notoriety in the eyes of the Roman Catholics in the
Holy Land. They persist in calling it Saint
Jeremiah, no doubt on account of the patron
of the church: identifying it, by an ancient
error, with Anatoth, the home of the prophet
of the Lamentations.
Arrived at Jerusalem, M. Saintine carefully
studied the localities, not as a passing traveller,
but as a resident historian. The valley of
Jehoshaphat received his early and reverent
attention. As you descend it, towards the south
and on the left side of the valley is the enclosure
of Gethsemane, the Garden of Olives, where
Jesus retired with his disciples on the night of
his betrayal. This square plot of ground, well
cultivated by the Fathers of the Holy Land,
contains eight olive-trees of venerable aspect.
Doubtless, they are not the same trees which
sheltered the Divine Teacher beneath their
shade, but very probably they sprang up from
the original stumps after Titus had cut down all
the trees about Jerusalem. The little iron door
which affords admission to the enclosure, opens
towards the east. Before the door, is shown a
rock on which the apostles slept; a little
further to the south, a blind alley, surrounded with
dry stone walls, marks the accursed spot where
Judas gave the treacherous kiss.
The valley is becoming a veritable cemetery
of monumental stones; the supreme ambition of
every Jew is to be buried here. If we cross the
brook Cedron where the Saviour is said to have
crossed it, brutally dragged along by the high-
priest's tools, we are shown on a rock the mark
of his knees, which he left after falling there.
In order to reach on foot the walls of the city,
the ascent is steep, and you are glad to repose
an instant, under the pretext of admiring the
Gilded Gate. This gate, with a double archway,
opened in the time of Herod on the eastern
portico of the Temple. An ancient prediction
foretels that the Christians will one day return
through it, as conquerors, to the Holy City, as
Jesus once entered thereby in triumph.
Consequently the Mussulmans, in spite of their
fanaticism, try to avert their destiny by blocking
up the gate with a wall of masonry.
Throughout almost its entire length, the eastern
wall of the city is composed of enormous blocks
five or six yards long. It is evidently a
remnant of the ancient enclosure of the Temple.
Are we to attribute the honour to Solomon?
These gigantic stones figured, no doubt, in the
edifice raised by the great king, but to deduce
the age of the construction from the antiquity
of the materials would be reasoning rather too
hastily. However that may be, this wall formed
part of the old inclosure; it is the only front
of ancient Jerusalem about which everybody is
agreed. Even if we must give up considering
it as one of Solomon's buildings, it is at least
as old as Herod, who built so much, and was so
fond of colossal proportions. The Jewish
historian testifies to the magnitude of the materials
he employed. Our Lord also alludes to them.
Proceeding towards the south and continuing
to follow the wall, you remark, close to the
battlements, the shaft of a column built in and fixed
like a piece of artillery protruding out of its
embrasure. You may suppose that it is nothing
but a whim of some barbaric mason, who stuck,
in that strange place and position, this remnant
of some antique monument by way of mockery.
You are mistaken. You have before your eyes
the first stone of an erection which is to last for
all eternity. It is the basis of the immense
bridge Sirath: that fearful passage which
Mussulman tradition throws over the abyss of
infernal punishment, and over which all men, at
the Day of Judgment, must risk their reaching
the abode of peace. This bridge, not particularly
convenient at its starting-point, will be
finer than a hair, narrower than the edge of a
Damascus sabre; and to render the ordeal more
difficult, the candidates will have their feet
loaded with heavy fetters formed by the reunion
of their sins. Many will stumble at the first
step and be precipitated into the gulf of Divine
wrath; the just, on the other hand, supported
under the armpits by two guardian angels, will
clear the terrible passage with the lightness of
a bird.
Close to the corner of the wall are some
projecting stones, in the way of a bracket. There,
will be placed the balcony in which the prophet
will hold his tribunal. When the last day for
the race of Adam arrives, when the spirit of God
has conquered the false Messiah (Antichrist or
Dedjial), he will summon before him all
generations, and every one will receive according to
his works. During that time, Mohammed will
remain at the foot of the celestial throne, to
intercede in favour of the Mussulmans.
Returning to the beaten path, we will follow
the aqueduct which carries water to the mosque.
This path indicates the ancient line of the walls
of the city under King David, at the time when
the whole of Mount Sion was comprised within
the enclosure. It is difficult to understand why
the new fortifications left it without the
enclosure. Local tradition relates that Sultan
Selim (in whose reign this work was
constructed) was so irritated by the blunder, that
he ordered the architect's head to be struck off
—an easy mode of paying him. To the left, a
little lower down, is a grotto to which St.
Peter is said to have retired, after the cock
crew thrice, to bewail his denial. The cock was
a noisy inmate of the high-priest Caïphas's
house, since replaced by a small Armenian
convent. To the right of the altar is shown a dark
retreat in which Jesus was imprisoned.
Outside the building, a little to the west, is pointed
out the spot where the holy Virgin died.
This small group of buildings forms a sort of
isolated citadel in the midst of the southern
plain of Mount Sion, and comprises two
venerated sanctuaries; one, where the Eucharist was
instituted; the other, where the Holy Spirit
descended upon the apostles. It is clearly the
most ancient church in the world, since the
communion of the holy sacrament was established
there by Our Lord himself; it is also the locality
of the first Council, where, in sublime simplicity,
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