“ —that dark and doleful night,
When powers of earth and hell arose
Against the Son of God’s delight,
And friends betrayed Him to His foes.”

I often visited this sacred enclosure. The first morning after my arrival in Jerusalem, and the last morning of my stay there I lingered at this spot. And who could visit such a spot and not be affected to tears? Who could feel indifferent to the lone Sufferer there— the steadfast Saviour, under the infinite pressure of a world’s guilt— the blessed Lamb of God, betrayed, taken, and borne away as a criminal! O Gethsemane! How strangely wonderful are the scenes thou hast witnessed! How every tree, and stone, and turf speaks o f Jesus! The breeze in the boughs whisper of His prayers. The dew drops on the rose leaves remind us of His tears. Each crimson flower tells us of His bloody sweat. Sad and precious Gesthemane! Thou art to-day a witness for Christ. Thou, on that everlasting hill, dost seem to repeat His instructions heard by thee. Thou art ever repeating the story of His love, His tears, His conflicts, His victories. --------------
It was a beautiful day March 27th, at noon, when our agreeable party of thirteen Americans took leave of these intensely interesting localities.
We then set our faces to the north, and going down the slope we saw Jerusalem no more. Farewell, O Sacred City! Thy wonderful history extend through long centuries, is crystallized on the immortal pages of Revelation, and embraces the most exciting, touching, tender and glorious scenes. What a precious privilege to have looked upon thy walls, to have entered thy gates, to have walked among thy hallowed localities— all of which are now as familiar as childhood scenes, and to be recounted with perpetual pleasure— bright and charming pictures that memory with hold dear and cherish forever!