On the next day the assault on Mount Moriah began. The Jews fought with fierce courage, but the close lines and steady discipline of the legions prevailed. The defenders, after a bitter resistance, were forced back; the assailants furiously pursued; the inner court of the Temple was entered; in the uproar of the furious strife the orders of Titus and his officers to save the Temple were unheard; all was tumult, the roar of battle, the shedding of blood. The Jews fought with frantic obstinacy, but their undisciplined valor failed to affect the steady discipline or break the close array of the legions. Many fled in despair to the sanctuary. Here were gathered priests and prophets, who still declared the Lord of Hosts was on their side, and that He would protect His holy seat.
Even while these assurances were being given the assailants forced the gates. The eyes of the avaricious Romans rested on the golden and glittering ornaments of the Temple, and they sought more fiercely than ever to hew their way through flesh and blood to these alluring treasures. One soldier, frantic with the fury of the fight, snatched a flaming ember from some burning materials, and, lifted by a comrade, set fire to a gilded window of the Temple. Almost in an instant the flames flared upward, and the despairing Jews saw that their holy house was doomed. A great groan of agony burst from their lips. Many occupied themselves in vain efforts to quench the flames; others flung themselves in despairing rage on the Romans, heedless of life now that all they lived for was perishing.
Titus, on learning what had been done, ran in all haste to the scene, and loudly ordered the soldiers to extinguish the flames, signalling to the same effect with his hand. But his voice was drowned in the uproar and his signals were not understood, while the thirst for plunder carried the soldiers beyond all restraint. The holy place of the Temple was still intact. This Titus entered, and was so impressed with its beauty and splendor that he made a strenuous effort to save it from destruction. In vain he begged and threatened. While some of the soldiery tore with wolfish fury at its gold, others fired its gates, and soon the Holy of Holies itself was in a blaze, and the whole Temple wrapped in devouring flames.
The rapacious soldiers raged through the buildings, rending from them everything of value which the fire had left untouched. The defenders fell by thousands. Great numbers perished in the flames. A multitude of fugitives, including women and children, sought refuge in the outer cloisters. These were set on fire by the furious soldiers, and thousands were swept away by the pitiless hand of death. Word was brought to Titus that a number of priests stood on the outside wall, begging for their lives. "It is too late," he replied; "the priests ought not to survive their temple." Retiring to an outer fort, he gazed with deep regret on the devouring conflagration, saying, "The God of the Jews has fought against them: to him we owe our victory."
Thus perished the Temple of Jerusalem, a magnificent structure, for ages the pride and glory of the Jews. First erected by Solomon, eleven centuries before, it was burnt by the Babylonians five hundred years afterwards. It was rebuilt by Haggai, in the reign of King Cyrus of Persia, and had now stood more than six hundred years, enlarged and adorned from time to time. But Christ had said, "There shall not be left one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down." This prophetic utterance was now fulfilled. Thenceforward there was no Temple of the Jews.
But more fighting remained. The defenders made their way into the upper city on Mount Sion, and here held out bitterly still, rejecting the terms offered them by Titus of unconditional surrender. The place was strong, and defended by towers that were almost impregnable. Better terms might have been extorted from Titus had John and Simon, the leaders of the party of defence, been as brave as they were blatant. But after refusing surrender they lost heart, and hid themselves in subterranean vaults, leaving their deluded followers to their own devices. The end came soon. A breach was made in the walls. The legions entered, sword in hand, and with the rage of slaughter in heart. A dreadful carnage followed. Neither sex nor age was spared. According to Josephus, not less than one million one hundred thousand persons perished during this terrible siege. Of those that remained alive the most flagrant were put to death, some were reserved to grace the victor's triumph, and the others were sent to Egypt to be sold as slaves. As for the city, it had been in great part consumed by flames. Thus ended the rebellion of the Jews. To rule or ruin was the terrible motto of Rome.
THE DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII.
On the eastern margin of the Bay of Naples, where it serves as a striking background to the city of that name, stands the renowned Vesuvius, the most celebrated volcano in the world. During many centuries before the Christian era it had been a dead and silent mountain. Throughout the earlier period of Roman history the people of Campania treated it with the contempt of ignorance, planting their vineyards on its fertile slopes and building their towns and villages around its base. Under the shadow of the silent mountain armies met and fought, and its crater was made the fort and lurking-place of Spartacus and his party of gladiators. But the time was at hand in which a more terrible enemy than a band of vengeful rebels was to emerge from that threatening cavity.