FIVE miles south of Jerusalem, there are two deep ravines, about a quarter of a mile apart, running east and west, and parallel to each other. The flat-topped ridge between them, which is several hundred feet in altitude, is terraced by nature on both sides. The terraces are usually about ten feet high, and fourteen feet deep. Not content to remain in the valley, the ambitious olive climbs from terrace to terrace until its green foliage crowns the historic brow of the narrow ridge. Yes, historic is the right word. On this ridge, Boaz lived; and in yonder broad valley at its northern base, Ruth, the Moabitess, “gleaned in the wheat fields.” Here Jesse lived and David played. At the command of God, the prophet Samuel came hither and annointed the youthful shepherd lad as future king of Israel. From here he went forth to fight Fate and Fortune, Sin, Saul and Satan.

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But there is yet another reason why this place is historic, “for thus it is written by the prophet: And thou, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, art not the least among the princes of Judah; for out of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my people, Israel.” Caesar’s decree brought Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem. While they were there, God laid Jesus in Mary’s arms, and on the world’s heart. That was a memorable night. The stars dropped a bright light, and the angels a sweet song, from the skies. The valleys were flooded with light, and the hills were vocal with praise. Shepherds left their flocks and went in search of the new-born babe. The wise men of the East mounted their white camels, and were guided across the trackless sea of sand by the Star of Bethlehem. O, Bethlehem! thou art indeed the “house of bread;” and to thee the people of earth look for spiritual food. As the nations learn wisdom, they follow the example of the wise men of the East, and seek thy child.

At present, Bethlehem has about 5,000 inhabitants, most of whom are Catholics. The chief industry of the place is the carving of pearl, wood, and bitumen. These cunningly wrought relics are sold to tourists from every clime and country. All work is done by hand, and with the simplest tools; and yet it is curious to see how nearly these craftsmen have approximated perfection in their art. Carving is nothing less than an art with them. The town, antique, dilapidated and filthy, though superior to most places in Palestine, is built along on top of the ridge from east to west. The most prominent object in the city is the Church of the Nativity which occupies the eastern terminus of the ridge.

This immense structure, which was erected by Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, is built over a natural grotto in the rock in which it is generally believed Jesus was born. The building is entered through the west end. The door is small and very low; but no knee, I trow, is too stiff to bend when entering a place so dear to memory, and so closely related to human redemption. Once through the door, we straighten ourselves and walk slowly across the building. Near the east end, we come to a flight of steps which leads us down to a rock grotto, called the Cave of the Nativity. This is forty by sixteen feet, and ten feet high. The cave, no longer in its natural or rude state, is now paved and lined throughout with marble, many-colored and costly. Darkness is driven out, and the underground room is illuminated, by a score and a half of gold and silver lamps that are kept perpetually burning. There are niches, or recesses, in two of the walls of the grotto. In one, there is a silver plate bearing this inscription in Latin: “Here was born of the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ the Savior of the World.”

In the other niche, there is a golden star, which is said to mark the place above which the Star of the East rested when the wise men sought for the infant Christ. The feelings that a Christian experiences, when standing or kneeling in this sacred place, can not be translated into words. The great deep of his soul is stirred to its profoundest depths; his eyes become safety valves, through which the overflow of emotion escapes.

That Jesus was born in this cave, there is very little room to doubt. On this point, Dr. Geike expresses himself thus:

“As far back as the middle of the second century—that is to say, within less than 120 years of our Lord’s death, and within thirty or forty years after that of the last of the apostles, the beloved St. John—Justin Martyr, himself a man of Nablus, speaks of the Savior’s birth as having taken place ‘in a certain cave very close to the village;’ and this particular cave, now honored as the scene of the Savior’s birth, was already so venerated in the days of Hadrian that, to desecrate it, he caused a grove sacred to Adonis to be planted over it, so that the Syrian god might be worshipped on the very spot—a form of idolatry peculiarly abhorrent to the pure morals of Christianity. Origen, in the opening of the third century, speaks of this cave as recognised even by the heathen as the birthplace of their Lord. And to this spot came St. Jerome, making his home for thirty years in a cave close by, that he might be near the birthplace of his Master; Hadrian’s grove had been destroyed sixteen years before his birth, to make room for the very church now standing. There is no reason therefore so far as I can see, to doubt that in this cave, so hallowed by immemorial veneration, the Great Event associated with it actually took place.

“Nor is there any ground for hesitation because it is a cave that is regarded as the sacred spot. Nothing is more common in a Palestine village, built on a hill, than to use as adjuncts of the houses, the caves with which all the lime-stone rocks of the country abound; making them the store-room, perhaps, or the work-shop, or the stable, and building the dwellings before them so as to join the two. Canon Tristram speaks of a farm-house he visited, north of Acre, which was a granary and stable below and a dwelling-place above; and many stables in the neighborhood of Bethlehem are still recesses cut in the rock, or mere natural caves. In Egypt, I have often seen houses where goats, sheep, cattle, or an ass, were in one part, and the human beings in the other. Had the piety of the monks left the alleged site of the Nativity in its original state, there would have been no presumption against it from its being a cave.”

We go only two miles, after leaving Bethlehem for Hebron, before coming to the justly celebrated Pools of Solomon. These are three immense reservoirs, situated in a narrow ravine called Wady Urtas. This wady passes Bethlehem, and finally empties its waters into the Sea of Death. The first and smallest of the three pools is situated at the head of the valley. It is 380 feet long, 235 feet wide, and 25 feet deep.

The second reservoir is about one hundred and fifty feet down the valley from the first, and the third the same distance below the second. Perpendicularly, the second is twenty feet lower than the first, and the third twenty feet lower than the second. All three of these pools are walled and paved with rock, and cemented. There are broad stone steps leading down into each pool. The three pools combined would equal a lake six and one half acres broad, and thirty-eight feet deep.

These pools are supplied with water from a perennial fountain that bursts forth from the side of a hill about two hundred yards northwest of the upper pool. From this copious fountain, the water is carried to the pools by means of an aqueduct, the same aqueduct, by the way, that carries water to Bethlehem and Jerusalem. The most successful and scientific engineers of the nineteenth century could suggest but little improvement in these Pools and Aqueducts of Solomon, which were constructed between three and four thousand years ago.

The road from Jerusalem to Hebron leads directly by these pools. Having satisfied our thirst, and that of our beasts, let us press on toward Hebron, which is eighteen miles south of us.

The soil and climate of southern Palestine seem peculiarly adapted to the cultivation of grapes. Of course, the vine is everywhere to be found in this country, but between Bethlehem and Beersheba it is cultivated with more care, and yields more abundantly, than anywhere else.

Hebron, more than any other city in the Holy Land, is associated with the name of Abraham. This was the home of the Father of the Faithful. The Arabs call Hebron El Khalil—the friend—because Abraham lived here, and was the friend of God. This was one of the chief cities of Palestine during the Old Testament period; and, though we hear nothing of it in the New Testament times, it has again come into prominence. If called on to name five of the largest and most prosperous cities in the Holy Land, one could not fail to mention Hebron. It has a population of ten or twelve thousand souls, about half of whom are Hebrews. Some signs of life are here. Traffic is not dead in Hebron, as in most portions of the country. The villages south, east, and west of here do their trading in Hebron. Camels and asses are constantly coming in, laden with wine, raisins, dates, figs, wool, camels’ hair, and goat skins. Out of these skins, leather bottles and buckets are made. There is also a glass factory here which is devoted chiefly to the manufacture of colored beads, necklaces, bracelets and other articles of female attire.

Hebron, which is half a mile long, and a quarter of a mile wide, is built on the base of a mountain which rises 2,000 feet above the upper edge of the city. More interest attaches to the mosque than to any other object in the place. But Jews and Christians are alike excluded from this sacred edifice. Because of the regal diadem suspended above his brow, the Prince of Wales, was as a mark of special honor, allowed to enter this Mohammedan Holy of Holies. Dean Stanley who was with the Prince of Wales, was also permitted to tread the sacred court; and from his pen has come the most complete and accurate description we have of this mosque, which, some writers suppose, was built by Solomon.

A mile and a half from the city is Abraham’s Oak. We are told that this is the tree under which Abraham entertained the angels. This story takes our credulity; but, while we can not believe that this tree was here in Abraham’s day, we must acknowledge its age. It is venerable in appearance. It is, indeed, a patriarch of the forest.