THE HOLY CITY.
The three principal sights in Jerusalem are the Mosque of Omar, now standing on the site of Solomon’s Temple, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Muristan, which is the conglomerate remains of numerous edifices raised on the same spot in the course of ages, from Charlemagne to Saladin, but named from the madhouse built there by the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre should be visited in the sunniest part of the day, as the interior is awfully dark. It may be that it is what it assumes to be. There are people who doubt this, as they do everything; but here countless pilgrims in all ages have come to pray and weep, and have kissed every stone and shrine to be seen within the sacred precincts. I have read somewhere how a young lady from the country came to town to hear the immortal Siddons, then in the zenith of her fame. As soon as the performance began, the young lady began to weep immediately. ‘If you weep in this way,’ said a gentleman to her, ‘you will have no tears to shed when the real Siddons appears.’ The same feeling occurs to you in Jerusalem. One is never sure that the people are wailing and weeping at the right place. People seem there so much taken up with the dead Christ that they are actually in danger of forgetting the living one, who speaks to us to-day as when He lifted up His Divine voice in the crowded streets of Jerusalem or beneath the proud pillars of the Temple itself.
The question has long been discussed whether the traditional site on which stands the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is the true one. The matter turns upon the course of the city walls in the time of Christ. All are agreed that wherever the sepulchre was, it was without the gate, and not within Jerusalem. From the Gospels we learn that the tomb was rock-hewn, and that it was nigh the place of the Crucifixion. Major Conder’s excavations have almost conclusively proved that the traditional site was without the circuit of the city wall, and though the point cannot be considered as quite settled, there are very strong grounds for believing that the site was elsewhere. By the common consent of experts, the true site has been found a short distance north-east from the Damascus gate of the present city on the rocky knoll immediately above the Jeremiah Grotto of our Bible map. Indirectly, the so-called Jeremiah Grotto contributes some support to the modern identification. It is the spot where executions by stoning were carried out. The locality General Gordon brought into notice as the Holy Sepulchre seems to be quite unfounded. Major Conder points out that the tomb was no new discovery when the General was in Jerusalem—that it is probably not a Jewish tomb at all, and may be assigned to the middle ages.
It is a wonderful city, this old Jerusalem. It was here Solomon built his Temple a thousand years before Christ. This structure was subsequently destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, rebuilt by Zorobabel, and afterwards by Herod. Then came Titus and the Romans, who left the city a desolation. Of all its stateliness—the populous streets, the palaces of the kings, the fortresses of her warriors—not a ruin remains, except three tall towers and part of the western wall, which was left for the defence of the Roman camp. From a Roman point of view, Titus had well earned the honour of a triumph.
Of course in this connection one falls back on Gibbon: ‘In the midst of a rocky and barren country the walls of Jerusalem inclosed the two mountains of Sion and Acra within an oval figure of about three miles. Towards the south the upper town and the fortress of David were erected on the lofty ascent of Mount Zion; on the north side the buildings of the lower town covered the spacious summit of Mount Acra, and a part of the hill distinguished by the name of Moriah, and levelled by human industry, was crowned with the stately temple of the Jewish nation. After the final destruction of the temple by the arms of Titus and Hadrian a ploughshare was drawn over the consecrated ground, as a sign of perpetual interdiction. Sion was deserted, and the vacant space of the lower city was filled with the public and private edifices which spread themselves over the adjacent hill of Calvary. The holy places were polluted with monuments of idolatry; and, either from design or accident, a chapel was dedicated to Venus on the spot which had been sanctified by the death and resurrection of Christ. Almost 300 years after these stupendous events the profane chapel of Venus was demolished by the order of Constantine, and the removal of the earth and stone revealed the Holy Sepulchre to the eyes of mankind. A magnificent church was erected on that mystic ground by the first Christian emperor; and the effects of his pious munificence were extended to every spot which had been consecrated by the footsteps of patriarchs and prophets and the Son of God.’
Admirably Gibbon puts the case. Nevertheless, from that praiseworthy zeal on the part of Constantine, innumerable woes and awful demoralization have ensued. The history of Jerusalem has been dark and dolorous ever since. The priests reaped a golden harvest, and found a believing generation ever ready to accept even the most marvellous of their statements, the Empress Helena leading the way. The clergy made the most of these devout pilgrimages, and exhibited their powers of invention on an enormous scale. The more the pilgrims demanded, the greater the supply. The clergy fixed the scene of each memorable event. They exhibited the instruments which had been used in the passion of Christ: the nails and the lance that had pierced His hands, His feet, and His side; the crown of thorns that was planted on His head; the pillar at which he was scourged; and, above all, they showed the cross on which He had suffered—dug miraculously out of the ground! It seems to us impossible that the credulity of people could ever have been so great; but, alas! there are no miracles or traditions which devoted men and women are unable to swallow. Such miracles as seemed necessary found ample credence.
‘The custody of the true cross, which on Easter Tuesday,’ writes Gibbon, ‘was solemnly exposed to the people, was intrusted to the Bishop of Jerusalem; and he alone might gratify the curious devotion of the pilgrims by the gift of small pieces, which they enchased in gold or gems, and carried away in triumph to their respective countries. But as this gainful branch of commerce must soon have been annihilated, it was found convenient to suppose that the marvellous wood possessed a secret power of vegetation, and that its substance, though continually diminished, still remained entire and unimpaired.’ That is enough. It is unnecessary to carry our investigations any further. The only relics in which I could believe were the spurs of that grand old crusader, Godfrey of Bouillon. In that city of pretended sanctity, with its doubtful hallowed ground, it does one good to think of Campbell’s vigorous lines, never more applicable than now:
‘To incantations dost thou trust,
And pompous rites in domes august?
See, mouldering stone and metal’s rust
Belie the vaunt
That man can bless one pile of dust
With chime or chaunt.’
Be that as it may, all steps in Jerusalem are dogged with doubt. You hear a great deal more than you can believe. We tread on ruins and know what they are,—so far we can believe their testimony. Yet the city is full of surpassing interest. ‘After Rome,’ writes Dr. Russell Forbes, in his valuable little work, ‘The Holy City: its Topography, Walls, and Temples,’ ‘there is no city which appeals to the feelings like Jerusalem; the sympathy is deeper and stronger than that of Athens, which we place third on the list. As the sympathy towards the Eternal City is derived from profane history, so as it were in opposition, one’s feelings toward the Holy City owe their origin to sacred history. These two cities, sacred and profane, stand out boldly on the world’s surface like the figures in Titian’s celebrated picture—one appealing to the sun, the other to the wind. The sacred is more ancient than the profane, and the wind of controversy has swept equally over both, while the spade of modern science has in each case confounded the sceptic and established the truth of the unbroken records of the past.’ That is putting the case rather strongly. At any rate, in studying the topography of Ancient Rome the authorities are many. In Jerusalem they are few—but the Bible, Josephus and the Talmud. It is only of late that we got at the real Jerusalem. It was not till explorations, surveys, and excavations were made that anything beyond tradition, mostly false, was known of the ancient city. It is below its modern level that one has to trace the remains of the real Jerusalem. As Byron wrote of Rome, so we may say of the Holy City:
‘The Goth, the Christian, time, war, flood, and fire
Have dealt upon the seven-hilled city’s pride.
She saw her glories star by star expire,
And up the steep barbarian monarchs ride,
Where the car climbed the Capitol; far and wide,
Temple and tower went down, nor left a site:
Chaos of ruins! who shall trace the void,
O’er the dim fragments cast a lunar light,
And say, “Here was, or is,” where all is doubly night?’