Cities of the Dawn

As I chat with my dragoman, I ask him if he is married. His reply is that he cannot afford it; it would cost him £60 to get a wife. Perhaps it were as well that the cost of a wife in England were as much; we might have fewer marriages of the kind that tend to misery and want. The servants in the hotel seemed remarkably honest. There was a lock to my door, but I could not get it to act, so my room remained unlocked, and I missed nothing, even when one morning I left my purse on the table, containing all my money, when I went to breakfast. A breakfast consists of hot rolls, good coffee, and delicious honey. At lunch the first course consists of olives, radishes, lemons and vegetables, which are supposed to create an appetite. At dinner we have a wonderful lot of stewed flesh, and vegetables are often served up as a separate course. In the evening the hall is lighted up with many lamps, and the dealers come and turn it into a bazaar. They are not above making a considerable reduction. But really there is very little manufactured in Jerusalem – the Sacred City. Oh, how I loathe the term as I tread the church of the reputed Holy Sepulchre – its stones slippery with the tread of millions of pilgrims in all ages, its sacred shrines worn away by the kisses of the faithful. As I sit outside, a cripple comes to a pillar of the door, on which a cross has been rudely carved. He kisses that cross and stands there praying. Those poor devotees – how they kiss, and kneel, and crawl, and pray!

The most interesting man I have seen is the Rev. Ben Oliel. Born in Morocco in 1826, a man wonderfully active for his years, you would not take him to be more than sixty at the best. At Tangiers he attended the Rabbinical schools, learning Spanish at home, Arabic out of doors, and Hebrew and Chaldee at school. He speaks English with great readiness and fluency. When eighteen years of age he read the New Testament for the first time, but his father took it away from him – however, not before a spirit of inquiry was raised in his mind. In 1847, while visiting at Gibraltar, he became acquainted with a Christian friend, who gave him the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ and ‘Keith on Prophecy’ to read. From them he learnt that Jesus was the Messiah and the Saviour of men. He then resolved to come to England to prepare to preach the Gospel to the Jews. The committee of the Society for the Promotion of Christianity among the Jews accepted his services, and sent him to labour in Gibraltar and North Africa. During a visit to England in 1850 he translated the Gospel of St. Luke into Hebrew-Spanish, and also a number of tracts into Hebrew and Spanish. In 1852 he was ordained to the ministry in Orange Street Chapel, London, by twelve ministers representing Presbyterian, Congregational, Baptist, and Lutheran Churches. Shortly after he was recognised by the Presbytery of Edinburgh as a minister, and ordained a missionary of that church, and was sent to Thessalonica and Smyrna, where he established missions. Later on his old society – the British – sent him to Algiers, when he succeeded in inducing his relatives to become Christians, who are now usefully employed in Christian work. Mr. Ben Oliel has been twice married – first to a daughter of Rev. B. Lewis, a Baptist minister of London, and then, after a widowerhood of some years, to a sister of Mr. Seeley, Vicar of Clacton-on-Sea, and a cousin of Professor Seeley, author of ‘Ecce Homo.’

We next find him in Spain. In Cadiz he laboured with much success, sometimes having a congregation of 1,000 hearers. He opened schools for both sexes, where he had as many as 360 children. His success provoked the animosity and opposition of the Romish priests, who started a newspaper to put him down. Thence, for reasons perfectly satisfactory, he returned to his old scene of labour in Algeria, and commenced a very successful mission at Oran. From Oran he was sent to Rome to labour among the Jews, and then the question was put to him – would he go to Jerusalem? To this question there could be only one, and that an affirmative, reply. In the ancient city he is certainly the right man in the right place. In the first place, he can converse in Hebrew with learned Jews and Rabbis, with whom the city is full. It is a curious fact that Hebrew is fast becoming a living tongue in Jerusalem, as is evident from the fact that the only newspapers now published in Palestine are two weeklies in Jerusalem, both in the Hebrew tongue. Another advantage Mr. Ben Oliel possesses is that he can talk to the Sephardim Spanish Jews in their own dialect; and they, it seems, are the most ancient in the city and the most easy of access; and then, again, as an undenominationalist, he has provided an upper room, where he holds an English service on a Sunday, sometimes attended by as many as 100 English-speaking travellers from all parts of the world. His work is now entirely supported by friends, especially Americans, who sympathize in his aim. He has no great society at his back; he fights on his own behalf, in faith that the supplies when needed will come. In his work he is greatly aided by his devoted wife and daughter, who have established schools – one of them a sewing-class of girls, to which I paid a visit.

In his schools Mr. Oliel met with great opposition from the Jewish Rabbis. They held a conference on the subject. The outcome of their conference was seen the following Saturday. Great and solemn warning was preached in every synagogue at morning prayer to the Jews not to continue going to the Christians, and earnest pleading with them to put an end to this sin in Israel. On the doors of all synagogues, inside and outside town, were placards, some of which were handed to individuals. Here is a translation of one:

‘Inasmuch as we hear that two schools of the English have been opened, one inside and the other outside the town, and women, sons and daughters of the Israelite people are going to them, and according to the information that reaches us they are stumbling in the sin of idolatry, for above all they are required to believe in their religion, as their conditions, as it is heard; we heard and our bowels trembled, how can it be that because of straits we should forsake our faith, God forbid, and believe in the sin of idolatry, and the end will be that in a short time they will abandon the Holy Law and turn to the law of the Protestants, God forbid, whose whole interest is to tempt and push precious souls of Israel and bring them to their faith, thereupon they are told in the name of the First in Zion, and in the name of the exalted Rabbis, even all the fathers of the House of Judges, the righteous, and in the name of all the Rabbis, that from this day forward, after we have given them to understand the heavy forbidden thing they are doing – certain that Israel are holy – they should withdraw and not go to those places, neither women nor young men, nor girls or little children at all, and let them trust in the Blessed be His Name, who feeds and nourishes all, and to whom is the power and the greatness, and let them not think for a moment of benefit, whose end is bitter like poison of losing their Judaism, God forbid; and no benefit will they derive from those cents, and keep this exhortation before their eyes continually all the days; and in eight days from to-day those schools will be found empty, that no Jew’s foot shall tread in them any more, which we shall hear and rejoice, and if, which God forbid, that time arriving and any still continue to go, let them know assuredly that as they sought to separate themselves from the community of the people of Israel, we also therefore will endeavour with all our strength to separate from them. If sons are born to them, there will be no one to circumcise them, if any get married, there will be no one to give the nuptial blessings. If any die, they will not be buried with the Jews. The women will not be married to Jews. To young men no Jewesses will be given. They will be a separate people. We trust that from this day forward they will withdraw from the said schools, and despise them as unclean, and will not go near their doors; and will have trust in God, exalted be His Name, preferring to starve to death as Jews, and not arrive to this measure [of punishment]. And let them not suppose that we shall be silent, but we shall persecute them to the bitter end as far as our hands can reach.

‘Blessing to those who obey.’Seal of the Chief Rabbi.Seal of the Judges.

Considering that the Rabbis have considerable sums of money sent them from abroad to distribute among the poor every month, and that many houses are given to the worthy penniless free of rent for several years, it is no wonder that the parents of the little ones were afraid to disobey their tyrannic rulers, and kept their children away from the school.

I find the Y.M.C.A. have a branch here, founded by Mr. Hind Smith in 1890, and are doing useful work, and just outside the Jaffa Gate is a depot for the sale of Bibles. But I have been somewhat astonished at the bitter, exclusive spirit displayed in some quarters where I might have hoped for better things. It is difficult for a Jew to make a profession of Christianity. If he does so, he has to leave the place at once. The strong caste spirit among the Jews is also very great. The high caste will not associate with the men of a lower caste. But where people dare not go to the recognised agencies for Jewish conversion, many come to Mr. Oliel for a chat, and Turks as well. Such missionary work as he does seems to be of the right stamp and worthy of British support. An increasing interest is being taken in Jerusalem, though, alas! I cannot say with the Psalmist, ‘Thy servants take pleasure in her stones and favour the dust thereof.’ They are my stumbling-block by night and day.

CHAPTER XI

BETHLEHEM

The one spot in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem which one must visit is Bethlehem, the birthplace of the Christ, the music of whose voice and the lustre of whose life have brightened and bettered all the ages, dark and dreary as many of them have been, ever since. It is difficult to visit such a place alone; it is impossible to visit it in company with a garrulous and credulous crowd. I had for companions an esteemed clergyman from Leeds and an Oxford scholar, a man of infinite learning and wit. There had been rain overnight, and the dust was not so much of a nuisance as it generally is, and, besides, we had a refreshing breeze. We did the whole trip between breakfast and lunch. Starting in one of the shabby-looking carriages – the only available vehicle in these parts, which one expects to break down every minute – drawn by a couple of half-starved steeds, it rattled along over the stones at a speed for which one was scarcely prepared. On my way I learned a fact that I may not have mentioned before – viz., that at Constantinople the Sultan had given special orders for the comfort of the excursionists arriving in the Midnight Sun by placing a guard of soldiers around the ship to keep off the crowd, and by giving special orders that the party were to be everywhere received with courtesy and respect. As regards myself, seeing that not very long since the Sultan had ordered one of my books to be burnt, I must own that I felt his conduct in this matter to redound very much to his credit.

We leave our hotel by the road running to the right from outside the Jaffa Gate, and admire very much the long range of neat almshouses built for the poor Jews by the late Sir Moses Montefiore, leaving the Hill of Evil Counsel to the left, and the pretty, red-roofed, clean-looking village inhabited by the German Templars’ community to the right. Then the road passes by the Valley of Rephaim on the right, where David fought twice with the Philistines and conquered them, the signal for the battle the second time being given by a ‘going in the tops of the mulberry-trees,’ which betokened the presence of the Lord. A round stone on the left denotes the well in which, when quenching their thirst, the Wise Men from the East beheld once more reflected in its waters, to their ‘exceeding great joy,’ the star which led them in search of the new-born King of the Jews. On our left is the convent of Mar Elias, now occupied by a brotherhood belonging to the Greek Church. Far off on our right is Giloh, white and glittering in the sun, where dwelt Ahithophel, the Gilonite, David’s counsellor. It is now a village inhabited exclusively by Christians.

Again, on our right, we come to Rachel’s Tomb, at a point where the great highroad to Hebron is left for the road to Bethlehem. There is no dispute as to the identity of Rachel’s tomb; at any rate, for ages the same legend has been connected with the spot. For hundreds of years the site was marked by a pyramid of twelve stones, placed there for the twelve tribes of Israel. The present monument, built by the Moslems, is white – as every building is in this part of the world – an oblong erection, with a small dome on the top. One of my learned friends points to the whiteness of the limestone which lines all the roads, and which is utilized in all the buildings, whether private or public, as an illustration of the falsehood of the legend connected with the home of Our Lady of Loretto, which, according to monkish legend, flew all the way from Palestine to Italy, where yet it remains. The stone of that building is red, a significant proof of the falsehood of the tale. The next point of interest is David’s Well, in commemoration of the incident recorded in Samuel, when the Philistines being in possession of the town, and David in a hold in or near Cave Adullam, he said: ‘Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate! And the three mighty men brake through the host of the Philistines, and drew water out of the well of Bethlehem, which was by the gate, and took it and brought it to David; nevertheless, he would not drink thereof, but poured it out unto the Lord. And he said.. Is not this the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives?’

And now I am in Bethlehem – not a simple country village, as many imagine, but a densely-populated town, with winding, narrow ways, where men and women and children, camels, donkeys, and carriages, seem mixed up in wild disorder. On every side we are shut in with habitations – stony, bare of windows, built high up, with here and there a shop, but chiefly with a simple door on the ground-floor; and then we dash into the market-place, and apparently it is market-day, and half of the open space is filled with buyers and sellers in many-coloured garments of the East; and down on us come the guides and small pedlars, shrieking, ejaculating, spluttering in broken English, just as Byron tells us the Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold.

We enter the Church of the Nativity, regarded as the very oldest specimen of Christian architecture; and a very ugly building it is. In one of the remote quarters I came to an old stone font, bearing the inscription: ‘For the memory, repose and forgiveness of sinners, of whom the Lord knows the name.’ Here, in 1161, Baldwin was crowned King of Jerusalem. Look up at the roof as you pass along, of pure wood and lead, furnished in 1482 by Edward IV. of England and Philip of Burgundy. The guardianship of the church is divided among Greeks, Armenians, and Latins. We are supplied with tapers, and go down in the cave where the Christ was born. A little further on is the place of the manger in which He was laid. In another section of the cave, all hewn out of the solid rock, Joseph is said to have slept when he was warned by God in a dream to take Mary and her child and fly into Egypt. Again, we are shown the spot where the children massacred by King Herod were interred. Fifteen lamps perpetually illuminate the subterranean Church of the Nativity, near which is the Altar of the Adoration, which commemorates the visit of the Magi. Amidst darkness visible we make our way to the cave in which St. Jerome wrote his great work, the translation of the Hebrew Bible into the Vulgate or Latin tongue. It is a dark and dreary spot, and near by we are shown his tomb. One can scarce credit the story of his having done such work in such a corner, or believe that there he lived to reach the ripe age of ninety-two. A year in such a spot would be enough to kill an ordinary orthodox Christian in these degenerate days. I make my exit speedily into the upper air. I have seen enough for one day; no lying legend can tempt me further. The enormous pile of churches built up over the sacred sites, and inhabited by priests of rival Churches, who hate each other like poison, are too much for me.

Bethlehem is the market-place of the Dead Sea Bedouins, and also of the numerous small towns and villages in the vicinity, and has besides some nourishing manufactures of its own. Its inhabitants are almost exclusively Christian. The people are chiefly employed in the production of embroidered dresses, and in carving in a beautiful way mother-of-pearl. I hear that they are an intelligent and industrious people, and that there are plenty of schools for the children. The women are said to be fair, but I see none such. On our way back we are shown the Field of the Shepherds, sloping up a neighbouring hill. It was there the angel of the Lord appeared to them as they watched their sheep by night. We pass by also the Pools of Solomon – three reservoirs made by the great King for supplying the inhabitants of Jerusalem with water. All the country round is a scene of great activity, as is evident from the enormous amount of terraces to be seen everywhere planted with the universal olive-tree. But at this time we see nothing but stones, with here and there a few black goats climbing the mountain-sides; all life seems to have withered up under the scorching sun. The Wells of Solomon contain no water, the hills no sign of vegetation. They are dry, and so are we.

On the whole, after my visit to Bethlehem, I quite agree with an American writer – the Rev. Mr. Tompkins – in his remarks on the church built by the Empress Helena. While vast, imposing, and suggestive of past glory, it is a fitting monument of that kind of Christianity which, let us hope, is relegated to the past. No instance of an enormous expensive building could show more clearly the folly of erecting to God that which has no earthly use. Unless men can see in future ages that Christianity is for man, and not for God, I fancy that religion will perish from the earth. To-day one stands in this edifice, which in point of size is justly comparable with any church in the world, and wonders what rash folly ever possessed the Empress to waste so much money. It is so dreary, so cold, so deserted, so utterly the shell of Christianity, that Christianity seems a very farce right here where it began.

CHAPTER XII

THE JEW IN JERUSALEM

One of the most interesting evenings I spent in Jerusalem was in listening to a lecture by Dr. Wheeler, of the English Hospital in the city, who is now seeking to build a hospital for the Jews there. He is also, I believe, connected with the London Society which is seeking to bring over the Jew to the knowledge of the Messiah, a task by no means easy, as the conviction of the Jew – that the promised Messiah is yet to come – is not easily to be dispelled. I came over with a converted Jew – a clergyman in London. His parents, who were wealthy, lived in Jerusalem. In order to become a Christian he had to sacrifice all his worldly prospects, and aroused such bitter enmity on the part of his relatives that, though he had made the journey for the sake of seeing his dying mother, he almost despaired of an interview, and had to wait five days before his object was achieved.

But to return to Dr. Wheeler. He has been at work in Jerusalem eleven years, and his knowledge of the state of the Jews is profound. The Jews, he told us, in Palestine may be roughly divided into four classes: The Ashkenazim, comprising the fair-haired, sallow German Jew, the Russian, Polish, American, etc., who speak Yiddish, and enjoy the protection of the consuls of the countries to which they belong; the Sephardim, or Spanish Jews, many of whom still wear the black turban imposed on them by the mad Caliph Halim; the Gemenites, who have only recently come to the land – they are dark, and wear their hair in side-curls; and the Karaites, a sect which sprang up about the eighth century. These reject the Talmud and deny the authority of the Oral Law; they are few in number, and have but one small synagogue; the orthodox religious Jews have no religious intercourse with them, and regard them as heretics. The Ashkenazim adapt themselves to any costume. The Sephardim all wear the dignified and beautiful Oriental costume. All unite in wearing the love-locks. As to the women, they all dress in Oriental costume, and wear their heads covered. On the Sabbath they are all dressed in their best. Charms are worn on the heads and foreheads and necks of young children, and a sprig of green is worn also as a charm against the evil eye. The Rabbis generally wear long flowing robes, trimmed with fur, and also a turban.

Specially-appointed Rabbis see that the food is properly prepared, as everything must be kosha, or legally clean. Milk must not be taken before or after meat. No Christian food on any account may be consumed; even eggs cooked in Christian pots are refused. Only Jewish wine may be drunk, and if a bottle of it is only touched by a Christian it becomes unclean. The social and religious life of the Jew is identical. The birth of a son causes great rejoicing, and improves the social status of the mother. Circumcision on the eighth day, if the child is strong enough, is a holy festival. After eighteen all Jews are expected to marry. Although facilities of divorce are large, they are not often resorted to.

One is struck, said Dr. Wheeler, in living among Jews, with the fact that religion amongst them is not only a creed or an act of observance, but that it pervades every relationship and dominates every phase of life. The Sabbath is the pivot round which family life moves. It is a day of real rejoicing, accompanied by a complete suspension of work. It begins with the cup of blessing, of wine mixed with water, of which all partake. The Sabbath lamp is lit. No burial is allowed on that day. No phylacteries are worn while the Cohenites give the Aaronic blessing – ‘The Lord bless thee and keep thee,’ etc. Visiting the sick has great merit. According to the Talmud, eleven visits to the sick will release a soul from Gehenna. All are enjoined to follow funerals, and to pay honour to the remains of the dead. After death the body is allowed to remain awhile unburied. The creed of the Jew is as ancient as the beginning of history. With it are connected the triumphs and struggles and defeats of ages. What strange and opposite feelings has the name of Jew created! What appalling deeds have been perpetrated in connection with his name! The Jew is in every sense, as Dr. Wheeler eloquently told us, the marvel of history – the wonder of the ages – the anomaly of nations. So it has been for upwards of 4,000 years. He is Heaven’s great witness on earth of earth’s righteous King in heaven. Nations have risen and fallen. Mighty empires have crumbled to decay. Assyria, Greece, Carthage, where are they? Yet the Jew – scattered, despised, persecuted, and trampled under foot – has never disappeared. Nay, more, he has risen to be a light and guide to the nations; and many are the statesmen and artists and philosophers who have had Jewish blood in their veins. And yet, say certain good people, the Jews are under a curse. Well, perhaps they are – when poor. Poor people, it seems to me, are under a curse all the world over. To the Jews, Jerusalem is the one holy city, and here they come to die and be buried in its sacred soil. Wealthy Jews in all parts of the world give freely for charity and for charitable purposes, and it is this wealth that brings so many poor Jews to Jerusalem. By these benefactors Jewish children are educated gratuitously. They have three synagogues, all very ancient, and the beautiful pale-green dome of one of them is a conspicuous feature in the view of Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives. Jews, because they persecuted the Christ, are not allowed to pass before the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. They are also still rigorously excluded from the Moslem sanctuary, where it is said stood King Solomon’s Temple in all its glory, though Christians have been admitted of late years to this jealously-guarded spot, containing as it does the Dome of the Rock – a very precious spot in Moslem eyes. Alas! everywhere the Jew in Jerusalem has to come in contact with ‘the pig of a Turk,’ as he contemptuously calls him. I wonder the wealthy Jews do not buy Jerusalem or Palestine itself of the Sultan, who, however, does all he can to keep the Jews from returning there to live and die. Notwithstanding the place it fills in the world’s history, the country is a small one. As it is, the Jews in Jerusalem have the greater part of the trade of the city in their hands. They own the shops and the cabs, and their numbers increase every day, very much, as I have said, against the wishes of the Sultan himself.