In January 1869 Captain Warren received a letter of instructions, directing him to abandon those portions of the work which did not promise immediate results. He had discovered in the Temple inclosure the north wall of Herod's Temple, but found it impossible to follow it up. He also came upon the old wall of Ophel, a portion of the first wall of the city. On stones in this wall were found characters which the most competent judges declared to be Phœnician; and also incised marks, such as are found on the old walls of Damascus and Baalbec.
About this time Lady Burdett Coutts offered to give twenty-five thousand pounds to supply Jerusalem with water, of which there is a great scarcity during the summer season; but the proposal ended in nothing, because the Turkish authorities shrewdly concluded that they would have to pay in the long-run for keeping in good order the aqueducts she restored. The want of water is one of the principal reasons why Palestine is at the present day so sterile and unhealthy. And this want of water is (as in other districts where woods are demolished) caused in a great degree by the destruction of the forests, and especially of the groves and vineyards which grew on the terraces along the hill-sides. The system of terracing, according to Captain Warren, has the effect of retaining the rain, which falls plentifully at certain seasons of the year, in its natural reservoirs about the roots of the trees and in the hollows of the rocks, instead of allowing it to tumble in wild torrents down the bare hill-sides, and rush headlong to the sea, wasting instead of dispensing all the rich blessings which water alone can give in a dry and thirsty land.
What is wanted, Captain Warren says, to make Palestine again a rich and fruitful country, 'is a good government, a large population, an energetic people, and a sufficient capital.'
Wheat grows luxuriantly in Palestine; and the grapes on the Sandstone formation are as highly flavoured as those of Muscadel, producing in the hill country of Lebanon an excellent wine. Very fine raisins are also dried in the east of Palestine; and the whole country abounds with sheep, goats, camels, horses, and mules. The mutton of Palestine is very poor, owing to under-feeding and to the accumulation of the whole fat of the animal in its enormous tail.
Patches of tobacco are grown; and figs, oranges, lemons, and apricots flourish when they are carefully tended.
Jerusalem is not entirely without the industrial arts: there are seven soap factories; and a considerable traffic in grain, which is altogether in the hands of the Moslems. There are also five potteries, and many people work as stone-cutters and indigo-dyers.
Captain Warren's last work at Jerusalem was excavating an old wall near the large reservoir called Birket Israil. Here he came upon a slit about eighteen inches wide and four inches high, and was naturally very much excited at something so unusual. At last he was upon the eve of some great discovery. This small aperture might perhaps give access to some secret chamber, in which the Ark and utensils hidden from the plundering Romans had lain undisturbed for ages. Here, favoured by fortune, he might perchance find the famous golden vine, which once with its shining clusters twined in gorgeous splendour around the entrance to the Temple. Vain dream! That rich fruitage was gathered hundreds of years ago by the hand of some bold legionary. After infinite trouble, the slit was enlarged so as to give access to the apartment, or rather passage below; and then Captain Warren found one of the most frequent facts—'in his city of facts'—an aqueduct!
Much as he has accomplished as the agent of the Palestine Exploration Society, a great deal yet remains to be done before the Holy City of the past can be disentombed from her sepulchre of centuries. That the work interrupted for the present will be continued at some future time, no one can doubt. Forlorn wasted Jerusalem, although no longer the prize for which rival races contend, is as truly hallowed still by solemn recollections to every thoughtful heart, as she was in the days when mailed Crusader and turbaned Turk fought beneath her walls for the mastery of the Holy Sepulchre. No spot on earth thrills the stranger with such mingled emotion as fills the breast of him who, standing on the Mount of Olives, marks its ancient gnarled trees, and remembers that there, on the sward beneath their hoary boughs, has echoed and re-echoed often in the mysterious past the footfall of the Saviour of the World.