"Do you really want mercy?—would you be glad to get it?"

66

Ay, that I would! for if what you say is true, nothing but mercy will do for me. 0, my poor arm! if that doctor had come, it might have been all right now!"

O,

"Think not of the doctor, or your arm, now, my poor old man; think of your soul,of death,-of what comes after death! if you wish for mercy,-for salvation, pray for forgiveness to that Saviour whose name is Jesus, who died upon the cross for you,— who is not willing that you should perish,who, even now, will save you if you go to Him,-who bore the punishment that you and I deserve,—and who has said, 'Him that | cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.' You are a vile, guilty sinner, but the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.' O go to him now, and seek for the pardon you want so much. Shall I pray with you

"Yes, Sir, do; and thank you." The prayer was a powerful one,-powerful in its simplicity; a solemn earnestness, too, that mingled with what amounted, at times, to an almost impassioned pleading with God in the poor man's behalf, almost overcame Henry. He had never heard anything like it before, and it penetrated to his soul. The prayer was ended. Henfy for a moment thought that the poor man's eye was raised upwards, and that his lips moved.

"Lord have mercy upon me!" he said, as Edward rose from his knees, “and God bless you."

Edward bent down, and said something in so low a voice, as to be inaudible to Henry. The old man exclaimed, "I will, I will.”

That night he died. And three days afterwards, as Edward Stanhope stood beside the grave into which had just been lowered the coffin that contained his poor remains, he laid a strong emphasis on one word that occurred in the Burial Service:-"As our hope is, this our brother doth."

Leaving the court, they now proceeded along the narrow by-lane into which they had entered on leaving the main street. Neither of them spoke until Edward, knocking gently at the door of a cleanly little dwelling, said to Henry

differ much one day from another. Come in, Sir, and I'll tell her you're here; she'll be glad to see you."

“Tell her,” said Edward, "that I have a friend with me to-day, and ask her if I may bring him in."

A message was returned, that Sally would be glad to receive both the minister and his friend.

They entered a small bed-room, beautifully neat and clean, and comfortably though very plainly furnished. Sally was reclining upon the bed, her back supported by a large pillow. She appeared to be about forty years of age, and extremely delicate. It was not until Henry had been in the room two or three minutes, that he discovered that she was quite blind.

"It is long since you've been here, Sir,” she said: "I began to wonder a little, when yesterday passed over and you did not come.”

"I have been very busy, Sally; there are many on my sick-list, and some that require more attention than you do.”

"Ah, Sir," she replied, I often think I want more attention than others, for I am so changeable; sometimes I feel a little warmth and love to my dear Saviour, but then again, I am often so cold, and dead, and lifeless, and my poor heart feels like a stone."

"And must not every child of God say the same thing, Sally? I believe there is no one, no matter how far advanced in the Christian life, who does not at times experience these painful changes."

66 Perhaps so, Sir: I have so often to make use of that prayer, 'My soul cleaveth unto the dust, quicken thou me according unto thy word.""

66

Sally, I have a friend here to-day, and I want you, in as few words as possible, (that you may not tire yourself,) to tell him something of your past life."

She smiled, and turning her sightless eyeballs in the direction of the part of the room where Henry was standing, thus briefly gave him the particulars of her life.

"I was brought up, Sir, by kind parents, who endeavoured to train me up in the way I should go; and when I was eight years old I was sent to the Sunday-school.

The door was quickly opened by a neat looking elderly woman, who smiled and courtesied on seeing "the minister."

"How is Sally to-day?"

Judge, shall give me at that day.' And," she added, turning to Edward Stanhope with a joyful smile," not to me only, but to all them also that love His appearing."

She ceased: and, after a pause of a few moments' duration, Edward repeated in a slow and solemn voice,

"And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said unto me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."

THE FIELD OF BLOOD.*

Ar the foot of the eastern elevation of the Mountain of Offence, where it rises from the valley, is pointed out the Aceldama, or Field of Blood; said to be that purchased by the Jewish priests with the thirty pieces of silver that Judas had received for betraying his Master, but which he afterwards returned in remorse. The transaction is thus recorded by the Evangelist :-" Then Judas which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that. And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood. And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury

*From Dr. Wilde's "Narrative of a Voyage to Madeira, Teneriffe, and along the Shores of the

Mediterranean," a work published so long since as 1844, but which still supplies the best account of the spot that we possess, including, as it does, his peculiar discoveries of "whited sepulchres," and of the skulls of manifest foreigners in the field which was bought "to bury strangers in." The original work has representations of the skulls.

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strangers in. Wherefore that field was called, The field of blood, unto this day." This same transaction is thus noticed in the Acts of the Apostles:- "Now this man (Judas) purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known unto all the dwellers at Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood." This field still retains its name, and is called in every language, and by every people within or about Jerusalem,— Jews, Christians, and Mohammedans,—Aceldama. It is not far distant from the stream of Gihon; and at the period of our visit, there were still the marks and remains of bricks and pottery-ware in the adjoining ravine,—a place likely to be used for their manufacture, as it contained the clay suited for such purposes, and was in the vicinity of a rivulet. Toward the upper end of this enclosure, the traveller is shown, among the many wonders to which tradition, ignorance, and credulity, in this country attach the credence due only to historic record, a large square chamber, sunk in the earth, partly excavated in the rock upon the side of the hill, and partly built of masonry. It is arched at top, and there were formerly on the outside a number of small cupolas, like the tops of furnaces, with a hole in the centre of each, through which were let down the dead bodies to the vault beneath; much in the same manner as is practised in Naples at the present day. A tradition existed that the earth in the bottom of this cavern was possessed of some extraordinary destructive or corrosive power; for it was said to completely consume the bodies thrown into it in twenty-four hours; and on account of this supposed quality, ship-loads of it were, in former years, exported from Joppa to Europe. This tomb has been figured in the rare work of Sandys, who described it in 1610. The cupolas at top somewhat resembled those upon the Roman tomb, represented by Montfaucon as erected over the Curiatii at Albano. The dead continued to be interred in this vault up to the days of Maundrell, who says, "Looking down through these holes, we could see many bodies under several degrees of decay, from which it may be conjectured that this grave does not make that quick despatch with the corpses committed to it, which is commonly reported." Some few bodies were also to be seen in it at the time of Dr. Richardson's visit; but their condition proved how little reliance was to be placed upon the

boasted sarcophagus properties of the place. It is now in a state of complete dilapidation; one side is a ruin; the cupolas have been demolished, and its only occupants, when we visited it, were owls, bats, and cockroaches.

This tomb has been generally described as that which was bought with the blood-money that was returned by Judas Iscariot. It is pointed out as such by the priests and guides, and the belief in its identity seems to have gained strength from its having been permitted to remain uncontradicted; and traveller after traveller has repeated the tale, till it is believed by all. But the architecture, the small stones of which it is built, and the very mortar with which they are connected, all testify to the absurdity of this opinion; and prove that it cannot possibly be coeval with the Christian era. It is of a character totally different from all other Eastern tombs, and the similarity in external appearance to the Roman, and in purport to the Neapolitan, is very remarkable. A date, however, of three centuries later, has been assigned to it by Sandys. "In the midst whereof," says he, when describing the field, "a large square room was made by the mother of Constantine; the south side walled with the natural rock, flat at top, and equal with the upper level, out of which rise certain little cupolas open in the midst to let down the dead bodies."

Having heard a rumour of a tomb that had been lately discovered and opened by the Arabs, in this vicinity, and it being reported that some human remains were found in it, I rode out one evening, during our sojourn in Jerusalem, to examine the place. A little higher up in the cliff that rises from the cavern erected by the Empress Helena, within the ground denominated Aceldama, and in the neighbourhood of the painted chambers, and that excavation called the tomb of Isaiah, some Arabs, when at work in the place, accidentally discovered the door-way of a tomb carved out of the solid rock, which had been concealed by a heap of rubbish, over which the soil had accumulated so as to completely conceal the entrance. Such was the account given to me by credible witnesses in Jerusalem. This entrance at the time of our visit was still partly concealed by brambles, stones, and dirt, so that but one half of the door-way was visible.

It represents a Doric pediment, supported by rude pilasters, with some remains of floral embellishments carved upon the architrave, such as I have noticed as being characteristic of Hebrew sculpture; the whole hewn out

of the rock, from which it stands out in good relief. The most remarkable circumstance connected with this façade, was its door, which struck me the moment I saw it, as being totally different from that of any other tomb that I had ever seen or read of, except one at Petia. It is formed of a single slab of stone, and moves on horizontal pivots that run into sockets cut in the pilasters at top, in the manner of a swinging hinge, similar to that which is sometimes seen in the doors of cottages in this country. The lower part of it had been, as I was informed, broken off by the Arabs, in order to effect an entrance. It is the only outside door of a tomb that I have ever seen, and it differs from all others in not having been formed for concealment, or for being completely closed when the body was deposited within; but was evidently made for the purpose of being opened occasionally. Having entered beneath this ponderous portal, and lighted our candles, we were greatly surprised to find ourselves within a tolerably-sized hall of an oblong shape, cut with great precision out of the rock, but without ornament or adornment of any kind whatever.

Curious to relate, the whole of this tomb afforded a most striking illustration of its appropriateness, to describe the character of self-righteous scribes and pharisees, and showed the forcible application of the language used by the Saviour when denouncing their hypocrisy :-"Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites: for you are like unto whited walls, sepulchres, which, indeed, appear beautiful outward; but within are full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness." At the end, and on either side of the hall, a number of doors led into inner apartments. Each of these chambers was a small oblong crypt, about seven feet long; on either side of which was a trough or sarcophagus, hewn like all the rest of the tomb out of the solid rock, and raised about three feet from the floor, and in all of them were quantities of human bones lying without order or regularity, but in a state of most astonishing preservation. The edges of these troughs were in many places chipped and broken, as if from long use; and the whitewash had not only coated these parts, but had actually spotted several of the bones that lay low down in the bottoms of the troughs. These bones were piled in layers, and as each trough contained several, the whitewash must have been used subsequently to some of the bodies being placed within them. This whitewash