Five miles south of Jerusalem, and a mile and a half from Bethlehem, in the way to Hebron, is a beautiful chapel, sacred to the memory of Rachel. This is the place where beautiful Rachel surrendered her own life for the life of her second son, whom she named Ben-oni (son of my pain). The wish she had uttered at Joseph’s birth, that God would give her another son, now, after a long period, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years, is at last realized. Rachel held Jacob’s love to the last, and even down to his old age he mourned her loss. The stone pillar which he set up at her grave is the first recorded instance of the setting up of a sepulchral monument; caves having been up to this time spoken of as the usual places of burial. The tomb of Rachel is one of the shrines which Mohammedans, Jews and Christians unite in honoring, and concerning which their traditions are identical. At the time of our visit, it happened to be the time of new moon, when the chapel was open and all lighted up with olive oil lamps, and the chapel and crypt filled with weeping women. The lamentations were real and sincere, and, had we remained very long, we should have wept out of very sympathy for the grief-stricken mourners of this princess of Israel. The thought that here this lovely woman in White Raiment sacrificed her own life for another was in itself depressing. This first mortuary monument, sacred to the memory of a great love and a great sorrow, has come down to us through more than three thousand years. One may see it “but a little to come to Ephrath.” “Tell me, ye winged winds, That round my pathway roar, Do ye not know some spot Where mortals weep no more? Some lone and pleasant dell, Some valley in the west, Where, free from toil and pain, The weary soul may rest? The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low, And sighed for pity as it answered, ‘No!’”