Light may ultimately be thrown upon these difficult and perplexed questions by the labours of the Palestine Exploration Fund. Hitherto, however, the obstacles thrown in their way by the Turkish government, have been almost insuperable. It is only by extraordinary energy and ingenuity that they have been able to accomplish anything in Jerusalem. The sketch on the preceding page will illustrate this. Not being allowed to excavate within a certain distance of the Temple area, a shaft was sunk through the mass of débris, to the depth of eighty feet, just outside the proscribed limit. A tunnel was then run from the bottom of the shaft to the wall of the Temple. The result was the discovery of courses of masonry of the original edifice, and upon some of the blocks of stone, mason’s marks in ancient Phœnician characters were found. It now only remains for us to notice briefly some of the memorable spots in the immediate neighbourhood of Jerusalem. These, for the most part, lie along the valley of the Kedron. First in interest is the Garden of Gethsemane. Leaving the city by St. Stephen’s Gate, a steep path leads us down into the valley and across the bed of the Kedron. Soon after beginning the ascent of Olivet, we come to an enclosure about eighty yards square. Knocking at a low door, we are admitted by an aged monk, the guardian of the place, and find ourselves in a trim garden. The flower-beds are neatly kept and fenced with sticks. A number of olive-trees stand among them, hollow, gnarled, and, apparently, extremely old. They yet bear a few berries, which are carefully gathered and given to pilgrims, for which, of course, backshish is expected in return. Old as the trees are it cannot be supposed that they have stood here for eighteen centuries, though it is quite credible that they may have sprung as suckers from the roots of yet older trees. The passion for localising all the incidents of the narrative is not absent here. We are shown the bank upon which the disciples slept, the grotto—all mediæval legends select a grotto—where, as a Latin inscription informs us, “the sweat like blood ran down upon the ground,” and the place where Judas betrayed his Master with a kiss. The _Custode_ however, with a courtesy and consideration very rare in his class, does not pester us with talk, but, retiring to a distance, leaves us to our meditation.[162] On this spot then, or near it, happened the most solemn and pathetic event in the life, even of “the man of sorrows.” Under the shade of these grey olives, he endured his bitter and heart-breaking agony; along yonder path, lighted by the full passover moon, “with lanterns, and torches, and weapons,” came the betrayer, leading “a band of men and officers;”[163] here, deserted and forsaken by all, He meekly surrendered Himself to his murderers, and was led away to be condemned and crucified. Callous must that heart be which, on such a spot as this, does not breathe the prayer: “By Thine