diseased were just as much _en évidence_ as now, and where He was His
poor clustered thickest. Yet who thinks of the merely squalid details of
those crowds when reading the Gospel narrative? Why, then, dwell on them
so much here to-day as we follow His footsteps on the very soil He trod?
I must say any danger of distractions I may have felt has not come from
what I have seen of the _native_ element here. Not long ago a party of
Christian (?) European trippers (I will not define their nationality)
reaching the Jews' Wailing Place at Jerusalem, charged with their
donkeys all along the line of those preoccupied figures standing praying
with their faces buried in their Testaments or pressed against the
stones of the great wall, and knocked them over.
But "Many men many minds," and as no country stirs the sincere heart as
this one does, one must accept each thoughtful traveller's account of
his experiences as being genuinely felt.
I would warn intending tourists who are earnest and sensitive about this
sacred land against forming large parties for the journey. Amongst the
group of fellow-travellers there is sure to be at least one discordant
unit. Facetious remarks, ignorant questions, thoughtless exclamations,
are harder to bear here than elsewhere. Of course, if the party forms a
religious pilgrimage these warnings do not apply; but even a pilgrimage
in company has drawbacks, if the time is limited, and many inevitable
distractions. Select as few companions as is practicable--one only, if
possible, entirely one with you in faith and feeling. Also, any one in
delicate health should not attempt the entire journey. I have seen more
than one sad procession of returning tourists escorting a litter
containing some poor collapsed lady, depending on the fore-and-aft mules
that carried her for a smooth transit back to Jerusalem and the carriage
road. Woe betide her if either of the beasts came down or even
stumbled!
When I wrote to you from Jerusalem I told you how convincing one feels
the traditional sites of Calvary and the Holy Sepulchre to be in spite
of modern scepticism. But more modern still is the verification of their
authenticity. It has lately been proved, by that "research" which we
seem to require nowadays, that they stand _outside_ the line of the city
walls of our Lord's time. The great stumbling-block to those who could
not accept the word of Tradition consisted in the idea that those sites
had always been within the city as now, for it is known that the Jewish
law forbade places of execution and of burial within the walls. To show
you how the shape of Jerusalem, marked out by its fortifications, has
changed during its long history, I may mention that, whereas the house
of the Last Supper stood within the lines in Our Lord's time, it stands
far outside the walls of to-day.
* * * * *
And now the last sunset we shall see from the Land of Promise is
steeping Lebanon in rose and violet, and the slender shadows of the
palms are lengthening across the sandy spaces of the plain. The sea has
not a sail upon it, and the sky not even a cloud "the size of a man's
hand," such as Elijah's servant saw from the top of this Carmel which
overshadows us.
Undisturbed by wind or cloud, the mind can dwell upon thoughts which the
approaching hour of leave-taking renders more poignant.
* * * * *
The afterglow is now kindling its fires, and transfiguring a scene one
had thought could not be rendered more beautiful. Of all the splendours
of Nature the afterglow is the most surprising. I think in the East it
comes more swiftly after sunset than in Italy, and it is more
astonishing in its display of light. I have often, in Egypt, tried to
paint it, but it is no easy matter, for, although the light seems so
powerful it is really too low to allow one to see one's work. The sky
becomes a low-toned grey-green-blue ... what shall I call it?--a tone of
the greatest subtlety, against which the illuminated objects on the
earth shine with the colours of flame rather than of the sun. There
follows this last effort of the dying day what I may call the last
sigh,--a few moments of delicate greys of infinite tenderness, and then
night,--absolute night. They are ringing the Angelus up at the
Carmelite Monastery on the wooded heights. Those monks live a lonely
life on the mountain whence their Order takes its name. The author of
_The Land and the Book_ speaks of this lonely monastery with its monks
"chanting Latin to nobody." Only to the great God Who chose this little
country wherein to testify His love for man; Who has trodden with weary
feet those hills we have traversed in the journey that ends to-day!
_Friday, 1st May._
At 1.30 this morning we left these blessed shores, deeply grateful for
the privilege of treading the soil of Palestine which had been accorded
us. We put off in boats for the Austrian Lloyd steamer lying in the
offing by the light of a waning moon. By 8 A.M. we anchored off Jaffa,
where we lay all day, and at sunset stood out to sea, soon losing sight
of the Holy Land in the shades of night.
_The letterpress has been printed by Messrs. R. & R. Clark,
Limited, Edinburgh._
End of Project Gutenberg's Letters from the Holy Land, by Elizabeth Butler