o the quiet hillside
called the Mount of Olives. This is that most curious place called the
Jews' Wailing-Place.

To reach this we pass down long staircase-like streets in a poor
quarter. We see many tall and fierce-looking men, with hooked noses and
keen eyes, who wear a white cloak thrown round their heads and hanging
down on their shoulders; but there are also many other Jews from all
parts,--the Polish Jews are most conspicuous in their brilliant crimson
or purple plush gowns, with round velvet hats of the same colour edged
with fur; and then we come out into an open space with a huge wall as
high as a very high house made of enormous blocks of stone. This is said
to be part of the actual wall surrounding the Temple built by Solomon.
It is Friday afternoon and there is a great concourse of men and women
in flowing garments, bending and bowing and kneeling before the wall and
wailing out their prayers. Some crouch low, others cling to the giant
blocks and kiss the rough surface, others beat their breasts as if in
agony. Standing not far from us is a tall man who calls out some words
in a long wailing cry, immediately the crowd respond as in a Litany.
What they are crying out is something like this--

"For the sake of the Temple that is destroyed
We sit solitary and weep;
For the walls that are thrown down
We sit solitary and weep."

* * * * *

We are alone at last. All the morning it has been raining heavily, and
in our wanderings about the city we got drenched by water-spouts from
roofs that stuck out across the street, and deluged by drippings from
window-sills. In many of the narrow streets we simply had to wade, for
the water rushed down them like mountain-torrents, and then we went back
to the hotel to get warm and dry before sallying out again. Now we are
sitting on a great grey stone on the Mount of Olives, and the sun is
coming out and drying up all the dampness. We look down upon Jerusalem
as Christ looked down on it that day when He entered in a triumphal
procession and paused to weep over it. We can see the domes and the flat
roofs with the sun glinting on them and making them shine out white, and
the great wall with its turreted top running round all. It is not the
same city He saw, but it must be very like it. These buildings,
churches, and mosques were not there, of course, and there were a good
many more trees than there are now. An olive tree