Chapter IV: His Mission to Palestine and the Jews (1)

"_Here am I; send me_"--Isaiah 6:8.

Though engaged night and day with his flock in St. Peter's, Mr. M'Cheyne ever cherished a missionary spirit. "This place hardens me for a foreign land," was his remark on one occasion. This spirit he sought to kindle yet more by reading missionary intelligence for his own use, and often to his people at his weekly prayer-meeting. The necessities both of his own parish, and of the world at large, lay heavy on his soul; and when an opportunity of evangelizing occurred, there was none in Scotland more ready to embrace it. He seemed one who stood with his loins girt: "Here am I; send me."

Another motive to incessant activity, was the decided impression on his mind that his career would be short. From the very first days of his ministry he had a strong feeling of this nature; and his friends remember how his letters used to be sealed with this seal, "_The night cometh_" At a time when he was apparently in his usual health, we were talking together on the subject of the Pre-millennial Advent. We had begun to speak of the practical influence which the belief of that doctrine might have. At length he said, "That he saw no force in the arguments generally urged against it, though he had difficulties of his own in regard to it. And perhaps (he added) it is well for you, who enjoy constant health, to be so firmly persuaded that Christ is thus to come; but my sickly frame makes me feel every day that my time may be very short."

He was therefore in some measure prepared, when, in the midst of his laborious duties, he was compelled to stand still and see what the Lord would do.

In the close of 1838, some symptoms appeared that alarmed his friends. His constitution, never robust, began to feel the effects of unremitting labor; for occasionally he would spend six hours in visiting, and then the same evening preach in some room to all the families whom he had that day visited. Very generally, too, on Sabbath, after preaching twice to his own flock, he was engaged in ministering somewhere else in the evening. But now, after any great exertion, he was attacked by violent palpitation of heart. It soon increased, affecting him in his hours of study; and at last it became almost constant. Upon this, his medical advisers insisted on a total cessation of his public work; for though as yet there was no organic change on his lungs, there was every reason to apprehend that that might be the result. Accordingly, with deep regret, he left Dundee to seek rest and change of occupation, hoping it would be only for a week or two.

A few days after leaving Dundee, he writes from Edinburgh, in reply to the anxious inquiries of his friend Mr. Grierson: "The beating of the heart is not now so constant as it was before. The pitcher draws more quietly at the cistern; so that, by the kind providence of our heavenly Father, I may be spared a little longer before the silver cord be loosed, and the golden bowl be broken."

It was found that his complaints were such as would be likely to give way under careful treatment, and a temporary cessation from all exertion. Under his father's roof, therefore, in Edinburgh, he resigned himself to the will of his Father in heaven. But deeply did he feel the trial of being laid aside from his loved employment, though he learned of Him who was meek and lowly, to make the burden light in his own way, by saying, "Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight." He wrote to Mr. Grierson again, _January 5, 1839_: "I hope this affliction will be blessed to me. I always feel much need of God's afflicting hand. In the whirl of active labor there is so little time for watching, and for bewailing, and seeking grace to oppose the sins of our ministry, that I always feel it a blessed thing when the Saviour takes me aside from the crowd, as He took the blind man out of the town, and removes the veil, and clears away obscuring mists, and by his word and Spirit leads to deeper peace and a holier walk. Ah! there is nothing like a calm look into the eternal world to teach us the emptiness of human praise, the sinfulness of self-seeking and vainglory, to teach us the preciousness of Christ, who is called 'The Tried Stone.' I have been able to be twice at college to hear a lecture from Dr. Chalmers. I have also been privileged to smooth down the dying pillow of an old school-companion, leading him to a fuller joy and peace in believing. A poor heavy-laden soul, too, from Larbert, I have had the joy of leading toward the Saviour. So that even when absent from my work, and when exiled, as it were, God allows me to do some little things for his name."

He was led to look more carefully into this trying dispensation, and began to anticipate blessed results from it to his flock. He was well aware how easily the flock begin to idolize the shepherd, and how prone the shepherd is to feel somewhat pleased with this sinful partiality of his people, and to be uplifted by his success. "I sometimes think," is his remark in a letter, dated _January 18_, "that a great blessing may come to my people in my absence. Often God does not bless us when we are in the midst of our labors, lest we shall say, 'My hand and my eloquence have done it.' He removes us into silence, and then pours 'down a blessing so that there is no room to receive it;' so that all that see it cry out, 'It is the Lord!' This was the way in the South Sea Islands. May it really be so with my dear people!" Nor did he err in this view of the dispensation. All these ends, and more also, were to be accomplished by it.

An anticipation like that which is expressed in this and other letters, especially in his Pastoral Letter of _March 20_, may justly be regarded as a proof from experience that the Lord teaches his people to expect and pray for what He means soon to work. And here the Lord accomplished his designs in the kindest of all ways; for He removed his servant for a season from the flock to which he had been so blessed, lest even his own children should begin to glory in man; but yet He took that servant to another sphere of labor in the meantime, and then, when the blessing was safely bestowed, brought him back to rejoice over it.

He was still hoping for, and submissively asking from the Lord, speedy restoration to his people in Dundee, and occasionally sending to them an epistle that breathed the true pastor's soul; when one day, as he was walking with Dr. Candlish, conversing on the Mission to Israel which had lately been resolved on, an idea seemed suddenly suggested to Dr. Candlish. He asked Mr. M'Cheyne what he would think of "being useful to the Jewish cause, during his cessation from labor, by going abroad to make personal inquiries into the state of Israel?" The idea thus suddenly suggested led to all the after results of the Mission of Inquiry. Mr. M'Cheyne found himself all at once called to carry salvation to the Jew as he had hitherto done to the Gentile, and his soul was filled with joy and wonder. His medical friends highly approved of the proposal, as being likely to conduce very much to the removal of his complaints,--the calm, steady excitement of such a journey being likely to restore the tone of his whole constitution.

Dr. Black of Aberdeen readily consented to use his remarkable talents as a scholar in this cause; and Dr. Keith intimated his expectation of soon joining the deputation. I also had been chosen to go forth on this mission of love to Israel; but some difficulties stood in the way of my leaving my charge at Collace. In these circumstances Mr. M'Cheyne wrote to me, _March 12_, from Edinburgh.

"MY DEAR _A._,--I have received so many tokens for good from God
in this matter, that it were a shame indeed if I did not trust
Him to perfect all which concerns me. I am glad you have
determined to trust all in the hands of Israel's God. I am quite
ready to go this week, or next week, but am deeply anxious to be
sure that you are sent with me. You know, dear A., I could not
labor in this cause, nor enjoy it, if you were not to be with me
in it. Would you be ready to give your Jewish lecture on the
evening of Sabbath week?... And now, pray for us, that we may be
sent of God; and, weak as we are, that we may be made
Boanerges,--that we may be blessed to win some souls, and to stir
up Christians to love Zion. Much interest is already excited, and
I do look for a blessing. Speak to your people as on the brink of
eternity.... As to books, I am quite at a loss. My Hebrew Bible,
Greek Testament, etc., and perhaps Bridge's _Christian Ministry_
for general purposes--I mean, for keeping us in mind of our
ministerial work. I do hope we shall go forth in the Spirit; and
though straitened in language, may we not be blessed, as Brainerd
was, through an interpreter? May we not be blessed also to save
some English, and to stir up missionaries? My health is only
tolerable; I would be better if we were once away. I am often so
troubled as to be made willing to go or stay, to die or to live.
Yet it is encouraging to be used in the Lord's service again, and
in so interesting a manner. What if we should see the heavenly
Jerusalem before the earthly? I am taking drawing materials, that
I may carry away remembrances of the Mount of Olives, Tabor, and
the Sea of Galilee."

The interest that this proposed journey excited in Scotland was very great. Nor was it merely the somewhat romantic interest attached to the land where the Lord had done most of his mighty works; there were also in it the deeper feelings of a scriptural persuasion that Israel was still "beloved for the fathers' sake." For some time previous, Jerusalem had come into mind, and many godly pastors were alarming as watchmen over its ruined walls (Isa. 62:6), stirring up the Lord's remembrancers. Mr. M'Cheyne had been one of these. His views of the importance of the Jews in the eye of God, and therefore of their importance as a sphere of missionary labor, were very clear and decided. He agreed in the expectation expressed in one of the Course of Lectures delivered before the deputation set out, that we might anticipate an _outpouring of the Spirit when our church should stretch out its hands to the Jew as well as to the Gentile_. In one letter he says, "To seek the lost sheep of the house of Israel is an object very near to my heart, as my people know it has ever been. Such an enterprise may probably draw down unspeakable blessings on the Church of Scotland, according to the promise, 'They shall prosper who love thee.'" In another, "I now see plainly that all our views about the Jews being the chief object of missionary exertion are plain and sober truths, according to the Scripture." Again, "I feel convinced that if we pray that the world may be converted in God's way, we will seek the good of the Jews; and the more we do so, the happier we will be in our own soul. You should always keep up a knowledge of the prophecies regarding Israel." In his preaching he not unfrequently said on this subject, "We should be like God in his peculiar affections; and the whole Bible shows that God has ever had, and still has, a peculiar love to the Jews."

The news of his proposed absence alarmed his flock at Dundee. They manifested their care for him more than ever; and not a few wrote expostulatory letters. To one of these well-meant remonstrances he replied, "I rejoice exceedingly in the interest you take in me, not so much for my own sake as that I hope it is a sign you know and love the Lord Jesus. Unless God had himself shut up the door of return to my people, and opened this new door to me, I never could have consented to go. I am not at all unwilling to spend and be spent in God's service, though I have often found that the more abundantly I love you, the less I am loved. But God has very plainly shown me that I may perform a deeply important work for his ancient people, and at the same time be in the best way of seeking a return of health."--"A minister will make a poor saviour in the day of wrath. It is not knowing a minister, or loving one, or hearing one, or having a name to live, that will save. You need to have your hand on the head of the Lamb for yourselves, Lev. 1:4. You need to have your eye on the brazen serpent for yourselves, John 3:14, 15. I fear I will need to be a swift witness against many of my people in the day of the Lord, that they looked to me, and not to Christ, when I preached to them. I always feared that some of you loved to hear the word, who do not love to do it. I always feared there were many of you who loved the Sabbath meetings, and the class, and the Thursday evenings, who yet were not careful to walk with God, to be meek, chaste, holy, loving, harmless, Christ-like, God-like. Now, God wants you to think that the only end of a gospel ministry is that you may be holy. Believe me, God himself could not make you happy except you be holy."

At this crisis in his people's history, he sought from the Lord one to supply his place,--one who would feed the flock and gather in wanderers during their own pastor's absence. The Lord granted him his desire by sending Mr. William C. Burns, son of the minister of Kilsyth. In a letter to him, dated _March 12_, the following remarkable words occur: "You are given in answer to prayer; and these gifts are, I believe, always without exception blessed. I hope you may be a thousand times more blessed among them than ever I was. Perhaps there are many souls that would never have been saved under my ministry, who may be touched under yours; and God has taken this method of bringing you into my place. _His name is Wonderful._"

This done, and being already disengaged from his flock, he set out for London to make arrangements for the rest of the deputation, who soon after were all sent forth by the brethren with many prayers. None had more prayers offered in their behalf than he, and they were not offered in vain. During all his journeyings the Lord strengthened him, and saved him out of all distresses.

It was a singular event,--often still it looks like a dream,--that four ministers should be so suddenly called away from their quiet labors in the towns and villages of Scotland, and be found in a few weeks traversing the land of Israel, with their Bibles in their hand, eye-witnesses of prophecy fulfilled, and spies of the nakedness of Israel's worship and leanness of soul. The details of that journey need not be given here. They have been already recorded in the _Narrative of a Mission of Inquiry to the Jews from the Church of Scotland in 1839_. But there are some incidents worthy to be preserved which could find a place only in such a record of private life and feelings as we are now engaged in.

When Mr. M'Cheyne was on board the vessel that carried him to London, he at once discovered an interesting young Jew, who seemed, however, unwilling to be recognized as belonging to the seed of Abraham. He made several attempts to draw this young Israelite into close conversation; and before parting, read with him the 1st Psalm in Hebrew, and pressed home the duty of meditating on the word of the Lord. In visiting Bethnal Green, he has noted down that it was very sweet to hear Jewish children sing a hymn to Jesus, the burden of which was [Hebrew: tavuach aleinu], "Slain for us!"

The awful profanation of the holy Sabbath which we witnessed on the streets of Paris, called forth the following appeal, in a letter to Mr. Macdonald of Blairgowrie. His spirit had been stirred in him when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry. "Stand in the breach, dear friend, and lift up your voice like a trumpet, lest Scotland become another France. You know how many in our own parishes trample on the holy day. They do not know how sweet it is to walk with God all that holy day. Isaiah 58:11-14 is a sweet text to preach from. Exodus 31:13 is also very precious, showing that the real sanctifying of the Sabbath is one of God's signs or marks which He puts upon his people. It is one of the letters of the new name, which no one knoweth but they who receive it."

In his brief notes during the first part of the journey, he has seldom failed to mark our seasons of united prayer, such as those in the cabin of the vessel on the passage to Genoa; for these were times of refreshing to his spirit. And his feelings, as he stood in that city and surveyed its palaces, are expressed in a few lines, which he sent homeward from the spot. "A foreign land draws us nearer God. He is the only one whom we know here. We go to Him as to one we know; all else is strange. Every step I take, and every new country I see, makes me feel more that there is nothing real, nothing true, but what is everlasting. The whole world lieth in wickedness! its judgments are fast hastening. The marble palaces, among which I have been wandering to-night, shall soon sink like a millstone in the waters of God's righteous anger; but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever."

At Valetta, in the island of Malta, he wrote: "My heart beats a little to-day, but another sail will do me good. One thing I know, that I am in the hands of my Father in heaven, who is all love to me,--not for what I am in myself, but for the beauty He sees in Immanuel."

The classic shores of Italy and Greece are invested with a peculiar interest, such as may raise deep emotions even in a sanctified soul. "We tried to recollect many of the studies of our boyhood. But what is classic learning to us now? I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. And yet these recollections tinged every object, and afforded us a most lawful pleasure."

During our voyage, it was his delight to search into the Scriptures, just as at home. And so much did he calculate on an unceasing study of the word during all our journey, that he took with him some notes I had written on each chapter of the book of Leviticus, observing it would be suitable meditation for us while busy with Jewish minds. At home and abroad he had an insatiable appetite for all the word,--both for the types of the Old Testament and the plain text of the New. On one occasion, before leaving home, in studying Numbers 4., he fixed the different duties assigned to the priests on his memory, by means of the following lines:--

The _Kohathites_ upon their shoulder bear
The holy vessels, covered with all care,
The _Gershonites_ receive an easier charge,
Two waggons full of cords and curtains large;
_Merari's_ sons four ponderous waggons load
With boards and pillars of the house of God.

He acted on the principle, that whatever God has revealed must deserve our study and prayerful investigation.

Arrived at Alexandria in Egypt, and thence proceeding onward to Palestine by the way of the desert, we found ourselves set down on a new stage of experience. Mr. M'Cheyne observed on the silence of the desert places: "It is a remarkable feeling to be quite alone in a desert place; it gives similar feelings to fasting; it brings God near. Living in tents, and moving among such lonely scenes for many days, awake many new ideas. It is a strange life we lead in the wilderness. Round and round there is a complete circle of sand and wilderness shrubs; above, a blue sky without a cloud, and a scorching sun which often made the thermometer stand at 96° in our tents. When evening came, the sun went down as it does in the ocean, and the stars came riding forth in their glory; and we used to pitch all alone, with none but our poor ignorant Bedouins, and their camels, and our all-knowing, all-loving God beside us. When morning began to dawn, our habitations were taken down. Often we have found ourselves shelterless before being fully dressed. What a type of the tent of our body! Ah! how often taken down before the soul is made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light." To Mr. Bonar of Larbert he writes: "I had no idea that travelling in the wilderness was so dreadful a thing as it is. The loneliness I often felt quite solemnized me. The burning sun overhead,--round and round a circle of barren sand, chequered only by a few prickly shrubs ('the heat of the wilderness,' of which Jeremiah speaks), no rain, not a cloud, the wells often like that of Marah, and far between. I now understand well the murmurings of Israel. I feel that our journey proved and tried my own heart very much." When we look back, and remember that he who thus stands on the sandy desert road between Egypt and Palestine, and looks on its singular scenery, is one who but lately was to be found busy night and day in dealing with the souls of men in the densely peopled streets of a town teeming with population, we are led to wonder at the ways of the Lord. But is it not a moment which may remind us that the God who sent Elijah to the brook at Cherith is the same God still? and that the wise, considerate, loving Master, who said, "Come into a desert place and rest awhile," is as loving, considerate, and wise as He was then?

At Balteen, a small village in Egypt, I well remember the indignation that fired his countenance, when our Arab attendants insisted on travelling forward on the Sabbath-day, rather than continue sitting under a few palm-trees, breathing a sultry, furnace-like atmosphere, with nothing more than just such supply of food as sufficed. He could not bear the thought of being deprived of the Sabbath rest; it was needful for our souls as much in the wilderness as in the crowded city; and if few glorify God in that desolate land, so much the more were we called on to fill these solitudes with our songs of praise. It was in this light he viewed our position; and when we had prevailed, and were seated under the palms, he was excited to deep emotion, though before quite unnerved by the heat, at the sight of a row of poor wretched Egyptians who gathered round us. "Oh that I could speak their language, and tell them of salvation!" was his impassioned wish.

An event occurred at that time in which the hand of God afterwards appeared very plain, though it then seemed very dark to us. Dr. Black fell from his camel in the midst of the sandy desert, and none of all our company could conjecture what bearing on the object of our Mission this sad occurrence could have. Is it a frown on our undertaking? or can it really be a movement of his kind, guiding hand? We often spoke of it: in our visit to Galilee we thought that we saw some purposes evolving; but there was still something unexplained. Now, however, the reason appears: even that event was of the Lord, in wise and kind design. But for that fall, our fathers in the deputation would not have sailed up the Danube on their way to Vienna, and Pesth would not have been visited. This accident, which mainly disabled Dr. Black from undertaking the after fatigue of exploring Galilee, was the occasion of directing the steps of our two fathers to that station, where a severe stroke of sickness was made the means of detaining Dr. Keith till they had learned that there was an open door among the Jews. And there, accordingly it has been that the Lord has poured down his Spirit on the Jews that have come to our missionaries so remarkably, that no Jewish Mission seems ever to have been blessed with deeper conversions. There is nothing but truth in the remark made by one of our number: "Dr. Black's fall from the camel was the first step towards Pesth." "Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving kindness of the Lord," Psalm 107:42. Indeed, whether it was that we were prepared to expect, and therefore were peculiarly ready to observe, or whether it was really the case that the watchful eye of our Lord specially guided us, certain it is that we thought we could perceive the whole course we took signally marked by Providence. There were many prayers in Scotland ascending up in our behalf, and the High Priest gave the answer by shining upon our path. Mr. M'Cheyne has stated: "For much of our safety I feel indebted to the prayers of my people, I mean the Christians among them, who do not forget us. If the veil of the world's machinery were lifted off, how much we would find is done in answer to the prayers of God's children."

Many things lost somewhat of their importance in our view, when examined amid the undistracted reflections of the long desert journey, where for many days we had quiet, like the quiet of death, around us all night long, and even during the bright day. It is the more interesting on this very account, to know his feelings there on the subject of the ministry. As his camel slowly bore him over the soft sandy soil, much did he ruminate on the happy days when he was permitted to use all his strength in preaching Jesus to dying men. "Use your health while you have it, my dear friend and brother. Do not cast away peculiar opportunities that may never come again. You know not when your last Sabbath with your people may come. Speak for eternity. Above all things, cultivate your own spirit. A word spoken by you when your conscience is clear, and your heart full of God's Spirit, is worth ten thousand words spoken in unbelief and sin. This was my great fault in the ministry. Remember it is God, and not man, that must have the glory. It is not much speaking, but much faith, that is needed. Do not forget us. Do not forget the Saturday night meeting, nor the Monday morning thanksgiving." Thus he wrote on his way to a fellow-laborer in Scotland.

On our first Sabbath in the Holy Land, our tent had been pitched in the vicinity of a colony of ants. It was in the tribe of Simeon we were encamped; it was the scenery of the Promised Land we had around us; and one of the similitudes of the blessed word was illustrated within our view. He opened his Bible at Prov. 6:6-8, and, as he read, noted--"I. _Consider her ways._ Most souls are lost for want of consideration. II. _The ant has no guide, overseer, or ruler_; no officer, no one to command or encourage her. How differently situated is the child of God! III. _Provideth her meat in the summer, etc._ Some have thought that this teaches us to heap up money; but quite the reverse. The ant lays up no store for the future. It is all for present use. She is always busy summer and winter. The lesson is one of constant diligence in the Lord's work."

Many a time in these days, when our attendants in the evening were driving in the stakes of our tent and stretching its cords, he would lie down on the ground under some tree that sheltered him from the dew. Completely exhausted by the long day's ride, he would lie almost speechless for half an hour; and then, when the palpitation of his heart had a little abated, would propose that we two should pray together. Often, too, did he say to me, when thus stretched on the ground,--not impatiently, but very earnestly,--"Shall I ever preach to my people again?" I was often reproved by his unabated attention to personal holiness; for this care was never absent from his mind, whether he was at home in his quiet chamber, or on the sea, or in the desert. Holiness in him was manifested, not by efforts to perform duty, but in a way so natural, that you recognized therein the easy outflowing of the indwelling Spirit. The fountain springing up into everlasting life (John 4:14) in his soul, welled forth its living waters alike in the familiar scenes of his native Scotland, and under the olive-tree of Palestine. Prayer and meditation on the word were never forgotten; and a peace that the world could not give kept his heart and mind. When we were detained a day at Gaza, in very tantalizing circumstances, his remark was, "_Jehovah Jireh_; we are at that mount again." It was sweet at any time to be with him, for both nature and grace in him drew the very heart; but there were moments of enjoyment in these regions of Palestine that drew every cord still closer, and created unknown sympathies. Such was that evening when we climbed Samson's Hill together. Sitting there, we read over the references to the place in the word of God; and then he took out his pencil and sketched the scene, as the sun was sinking in the west. This done, we sang some verses of a psalm, appropriate to the spot, offered up prayer, and, slowly descending, conversed of all we saw, and of all that was brought to mind by the scenery around us, till we reached our tent.

In approaching Jerusalem, we came up the Pass of Latroon. He writes: "The last day's journey to Jerusalem was the finest I ever had in all 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 in
all this world,--where Jesus lived and walked, and prayed and
died, and will come again,--I doubt not you will be anxious to
hear how we come on. I am thankful that ever He privileged us to
come to this land. I heard of my flock yesterday by a letter from
home,--the first I have received, dated 8th May.... We are living
in one of the missionaries' houses on Mount Zion. My window looks
out upon where the Temple was, the beautiful Mount of Olives
rising behind. The Lord that made heaven and earth, bless thee
out of Zion.--Yours," etc.

One evening, after our visit to Sychar, he referred to the Bible which I had dropped into Jacob's Well. We were then resting from our journey in our tents. Soon after he penned on a leaf of his note-book the following fragment:--

My own loved Bible, must I part from thee,
Companion of my toils by land and sea;
Man of my counsels, soother of distress,
Guide of my steps through this world's wilderness
In darkest nights, a lantern to my feet;
In gladsome days, as dropping honey sweet.
When first I parted from my quiet home,
At thy command, for Israel's good to roam.
Thy gentle voice said, "For Jerusalem pray,
So shall Jehovah prosper all thy way."
When through the lonely wilderness we strayed,
Sighing in vain for palm-trees' cooling shade,
Thy words of comfort hushed each rising fear,
"The shadow of thy mighty Rock is near."
And when we pitched our tents on Judah's hills,
Or thoughtful mused beside Siloa's rills;
Whene'er we climbed Mount Olivet, to gaze
Upon the sea, where stood in ancient days
The heaven-struck Sodom--
Sweet record of the past, to faith's glad eyes,
Sweet promiser of glories yet to rise![14]

[14] It is a somewhat curious occurrence, that the remnants of
this Bible were found and drawn up from the bottom of the well,
in July 1843, by Dr. Wilson and his fellow-traveller, who
employed a Samaritan from Sychar to descend and examine the well.

At the foot of Carmel, during the seven days we were in quarantine under the brow of the hill, we had time to recall many former scenes; and in these circumstances he wrote the hymn, _The Fountain of Siloam_.

Here, too, he had leisure to write home; and most graphically does he describe our journey from Alexandria onward.

CARMEL, _June 26, 1839_

"MY DEAR FATHER, MOTHER, etc.--It is a long time since I have
been able to write to you,--this being the first time since
leaving Egypt that any one has appeared to carry letters for us.
I must therefore begin by telling you that, by the good hand of
our God upon me, I am in excellent health, and have been ever
since I wrote you last. Fatigues we have had many, and much
greater than I anticipated; hardships and dangers we have also
encountered, but God has brought us all safely through, and in
fully better condition than when we began. You must not imagine
that I have altogether lost the palpitation of my heart, for it
often visits me to humble and prove me; still I believe it is a
good deal better than it was, and its visits are not nearly so
frequent. I hope very much, that in a cold bracing climate, and
with less fatigue, I may perhaps not feel it at all. I was very
thankful to receive your letter, dated 8th May,--the first since
leaving home. I was delighted to hear of your health and safety,
and of the peaceful communion at St. Peter's. The public news was
alarming and humbling.[15] I suppose I had better begin at the
beginning, and go over all our journeyings from the land of Egypt
through the howling wilderness to this sweet land of promise. I
would have written _journalwise_ (as my mother would say) from
time to time, so that I might have had an interesting budget of
news ready; but you must remember it is a more fatiguing thing to
ride twelve or fourteen hours on a camel's back, in a sandy
wilderness, than in our home excursions; and I could often do
nothing more than lie down on my rug and fall asleep.

[15] He alludes here to the decision of the House of Lords in the
Auchterarder case.

"We left Alexandria on 16th May 1839, parting from many kind
friends in that strange city. We and our baggage were mounted on
seventeen donkeys, like the sons of Jacob, when they carried corn
out of Egypt. Our saddle was our bedding, viz. a rug to lie on, a
pillow for the head, and a quilt to wrap ourselves in. We
afterwards added a straw mat to put below all. We had procured
two tents,--one large, and a smaller one which Andrew and I
occupy. The donkeys are nice nimble little animals, going about
five miles an hour; a wild Arab accompanies each donkey. We have
our two Arab servants, to whom I now introduce you,--Ibrahim, a
handsome small-made Egyptian, and Achmet the cook, a dark
good-natured fellow, with a white turban and bare black legs.
Ibrahim speaks a little English and Italian, and Achmet Italian,
in addition to their native Arabic. I soon made friends with our
Arab donkey-men, learning Arabic words and phrases; from them,
which pleased them greatly. We journeyed by the Bay of Aboukir,
close by the sea, which tempered the air of the desert. At night
we reached Rosetta, a curious half-inhabited eastern town. We saw
an eastern marriage, which highly pleased us, illustrating the
parables. It was by torch-light. We slept in the convent. 17.
Spent morning in Rosetta; gave the monk a New Testament. Saw some
of Egyptian misery in the bazaar. Saw the people praying in the
mosque, Friday being the Moslem's day of devotion. In the evening
we crossed the Nile in small boats. It is a fine river; and its
water, when filtered, is sweet and pleasant. We often thought
upon it in the desert. We slept that night on the sand in our
tents, by the sea-shore. 18.--In six hours we came to Bourlos
(you will see it in the map of the Society for Diffusing Useful
Knowledge): were ferried across. Watched the fishermen casting
their nets into the sea: hot--hot. In two hours more through a
palmy wilderness, we came to Balteen,--'the Vale of Figs,' an
Arab village of mud huts. You little know what an Arab house is.
In general, in Egypt, it is an exact square box made of mud, with
a low hole for a door. The furniture is a mat and cooking things;
an oven made of mud. 19.--Spent our Sabbath unoccupied in midst
of the village; the poor Arabs have no Sabbath. The thermometer
84° in tent. The governor called in the evening, and drank a cup
of tea with great relish. The heat we felt much all day; still it
was sweet to rest and remember you all in the wilderness. 20.--At
twelve at night, left Balteen by beautiful moonlight. Proceeding
through a pleasant African wild of palms and brushwood, we
reached the sea in two hours, and rode along, its waves washing
our feet: very sleepy. We got a rest at mid-day, if rest it could
be called, under that scorching sun, which I never will forget.
Proceeding onward, at three o'clock we left the sea-shore, and
perceived the minarets of Damietta. Before us the mirage cheated
us often when we were very thirsty. We crossed the Nile again, a
much smaller branch,--the only remaining one,--and soon found
ourselves comfortably reclining on the divan of the British
Consul, an Egyptian gentleman of some fortune and manners. He
entertained us at supper in true Egyptian style; provided a room
for us, where we spread our mats in peace. We spent the whole of
the next day here, having sent off a Bedouin to have camels ready
for us at San. The Consul entertained us in the same Egyptian
style of hospitality, and sent us away the next day on board of a
barge upon Lake Menzaleh. 22.--Even E---- would not have been
afraid to sail upon the lake. It is nowhere more than ten feet
deep, and in general only four or five. We made an awning with
our mats, and spent a very happy day. At evening we entered a
canal among immense reeds. In moonlight the scene was truly
romantic; we slept moored to the shore all night. Next morning
(23) we reached San about ten. This evening and next morning we
spent in exploring the ruins of the ancient Zoan, for this we
find is the very spot.