mountain-land, and that, for nearly twenty miles on every side, there is nothing around it but hills. Through that extensive tract of mountain country must every enemy have approached who designed to assail Jerusalem-a country difficult to pass and easy to defend. It is only, indeed, when the words in question are taken in this more extended sense that the illustration they are meant to give of the security that encompasses the people of God comes out in all its beauty and force. It is substantially the same idea which is presented by the prophet Isaiah when he says of the man that walketh righteously, “He shall dwell on high: his place of defence shall be the munition of rocks" (Isaiah xxxiii. 16).

The morning was singularly favourable for this panoramic view. The sciroco of the preceding day was gone. The wind during the night had shifted to the north-west; and save in the valley of the Jordan, where the remains of the haze of yesterday still lingered, the atmosphere was so transparent that even the remotest parts of the landscape could be distinctly seen. Descending at length, and reluctantly, from the minaret, and assembling in the larger of the two apartments, we read together at our morning worship the latter half of Luke xix., containing the record of our Lord's public entrance into the Holy City, and of his touching lamentation over its coming ruin. The lattices of our attic chamber were now all thrown open; the one in front, looking right over upon Mount Moriah and Jerusalem, the others, on the right and left, looking, the one up, and the other down, the deep valley of Jehoshaphat. It can need no stretch of imagination to conceive the unwonted emotion which the reading of the Scripture narrative in such a position inspired. It was from these very depths beneath us the shout rose up from the rejoicing multitude of "Hosannah to the Son of David ;" and it was from the slope of this very Mount of Olives that Jesus proclaimed the approaching destruction of the city. We had but to lift our eyes for a moment from the sacred page to be reminded how truly and how terribly His prophecy had

been fulfilled:-"For the days shall come upon thee that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee, and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation."

Mourn, Salem! mourn! Low lies thine humbled state;

Thy glittering fanes are levelled with the ground;
Fallen is thy pride-thine halls are desolate!
Where erst was heard the timbrel's sprightly sound,
And frolic pleasure tripped the nightly round.
There breeds the wild fox lonely, and aghast

Stands the mute pilgrim at the void profound;
Unbroke by noise-save when the hurrying blast
Sighs, like a spirit, deep along the cheerless waste!

It is for this, proud Solyma, thy towers

Lie crumbling in the dust; for this, forlorn
Thy genius wails along thy desert bowers;
While stern destruction laughs, as if in scorn,
That thou didst dare insult God's eldest born;
And with most bitter persecuting ire

Pursued his footsteps, till the last day-dawn
Rose on his fortunes-and thou saw'st the Fire

That came to light the world, in one great flash expire!

Eighteen hundred years have passed away and Jerusalem is a desolation still; and the chosen race that dwelt in it continue to this hour without a country, a city, or a home.

Tribes of the wandering foot, and weary breast,

How shall ye flee away and be at rest;—
The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
Mankind their country, Israel but the grave!

Scarcely had we finished our early morning meal, when we were surprised and gladdened by the appearance of the Rev. Mr. Hefter, missionary of the London Jewish Society, and one of

the clergy connected with Dr. Gobat, the estimable bishop of Jerusalem. Having heard that our party were to arrive on the preceding evening, and to spend our first night on the Mount of Olives, he had ridden over in quest of us, and after looking about for our tents in vain, had at last hunted us up in the house of the mosque. He had come, not to pay us the mere passing compliment of a friendly greeting, but to place himself at our disposal as a guide to the many interesting localities around and within the city. In doing so he was conferring on us an invaluable service for a more competent or agreeable guide it was impossible to have. Speaking Arabic with the fluency of a native, familiar with Jerusalem and with the whole adjacent , country, well acquainted, both with the old, and often worthless, traditions of the place, and with the more reliable observations and discoveries of modern times, he enabled us to accomplish in a week, as much as ordinary travellers, without such leadership, could hope to achieve in a month.

Knowing that our time was limited, he set himself at once to sketch a plan of operations for the day; and no sooner was it arranged than we proceeded to carry it into effect. According to this plan we were first to visit Bethany, taking the direct road down the east side of Olivet. Then to return towards the city by the Jericho road, round the shoulder of the hill as far as to the Garden of Gethsemane. From that point to go down the valley of Jehoshaphat, to the Pool of Siloam, and onwards to Enrogel the well of the spies. Next to turn westwards up the valley of Hinnom and Gihon, as far as the Jaffa gate. And lastly, keeping still outside of the city, to skirt along the wall across the hill of Zion, the valley of the Tyropoon and Ophel, to the south end of Moriah; and then turning northwards, and advancing along the outside of the temple inclosure, to enter the city by St. Stephen's gate. This route, full of interest at every step of its progress, would show us in detail, and close at hand, many of the scenes of which already we had been enjoying a faroff view; and thus enable us to fill in some part, at least, of that