maus;[1] it is just the distance of a 'sabbath-day's journey' from Jerusalem." So now we were for the first time approaching the scene of the Saviour's converse with the disciples when about to leave our world, and in a few minutes we should be treading the very road which had been pressed by His footsteps. I felt that the place was to me holy ground.
We recollect Cowper's lines:—
"It happened on a solemn eventide,
Soon after He, who was our Surety, died,
Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined.
The scene of all those sorrows left behind,
Sought their own village, busied as they went
In musings worthy of the great event.
They thought Him, and they justly thought Him, one
Sent to do more than He appeared to have done—
To exalt a people, and to place them high
Above all else, and wondered He should die!
Ere yet they brought their journey to an end,
A stranger joined them, courteous as a friend,
And asked them with a kind, engaging air,
What their affliction was, and begged a share.
Informed, He gathered up the broken thread
And, truth and wisdom gracing all He said,
Explained, illustrated, and searched so well
The tender theme on which they chose to dwell,
That, reaching home, 'the night,' they said, 'is near,
We must not now be parted—sojourn here.'
The new acquaintance soon became a guest.
And, made so welcome at their simple feast,
He blessed the bread, but vanished at the word,
And left them both exclaiming,' 'Tis the Lord!' "
Full of such thoughts we pressed onwards along the rugged road towards the sacred city, and entered its gates just before sunset.
- ↑ Conder, "Tent Work in Palestine," p. 140.
