THE MAKING OF THE SAINTS

JERUSALEM

"The pathways of Thy land are little changed
Since Thou wast there :

THE

The busy world through other ways has ranged
And left these bare.

The rocky path still climbs the glowing steep
Of Olivet:

Though rains of two millenniums wear it deep
Men tread it yet.

Still to the gardens o'er the brook it leads
Quiet and low :

Before his sheep, the shepherd on it treads,
His voice they know.

The wild fig throws broad shadows o'er it still
As once o'er Thee:

Peasants go home at evening up the hill

To Bethany."

Author of the "Three Wakings," from "Lyra Anglicana"

HE general ground-plan of Jerusalem is probably fairly well known to all readers of Biblical history. Facing southwards, the city terminates on the crest of an extended hill, bounded on the west and south and east by valleys, and therefore having a prominent position from almost every point of view, but especially from the south.

This crest is cut irregularly into two by a central valley (the Tyropean). On the eastern side of this is Mount Moriah, where the Temple stood. On the western side Mount Zion, the site of the palace of David.

This mountain crest or ridge is of no mean height, and before the repeated destruction of the city (which has considerably altered its environment) the picture it presented was prominent and striking. It and the Mount of Olives, which is somewhat higher, are two of the very highest points in Palestine, and attain an elevation of some 2,528 feet above the level of the sea. Ages before the coming of our Lord, long before anything had been built here, we are told that Abraham coming towards it "lifted up his eyes and saw the place afar off" (Gen. xxii. 2, 4).

On the summit of this mountain crest the Holy City was afterwards built, and crowning the special heights of Zion and of Moriah in the time of our Lord would be the palace of King Herod and the Temple.

Sheer down from the Temple heights the rock fell like a solid wall to the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and in the time of our Lord, when this was untouched, any one journeying from the south or south-east towards Jerusalem would see before him the wide moat of the valley, then the bold and rugged face of the mountain wall, and then, high above this, on the left, the mass of towers and columns marking the regal and public buildings on the Hill of Zion; and on the right the massive wall of the Temple platform crowning the summit of Mount Moriah; while yet again above this he would see the upper part of the Temple itself "covered with beaten gold."

Jerusalem was a fortified city, and its walls were literally studded with towers of solid masonry. Ninety of these were in the first wall, fourteen in the second, and sixty in the third one hundred and sixty-four in all. Four of

these-named respectively Psephina, Hippicus, Phasaelis, and Mariamne-were really magnificent in their proportions, architecture, and appointments. All were built of solid blocks of white marble. Mariamne was about 77 feet high; Psephina, an octagonal tower, was 1221 feet; Hippicus, a square tower, 140 feet; and Phasaelis, more richly ornamented than the rest, formed a stately palace with battlements and pinnacles rising to a height of 167 feet.

Within these towers, on Mount Zion, stood the palace of the kings, of the most extraordinary size and splendour. The pavements were of every variety of rare marble, the chambers countless and adorned with all kinds of figures.

Between the buildings of the palace enclosure one might catch glimpses of numerous open squares of beautiful greenness carefully kept, surrounded by cloisters with columns of various orders. Around were groves and avenues with fountains and bronze statues pouring out water.

Such are the descriptions which have come down to us from those who were present at the destruction of Jerusalem. This occurred only between thirty and forty years after the crucifixion of our Lord, and there is therefore not much likelihood of any great difference between this description and the actual condition during the earthly lifetime of our Saviour.

The wall of the city went round the Temple enclosure on Mount Moriah, and at the north-west corner of this was a massive fortress or citadel built by Herod and called "Antonia."

This had every convenience of a palace or small city in itself spacious walls, courts, and baths. It appeared like a vast square tower with four other towers, one at each corner; three of these were between 80 and 90 feet

in height; that at the corner next to the Temple was above 120 feet.

The Temple enclosure itself occupied a space of about one furlong square-that is, one-eighth of a mile—on every side.

From this extensive platform there rose a series of marble terraces or esplanades, surrounded by cloisters. The first was the Court of the Gentiles, then came the Court of the Women, and then the Court of the Men of Israel. Finally, on the topmost of the marble platforms, as on an elevated stage, visible from every side except the west, there was the Altar of Burnt Offering and the Temple itself.

"Its appearance had everything that could strike the mind and astonish the sight."

"Where it was not decorated with plates of gold, it was extremely white and glistening.”

"At a distance the whole Temple looked literally like 'a mount of snow, fretted with golden pinnacles.'"

These descriptive sentences, all taken directly from authorised sources, will help to convey some idea of the wonder and magnificence of the structure which crowned the summit of Moriah, and which called forth the enthusiasm not only of the Hebrews themselves, but of all who saw it.

When the sun rose upon it over the Mount of Olives and touched the golden pinnacles and gates with living light, no eye could bear the dazzling radiance, and Josephus tells us that "the head was involuntarily lowered" as if in the immediate presence of the God of Israel.

Never before or since, in all the history of the world perhaps, did such splendid associations and site and architecture meet. Here had been the place where Abraham made ready to offer Isaac upon the altar; here

had been the site of the threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite, where the destroying angel stayed his hand and King David offered sacrifice; here was the site of the Temple of Solomon, which had been filled with the visible presence of the Lord of Hosts; and, although times of desolation had intervened, here again, in far greater beauty and splendour, was the wonderful creation of the master-builder Herod-a second Temple, surpassing anything that the world had hitherto dreamed of.

It was, then, to this Jerusalem-gorgeous with the palace of the kings upon Mount Zion-sublime and awful in its claims to Divine enshrining on Moriah—that Jesus came.

Of the tribe of Judah, of the seed of David, before Him, on the one hand, was the magnificent palace and symbol of sovereignty which was, I suppose, indubitably His by right of human inheritance-at all events, we know of no other so directly in the line of succession from King David. On the other hand there was His Father's House, hallowed by innumerable traditions-hallowed, too, by the holy lives and service of men and women who had worshipped therein, but unhallowed by sins of greed and hate, and even murder, which had been committed within the Temple precincts.

What a wonderful picture do we see of the King of the Jews, who came to His kingdom-both spiritual and temporal-at Jerusalem!

He came to His own on Mount Moriah, to that beautiful Temple-where by a striking and perhaps purposed coincidence the Holy of Holies was empty: waiting for the Word made Flesh to replace the word engraven on stone -and "His own received Him not."

On the other hand, it may almost be said that His own earthly inheritance came to Him and asked for His possession. Archelaus had been deposed and banished to