Gethsemane is the only place in all my travels I hesitated for a moment to visit. I had passed it many times before, but always felt unwilling to disturb its solemn repose. But, unattended by companion or guide, I determined to enter. Rapping on the low gate, the venerable Franciscan bade me welcome. His countenance was pale with watchings, and a pensive smile played over his dry and wrinkled face. Entering his solitary cell, he left me alone. Not a sound disturbed the quiet of the hour. Kneeling beneath an aged olive, I gave myself up to the undisturbed reflections and hallowed memories of the place. The story of our Lord’s agony had a reality I had never before experienced. This lonely vale, these ancient hills, these serene skies, heard the Sufferer’s cry. Here the compassionate Redeemer lay prostrate upon the ground, and, yielding to his Father’s will, accepted the cup of death. Here descended that kind angel who strengthened the fainting Savior. Here resounded the horrid tramp of that ruffian band, whose huge staves smote the earth, and whose swords glittered in the starlight. Here the betrayer’s signal-kiss polluted the cheek of innocence, and the Master’s words of surprise startled the dull ear of night. Here the impetuous spirit of Peter, gaining the mastery of his discretion, moved him to smite off the ear of Malchus; and, losing sight of the dangers that threatened him, and unmindful of the hatred of his foes, the benevolent Savior asked as an unselfish favor, “Suffer ye thus far, and he touched his ear and healed him.” Here the Shepherd was smitten and the flock scattered. Here John fled, leaving the linen cloth in the hands of the ruffians, and Jesus was led to judgment. It was passing strange to be in such a place. At every station where Israel had encamped _en route_ for the Mount of the Law; on the awful summit of Sinai; beside the cave of Machpelah and the tomb of Rachel; in the stable of the Nativity at Bethlehem; along the Jordan; on Zion, Moriah, and Olivet; and on Gibeon, where Solomon received a wise and understanding heart, I had offered my devotions to God; but Gethsemane seemed the nearest to heaven in the hour of prayer.