for this observance is given in the following terms:—"On the fifteenth day of the seventh month, when ye have gathered in the fruit of the land, ye shall keep a feast unto the Lord seven days. And ye shall take unto you, on the first day, the boughs of goodly trees, branches of palm-trees, and the boughs of thick trees and willows of the brook; and ye shall rejoice before the Lord your God seven days. Ye shall dwell in booths seven days, that your generations may know that I made the children of Israel to dwell in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt."

This festival was of the most lively and animated description, celebrated with a joyous heart, and under the canopy of heaven, in a most delightful season of the year. If more exquisite music and more graceful dances accompanied the gathering in of the grapes on the banks of the Cephisus, the tabret and the viol and the harp, which sounded around the walls of the sacred metropolis, were not wanting in sweetness and gayety; and, instead of the frantic riot of satyrs and bacchanals, the rejoicing was chastened by the solemn religious recollections with which it was associated, in a manner, remarkably pleasing and picturesque.[63]

The feast of Trumpets had a reference to the mode practised by many of the ancients for announcing the commencements of seasons and epochs. The beginning of every month was made known to the inhabitants of Jerusalem by the sound of musical instruments. "Blow up the trumpet in the new moon, in the time appointed, on our solemn feast-day: for this was a statute for Israel, a law of the God of Jacob." As the first day of the moon in September was the beginning of the civil year, the festivity was greater and more solemn than on other occasions. The voice of the trumpets waxed louder than usual, and the public mind was instructed by a grave assurance from the mouth of the proper officer, that another year was added to the age of the world. "In the seventh month, in the first day of the month, shall ye have a Sabbath, a memorial of blowing of trumpets, an holy convocation. Ye shall do no servile work therein; but ye shall offer an offering made by fire unto the Lord."[64]

We have already alluded to the jubilee which occurred periodically after the lapse of forty-nine years, or, as the Jews were wont to express it, after a week of Sabbaths. The benevolent uses of this most generous institution are known to every reader, more especially as they respected personal freedom and the restoration of lands and houses. Great care was taken by the Jewish legislator to prevent an accumulation of property in one individual, or even in one tribe. Nor was his anxiety less to prevent the alienation of land, either by sale, mortgage, or marriage. With this view we find him enacting a rule, suggested by the case of the daughters of Zelophedad, who had been allowed to become heirs to their father, of which the object was to perpetuate the possession of landed estates within the limits of each particular tribe. The heads of the chief families of Manasseh, to which community the young women belonged, came before Moses and the Princes of Israel, when, after reminding these dignitaries of the fact just mentioned, they said, "If they be married to any of the sons of the other tribes, then shall their inheritance be taken from the inheritance of our fathers, and shall be put to the inheritance of the tribe whereunto they are received; so shall it be taken from the lot of our inheritance. And when the jubilee of the children of Israel shall be, then shall their inheritance be put unto the inheritance of the tribe whereunto they are received: so shall their inheritance be taken away from the inheritance of the tribe of our fathers."

To this judicious remonstrance Moses gave the following answer:—"This is the thing which the Lord doth command concerning the daughters of Zelophedad; let them marry to whom they think best; only to the family of the tribe of heir father shall they marry. And every daughter that possesseth an inheritance shall be wife unto one of the family, of the tribe of her father, that the children of Israel may enjoy every man the inheritance of his fathers. Neither shall the inheritance remove from one tribe to another tribe; but every one of the tribes of the children of Israel shall keep himself to his own inheritance."[65]

Besides the anniversaries enjoined by Divine authority, the Hebrews observed several which were meant to keep alive the remembrance of certain great events recorded in their history. Of these was the Feast of Dedication mentioned by St. John, referring, it has been thought, to the purification of the altar by Judas Maccabaeus, after it had been profaned by Antiochus, the king of Syria. When the ceremony was performed, "Judas and his brethren, with the whole congregation of Israel, ordained that the days of the dedication of the altar should be kept in their season, from year to year, by the space of eight days, from the five-and-twentieth day of the ninth month (November), with mirth and gladness."[66]

The restoration of the heavenly fire in the temple, after the return from Babylon, was likewise commemorated every year. This sacred flame, which had been long extinct, was revived on the altar the day that Nehemiah performed sacrifice in the new building. For this reason the Jews of Palestine wrote to those in Egypt, recommending an annual festival in remembrance of an event so important to their national worship. They thought it necessary to certify them of the fact, that their brethren also might celebrate the "feast of the fire which was given us when Neemias offered sacrifice after that he had builded the Temple and the altar."[67]

It was likewise a custom among this singular people, that the young women "went yearly to lament the daughter of Jephthah, the Gileadite, four days in a year." A more joyous ceremony, on the fourteenth and fifteenth days of the month Adar, reminded the faithful Hebrew of the triumph gained by his kindred over the cruel and perfidious Haman, who had intended to extirpate their whole race. Besides these, we find in the book of Zecharias the prophet an allusion to the "fast of the fourth month, and the fast of the fifth, and the fast of the seventh, and the fast of the tenth;" days of humiliation which probably recalled certain national calamities, such as the destruction of their city and Temple, and the era of their long captivity.

In concluding this chapter on the literature and religion of the ancient Hebrews, we may remark, in regard to the system bequeathed to them by Moses, that it contains the only complete body of law which was ever given to a people at one time,—that it is the only entire body of law which has come down to our days,—that it is the only body of ancient law which still governs an existing people,—that, the nation which it respects being scattered over the face of the whole earth, it is the only body of law that is equally observed in the four quarters of the globe,—and, finally, that all the other codes of law of which history has preserved any recollection, were given to communities who already had written statutes, but who wished to change their form or modify their application; whereas, in this case, we behold a new society under the hands of a legislator who proceeds to lay its very foundations.[68]

It may be said of the Hebrews, that they had no profane literature, no works devoted to mere amusement or relaxation. As they admitted no image of any thing in heaven or in earth, they consequently rejected the use of all those arts called imitative, and which supply so large a portion of the more refined enjoyment characteristic of civilized nations. In like manner, they seem to have viewed in the light of sacrilege every attempt to bring down the sublime language in which they praised Jehovah and recorded his mighty works, to the more common and less hallowed purposes of fictitious narrative, or of amatory, dramatic, and lyrical composition. The Jews have no epic poem to throw a lustre on the early annals of their literature. Even the Song of Songs is allowed to have a spiritual import, pointing to much higher themes than Solomon and his Egyptian bride. A solemn gravity pervades all their writings, befitting a people who were charged with the religious history of the world and with the oracles of Divine truth. No smile appears to have ever brightened the countenance of a Jewish author,—no trifling thought to have passed through his mind,—no ludicrous association to have been formed in his fancy. In describing the flood of Deucalion, the Roman poet laughs at the grotesque misery which he himself exhibits, and purposely groups together objects with the intention of exerting to his readers the feeling of ridicule. But in no instance can we detect the faintest symptom of levity in the Hebrew penmen; their style, like their subject, is uniformly exalted, chaste, and severe; they wrote to men concerning the things of God, in a manner suitable to such a momentous communication; and they never ceased to remember that, in all their records, whether historical or prophetic, they were employed in propagating those glad tidings by which all the families of the earth were to be blessed.

There can be no stronger proof of the pure and sublime nature of Hebrew poetry than is supplied by the remarkable fact, that it has been introduced into the service of the Christian church, and found suitable for expressing those lofty sentiments with which the gospel inspires the heart of every true worshipper. No other nation of the ancient world has produced a single poem which could be used by an enlightened people in these days for the purposes of devotion.[69] Hesiod, although much esteemed for the moral tone of his compositions, presents very few ideas indeed capable of being accommodated to the theology of an improved age. In perusing the works of the greatest writers of paganism, we are struck with a monstrous incongruity in all their conceptions of the Supreme Being. The majesty with which the Hebrews surrounded Jehovah is entirely wanting; the attributes belonging to the great Sovereign of the universe are not appreciated; the providence of the Divine mind, united with benevolence, compassion, and mercy, is never found to enter into their descriptions of the eternal First Cause; while their incessant deviations into polytheism outrage our religious feelings, and carry us back to the verb rudest periods of human history.

In these respects the literature of the Jews is far exalted above that of every other nation of which history has preserved any traces. It must be acknowledged, that we remain ignorant of the learning and theological opinions cultivated among the Persians at the time when the Jews were under their dominion, and cannot therefore determine the precise extent to which the dogmas of the captive tribes were affected by their intercourse with a race of men who certainly taught the doctrine of the Divine unity, and abstained from idolatrous usages. But confining our judgment even to the oldest compositions of the Hebrews, those, for example, which may be traced to the days of Moses, of Samuel, and of David, we cannot hesitate to pronounce that they are distinguished by a remarkable peculiarity, indicating by the most unambiguous tokens, that, in all things pertaining to religious belief, the descendants of Jacob were placed under a special superintendence and direction.



CHAPTER V.

Description of Jerusalem.

Pilgrimages to the Holy Land; Arculfus; Willibald; Bernard; Effect of Crusades; William de Bouldessell; Bertrandon de la Broquiere; State of Damascus; Breidenbach; Baumgarten; Bartholemeo Georgewitz; Aldersey; Sandys; Doubdan; Cheron; Thevenot; Gonzales; Morison; Maundrell; Pococke; Road from Jaffa to Jerusalem; Plain of Sharon; Rama or Ramla; Condition of the Peasantry; Vale of Jeremiah; Jerusalem; Remark of Chateaubriand; Impressions of different Travellers; Dr. Clarke; Tasso; Volney; Henniker; Mosque of Omar described; Mysterious Stone; Church of Holy Sepulchre; Ceremonies of Good Friday; Easter; The Sacred Fire; Grounds for Skepticism; Folly of the Priests; Emotion upon entering the Holy Tomb; Description of Chateaubriand; Holy Places in the City; On Mount Zion; Pool of Siloam; Fountain of the Virgin; Valley of Jehoshaphat; Mount of Offence; The Tombs of Zechariah, of Jehoshaphat, and of Absalom; Jewish Architecture; Dr. Clarke's Opinion on the Topography of Ancient Jerusalem; Opposed by other Writers; The Inexpediency of such Discussions.

Having described, as fully as the plan of our undertaking will admit, the constitution, history, learning, and religion of the ancient Hebrews, we now proceed to give an account of the present condition of the country which they inhabited nearly 1500 years, interrupted only by short intervals of captivity or oppression. The connexion which Christianity acknowledges with the people and soil of Judea has, from the earliest times, given a deep interest to travels in the Holy Land. The curiosity natural to man in respect to things which have obtained celebrity, joined to the conviction, hardly leas natural, that there is a certain merit in enduring privation and fatigue for the sake of religion, has in every age induced pilgrims to visit the scenes where our Divine Faith was originally established, and to communicate to their contemporaries the result of their investigations. It is to be regretted, indeed, that some of them from ignorance, and others from a feeling of the weakest bigotry, have omitted to notice those very objects which are esteemed the most interesting to the general reader; thinking it their duty, as one of them expresses it, to "quench all spirit of vain curiosity, lest they should return without any benefit to their souls."

About the year 705, Jerusalem and its holy places were visited by Arculfus, from whose report Adamnan composed a narrative, which was received with considerable approbation. He describes the Temple on Mount Calvary with some minuteness, mentioning its twelve pillars and eight gates. But his attention was more particularly attracted by relics, those objects which all Jerusalem flocked to handle and to kiss with the greatest reverence. He saw the cup used at the last supper,—the sponge on which the vinegar was poured,—the lance which pierced the side of our Lord,—the cloth in which he was wrapped,—also another cloth woven by the Virgin Mary, whereon were represented the figures of the Saviour and of the Twelve Apostles.

Eighty years later, Willibald, a Saxon, undertook the same journey, influenced by similar motives. From his infancy he had been distinguished by a sage and pious disposition; and, on emerging from boyhood, he was seized with an anxious desire to "try the unknown ways of peregrination—to pass over the huge wastes of ocean to the ends of the earth." To this erratic propensity he owed all the fame which a place in the Romish calendar and the authorship of an indifferent book can confer. In Jerusalem he saw all that Arculfus saw, and nothing more; but he had previously visited the Tomb of the Seven Sleepers, and the cave in which St. John wrote the Apocalypse.

Bernard proceeded to Palestine in the year 878. He travelled first in Egypt, and from thence made his way across the Desert, the heat of which called vividly to his imagination the sloping hills of Campania when covered with snow. At Alexandria he was subjected to tribute by the avaricious governor, who paid no regard to the written orders of the sultan. The treatment which he received at Cairo was still more distressing. He was thrown into prison, and in this extremity he asked counsel of God; whereupon it was miraculously revealed to him, that thirteen denari, such as he had presented to the other Mussulman, would produce here an equally favourable result. The celestial origin of this advice was proved by its complete success. The pilgrim was not only liberated, but obtained letters from the propitiated ruler which saved him from all farther exaction.

The Crusades threw open the holy places to the eyes of all Europe; and accordingly, so long as a Christian king swayed the sceptre in the capital of Judea, the merit of individual pilgrimage was greatly diminished. But no sooner had the warlike Saracens recovered possession of Jerusalem than the wonted difficulty and danger returned; and, as might be expected, the interest attached to the sacred buildings, which the "infidel dogs" were no longer worthy to behold, revived in greater vigour than formerly. In 1331, William de Bouldesell adventured on an expedition into Arabia and Palestine, of which some account has been published. In the monastery of St. Catharine, at the base of Mount Sinai, he was hospitably received by the monks, who showed him the bones of their patron reposing in a tomb, which, however, they appear not to have treated with much respect. By means of hard beating, we are told, they brought out from these remains of mortality a small portion of blood, which they presented to the pilgrim as a gift of singular value. A circumstance which particularly astonished him would probably have produced no surprise in a less believing mind; the blood, it seems, "had not the appearance of real blood, but rather of some thick oily substance;" nevertheless, the miracle was regarded by him as one of the greatest that had ever been witnessed in this world.

A hundred years afterward Bertrandon de la Broquiere sailed from Venice to Jaffa, where, according to the statistics of contrite pilgrims, the "pardons of the Holy Land begin." At Jerusalem he found the Christians reduced to a state of the most cruel thraldom. Such of them as engaged in trade were locked up in their shops every night by the Saracens, who opened the doors in the morning at such an hour as seemed to them most proper or convenient. At Damascus they were treated with equal severity. The first two persons whom he met in this city knocked him down,—an injury which he dared not resent for fear of immediately losing his life. About thirty years before the period of his visit, the destroying arms of Timur had laid a large portion of the Syrian capital in ruins, though the population had again increased to nearly one hundred thousand. During his stay he witnessed the arrival of a caravan consisting of more than three thousand camels. Its entry employed two days and two nights; the Koran wrapped in silk being carried in front on the back of a camel richly adorned with the same costly material. This part of the procession was surrounded by a number of persons brandishing naked swords, and playing on all sorts of musical instruments. The governor, with all the inhabitants, went out to meet the holy cavalcade, and to do homage to the sacred ensign, which at once proclaimed their faith, and announced the object of the pious mission thus successfully concluded. Broquiere found the greatest respect paid to every one who had performed the pilgrimage to Mecca, and was gravely assured by an eminent Moulah, that no such person could ever incur the hazard of everlasting damnation.

We merely mention the names of Breidenbach of Mentz, and of Martin Baumgarten, who in the beginning of the sixteenth century achieved a journey into the Holy Land. The latter of these, while passing through Egypt, was most barbarously treated by the Saracen boys, who pelted him with dirt, brickbats, stones, and rotten fruit. At Hebron he was shown the field "were it is said, or at least guessed, that Adam was made;" but the reddish earth of which it is composed is now used in the manufacture of prayer-beads.

The work of Bartholemeo Georgewitz, who travelled in the same century, gives a melancholy account of the miseries endured by such Christians as were carried into slavery by the Turks in those evil days. The armies of that nation were followed by slave-dealers supplied with chains, by means of which fifty or sixty were bound in a row together, leaving only two feet between to enable them to walk. The hands were manacled during the day, and at night the feet also. The sufferings inflicted upon men of rank, and those belonging to the learned professions, were almost beyond description; extending not only to the lowest labours of the field, but even to the work of oxen, being sometimes yoked like these animals in the plough. Owing to the great rivers and arms of the sea, it was extremely difficult for those who were sent into Asia to effect their escape; whence, in many cases, the horrors of captivity had no other limits than those of the natural life. No wonder that Bartholemeo recommends to every one visiting those parts to make his will, "like one going not to the earthly, but to the heavenly Jerusalem."

Laurence Aldersey, who set out from London in 1581, was the first Protestant who encountered the perils of a voyage to Syria. In the Levant a Turkish galley hove in sight, and caused great alarm. The master, "being a wise fellow, began to devise how to escape the danger; but, while both he and all of us were in our dumps, God sent us a merrie gale of wind." As they approached Candia a violent storm came on, and the mariners began to reproach the Englishman as the cause, "and saide I was no good Christian, and wished I were in the middest of the sea, saying that they and the shippe were the worse for me." He replied, "I think myself the worst creature in the worlde, and do you consider yourselves also." These remonstrances were followed by a long sermon, the tenor of which was, "that they were not all good Christians, else it were not possible for them to have such weather." A gentleman on board informed Aldersey, that the suspicions respecting him originated in his refusal to join in the prayers to the Virgin Mary,—a charge which he parried by remarking that "they who praied to so many goe a wrong way to worke." The friars, resolving to bring the matter to an issue, sent round the image of Our Lady to kiss. On its approach the good Protestant endeavoured to avoid it by going another way; but the bearer "fetched his course about," and presented it. The proffered salutation being then positively rejected, the affair might have become serious, had not two of the more respectable monks interceded in his behalf, and enforced a more charitable procedure.

Of the people of Cyprus he remarks, that they "be very rude, and like beasts, and no better: they eat their meat sitting upon the ground, with their legs acrosse like tailors." On the 8th of August they arrived at Joppa, but did not till the next day receive permission to land from the great pasha, "who sate upon a hill to see us sent away." Aldersey had mounted before the rest, which greatly displeased his highness, who sent a servant to pull him from the saddle and beat him; "whereupon I made a long legge, saying, Grand mercye, seignor." This timely submission seems to have secured forgiveness; and accordingly, "being horsed upon little asses," they commenced their journey towards Jerusalem. Rama he describes as so "ruinated, that he took it to be rather a heape of stones than a towne;" finding no house to receive them but such a one as they were compelled to enter by creeping on their knees. The party were exposed to the usual violence and extortion of the Arabs; "they that should have rescued us stood still, and durst doe nothing, which was to our cost." On reaching the holy city they knelt down and gave thanks; after which they were obliged to enter the gate on foot, no Christian at that period being allowed to appear within the walls mounted. The superior of the convent received the pilgrims courteously into his humble establishment, where Aldersey tells us, "they were dieted of free cost, and fared reasonable well."[70]

The beginning of the seventeenth century witnessed a higher order of travellers, who, from such a mixture of motives as might actuate either a pilgrim or an antiquary, undertook the perilous tour of the Holy Land. Among these, one of the most distinguished was George Sandys, who commenced his peregrinations in the year 1610. He was succeeded by Doubdan, Cheron, Thevenot, Gonzales, Morison, Maundrell, and Pococke, all of whom have contributed many valuable materials towards a complete knowledge of the localities, government, and actual condition of modern Palestine. In our own days the number of works on these important subjects has increased greatly, presenting to the historian of the Turkish provinces in Asia a nearer and more minute view of society than could be obtained by the earlier travellers, who, instead of yielding to the characteristic bigotry of Moslem, usually opposed to it a prejudice not less determined and uncharitable. We must not hazard a catalogue of the enterprising authors to whom the European public are indebted for the information: now enjoyed by every class of readers, in regard to the most interesting of all ancient kingdoms,—the country inhabited by Israel and Judah. In the description which we are about to give of the principal towns, the buildings, the antiquities, the manners, the opinions, and the religious forms which meet the observation of the intelligent tourist in the Land of Canaan, we shall select the most striking facts from writers of all nations and sects, making no distinction but such as shall be dictated by a respect for the learning, the candour, and the opportunities which are recorded in their several volumes.

Palestine is usually approached, either from the sea at the port of Jaffa (the ancient Joppa), or from Egypt, by way of the intervening desert. In both cases, the principal object is to obtain a safe and easy route to the capital, which, even at the present hour, cannot be reached without much danger, unless under the special protection of the native authorities. The power of Mohammed Ali, it is true, extends almost to the very walls of Gaza; and wherever his government is acknowledged no violence can be committed with impunity on European travellers. But the Syrian pashas, equally deficient in inclination and vigour, still permit the grossest extortion, and sometimes connive at the most savage atrocities. Besides, there is a class of lawless Arabs who scour the borders of the wilderness, holding at defiance all the restrictions which a civilized people impose or respect. Sir Frederick Henniker, who followed the unwonted track which leads from Mount Sinai to the southern shore of the Dead Sea, narrowly escaped with his life, after having been severely wounded and repeatedly robbed by one of the most savage hordes of Bedouins.

The history of the crusades will draw our attention to Jaffa more minutely than would be suitable at the present stage of our narrative; we shall therefore proceed on the usual route to Jerusalem, collecting as we go along such notices as may prove interesting to the reader. At a short distance from this celebrated port the pilgrim enters the plain of Sharon, celebrated in Scripture for its beautiful roses. The monk Neret informs us, that in his time it was covered with tulips, the variety of whose colours formed a lovely parterre. At present, the eye of the traveller is delighted with a profusion of roses white and red, the narcissus, the white and orange lily, the carnation, and a highly-fragrant species of everlasting-flower. This plain stretches along the coast from Gaza in the south to Mount Carmel on the north, being bounded towards the east by the hills of Judea and Samaria. The whole of it is not upon the same level; it consists of four platforms separated from each other by a wall of naked stones. The soil is composed of a very fine sand, which, though mixed with ravel, appears extremely fertile; but owing to the desolating spirit of Mohammedan despotism, nothing is seen in some of the richest fields except thistles and withered grass. Here and there, indeed, are scanty plantations of cotton, with a few patches of doura, barley, and wheat. The villages, which are commonly surrounded with olive-trees and sycamores, are for the most part in ruins; exhibiting a melancholy proof that under a bad government even the bounty of Heaven ceases to be a blessing.

The path by which the billy barrier is penetrated is difficult, and in some places dangerous. But before you reach it, turning towards the east, you perceive Rama, or Ramla, the ancient Arimathea, distinguished by its charming situation, and well known as the residence of a Christian community. The convent, it is true, had been plundered five years before it was visited by Chateaubriand; and it was not without the most urgent solicitation that the friars were permitted to repair their building, as if it were a maxim among the Turks, who by their domination continue to afflict and disgrace the finest parts of Palestine, that the progress of ruin and decay should never be arrested. Volney tells us, that when he was at Ramla a commander resided there in a serai, the walls and floors of which were on the point of tumbling down. He asked one of the inferior officers why his master did not at least pay some attention to his own apartment. The reply was, "If another shall obtain his place next year, who will repay the expense?"

In those days the aga maintained about one hundred horsemen and as many African soldiers, who were lodged in an old Christian church, the nave of which was converted into a stable, as also in an ancient khan, which was disputed with them by the scorpions. The adjacent country is planted with lofty olives, the greatest part of which are as large as the walnut-trees of France, though they are daily perishing through age and the ravages of contending factions. When a peasant is disposed to take revenge on his enemy, he goes by night and outs his trees close to the ground, when the wound, which he carefully covers from the sight, drains off the sap like an issue. Amid these plantations are seen at every step dry wells, cisterns fallen in, and immense vaulted reservoirs, which prove that in ancient times this town must have been upwards of four miles in circumference. At present it does not contain more than a hundred miserable families. The houses are only so many huts, sometimes detached, and sometimes ranged in the form of cells round a court, enclosed by a mud wall. In winter, the inhabitants and their cattle may be said to live together; the part of the building allotted to themselves being raised only two feet above that in which they lodge their beasts. The peasants are by this means kept warm without burning wood,—a species of economy indispensable in a country absolutely destitute of fuel. As to the fire necessary for culinary purposes, they make it, as was the practice in the days of Ezekiel the prophet, of dung kneaded into cakes, which they dry in the sun, exposing them to its rays on the walls of their huts. In summer, their lodging is more airy; but all their furniture consists of a single mat and a pitcher for carrying water. The immediate neighborhood of the village is sown at the proper season with grain and watermelons; all the rest is a desert, and abandoned to the Bedouin Arabs, who feed their flocks on it. There are frequent remains of towers, dungeons, and even of castles with ramparts and ditches, in some of which are a few Barbary soldiers with nothing but a shirt and a musket. These ruins, however, are more commonly inhabited by owls, jackals, and scorpions.[71]

The only remarkable antiquity at Ramla is the minaret of a decayed mosque, which, by an Arabic inscription, appears to have been built by the Sultan of Egypt. From the summit, which is very lofty, the eye follows the whole chain of mountains, beginning at Nablous, and skirting the extremity of the plain till it loses itself in the south.

A ride of two hours brings the traveller to the verge of the mountains, where the road opens through a rugged ravine, and is formed in the dry channel of a torrent. A scene of marked solitude and desolation surrounds his steps as he pursues his journey in what is so simply described in the gospel as the "hill country of Judea." He finds himself amid a labyrinth of mountains, of a conical figure, all nearly alike, and connected with each other at their base. A naked rock presents strata or beds resembling the seats of a Roman amphitheatre, or the walls which support the vineyards in the valleys of Savoy. Every recess is filled with dwarf oaks, box, and rose-laurels. From the bottom of the ravines olive-trees rear their heads, sometimes forming continuous woods on the sides of the hills. On reaching the most elevated summit of this chain, he looks down towards the south-west on the beautiful valley of Sharon, bounded by the Great Sea; before him opens the Vale of St. Jeremiah; and in the same direction, on the top of a rock, appears in the distance an ancient fortress called the Castle of the Maccabees. It is conjectured that the author of the Lamentations came into the world in the village which has retained his name amid these mountains; so much is certain, at least, that the melancholy of this desolate scene appears to pervade the compositions of the prophet of sorrows.

The unvarying manners of the East exhibit to the view of the stranger, at the present day, the same picture of rural innocence and simplicity which might have met the eye of the mother of the Redeemer when she came into this pastoral country to salute her cousin Elizabeth. Herds of goats, with pendent ears, sheep with large tails, and asses which remind you, by their beauty, of the onagra of Scripture, issue from the villages at the dawn of day. Arab women are seen bringing grapes to dry in the vineyards; others with their faces veiled, carrying pitchers of water on their heads, like the daughters of Midian.

From the Valley of Jeremiah the traveller towards Zion descends into that which bears the name of Turpentine, and is deeper and narrower than the other. Here are observed some vineyards, and a few patches of doura. He next arrives at the brook where the youthful David picked up the five smooth stones, with one of which he slew the gigantic Goliath. Having crossed the stream, he perceives the village of Heriet-Lefta on the bank of another dry channel, which resembles a dusty road. El Bir_ appears in the distance on the summit of a lofty hill on the way to Nablous, the Shechem of the Israelites and the Neapolis of the Herods. He now pursues his course through a desert, where wild fig-trees thinly scattered wave their embrowned leaves in the southern breeze. The ground, which had hitherto exhibited some verdure, becomes altogether bare; the sides of the mountains, expanding themselves, assume at once an appearance of greater grandeur and sterility. Presently all vegetation ceases; even the very mosses disappear. The confused amphitheatre of the mountains is tinged with a red and vivid colour. In this dreary region he keeps ascending a whole hour to gain an elevated hill which he sees before him; after which he proceeds during an equal space across a naked plain strewed with loose stones. All at once, at the extremity of this plain, he perceives a line of Gothic walls flanked with square towers, and the tops of a few buildings peeping above them;—he beholds Jerusalem, once the joy of the whole earth!

"I can now account," says M. Chateaubriand, "for the surprise expressed by the crusaders and pilgrims at the first sight of Jerusalem, according to the reports of historians and travellers. I can affirm that whoever has, like me, had the patience to read nearly two hundred modern accounts of the Holy Land; the Rabbinical compilations, and the passages in the ancient writers respecting Judea, still knows nothing at all about it. I paused with my eyes fixed on Jerusalem, measuring the height of its walls, reviewing at once all the recollections of history from the patriarch Abraham to Godfrey of Bouillon, reflecting on the total change accomplished to the world by the mission of the Son of Man, and in vain seeking that Temple, not one stone of which is left upon another. Were I to live a thousand years, never should I forget that desert, which yet seems to be pervaded by the greatness of Jehovah and the terrors of death."[72]

On this occasion a camp of Turkish horse, with all the accompaniments of oriental pomp, was pitched under the walls. The tents in general were covered with black lambskins, while those belonging to persons of distinction were formed of striped cloth. The horses, saddled and bridled, were fastened to stakes. There were four pieces of horse-artillery, well mounted on carriages, which appeared to be of English manufacture. These fierce soldiers are stationed near the capital, as well for the purpose of checking the savage Bedouins, who acknowledge no master, as for enforcing the tribute demanded from all strangers who enter the holy city. The recollections of the Mussulman, no less than those of the Christian, inspire a reverential feeling for the town in which David dwelt; and hence, although the European pilgrim be oppressed by the present laws of Palestine, his motives are usually respected, and even praised.

The reader who has perused with attention some of the more recent works on Palestine must have been struck with the diversity, and even the apparent contradiction, which prevail in their descriptions of Jerusalem. According to one, the magnificence of its buildings rivals the most splendid edifices of modern times, while another could perceive nothing but filth and ruins, surmounted by a gaudy mosque and a few glittering minarets. The greater number, it must be acknowledged, have drawn from their own imagination the tints in which they have been pleased to exhibit the metropolis of Judea; trusting more to the impressions conveyed by the brilliant delineations of poetry, than to a minute inspection of what they might have seen with their own eyes.

Dr. Clarke, for example, has allowed his pen to be guided by the ardent muse of Tasso, rather than by the cool observation of an unbiassed traveller. "No sensation of fatigue or heat," says he, "could counterbalance the eagerness and zeal which animated all our party in the approach to Jerusalem; every individual pressed forward, hoping first to announce the joyful intelligence of its appearance. We passed some insignificant ruins, either of ancient buildings or of modern villages; but had they been of more importance they would have excited little notice at the time, so earnestly bent was every mind towards the main object of interest and curiosity. At length, after about two hours had been passed in this state of anxiety and suspense, ascending a hill towards the south—Hagiopolis! exclaimed a Greek in the van of our cavalcade; and, instantly throwing himself from his horse, was seen upon his knees, bare-headed, facing the prospect he surveyed. Suddenly the sight burst upon us all. The effect produced was that of total silence throughout the whole company. Many of our party, by an immediate impulse, took off their hats as if entering a church, without being sensible of so doing. The Greeks and Catholics shed torrents of tears; and, presently beginning to cross themselves with unfeigned devotion, asked if they might be permitted to take off the covering from their feet, and proceed, barefooted to the Holy Sepulchre. We had not been prepared for the grandeur of the spectacle which the city alone exhibited. Instead of a wretched and ruined town, by some described as the desolated remnant of Jerusalem, we beheld, as it were, a flourishing and stately metropolis, presenting a magnificent assemblage of domes, towers, palaces, churches, and monasteries; all of which, glittering in the sun's rays, shone with inconceivable splendour. As we drew nearer, our whole attention was engrossed by its noble and interesting appearance."[73]

The effect produced upon the Christian army when they obtained the first view of the holy city is beautifully described by the Italian poet, thereby supplying, it may be suspected, the model which has been so faithfully copied by the English tourist. We avail ourselves of the translation of Hoole.

"Now from the golden East the zephyrs borne, Proclaimed with balmy gales the approach of morn; And fair Aurora decked her radiant head With roses cropp'd from Eden's flowery bed; When from the sounding camp was heard afar The noise of troops preparing for the war: To this succeed the trumpet's loud alarms, And rouse, with shriller notes, the host to arms.

"With holy zeal their swelling hearts abound, And their wing'd footsteps scarcely print the ground. When now the sun ascends the ethereal way, And strikes the dusty field with warmer ray; Behold, Jerusalem in prospect lies! Behold, Jerusalem salutes their eyes! At once a thousand tongues repeat the name, And hail Jerusalem with loud acclaim!

"At first, transported with the pleasing sight, Each Christian bosom glowed with full delight; But deep contrition soon their joy suppressed, And holy sorrow saddened every breast; Scarce dare their eyes the city walls survey, Where clothed in flesh their dear Redeemer lay, Whose sacred earth did once their Lord enclose, And when triumphant from the grave he rose!

"Each faltering tongue imperfect speech supplies; Each labouring bosom heaves with frequent sighs. Each took the example as their chieftains led, With naked feet the hallowed soil they tread. Each throws his martial ornaments aside, The crested helmets with their plumy pride; To humble thoughts their lofty hearts they bend, And down their cheeks the pious tears descend."[74]

No city assuredly presents a more striking example of the vicissitude of human affairs than the capital of the Jews. When we behold its walls levelled, its ditches filled up, and all its buildings embarrassed with ruins, we scarcely can believe we view that celebrated metropolis which formerly withstood the efforts of the most powerful empires, and for a time resisted the arms of Rome itself; though, by a whimsical change of fortune, its mouldering edifices now receive her homage and reverence. "In a word," says Volney, "we with difficulty recognize Jerusalem." Still more are we astonished at its ancient greatness, when we consider its situation, amid a rugged soil, destitute of water, and surrounded by the dry channels of torrents and steep hills. Remote from every great road, it seems not to have been calculated either for a considerable mart of commerce, or for the centre of a great consumption. It overcame, however, every obstacle, and may be adduced as a proof of what patriotism and religion may effect in the hands of a good government, or when favoured by happy circumstances from without. The same principles, in some degree modified, still preserve to this city its feeble existence. The renown of its miracles, perpetuated in the East, invites and retains a considerable number of inhabitants within its walls.[75]

As a contrast to the description of Dr. Clarke, the reader may not be displeased to peruse the notes of Sir Frederick Henniker on the same subject:—"Jerusalem is called, even by the Mohammedans, the Blessed City,—the streets of it are narrow and deserted,—the houses dirty and ragged,—the shops few and forsaken,—and throughout the whole there is not one symptom of either commerce, comfort, or happiness. Is this the city that men call the Perfection of Beauty, the Joy of the whole Earth?—The town, which appears to me not worth possession, even without the trouble of conquest, is walled entirely round, is about a mile in length and half a mile in width, so that its circumference may be estimated at three miles. In three quarters of an hour I performed the circuit. It would be difficult to conceive how it could ever have been larger than it now is; for, independent of the ravines, the four outsides of the city are marked by the brook of Siloam, by a burial-plate at either end, and by the Hill of Calvary; and the Hill of Calvary is now within the town, so that it was formerly smaller than it is at present. The best view of it is from the Mount of Olives; it commands the exact shape, and nearly every particular, namely, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Armenian Convent, the Mosque of Omar, St. Stephen's Gate, the round-topped houses, and the barren vacancies of the city. The Mosque of Omar is the St. Peter's of Turkey. The building itself has a light, pagoda appearance; the garden in which it stands occupies a considerable part of the city, and contrasted with the surrounding desert is beautiful; but it is forbidden ground, and Jew or Christian entering within its precincts must, if discovered, forfeit either his religion or his life."[76]

The observation made by Sir Frederick, in regard to the difficulty and danger of entering the Mosque of Omar, has been verified on more than one occasion. But the obstacles, apparently insurmountable, were overcome by Dr. Richardson, who, in return for the successful exercise of his professional skill, was rewarded by a clandestine visit to the shrine of the Mussulman saint. It will appear, from the few details which we are about to select from his volume, that the veil of mystery does not conceal anything really worth seeing. Like Pompey in the Temple, the Christian visiter, whose presence, in like manner, profanes the holy place, feels no other surprise than is occasioned by the fact, that men have agreed to excite curiosity by prohibiting an imaginary gratification.

"On our arrival at the door, a gentle knock brought up the sacristan, who, apprized of our intention, was within waiting to receive us. He demanded, rather sternly, who we were, and was answered by my black conductor in tones no less consequential than his own. The door immediately edged up, to prevent as much as possible the light from shining out, and we squeezed ourselves in with a gentle and noiseless step, although there was no person near who could be alarmed by the loudest sound of our bare feet upon the marble floor. The door was no sooner shut than the sacristan, taking a couple of candles in his hand, showed us all over the interior of the building, pointing, in the pride of his heart, to the elegant marble walls, the beautifully-gilded ceiling, the well where the true worshippers drink and wash,—with which we also blessed our palates and moistened our beards,—the paltry reading-desk with the ancient Koran, the handsome columns, and the green stone with the wonderful nails. As soon as we had completed this circuit, pulling a key from his girdle, he unlocked the door of the railing that separates the outer from the inner part of the mosque, which, with an elevation of two or three steps, let us into the sacred recess. Here he pointed out the patches of mosaic in the floor, the round flat stone which the Prophet carried on his arm in battle, directed us to introduce our hand through the hole in the wooden box, to feel the print of the Prophet's foot, and, through the posts of the wooden rail, to feel as well as to see the marks of the angel Gabriel's fingers (into which I carefully put my own) in the sacred stone that occupies the centre of the mosque, and from which it derives the name of Sakhara or Locked-up, and over which is suspended a fine cloth of green and red satin. It was so covered with dust that, but for the information of my guide, I should not have been able to tell the composing colours. Finally, he pointed to the door that leads into the small cavern below, of which he had not the key.

"I looked up to the interior of the dome; but, there being few lamps burning, the light was not sufficient to show me any of its beauty farther than a general glance. The columns and curiosities were counted over again and again, the arches were specially examined and enumerated, to be sure that I had not missed nor forgotten any of them. Writing would have been an ungracious behaviour, calculated to excite a thousand suspicions, that next day would have gone to swell the current of the city gossip, to the prejudice both of myself and of my friend. Having examined the adytum, we once more touched the footstep of the Prophet and the finger-prints of the angel Gabriel, and descended the steps, over which the door was immediately secured."[77]

Dr. Richardson was afterward permitted to visit this splendid mosque during the day, when he found that the dimensions of the enclosure in which it stands is about fifteen hundred feet in length, and a thousand in breadth. In the sacred retirement of this charming spot, the followers of the Prophet delight to saunter, or repose, as in the elysium of their devotions; and, arrayed in the gorgeous costume of the East, add much to the interest, the beauty, and solemn stillness of the scene, from which they seem loath to retire. The Sakhara itself is a regular octagon of about sixty feet a side, and is entered by four spacious doors, each of which is adorned with a porch projecting from the line of the building and rising considerably on the wall. All the sides of it are paneled. The centre stone of one panel is square, of another it is octagonal, and thus they alternate all round; the sides of each running down the angles like a plain pilaster, and giving an appearance as if the whole were set in a frame. The marble is white, with a considerable tinge of blue; square pieces of the latter colour being introduced in different places, so as to confer upon the exterior a very pleasing effect. The upper story is faced with small tiles painted of different colours, white, yellow, green, and blue; some of them are also covered with sentences from the Koran. At this height there are seven elegant windows on each side, except where the porches interfere, and then there are only six; the general appearance of the edifice being extremely light and beautiful, more especially from the mixture of the soft colours above and the delicate tints of the marble in the main body of the structure.

The interior fully corresponds to the magnificence and beauty just described. There are twenty-four marble columns, placed parallel to the eight sides of the building, three opposite to each side, so as still to preserve the octagonal form. Eight of them are large plain pillars belonging to no particular order of architecture, and all standing opposite to the eight entering angles of the edifice, and deeply indented on the inner side; so that they furnish an acute termination to the octagonal lines within. Between every two of the square columns there are two of a round figure, well proportioned, and resting on a base. They are from eighteen to twenty feet high, with a sort of Corinthian capital. A large square plinth of marble extends from the top of the one column to the other, and above it there is constructed a number of arches all round, which support the inner end of the roof or ceiling, the outer end resting upon the walls of the building. This is composed of wood, or plaster, highly ornamented with a species of carving, and richly gilt.

But this gorgeous temple owes both its name and existence to a large irregular mass of stone, having an oblong shape, which still occupies the centre of the mosque. It is a portion of the calcareous rock on which the city is built, and which prevails in the other mountains in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, having very much the appearance of being a part of the bed that might have been left when the foundation of the building was levelled. It rises highest towards the south-west corner, and falls abruptly at the end, where are the prints of the Prophet's foot. It is irregular on the upper surface, the same as when it was broken from the quarry. It is enclosed all round with a wooden rail about four feet high, and which in every place is nearly in contact with the stone. We have already mentioned that there is a cover or canopy of variously-coloured silk suspended over it; and nothing, we are assured can be held in higher veneration than the Hadjr-el-sakhara, the Locked-up Stone.[78]

But this fragment of limestone has more weighty pretensions to the veneration of the Moslem than the mere print of the angel Gabriel's fingers or of the Prophet's foot; for, like the Palladium of ancient Troy, it is said to have fallen from heaven on this very spot, at the time when prophecy commenced in Jerusalem. It was employed as a seat by the venerable men to whom that gift was communicated; and, as long as the spirit of vaticination continued to enlighten their minds, the slab remained steady for their accommodation. But no sooner was the power of prophecy withdrawn, and the persecuted seers compelled to flee for safety to other lands, than the stone is declared to have manifested the profoundest sympathy in their fate, and even to have resolved to accompany them in their flight. On this occasion Gabriel the archangel interposed his authority, and prevented the departure of the prophetical chair. He grasped it with his mighty hand, and nailed it to its rocky bed till the arrival of Mohammed, who, horsed on the lightning's wing, flew thither from Mecca, joined the society of seventy thousand ministering spirits, and, having offered up his devotions to the throne of God, fixed the stone immovably in this holy site, around which the Caliph Omar erected his magnificent mosque.

Within the same enclosure there is another house of prayer called El Aksa, which, though a fine building, is greatly inferior to El Sakhara. Between the two there is a beautiful fountain, which takes its name from a clump of orange-trees overshadowing its water. The mosque is composed of seven naves supported by pillars and columns, and at the head of the centre nave is a fine cupola. Two others branch off at right angles to the principal body of the edifice. Before it is a portico of seven arches in front and one in depth, supported by square pillars. Ali Bey, who in his character of Mussulman was permitted to examine the holy fane at leisure, describes the great central nave of the Aksa as about 162 feet long and 32 broad. It is supported on each side by seven arches lightly pointed, resting upon cylindrical pillars, in the form of columns, but without any architectural proportion, with foliaged capitals which do not belong to any order. The fourth pillar to the right of the entrance is octangular, and enormously thick. It is called the pillar of Sidi Omar. The walls rise 13 feet above the tops of the arches, and contain two rows of twenty-one windows each. The roof is of timber, without being vaulted. The cupola is supported by four large arches resting upon four square pillars. It is spherical, with two rows of windows, and is ornamented with arabesque paintings and gilding of exquisite beauty. Its diameter is equal to that of the central nave.

M. Burckhardt describes the Holy House in Jerusalem as a union of several buildings erected at different periods of Islamism, bearing upon them demonstrative proofs of the prevailing taste of the various ages in which they were successively constructed. It is not precisely one mosque, but a group of mosques. Its name in Arabic, El Haram, strictly signifies a temple or place consecrated by the peculiar presence of the Divinity. The profane and the infidel are forbidden to enter it. The Mussulman religion acknowledges but two temples, those, namely, of Mecca and of Jerusalem; both are called El Haram; both are equally prohibited by law to Christians, Jews, and every other person who is not a believer in the Prophet. The mosques, on the other hand, are considered merely as places of meeting for certain acts of worship, and are not held so especially consecrated as to demand the total exclusion of all who do not profess the true faith. Entrance into them is not denied to the unbeliever by any statute of the Mohammedan law; and hence it is not uncommon for Christians at Constantinople to receive from the government a written order to visit even the Mosque of St. Sophia. But the sultan himself could not grant permission to an infidel either to pass into the territory of Mecca, or to enter the Temple of Jerusalem. A firman granting such privileges would be regarded as a most horrid sacrilege: it would not be respected by the people; and the favoured object would inevitably become the victim of his own imprudent boldness.[79]

In the interior of the rock whereon the Sakhara stands there is a cave, into which Dr. Richardson could not obtain admittance. He was four times in the mosque, and went twice thither under the express assurance that its doors should be thrown open to him. But when he arrived the key was always wanting, and when the keeper of it was sought he could never be found. Ali Bey, who encountered no obstacle, reveals all the mystery of this subterranean mansion. It is a room forming an irregular square of about eighteen feet surface, and eight feet high in the middle. The roof is that of a natural vault, quite irregular. In descending the staircase, there is upon the right-hand, near the bottom, a little tablet of marble, bearing the name of El Makam Souleman, the Place of Solomon. A similar one upon the left is named El Makam Daoud, the Place of David. A cavity or niche on the south-west side of the rock is called El Makam Ibrahim, the Place of Abraham. A similar concave step at the north-west angle is described as El Makam Djibrila, the Place of Gabriel; and a sort of stone table at the north-east angle is denominated El Makam el Hoder, the Place of Elias. In the roof of the apartment, exactly in the middle, there is an aperture almost cylindrical through the whole thickness of the rock, about three feet in diameter. This is the Place of the Prophet.

M. Burckhardt observed a copy of the Koran, the leaves of which were four feet long, and more than two feet and a half broad. Tradition reports that it belonged to the Caliph Omar; but he saw a similar one in the grand mosque at Cairo, and another at Mecca, to both of which the same origin is assigned. The drawings supplied by this enterprising traveller give a very distinct notion of the extent and magnificence of the great Mussulman temple,—the most prominent object in the modern Jerusalem, and occupying the site of the still more interesting edifice erected by Solomon in the proudest period of Jewish history.

But the Christian pilgrim, who walks about the holy city "to tell her towers and mark her bulwarks," is more readily attracted by less splendid objects, the memorials of his own more humble faith. Among these the most remarkable is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is built on the lower part of the sloping hill distinguished by the name of Acre, near the place where it is joined to Mount Moriah. The Turkish government, aware of the veneration which all Christians entertain for relics in any way connected with the sufferings of the great Author of their religion, have converted this feeling into a source of revenue; every person not subject to the Sublime Porte, who visits the shrine of Jesus Christ, being compelled to pay a certain sum of money for admittance. But the church, nevertheless, is opened only on particular days of the week, and cannot be seen at any other time without an order from the two convents, the Latin and the Greek, with the sanction of the governor of the city. On such occasions the pressure at the doors is very great; the zeal of the pilgrims checked by the insolence of the Turks, who delight to insult and disappoint their anxiety, leading sometimes to scenes of tumult not quite in harmony with their pious motives. We shall give an account of the effect produced by the local and historical associations of the place on a sober spirit, in the words of a traveller to whom we have been already indebted:—