my life. For four hours we were ascending the rocky pass upon our
patient camels. It was like the finest of our Highland scenes, only
the trees and flowers, and the voice of the turtle, told us that it
was Immanuel's land." Riding along, he remarked, that to have seen the
plain of Judea and this mountain-pass, was enough to reward us for all
our fatigue; and then began to call up passages of the Old Testament
Scriptures which might seem to refer to such scenery as that before
us.

During our ten days at Jerusalem, there were few objects within reach
that we did not eagerly seek to visit. "We stood at the turning of the
road where Jesus came near and beheld the city and wept over it. And
if we had had more of the mind that was in Jesus, I think we should
have wept also." This was his remark in a letter homeward; and to Mr.
Bonar of Larbert he expressed his feelings in regard to the Mount of
Olives and its vicinity: "I remember the day when I saw you last, you
said that there were other discoveries to be made than those in the
physical world,--that there were sights to be seen in the spiritual
world, and depths to be penetrated of far greater importance. I have
often thought of the truth of your remark. But if there is a place on
earth where physical scenery can help us to discover divine things, I
think it is Mount Olivet. Gethsemane at your feet leads your soul to
meditate on Christ's love and determination to undergo divine wrath
for us. The cup was set before Him there, and there He said. 'Shall I
not drink it?' The spot where He wept makes you think of his divine
compassion, mingling with his human tenderness,--his awful justice,
that would not spare the city,--his superhuman love, that wept over
its coming misery! Turning the other way, and looking to the
south-east, you see Bethany, reminding you of his love to his
own,--that his name is love,--that in all our afflictions He is
afflicted,--that those who are in their graves shall one day come
forth at his command. A little farther down you see the Dead Sea,
stretching far among the mountains its still and sullen waters. This
deepens and solemnizes all, and makes you go away, saying, 'How shall
we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?'"

He wrote to another friend in Scotland, from Mount Zion, where we were
then dwelling:--

Mount Zion, _June 12, 1839._

"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Now that we are in the most wonderful spot i