JERUSALEM, THE CITY DESOLATE.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXIX, Issue 10957, 23 December 1911, Page 8

JERUSALEM, THE CITY DESOLATE.

(By H. C. Ostrander.)

Jerusalem, gaunt and desolate, stands to-day upon Her hoary hills, enwrapped in the- sackcloth and ashes of an unutterable sorrow, the saddest city in all the world! Many other cities of Syria and Turkey present the same distressing appearance of ruin, suffering, poverty, and filth; equalling in every respect the conditions prevailing in Jerusalem; and all are equally cursed by the vile goveroraent of the-Turk; but no other city on earth is so utterly possessed' by the atmosphere of' an overwhelming and all-abiddng-sorrow, as is this ancient City of David—once so powerful and so. - glittering in its splendour as to earn the proud title of "Jerusalem the Golden."

And to-day, although so sadly fallen, from her once high estate, Jerusalem is still, to Jew and Christian alike, the most interesting city in all. the world, and so it is with the pfofouiidest feeling of awe and wondering expectation that we draw near to the hallowed spot which has been for so many centuries the lode-star of the children of every faith holding to the one God; Hebrew and Mohammedans, as well as Christians <tl every sect. The city still crowns Mt. Moriah and Mount Zion, as in the golden age of David and Solomon, and the "mountains round about Jerusalem", are the same that, nineteen hundred years ago, cast their shadows over the most awful drama of the ages; but the city itself, we must sadly confess, is not the Jerusalem of our dreams, not the Jerusalem of David and Solomon and Herod, net even that glittering Saracen City of the Caliph Omar. It is rather the Jerusalem of the Crusaders and of the Turks, spoiled by, the later dingy, semi-' civilisation of Modern Syria. The approach to the City of David is striking and impressive; and, were it not for the innovation of steel rails and telegraph polos, we might almost fancy ourselves back in the times of .the Patriarchs. "Change cars for Jerusalem!" is no longer a.n idle joke; and to-day, instead of journeying to the Holy City on camel-back over the old caravan road, we travel in a reasonably modern passenger train of European construction, drawn by an American locomotive built at the great Baldwin Locomotive Works in Philadelphia.

Through the Valley of Sharon. From ancient Joppa, where Hiram, King of Tyre, landed his cedars of Lebanon, for the building' of Solomon's Temple; and where Jonah "took ship for Tarshish," we journey up through the fertile valley of Sharon into the wild and romantic defiles of the Mountains of Judeu, passing through historic Ramleh, the Aramaithea of the Bible, and Lydda, where Peter dwelt for a season. In the beautiful valley tiic Syrian •armers are now busy "sowing for the l.j.rvest," and on every side we .nay see scores of crude wooden plows drawn by 'araels, oxen and donkeys, often hitched together in one team, breaking up the soil in the most primitive manner. The "Parable of the Bower" is repeated in the flesh a- hundred times before our very eyes ere we leave these teeming plains of Sharon; and it is remarkable how closely some of the Bible pictures ;ne reproduced in the every-day life of these twentieth century Syrians. ■» Tin: shepherds watching their flocks among the foothills, clad in the raiment of the Scriptural Patriarchs, add much to this lovely picture of pastoral life; and the long lines of camels, silhouetted against the distant horizon, form a most striking feature of the Syrian landscape. Through this living panorama of Bible pictures we pass at last up into the Mountains of Judea. through rocky defiles and lonely mountain fastnesses: grim, forbidding, desolate peaks of barren rock, lit up only by an occasional blaze of colour where wild flowers have taken root: a fitting approach to that city of Zion which is no more "Jerusalem the Golden," but Jerusalem the Desolate! A Dreary Picture. It is a dreary picture which presents itself to our view: a barren hill covered by a walled Turkish town and surrounded by tombs and scattered Syrian huts, with a few stunted olive trees clinging to the slopes. A gruesome company ot lepers crouches along the walls: ;r..t "standing afar off, calling •'unclean,' " as in Bible times, but following us and raising their hideous claws toward us with an incessant clamour for "Buehsheesh ! 0 Howadji '." The utterly hopeless"condition of those hideous, loathsome creatures, and the nameless misery expressed in their eyes as they stretch out their crippled hands appealingly for alms, fill us with an agony of pity" which is destined to haunt our memory throughout our stay in Palestine. •It is tfie greatest of all the great sorrows of this City of Sorrows. We enter the city by the Joppa gale and find ourselves within the walls of a typical Syrian town, much resembling Jaffa a,nd Beyrmit in its curious architecture and in the cosmopolitan character of it's inhabitants, but lacking the true Oriental atmosphere of Tripoli and Damascus. The streets are dirty and narrow, and most of them are arched ' overhead with solid masonry and are but little more than tunnels underneath the buildings of the city, scantily lighted by occasional openings in the roof. A Cosmopolitan Throng. These dark passages are rilled with people of every race and every nation under the sun I traders from eastern lands seeking for gain; thousands of pilgrims from far away corners of the world desiring to render homage at Christian shrines: priests of many faiths and friars of every order known to the church —Franciscans, Dominicans, Capuchins, Benedictines, Monks of St. Bernard and wliite-robed Brothers of the r','-:-.;.''iti •jrder, Greek and Rraan pri -■■ ' '"i-i of the Armenian, Marojiitc, Abysrmniap -Mid

Coptic climclies, together with, patriarchal THebrews, v.'hoso veireTa-bre beards, flowinn' robes, and turban ed heads take us back to the time of Abraham and Jacob. Ghostly women, in white flit by, displaying only two lustrous black eyes, and dainty finger-tips painted red with henna; and bronze-faced Ishmaclitcs from beyond the Jordan, bristling with antiquated firearms, and with their belts stuck full of strangely-fashioned knives and daggers. Throughout this teeming cosmopolitan throng are interspersed the villainous-look-ing' Turkish, soldiers. They are everywhere, on the city walls, in every narrow street, at every Christian, shrine, on "Zion and MS. Moriah, and at the Holy Sepulchre, and guarding with most jealous care tiie Mosque of Omar and*its companion structures now crowning the ancient foundations of Solomon's temple. A Strange Dwelling Place. Our place of abode in the Holy City is as. piotaresque and -historic a spot as one could wish. It is the ancient Hospice of St/ John, a place of refuge for pilgrims, built at the tame of the Crusades, by the German Military Order of the Knights of, St. John the Baptist. It is a strange dwelling-place, and one rich in historical associations. From the dark, vaulted pasage of the Via Dolorosa, supposed to mark the way of Christ's sad jouiroey to Calvary, we climb a flight of etone steps and knock at a huge arched doorway, above which is painted a red Greek cross. A dark-eyed little Syrian maiden swings open the heavy, iron-barred oaken door, and we enter- an open countyard filled with orange trees and Oriental shrubs and flowers. Our dining - room - and sleeping rooms all open upon this pretty court, while a second flight of stone steps leads, to the roof, from which we have a fine view of Jerusalem, with its domes and minarets and- its ancient walls, and beyond, the Valley-of Jehcsaphat, the Garden of Gethsemane and Olivet. Those, who look for anything of the ancient city of David in the Turkish "El Khuds" of to-day are doomed to dis;.ppointment, for the Jerusalem of the Scriptures lies buried under a hundred feet of 'rubbish and filth, the natural result of twelve centuries of Turkish 'occupation. The present walls surrounding Jerusalem, exceedingly picturesque in themselves, were the work of the Caliph Omar, and date from the seventh century after Christ; while all of the more prominent structures now standing in the city were the work either of the Saracens or the Crusaders. Battleground of the Ages. This wonderful city has been for ages a battle-ground and a bone of contention among the nations of the earth; Egyptians, Philistines, Babylonians, Assyrians, Persians, Romans, Saracens, Turks and Crusaders have all in turn fought over this ancient capital of the Jews. Sixteen times has this troubled city known the horrors of the desolation at the hands of besieging armies, and sixteen times in her sad history have her stricken children been put to the knife, or driven away in chains at the chariot-wheels of her conquerors. Titus destroyed the city absolutely at the end of his three years si<ge in' 71 A.D., and even the glory of the Temple was laid low. .Tossphus sti.tes that- one million .lews were siaiigiitc-ed during that terrible ."icgo, <:r died of famine; and thai the r-t:o.n» ran ankic-dosp in the blocd of the victims-. For more than fifty years.after its c< nqiiest by Titus, Jerusalem disappeared utterly from the world':-- hi.<<;;y; and indcr the" Emperor H«d:-:;;i> the site of tinTemple was ploughed over. . A tern pie of Jupiter was erect-ed there. and for iv.c hundred vears the ( hcfcn People were forbidden to enter the Holy City on paiii of death. To-day a seventeeth city crowns the summits of .Vlt. .Moriah and Mt. 7.; or.—a mediaeval, ugly Turkish Ir.wn. which gives nr; hint of the ancient. .--plenrV.ir ol the Jew.s'i capital.

Solomon's Temple. Chief among the few authentic relics of the ancient capital of Israel which still remain to us are the foundations of the great Temple of Solomon. Upon the grim, i-are brow of Mount Aloriah. Solomon built a temple of unrivalled magnificene. which was destroved by Nebuchadnezzar, rebuilt bv the Children of Israel upon their icturn from their long captivity in Babylon, destroved a second time by the Romans, rebuilt by Herod, and again levelled to the earth bv the desolating armies 01 Titus. The" foundations of this mighty temple alone remain, covering thirty-five acres of ground and occupying one-sixth o. the enthc space within the present walls of Jerusalem. Beneath the;-2 foundations mav still lie seen the wonderful "Stables of "Solomon," where also the Knvg.ils Templar kept their horses. The crowning architectural glory ot tiie Jerusalem of to-day is the exquisite octagonal mosque now occupying the middle of°the temple platform, "which was bi.ill bv the great Caliph Omar shortly after the conquest of Jerusalem by the Sarcens. I he Mosque of Omar is, without doubt, the most beautiful building in all Palestine and -the most splendid specimen of Arabian architecture that has come down to us from the hands of those great Saracen builders of the middle ages, with the possible exception of the Alhambra, at Granada. Mosque of Omar. The Alosque of Omar covers the summit of Alount Aloriah, where Abraham offered up Isaac in sacrifice. This is one of the few undisputed points of Biblical interest in Jerusalem: as to the authenticity of this holv spot Jew, Moslem and Christian alike bear witness. One of the ridiculous beliefs of the Mohammedans is that the summit of Alount Aloriah is eighteen miles nearer heaven than any other place on earth 1 . , Among the greatest sorrows of this sad city is the abject and forlorn condition of the Jewish people in this, their own ancient capital. Reduced to the condition of a pauper rabble; hated, reviled and despised by the Tuks, they still cling desperately to the skeleton of their anc I *-

:tra.l poster. , -,.«-»- 1 The Jews' Wailing Place, evening, presents one of the most' remark'' able spectacles to be witnessed in-all Jerri'' salem. Crowds of long-beardsd"fathers in Israel," robed in crimson and pnrplo, gather in front of the giant stonEs winch once formed a pari- of the foundation of. Kino- Solomon'.? stupendous edifice, "weeping "and kissing the ancient stones, wmlino- in lamentation over the destruction of "their temple, praying for the restarafccrri of the ancient glory of Jerusalem, and chanting in mournful cadence "For the Palace that lies desolate 0 Lord, we sit in-solrtude and mount! For the Temple that has fallen, 0 Lord, we- sit and mourn!'" A. short half-hour's journey tram j£be-*l>a; mascus Gate brings us to that anient Judean village towards wbrch-fite ttoognte of millions are turned every year a± Christmas-tide, "Bethlehem of Judea, where Jesus was-'born-; the "boyhood horns, of David, and the scene of Ruth's -story. Here also Baldwin the Leper, the great Knio-ht Templar, was crowned Kmg of Jerusalem by the Crusaders m the year 1100 A.D. . . The Church of the Nativity is a vast, unlovely, fortress-like structure erected by Helena, the mother of Constant™, 327 A. D. 'ln the crypt beneath the -great deserted nave is the simple'grotto or cavern of the Nativity, where, nineteen hundred vears'ago, a Child was born whose Light was destined to illuminate all the world. The sacred snot is now enveloped m the mists of incense, and a great star of silver marks the place where the Child was laid, above which sixteen beautifully-wrought lamps of silver and gold shed their perpetual radiance. . . The stone slab containing the silver' star of the Nativity has already been kissed away ein-ht times by the reverent lips or pflcrrims from the four corners of the world. Priests of the Greek, Lata, Armenian, Coptic, and Abyssinian Churches divide the care of this hallowed place anion* themselves, and a few solemn monks o-ather here to recite their evening prayers" But it is not of to-day that wa think as we wander amid the'gloom-of this solemn church, but rather of that wondrous day nineteen centuries ago, when three camels came over the deserts from afar and drew near to the City of David, and three wise men of the East bowed down before the Child and laid their gifts of gold,' frankincense, and myrrh at His feet. „ , , Even here in this peaceful place, a strong guard of Turkish, soldiers is constantly on duty to prevent the different Christian sects from fighting among themselves, and sad experience has proven that such a precaution is absolutely necessary, for, in a'terrible fight between the various Ohiistian sects which took place in the Holy Sepulchre during the Easter celebration" about seventy years ago over four hundred people were killed. The feature which impresses us most forcibly in this country around about Jerusalem and Bethlehem is tha.t nothing seems to have changed during the past four thousand years. The hills, the fields, and the pastoral scenes are the same; the shepherds, dressed in the costume of the Patriarch, tending their flocks on the lonely hillsides just as they did in the time of Abraham.

There is one view of Jerusalem thai retains much of its ancient glory and realises so. net hi sv.; - of our anticipations of the "City oi'°the Great' King," the Jerusalem

of jjuvid. of Solomon, of Herod. From the nidged brow of Mount Scopus we see in:: city much as it must have appeared v.iii-.n Christ stood and wept over it, "0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the 1 p-ophels and stonest them which are sent untr> thee; how oft-en would I have g;Uhpic:l thy children together, even as a hen g.ilhereth her chickens under her and ye would not!" The- dirt,'the dogs, and the ugly structures of the Turkish town are all lost to view, and the picture presented to out tight is one of peaceful loveliness, with nothing to mar its beauty. The wild Valley of the Brook Kedron, filled with tombs, lies at our feet with the stunted olive trees straggling up to the very walls of the ancient "city;' those hoary and picturesque old walls erected by the great Caliph Omar twelve hundred years ago. Above the walls Alt. Zion and Ait. Aloriah raised iheir historic heads,-covered with a wilderness of white, Hat-topped, and donvcd buildings, interspersed with the stuccoed minarets of the mosques and dominated by that loveliest of Aloslem 'structures, the Mosque of Omar, peerlessly beautiful with its golden mosaics gleaming in the sunlight. Shepherds watch their flocks on the sacred slopes of the. Alount of Olives, and. caravans of camels climb the distant heights. Groups of dark-eyed Syrian women—twentieth century Kebecca.s —pass us on their way up from the pool of. Sijoam -with huge jars of water balanced .upon their heads.

Far away in the. distance the glittering waters of the Dead. Sea and the silver thread of the River Jordan are seen, half hidden by the deep green of the vaHey, and all "the mountains 'round about Jerusalem," bathed in the golden sunlight and looking very sad and solemn in their solitary grandeur, still keep their vigil over Zion and Calvary.