LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap..„_„..l Oopyridit No. 

^ttii- 1 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THE SERIES. 



Coaching in Merrie England. A Journal of a 
Coaching Tour in England; also of a Visit to 
York, Lincoln, Ely, London, Paris, Switzer- 
land and the Rhine in 1895; Together with 
Notes of Coaching in England in 1804. With 
numerous Illustrations carefully selected, or 
photographed by Members of the Parties^ 
1895. Green cloth. Pp. 213. Price $2.00 by 
mail. 

\* A very few copies of above remain unsold. 

From England to Italy. By Twenty Contrib- 
utors. With twenty-eight Illustrations, most- 
ly Photographed by the Members. 1896. Drab 
linen. Pp.212. Price $1.50 by mail. 

From America to Russia in Summer of 1897. By 
Fourteen Contributors. With twenty-three 
Illustrations. Red cloth. Pp. 167, Price $1.50 
by mail. 



From America to the Orient. Twelve Con- 
tributors. With thirty-five Illustrations, 
mostly Photographed by Members of the 
Party. Maroon and blue cloth. Pp.280. Price 
$100 net; $1.10 by mail. 

*** The last three works above named will be 
mailed together to any one address, expressage 
prepaid, for $3.50. 



HONEYMAN & COMPANY, 

Plainfield, New Jersey, 



FROM AMERICA 
TO THE ORIENT 

ndvTj] 6e Ato? KexpriixeBa rrcti^Te? 
ToO yoLp /cat yeVog icrfxiv. 
— A rat US of Cilica, iii 

'"^a.ivoix^vo..'" 




plainfielD, 1Rew Jersey 
IHone^man ^ Company 



Off?ce'of tte© 
Register of CopyrlgfafSk 



49854 



Copyright, iSgg, by 
HONEYMAN & COMPANY 



SECOND COP^. 



PREFACE 



HIS WORK scarcely needs an introduction, 



i as its various chapters speak for themselves. 
It is the fourth volume in the series of books of 
travel, the titles of which are noted upon a preced- 
ing page. 

The contributors to the volume are not as a rule 
professional writers, but, perhaps, all the more will 
it be found that their style has a refreshing direct- 
ness and individuality not always met with in simi- 
lar books. The Editor has endeavored to har- 
monize the different spellings of proper names and 
places, which, in the East, appear to be based upon 
no usual rules of orthography, and to this end has 
generally followed Baedeker in his various well- 
known guide books, but with a few trifling excep- 
tions. 

Of the "Contributors" and ''Fellow-Travelers," 
Rev. Dr. Kiehle only accompanied the party 
through Palestine; the Judges Ewing went from 
Athens to Palestine and Egypt and then left for 
Constantinople ; Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Kip, return- 
ing missionaries from India, were with us in and 
about Jerusalem, on the excursion to the Dead Sea 
and the Jordan, and at Beirut and Damascus ; Rev. 
Dr. Hutton and wife, and Mrs. and Miss Foster, 
remained nearly three months in Venice and were 
not with the party in Florence or at the second 




ii 



Ipreface 



visit to Rome, and Miss Oiler joined us at Alexan- 
dria for the Italian and homeward trip. 

In summing up our experiences during this three 
months' journey to Europe and the Orient, there 
would probably be a consensus of opinion on these 
points: First, that there are no difficulties of travel 
in the civilized portions of Greece varying much 
from those of other European countries. The whole 
of Greece^ where open for travel, is safe for parties, 
and the most of it for individuals. Second, the 
methods of travel in the interior of Palestine are 
wholly different from those known to tourists in 
civilized lands. Travelers must go in parties with 
a sufficient number of honest native attendants, and 
camp at night under the protection of the sheik or 
governor of the locality. There is much fatigue and 
some danger from accidents in making the camping 
tour from Jerusalem northward; and while the 
strong and the prudent may undertake this risk, it 
is not wise for the invalid nor the extremely nerv- 
ous to do so. Third, Egypt should be visited be- 
fore the heat of the Spring arrives, and the earlier 
the better. It is doubtful if any trip up the Nile can 
be made with comfort after the twentieth day of 
March. But Palestine, because of "the latter rains" 
of late March and early April, ought not to be 
reached until April tenth, at least. 

The illustrations are nearly all from photographs 
taken on the spot by members of the party and are 
credited under each picture to the "artist." 

Summing up, as to cities, we found Jerusalem de- 
lightful wholly from its historic associations ; intrin- 
sically, the modern city itself has little to commend it. 
Damascus is unique and varied, but not so in- 



preface 



ill 



teresting as Cairo. Beirut has the most charming 
location of any of the places we saw on the eastern 
shore of the Mediterranean. Cairo was the most 
captivating city visited. Athens, which was the eye 
of the world in the days of Pericles and Plato, is 
still one of the most attractive localities possible 
to the student. Like Rome, Athens is a constant 
source of delight. Whoever studies, even for a few 
days, its matchless Parthenon and Theseum will be 
thereafter a wiser and ought to be a better and 
happier being. 

A. V. D. H. 



Each cooing- dove and sighing bought 

That makes the eve so blest to me^ 
Has something far diviner now, 

It bears me back to Galilee. 

Each flow' ry glen and mossy dell^ 

Where happy birds in song agree. 
Through sunny morn the praises tell, 

Of sights and sounds in Galilee. 

And when I read the thrilling lore 

Of Him who walked upon the sea, 
J long, oh, how 1 lo?ig once more. 

To follow Him in Galilee ! 

Oh, Galilee, siveet Galilee, 

Where fesus lov'd so much to be ; 
Oh, Galilee, blue Galilee, 

Come sing thy song again to me. 

—H. R. Palmer 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I.— East Bound Toward Italy 9 

II.— Beautiful Naples i6 

III. — Pompeii and Vesuvius . . . . . . 19 

IV. — In "The Eternal City " 30 

V. — The Colosseum Illuminated 48 

VI. — The Approach to Athens 54 

VII. — Athens 59 

VIII.— Eleusis 68 

IX.— The Land of the Philistines 73 

X. — The Mountains Round About Jerusalem . . 80 

XI.— The Streets of Jerusalem • 86 

XII.— Bethlehem 95 

XIII. — Jordan and the Dead Sea loi 

XIV. — Camping Tour— First Day 109 

XV. — Camping Tour— By Jacob's Well to Nablous . 122 
XVI.— Camping Tour— To Samaria and Jenin . . 127 

XVII.— Camping Tour— Over Esdraelon . . . • 13s 

XVIII.— Camping Tour— To Sea of Galilee ... 144 

XIX. — Camping Tour — A Sunday in Nazareth . . 155 

XX.— Camping Tour— To Haifa 160 



(Jontentg 



CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI.— Damascus . . .164 

XXII.— The Temples of Baalbek . . . . . 172 

XXIIL— At Beirut and Dog River 179 

XXIV.— The Land of Goshen ....... 184 

XXV.— The Streets of Cairo 192 

XXVI.— At Ancient On 203 

XXVII.— The Sphinx and Pyramids 210 

XXVIII.— Bedouin Festival 218 

XXIX.— The Resting Place of the Pharaohs . . - 226 

XXX.— The Site ot Memphis 237 

XXXI.— The Tomb of Tih 244 

XXXII.— Venice 248 

XXXIII. — Florence 256 

XXXIV. — In Rome Again 264 

Index • . . 275 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing 

EGYPT: Page 

On— the Obelisk 145 

Delightful Experience on the Nile .... 216 

Anierican Girl on Top 216 

Natives Near the Pyramids 217 

Greece: 

Athens— Parthenon from the Southwest ... 64 

Athens— Theatre of Dionysos 65 

Athens— The Ancient Street Tombs .... 65 

Corinth— Temple of Jupiter . .... 64 

Marathon— Mound to Athens Patriots, 490 B. C. , 80 



1Fllu0tration6 vii 



Facing 

Italy: Page 

Pompeii — Street View 24 

Rome — Arch of Titus 25 

Rome— On the Via Appia ...... 273 

Venice — View on the Grand Canal .... 272 

PALESTINE: 

Bethany — House of Mary and Martha . . , 109 

Bethany — Cries for " Bakshish " 104 

Camping Tour — The Start 112 

Camping Tour— The Procession .... 113 

Camping Tour— Joseph's "Well of the Pit ' . . 113 

Camping Tour — Entering Cana 144 

Camping Tour — Noon Lunch at Cana . . . 144 

Camping Tour— Water Carriers on Plain of Jezreel 152 

Camping Tour— On Sea of Galilee .... 152 

Camping Tour — John, the Cook . . . . 153 

Camping Tour— Our Faithful Friend "Amos " . 160 

Camping Tour — At Nazareth in Camp ... 161 

Ford of the Jordan 112 

Jaffa— How Steamer Passengers are Landed . . 80 

Jerusalem — View from Mt. Scopus .... 81 

Jerusalem— Calvary, " Place of a Skull " . . . 96 

Jerusalem— Calvary, on the Summit .... 97 

Jerusalem— The Damascus Gate .... 97 

Jerusalem— Gethsemane, Scene in the Garden . 108 

Moses— Special Guard to Jericho .... 109 
Nazareth— 1 he Carpenter Shop . . . Frontispiece 

On Shore of the Dead Sea 105 



Contributors 

REV. WILLIAM R. RICHARDS, D.D. 

REV. MANCIUS H. HUTTON, D.D. 

MRS. MARY ELEANOR HUTTON. 

REV. A. A. KIEHLE, D.D. 

REV. TITUS E. DAVIS. 

MR. FINLEY ACKER. 

MRS. FANNIE GROENDYKE FOSTER. 

MISS JENNIE (iROENDYKE FOSTER. 

MISS HANNAH D. HAYES. 

MISS ELLEN COIT. 

MISS MAY OLLER. 

MR. A. V. D. HONEYMAN. 



jfeUow=^raveler0 

HON. JOHN K. EWING. 
HON. NATHANIEL EWING. 
REV. ERSKINE M. RODMAN. 
MR. MULFORD ESTIL. 
MRS. FRANCES H. BARRY. 
MRS. FINLEY ACKER. 
MISS MARY HAYES. 
MISS LYDIA K. HAYES. 
REV. LEONARD W. KIP, D.D. 
MRS. LEONARD W. KIP. 



FROM AMERICA TO THE ORIENT 



CHAPTER 1. 

EAST BOUND TOWARD ITALY. 

A FOURTEENTH trip over the ocean separating 
America from Europe might seem to many 
monotonous. Not so to the lover of the sea. 
Those of us who had crossed before began a 
new voyage, this time to the Mediterranean, 
if not with absolute faith in our seagoing 
qualities, nevertheless with a certainty of the en- 
joyment of almost every moment of every hour of 
every day. To enjoy the best of company and pos- 
sess the consciousness that the changeful waves are 
to be again so dark and so bright, so undulating 
and so peaceful by day and by night for a period of 
twelve days, is to have rest, recreation, amusement, 
tonic. Everything behind, save loved ones, forgot- 
9 



lO 



jfrom Bmerica to tbe Qvicnt 



ten ; everything before to be interesting, novel, in- 
spiring; should not this be bliss? 

The dear, sweet sea! Always too real to be a 
dream, too earnest to be wholly an idyl, sure to be 
for its lovers ''a thing of beauty and a joy forever." 
Be it in calm or in disquiet, be it just as we would 
have it or simply as God made it, is it not fuller of 
splendors than of terrors, of harmonies than of dis- 
cords, all the day long? Grand, old sea! Before Job 
was, thou wert tens of thousands of years old; and 
when all of human kind shall have passed away, thou 
wilt be as full of glorious wrinkles and of heavenly 
calms as now. Until the heavens shall be as brass 
and the. earth as the moon itself, the morning sun 
shall continue to coronet thy brow and the midnight 
stars to diadem thy bosom. Splendid gray and blue 
old sea ! Would that every fair lady, who sighs on 
the ship over the cup of coffee which will not stay 
where it. is placed, may become as much a lover of 
thy deep, wide heart as the one who pens these 
words. 

The *'Ems" was not averse to rolling when diag- 
onal winds or cross currents struck her with some 
force. But she was a good boat. The dining room 
was a work of genuine art. The smoking room above 
it was a little stufTy, but an excellent place for naps. 
The staterooms were fair; not quite up-to-date, but 
still not of the ancient type. As our company had 
brought, oyer seventy volumes of European and Ori- 
ental travel to read on the way, we surely could not 
suffer from intellectual decay, though, if the truth 
must be confessed, the gentlemen, rather than the 
ladies, patronized this literature on the way to Na- 
ples. The " angels in human dress" were, if not af- 



jSaet :fl3ounD JTowarD Iftal^ n 



flicted with mal de mer, at least inattentive to the 
printed page. 

The Captain of the ''Ems" was every inch a man; 
more so than the clergyman whom he requested one 
day to preach for him and who replied: "Sorry, 
Captain, but I cannot consent to preach to Hes- 
sians. It is pleasant to add that this clergyman went 
on a previous voyage; he was not of our '99 com- 
pany. 

Usually passengers play many games on shipboard. 
True, the divinity side, when challenged by the lay 
side to play shuffleboard, just ''waxed" the challen- 
gers, but this was a little by-issue. Games on the 
whole, especially the out-of-door ones, were rather 
rare. Naps were preferable for some; for others 
Geikie, St. Clair, Stanley, Baedeker and Hare. One 
clerical wag actually made us believe — until he 
reached Naples and then fell willingly into line be- 
side the native courier — that he had mastered the 
Italian grammar and language in about four days of 
casual study. I say casual, because when the Rev- 
erend Doctor was not joking about pineapples grow- 
ing on trees, or taking snapshots with such euphoni- 
ous and expressive labels as "Some Barbers I Have 
Known," he was himself telling an unnumbered host 
of land and sea yarns, which held us aghast at "Some 
Things Which Might Possibly Have Happened," if 
we believed everything he reported. When he told 
us one day, for example, that a severe roll of the ship 
had tossed an occupant of an upper berth out into the 
sofa on the opposite side of the stateroom, and that 
the next roll had placed the victim joyfully back, un- 
injured, into the upper berth, we marveled, and a few 
disbdi^vecl And, speaking of dreams, he had the 



12 jfrom Bmertca to tbe ©rtent 



queer fashion, he said, of dreaming about being fast- 
ened up within a pyramid, or of seeing two snakes 
swallowing one another in circles, with the horrible 
problem ever after confronting him of what eventu- 
ally became in each case of both those snakes ! And 
all this while his active mind was conquering "Ahn's 
Practical Method" of acquiring Italian in four days. 
Marvels like these do sometimes occur on shipboard 
and are not alone performed by ocean barbers. 

When the ninth sailing day came around it was the 
Sabbath, ''bright, calm and holy." The thoughtful, 
original, inspiriting sermon of Rev. Dr. R. on the 
preceding Sabbath, from Luke 5 14, "Launch forth 
into the deep," was now followed by a splendid trib- 
ute to ''Life," the "Life indeed" (i Tim., 6:12), 
which Rev. Dr. H. advised his hearers to grasp. Its 
immensity, its intensity, its perfection, should fill and 
thrill us on our shorter world-life's pilgrimage. It 
is a solemn service, always, that one attends on the 
great deep. The moving sanctuary has not even the 
stability of the tent in the wilderness. It sways to 
and fro, while the waves tumble over each other 
against prow and stern, and the unknown depth like 
the unknown , height seems to hold the worshipper 
under the spell of infinity rather than of transient 
things. The Gospel, happily, fits not only all kinds 
and conditions of men, but all intellects in all locali- 
ties. Perhaps ten miles of green and gray water 
was below us, and nothing above or around us save 
the overarching sky and the voiceless horizon, yet 
every human heart on the "Ems" those Sabbath 
mornings could have felt, should have felt, the touch 
of every kindred heart at home in America, and also 
the indwelling spirit of God, as much so as if all were 



East :fi3ounD n^owar^ ITtali^ 13 



in one sanctuary somewhere near the Atlantic coast, 
worshipping Him who made all the earth. There 
may not have been in the responsiveness to the heav- 
enly touch quite the sweetness and calm of the more 
memorable days later in ''holy Galilee," but the right 
chord played upon by the Master hand on sea or on 
land never gives to the true soul a discordant note. 

The Azores were unexpected in effects of hill- 
heights and cheerful homes. If they looked bleak, 
we remembered that the frost-chills of winter had 
not altogether released their fingers from these rocky 
cliffs and semi-cultivated fields. It is the unlooked- 
for which sometimes most delights. We looked for 
rocks and sand ; we saw mountains and fertile soil. 
We expected fishing hamlets and villages of dark col- 
ored huts ; we discovered busy cities, of stable struc- 
tures, strongly built, white as the snow and with all 
vestiges of uncivilization brushed away. Ponte Del- 
gade, and other cities of San Miguel stand out in 
memory to-day as delightful pictures in charming set- 
tings, to see which once is to remember them long 
and to remember them often. 

And Gibraltar, the rock fortress ; the approach to 
it between the Pillars of Hercules, with Europe on 
the one hand, Africa on the other, each near enough 
to shake hands together at the mere distance of a 
cannon ball ; Tangiers in Morocco over to the right, 
the Sierra Nevada range of mountains in Andalu- 
sia to the left ; the compact city of Gibraltar at the 
feet of those English guns ; the yacht of Queen Vic- 
toria and both battleships and traders in the fore- 
front of water; the donkeys of burden and their Cas- 
tilian drivers and riders; the tawny Spaniards and 
the black-haired, ring-eared Moors; the linen-coated 



14 Jfrom amedca to tbe ^vicnt 



and linen-trousered British warriors and the un- 
kempt, funereal-gowned soldiers of Alphonso; the 
bright flowers, parks of palm and banana and alder ; 
the narrow streets; the terraced battlements, port 
holes in the pierced rocks, and Moorish castle — ^how 
these and other specific scenes of the three hours 
spent there stand out in memory as a kaleidoscopic 
picture of a bit of new and queer world ! Whether 
Mark Twain's ''Ferguson" was the same as the guide 
who told us ''he was he" or not; whether Rev. Dr. 
R.'s snapshot at the sea gull was a successful or an 
ill one ; whether a half-sovereign was paid out by an 
esteemed member of our party for a half-crown, or 
otherwise; whether we believed or disbelieved the 
story that the Spanish soldiers only received three 
ha' pennies a day for their services to their country, 
while British soldiers were rewarded by a shilling 
a day — all the same and nevertheless we had a new 
spirit of daring, a new bond of enjoyment, to talk 
over when we went again on shipboard and were 
turned prowward to Naples and the blue Mediter- 
ranean Sea. 

Of course some of the substantial and a few of 
the dainties of a semi-southern clime came on 
board the vessel at Gibraltar and so we had white 
fish, lobsters and strawberries, and the Captain pre- 
sented each lady with a bunch of blue violets and his 
card. When the "Ems" comes to be sold, as it is 
likely to b^ at any time, and when Captain Harrasso- 
witz is. if not advanced, "relegated" (he will cer- 
tainly not consider it a promotion) to the China 
trade, hosts of his passenger-friends will deeply re- 
gret it. 

There were two successive sunsets of real beauty, 



15 



both upon the Mediterranean, in this voyage to Na- 
ples; none upon the Atlantic, and, probably, no 
visible sunrise. The Dean's anxiety to capture a 
first-class sunrise was too great; Nature would not 
accord him the favor. 

And now the voyage was about to end. It had 
seemed so much of a pleasure to the most of us that 
the only natural thing would be for it to continue for- 
ever. Could it be that the twelfth day of constant 
morning greetings at the breakfast table and of the 
long discussions over scientific, philosophical, socia! 
and religious problems at the table d'hote of one and 
one-half hours were to cease? Were the sub- 
jects of 'The Man who had lost his Baggage," 
or of ''The Woman who wanted to go Home," or 
of the "Golden Days of Pericles," and "The Relative 
Merits of Leonidas and of the Caesars," ever to 
have an end? Did we desire them to end? Yes, 
buried Pompeii and the active Neapolitans, Roman 
colosseums and Delphic oracles, Vocal Memnons 
and "sweet, sweet Galilee" were all ahead, and be- 
side them sea and sunset for the time paled, and we 
really longed to reach the desired haven. And it 
was with eagerness to land that we steamed on a 
Thursday morning at daybreak into Naples, and, 
under the very eye of smoking Vesuvius, the hills 
of Posilippo and St. Elmo and the islands of Capri 
and Ischia, we halted awhile to drink in some of the 
beauties of the land of Virgil and of Horace, of 
Pliny and of Tasso. 

A. V. D. H. 



CHAPTER II. 



BEAUTIFUL NAPLES. 

IN THE dreamy leisure of the steamer chair, fancy 
laid hold upon the pleasures that were before us, 
and we pictured to ourselves the scenes that would 
meet our eyes when the pitching and the rolling should 
have ceased and we should again have placed our 
feet upon ''Mother Earth." In our imaginings Na- 
ples played a small part. Indeed, I am afraid we con- 
sidered it scarcely worthy of a visit, but looked upon 
it only as a portal to more glorious and beautiful 
things in nature, history and art. But after a few 
days' sojourn, we found that Italy's most populous 
city contains much of interest. 

The site of Naples is the most picturesque in Eu- 
rope" It commands a fine view of the sea. The sun 
sparkling upon its deep blue waters, which are dotted 
with occasional sails and canopied with the clear, 
blue Italian sky, presents a scene that is not soon 
forgotten. On the east, Vesuvius towers up some 
thousands of feet, crowned by its living furnace, a 
perpetual reminder of the havoc and desolation which 
it is capable of creating. The fertility of the soil 
i6 



aseautlful Maplea 



17 



clothes the surrounding hills with the orange and the 
vine, the almond and the fig, whose varied foliage 
forms a rich background to the brightly painted 
houses with their flat roofs and neat balconies orna- 
mented with flower gardens. And the environs are 
especially attractive. There are beautiful drives, 
which modern luxury has lined with magnificent vil- 
las, many of them on the sites which in Virgil's time 
were occupied by the residences of the wealthy 
patricians. 

Naples has mild winters, and the summer heat is so 
agreeably tempered by the sea breezes that the in- 
habitants, especially the lower classes, practically live 
out of doors. Thus their domestic as well as their 
business life may be readily observed. The family 
washing is done on the sidewalk. The cobbler has 
his bench outside his door. Even the brazier has his 
place at the curbstone, and the meals for the house- 
hold are prepared in the open court. Grandmother 
draws her stool to the threshold, where she busily 
plies her knitting needles. Here also the week's 
mending is done, and the garments prepared for 
those festive occasions which are so numerous and 
so delightful to the Neapolitan. Refreshment stands 
are placed on the sidewalks, and these are so well 
patronized that one oftentimes must step into the 
street in order to go by, and considers himself fortu- 
nate to regain the walk without accident from the 
very rapid driving practiced by the Neapolitan cab- 
men. To add to the busy life the huckster peddles 
his wares, and his harsh shouting denies the state- 
ment that ''the Italian language is recognized as the 
most harmonious in the world." Morning and even- 
ing the tinkling of the cow bell is heard, and un- 



i8 jfrom Bmerfca to tbe ©dent 



adulterated milk is distributed at the very door. To 
the stranger the bane of Neapolitan street life is the 
vender of trinkets and the beggar whose persistency- 
is unequaled. 

The Museum is undoubtedly the most interesting 
place in Naples. The famous collections it contains 
afford fine opportunity for the study of Greek and 
Roman art. The paintings teach us much of the life 
and habits of the citizens. In fact by a visit to the 
Museum we may repeople the fated cities of Pompeii 
and Herculaneum. The household utensils, writing 
materials, surgical and musical instruments, jewelry 
and coins, even articles of food used by the Pom- 
peiians are here exhibited in a fairly good state of 
preservation. But the many wonderful things in this 
Museum defy description, and must be seen to be ap- 
preciated. 

Much more might be told of this busy city, includ- 
ing the Tomb of Virgil and the surroundings of Sor- 
rento and Capri, and, did it boast a Trevi, I would 
throw in my coin and drink of its clear waters. But 
it has been but a threshold, and we must hie off to 
see Pompeii and then equally marvelous Rome. 

H. D. H. 



CHAPTER III. 



POMPEII AND VESUVIUS. 



HE CITY of the Dead! The City of the Dead!" 



1 was the significant and only comment made by 
Sir Walter Scott, when, in profound thought and 
meditation, he walked through the silent and un- 
peopled streets of unearthed Pompeii. 

And this sentiment of awe and reverence is shared 
in some degree by all visitors. It is difficult, almost 
impossible, to repress it. And the sentiment widens 
and deepens as, in our imagination, we restore the 
dwellings, the shops, the temples, the theatres to their 
former condition, and reanimate the people who 
thronged its streets and participated in its amuse- 
ments, on that eventful day in the year A. D. 79. 

The stones in the street pavement are just as they 
were two thousand years ago; and the deep ruts in 
them make it easy to picture the coming of a gor- 
geously painted chariot, drawn by spirited horses 
and rapidly driven by a haughty Roman, whose 
proud figure and jeweled garments betoken his 
wealth and position. Passing the wine shops, with 
their marble counters still intact, it is not difficult to 
repeople them with those who in laughter and song 
there whiled away hours of idleness. 
Coming to the public fountains at the street corners 




20 



jfrom amedca to tbe ©dent 



we can easily picture the natives stooping to drink 
water from the spout, for the deep indentations worn 
into the marble show where, for many generations, 
they rested their hands to balance the body as they 
leaned forward. Entering the house of the Tragic 
Poet, or of Pansa (an excellent reproduction of 
which can be found in Saratoga), or of Diomede, or 
of Sallust, we can bring to mind the master of the 
house transacting business in the front rooms ; or, 
by passing through the peristyle into the dining room 
with its atmosphere cooled by the spray of gushing 
fountains and fragrant with the perfume of flowers, 
we may see the table supplied with the choicest viands 
and delicacies, and the reclining figures of hilarious 
diners, who believed in interpreting the conspicuous 
presence of a skull not as a warning to prepare for 
death, but as a reminder that life is short and that 
they must extract all possible pleasure while they 
can. 

Leaving the dwellings and entering the market- 
place we can imagine the stalls again filled with the 
fruits, the vegetables and provisions of the times ; 
and also picture the women, clad in their Grecian 
gowns of gay colors, whose thin, loose drapery gave 
such picturesque outline to the natural form, bar- 
gaining with the same vivacity which marks the 
Italian women of to-day. Looking into the bake- 
shop we may reanimate the very baker who baked 
that celebrated loaf of bread, stamped with his trade- 
mark, but which, instead of nourishing the people 
of his time, has been singularly preserved for the 
curious gaze of people of countless generations. En- 
tering the open Forum we may almost hear the voice 
of the candidate for ofifice as he appeals for votes in 



Ipompeii ant) IDeeuviue 21 



the coming election. Passing on we can imagine vo- 
tive offerings to be made in the graceful white marble 
temples of Apollo, of Jupiter, of Fortune, and in that 
mysterious temple of Isis, whose oracle made the 
worshipers hopeful or despairing, according to the 
whim of the priest, who, by means of a concealed 
speaking tube, transmitted his voice; to the mouth of 
the stone figure. Entering the elaborate baths we 
can again picture the luxurious Pompeiians enjoy- 
ing all the exhilarating details of bathing, massaging 
and anointing; or idling their time in chatting over 
the current events of the day. Passing near the quar- 
ters of the gladiators and the streets they frequented, 
we can almost overhear their coarse jests, and their 
outbursts of loud laughter while pursuing those 
voluptuous pleasures of which such curious relics 
have been bequeathed to the student of history. Or 
in visiting the open theatre, we can picture an audi- 
ence of five thousand Pompeiians shouting their ap- 
probation or condemnation of the performance of the 
actors. Or, looking into the bay, which at that time 
washed the very portals of the city, we can picture 
it dotted with the boats of those who, under the 
blue canopy of an Italian sky, were serenely sailing 
over the most beautiful bay in the world. 

Having, in our imagination, thus restored the 
brightly stuccoed dwellings, the white marble tem- 
ples, and the classical statues to their former pic- 
turesque beauty; and having seen the people en- 
gaged in their ordinary pursuits of business, of social 
affairs and of pleasures, we must complete the event- 
ful picture by feeling a sudden quivering of the 
ground — by hearing a deep, hoarse rumbling like that 
of distant cannonading; and by seeing from the 



22 jFrom Bmcrlca to tbc ©dent 



green-topped summit of Mount Vesuvius a huge pil- 
lar of smoke and ashes, which rose higher, higher, 
higher; and broader, broader, broader until it spread 
as far away as Africa, as Egypt, as Syria, and changed 
the blue Italian sky first into a dull gray and finally 
into a deep black; and then dimmed the bright rays 
of the sun, then changed its face into a dull reddish 
disc, then obscured it altogether, until the blackness 
of night and death fell like a funeral pall upon the 
scene below ! 

What actually occurred at the time of the dreadful 
catastrophe seems almost incredible, but according 
to the testimony of reliable eye witnesses, such as 
Pliny (who succeeded in escaping from the city, but 
whose uncle lost his life at Stabise while watching 
the eruption), fine ashes first fell, which became 
thicker and denser, until they penetrated the houses, 
vitiated the atmosphere, piled up deeper and deeper 
in the streets, like the snow during our blizzard of 
last February, until they reached a depth of three 
feet. People in the houses sought the streets ; those 
in the streets sought the houses. The main thor- 
oughfares became crowded with people — some eager 
to reach the seashore, others eager to leave the shore 
and seek refuge in the city. Parents became sep- 
arated from their children; wives from their hus- 
bands, and in the dense darkness could only hope to 
be reunited by the sound of the voice, which was al- 
most undisj;inguishable amid the lamentations of the 
women, the cries of the children, the shrieks of those 
being trampled and crushed, and the weird, dismal 
shouts of some Galileans that ''Babylon is fallen! 
Babylon is fallen!" 

At th^ same time the sea became convulsed with 



Pompeii an& Desuviue 



23 



violent agitation, threatening to engulf tlfose who 
ventured upon its surface. And then Vesuvius sud- 
denly gushed forth a great pillar of fire which cov- 
ered the city with a shower of red-hot pumice stone 
to a depth of seven or eight feet; then belched out 
another shoAver of ashes, and then a second shower 
of pumice, until the entire city was covered to a depth 
of about twenty feet, under which the unexcavated 
portions of the city still lie buried. 

With this tragic picture fresh in mind, it is but 
natural that I should have experienced a sentiment 
of profound pathos as I trod the pavements and 
streets, which to-day are the same as they were on 
the day of the eruption ; and as I gazed upon the fres- 
coed walls of the dwellings, entered the shops, vis- 
ited the temples and inspected the baths and the- 
atres. 

From the discoveries and researches which have 
been made, it would seem that during the three days 
of the eruption probably two thousand Pompeiians 
perished. In one large underground room were found 
the bodies of eighteen people, who probably selected 
that place as a safe refuge, but who were stifled with 
the fine ashes or the gases. The fact that Pompeii 
was known to have been a wealthy and luxurious 
city, while, on the other hand, the jewels and gold 
which have been unearthed in modern times were 
comparatively meagre, warrants the belief that 
shortly after the eruption numerous excavations were 
made to recover jewels and other valuables; and for 
several centuries the ruins were probably repeatedly 
ransacked for the marbles, statues and precious 
stones used in the embellishment of the temple and 
other buildings. After that period, however, the city 



24 



JFrom Bmerlca to tbe ©dent 



seems^to have been entirely forgotten for about four- 
teen centuries, when, in 1748, the discovery of some 
statues attracted the attention of Charles III., who 
caused excavations to be made. For a century the 
work went on with more or less irregularity, but since 
i860 a systematic plan has been adopted which, if 
carried out during the next fifty years and with an 
expenditure of about one million dollars, will prob- 
ably result in laying bare to the public gaze all that 
remains of this wonderfully preserved and interest- 
ing "City of the Dead." 

An appropriate companion visit to Pompeii is the 
ascent of Mount Vesuvius. Leaving Naples by car- 
riage, and driving through the old district of the 
city, where the proverbial characteristics of the Ne- 
apolitan poor can be seen to advantage, we begin a 
gradual ascent through fertile field and productive 
vineyards. On the road we are met by troops of 
Neapolitan youngsters whose manual training seems 
to have been limited to learning the song of "Bak- 
shish! Bakshish!" 

I know how aggravating this cry is to many trav- 
elers, and how it is deplored in guide books, but, as 
the custom has become almost universal in European 
and Asiatic countries and, therefore, must be en- 
dured, I am inclined to believe that it may be con- 
verted into a source of entertainment instead of prov- 
ing a nervous irritant. Probably only a very small 
proportion of those who ask for *'bakshish" expect to 
get it, for it may be received only once in response 
to several hundred appeals, and the equanimity of 
the pleader is not often disturbed when the coin fa?ls 
to materialize. In response to such appeals I have 
frequently extended my own hand and jestingly 



ROME— INTERIOR OF ARCH OF TITUS. 



View of inside of Arch, showing- the Triumphal Procession of the 
Roman Legions into Rome, bearing- with them the Golden Candle 
stick taKen from the Temple at Jerusalem. 



Ipompcfi auD IDeauviua 25 



asked them for "bahskish," and this almost invariably 
excited among the children the greatest glee and good 
humor. And many of the Italian babies with their 
romid, chubby faces, black hair, and large, appealing 
eyes, are too picturesque to treat harshly or with dis- 
dain, even though they are taught to clamor for "bak- 
shish." And some of them are so bright and attrac- 
tive that the question spontaneously arises: Is it not, 
after all, the mere place of birth and social environ- 
ment (for which the individual is wholly responsible) 
which gravitates the prattling infant into a future 
flowerseller of Naples, a Bedouin daughter of the 
desert, or a belle of Fifth Avenue, or Rittenhouse 
Square? Do not the differences lie mainly in the ex- 
terior? May not the motives and inherent character 
be the same, regardless of position or external ap- 
pearances? And this fellow-feeling for humanity 
engenders a kindlier feeling and a keener interest in 
those who cry for ''bakshish," and suggests the 
thought that this form of appeal may be but the nat- 
uiial growth of those pitiable conditions which be- 
token a bitter struggle for mere existence; a struggle 
which is significantly indicated by the clothes of 
these Neapolitan children, not one suit of which ap- 
pears to have been made or purchased for the boy or 
girl wearing it, but seeming, rather, a legacy from 
parent or grandparent, and but slightly modified to 
meet the wants of the wearer. 

One little fellow, about eight years old, persisted 
in following the carriage from the outskirts of Na- 
ples to the very base of the cone of Vesuvius and then 
trotted back, a distance of probably eight or ten miles, 
and he appeared most grateful for the few centesimi 
which he finally received. On the way we were met 



26 



3from Bmerica to tbe ©dent 



by a band of strolling, blind musicians, whose ser- 
enade was most acceptable. Further on a cripple 
greeted us with a whistling performance which was 
quite skillful. Then we were met by another band of 
musicians, and also by the makers and venders of a 
somewhat celebrated wine, bearing, as it appears to 
me, a most sacrilegious title. Then a young man met 
us who proposed to take certain coins and imbed 
them in the hot lava and return them to us- — for a, 
consideration. And girls picked flowers and boys 
gathered specimens of curious stones for us; and so 
the recipients of ''bakshish" proved entertaining to 
me, rather than annoying, in ascending the rnountain. 

But, after a time, the beautifully fertile region sud- 
denly stopped, and in striking contrast appeared a 
vast bed. of black lava which had been belched forth 
during the last eruption in 1895. The solidified forms 
which this molten stream of lava finally assumed ap- 
pear like a weird and gruesome tableau to. illustrate 
the agonizing convulsions of the mountain, as it 
again poured out its vials of fiery wrath upon the 
luckless dwellers within its reach. One might sus- 
pect that Gustave Dore had visited such a place in 
depicting the scenes in Dante's Inferno, for almost 
the entire bed of lava appeared like a heterogeneous 
mass of human arms and legs and headless trunks, all 
coiled and twisted and entwined with serpents and 
with limbs of animals, while here and there might be 
seen the uplifted head of a hyena, or of a vulture 
gloating over the field of death and desolation. When 
Bulwer located his Witch of Vesuvius in the moun- 
tain the fertile fields covered its very summit, but 
had it then existed as this bed of lava now appears, 
it is easy to imagine her inhuman gloatings at the 



f>ompeif auD tt)e6u\?fu6 27 



prospect of dwelling amid such weird and horrible 
surroundings. 

But after reaching the foot of the cone and re- 
freshing yourself with the excellent dejeuner which 
is there provided, you make the ascent by means of 
a cable incline railway, which at some places is al- 
most steep enough to suggest the substitution of 
an elevator. For those who enjoy looking out 
from such a steep ascent, a magnificent view of the 
surrounding country and Bay of Naples may be 
obtained, but when you leave the car and begin the 
final ascent of the cone, a scene of excitement gen- 
erally follows which precludes many travelers, upon 
the occasion of their first visit, from thinking of 
much else than their personal comfort and safety. 
The distance from the terminus of the railroad to 
the mouth of the crater is several hundred feet. 
The ascent is extremely steep. The ground con- 
sists of fine, loose ashes, and the wind generally 
blows at so furious a rate as to threaten the uncere- 
monious uplifting of the traveler and depositing 
him somewhere near Naples. The guides have a 
trick of rushing you up at so rapid a rate that you 
become, in a few moments, thoroughly exhausted, 
and pant as though nearly all the breath had left 
your body. In this helpless condition you gladly 
cling to the strap which the guide offers (fee, two 
francs), or allow yourself to be hoisted upon the 
shoulders of two guides (fee, four francs), or tum- 
ble into a sedan chair carried by the guides (fee, 
twenty-five francs), to aid you in reaching the sum- 
mit. While there you may be able to enjoy the ex- 
tensive view of Naples, Herculaneum, Pompeii and 
the Mediterranean; and you may approach the 



28 jfrom amerlca to tbc ©rtent 



mouth of the crater and see an enormous, round 
cavity filled with smoke and steam, and in which 
rocks and stones are thrown violently upward from 
the interior, and the sound of the explosions is like 
that of distant thunder. If you accept the guide's 
suggestion to hand him a franc, which he will 
throw in for ''good luck," you may afterwards sol- 
ace yourself with the thought that the franc may 
add to the material comfort of the guide, if, per- 
chance, he threw in a pebble instead of the coin. 
And when you are rushed down the cone and the 
guide, in a singularly significant tone, asks, at a 
point which is most precipitous, for some "bak- 
shish," you may be tempted to promise him all 
your worldly possessions if he will only take you 
to a place of safety. To most travelers the second 
trip is likely to prove the more enjoyable, for he 
can then plan the details of his program in advance 
and when he is in full control of all his reasoning 
faculties. 

When, safely housed in Naples, you see peering 
at you through the thick darkness of the night the 
red, burning lava slowly oozing through the side 
of the crater, you may detect in its lurid glow a 
sullen look of warning, that, sooner or later, the 
demon of the mountain will again feel too cramped 
within his narrow confines, and will burst forth and 
hurl destruction upon all who venture too near his 
lair. And if we look at the summit upon a clear 
day and with a favorable wind, we may see again 
and again a huge pillar of twhite smoke gradually 
rising above the crest, and, as its upper part ex- 
pands, it may assume a colossal shape of Apollo, 
of Venus, of Hercules, or of other classic figures 



pompeU an5 X)ce\xvi\xe 29 



which adorned the temples of Pompeii, and, as they 
slowly melt away into nothingness, we may recog- 
nize in them a fitting symbol of the departed glories 
of the "City of the Dead," 

It may not be convenient for all to cross the At- 
lantic and enter the beautiful Bay of Naples, and 
from there make the interesting trip to the un- 
earthed city of Pompeii, but, if I mistake not, 
models of a number of these ruins and restorations 
were presented to Philadelphia by the late Hon. 
John Welsh. It must have been a quarter of a cen- 
tury ago that I first saw them in Fairmount Park 
near the Green Street entrance, although afterwards 
removed to Memorial Hall. If the reader is suf- 
ficiently interested and will first breathe the at- 
mosphere of ancient Pompeii by reading Bulwer 
Lytton's old work "Last Days of Pompeii," and 
become interested in Glaucus (Bulwer's name for 
the Tragic Poet) ; in lone (whose classic face and 
figure can still be seen in the Naples Museum) ; in 
the blind flower girl Nydia; in the priests of the 
Temple of Isis; in the base, but interesting, char- 
acter of the Egyptian Arbaces, and in the gruesome 
Witch of Vesuvius, and should then visit the House 
of Pansa in Saratoga, and the model of Pompeii in 
Philadelphia, he may restore the buildings and re- 
animate the place with life, according to the caprice 
of his own fancy and imagination. And if a keen 
desire be therewith awakened to roam among the 
real ruins in the Vesuvian Bay, who will say that 
the changes of the coming century may not make 
practicable many of the seeming impossible long- 
ings of to-day? 

F. A. 



CHAPTER IV. 



IN ''the eternal city." 



NE CAN never feel for a second time the precise, 



indefinable thrill of emotion experienced in first 
approaching and entering the portals of an ancient, 
historic metropolis, like Athens, or Jerusalem, or 
Rome. This is especially true if we know there 
are to be seen not only the ancient hills and other 
surroundings and even the selfsame walls, but the 
remains of the very palaces, temples, forums, 
arches, columns, prisons, amphitheatres, tombs, 
public fountains and statues, which were daily be- 
fore the eyes of those great men whose deeds have 
stirred the world and whose lives or laws have in- 
tensely affected the march of civilization. First 
contact with such things stirs the imagination and 
enkindles the enthusiasm to the utmost. The re- 
sultant white heat gives way later to the duller 
glow, albeit, in the case of Rome, the attractions 
seem to be peculiarly perennial. 

I well remember my first approach to the Eternal 
City, just a quarter of a century ago. It was from 
the north as one usually enters Rome, and it was 
after rapturous days in Venice and similarly felici- 




irn ''Zbc :6ternal Glt^ 31 



tous ones at Milan and Florence had prepared the 
mind for almost anything in the way of historical 
associations and archaeological surprises. There 
was a strange hand beckoning onward as we passed 
old strongholds and cities, whose foundations were 
surely Pelasgiac, Etruscan and prehistoric. The 
monastery of Vallambrosa; the home of Petrarch; 
the plain of Arezzo, where, perchance, the bones 
of the elephants from Carthage used by Hannibal 
in his wars are still dug up and are called the re- 
mains of extinct mammoths; that lovely Perugia, 
whose very location sixteen hundred feet above the 
valley is an epic poem; the battleground of Fla- 
minius; and then the historic Sabine hills — how 
these scenes and others like them one by one 
trooped by as we were whirled on toward the goal 
of desire. I can recall as if it were yesterday the 
fear lest after all there was no Rome. It might be 
all a myth; or it might be that a cataclysm had 
swallowed it up, and it would be as much a lost lo- 
cation as Sodom and Gomorrah. Castelar had 
written of Venice: 'T had such an idea of the frailty 
of this beautiful Venice, continually combating the 
winds and the waters, that I feared she would dis- 
appear before I was permitted to behold her, and 
bury herself in the seashell in which she was born." 
Exactly that feeling entered the mind about Rome. 
Others had seen her, but should I? Have not many 
had this peculiar and exasperating fear; a senti- 
ment, or presentiment, or unexpressed disbelief, 
whatever you choose to call it, that the historic ''Eter- 
nal City" must only have a place in the books, and 
could not be seen and walked in and touched. You 
might go to the Tiber, but you could not see the 



32 3from amedca to tbe ©rtent 



world's former mistress. If so, you are ready for 
the charming surprise of your life when you ac- 
tually face the single, dominating, almost sublime 
spectacle of St. Peter's dome. It came up before 
me so suddenly, just when unexpected, and it was 
as if a great black orb had been swung out into 
space in a second of time against the western sky. 

There, off to my right, against the background of 
a roseate sunset, this dark, marble throne stood 
suspended above the horizon. At first a tremen- 
dous globe ; then a tower of Babel, with semi-cir- 
cular crown and above it the Cross; then, as dark- 
ness drew apace, and the crimsoned firmament be- 
came wholly blood-red, an avenging Colossus; and 
then — sudden transposition — an Angel not of 
Death but of Peace, with sword sheathed; a Senti- 
nel guarding not Rome alone but the approaching 
Night. And while I was gazing at it as a magnifi- 
cent reality, it as suddenly disappeared, for hills 
came between us, and there were precipitous rocks 
and luxuriant Roman cane as high as the train win- 
dows. And for that day I saw it no more, for pres- 
ently, and with no preceding warning, we shot 
through the Aurelian walls of the Third Century 
A. D., ran alongside of the Baths of Diocletian, and 
were soon at a dead stop in the heart of the strange, 
new . city, which is known as Modern Rome. 

On the present occasion, in 1899 — was it because 
so much has been changed during twenty-five 
years? — there were no views of St. Peter's dome, 
and none at all of the city or of its walls as we ap- 
proached. On reflection, I suspect the true reason 
for the difiference lay in the hour of the visit. We 
came in from Naples almost at midnight, and, 



•ffn *'Zbc Eternal Cit^'' 33 



therefore, the electric lights and fussy station por- 
ters and bright streets and gorgeous fountains were 
the real spectacles which ushered us into this most 
interesting city in the known w^orld. It was not so 
splendid and dignified a method of securing first 
impressions of this old capital, but it had this in its 
favor, that those who had never visited Rome be- 
fore were utterly unaware of the treasures of ruin 
which awaited their eyes on the morrow. 

And, after all, it is the more accurate and sub- 
stantial, the more vital and intense knowledge that 
one gains, when again and again he confronts the 
problems of gigantic architecture and tremendous 
historic associations such as Rome has in her keep- 
ing and goes away saturated with them as if they 
were part of his own being! Just as one can never 
go to Venice for another summer's holiday without 
loving it the more, so he cannot go to and leave 
Rome for a second time, or a fourth, without pro- 
found feelings of satisfaction that he has looked upon 
its great Forum, counted up those massive rows 
and arches of travertine which constitute its Colos- 
seum, and gone out to its Campagna, to study in 
each of these localities the abode of — Death. 

Rome has a peculiar fascination to all foreign 
peoples to-day, just as it had at the beginning of 
our Christian era. And that fascination never 
flags: the interest engendered never wearies. This 
(my fourth visit) to the streets once so delightful 
to Caesar and to Cicero was as attractive as the 
first. More so, indeed, because to learn to know 
Rome well is to begin to love it with a sort of 
deathless affection. There is something about the 
crumbling ruins and newly excavated pavements. 



34 Jfrom Bmerica to tbe ©dent 



the Colosseum and the Forum, the Via Sacra and 
Via Appia, the Arches and the Baths, in fact all 
that lie on and between the Seven Hills and on the 
surrounding Campagna, that allures and captivates 
and holds in permanent thrall. The more one reads 
of their history, the more one admires every odd 
and every ancient inscription. And yet that his- 
tory was as cruel as it was splendid, and those 
stones were as pagan as they are now pathetic. 
Why is it that there are charms in fallen greatness, 
even if the fall comes from moral rather than physi- 
cal decay? We do not care for Lucifer as an evil 
power, but we do cling with surprising tenacity to 
some of the magnificent arts with which he has 
garnished the world! 

It is a task from which I should shrink, to under- 
take to give details of this or the second visit in '99 to 
Rome. The subject is too vast. We saw and heard 
too much. We had some first-class, if not unusual 
opportunities to hear the results of latest investi- 
gations and to see under clear skies and most com- 
petent guidance the fascinating relics of Imperial 
times, but I can only suggest in outline of what 
t'hey consisted. 

Our domicile in Rome was the Hotel Marini, on 
the Via del Tritone, within shouting distance of 
the well-known, centrally-located square known as 
the Piazzi Colonna; and it was a good hotel, with 
excellent cuisine and clean apartments. Prof. Rey- 
naud, archaeologist, was our daily lecturer. It may 
be said of him that few are his equals and still 
fewer his superiors. I do not personally know of- 
a man more competent, though there are several 
other lecturers in the field. He gave us his best 



Ifn *'XLbc Eternal QiW 35 



efforts from 9.30 to 12.30 and from 2.00 to 5.30, and 
we had poured out upon us Roman history and 
modern witticisms far greater in quantity than the 
best of us can remember. And it seemed to be up- 
to-date and not at all antiquated. He is still too 
young to be a crank, and too genial to be annoyed 
at questions. If he ever comes to America, may 
his lecture audiences be large and the receipts 
abundantly satisfying. 

The first full day in Rome was the Sabbath day, 
March 12. It was, of course, the thing to do to see 
High Mass at St. Peter's, and thither many went. 
Say what one will of superior grandeur of other 
cathedrals, there is a superb finish and solid wealth 
of marbles in St. Peter's, which are most astounding. 
One can travel nearer by and see something whose 
proportions may better please the eye, especially 
if one loves the Gothic, pure or decorated; but the 
Renaissance never gave to the world a more gor- 
geous temple than this of the Holy See. One en- 
ters it each time with feelings of mere babyhood. 
Surely it was intended only for worship by giants 
and for beings of untold wealth. It is a palace, 
rather than a cathedral. And yet we saw, kissing 
the toe of St. Peter and kneeling before the High 
Altar, some of the humblest peasants of the Valley 
of the Tiber. Whatever else Rome does or does 
not do, she interposes no barrier to the worship of 
God and the Virgin to the plainest laborer, or the 
most illiterate beggar who ever entered into a tem- 
ple to pray. A few of us went again in the after- 
noon to St. Peter's, where we had the unexpected 
and unique felicity of hearing sung, at the vesper 
hour- of half-past five, the special Te Deum to e::- 



36 3From Smedca to tbe ©rient 



press the gratitude of the CathoHc world for the 
recovery of the Pope from a dangerous surgical 
operation. We stood up three-quarters of an hour 
in rather painful anxiety, because of the crush, be- 
fore the music began, but when it came it stirred us 
through and through with its solemn sweetness and 
its heavenly beauty. We saw what few Americans 
have the opportunity to see, an audience of at least 
twenty-five thousand gathered in one colossal 
structure. Everyone stood, for there are no seats 
in large Roman cathedrals, and there were men, 
women, children, babies, and even dogs in the wait- 
ing assembly; yet all were attentive, sympathetic, 
reverential. When, after the first outburst of organ 
symphony and the rising and falling cadences of 
the boy choir, the one clear, high note of the lead- 
ing soprano — a eunuch, we were to'ld, with voice 
closely approximating the feminine — came upon the 
ear, we knew at once this was what we had been 
waiting for. It was the one flash of the lightning 
that revealed all the spirits of the vasty chasm; the 
one star of the night which was the Sirius of all 
groups of suns. Mere choral strength is grand, if 
the subject is majestic and the inevitable disso- 
nances are overridden by a Niagara of sweet con- 
cords, but in a vast Cathedral like Westminster, like 
York, like Notre Dame, like St. Peter's, when the 
storm of sound is past, and the one clearer and 
higher gtnd sweeter angelic note is struck by the 
solitary singer, the effect is indescribable. You 
then feel, as if with actual touch, the hush of the 
assembly and — diviner still — the hush of your own 
soul. The "Te Deum" may have been for the 
Pope, but it ministered wholly to the spiritual in 



ffn **Zbc jeternal Qit^'' 37 



our own inner consciousness. I have heard a more 
enrapturing voice in the stillness of Westminster 
Abbey, but I never was more impressed with the 
power of the human singer to calm a multitude of 
men and women than when these high-keyed eu- 
phonies passed over thousands upon thousands 
congregated in St. Peter's. One other time during 
the service the effect was equally marked. It was 
when the whole audience joined in singing the re- 
sponses to the prayer of praise. Not a voice seemed 
to be forgetful of the words or of the moment for 
their use, and the rise and fall of those sonorous 
Latin sentences of song were like the musical wa- 
ters on the shores of a great sea. 

There are so many things in Rome to captivate 
the mind and enthrall the heart that one does not 
know where to begin to enumerate them. And 
then tastes differ. Our pathway for the two secular 
days led us to the following ancient scenes (and 
the route was planned in part as the result of the 
experience of previous visits, and in part as sug- 
gested by the better judgment of Prof. Reynaud) : 

First Day : Morning — Drive along the Appian 
Way (Paul's Way to Rome); Site of Porta Capena; 
Tomb of the Scipios; Arch of Drusus; Walls of 
Aurelian; Church of Domine Quo Vadis; Cata- 
combs of St. Sebastian; Basilica of St. Sebastian; 
Tomb of the Scipios; Arch of Drusus; Tomb of 
Caecilia Metella; view of the Alban and Sabine 
Hills, and the Campagna; Aqueduct of Claudius. 
Afternoon — The Church of San Pietro in Mon- 
torio; of St. Paul without the Walls; the graves 
of Shelley and of John Keats; the Bridge of Sub- 
licius; Temples of Fortune and Hercules; the Clo- 



afrom America to tbe (S^rlent 



aca Maxima; the Tiber; the Church of S. CeciHa 
in Trastevere; the Janiculum Hill and view there- 
from; the new Monument to Garibaldi. 

Second Day : A holiday, so that the only visit 
made was to the Colosseum. After which we saw 
a procession and the King and Queen of Italy. 

As to the last first. How did we Hke the King? 
Was he as stern as usually represented? And was 
Marguerite as beautiful? I happened to have seen 
this monarch and his wife when she was more 
nearly a bride than now. Twenty-five years work 
substantial changes on the faces of our friends; why 
should they not on the countenances of emperors? 
The Queen was always beautiful, and to-day the 
same calm, sweet dignity of her earlier years, 
while it has smoothed down to plainer tones the 
child-like graces of her youthful days, sits easily in 
place on her more pale, quiet face. But the Em- 
peror looks like another personage. His hair and 
moustache were formerly black, his face thin, his 
form undersized. But to-day his white moustache, 
iron-gray hair, bronzed cheek, heavier physique, be- 
tokened the burdens of years and the daily crosses 
of carrying in his arms the still infant kingdom of 
Upited Italy. She was in a carriage, with no spe- 
cial gorgeousness to show her rank. He sat on 
horseback, erect, the good soldier that he is. And 
both bowed continually to their subjects, amid the 
faint huzzas, which are the characteristic of Ro- 
mans in- Rome. Had they been in Naples, ot- in 
Venice, the enthusiasm would have known no 
bounds. 

But these are too modern themes to hold the at- 
tention long. Who cares for an Emperor of the 



fln ''^bc :6ternal Cit^*^ 39 



year of grace 1899, with bankrupt purse and little 
power, when one has just been out on the Via x\p- 
pia and pressed the very stones which a greater 
than an Emperor once trod, the Apostle Paul, and 
his associated band of faithful friends, whose teach- 
ings one day were to overturn the whole earth? 
That Via Appia, after the Via Capitolinus and the 
Via Sacra, was the most sacred way to the Ro- 
mans in all their dominions, for along it their 
household dead were buried. And it was the long- 
est straight road, the best also, in the world. Its 
paving stones of lava blocks are still in situ, though 
almost ail its mausoleums, like the human dust they 
held, have gone down to mix with the fields and 
make up the gray, warm earth out of which now 
blossom the daisies and bloom the corn. 

If you want the best introduction possible to 
Rome, view it from an eminence or two — the Pin- 
cian Hill, first, perhaps; then the Janiculum. And 
then start in at the Forum, pass by the Arch of 
Titus and the Colosseum, go beneath the Arch of 
Constantine,^ and so by an angular turn reach the 
Appian , Way and pursue your journey out for 
somC' miles toward the Alban hills. Shall we take 
these first-named views now just for a few mo- 
ments, and then drive swiftly along ''Paul's Road 
to Rome," and see what hasty impressions they 
leave with us? 

We stand, then, on the Pincian. It is the most 
northerly of the hills of Rome; not one of the an- 
cient seven and yet more ancient, perhaps, than 
either of the seven, because the uplift of the ear- 
liest geological epoch of this locality. It was cov- 
ered with gardens in the days of the regal period 



40 jfrom america to tbe ©rtent 



and so it is yet. Here and there are residences of 
descendants of Medician and other "barons" of the 
Middle Ages, who in vain essayed to follow the ex- 
ample of Lucullus in giving feasts to modern Cic- 
eros and Pompeys (Lucullus's Pincian villa on this 
hill was one of the sights of Caesar's day). But 
there are chiefly mimosa and shrubs, cypresses and 
pines, statues and bas-reliefs, and a charming drive- 
way. It is where on an afternoon the band plays, 
parents and children clamber for an outing and the 
rich ride to be seen of those who cannot go out 
except on foot. The Eternal City lies now mag- 
nificently at our feet, and, if the day be clear, the 
horizon does not stop until it touches the Mediter- 
ranean sea at Ostia. Two great round buildings 
stand up most prominent in the westward line of 
vision. The one is the Castle of St. Angelo, once 
a tomb of six pagan emperors. Its glories have 
long departed, but its massiveness still attracts the 
interest of passers-by. The other is the Cathedral 
of St. Peter's, a superb monument to the living 
King of Kings, the lordliest church in Christen- 
dom. Real St. Peter's, "the grandest edifice ever 
built by man, painted against God's loveliest sky," 
as Hawthorne once wrote when viewing it from 
this very mount. Beside it are piled up the irreg- 
ular, ugly, massive buildings known as the Vatican, 
wherein sits the ecclesiastical monarch whose sub- 
jects are in the ends of the earth. To the left of 
St. Peter's is the Janiculum Hill, on which we shall 
stand next. Neither was this one of the Seven, 
but, like the Pincian, it was an afternoon play- 
ground, after it served its purposes as the mythical 
home of Janus, the sungod, and after Numa, the 



irn ''Zbc Eternal Cit^^^ 4i 



first Sabine king of Rome, "like the darlings of the 
gods in the golden age, fell asleep, full of da3^s," 
and was buried there with the books of his sacred 
ordinances in a separate tomb. At the foot of the 
hill Julius Caesar had his gardens, but I doubt if he 
ever had time to enjoy a single sunset from their 
slopes. He w^as a man too busy with his con- 
quests and ''Commentaries" to enjoy himself in 
such a manner. The convent of St. Onofrio, to 
which the gentle Tasso came to die, is almost the 
only relic now to be seen upon that hill, but there 
is one of the finest drives upon it ever made in any 
city, and an equestrian monument to Garibaldi, 
which is as great a work of art as he was a leader. 

The trained eye will take in on the nearer side 
of the Tiber the buildings which form the Ghetto, 
or Jews quarter. The ancestors of these very Jews 
were brought to that precise spot as slaves by 
Pompey the Great, when he captured Jerusalem 
and dared to penetrate into the Holy of Holies. It 
is, to-day, the only thoroughly disagreeable place in 
Rome. On the right of this is the Farnese Palace, 
built of travertine quarried from the Colosseum 
and long the residence of the exiled Bourbon kings. 
That church, a little nearer, St. Andrea della Valle, 
was on the site of Pompey's Theatre, where great 
Csesar lost his life by those cowardly assassins. 
Nearer still rises the Pantheon, the site of the 
temple of all the gods in the days of Augustus 
Caesar, later a temple of justice in Hadrian's time, 
the oldest unruined building in the city, the burial 
place of Raphael, and Victor Emmanuel, the 
grandest type on the whole now existing of what 
Rome wa§ in her palmiest days— simple, solemn, 



42 jfrom amcrtca to tbe ©rlent 



audacious, splendid. The column of Marcus Au- 
relius stands there in the Piazza Colonna, tall and 
majestic, where it has stood and defied the revo- 
lutions and struggles of full seventeen hundred 
years. Down at our feet is the Porta del Popolo, 
the north gate of Rome, through which monks, 
saints, bishops, priests, statesmen, kings and vic- 
torious armies have gone out toward Gaul and the 
great north country, when Rome was pushing her 
conquests, and, later, her religion toward France 
and Eng'land and the countries of the Huns and 
Visigoths. Until the iron horse came to the city 
all travellers from the north entered through that 
gate. And can you not now see Luther there, just 
within the arch, before the obelisk which nearly 
marks the site of Nero's tomb, crying out as he 
bowed to the ground: ''I salute thee, O holy Rome; 
Rome, venerable through the blood and the tombs 
of the martyrs!" and then, on a later day, leaving 
through that same porta!, a changed man because 
of the steps of that sacred staircase in the Passion- 
ist Monks' convent, where he had risen from his 
knees to cry: 'The just shall live by faith!" His 
presence at that gate marked the gray dawn of the 
Reformation. 

That tall obelisk at our feet was at Heliopolis 
thirteen hundred years before the birth of Christ. 
Augustus Caesar brought it to the Circus Maxi- 
mus ten years before the star stood over Bethle- 
hem. There it stands, like its companion at On, 
erect, unchanged and unchangeable, solemnity silent 
through all these ages, yet witness to most re- 
markable transformations in nations, peonies, cus- 
toms and religions, The four fountains at its base 



1fn *'Zbc ^eternal Qit^^'' 43 



laugh in the sunshine and play in the darkness, but 
the old monolith above them gives no sign of weari- 
ness, no impatience, and in extreme heat or shiver- 
ing cold wears no garment save that of impenetrable 
and everlasting repose. 

But we must rest a moment. The eye and soul 
may weary. Let us drive across to that Janiculum 
Hill and, on the way, watch the peoples and their 
homes and prepare for another stretch of the vision 
and the imagination. 

A half hour it takes, and we are rested. Now 
we stand by the convent of St. Onofrio and we see 
away off to the left the Pincian Hill, where we have 
just stood. And we see now, what we could not see 
then, all the Seven Hills of ancient Rome. Some of 
them seem almost joined together. Some are so 
crowded with buildings that the demarcation between 
hill and ancient valley is scarcely perceptible. But 
there they are, counting, in order almost, from left 
to right; Quirinal, Viminal, Esquiline, Coelian, Pala- 
tine, Aventine, Capitoline. Really the city of to-day 
is upon ten hills, for the Pincian, Janiculum and 
Vatican are included within what is part of the mod- 
ern metropolis.. 

We see now many things we did not discern from 
the Pincian, but only upon one may we linger 
for a single moment. It is that miracle of slave labor, 
that mausoleum of barbarity and ferocity, that monu- 
ment to kingly power and to the deaths of martyrs, 
known wherever the history of the empire has been 
read, or the ''faith once delivered to the saints" has 
been proclaimed — the Colosseum. This afternoon is 
the very moment to see it, for it is just far 
enough away, as the sun shines upon it§ reddish trav- 



44 3From Bmenca to tbe ©dent 



ertine, to appear to be in the repose of death rather 
than in the exultation of conquest. It has had its 
day : blessed be God for that. It gave crowns to the 
saints when it made widows and orphans of the best 
people within the walls of the city of the Caesars and, 
in that way, it effected conquests by which the slain 
were the victors. But it is in ruins now and so si- 
lent. Ruined, and yet grandest of all things in de- 
cay. It looks as if Nature in one of her upheavals 
had tossed it there in harmony of arches, in poetry of 
seats and circles, in rhythms of stone and marble ; its 
daily song one of sorrow, its evening canticle one of 
death. Strange juxtaposition — the sin that was and 
the beauty that is; the horrid, iniquitous history of 
the past and the sunshine and beauty of the present. 
We look, but we do not realize what all that heaped- 
up, ruinous travertine means in the history of Rome 
and of the world. 

It is time to move out on the Via Appia. It is 
the hour when the? crowds went forth on the Roman 
holiday, when they left the Colosseum, forsook the 
many Temples, deserted the Circus Maximus and 
the Forum, and idly mused at the tombs of their 
dead friends, because they had uq better employ- 
ment betwixt the mid-afternoon and the sunset. We 
choose the time because it is the best hour for 
meditation. The sun is less heating, and, if we re- 
main long enough, the dews of evening will be 
falling as we return. 

No matter from where the Via Appia first started, 
we are sure we are upon it as we pass by the site 
of the old Porta Capena— formerly the great door 
which led out of Rome to the south, now not 
tYm ^ ruin— an4 di3c^rn before vt§ tlmt straight 



irn *'XLbc :i£ternat Cit^'' 45 



road leading on and on and up over the Alban hills 
and out of sight. When blind old Appius Claudius, 
Censor of Rome 312 B. C, laid out this road a hun- 
dred and twenty-five miles in length, and two char- 
iots wide, he founded wliat became later one of the 
mightiest forces of Roman power and splendor. 
When the Caesars took it on to Brindusium, the 
seaport of Eastern Italy, three hundred miles away, 
it was in straightness, length and general beauty 
the most renowned road of the world, and was en- 
titled to its early honorable name of ''Regina 
Viarum" (the Queen of Ways). It still stands there, 
straight as an arrow, two carriages wide, and, in 
places where men have taken the trouble to un- 
cover it, with its original pavement of lava blocks 
intact. You could not mistake it for any other 
way out of Rome if you wished. Whence did those 
lava blocks come? Or, when not lava, whence were 
the stones quarried? The adjoining country has no 
lava beds and no quarries yielding such stone. 
Wonderful engineers those old Romans were. 

And here are the ruined monuments and mauso- 
leums of which we read in Horace and Ovid, 
Martial and Cicero. For miles and miles those 
tombs rise up with marble encasement and deep- 
cut inscriptions, the first to help beautify the fash- 
ionable drive out of the Eternal City, and the sec- 
ond to glorify the revered dead. One can see, now, 
walking over those very blocks, the weary prisoner 
who had appealed to Caesar in his defense, and 
whose long journey was about to terminate. How 
his eye took in the long reach of monuments which 
lined the roadway, white and shining in the sun; 
how he read the more prominent inscriptions, the 



46 jfrom amenca to tbe ©dent 



names all unfamiliar to his ears, but the purport 
of the panegyrics such as Roman citizens had used 
even in ancient Tarsus; and how he saw in those 
inscriptions not one word referring to God, or to 
Immortality through the Crucified One! - As Rome 
has thrilled us, so a hundred times more the Rome 
of the Caesars must have thrilled him. It was the 
world's capital and in the height of its earthly 
glory. 

Off to the right are those tremendous ruins 
known as the Baths of Caracalla. Massive, pictur- 
esque, suggestive. Near by to the left various 
little churches; churches named after the martyrs; 
churches named after John the Evangelist and 
Peter, whose lives are supposed to have been some- 
how connected with scenes which were transacted 
on those very spots. Now the Tomb of the Scipios, 
and chief among them the renowned Africanus, 
who conquered Hannibal. Here the Arch of Dru- 
sus, who died in his campaign on the Rhine. We 
pass through the great Aurelian wall, with its cir- 
cular towers. We are by the entrance to the Cata- 
combs through the church of St. Sebastian! What 
a world of thought surges over us as we think of 
what those caverns of the dead were in the time 
of the living. Off to the east the long reach ot 
ruins of the Circus Maxentius. Next the beauti- 
ful and immense tomb of Caecilia Metella, ''the stern 
round tawer of other days/' visible for miles in the 
distance, for the wife of Crassus was surely rich 
enough in life to have this splendid monument after 
death. The beauty of the Via Appia is distinctly 
increasing. We emerge from behind stone walls 
lining the roadway, and there are on either hand 



fn **Zbc :eternal Cit^'' 47 



uninterrupted views of the Campagna. All the way 
to the Sabine and Alban mountains stretches out 
the Latin plain, of green sward mostly, and cross- 
ing it from the mountain springs the long and strik- 
ingly artistic Claudian aqueduct. 

Let us stop here. The fresh air invites rest. Were 
the night not so near, we might lie down upon the 
grass and meditate by the hour. But it is time to 
return in order to go to Naples, whence we have 
come. We have looked upon views as one looks 
upon a beautiful, enchanting, wonderful picture, 
with lights and shades such as rarely are on land 
or sea. We must see them more closely a little 
later in the season, when the full Spring sun is even 
brighter, and perhaps we shall then love them still 
the more. For the dear Rome of to-day like the 
wonderful Rome of history, will not lose one jot 
of its power to sway the human heart when we 
again drink of the fountains of Trevi, muse upon 
the columns and bas-reliefs of the Forum, and 
clamber over the ilex- and cypress-covered ruins of 
the Palatine. 

A. V. D. H. 




CHAPTER V. 



THE COLOSSEUM ILLUMINATED. 

HE Colosseum, unlike the Falls of Niagara, the 



1 Big Trees of California, or even the Pyramids 
of Egypt, is never disappointing at first view — neither 
in size, grandeur, nor picturesqueness. It is the one 
monument of the "Eternal City" which fascinates 
the beholder, clings to the memory and looms up 
as the rightful landmark whenever this illustrious 
city is recalled to mind. 

While its picturesque outlines are being viewed 
from the exterior, or while we stroll over the arena, 
or roam through its galleries, we care little to 
know its exact dimensions, for the time and place 
are not conducive to mathematical calculations, 
but rather- to retrospective reflection. 

The mind naturally travels back nearly two thou- 
sand years when the colossal statue of Nero and 
the reservoir of his gorgeous Golden House 
marked the spot of the present structure, and when 
Titus, upon his triumphal return from the destruc- 




^be Coloseeum fllluminatcb 49 



tion of Jerusalem, with his legions of captive Jew- 
ish slaves, completed this mammoth structure in 
which were produced scenes of public entertainment 
unprecedented in Roman history. 

By lifting the curtain which separates the dim 
Past, we can see thousands of captive slaves 
smarting under the overseer's lash; groaning and 
sweating under their heavy burdens; lifting and 
moving huge blocks of stone, first for the founda- 
tion; then for the first tier, supporting its arcades 
with half columns of the severe Doric order; then 
for the second tier, with its graceful Ionic ornamen- 
tations; then for the third tier, with its ornate Cor- 
inthian cappings; then to the dizzy height of the 
fourth tier, and providing for the support of the 
masts to sustain the immense awning; then rais- 
ing and placing into each arcade of the second 
and third tier one hundred and sixty large stat- 
ues of marble, of which surviving specirriens may 
be found in the Vatican and the Capitoline Mu- 
seum. 

What mattered it if limbs were crushed or lives 
ruthlessly sacrificed — for were not the builders only 
slaves? 

The incredibly short period in which, without 
the aid of steam engines and electric cranes, the 
main part of this gigantic structure was com- 
pleted, is suggestive of the great army of men that 
must have been utilized in its erection. And yet 
if we could look upon this building to-day, com- 
plete as it came from the hands of the builder, with 
the sculptured figures added to the symmetry of its 
curved and mammoth outlines, perhaps our indig- 
nation at Roman heartlessness would be momen- 



50 



3from Bmenca to tbe ©dent 



tarily forgotten in our rapt admiration of the struc- 
ture. 

What a commentary upon the vagaries of the 
human race when we find this structure, which 
should have been preserved for all tim^ in its 
original grandeur as the fitting symbol of Rome's 
ancient power and greatness, ruthlessly desecrated, 
robbed of its statues, stripped of its marbles, — even 
its blocks of stone stolen to build some pretentious 
palace or to commemorate some fabulous miracles; 
while the surviving blocks were recklessly mu- 
tilated to extract the paltry bits of iron which, im- 
bedded in the interior of the stone, held the blocks 
firmly together. 

What would Marc Antony have said of such 
desecration and destruction had his shade reap- 
peared in the adjoining Forum where he delivered 
his oration over Caesar's dead body? What would 
have been said by Augustus, by Brutus, by Cicero, 
by Hadrian, by Trajan, by Marcus Aurelius? 

In the mutilation and shameless destruction of 
this imposing edifice is told in unmistakable lan- 
guage the pitiable degeneracy of civic pride among 
the legatees of the Mistress of the World. 

But a visit to the Colosseum at night, during an 
illumination, is one of those rare and rich treats 
which is never forgotten. As one promenades over 
the arena, through the crowd of animated pleas- 
ure-seekers-, and amid the enlivening strains of pop- 
ular music, the serious sentiments and reflections, 
so often experienced during a visit by day, disap- 
pear and a gala spirit takes possession of the be- 
holder. In his mind are recalled hazy and confused 
impressions of the time when the arena upon which 



Zbc Colo66eum 1FlIumfnate& 51 



he is treading was the centre of intense and breath- 
less interest, and the encircling galleries crowded 
with nearly a hundred thousand Romans. 

Gradually the impressions become more vivid — 
as suddenly the entire first tier of the amphitheatre 
is bathed in rich, crimson light. Then the second 
tier follows with a grand illumination of bright 
green; and the third completes the gorgeous spec- 
tacle with a broad expanse of violet. Now rockets 
fill the open canopy with myriads of flaming and 
spluttering stars, and amid this dazzling scene of 
splendor and magnificence, the dim shapes of the 
past again assume definite form — the Emperor, the 
Senators, the Vestal Virgins, many of them clad in 
robes of royal splendor and decked with costly 
jewels, are seen in the Podium or foremost row of 
seats. Farther up are the knights, the plebeians, 
the women — all thirsting with a strangely horrible, 
infernal thirst, for the flow of blood, and ready to 
shout their approval at the sacrifice of human or 
animal life. 

And upon the arena we may imagine the enter- 
tainment to open with a grand naval combat; then 
with kaleidoscopic swiftness the scene is trans- 
formed into a wild jungle in which lions, tigers and 
elephants suddenly appear and fill the building with 
cries of rage and pain as they tear each other to 
pieces. 

Again the scene shifts, and two gladiators with 
short swords fight a duel, in which both are mor- 
tally wounded, but who, throwing away their 
swords, expire in each other's arms in a final fra- 
ternal embrace. Then enter the Retiartii, who en- 
tangle their opponents in nets thrown with the left 



52 afrom america to tbe ^vlcnt 



hand, defending themselves with tridents in the 
right, and other gladiators show their skill fighting 
unchained lions and tigers. Again the scene 
changes, and chariots, 'drawn by spirited horses, 
dash around the arena from opposite directions, 
and their drivers pinion their competitors with 
heavy lances. To stimulate the debauched thirst 
of the spectators female gladiators now redden the 
sands of the arena with the life blood of their rivals; 
and as the taste for blood becomes stronger hun- 
dreds of gladiators fight at one time, until nearly 
all are lifeless or disabled". Then a hundred or more 
helpless and innocent Christian martyrs are thrust 
forward to be torn to pieces by wild beasts, or, by 
way of diversion, despatched with arrows. And so, 
in this gorgeous illumination of red and green and 
purple and the downpouring of myriads of bright 
stars, we may see, in our mind's eye, new scenes 
of butchery go on, and on, and on during the one 
hundred days of Roman blood-drinking and 
blood-feasting and blood-gormandizing, until, sud- 
denly, the bright illumination begins to fade — the 
colors blend into indefinite hues, then disappear al- 
together. Then follows a blackness so dense, so 
awful by the sudden contrast, as to suggest that 
outraged Nature, no longer able to stand the sight 
of this inhuman carnage, this heartless brutality, 
this infernal thirst for human blood, had suddenly 
swept from existence all the participants in the 
dreadful crime, and, under its cloak of impenetrable 
darkness, had consigned such scenes to hopeless 
oblivion. 

But as the black and dense smoke from the ex- 



^Tbe Col066eum IFlluminateD 53 



tinguished lights gradually lifts and clears away; 
and as the silent and unpeopled galleries of the am- 
phitheatre again reveal their picturesque outlines in 
the soft and subdued light of the stars and moon, we 
may interpret this peaceful picture to say: 

''Under the new realm of the lowly Nazarene 
these ancient scenes of human debauchery may be 
remembered — but will never be repeated." 

F. A. 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE APPROACH TO ATHENS. 



O APPROACH Athens for the first time is an 



1 event. Our own party came, not by the good 
old way of the ^gean Sea and the Piraeus but in a 
newer way, for it seemed more convenient to avail 
ourselves' of the railroad from Patras. And we found 
that newer way so delightful that now it would be 
hard to convince us that any other could have 
pleased us better. 

Late in the evening of the fifteenth of March a 
comfortable Austrian Lloyd steamship had taken 
us on board at Brindisi. The vessel's name, "The 
Poseidon," that is, "The Neptune," seemed of 
happy augury to passengers who should desire 
Olympian company; and that hoary old sea god 
himself, trident and all, could not have introduced 
us more comfortably into this entrancing region. 
Early the next morning at Santa Quarenta, and a 
little later at Corcyra, we took on board a motley 
assortment of Turks, Greeks, and Albanians, on 
their way to Constantinople. They proceeded to 
convert' our steerage deck into a stage for a sort 
of opera boufife performance, which lasted day and 
night till the end of the voyage. We never tired 
of watching these strange specimens of humanity. 
It occurred to us that the confusion of tongues at 
Babel, while it may have burdened human life with 




54 



Zbc Spproacb to atbens 55 



certain elements of inconvenience, has contributed 
vastly to its picturesqueness. What man under- 
standing the English tongue could have contrived, 
or would have consented, to adorn himself with 
those unspeakable costumes, or to have put himself 
and his family to bed with such charming indiffer- 
ence to the scrutiny of a shipful of interested spec- 
tators? Nor shall we soon forget the careworn 
Moslem, who, with boards and bales and pieces of 
the ship, constructed on the corner of the deck a 
miniature seraglio for his three wives. 

But these modern interests were soon forgotten 
in the host of classical associations. In the harbor 
at Corcyra it seemed to us the water had hardly 
quieted down from its churning by the old Corin- 
thian galleys. A little later at a lonely spot on the 
shore of that island we were half persuaded that we 
had caught a glimpse of poor shipwrecked Ulysses 
shivering in the bushes after his long bath, and 
wishing that Nausicaa and the other maidens had 
chosen some other spot for their game of ball. Thai 
night even our dreams took an epic coloring when 
the good ship ''Poseidon" carried us silently past 
Ulysses's island kingdom of Ithaca. 

Ah, those old Greeks! how they have made cap- 
tives of us all, shaping according to their own fancy 
the imaginations of a hundred generations of duller- 
witted men and women. That was the bright child- 
hood of our race, and every later age has looked 
back to it with a painful sense of something lost; 
even as every middle-aged man will look back to 
the brighter dreams of his own childhood. 
''Heaven lies around us in our infancy," the man 
beholds that "splendid vision die away, and fade 



56 jfrom Bmenca to tbe ©dent 



into the light of common day." A journey to 
Greece, however, lights up that splendid vision for 
a little while, making children and poets of us all. 

The next morning when our friendly sea god 
discharged us on the pier at Patras, we found our- 
selves assisting, as the French would say,' at a sun- 
rise which might have served for the original of 
Guido's "Aurora." The ride by rail along the south- 
ern shore of the Corinthian Gulf is a thing of 
beauty; and, judging from the rate of the train, one 
might hope that it would continue to be "a. joy for- 
ever." Hour after hour, with slight changes of po- 
sition, we found ourselves looking across the strip 
of blue water on the splendors of snowy Parnassus, 
with the lower range of Helicon making off to the 
southeast. In that dark ravine to the left lies the 
awful chasm of Delphi, whence in olden times 
came forth the oracles to shape the destinies of 
nations. It was easy to make oneself believe that 
Apollo and the Muses had never been dislodged 
from these their ancient haunts, and that any visitor 
of gentle spirit might still be welcomed to the ce- 
lestial company. Living in such a country, sailing 
on those blue waters, looking always on those 
mountains, who could not write Iliads and carve 
Aphro'dites and build Parthenons? 

Mingled with these impressions of beauty and 
awe were others, pleasantly humorous. The mod- 
ern Gre,ek soldier or peasant with his slender white 
leggings and frilled petticoat; in the villages the 
signs of ''cobbler," ''barber," "wineseller," all in- 
congruous in characters of ancient Greek; our cour- 
ier's blushes when our fair Quakeress, laudably de- 
moi\^ a§ always of Earning the customs of each 



Zbc Bpproacb to Btbens 



57 



new people, amazed the modest youth with the ques- 
tion: "Do you kiss on both cheeks as they do in 
Italy?" 

Our noonday rest included a drive of some four 
miles to the site of ancient Corinth. It is a dead 
and buried city, for on the pleasant hillside scarce- 
ly a sign remains of that prosperous and populous 
community which was long the commercial metrop- 
olis of Greece. Members of the American School 
at Athens have been at work here uncovering a 
little section of ancient street pavement, and not 
far away stand the massive Doric columns of a very 
ancient temple; but except for these the whole great 
city seems to have faded like a vision, leaving not 
a rack behind. 

The memory of that city, however, will not fade 
while the world stands, for in it a man once lived 
and labored a year and six months; not a Greek, 
nor a worshipper in their heathen temples, but one 
who had been cheered by a vision telling him that 
*^the Lord had much people in that city." Out of 
its frivolous money-seeking population this apostle 
drew together a church of Jesus Christ; and to them 
he afterwards wrote those epistles which now have 
long outlasted all the wealth and splendor of Cor- 
inth. ^ 

Soon after leaving the Corinth station the rail- 
road crosses the new Isthmian Canal by a lofty 
bridge. The canal admits vessels only of moderate 
draught, but is itself a work of great beauty; a deep, 
smooth-walled cleft, three miles long and straight 
as an arrow, joining the two blue gulfs east and 
west. After crossing the bridge the road winds up 
the steep mountain side, skirting the Saronic Gulf 



SB 



jfrom amerfca to tbe ©rient 



and the Bay of Eleusis, looking out over the isl- 
ands of ^gina and Salamis. The prospect is of 
wonderful beauty; and for historic interest where 
else could one hope to match it? If our morning 
ride had been introducing us to the old Greek 
mythology, these closing hours of the day were 
to immerse us in Greek history. On the western 
coast we had seen the more distant outposts of 
Hellenic civilization, but here on the east, among 
these friendly points and islands, every Greek could 
feel himself at home. 

That long and beautiful island, peaceful in the 
light of the setting sun, was Salamis, refuge of the 
Athenian people when the Persian hosts occupied 
and burned their city. Here in the Bay was fought 
that most famous of all sea fights. From our com- 
fortable seat in the car we could almost look upon 
the spot where the cowardly Persian sat on the 
hillside that he might see his thousand ships make 
an end of these exasperating Greeks and their poor 
little fleet. But that day the stars in their courses - 
were to fight against Xerxes; and by nightfall 
the wrecks of the Persian galleys were lining these 
shores, and the craven emperor, like a whipped 
cur, was running home toward Persia. 

The Athenians, too, were making ready to go 
home; for now the time had come for ^schylus to 
write his plays, and for Phidias to adorn his Par- 
thenon. JBut it does not fall to my pen to describe 
the wonderful city which grew up out of the terror 
and triumph of the Persian wars, the Athens of 
the age of Pericles. The subject of this chapter is 
only the approach to the city, the Vestibule to the 
Temple, the Propylsea. W. R. R. 



CHAPTER VII. 



ATHENS. 

THE PRECEDING chapter indicates that the 
journey from Corinth to Athens is an in- 
tensely interesting one in some ways. The 
railway, after crossing the Isthmus, follows 
the Gulf of ^gina, and in a number of 
places lies on the very edge of a precipice 
overhanging the water and many feet above it. 
For some distance before reaching Athens a love- 
ly shore road runs along by the track. But the 
country scenery generally is rather disappointing 
with the exception of the mountains, for the foliage 
is scanty, the trees being mostly evergreens and 
even these are not abundant. The small black cur- 
rant for drying is largely cultivated, but the ground 
is parched for lack of rain — ''no rain, no trees," as 
our excellent courier said. That courier, by the way, 
Mr. Moatsos, is safely to be recommended as among 
the very best in Greece. 

We arrived at night so that all city views must 
be left to the imagination until the next day. We 
put up at the Hotel des Etrangers and found it ex- 

59 



6o ifrom Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



cellent and comfortable. Next morning we found 
Athens to be a surprisingly clean, trim, large, com- 
pact, well-built, flourishing city, worthy even in 
its modern improvements of its splendid heritage. 
But, of course, the ancient was what took us to 
Athens, and the first object of interest we visited, 
therefore, was the Stadium where the ancient ath- 
letic games have been revived. Three years ago, 
at the first celebration of the games since their re- 
newal, the victors in seven events were our own 
countrymen. At that time the slope was built up 
with wooden seats, painted white, the effect at night 
being strikingly beautiful. These seats have since 
been removed and marble ones are built into the 
slope for at least half the distance up the hill. In 
time it will be finished to the top and will seat sixty- 
seven thousand people; the Roman Colosseum, it 
may be remembered, seated only fiTty thousand. 
The effect of the white marble in the brilliant sun- 
shine is dazzling. A wealthy Englishman is said 
to have effected the restoration. 

Hadrian's Gate was not far away. This ancient 
triumphal arch was erected by the emperor be- 
tween the old city and the new city which he built. 
These combinations of Greek and Roman remains 
are interesting, but at times confusing. 

Just beyond this arch rise the fourteen Corinthian 
columns, being all that remain of the beautiful 
Temple of Jupiter. One of these columns, which 
lies just as it has fallen, gives us an excellent idea 
of the manner in which the sections of the shafts 
were joined, and the capital decorated with the 
graceful acanthus leaf does not suffer under this 
close inspection. This Temple, which was begun 



Btben6 



6i 



by Pisistratus, was not finished until Hadrian's 
time, nearly eight hundred years later. 

The temples and monuments in Athens appeal to 
us particularly because of their graceful outlines 
and perfect proportions. When you come upon 
them the delight is like that of meeting a familiar 
face that you have grown to love; their lines have 
become so well known by photographs and de- 
scriptions. 

The monument of Lysicrates, erected to celebrate 
his victory in a musical contest, is a lovely little 
column decorated with Ionic pillars and surmount- 
ed by a pedestal that in former times held a tripod, 
which gave the name to the corner of the street — 
the Place of the Tripod. It is remarkably well pre- 
served, owing to its having been enclosed within 
the walls of a monastery during the Middle Ages. 

On the side of a very barren hill in a dismal 
rock is a cavern closed by a grating. Tradition 
calls this the Prison of Socrates, and says that here 
he drank the hemlock. There is some doubt about 
this, however. Descending the hill toward the 
Acropolis, the next stopping-place was of a very 
different character — the theatre of Dionysos. Here, 
many centuries ago, the poets contended with each 
other on the stage and the priests and nobles sat in 
the rows of marble seats, interested listeners. There 
are many fragments of hideous satyrs, and the god 
Pan, with his satanic leer, which in their original 
places must have lent a horrible fascination to the 
scene. The Roman Theatre, just beyond, still re- 
tains the high walls behind the stage, which served 
as background for the actors, and there are two 
enormous stone jars perfectly preserved, whose 



62 jfrom Bmedca to tbe ©rfent 



place was just beneath the front of the stage to in- 
tensify the sound of the voices. 

The Theseum is a beautiful Doric temple, the best 
preserved of any of the Grecian temples, and it gives 
us a splendid idea of the grandeur of these build- 
ings in their prime. The cella walls have been tam- 
pered with, but most of the columns are intact. The 
frieze on the cella walls were reliefs depicting the 
battle of Theseus with the Athenians and Lapithse 
against the Centaurs. 

The ancient burial ground of Athens is an in- 
tensely interesting spot. There are some beautiful 
tomb-stones in high relief representing the 
departing spirit bidding good-bye to the sor- 
rowing relatives. They are dignified and full 
of sentiment, and one can fairly feel the lingering 
touch of the hands clasped as if loath to part. A 
large and valuable collection of these stones have 
been removed to the museum. The Temple of the 
Winds, also called the Lantern of Diogenes, is a 
small octagonal structure, with a sculptured frieze 
composed of allegorical figures of the gods of the 
winds on its eight sides. It is an exceedingly curi- 
ous bit of architecture. The lines of the sun-dial 
are still visible on its walls and within are the re- 
mains of a water clock. A pyramidal roof held orig- 
inally a revolving brazen Triton, which indicated 
the direction of the wind by pointing with his staff 
to one of the figures of the eight winds represented 
on its walls. 

If the approach to the Acropolis is made from 
the rear the first impression is one of disappoint- 
ment, but that feeling is all changed when, on com- 
ing round the base of the hill, the beautiful Pro- 



Btbene 



63 



pylaea, with the Parthenon on the right and the 
Krectheum on the left, are seen in all their glory. 
The eye is at once caught and held by the beautiful 
coloring, so much richer than the color in our own 
old buildings. The iron in the marble has given 
to it the loveliest of golden tints, which against the 
blue of the sky is perfectly fascinating. The nearer 
the approach to the Propylsea, (which is Ionic and 
Doric combined), the deeper becomes the impres- 
sion of its beauty; and the wonderful part of it is 
that all the proportions tend to increase the ap- 
pearance of lightness and grace in spite of its im- 
mense size. The lovely little temple of the Nike 
Apteros to the right of the Propylaea as you ap- 
proach has been restored and must in its original 
state have been even more attractive with the 
frieze of graceful victories which are now in the 
Acropolis Museum. The Parthenon was built by 
Ictinus and Callicrates and adorned by Phidias and 
was finished after years of labor in 438 B. C. We 
can study in the Museum the sections of the won- 
derful sculptures of the east and west pediment; 
one representing the birth of Minerva and the 
other the contest of Minerva and Neptune over the 
guardianship of the city. Most of the originals of 
these wonderful figures are in the British Museum, 
London, where they are known as the Elgin Mar- 
bles. Parts of the cella frieze are here picturing the 
Pan-Athenaic procession and some of the metopes. 
Some of the frieze and many of the metopes are 
still in their original position. A large scaffolding 
erected m the west portico detracts from its beauty, 
but on the other hand it gives to the visitor the op- 
portunity to study the cella frieze at close range. 



64 3From amertca to tbe ©dent 



We climbed this scaffolding and our eager interest 
in the marbles was well rewarded. 

The Erectheum, completed in 409 B. C, with its 
magnificent porch held our attention for a long 
time. The caryatides seem so full of strength, and 
to the life of long ago we were carried; to the time 
of Pericles and Phidias; and we lived over again 
the scenes enacted many and many a year on this 
sacred hill. The numerous bits of columns and 
friezes, capitals and statues lying about on the 
ground created in us the desire for another miracle 
like that in the Valley of Dry Bones, so that these 
beautiful remains might assume again the places 
from which they have fallen. Just irffagine the 
grandeur of the spectacle when the Pan-Athenaic 
procession of youths and maidens wended their way 
up the hill between the pure white columns of the 
Propylaea over the center of the Acropolis and 
round to the east front. Picture that wonderful hill 
with its matchless temple, the Parthenon, dazzling 
white except the frieze, which was painted in the 
richest and most harmonious colors; its equally 
marvelous Erectheum; and the intervening space 
crowded with statues; all presided over and guarded 
by the colossal statue of Minerva. 

Very near the Acropolis with only a narrow de- 
pression between the two hills lies Mars Hill, inter- 
esting to us because of Paulas connection with it in 
his masterly address to the Athenians delivered on 
the spot. Of course we heard read here by one of 
our fellow-travellers, first in Greek and then in Eng- 
lish, the wonderful oration as narrated in the seven- 
teenth chapter of Acts. 

To the south of Mars Hill and southwest of the 



Photo, by Miss Foster. 

CORINTH-REMAINS OF TEMPLE OF JUPITER (Page 57). 




Photo by Rev. Dr. Richards. 
ATHENS-THE PARTHENON, FROM THE SOUTHWEST. 
(Page 63). 





Photo, hy Miss Coit. 
ATHENS— ONE OF THE ANCIENT STREET TOMBS (Page 62). 



Btbene 



65 



Acropolis is the Pnyx, where Demosthenes, Solon, 
Themistocles, Pericles and Aristides must have 
stood to address their fellow-citizens. We stood 
upon it with complex thoughts, not untinged with 
sadness that all these old voices were forever 
silent. 

The country all through Greece is alive with his- 
toric landmarks. Wherever you turn the ground 
is sacred to some battle or memorable event, and, 
while they took place so many centuries ago, they 
seem scarcely more than a few years past as you 
visit and view the spot. We took, for instance, the 
thirty mile drive to Marathon. The first part 
was dusty and monotonous. The grass was brown 
and scanty and there were few trees, although dur- 
ing the last fifteen miles there was much more 
foliage and the ground was well-covered with vege- 
tation. But the country is pretty. Few habitations 
were in sight from the carriage road, which passes 
between Hymettus and Pentelicus, pleasing in out- 
line but almost destitute of verdure. The first 
glimpse of Marathon is certainly satisfactory and 
the pleasant impression does not fade on a nearer 
approach. The curve of the beach is fine, and the 
plain stretching back several miles to the moun- 
tains gives room for an ideal battle ground. In the 
midst of the plain and the only elevated land within 
a radius of several miles rises the mound, where the 
one hundred and ninety-two Athenians were buried 
after the memorable battle. At one time there was 
a marble lion on this mound, but it was carried 
away and now stands guard before the entrance to 
the Arsenal at Venice. 



66 3from Bmertca to tbe ©dent 



"And this is Marathon— this sweep of plain 

Austere and treeless ! yet *t is glorious ground, 
Albeit naught save one unfeatured mound 

Stands monument to the undaunted slain ; 

But at the sight the old heroic stiain 
Moves in the breast as at some martial sound." 

The finest view to be had of the city of Athens is 
from the top of Lycabettus. It is a pretty stiff 
cHmb there, but we were well repaid for attempting 
it. There is just room enough on the summit of 
this sugar-loaf hill for a little Greek chapel dedi- 
cated to St. George. As we ascended the street, 
cries from the city followed us, growing fainter and 
fainter until they all blended into one indistinct 
murmur. The men and horses moving about be- 
low us appeared like ants and it was curious to 
watch the evolutions of the cavalry in the barracks 
far below. From this point the view is glorious; 
Hymettus, celebrated for its honey, to the south- 
east, and Pentelicus, renowned for its marble, to 
the northeast; and before us, as we faced the west, 
the Gulf of TEgina and the Island of Salamis ; the 
Piraeus nestling in the curve of the shore; the road 
stretching out toward Eleusis; and directly beneath 
us was the city, with Mars Hill, the Pnyx and, last 
but not least, the ever-conspicuous Acropolis. 

Another pleasure which we thoroughly enjoyed 
was a trip to the Acropolis by moonlight. All the 
temples are then perfect. The columns of the 
Propylsea s,eem built of clouds, as if a slight breeze 
would blow them away. They are ghostly in their 
lightness and held us spellbound. This is the time 
to dream of past glories. But how closely allied is 
the sublime to the ridiculous and the sordid. Here 
were men selling antiques near the Acropolis, with 



atbens 



67 



their wares spread out along the wall leading up to 
the entrance. All grand and sacred places in Orien- 
tal countries are profaned by venders or beggars. 

Athens is commonplace as far as national cos- 
tumes are concerned. We saw a few of the Albanians, 
with their full white skirts containing forty yards of 
cloth and the blue jacket heavily embroidered in 
gold. These skirts are often worn, however, un- 
der a very ordinary overcoat. Some of the men, 
too, wear the full, baggy trousers which look like 
gymnasium suits. The lack of any distinctive dress 
makes Athens seem much like an American city, 
judged simply from its people. In order to see any 
costumes characteristic of the country it is neces- 
sary to visit the villages on a feast day, for they are 
more universally worn on these occasions. 

There is an odd custom of posting funeral notices 
on the walls along the streets. Burial follows soon 
after death and this seems to be the quickest way to 
inform the relatives and friends of the decease. 

There are several pretty Greek churches in 
Athens, one especially having interesting wall-paint- 
ings, the altar-piece being an exquisite Madonna. 
The Greek service is much like the Latin, the ritual 
being even more elaborate and very impressive. 

How hard it is to bid good-bye to anything which 
can become in so short a time such an object of 
love as the Parthenon. However, the good-bye is a 
lingering one, for all the way to the Piraeus this 
one fascinating relic of antiquity kept appearing and 
disappearing, and even after boarding the steamer 
and long after pushing off into the harbor for 
Egypt, it still seemed to be saying a long farewell. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



ELEUSIS. 

V/ ES ! we must needs see Eleusis. And so, after an 
* early luncheon, four started on that drive from 
Athens, and it proved to be one long to be remem- 
bered, for the beauties of the Present and all the 
mysteries of the Past were combined to lend to the 
enchantment. Twelve miles over a smooth cause- 
way from city to town, and yet so thoroughly ''sep- 
arated by the pass of Daphne, that not one acre of 
the territory of Eleusis can be seen from Athens, 
nor of Athens from Eleusis." As Mahaffy has 
pointed out in his charming ''Rambles and Studies 
in Greece," our ideas of Greece undergo a great 
change when we view the rugged mountain peaks 
and passes, after years of familiarity with the flat 
map. 

We passed out from Athens through the ancient 
Dipylon, or double gateway, and drove along the 
Street of the Tombs, the only one extant in Greece. 
The modern road is said to correspond pretty close- 
ly with the ancient, which was lined most of the 
68 



:E(eu6i0 



69 



way with tombstones. Traces of the latter are 
still visible. We went by a most modern-looking 
powder-mill, and a lunatic asylum, and came to the 
Convent of Daphne, where we rested our horses, 
and went through the old buildings. I was most 
interested in the Byzantine Mosaics, on a gold 
ground, especially the figure of Christ in the dome 
of the church. Farther on, the Bay of Eleusis lay 
before us, and the way became more and more 
beautiful as w^e reached the blue, ''the deeply, dark- 
ly, beautifully blue" sea. Driving close along its 
shore, on our left lay the sea ; while to the right 
were the two salt lakes, called Rheitoi, where for- 
merly the priests alone were privileged to fish. 
These lakes are fed from natural springs, and there 
is a continual outflow from them into the sea. No 
explanation seems to be given of the phenomenon. 

Soon Eleusis breaks upon our vision, now simply 
a poor, fever-haunted village, with little over a 
thousand inhabitants. It was the home of ^schylus, 
the earliest of the Greek tragedians, but the real in- 
terest centers round the ruins of the great temple, 
where the Eleusinian Mysteries were celebrated. 
As we neared them, and alighted from our car- 
riage, disappointment drifted down upon us, as we 
realized that what was once so grandly imposing, 
had so utterly perished. Could we have but beheld 
this scene in its great glory! We entered what re- 
mains of the Outer Propylsea, or gateway 
with its exquisite marble steps, floor, and 
broken columns, passed to the Lesser Propy- 
Isea, and so entered the vast Audience room, 
around which ranged tier after tier of seats cut into 
the hillside, parts of them being solid rock, form- 



?o jfrom flmedca to tbe ©dent 



ing a half-circle, where the people assembled to wit- 
ness the sacred rites. What a wondrous sight it 
must have been, those solemn torchlight proces- 
sions, winding to and through those gateways! 

In front of this amphitheatre was the Inner Tem- 
ple, where the priests guarded the mysteries. This 
is now in complete ruins, except a few remaining 
columns and scattered monuments. The mysteries 
were first celebrated in honor of Isis in Egypt, 
where the Greeks, especially the Eleusinians, are 
supposed to have received their ideas for the wor- 
ship of Ceres and Proserpina. This mode of honor- 
ing their divinities is believed to have lasted eigh- 
teen hundred years, the same object, seemingly, al- 
ways in view, namely, to bring before the people 
the idea of reward and punishment in a future state; 
Cicero says: 'Tn the mysteries we perceived the 
real principles of life, and learned not only how to 
live happily, but to die with a fairer hope." Says 
Plato: 'Tt was the end and design of initiation to 
restore the soul to that state from whence it fell, as 
from its entire native seat of perfection." Every- 
thing tended to show the necessity of virtue and 
purity, but, as it was not lawful to divu}ge the mys- 
teries, writers were kept from giving any descrip- 
tions, by which we might have gained a clearer 
knowledge of these remarkable rites. 

We found much of interest in the little museum, 
where is a collection of fragments of pillars, col- 
umns and capitals, a few reliefs of Triptolemus re- 
ceiving the seed corn and being taught the use of 
the plough, etc., beside statues of the priestesses 
and of Ceres. All were shown with evident pride 
by a very plain, motherly janitress, who brought to 



71 



our minds many and various legends from the old 
mythology, particularly our sympathy with Ceres, 
or Demeter, in the long search for the daughter, 
Proserpina. It was Proserpina's fatal indulgence in 
that sweet pomegranate which prevented her re- 
lease from Pluto, who allowed her simply to spend 
two-thirds of her time with her mother and to dwell 
the remainder of the time in the underground abode 
of her husband. Like the seed-corn in the ground, 
it was typical of the annual decay and the revival of 
nature, and showed the nearness these ancients at- 
tained to the truth that has been so comforting to 
many: "Except a grain of wheat fall into the ground 
and die, it abideth alone; but, if it die, it bringeth 
forth much fruit." 

Since 1882 the Archaeological Society has brought 
to view in this spot many bits of marvelous beauty, 
besides laying bare the entire Temple. We wan- 
dered about exploring for ourselves, and feasted 
our eyes on the extensive view of the beautiful bay 
of Salamis. Both sea and sky were gloriously blue, 
with the mountains round about covered with the 
purplish haze, so characteristic of Grecian scenery. 
It made a vision too fair for mere words to picture. 
After taking a peep into the Sanctuary of Pluto 
(Hades) a dark grotto in the rocky hillside, we 
were obliged, wholly against our will, to leave this 
most fascinating spot, and turn our faces toward 
Athens. As we drove by the sea, it was suggested 
we should walk along its pebbly beach. This we 
did, and, of course, were not content until we had 
had a race, after which we returned to the carriage, 
and soon our road wound away from the bay, but 
for a long, long way we looked wistfully back upon 



72 



jfrom amedca to tbe ©dent 



it, as the setting sun added to it new glories. When 
once we lost sight of it, and the ever-changing 
afterglow faded, and ''twilight drew her curtain, and 
pinned it with a star," we began to realize the truth 
of the statement that ''there is a combined farness 
and nearness, which is characteristic of most neigh- 
boring cities in Greece." 

F. G. F. 



CHAPTER IX. 



THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES. 

IT WAS at the Piraeus, the seaport of Athens,, and 
seven miles from it, that there was accorded to 
several of us a view of King George of Greece and 
his beautiful wife, Queen Olga. He was tall, straight 
as an arrow and plainly dressed as an ordinary gen- 
tleman; she was in mourning. He is fifty-four 
years old; she a few years his junior. With them 
were various members of the family, including the 
Crown Prince. They were going on board a yacht 
in the harbor for a day's outing. 

The 'Trince Abbas" of the Khedivial Line of 
steamers arrived from Constantinople on time and 
pushed out about five P.M. for Alexandria. The 
Mediterranean was well dimpled, for the ocean air 
was breezy and we had fine views until dark of the 
bold headlands of Greece and the Troezenian moun- 
tains. Next morning was magnificent — the sea 
rolling and sparkling and the air just cool enough 
to be full of comfort. The Island of Crete came 
into view with its snowy-capped peaks and present- 

73 



74 



Jfrom America to tbe ©rlent 



ed an even more lovely mountain sight than the 
Grecian landscape of the previous evening. By ten 
o'clock next day, forty-one hours after leaving the 
Piraeus, we steamed into Alexandria harbor, and 
found we were distinctly in the Summer Land of 
Egypt; the air as balmy as in Southern Florida in 
February, and yet with enough breeze to gently 
ruffle the water. 

This was Egypt, but it had no unique appear- 
ance. Alexandria is a modern and prosperous city; 
one must go to Cairo to see the older Egypt. We 
had all day to spend on shore and improved the 
time by a drive to Pompey's Pillar of 296 A.D.; 
then along the bank of a canal to the large private 
park of Nubar Pasha, to see rubber-trees, mag- 
nolias, palms and various tropical trees and flowers; 
and then through the city. We saw, of course, some 
strange scenes, but they were few in number and 
will be better commented upon in the Chapter on 
'The Streets of Cairo," in which city real Oriental- 
ism exhibits itself to perfection. 

At Alexandria Mr. D. N. Tadros, who was to 
be our Palestine conductor, came on board, and 
we at once felt at home under his sympathetic and 
kindly eye. 

The twin boat to the "Prince Abbas," called the 
*'Tewfek Rabbani," was to take us to Jaffa and to 
it we were transferred about four o'clock. On both 
boats the, rooms were clean and comfortable and 
the service and meals excellent. 

Port Said was reached before nine o'clock next 
morning, and again the whole day was allowed us 
in which to visit that city, near the mouth of the 
Svif^ Canal^ and, as it \ya§ Svmday, to go to church 



ttbe Xant) of tbe ipblltettnee 



75 



and to rest. It was a hot day; the mists gave a 
spectral appearance to the morning, but the after- 
noon was clear as crystal and the evening bright 
with moonlight. Port Said, more than Alexandria, 
was so wholly modern that little else is to be said 
of it. We left it at half-past eight in the evening, 
with full anticipations of making the port of Jaffa 
next morning. 

Jaffa came in sight about nine o'clock. First we 
saw the low reach of w^hite sand to the south of 
the city, then the city itself, on a hillside, looking 
much like any other stone-built collection of 
houses, with flat roofs and a few short, square, tow- 
ers and one prominent church steeple. The pro- 
cess of getting on shore was so interesting, novel 
and ludicrous, not to say dangerous, that it gave us 
new zest for the whole Palestine tour. The sea 
was smooth enough until the vessel anchored near 
the rocks in the harbor and then the swells be- 
came apparent, especially when, at a certain notice, 
a score of long, w^ide boats, manned with from 
eight to ten rowers each, pulled out from the shore 
and twisted through and between the rocks in a 
race to reach our steamer first. How those brawny 
Arabs did pull and yell and strive to pass each 
other in the onset. They surrounded the steamer 
and each vociferously yelled for victims. We knew 
from the flag which boat was looking for us and 
permitted ourselves to be dropped down into it, 
one by one, as a bag of ballast might be dropped 
overboard. It was fun for the Arabs, but conster- 
nation for our ladies, one of whom sprained her 
ankle in the descent. Then the nine fellows who 
made up our boat's crew rowed for the shore, 



76 



jfrom Bmerfca to tbe ©dent 



again racing as if their lives depended upon it. 
The camera, in the illustration, has caught them in 
the feat exactly as they performed it. The broad, 
deep chests of these men would have filled the av- 
erage American gymnasium instructor with envy. 
If, when Jonah sailed from this port for Tarshish, 
the sailors in whose company he found himself were 
as stalwart as these rowers, is it any wonder he 
made so little opposition to being cast overboard? 
Resistance would have been useless. 

After landing at JafYa, we walked a block or two 
to the traditional house of ''Simon the Tanner" 
(Acts 9: 43), saw the old tan vat, stood on the roof, 
entered the interior, and then took carriages for the 
Hotel du Pare, where a royal dinner was served. 
Its grounds were full of tropical trees and flowers, 
parrots and monkeys, and a noble orange grove 
was near it; and we left it after dinner with the 
feeling that it and Jaffa would bear a several days* 
visit rather than this of a few hours. 

From Jaffa we took railroad and crossed the an- 
cient Land of the Philistines. It requires four hours 
to reach Jerusalem, forty miles away — an average 
speed of ten miles an hour. This is occasioned by 
the ''mountains of Benjamin,'' which are to be as- 
cended, and in the midst lies the "Holy City," the 
ancient and present guardian mother of the whole 
land of Palestine. The railway was opened in 1892 
and, though an innovation, no traveler finds fault 
with it. We saw from the car windows almost as 
much and as well as we could have seen in a car- 
riage or on horseback. A Baldwin locomotive and 
European cars, with compartments opening into 
each other, moved off at two o'clock on precise 
time and landed us in Jerusalem on the minute. 



Zbc XanD of tbe ipbiUatinee 77 



The most beautiful sight of this whole day was 
the Plain of Sharon, here fully twelve, and farther 
south thirty, miles wide, extending from Jaffa and 
the seacoast on the west to the mountains on the 
east; and it is, perhaps, fifty miles long from Mount 
Carmel on the north to Beersheba on the south. 

Here the Philistines dwelt, and its great fertility 
and loveliness made a deep impression upon us. It 
called up questions, then and especially later, when 
we saw the remarkable barrenness of the hill coun- 
try, why it was that those enemies to Israel were 
allowed to dwell there for centuries. Surely Da- 
vid needed the Plain of Sharon for his flocks and 
his husbandmen, and yet he never utterly drove out 
the Philistines. But this is not the place to con- 
sider that subject; whatever the reasons we were 
amazed at the wonderful outlook. It was not clear 
enough to see to the extreme north or south, but 
as far as the eye could reach there were grassy fields 
and rich harvests and groves of olives. It was a 
country hardly to be called rolling, but with swells 
and a few streams; a veritable land of "milk and 
honey" now as in former ages. "The excellency 
of Carmel and Sharon/' said Isaiah; it was so rich 
it could be passed into a proverb. Here and there 
men were ploughing with oxen in the primitive 
way, with a wooden "scratcher," and everywhere 
were pretty wild flowers, anemones, ranunculi, and es- 
pecially the red, poppy-looking flower, known gen- 
erally as the "Rose of Sharon." Off in the distance 
were mud villages, the houses being of earth over 
a framework of reeds, but, near by, every foot of 
ground was devoted to agriculture. 

We stopped a moment at a station near Lydda, 



78 Jfrom Bmenca to tbe ©ricnt 



which was visible just over a hill; then passed the 
site of the village where Samson caught the three 
hundred foxes, whose tails he made into firebrands. 
We were now ascending the mountain, but were 
not yet out of the Land of the Philistines. Here 
was Ramleh, a large town, with its huge and high 
square tower; there lay Gezer, which Pharaoh took 
and gave to his daughter, when she married Sol- 
omon, as part of her dowry. To-day no one would 
accept Gezer as a free gift. That mud village is 
called Ekron, to which the ancient ark of God was 
once carried by the Philistines; this Latron, the re- 
puted home of the penitent thief on the cross; and 
the range of hills behind Latron overlooked the 
valley of Ajalon, where Joshua commanded the 
sun and moon to stand still. Surely we were already 
in Scripture lands. 

We left the Plain and found ourselves ascend- 
ing a hilly, rough, stony country, wholly unlike 
Sharon. The railway followed a gorge in its wind- 
ings and the views became more and more wild 
and picturesque. There were flocks of black sheep 
pasturing, and some terraces where ordinary crops 
and also grapes were planted. Bits of villages of 
mud or of stone were perched on the hills here and 
there, none of any great celebrity. 

And now it began to rain. We had entered the 
clouds an hour before reaching Jerusalem; clouds 
which had overhung the mountains all day, though 
on the Plain of Sharon and at Jaffa the sky was 
without a fleck and the sun delightfully warm. It 
was a slight rain only, more like a fog squeezed 
into a mist, but it kept us from seeing Jerusalem 
before entering it even from the railway station; 



ttbc XanD of tbe t>biU6tine6 



79 



and, in fact, we entered carriages and confronted 
its high and grim walls and pushed our way 
through the famous JafYa Gate to the Hotel Grand 
(just within the Gate) before w^e could quite real- 
ize that the day's final goal had been reached and 
we were on a spot a stone's throw from and easily 
within sound of the voice of King David of old, 
as he walked to and fro upon his Tower on the 
Hill Zion. 

A. V. D. H. 



CHAPTER X. 



THE MOUNTAINS ROUND ABOUT JERUSALEM. 

UR LAST sight of the Holy Land was from the 



\^ deck of a steamer. We were starting from 
JafYa on the way to Egypt. The sun had set, it was 
growing dark, and the air had the pe- 
culiar transparency which one sometimes ob- 
serves at that hour. After we had moved 
a little from the shore, so that we were able 
to see over the lower hills back of JafYa, the outline 
of the whole country behind them became visible on 
the horizon, dark and still. Just east of us the long, 
mountainous plateau of Judea stretching southward 
for sixty or eighty miles ; north of this, for about 
thirty miles, the various mountain ranges of Samaria ; 
then a break in the skyline where the great Plain of 
Esdraelon reaches right across the country. Further 
to the left the dark line of Mount Carmel jutting out 
into the sea; further north, faintly seen in the dis- 
tance, the hills of Galilee ; and beyond, like a cloud, 
the snowy peak of Hermon, more than a hundred 
miles away. So by a single view we could see almost 
the whole land of Palestine, for almost the whole of 
it is a mountain range, or series of mountain ranges ; 
not very high as compared with the giant peaks of the 




80 




Photo, hy Rpv. Dr. Richards. 
MARATHON— MOUND TO ATHENIAN PATRIOTS, 490 B. C. 
(Page 65). 




Photo, hy Rev. Dr. Richards. 
JAFFA-HOW STEAMER PASSENGERS ARE LANDED 
ON SHORE (Page75j. 



/Rbountaine Bbout Jeruealem 8i 



Alps or the Andes, yet these hills are real mountains, 
with the beauty and grandeur and mystery which 
belong to mountains everywhere. It is a land of 
fierce winds and pouring rains, and with sudden 
gleams of radiant stmshine. The ancient chosen peo- 
ple were practically a race of mountaineers ; their 
gods, as the defeated Canaanites used to complain, 
were ''gods of the hills." 

Jerusalem is a mountain fastness, firmly estab- 
lished in the heart of the mountains of Judea. The 
ancient stronghold of the Jebusites, when conquered 
by David it became his capital and the centre of the 
national worship. It stands on a group of rocky 
knolls, twenty-five hundred feet above the Mediterra- 
nean and nearly four thousand feet above the Jordan 
Valley. On three sides it is protected by deep val- 
leys forming an impassable moat for this natural 
fortress. To the west and southwest is Gehinnom 
(that is, the valley of Hinnom), the place where the 
old idolaters used to offer their children by fire to 
Moloch, and where afterwards the Jews burned the 
refuse of the city. It became thus a place of awful 
associations, and has given its name to the most terri- 
ble emblem which the Scripture offers of the hopeless 
ruin of sin : that abyss of Gehenna where "their 
worm shall not die, neither shall their fire be 
quenched." Some distance to the south of the city 
this valley of Hinnom is joined by the deep, steep- 
walled gorge of Jehoshaphat, or of the Kidron, which 
comes down from the east. 

The mountains of which the Psalmist sings that 
they ''are round about Jerusalem" rise beyond these 
valleys. In our later day an unhappy memory clings 
to some of them. The long range of Olivet east of 



jfrom Bmerica to tbe ©dent 



the Kidron slopes southward to a point called the 
*'Hill of Offence," where it is said that Solomon built 
the shrines for his heathen wives. Further west, 
back of Gehinnom, rises the "Mount of Evil Coun- 
sel," v^here, according to tradition, Caiaphas had his 
country house, and in it he consulted with the other 
Jewish rulers how they might kill Jesus. But no 
such gloomy associations had been fastened to the 
hills at the time when the Israelites first went up to 
the Holy City to sing these Psalms ; and in that 
earlier, brighter day we can well understand how 
every devout worshipper, going up to the house of 
his God, would rejoice as he looked about him on 
these immovable defenses of the sacred place, and 
with gladness in his heart would sing: ''As the 
mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord 
is round about his people from henceforth, even for- 
ever." 

The name of one of these mountains is still as 
sacred to every Christian as it ever could have been 
to any ancient Jew ; it is Olivet, the Mount of Olives. 
The name belongs to the high ridge east of the city, 
beyond the valley of the Kidron. The hill rises 
abruptly some five or six hundred feet above the val- 
ley ; that is, nearly three hundred feet above the Tem- 
ple courts on the other side of the valley. As we 
used to wander about Jerusalem day after day look- 
ing for its sacred places we were often, tormented by 
the shifting and contradictory traditions, and it was 
very comforting to re-establish our faith in some- 
thing that cannot be removed. For, as if to rebuke 
our doubts and fears, this old mountain stands un- 
changed where the Creator set it. 

On the further slope of Olivet about two miles 



Aountaine Bbout Jerusalem 83 



from Jerusalem lies the little village of Bethany. 
•'El Azarieh" the Arabs call it now, from a certain 
man named Lazarus who once lived there with his 
sisters. On a rainy afternoon in Alarch three of us, 
shielding ourselves as best we could from the storm, 
started for this village on foot. A harder gust of 
rain burst upon us as we entered the town, and we 
were glad to accept the proffered hospitality of one 
of its citizens, a Mohammedan, as they all are there. 
It was a poor little house to which he welcomed us; 
one floorless, dirty, smoky room for the whole fam- 
ily, the turbaned patriarch himself and wife and half 
dozen children ; but they made us welcome before a 
blazing fire of brush, and we found it pleasant to re- 
ceive even such hospitality in the City of Martha 
and Mary. 

The shower passed and we started back by a foot- 
path over the mountain. It was the walk our Lord 
often took when He was teaching in Jerusalem. The 
path is fairly steep, and, as it lifts you above the vil- 
lage, and the view spreads out to the east, you find 
yourself looking down into the strange depression 
of the Dead Sea and the Jordan, that mysterious 
abyss, unlike anything else in the world, which sinks 
more than twelve hundred feet below the level of the 
ocean. Beyond it you have a grand view of Nebo 
and the other mountains of Moab. But then a few 
steps more, and you round the crest of the hill and 
look down across the narrow valley on Jerusalem. I 
doubt if the whole world affords elsewhere such a 
view of a city. 

We seated ourselves under an olive tree, and the 
Testament fell open at the right place that we might 
read how the Lord once took this same journey, and, 



84 ffrom Bmedca to tbe ©rient 



when He reached this spot, and this same view of the 
doomed city burst upon him, He wept over it, saying: 
''If thou hadst known." A Httle further down the 
hillside we came to a garden, the place where He 
often went to pray. 

For a Christian believer that western slope of Oli- 
vet, from the top to the bottom, will always be one 
of the most sacred places in the world. 

There is another mountain north of the city of 
Jerusalem. It is a long, low, rocky hill, a few hun- 
dred yards from the Damascus gate, covered with 
short grass enough to make it a favorite bit of pas- 
ture for the sheep. A part of the hill is now a Mo- 
hammedan burial place ; it is known to have been the 
ancient place of execution for the Jews ; and there is 
little doubt that here the martyr Stephen was stoned. 
View^ed from the city wall, the southern face of the 
rock offers a most remarkable resemblance to a hu- 
man skull, and it is now believed with good reason 
that this is no other than that Golgotha, Calvary, 
Place of a Skull, most sacred of all the mountains 
which encompass Jerusalem; that 

"Green hill far away, without a city wall, 
Where the dear Lord -was crucified. Who died to save us 
all." 

Of course there have been other traditions. The 
guides will point out to you a supposed site for Cal- 
vary in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, in the 
heart of the. present city. But that fails in many ways 
to match what the Gospels say of our Lord's death 
and burial, while this remoter hill beyond the Damas- 
cus gate seems to match all parts of the history. 

We visited the hill several times. We stood there 
for awhile Good Friday morning. Again, two days 



/iRountatns Bbout Jerugalem 85 



later, we stood there on the afternoon of Easter Sun- 
day. The day was fair, with cloudless sky, and a 
goodly company of Christian believers had gathered 
on the hill. Some one spoke a few words of prayer ; 
and we sang a few hymns of faith; and we looked 
over the wall into the city which once rejected Him; 
and we looked up into the blue sky above our heads ; 
and we thought we could almost see the hills and 
streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, where the throne 
of God is, and of the Lamb ; and that we could 
almost hear from far away above us, like the sound 
of many waters, the voices of that great multitude 
already gathering from all nations and kindreds and 
peoples and tongues, who sing forevermore the song 
of the redeemed. 

W. R. R. 




CHAPTER XI. 

THE STREETS OF JERUSALEM. 

HE hurried tourist, who may spend but one 



^ or two days in Jerusalem, particularly during 
the rainy season, would be apt to carry away with 
him rather gruesome impressions. The obtrusive ex- 
hibitions of extreme poverty; the pitiful specimens 
of disfigured and diseased mendicants; the unsan- 
itary condition of the streets, the miserable dwell- 
ings, and the peculiarly repugnant odor emanating 
from these conditions, under which exists a compact 
mass of human beings who manifest an inherent 
dislike to the bath and laundry, not only grate upon 
the moral and physical sensibilities of an American, 
but even threaten the permanent impairment of his 
appetite. 

But several days' familiarity with these sights and 
odors, coupled with the reminder that, after all, 
social misery or happiness is largely dependent 
upon the native training and environment of the 
individual, enable us to discover, underneath this 
unpromising exterior, much that is unique and pic- 
turesque in this city, whose site was mentioned 
4,000 years ago as the stronghold of the Jebusites; 




tbc Qtxccte of Jerusalem S; 



whose early temples and palaces commemorated 
the genius of Solomon, and near which was enact- 
ed the most sublime tragedy in human history. 

The magnificent Jerusalem of the Israelites — the 
Holy City of David — with its gorgeous palaces and 
wonderful temple, is, however, no more. Its ruins 
may eventually be excavated, if the spade of the in- 
vestigator will dig down for a hundred feet 
through the debris which hides the ruins of the an- 
cient city from modern eyes. But modern Jeru- 
salem can boast of no buildings erected prior to 
its entire destruction by Titus, in the First Century, 
and the architecture of Jerusalem of to-day could 
be justly called a burlesque upon the genius of 
Solomon as a builder. 

To ascend or descend its narrow streets or alleys 
(for none are level), and to pass under their low 
vaulted ceilings, reminds the traveler of subter- 
ranean passages or catacombs. The arched vaults 
or caves lining these alleged streets in the business 
portion of the city furnish the shops for the trad- 
ing among the natives. They are usually large 
enough to allow goods to be piled upon the three 
sides of the vault, with sufficient room in the cen- 
tre for the proprietor (who performs all the various 
functions incident to shopkeeping) , and perhaps ad- 
ditional space for two, and sometimes three or 
four customers; but four is generally the limit. One 
vault may dispose of dry goods; another notions; 
another groceries (from the eating of which may 
all my friends be delivered) ; another, fresh 
meats; another, sandals and slippers; another, tin- 
ware; another, wax candles and religious emblems, 
and so on until one or m.ore vaults may be found 



88 3from arnedca to tbe ©dent 



for the sale of all such articles as are commonly 
used by the natives. 

But Jerusalem apparently does not favor the de- 
partment store idea. Each shop has its separate 
proprietor, and the value of the entire stock of the 
average store would not equal in amount a single 
good sized sale in many American retail stores. 

The Oriental method of trading is unique. 1 
would enjoy seeing it tried in Wanamaker's, Dar- 
lington's or CaldweU's. The customer asks the 
price of an article, and the shopkeeper names it, 
declaring at the same time, with the utmost fervor, 
that never before had he named so low a price. The 
customer thereupon cautiously offers a fraction of 
the price named, and calls, with equal fervor, upon 
a number of her favorite saints to witness that she 
will not pay any more. The shopkeeper then 
slightly modifies his former price, but at the same 
time ejaculates a prayer to be forgiven for making 
such a sacrifice. The customer then makes a slight 
advance, and calls upon some more of her patron 
saints to witness that she will absolutely pay no 
more. And thus they make their adroit moves 
back and forth, until a price is finally agreed upon, 
and both instinctively offer up a secret prayer of 
thanksgiving for having so shrewdly outwitted the 
other. 

But to stroll through David street and Christian 
street (a gross slander upon both names!), and 
through many other nameless streets, proves most 
interesting — after you have become inured to the 
odor. All street without pavement, or all pave- 
ment without street (whichever way you choose 
to describe them), and only from six to twelve feet 



CTbe Strecte of Jerusalem 89 



wide. Here may be seen rows of women clad in a 
single coarse cotton garment (with the thermom- 
eter at 55), modestly obscuring their faces behind 
grotesque veils, but amusingly oblivious to the ex- 
posure of their bare feet and limbs, and spending 
an entire day in disposing for a few piastres a bas- 
ket of onions, or eggs, or carrots, or potatoes, or 
kindling wood. 

Winding your way through these narrow streets 
a sudden thump on the shoulder may inform you 
that the right of way is being claimed by a donkey, 
upon whose two sides immense boxes of vegetables, 
or meat, or charcoal, take up the entire width of 
the street. You may witness a specimen of Ori- 
ental gallantry in the swarthy Arab seated upon the 
haunches of a diminutive donkey, while the care 
of two other heavily laden donkeys is entrusted to 
his frail and bare footed wife, who trudges after 
them to goad or encourage. In the open street 
may be seen the itinerant barber clipping the hair 
of a customer, who kneels before him with such ap- 
parent reverence as to suggest the observance of 
his Moslem devotions, while the barber is earning 
his fee. In the middle of one business street may be 
seen a mammoth camel, gravely chewing his cud 
with appropriate dignity. The peculiar looking 
carcasses, carried on the backs of donkeys, are but 
the ancient hides of goats or sheep restored to their 
original shape while serving as water bottles, while 
a smaller carcass strung upon the arm of a street 
vendor supplies the thirsty with a beverage resem- 
bling beer. In the Jewish grain market may be 
seen the measurement of grain, literally "good 
measure, heaped up, shaken together and running 



90 3From america to tbe ©dent 



over" — a form of measurement from which the 
more advanced Hebrew in other countries doubt- 
less considers himself happily emancipated. In the 
dark recesses of these vaults may be seen the me- 
chanic, straining his eyes in the darkness and again 
straining them in the intense glare of the bright 
sunlight, thereby aggravating those diseases of the 
eye which are so common among Orientals. 

And everywhere, from the infant whose lips have 
been taught no other word, up to the aged and de- 
crepit mendicant who suggests a possible escape 
from the tomb, you may hear the cry of ''Bakshish! 
Bakshish! Bakshish!" The plaintive tone in which 
this universal prayer for alms is made by Orientals 
may give the novice the impression of intense 
suffering and unhappiness, but when he discovers, 
how quickly the piteous tone can be cl^anged into 
laughter or rage, he may be justified in suspecting 
that the tune is taught very much the s^rne as the old 
song of 'Tomatoes! Red Ripe Tomatoes!" was 
taught to the old time street hucksters of our cities. 

And yet amid all this complex mass of human be- 
ings, crowded together so closely in the business dis- 
tricts as to constantly jostle each other, and, notwith- 
standing their fierce gesticulations and ejaculations, 
most of the people appear to mind their own busi- 
ness and not interfere with their neighbors. The na- 
tive Jew, with a long curl dangling from each tem- 
ple; the full bearded Greek priest, in his long robe 
of black, and tall, round hat, and with hair grown to 
its natural length, sornetimes flowing and sometimes 
coiled in a roll like a woman's; the Arab,^ with his 
tawny skin and frequently commanding figure; the 
Copt, the African, the Dervish, the Abyssinian and 



tTbe Streete of Jerusalem 91 



the Armenian are all to be seen, and in many in- 
stances the costume resembles the lining of a discard- 
ed coat, which, as it in turn became worn out in 
parts, was replaced by a patch from a discarded cal- 
ico skirt or a discarded bedspread, or a discarded ani- 
mal skin, or a discarded jute sack; or, when no dis- 
carded material could be found for patching, the 
space was allowed to remain blank until a piece of 
some discarded article was providentially fur- 
nished. It has been argued that, in consequence of 
this process of perpetual patching, the same garment 
is frequently handed down from generation to gen- 
eration, on the same principle that the human body 
continues to belong to the same individual, although 
renewed in all its parts every seven years. 

But while this historic city, as it exists to-day — 
with its curious and grotesque medley of inhabitants, 
without a single place of public amusement, and in 
which the watchman gives a warning whistle when- 
ever a stray traveler ventures into the street after 
dark, may be described in a spirit of levity, we ex- 
perience a different feeling when we turn to the re- 
ligious features, which have drawn devout pilgrims 
from all parts of the world, and in whom we find a 
peculiar combination of sincere reverence, childlike 
credulity and a blind and passionate devotion for 
all so-called sacred things. 

For instance. Via Dolorosa is represented as being 
the identical road which the Saviour trod in passing 
from the judgment hall to Calvary, and seven dis- 
tinct stations are marked to indicate the different in- 
cidents of that journey. This road leads into the 
Church of the Holy Sepulchre, in which is represent- 
ed the alleged site of Calvary and the Saviour's tomb. 



92 ifrom Bmerfca to tbe ©dent 



Those who will take the pains to inquire may ascer- 
tain that Jerusalem was entirely destroyed by Titus 
A. D. 70, and no record of the street now called Via 
Dolorosa can be found earlier than the Fourteenth 
Century. Nevertheless, on Good Friday thousands 
of natives and pilgrims travel over this road with the 
devout belief that they are literally walking in the 
footsteps of their Lord, and then enter the gloomy in- 
terior of that historic church, in which cordons of 
soldiers are required to preserve order and to pre- 
vent a repetition of the horrible scenes of bloodshed, 
which on more than one occasion attended the 
crowding together of these fanatical pilgrims of 
many sects. 

The sight of these pilgrims in the Church of the 
Holy Sepulchre is interesting to every student of 
human nature. Take, for instance, a band of Rus- 
sian pilgrims — the men with their square faces and 
long thick hair, and with that stolid expression 
which indicates unusually dull and limited compre- 
hension ; and the women with unshapely figures and 
somber faces, warmly clad in thick coats and wearing 
men's stout, high boots. These people are not pic- 
turesque. The world must look very dull and very 
small to them; but the passionate reverence with 
which these pilgrims kiss the marble slab represented 
as covering the tomb of the Lord; their reverent re- 
gard for all objects accredited as sacred, and their 
well modulated chanting in their chapel during wor- 
ship, is a sight which none can forget. These sim- 
ple minded pilgrims spend no time in questioning 
the exact location of the sacred points of interest, but 
feel that in their pilgrimage to Jerusalem they have 
attained the supreme object of their natural life. 



Zbc Streete of ^eruealem 93 



And these simple minded Russian peasants nat- 
urally suggest the query whether, after all, the exact 
geographical location of sacred places is not of 
minor importance, provided the mind and heart of 
the believer experience a new inspiration and ele- 
vation? 

Outside the city wall, however, is a hill, sloping 
on three sides, and precipitous on the fourth side, 
which faces the city, and shows on its surface certain 
depressions which bear a striking resemblance to a 
skull. This spot is believed by many to be Calvary, 
and in a garden at its base was discovered, not many 
years ago, under a great mass of debris, an arched 
entrance into a chamber, cut into the solid rock, and 
which contained an ancient tomb, which singularly 
corresponds to the description of the one in which 
the body of the Saviour lay. 

But, while reasonable doubt may always exist as 
to the authenticity of the above sites, there appears 
to be no difference of opinion regarding the loca- 
tion of the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Geth- 
semane, and on this mount, away from the distract- 
ing noise, the jargon, the odors and the sights of the 
city of modern Jerusalem; and with the peaceful val- 
ley below us, the historic hills around us, and the re- 
freshing odors of the green fields permeating the at- 
mosphere, the reverent mind can find a peaceful in- 
spiration in recalling the memorable scenes enacted 
here at the dawn of that era which marked so vital 
a step in human history. 

F. A. 

Note by Editor.— So much has been written about the 
modern and also ancient city of Jerusalem, that it has not 
been deemed necessary to publish more concerning it in this 
work than is embraced in the two preceding chapters, which 



94 afrom Bmerica to tbe ©nent 



record with much vividness general impressions. One of the 
latest and best historical and descriptive narratives on Jeru- 
salem Is the Holy City," by the recent United States Con- 
sul, Mr. Edwin Wallace. The other sights of the city not 
mentioned in the foregoing article and which, of course, 
were visited, are: The site of the ancient temple on which 
now stands the Mosque of Omar, a profoundly interesting 
spot, since within the present Mosque may still be seen the 
rock which crowned Mount Moriah and which King David 
bought of Ornan, the Jebusite, who had used it as a threshing 
floor; the Jews' Walling Place, where are still visible many 
immense stones of the ancient Temple; the Golden Gate of 
the City Wall, which has been closed for the past seven 
hundred years; the Stables of Solomon, underneath the city, 
where are still visible the stalls for horses and places for 
tieing and feeding them ; the so-called Coenaculum, or 
the Chamber of the Last Supper, the so-called House of 
Caiaphas, the Pool of Hezekiah and the Pool of Bethesda, 
etc. It should also be noted that the American Consul in 
Jerusalem, Dr. Selah B. Merrill, himself a distinguished 
archaeologist, put our party under great obligations by his 
courtesy and helpfulness. His "Kavass," in gorgeous uni- 
form, attended us in our visit to the Mosque of Omar, and 
he himself took pains to point out and explain to us the 
fragmentary remains of the City Wall, which was standing 
at the time of Christ. 




CHAPTER XIL 



BETHLEHEM. 

HOW anxiously we watched the clouds, but still 
the west wind blew — that west wind, which 
overturned our plans. How was it possible a west 
wind could bring days of rain? But it always does 
in this far away eastern land, and it surely did on 
this one particular day in March, When we were 
obliged to give up our all-day trip to Hebron, with 
its stop on the return at Bethlehem, and to content 
ourselves with a visit to the Tombs of che Kings, said 
to be where the kings of Judah were buried, but most 
probably the last resting place of Queen Helena and 
her family. The approach to these tombs is down 
many steps to a gallery, opening from which are sev- 
eral reservoirs, now used for the collection of rain 
water. Farther on, in another court, we saw a 
large stone, somewhat like a mill-stone, anciently 
used to roll before the entrance of a tomb. Then 
we went into the various ante-rooms, in each of 
which were places for the burial of three or more 
persons, showing the solidity and indestructibility 
of ancient sepulchres. Leaving these tombs behind, 
we drove through the Damascus gate, and — ''outside 
the city wall" — went upon Mount Calvary, where all 

95 



96 jfrom Bmedca to tbe ©rient 



the sorrowful scenes of our Saviour's agony rose be- 
fore us. At the base of the mount we found and 
entered the Garden of the Tomb, and into the Tomb 
itself. Although a disputed site, we felt the solemnity 
and reality of His sufferings and death as never in 
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. 

The remainder of the morning was spent in the 
subterranean quarries, spoken of sometimes as Solo- 
mon's Mines. The entrance is little more than a hole 
in the ground, through which we almost crept, tak- 
ing our lighted tapers, going through dark and rug- 
ged aisles and caverns, until we seemed to be in the 
very bowels of the earth, and we shuddered lest we 
became separated from our guide. There are no 
landmarks, and the extent of these quarries is as yet 
unknown. They were not discovered until 1852, by 
Dr. Barclay, but bear evidence of great antiquity, and 
there is every reason to believe the stones for Solo- 
mon's Temple were ''made ready" in these depths, 
*'so that there was neither hammer nor axe, nor any 
tool of iron, heard in the house while it was build- 
ing." The great quantities of marble quarried and 
carried away gave us a realizing sense of the magni- 
tude of the Temple and buildings of that era. 

As the clouds had lightened, and there was promise 
of a fair afternoon, we started after luncheon on 
the eight-mile drive to Bethlehem. The occasional 
dashes of rain made it necessary to have the car- 
riage curtains down ; nevertheless, when the sun 
did shine, it was all the brighter by contrast, and the 
air was fresh and sweet, bringing a thrill of joy as 
we beheld the land sacred to us by so many and 
rich associations. Our interest quickened as we 
reached the Tomb of Rachel, for notwithstanding the 




Photo, by Rev. Dr. Richards, 
JERUSALEM-THE DAMASCUS GATE (Page 84). 



JSetblebem 



97 



modernness of the structure, with its dome and 
whitewashed walls, it brought many sacred thoughts 
to us, even while the various ''camera fiends" were 
taking their snapshots. Was this truly the spot 
where Jacob parted with the much loved wife? He 
''buried her in the way of Ephrath, the same is Beth- 
lehem;" her for whom he served seven long years, 
which "seemed but a few days, for the love he bore 
her." 

As we drove on, and looked out upon the country 
round about, the Bible stories, so sweet to us from 
childhood, each came back : Ruth gleaning after the 
harvesters, that first romance, which made us think 
of her beauty and grace, and almost forget her un- 
selfish love for the sorrow-stricken Naomi ; David, 
the lad who was "ruddy" and "of a beautiful coun- 
tenance," watching his father's flocks, practicing with 
his sling, guarding faithfully the sheep of his care, 
thereby learning the depth of loving care his Heaven- 
ly Father felt for him, when he exclaimed, "The Lord 
is my Shepherd," communing with nature, and laying 
away great stores to draw upon for his similes, see- 
ing "the hart pant after the water brook," listening 
to the roar of the tempest "and the lion," fintling "the 
adder deaf" and the serpent poisonous and being 
made ready for the anointing oil, which Samuel 
poured upon his head, as the chosen son of 
Jesse, to be king of Israel ! But the thought 
of that greatest event of all history crowded out 
all else, as we drew near the town of the 
Nativity, and we remembered that weary, anxious 
Virgin, as she too drew near, "and there was no 
room for them in the inn," and the bright and beauti- 
ful star, that shone over this same spot, and the glory 



98 jFrom amerlca to tbe ©rtent 



that was round about, "as the shepherds watched by 
night/' 

It was rather a rude awakening to arrive at Beth- 
lehem and find it so modern, with its five hundred 
substantial houses ; it made us forget to think of it 
as the ''City of David." We went immediately into 
the Church of the Nativity, its nave being ''the oldest 
monument of Christian architecture in the world." 
We entered through the one small door, the other 
two having been walled up out of fear of the Mos- 
lems. The church is the joint property of Greeks, 
Latins and Armenians. Passing through it we de- 
scended into the chapel, or grotto, of the Nativity, 
twenty feet below. It is, apparently, a cave in the 
solid rock, covered over, floor and sides, with mar- 
ble. In one of the recesses is an immense silver star 
set in the pavement, supposed to indicate the spot 
where the Saviour was born. Around this burn fif- 
teen lamps, of which six belong to the Greeks, five 
to the Armenians and four to the Latins. Hung 
about are embroideries and drapings, giving a tinsel- 
ly, gaudy effect, so different from the simplicity and 
rudeness of the early manger. In other recesses are 
"The Chapel of the Manger," "Altar of the Magi," 
"The Chapel of St. Joseph," "The Altar of the Inno- 
cents" and the "Tomb of St. Jerome," where he was 
known to have dwelt, and to have written some of his 
works, possibly there making his translation of the 
Bible into the Latin. We spent a little time at each 
of these shrines, then ascended the stairs, passed 
through the Church of St. Catharine, and went into 
the fresh air and sunlight, and, again, from an emi- 
nence gained a view of the broad landscape, where 
we hoped to fprget what the hand of man had done 



JBetblebem 



99 



to commemorate the sacred spot, and to call to mind 
only ''that sweet story of old." The effect of differ- 
ent sects striving with each other to set up their al- 
tars and their monuments is depressing and most in- 
harmonious. 

Before leaving the town it seemed to be in order 
to do a little shopping; so we passed on to the prin- 
cipal business square and there alighted from the car- 
riage in a thin, pasty mud, and proceeded to the 
largest store of the town. There were in it large col- 
lections of carved mother-of-pearl, olive wood, etc. 
The fabulous prices asked, and the sudden reductions 
made, were most amusing, and we saw other ''tricks 
of trade" which were more exasperating. For ex- 
ample, some were thus addressed : "Your mother" 
(sister or other lady, as they might guess the rela- 
tionship) "wishes to see you, in the other store." 
You go, of course, supposing some one of your party 
has sent for you, only to have the messenger turn on 
your entering "the other store," smile blandly and 
say : "I want to show you my goods. I have very 
many beautiful things!" And so you find yourself 
again a victim of an Oriental lie. A lie well told is 
not an infrequent occurrence in this land where it 
seems easier to avoid the truth than to speak it. 

Before leaving the city we viewed from a hill the 
Shepherds' Fields and saw in the distance the mount- 
ains in which is the cave of AduUam. It was while in 
hiding here that David longed — and we endeavored 
to realize the length of that long and hazardous run 
made by his faithful and loving men when they over- 
heard him say : "Oh, that one would give me to drink 
of the water of the well of Bethlehem, that is at the 
gate!" And "he poured it out unto the Lord," when 



loo jfrom 2imenca to tbe ©nent 



it was brought to him, feeling it to be the evidence of 
such consecrated love as was due to the Heavenly 
Father, but not to a mortal man. We visited this 
very well of David and drank of its water. 

On our return to Jerusalem, we found a-n ''upper 
room" had been prepared, and all made ready for the 
celebration of the Lord's Supper. It was the night 
commemorating his betrayal, in which ''He sat down, 
and the twelve apostles with Him" and He command- 
ed them: "This do in remembrance of Me." 

Our company included six clergymen, representing 
four religious denominations, and we all sat down to- 
gether in the stillness of that evening hour, in obe- 
dience to His command, feeling in that one day we 
had been drawn nearer to His earthly life. His birth 
and His death, than ever before. 

F. G. F. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA. 

NE OF the most interesting trips made by us 



V-/ was an excursion of a day and a half from Jer- 
usalem to Jericho, the Jordan, the Dead Sea, and re- 
turn. A few years ago a journey down to Jericho 
was accomplished by the tourist with more or less 
difficulty. At that time the road, being a bridle path, 
was in some places quite dangerous, requiring a 
sure-footed animal, lest one should be precipitated 
down the clififs. Our journey, however, was made 
in carriages over an excellent road begun by the 
government some six years ago and finished for the 
proposed visit of the German Emperor. 

As we proceeded on the circuitous route, winding 
through rocky depths of the mountains, constantly 
descending for some thirty-nine hundred feet, we 
could appreciate the remarkable engineering skill dis- 
played in the construction of the road. Its almost 
perfect condition at present is due to that late expect- 
ed journey over it by the Emperor Wilhelm. He said 
he would visit Jericho, but he was prevented by the 
intense heat prevailing on the plains of Jordan. Not 




lOI 



I02 jfrom amedca to tbc k©tient 



only the Jericho road, but newly painted buildings in 
Jerusalem told of the good effects of the Emperor's 
anticipated caravansary journey. 

All along the rocky, precipitous way our eyes were 
delighted with a profusion of wild flowers of the 
most brilliant colors — daisies, the white flower called 
the Star of Bethlehem, and, especially, was there a 
blaze of scarlet flowers of all kinds, anemones, wild 
tulips and poppies. It is this contrast between the 
brilliant colors of the flowers and the sober hues of 
the rest of the landscape that gives force to the 
words, ''Consider the lilies of the field." Dr. Post, 
of the American College at Beyrout, believes that 
when our Saviour spoke of the lilies of the field, and 
declared that "even Solomon in all his glory was not 
arrayed like one of these," He referred to the wild 
gladiola, a bulbous plant between a crimson and 
heliotrope in color, which grows in great beauty in 
Palestine. Whatever was the special flower desig- 
nated, the wild gladiola possesses the gorgeous hues 
which might be compared to the robes of the great 
king. 

Beside the natural features of the country, our in- 
terest was deeply excited by our conductor, who 
pointed out to us the sites associated with the life of 
our Saviour; for example, the place where stood the 
village to which Jesus sent His two disciples to find 
the ass and her colt tied, to be brought to Him for 
use on His last triumphant entry into Jerusalem. 
Then we passed the supposed site of the house of 
Simon the Leper; and the village of Bethany, to 
which Jesus often resorted after the fatiguing labors 
of the day in Jerusalem, and where He found a quiet, 
congenial resting place in the home of Mary, Mar- 



Jordan tbe DeaJ) Sea los 



tha and Lazarus, with whom He realized an ideal 
friendship. Several miles beyond we rested our, 
horses at the new khan recently built upon the site of 
the inn to which the Good Samaritan might have 
carried the wounded traveller. Then on, winding in 
and out through the rocky defiles, until reaching a 
place where we caught sight of a thread of verdure 
at the bottom of a deep glen, the most romantic 1 
saw in the whole of Palestine. This has been iden- 
tified with the brook Cherith, where Elijah remained 
for a long time at God's command, and where he 
was fed by the ravens. Proceeding down the bare 
limestone hills, we at last caught sight of the mod- 
ern town of Jericho, had a glimpse of the Dead Sea, 
and of a part of the Jordan Valley, and, far away to 
the east of the Jordan, saw a line of verdure which 
marks the course of the brook Jabbok, upon whose 
banks Jacob wrestled with the angel. The valley itself 
we found to be a treeless, barren plain. But "on the 
farther or eastern side of it a broad ribbon of luxu- 
riant green revealed the course of the river Jordan, 
where it flows amid willows, oleanders and reeds." 
On the other side of the river the dark mountains of 
Moab and Edom bound the eastern horizon, with the 
peaks of Nebo and Pisgah towering above. One has 
well said that this vast area of plain and mountain 
and river and sea is crowded with ancient sites whose 
names recall many of the grandest and some of the 
most sublime and appalling events in Biblical history. 

We scarcely paused at the hotel at new Jericho, but 
rode directly on to the site of ancient Jericho, once 
a royal and famous city, which stood in an exceed- 
ingly fertile spot in the valley of the Jordan. This 
is the same Jericho whose walls God cast down by a 



jfrom Bmerica to tbe ©nent 



miracle and gave it to Joshua, with a curse on him 
who should rebuild it. To this Jericho belonged 
Rahab the harlot, and Zacchaeus, who was little of 
stature. They were the boys of this Jericho who 
mocked Elisha the prophet, saying: *'Go up, thou 
bald head," and were devoured by two bears to 
avenge him. The site is a large mound of rubbish 
and earth and nothing more. We stood upon it and 
saw off to the west the Mountain of Temptation 
gaunt and grizzly. Near Jericho is the place where 
Jesus opened the eyes of the blind man as he passed 
by. And near by is the fountain which Elisha made 
sweet, which before was bitter. The Jericho of 
Christ's time was a little south of this. That was a 
favorite town of Herod the Great, who built a palace 
there and considered the place the most beautiful in 
his dominions. We saw the site, but it had scarcely 
a ruin. Gilgal, a few miles away, was the scene of 
the Israelites' first encampment. The ground of Gil- 
gal was the first that was pronounced ''holy" (Josh. 
5:15). On its hill, during the long wars in the in- 
terior of Palestine, the Tabernacle remained, till it 
found its resting place in Shiloh (Josh. 18:1). 

It is exceedingly hot on the plain in summer. The 
temperature rises to 110° and often 118°. The peo- 
ple who inhabit the valley are a sickly and degenerate 
race. The climate in winter is mild, and some peo- 
ple have talked of making modern Jericho a health 
resort. It is said that the Sultan of Turkey owns 
privately a good deal of land in the valley, but I 
would not pay him much for the whole of it. 

After lunch at the excellent hotel in the modern 
Jericho, the Hotel du Pare, we proceeded on our way 
to the Dead Sea, some four miles or more away. 



5or6an an6 tbe 2)ca& Sea 



105 



While desolation is a marked feature of this inland 
lake, we did not find it, as I fancied we would, a 
gloomy sheet of water sending forth sulphurous ex- 
halations, over which no bird could fly uninjured. 
It is, however, one of the most curious of inland seas. 
Thirteen hundred feet below the level of the Medi- 
terranean, it is the most depressed sheet of water in 
the world. It is forty-six miles in length and nine 
miles in width. Its basin, as has been well described, 
is a streaming cauldron — a bowl, which, from the pe- 
culiar temperature and deep cavity in which it is situ- 
ated, can never be filled to overflowing. The river 
Jordan, itself exposed to the same withering influ- 
ences, is not copious enough to furnish a supply equal 
to the demand made by the rapid evaporation. The 
excessive saltness of the Dead Sea is remarkable. 
The saline particles in the water of the ocean are 
four per cent. ; the Dead Sea contains twenty-six and 
a quarter per cent. This peculiarity is, it is believed, 
mainly caused by the huge barrier of fossil-salt which 
closes its southern end, and is heightened by the rapid 
evaporation of the fresh water poured into it. Here 
is where Lot chose for himself a home. But at that 
time it was ''well watered everywhere even as the 
garden of the Lord." Here were those cities of the 
plain which were so full of wickedness that ''the Lord 
rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and 
fire from the Lord out of heaven" (Gen. 19:24, 25), 
Riding from the Dead Sea two miles we came 
to a place called the Fords of the Jordan, where Jesus 
was baptized by John ; where Joshua and the children 
of Israel passed over dryshod. Here also the waters 
of Jordan were divided at the bidding of Elijah, and 



io6 jftom amedca to tbe ©dent 



again divided when Elisha struck it with EHjah's 
mantle. 

We found the Jordan to be anything but a noble 
stream. Hebrew writers have nothing to say in its 
praise. Naaman, who had come from Damascus, on 
the fertile banks of the lucid streams of Abana and 
Pharpar, despised its muddy waters. David was 
thinking of the rivulet of the Kidron when he wrote 
of the ''river whose streams make glad the city of 
God, the holy place of the Tabernacle of the Most 
High." The want of attractiveness in the actual 
scenes, however, makes us turn with all the more 
enthusiasm and reverence to the men who have been 
specially associated with the Jordan. Elijah, who 
appeared from beyond Jordan in all his mysterious 
moral greatness, was fed by the ravens down there 
at the brook Cherith, and somewhere close by as- 
cended to heaven. Then came the gentler personal- 
ity of Elisha, on whom the great prophet's mantle 
fell. And last and greatest of the three, John the 
Baptist, whom Keble describes as ''the loved har- 
binger of Jesus, with the unswerving soul and the 
fearless tongue, who counted it gain that his light 
should grow dim before the increasing glory of the 
Son of Man." 

Returning to our hotel for the night, after an early 
breakfast the next morning we started on our return 
trip to Jerusalem, with the conviction that this mental 
impression of the amazing panorama of the Valley of 
the Jordan would remain with us while life may last. 

This return journey was quite as interesting as the 
first drive of the day before. In part we had become 
familiar with the road, and our powers of observa- 
tion had become quickened. It had been a slightly 



JorDan anD tbe BeaD Sea 107 



rainy morning the day before, and in and about Je- 
rusalem the clouds had covered the heavens and the 
earth as with a pall. But this day there was perfect 
vision everywhere; the morning was clear as crystal, 
cool and crisp as on a September day, and when we 
left the Jordan plain with our faces toward ''the 
mountains round about Jerusalem," their every tower 
and battlement, rock and pinnacle, was as if freshly 
let down out of the skies, or newly upheaved from 
the depths of the earth. The view was not merely 
beautiful, but inspiring and sublime. We had now 
all the thousands of feet to climb, and part of it on 
foot to rest the horses, but every moment of the hours 
was enjoyable and stimulating. At one point of the 
journey the native hot-blood boiled and we had an 
interesting — it might have proven a most dangerous 
— scene. The driver of one carriage began a quar- 
rel with the driver of another carriage, as to his hav- 
ing in his conveyance the proprietor of the Jericho 
hotel, ''which had not been bargained for" and was 
not to be permitted. Words came to blows. A 
Mohammedan in a quarrel is never so much himself 
as when he can pound his enemy with a rock. "Beel- 
zebub," as his name should have been, took up from 
the roadside a stone as large as his right hand could 
grasp, at least four inches in diameter, and was in 
the act of demolishing the head of his weaker foe. 
At this juncture our athletic Reverend brother, who 
knew no fear and would brook no signs of murder, 
sprang from one of the carriages, grasped "Beelze- 
bub" with a more than fraternal hug, and compelled 
him to relinquish the barbarous weapon. It required 
a little time to compel peace, but it finally followed. 
Probably this encounter was an everyday incident on 



loS 



3from Smenca to tbe ©dent 



the road from Jericho, but the native had his match 
in an American and we were spared the sight of 
blood. 

We paused to rest at the ''Apostles' Fountain," but 
made no long stop until we reached Bethany. Here 
we turned to look at the ruins of the home of Mary 
and Martha, and to go down into the supposed tomb 
of Lazarus. At this place, Bethany, we met more 
boy and girl beggars than we saw anywhere else in 
Palestine. They were disagreeably vexatious and 
determined, scantily clad, of course, and crying con- 
tinually for ''bakshish." 

Now we recrossed the Mount of Olives and saw 
again over the valley Jerusalem in its rich pictur- 
esqueness ; the quiet and holy city of ancient story, 
never so beautiful to us as when we saw it from the 
distance and in the light of the brilliant afternoon 
sun. Then, and not after you have entered it, it is 
^'Jerusalem the golden, with milk and honey blest." 

A. A. K. 



Photo, by Miss Oiler. 

OETHSEMAXE— A SCENE IX THE GARDEN. 
(Page«4;. 



MOSES. Pkoto. by Rer. Dr. Kiehle. 

The son of the Sheik who acted as Special Guard from Jerusalem to Jericho. 




CHAPTER XIV. 



CAMPING TOUR — FIRST DAY. 

E HAD dreamed of it. And even when dis- 



V V turbed by the rude noise of unquiet sleepers 
and of stranger noises in the pubHc streets by the 
Jaffa Gate, we lay calmly on our pillows and, like 
Jacob, imagined these were the footfalls of angels 
on the heavenward stairs. Heavenward stairs may 
seem poetical, but there were stern realities in the 
days that followed, that more frequently led down- 
ward. 

We had been at Jerusalem a week. We were tired 
of the tradition and superstition of the Holy City. 
We were almost penniless from yielding to the con- 
stant demands for ''bakshish." And now we were 
elated with the bright prospect before us. The day 
of fond hopes and dreams was near at hand. We 
were going on a camping tour through the Holy 
Land, to cross the very fields and walk the roads o'er 
which our blessed Saviour went. And we were 
going in the primitive way on horseback, so as to 
study Nature and carry with us lasting impressions 
of the scenes and associations of this sacred land. 
On Monday, April 3, we were to start. Of course, 




109 



no afrom Bmerlca to tbe ©dent 



the early knock at our door, with the call ''six , 
o'clock," was unnecessary. Who could sleep with 
such a prospect before? That morning Scripture 
was fulfilled and the usual late riser was first at the 
breakfast table. But oh ! the disappointment when 
we looked from the window. It rained ! Not a 
gentle dropping like the dew from heaven, but a 
downright, continual pouring of water. We held a 
council of war, and the decision was that the rain 
was too mighty a foe for us to fight, and we must 
wait until another day. So we spent the day in 
studying the rainstorms of Jerusalem. 

We understood the significance of the ''early and 
latter rain," although we did not rise early enough 
to see its beginning, nor stay up late enough to see 
its end. The rain comes down by Scripture measure, 
not "here a little and there a little," but all over, and 
it seems to come down all at once, and to keep com- 
ing all the while until everything is "full and running 
over." Yes, the Bible is true, the rain did "fall on 
the just and the unjust." So we patiently took our 
share with the wicked natives of Jerusalem. No one 
can doubt the truth of the story of the Deluge after 
passing through a Jerusalem rainstorm. The only 
doubt is, whether the rainbow can be a sure prevent- 
ive for the future. And we saw now the wisdom of 
building Jerusalem on a hill, with the deep valleys 
around to carry off the water. 

On Tuesday, April 4, the early call was again 
heard, and eager expectation led us to give a hasty 
response. But alas, again it rained ! This was too 
much for the enthusiastic ambition of the more youth- 
ful tourists. Again we met in council and, like 
Plato, said: 



Camping XTour— Jfirst Bai^ m 



*• To go or not to go» that is the question, 
To face the driving storm like heroes bold, 
Or quail before the elements, 
Which shall the nobler be ? " 

Then our divine of iron will and giant frame said : 

** Why should we falter now ? 
We cannot melt like salt, 
We're sweet, but we're not sugar ; 
My voice is for the journey." 

And so with strong, united voice we all re- 
sponded: 

'*From Holy City to the sea we'll go on horseback, 
And we'll start to-day. So forward, march ! " 

Of course we made all necessary preparation for 
the rain. Wise tourists who follow us should do 
likewise, even though the guide books say ''it does 
not rain in Jerusalem in April." We have been there 
and we know better. It is always well to wear a 
rubber suit in Jerusalem with hip boots of rubber. 
These will render excellent service in the rain storms 
and in traveling through the rubbish and filth of the 
city. I bought the last pair in the Holy City, which 
shows how great was the demand. It may be well to 
insert a paragraph here stating that it is wisdom to 
wear the rubber suit to bed, so as to be ready for any 
unexpected calamity. Our Palestine conductor, Mr. 
Dimitri N. Tadros, a bright and energetic young man, 
well equipped for just such work as this, had us se- 
lect the horses to ride. Most people ride donkeys in 
Palestine. With our fantastic suits we might have 
been classed with the latter animals. No pictures 
were taken of us on horseback during the rainy 
weather ; it would have required so much of explana- 
tion to civilized people at home, where our friends 



112 jfrom amenca to tbe ©rlent 



would surely have taken us for a band of masked 
robbers. 

Even after mounting our Arab ponies we did not 
make a general start. Some remained on their 
horses; others were too heavy for the. side saddles 
and the girths had to be tightened. The feet of 
some were too large for the stirrups, and new sad- 
dles were necessary. But, after sundry changes and 
dismountings, the various grumblers all seemed 
to have found the best that could be given them, and 
concluded thereafter to hold their peace. So in sin- 
gle file we passed through the Jaffa gateway. Our 
farewells were a mixture of the cries of whip-ven- 
ders, demands for ''bakshish" from those who held 
our horses and the good wishes of the friends we 
left behind, who with dim forebodings wished us a 
pleasant trip. And through the storm we turned our 
faces toward Samaria and Galilee. 

Our party consisted of seventeen tourists and for- 
ty-two men to accompany us as guides, guards and 
servants, with twenty-five horses, ten donkeys and 
twenty-eight mules, making a grand caravan of 122 
animals, quadrupeds and bipeds. A palanquin carried 
by two mules was the royal conveyance in which one 
of the ladies rode. On the second day another palan- 
quin was brought from Jerusalem, and from that time 
we had two "Queens of Sheba" in our procession. 
Our conductor was a native of Jerusalem, whose spe- 
cial business it is to arrange for and conduct parties 
through Palestine and Syria. He was educated at 
the Protestant college in Beirut and spoke English 
even better than an Englishman and almost as well 
as an American. He knows the country from Dan 
to Beersheba, and by giving his personal attention 




Photo, hy Rev. Dr. Richards.- 
CAMPING TOUR-THE START (Page 109). 



Photo, by Rev. Dr. Richards. 
CAMPING TOUR-THE PROCESSION, SHOWING PAL- 
ANQUIN (Page 112). 




Photo, hy Rev. Dr. Richards. 
CAMPING TOUR- JOSEPH'S ''WELL OF THE PIT." 
(Page 132). 



Camping ^Tour— ifirst 2)a^ 113 



to every detail of the trip, nothing was neglected or 
forgotten. The fact that during the long trip through 
the severe storm and over the rough and rocky roads 
none of us experienced any serious illness, or met 
with any severe injury, was due in a great degree to 
the unwearied patience and faithful care of Mr. 
Tadros and his able assistants. The leader of his 
staff of assistants was Mr. Jameel H. Nssaire, who 
is also an efficient guide. Our equipments consisted 
of nine sleeping tents, one dining tent, and one tent 
for cooking. There were folding iron beds and bed- 
ding and all the necessary cooking utensils and pro- 
visions for our journey. 

Our course was at first toward the northeast, and 
we rode along the north side of the wall of Jerusa- 
lem, passing the Grotto of Jeremiah and the supposed 
hill of Calvary. For a distance the road was smooth 
and pleasant. We had been told that we would have 
rough traveling the first day. But the first half hour 
seemed to deny such an assertion. Long before 
night, however, we were convinced that in this one 
thing at least ''the half had not been told." About a 
mile from Jerusalem we left the carriage road and, 
turning into a narrow, stony trail, we began climbing 
Mount Scopus, one of the ''mountains round about 
Jerusalem." This mountain was famous in the his- 
tory of the siege of Jerusalem by the Roman General, 
Titus, in 70 A. D., for here he planted those batteries 
of death that finally caused the surrender and de- 
struction of the Holy City. Every step of this new 
road gave us increased faith in the truthfulness of 
the conductor. We had found one Oriental who 
could at least tell part of the truth, and this was a 
delightful change. For lying — not a little equivoca- 



114 



jFrom america to tbe ©rtent 



tion, but, for absolute, unqualified, unmitigated lying 
— the Orientals can easily beat the world. They lie 
all the time, waking or sleeping. There are only two 
exceptions to it, when they lie ignorantly or for 
money. So anxious are they for money that for a 
quarter of a cent they will tell a deliberate truth, 
although it seems to be very wearing on them, and 
we did not exact it except at intervals. So we were 
astonished when we found the road as it had been 
described, rough, rocky and steep. 

Nature was lavish with her stones and boulders 
when she formed this pathway. For our personal 
appreciation of Nature's ability, one half of the stones 
would have been sufficient, and for our personal com- 
fort we would have gladly dispensed with the other 
half. The stones were of every conceivable shape 
and size. What a wonderful quarry it must have 
been whence they were taken ! Yet what a waste of 
time to pile them up here for the discomfort of trav- 
elers. Had Nature only used her powers in some 
other manner, many travelers would have clearer 
consciences when reviewing the scenes and events of 
such a camping trip. The most of us maintained a 
dignified silence as we rode slowly along, our only 
objects being to keep ourselves as dry as possible 
in the pelting rain, and to keep our horses from 
stumbling and falling. Possibly some might have in- 
dulged in evil thoughts. Among these, perhaps, was 
the clergyman, who, to preserve his good looks and 
to keep his face fair and white, purchased a large 
white hat at Port Said, for a sudden gust of wind 
blew that same white hat in the mud, whence it was 
rescued wet and dirty. After that, behavior and 
comfort were of greater importance than beauty. 



Camping JTour— ifiret Bai^ 115 



Another clergyman had invested in a pair of saddle 
bags in which were safely stowed away his valuables. 
Obeying the example of Paul, ''forgetting those 
things that are behind," he rode into Bethel only to 
find that the saddle bags were so far behind that they 
were of no further use on the trip. 

Reaching the summit of Mount Scopus we were 
called to look back for our last view of the Holy 
City. To some who thought only of the modern city 
with its filthy surroundings it was a glad last look. 
To others who had become wearied with the tradi- 
tions of the Mohammedan, Roman Catholic and 
Greek churches it was a sweet relief to know it was 
the last look. But to all, the fact that we had seen 
Jerusalem, and that shorn of all tradition there were 
still left many sacred places and divine associations, 
made the last look one of sweet and touching mem- 
ory. 

I had expected great things from the camping trip, 
for I had been told that the scenery of Palestine was 
exceedingly wild and beautiful. Alas, the rain and 
the rocky roads that first day gave me no desire to 
look at the country. I was more anxious about 
horsemanship than to look for Nature's beauties in 
such a barren, forsaken and desolate land. Before 
the trip was ended I had become so expert on horse- 
back over the terrible roads that I would scarcely 
have hesitated to climb the Matterhorn, or scale a 
church steeple. 

I was told during the morning that we had passed 
some sites of ancient towns famous in history. It 
was probably so. I had no time and no wish to 
dispute, or even argue with my informant. One 
town, however, I would have rejoiced to see, a town 



ii6 jFrom Bmenca to tbe ©nent 



where the sun shone and from which the stones were 
all gathered on one heap. 

On a hill a short distance to the right of our road 
was Gibeah, where Saul lived, and where the seven 
sons of Saul were put to death, and Rizpah, 
the mother of two of them, watched over their dead 
bodies "from the beginning of harvest until water 
was poured upon them from heaven," until David, 
hearing of her devotion, caused the bodies to be 
buried in the family tomb with Saul and Jonathan. 
Some distance to the left on another hill was the 
Mizpeh of Samuel, where the Israelites met to choose 
their first king, which resulted in the selection of 
Saul. Mizpeh was one of the three holy cities which 
Samuel as judge visited. During the Babylonian 
captivity Jeremiah with a small band of people dwelt 
there. It was from Mizpeh that the Crusaders ob- 
tained their first sight of the Holy City and called it 
Mount Joy, because it gives joy to pilgrims' hearts, 
for from that place men first see Jerusalem." To the 
right was the little town of Er-Ram, with about a 
score of families. This was the ancient Ramah of 
Gilead. This was the birth place of Samuel, and here 
tradition says he was buried. 

We were to lunch at Bethel, but did not reach that 
place until one o'clock, when a more wretched, dis- 
heartened body of travelers it would be hard to find ; 
weary with the long ride on horseback, thoroughly 
water soaked (at least some of us), and the most of 
us disgusted with camp life in general. The poetry 
had all vanished. We realized now that the beauty 
and joy of a camping trip in the rain was only the 
''baseless fabric of a dream." Our lunch was to have 
been served underneath some shady tree on the sum- 



Camping tTour— jfiret 2)a^ n? 



iiiit of Bethel. But the rain and the wet ground for- 
bade. We waited in the fierce storm for orders. 
Soon from the leader on the hill above us we heard 
a call: "Come on." We followed his voice and soon 
halted before the finest house in Bethel, whose owner 
had very kindly given us permission to eat from the 
ground floor of his palatial residence. We dismount- 
ed, that is, we slid down from our horses, so wet and 
benumbed with cold that we could scarcely walk. 
Bethel is a wretched town of mud huts. "The Four 
Hundred," that is, the whole population, came out to 
meet us with open hands and the familiar greeting 
"bakshish." We were indignant. Terrible thoughts 
took control of our minds. We contemplated slaying 
three hundred and ninety of them on the spot and 
leaving the rest as a frightful example. It would 
have been good exercise and probably would have 
warmed our blood and revived our drooping spirits. 
However, our Christian charity overcame our bel- 
ligerent minds and we allowed them to live to tor- 
ment other pilgrims. 

We entered the mansion of Mr. Harasheeya 
through the only passage, a low doorway, where the 
smallest had to stoop to enter. The house contained 
but one room, without window, chair, bed, or any 
article of furniture that we could discover. Perhaps 
with a view to safety the owner had removed them 
all. Rugs spread on the ground made our table, and 
here, strange to say, our waiters soon invited us to 
partake of a royal lunch. It was a wet, despondent 
and hungry crowd that reclined, or sat upon the 
ground around the luncheon. But it was wonderful 
what changes took place immediately, not only in the 
food, which disappeared as though an earthquake had 



ii8 



jFrom Bmerfca to tbc ©rtent 



swallowed it, but in the faces and dispositions of the 
band of pilgrims. The cause of it all lay in the de- 
licious roast chicken, veal, boiled eggs, sardines, bis- 
cuit, cheese, nuts, raisins and oranges. We became 
better satisfied with our condition and with things 
in general. Our animosity did not extend to more 
than half of the Bethel ''bakshish" beggars. We 
were willing to forgive and forget. While we were 
eating our lunch, the owner of the mansion sat in a 
corner looking on v/ith hungry eyes. It was no 
doubt the greatest feast he had ever seen. No other 
member of the family was visible. After lunch some 
of the natives made a fire of shrubs on the stone 
porch before the house, and here we stood and tried 
to draw out some of the unpleasant feelings produced 
by our wet clothes, even at the expense of smoking 
out our eyes. We tried to forget our unpleasant sur- 
roundings and to think of the Bethel of old. For it 
was here that one night Jacob, when fleeing to Padan 
Aram, stopped to rest and "took of the stones of that 
place and put them for his pillows and lay down to 
sleep," and while sleeping had his wonderful dream 
of the ladder reaching from earth to heaven. We 
had no doubt about the truth of the stone pillows. 
There is scarcely anything around Bethel but stones. 
We only wondered where he could have found a 
place to rest his head without a stone for a pillow. 

While we were thinking of the past, the orders 
came to mount horses and start on our afternoon 
ride. We found the horses shivering with the cold 
and our saddles were wet. But we had grown more 
heroic, and so stoically we mounted, although some 
of us silently said in the language of the Emerald 



Camping tTour— jfirst Bai^ 



Isle, 'Sure and when I come again on a camping trip 
in Palestine I will stay at home, so I will." 

The afternoon ride was like that of the morning, 
only a great deal more so. It rained harder and at 
intervals, by way of a change, it hailed. This was 
almost too much for our hitherto brave little ponies, 
and some of them refused to face the biting storm or 
preferred to meet it sideways. The road became 
more steep and rocky. At times it was a solid bed 
of rock, and then again a giant stairway, the steps 
previously made by the steel-shod feet of horses. So 
dangerous in places did this narrow path seem that 
some of our company dared not ride, but dismounted 
and walked. About the middle of the afternoon we 
came to the Wady-El-Haramiyeh, or Robbers' Glen, 
a deep valley between two lofty hills, a wild and pic- 
turesque spot. This valley is very narrow and ex- 
tremely rocky. But there were many olive and fig 
trees, which were a delightful contrast to the deso- 
late and barren hillsides. It is a lonely place, with 
no towns or houses near, and, hence, favorable to 
thieves, as many tourists and also merchants and 
farmers with loaded camels and donkeys pass through 
this valley. We rode through the valley for several 
miles and then came out into a beautiful and fertile 
plain. Turning sharply to the right soon from some 
one in the front we heard the cheering news that our 
night's camp was in sight. Welcome words to wet 
and weary pilgrims ! The horses seemed to have a 
touch of the new inspiration and carried us at a faster 
pace to the tents, our halting place for the night. 

Happy were we to give our horses in charge of 
our muleteers and go to those tents, which had been 
erected for two days. We found everything dry in- 



120 



Jf rem America to tbe ©dent 



side. In each tent we also found two comfortable, 
single beds, with bowls, pitchers, chairs and rugs cov- 
ering the ground. The inside of these tents were 
beautifully ornamented with applique work in bright 
colors and fantastic shapes. Learning that there was 
a charcoal fire in the cooking tent, we went there to 
get warm and dry and to form the acquaintance of 
John, our chef, whose reputation throughout Palestine 
is famous. Soon we were called by the ringing of a 
bell to the dining tent, where we sat down on camp 
chairs around a table, from which was served a 
sumptuous course dinner, beginning with soup and 
ending with fruit, nuts and coffee. From this time 
onward we were ready to certify that camp life is not 
so bad after all. The one who was thinking of the 
Pyramid wedding, which some of his friends had 
planned for him, resolved that if it ever took place 
John should provide the wedding feast. After din- 
ner a large bonfire was started in the open air and 
here, before the blazing fire, we stood and got thor- 
oughly warmed and dry, and then went to rest after 
the experiences and hardships of our first day of 
camp life. 

Our encampment was at the modern town of Tur- 
mus Aya. When I saw the crowds of natives gath- 
ering around the camp I felt that our contractor had 
made a mistake in selecting the site, for they surely 
would annoy us by day and possibly rob us by night. 
But I was assured, and afterward by observation 
convinced; that this was the only way and place of 
safety. By camping within the limits of the town 
we were under the protection of the sheik, and he, 
for a financial consideration, was obliged to furnish 
us with a guard, who would watch over our camp by 



Camping tlour— afirst Dais 121 



night. And during all our encampments from Jeru- 
salem to the Sea of Galilee, through the faithfulness 
of our guards, supplied by local Turkish authority, 
we were unmolested by day or by night. 

T. E. D. 



CHAPTER XV. 



CAMPING TOUR — BY JACOB's WELL TO NABLOUS. 



HE CALL for rising came an hour or two be- 



fore the weary tourists were ready for it. The 
faithful steward, Karam, sent an emissary from 
tent to tent, rattling a knife handle against a tin 
pan with all possible clangor, and we shuddered but 
obeyed. It was a tired company which had dropped 
from their horses with stiffened limbs at Turmus 
Aya the evening before. It was a tired company 
which slept like logs that first night in the pleasant 
tents. It was a tired company yet, which unwillingly 
opened its eyes at the rising bell above mentioned, 
and hurried its clothes on its still, stiff limbs. But 
it had to be done. The tents must go forward to the 
next place of encampment, and the sleepers must be 
dressed and out to release them to the bearers. 

The first thing to be done on gaining consciousness 
and powers of observation was to look at the weather. 
Alas ! it still looked showery. The sun broke out for 
a moment and gilded Turmus Aya, but the gilding 
was scarcely eighteen karat, and was put on exceed- 
ingly thin at that. By the time our excellent break- 
fast was over — our table was irreproachable through- 




122 



m 5acob^0 men to mablou6 



1-^3 



out the tour — it was all worn off, and we climbed our 
horses and set off on our second day's journey under 
a gray sky. The first mile of our progress was along 
a sort of by-path across the fields. It had been in- 
tended that we should camp at Sinjil the first night, 
but another party had pre-empted that spot, and we 
turned off the direct route to proceed to Turmus 
Aya. This distance had to be retraced by a short cut 
in order to gain once more the direct road. We soon 
struck into the latter, and then for a considerable 
distance our experience was much like that of the 
preceding day. There were the same ill-defined 
paths, more like trails than roads, often mere scratch- 
ways on the rocks ; the same desolate hills ; the same 
steep ascents and equally steep descents, over which 
our sure-footed horses picked their way like cats, 
through all of which we kept on the sloping backs 
of our beasts in a most praiseworthy, but, it must be 
confessed, unexpected m.anner. We had the same 
squally showers, too, laden with vicious hail, under 
which the horses all turned tail to the blast with the 
uniformity of a cavalry drill. However, glimpses of 
sunlight would occasionally drift over the landscape 
and cheer us with delusive hopes. Finally, about an 
hour before lunch time, the rain came pelting down 
with a will and soon wet all there was of us left to 
be wet. 

Under these circumstances it was obviously im- 
possible to stop and rest for the noon meal under 
any vine or fig tree whatever, and nothing but a solid 
roof would meet the needs of the hour. Accordingly 
we turned into the village of Howara, and entered 
the house of an Arab family. It was a stone building 
about thirty feet square, with one room, which con- 



124 



3from Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



tained the whole family and their camel. In one 
corner was a platform, perhaps twenty feet square 
and five feet high, on which the family slept, and 
apparently sat at such times as they rested. The 
house contained no furniture in our sense of the 
word beyond a few cooking utensils and some ragged 
articles halfway between carpets and comforters, 
used alternately as cushions and wraps. A fire of 
dry weeds had been kindled in one corner of the 
house that w^e might warm and dry ourselves, but as 
there was no sign of a chimney, the smoke was soon 
most pervasive and irritating. To make matters 
worse, the camel insisted on standing up in his cor- 
ner beside the platform every ten minutes and grin- 
ning over our shoulders, and was induced by his 
master to kneel down again, at the expense of much 
heavy sighing on the part of the beast, copiously 
mingled with much louder growling, gurgling and 
other demonstrative camel forms of remonstrance. 
He was evidently much interested in the barbarian 
visitors. Altogether it was a pretty uncomfortable 
time. Fortunately it was the last of our house 
lunches ; the rest were in the open air and in the sun- 
shine. 

The most interesting event in this day was our 
visit to Jacob's Well near Sychar, at the entrance 
of the Nablous valley, and about twenty minutes from 
the town. Sychar and Joseph's Tomb lay off about 
a mile to the right, but we did not visit them. We 
were already anxious for the rest we should find in 
the tents near by, and the sites themselves, founded 
on mere tradition, had little interest compared v/ith 
the certainty that when at Jacob's Well we were at 
an authentic spot. We dismounted at a door in a 



m Sacob'e TKHcll to mablou6 



125 



long wall and were pleasantly greeted by the monk 
in charge, who courteously presented each of the 
ladies with a small bouquet. We passed down a gar- 
den to some stone steps in the facade of a Crusader's 
church recently exhumed, and entered an under- 
ground chamber about ten feet deep and twenty long, 
apparently once the lobby of the church. In the mid- 
dle of this was a low, circular curb of stone. The 
monk lowered a candle through the central opening, 
which was about fifteen inches in diameter, and 
showed that the upper part of the well was stoned 
up for about a dozen feet from the top. Below that 
it seemed larger, but without masonry and cut di- 
rectly through the living rock. He drew some of the 
water for us ; it was not crystalline, but rather thick 
and whitish. Whatever might have been the case in 
earlier times, it is not now especially inviting to the 
eye, nor tempting to the taste, although not at all 
bad. However, it did not seem as if it were, in its 
present condition, good enough to induce people to 
come a long way for it, especially as there is now 
more attractive water in Shechem itself. 

It seems strange, as you sit on the spot, to think 
that this now subterranean well could ever have 
offered a resting place on its curb to that once weary 
Traveller through Samaria to Jerusalem. But, of 
course, the surroundings were very different then, 
and this location is as authentically identified as any 
spot can be. Here Abraham and Lot have stood and 
talked. Here Jacob built an altar to the God of his 
father. Precisely here he dug his well, and must 
have stood and watched his men as they groped down 
after the water. Above all, here is a spot made 
holy by the physical presence of the Christ as He 



126 jfrom amcrica to tbe ©rtent 



talked that strange talk with the Woman of Samaria. 
It seems holier ground than the famous, but far more 
doubtful Church of the Holy Sepulchre itself. 

Pondering on these and many other thoughts to 
which the place gave natural rise, we lingered under 
an arbor until a passing shower should cease, and 
then remounted our horses and rode on to Nablous. 
We found the tents pitched in the nearer outskirts 
of the city, between it and the Turkish barracks. 
Behind us lay Mount Ebal and in front of us Mount 
Gerizim, only about half a mile apart at their bases. 
The air is so pure and the distance so short, that 
those who have tried the experiment say that there 
is no difficulty in being heard across the valley from 
one summit to the other, as in the scene recorded in 
the eighth chapter of the book of Joshua. 

The boys and young men of Nablous turned out in 
a body to see us with all the keen interest with which 
the same class at home turns out to see the circus. 
It was hard to keep them off the camp ground. After 
an excellent dinner, which went far toward repair- 
ing the weariness of our day's wayfaring, the kitch- 
en brazier, an iron trough about a foot wide and 
four feet long, was brought into the saloon tent and 
we made ourselves quite comfortable. We turned in 
rather early, and soon the silence was broken only 
by the occasional whistling of the camp guard as 
they lounged about the grounds, or by the wail of 
some jackals off on Mt. Gerizim, who prowled about, 
yelling like ferocious hyenas, but, cowards as they 
are, entirely too timid to come near and investigate. 
We had no fear of them and slept soundly. 

M. H. H. 



CHAPTER XVL 



CAMPING TOUR — TO SAMARIA AND JENIN. 

' E HAD camped atNablous, the ancient Shech- 



V y em, and, as we had a long ride before us for 
the day, we were called at 5 :45 in the morning, and at 
7 130 were in the saddles ready to start. This long in- 
terval between the rising and starting was spent in 
dressing and breakfast, and the packing of camp equip- 
ments and baggage on the backs of mules and don- 
keys. These were always sent on ahead of us, so that 
they would not interfere with our travel but would 
reach the nightly camping ground before we arrived. 
It was amusing to see Mr. Tadros rushing about 
among the men and striking them heavy blows with 
his horsewhip, when they seemed to shirk their work 
or moved too slowly. It gave us some idea of how 
the Egyptian task-masters used the Israelites during 
the days of bondage. 

We did not ride through the city of Nablous at 
all, as the streets are very narrow and the arches 
under many of the houses so low that passage on 
horseback might be somewhat difficult. Besides, 
Nablous is strongly Mohammedan, and the people ex- 
tremely fanatical, and the conductor thought it best 
for us not to pass through. Nablous means 




127 



128 



3From Bmerica to tbe ©rtent 



''new city," the same as Naples. It is the 
modern town built on the site of ancient 
Shechem, so famous in Old Testament times, and has 
about twenty thousand people. Here Joshua came 
and built an altar to the Lord in Mount Ebal, and 
wrote upon the stones the law as Moses commanded 
and then, placing half of the Israelites on Gerizim 
and the other half on Ebal, he read aloud the bless- 
ings and curses of the law. At Shechem Joshua in 
his old age assembled all the tribes together and 
gained from them renewed promises of loyalty to 
God, after which he set up a stone as a memorial. It 
was at Shechem that Abimelech was made king, and 
here Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, went to be 
crowned king of Israel. The modern city of Nablous 
contains about twenty thousand people, one thousand 
of whom are Jews, Samaritans and Christians, the 
rest being Mohammedans. Some of us had visited 
the city the night before, and were greatly interested 
in the Samaritan synagogue, which we reached after 
a long walk under dark arches and through narrow, 
filthy streets. In this synagogue all the Samaritans 
worship. There are now only one hundred and sixty 
of them, the remnant of a venerable people who for 
2,500 years have followed the same customs and re 
ligious usages as their fathers. The synagogue was 
a small room, without seats and with no adornments 
on the walls. Two priests met us very kindly and 
willingly showed us the two famous manuscripts of 
the Pentateuch. The first shown was in a bronze 
case, chased with silver and gold representations of 
the Tabernacle. This we were told was 2,150 years 
old. The other, which the priest said was the orig- 
inal and of which the first was only a copy, was in a 



Zo Samaria anD S^enln 129 



silver case. This he said was 3,572 years old, and 
was written by Abishua, the great-grandson of 
Aaron. 

The Samaritan temple stood on the summit of 
Mount Gerizim. A large, flat stone now marks the 
spot, which the Samaritans call holy ground, and to 
which they turn their faces when they pray. 

After leaving camp we rode to the right of the 
city, passing through the valley between the two 
mountains, Ebal and Gerizim, with a fine view of 
both. The clouds in the early morning had given 
signs of rain, but they soon disappeared and the sun 
shone brightly. Our party were in good spirits, and 
particularly so because our early ride was over a 
level road on the carriage way to Jaffa, although 
from the grass growing in that road it looked much 
as though no carriages ever traveled over it. The 
great change in our feelings was well expressed by 
one who said : *T am feeling so happy that I could 
even speak pleasantly to the Sultan of Turkey if I 
should meet him." Some one replied to test the sin- 
cerity of his words : ''But how about that boy in 
Bethlehem, who lied to you and excited your indig- 
nation?" "Oh, I think if I saw even him I could 
hold my peace." 

After three miles we left the level carriage road 
on which we had been journeying so pleasantly and 
making such good progress, and turned off into one 
of those narrow paths in which we had already had 
so many trying experiences. Following this path, we 
began climbing a steep hill and for two and a half 
hours rode up and down steep hills by winding and 
rocky paths. One more exceedingly steep hill we 
ascended and then were in the modern town of 



I30 jfrom Bmedca to tbe (S^rient 



Sebastiyeh on the site of ancient Samaria, and we 
dismounted at the ruined Church of St. John. Sa- 
maria was beautiful for location and from the sum- 
mit of this lofty hill we gained a magnificent view of 
the surrounding country, unsurpassed by -anything 
we had yet seen in the Holy Land. 

The site of Samaria was purchased by Omri, father 
of Ahab, for two talents of silver from Shemer. Here 
he builded a city and called it after the name of the 
former owner. Samaria afterward became the capi- 
tal of the ten tribes of Israel. It was here where 
King Ahab built his ivory palace and the great tem- 
ple of Baal, which was served by four hundred and 
fifty priests, to please Queen Jezebel. Samaria was 
taken and destroyed by the Assyrians 721 B. C, after 
a three years' siege, and all its people were carried 
away captive. It was rebuilt and again captured and 
destroyed after a year's siege by John Hyrcanus in 
the time of the Maccabees. Herod restored the city 
and called it Sebaste, ''The August," in honor of the 
Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar. 

We saw traces of the beautiful temple built by 
Herod and rode through his grand colonnade of mar- 
ble pillars surrounding the town, of which nearly a 
hundred still remain. We then rode, and some 
walked, down a steep hill again, and at the foot 
of the hill came to the valley called Wady Bet Im- 
rin. Here, we spied the most charming wild flowers, 
and for the first time saw the black calla lily, of which 
so much has been written by tourists. The color of 
the flower is a dark, spotted purple, probably chang- 
ing color with age. The leaf, stalk and blossom, 
except in the color of the last, resemble very much 



tTo Samaria anb 5enin 



131 



our white cultivated lily. The fragrance is unpleas- 
ant, and no one cared to pick the second flower. 

We climbed another steep hill and had an exquis- 
ite view of Sebastiyeh and the valley. Going down 
on the other side through a narrow pass in the rocks, 
one of the palanquins came to grief. It was too wide 
to pass through the straight and narrow way. After 
some effort and delay the muleteers removed it from 
the mules, carried it over the rocks and then restored 
it to its usual place, when the procession moved on. 

At 12 130 we stopped for lunch back of the modern 
village of Ain El Seeleh. Another party of tourists 
were also lunching here by the side of a spring, where 
some women had come from town to do their weekly 
washing. The horse ridden by a lady of our party, be- 
ing anxious to join the horses of the other party, 
could not be controlled by his driver. In his efforts 
to have his own way rather than follow the will of his 
mistress, he came too near the washing women and 
as a result one of the earthen jars was broken. In- 
stantly such a wail of grief and despair arose from 
the owner that one would have supposed her whole 
household had been slain. But an English shilling 
was sufficient to heal all wounds and dry every tear, 
while the unruly horse was brought under control 
by the strong hands of a manly escort. 

We lunched this day under a large fig tree, while 
near us were groves of apricots and almonds, whose 
fruit was yet green. When we were ready to start 
on the afternoon ride, how we were amused to see 
the muleteers fasten the palanquins between the 
mules ! These palanquins had long poles on each 
side, extending like wagon shafts from both ends. 
Between these the mules walk, carrying the weight 



132 jfrom Bmertca to tbe ©rtent 



on their backs by chains, which are fastened to the 
poles and then hooked to the saddles of the mules. 
In order to put the palanquins in position for riding, 
the mules are driven between these shafts, which are 
then lifted up and hooked to the saddle. One of the 
mules in the rear invariably refused to allow this 
connection to be made. As soon as the palanquin 
was raised, he would begin jumping and kicking, 
making it for a time utterly impossible to fasten him 
to the poles. I tried to count the number of kicks 
to a second, but gave it up. It seemed as if there 
were a hundred feet in the air at once. The only 
way to make the unruly mule tractable was by twist- 
ing its ears so tightly that it seemed to forget all 
about anything else. When once the palanquin was 
in place, this very mule was the safest and best in the 
whole party, unless one came near its hind feet. 

Our ride after lunch was within sight of the town 
of Jabbok, and for several miles we passed through a 
beautiful and fertile valley, almost entirely covered 
with grain fields of wheat and barley, with here and 
there a field of lentils, while on the hillsides we could 
see numerous herds of cattle and sheep feeding. 
Crossing a slight elevation we came into the charm- 
ing and level plain of Dothan, and after riding several 
miles across this plain, we reached the "Well of the 
Pit,*' where tradition says Joseph was thrown by his 
brethren. Near this well was a second, with a water 
trough, the two accounting for the name Dothan, 
meaning "two wells." Above these to the north was 
a green hill with some ruins on the summit. This 
hill overlooks the wide plain of Dothan, where the 
sons of Jacob pastured their flocks, and on this sum- 
mit, possibly, Joseph went to look for his brethren. 



XLo Samaria anD 5enln 133 



There is a small, modern town at the foot of the hill, 
almost entirely hidden from sight by olive and fig 
trees, in which we could hear a steam engine in oper- 
ation. Riding a short distance we passed on the 
right the modern town of Abeiah, where we saw a 
great many camels. This was surprising, as we had 
been told by one whom we considered good authority 
that we would see no camels in northern Palestine. 
That same afternoon as we came near to Jenin we 
counted forty-five camels in one body feeding on the 
hillsides. 

After passing Abeiah we rode through great or- 
chards of immense fig trees, the largest and finest 
we had seen anywhere on our journey. They were 
said to be probably 400 years old. The trunks are 
the original, but the branches are cut off every few 
years and new ones take their places. Accordingly 
we often saw fig trees with huge old trunks and 
branches of only one or a few years' growth. 

Another ride of an hour through a narrow valley 
brought the camp in sight at the town of Jenin, and 
we were again glad to reach a halting place. The 
day had been beautiful, and the roads much better 
than on the previous days, but, as we had been in the 
saddle nearly ten hours since morning, we were thor- 
oughly fatigued. On this arrival there was a no- 
ticeable absence of a dirty crowd of sightseers around 
the camp, such as we had noticed on former nights, 
and the few who came were well-dressed and peace- 
ful. Everything was neat, clean and dry. The tents 
had been placed on a beautiful green sward, free 
from stones, and a bountiful dinner prepared by 
John was served by our faithful stewards. After 
dinner we warmed ourselves by the charcoal braiser 



134 



3From Bmedca to tbe ©rfcnt 



in the dining tent, felt at peace with all the world, 
and went to our beds where, notwithstanding we 
heard the calls of scores of jackals, like the laughter 
of children, we soon fell into pleasant dreams. 

T. E. D. 



CHAPTER XVIL 



CAMPING TOUR — OVER ESDRAELON. 

OUR JOURNEY to-day was to be shorter than 
usual, and so we did not start until eight 
o'clock. We first rode around the town of Jenin 
and found it to consist of about 3,000 people. 
It is mentioned in the Book of Joshua 
as Engannim and belonged to the ter- 
ritory of Issachar. Engannim means "Fountain of 
Gardens," and it is well named even in modern days, 
for a large spring east of the town supplies the 
stream that after running through the village waters 
the gardens and the fields outside. The inhabitants 
are almost all Moslems. Our ride for the whole day, 
with the exception of climbing the mountain at Naza- 
reth, was across the great plain of Jezreel, or Es- 
draelon, a most beautiful and fertile plain, the finest 
in all respects that we saw in Palestine, although it 
is said not to be as rich or varied in its productions 
as the Plain of Sharon. 

This Plain of Esdraelon is seventeen miles long 
and about nine wide. The black soil is really 
lava thrown up by ancient volcanoes. It is the largest 
level space in Palestine, and hence has been the bat- 
tle ground of the country for over forty centuries. 

135 



136 afrom Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



Every acre of its soil is rich with human blood. 
After two and a half hours' ride from Jenin, we 
came in view of the Mountains of Gilboa, a short dis- 
tance away on the right. It was here Saul and Jona- 
than were slain in battle, and as we passed I could 
not but remember David's mournful lamentation over 
Saul and Jonathan, found in 11. Samuel, i. Later 
we came to- the town of Zerein, the site of Jezreel, 
famous in the history of the tribes of Israel. Im- 
portant battles were fought in this vicinity. Near 
Jezreel Judah's best king, Josiah, met an early death 
in the valley of Megiddo. At the foot of the hill to 
the east of the town we were shown the spring where 
Gideon's army was tested and where finally the three 
hundred who lapped like a dog were chosen, to go 
forth and deliver the Israelites from the oppression 
of the Midianites. The city was built by King Ahab, 
as his country seat, and here he spent much of his 
time, and had his gardens and groves. It was to en- 
large his private grounds that he desired to secure 
the vineyard of Naboth, the site of which was also 
pointed out. Here Jezebel built a temple to Astarte, 
in which she had four hundred priests to minister. 
It was from this very tower that Jezebel was thrown 
out, by order of the conquering Jehu, and eaten by 
the dogs. It is now one of the most wretched and 
filthy towns we had seen, composed of mud houses, 
built very close together, many of them having no 
doors, but simply holes to crawl in not over two 
feet high, with no windows and no chimneys, and 
from many of them we could see the thick smoke 
coming from the entrance. Crowds of Mohamme- 
dan children followed us through the streets, calling 
us Christians and saying we would go to the bad 



®ver Eeftraelon 



137 



place. As we left the town, boys with slings threw 
stones at us. 

An hour's ride to the north and we reached Shu- 
nem, at the foot of Little Hermon, on the southern 
slope, while Nain, where our Lord raised the young 
man, is on the northern slope. The entrance to Shu- 
nem was through a road lined with hedges of im- 
mense cacti. These hedges were from twenty to 
thirty feet wide, and through them it was impossi- 
ble for ony one, man or beast, to force his way. I 
thought Jezreel was the most wretched place I had 
ever seen until I had passed through Shunem, and 
then I felt that ^'comparisons are odious." It was at 
Shunem that the prophet Elisha found that ''great 
woman" who built for him a little chamber where he 
might rest; and it was her dead child whom Elisha 
by a miracle restored to life. It was Abishag, a Shu- 
nammite maiden, who became the wife of David, in 
his old age. 

After riding through Shunem and down a steep, 
short hill, we suddenly came into a beautiful little 
lemon grove under the shade of whose trees, filled 
with fragrant blossoms, we saw our lunch spread. 
It was a delightful place to eat, and our appetites 
were no doubt increased by the surroundings. A 
crowd of Shunammites came down to see us eat, and 
quietly sat watching us with hungry eyes. There 
were sixty-four of them by careful count, without the 
two ugly, hungry dogs that also scented the food 
from afar and with avidity gulped down everything 
that was left from the table. No doubt they still re- 
member that day as a royal feast day in their his- 
tory. After lunch one of our clergymen read to us 
from the Bible, as appropriate tg the day's trip, Da- 



138 JFrom america to tbe ©dent 



vid's lament over Saul and Jonathan, and Elisha's 
miracle at Shunem, and also the account of the mira- 
cle on Mount Carmel, after which we all joined in 
singing ''Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing/' 
While the divine was reading, Amos, our pet donkey, 
began to bray loudly, and even the Doctor's stern 
command: ''One at a time, please!" did not silence 
him, nor would he keep still until one of the table 
waiters went and held his mouth shut. 

We were soon in the saddle again and fairly start- 
ed for Nazareth, still riding across the plain of Jez- 
reel. That city had been in sight up in the lap 
of the hills, but was now lost to view. The ride was 
delightful. The road was level and free from stones, 
and some could not avoid the temptation to urge 
their horses to a canter. We passed around the foot 
of Mount Hermon, came in sight of Mount Tabor, a 
majestic and well-rounded lonely mountain one 
thousand five hundred feet above the plain. 
From Mount Tabor, Deborah and Barak, with 
their army of 10,000 men, rushed down upon 
the mighty host of Sisera with his nine hundred 
chariots of iron and destroyed them. Near the 
foot of the same mountain Kleber with three thou- 
sand French soldiers held in check the whole army 
of the Turks, consisting of fifteen thousand infantry 
and twelve thousand splendid cavalry, for six dread- 
ful hours, when Napoleon from the summit of Tabor 
saw the fearful struggle and came to the rescue 
of the wearied Kleber, carrying death and destruc- 
tion to that mighty Turkish host. In fact, around 
the foot of Mount Tabor the war cry of nations 
for four thousand years has filled the air. Perhaps 



139 



no single mountain if it could speak could tell such 
tales of battles fought and won as^ Mount Tabor. 

When we had nearly crossed over the plain of 
Jezreel we met with a novel experience. The road 
led across a brook, with soft, deep mud beneath the 
water. There was no bridge and our only way of 
crossing was by fording. The horses jumped and 
plunged, sticking fast in the soft mud and almost 
throwing us off, but by the shouts and whips of the 
muleteers they brought us safely across, with a little 
more of mud and water on our clothing, but no other 
damage. A much more interesting and amusing part 
of the crossing was with the occupants of the palan- 
quins. They were not willing to risk it in their 
"houses," but if they were to be submerged in the 
waters they preferred to select their own way and 
place of the immersion. As there were no other don- 
keys or horses on that side of the stream to carry 
them across, one of the muleteers volunteered to 
transport them in safety to the other side. The Dean 
of the company had spent an hour previous in riding 
in one of the palanquins, taking the place of "Queen 
Marie." He was of heavy weight, and the muleteer 
vv^as far from being a giant. With the venerable 
preacher on his back, we looked on with some de- 
gree of fear and anxiety. Would he be able to bear 
that weight of wisdom and theology safely to the 
other side? Suppose he should make a misstep in 
the soft mud and be like the blind leading the blind, 
both falling into the ditch. Or suppose in the mid- 
dle of the stream he should grow weary and sit 
down to rest, or consider it an opportune time to 
stop and demand "bakshish." While all these ques- 
tions were revolving themselves in our minds, how- 



I40 jfrom amerfca to tbc ©dent 



ever, the muleteer was patiently plodding along, and 
he landed his burden in safety on the grassy bank 
amid the applause of the throng. He now went 
back for "Queen Elizabeth," who was waiting her 
turn to be "backed'' across the brook. We were 
more anxious now than for the preacher, for here 
was the sunshine of the camp, and one accident to her 
already had made us extremely desirous that at least 
she should not be drowned. But the muleteer tucked 
her feet under his arms; she held him, O, so tightly 
about the neck, and she, too, was taken across in safe- 
ty. Then our conductor, Mr. Tadros, whose horse 
refused to take him over, was carried across. The 
mules finally brought the palanquins over without 
harm, and then we were ready for a fresh start up 
the hill leading to Nazareth. 

We soon ascended a hill nearly a thousand feet 
high, climbing up a steep, rocky road, which, how- 
ever, bore some evide»ce of human work ; it was 
not all made by the feet of animals as were most 
of the roads we had been traveling. Reaching the 
summit, we looked back, and more than one of us 
thought it was the grandest view we had yet had. 
There was some descent on the other side, for Naza- 
reth is not on the top of the mountain, but in a nat- 
ural basin with the mountain ridges as walls sur- 
rounding it. 

Our first view of Nazareth as it lay on the hillside 
in the form of an amphitheatre was very attractive. 
Everything from a distance indicated a more cleanly 
and thrifty condition than that of any town we had 
viewed. As we approached, we came to the carriage 
road leading to Haifa and this we followed until we 
reached our camping ground. Going down this hill 



©vet :66&raelon 141 



the Dean and his palanquin met with some difficulty, 
just what could not be ascertained. This moved one 
who viewed the scene to put it into rhyme : 

The preacher he rode In a palanquin, 
And a royal smile on his face was seen ; 
With haughty disdain he looked around 
On the pilgrims on horseback and those on the ground. 

'*I ride like a king o'er my royal domain, 

And no one shall ride this palanquin again. 

The muleteers looked wise and said ' bakshish, two francs,* 

And the mules cut up their hilarious pranks 

* Then the preacher resolved, with hasty discretion, 

No longer to be an Arab patrician, 

But tumbled quickly from off of his seat 

And meekly came into camp, — on his feet." 

Our tents were pitched on a beautiful green field on 
the finest camping ground we had yet found. After 
giving the horses in charge of the muleteers and go- 
ing into our tents to remove the dust and dirt of the 
day's travel, we were anxious at once to visit the 
town so full of sacred associations in connection with 
the life of our Lord. For here was His home and 
here He spent His childhood, youth and early man- 
hood in humble toil, waiting and preparing for the 
great work of His life, afterward to be condensed 
into the brief space of three years. 

We saw all the traditional sites of the town in con- 
nection with Christ's life : the home of the Virgin ; 
the spot where she received the announcement of the 
angel that she was to be the mother of the Messiah ; 
the workshop of Joseph and the site of the house 
where Jesus lived. We also visited a chapel, where 
we were shown a large, flat stone carefully covered, 
from which they said Jesus ate with His disciples. As 
usual I gave little faith to these traditions, but be- 



14^ from amedca to tbe ©dent 



lieved that somewhere in this same place our blessed 
Lord lived and worked and walked with men. In the 
chapel built over the traditional carpenter shop of 
Joseph was a remarkable painting by a French artist, 
Joseph Le Font, which we admired exceedingly. This 
painting had only been here a year and a half, and is 
not, therefore, mentioned by any guide book. The 
scene is the carpenter's shop. Jesus, a boy of about 
twelve years, stands by a workbench making a cross. 
Joseph, with saw in hand, stands on the other side 
looking on intently but seeming only to notice the 
progress the bright boy is making in learning the car- 
penter's trade. Mary, the mother, sits at the end 
of the bench, with loving face watching her son. Her 
face was the sweetest I have ever seen. Her look is 
one of gentle, strong, motherly affection, and yet 
there appeared to be much more in it than that. It 
is a look far beyond the present, in which the cross 
becomes a bitter reality, and her mother heart is 
yearning in its sorrow over her first born. The face 
of Jesus is one of beautiful, sweet childhood, in which 
there are already visible traces of the strong and no- 
ble manhood that He afterward exhibited.* 

Returning to our camp, we passed the Fountain of 
the Virgin, the ancient and present water supply of 
Nazareth. Here women were constantly coming with 
their large water jars, which they filled, and then, 
balancing them on their heads, carried them away 
without using their hands. Many of the women of 
Nazareth are Christian. They are said to be the best 
looking and best dressed of all the women of Pales- 
tine. There are no Jews at present living in Nazareth. 



*The picture was specially photographed for the party and 
is reproduced m the frontispiece of this work. 



143 



An interesting feature of a subsequent afternoon 
in Nazareth should be noted, and perhaps this is a 
good place for mentioning it. When some of the 
party were upon the hill back of the city, watching 
the sunset and the extraordinary views of mountain 
and valley (see Chapter XIX), others were invited 
by the chief dragoman, Mr. Nssaire, to visit the 
home of an uncle, where a half hundred more or less 
of his ''cousins" were gathered. The house was 
newly built, of white stone, well cut, and was at- 
tractive and clean within and without. Coffee was 
served, there were music and dancing, and conversa- 
tion was carried on in both English and Arabic. 
Bright, sprightly boys and girls, and intelligent, well- 
dressed men and women were in the throng, and they 
were as delighted with their visitors as the visitors 
with their hosts. It was a merry and happy hour 
for all concerned, and gave us a good insight into 
the characters and customs of some of the plain but 
good Christian Greeks of this quaint and attractive 
''city on the hill," our visit to which will long be re- 
membered. 

T. E. D. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



CAMPING TOUR — TO SEA OF GALILEE. 

HERE ARE two views in Palestine which will 



A always stand out clear in my own memory as 
just a little more charming and enrapturing 
than any on the whole journey northward 
from Jerusalem to the mountains of Lebanon. 
The first has been referred to in the preced- 
ing chapter, and is described at length in the 
next, embracing the view from the hill behind the vil- 
lage of Nazareth, whence are seen the plain of Es- 
draelon, the mountains of Gilboa and Carmel and the 
Mediterranean Sea. The second is that view of the 
lofty ranges of hills which surround the Sea of Gali- 
lee, with the waters in their lap like a shield of lapis 
lazuli in setting of gold and red and gray; brightest 
under the morning sunshine, calmest and tenderest 
in the shades of twilight. It is this latter picture 
which was a little nearer, it would seem, to the heart 
of Jesus when He became a matured man than any 
other in the region of Galilee. 




144 



Photo, hy Miss Foster. 
CAMPING TOUR-ENTERING CANA (Page 145). 
Showing- HedgTs of Cacti, grown for purposes of defense. 




Photo, hy Miss Coit. 
CAMPING TOUR-NOON LUNCH AT CANA (Page 154). 



Photo, by Rev. Dr. Hutton. 



ON, OR HELIOPOLIS-THE OBELISK. 
(Page 206). 



tlo Sea of (BaHlee 



Nazareth itself is in a basin between high hills, 
thotigh perched hundreds of feet above the plain to 
the south. To get out of it you first ascend until 
you obtain a lovely but final view of its trim, white, 
stone houses and its groups of pretty maidens at the 
Virgin's Fountain. Then a long descent is made 
over a fairly good carriage road, and the country 
becomes slightly rolling for a few miles until we are 
past ''Cana of Galilee." All the way to Tiberias, 
which is on the seashore, and which is some twenty- 
five miles away from Nazareth, we met long car- 
riages, much like our old-fashioned stages, each with 
three horses, taking travelers to or from the shores 
of the inland sea. It is the first real road we had 
seen since leaving Jerusalem, except the piece of one 
at Nablous, whence it takes off to the southwest to 
Jaffa. It was now in parts scarcely traversible, and 
in the early spring mtist have been deep in mud. 
Som.etimes our horses kept in it, but quite as often 
they chose paths for themselves to the left or right 
of it, where the footing was more even. 

Gath-hepher was, perhaps, the most picturesque 
site in view from our pathway. It was off to the left, 
high upon a hill, and out of its ruins tall trees were 
growing. It was the birthplace of the prophet 
Jonah. Cana was conspicuous as we approached it 
chiefly from its high rows of cacti on either side of 
the road. It is now a village of half a thousand peo- 
ple, poorly constructed, and yet ranging a little 
higher in order than the mua villages we had passed 
in Samaria, and far superior to Shunem, the town 
we had last visited prior to reaching Nazareth. We 
were interested in Cana because the Lord's first mir- 
acle had been performed there, but not sufficiently 



146 



f r6m America to tbe (Orient 



interested in humbugs to enter the church in which 
were kept the supposed jars wherein the water was 
turned into wine for the marriage feast. The water 
fountain by the roadside may have been, doubtless 
was, the same from v;hich those at the marriage drew 
the water for the feast, for every village had one 
fountain, near or far away, and its hidden springs 
have been flowing on through all these past centuries, 
with no rivals to come upon the scene. Palestine 
may lose, one by one, its springs and river beds, but 
it gains no new ones ; and so, when you now see a 
natural fountain, it is almost absolutely certain that 
it was flowing long before the Christian era. There 
were maidens here with their pitchers, but we did 
not tarry, for there was a long road before us. Wc 
could muse, however, as we passed on, over the ear- 
liest miracle of Christ, and over the later one when 
the nobleman's son, who was at the point of death at 
Capernaum, sent to Cana to obtain the word of cure 
from Jesus, and we could remember that Nathaniel, he 
with whom there was no guile, had been born there. 

From this point forward for an hour, perhaps, we 
were crossing a tableland, wide and fertile, poorly 
cultivated, yet abounding in pleasing views and beau- 
tiful flowers. These flowers had strewn the way- 
side from the city of Samaria onward, and we never 
grew weary of their brilliant hues and exquisite 
shapes. At times they were as numerous as in the 
gardens of Kew, and as rich and rare as the most 
elaborate rugs on the floors of the nobles in Damas- 
cus. It was a trifle too late to find them in their full 
luxuriance on this route to Tiberias; we had seen 
them in more regal magnificence on higher lands and 
in a cooler atmosphere near Samaria. Still we could 



to Sea of Galitee 



147 



count myriads of them at times, and each cluster 
seemed to sing out praises to Him who had ''consid- 
ered the lilies of the field" and loved them. 

In an open field of stubble we rested for a forenoon 
lunch, and from this hour on it was a long, hard 
pull over a hot plain before we reached the spot from 
which we could obtain our full bearings and be as- 
sured we were drawing near to the day's dearest 
goal. In the meantime one sugar-loaf hill to our 
right furnished a noble picture for the memory. It 
was Mount Tabor, round and smooth as the dome of 
St. Peter's, greener and lovelier than any of the sur- 
rounding hills, dotted here and there with umbra- 
geous oaks, which looked, however, in the distance 
like cattle grazing in fields of wheat. The Transfigura- 
tion may or may not have occurred on its summit, 
but it is so central for the plains on either side that 
it might well have been the scene of a drama so tre- 
mendous in the history of the three beloved disciples. 
To the left were the Horns of Hattin, the Mount of 
the Beatitudes, and, while later we had a fuller view 
of them from the body of the lake, we could here dis- 
cern the ruggedness of the crags and boulders which 
surrounded the depression where, perhaps, the mul- 
titude stood when Jesus pronounced his memorable 
*'Blesseds." These two scenes were all that could 
fairly claim our attention and stir special emotions 
as we wended a weary way on and on under a red- 
hot sun, without a speck of shade for the last half 
of the way, and with neither fountain of water nor 
sign of habitation. Cotild it have been so when the 
Saviour trod these paths over and over between Naz- 
areth, or Cana, and Capernaum, where was His long- 
est abode during His public ministry? Were these 



148 



jfrom Hmedca to tbe ©dent 



plains and hills so bare and so cursed with drought 
as to-day? Was the population so sparse, the road- 
way so rough and the solitude so profound? Per- 
haps not. But the traveler, of to-day at least, must 
pursue his journey much of the way as if he were in 
Siberia, an exile and ''a prisoner of hope." - 

We saw Bedouins as we neared Tiberias, but no 
other people. My own horse proving a hard rider, 
and the hundred miles of overland horseback jour- 
ney to this point having proved extremely fatiguing, 
I dismounted when first the hills surrounding the 
lake came into view, expecting that a half-hour's 
walk would bring me down to the level of the waters. 
In this way I fell far in the rear of the party, and, 
ere I was aware, they had disappeared and I was near 
a Bedouin camp almost wholly alone. For a moment 
an involuntary sense of fear crept over me. They 
looked peaceful enough, the men Dy their tethered 
horses and the women and girls by their tents, but 
what if they should prove to be robbers ? 

At about this point that wonderful view of the 
Lake of Tiberias, or Sea of Galilee, noted in the open- 
ing paragraph of this chapter, opened up to the eye 
and made me forget the Bedouins and everything 
else but the scene. The atmosphere was as clear as 
crystal, notwithstanding the intense heat of the sun. 
How small the sea seemed to be, and how profoundly 
still ! Not a ripple on its purplish bosom. Not a 
sound on its rocky shores. Not a bird in the still, 
hot air. Not a boat where once a hundred vessels, 
with their curved white sails, went to and fro, to 
carry commerce from shore to shore, or to bear 
sturdy fishermen to deeper places in the lake. Not 
a city of the nine teeming cities, not a village of the 



XLo Sea of 0alllee 



149 



scores of populous villages which once lined its 
shores, to be discerned with the eye or with the glass. 
The one city of Tiberias was yet hidden from sight, 
and there is no other now on Galilee. Down and 
down you look to see this body of water, for it is al- 
most seven hundred feet below the level of the Medi- 
terranean, and it was from three to four hundred 
feet lower than where I stood. And then those hills 
on hills, range on range, round about, girting it like 
sentinels, watching over it as a mother over her sleep- 
ing child. Light limestone rocks, gray tertiary de- 
posits, yellowish clay beds, which may have been 
thrown open to view by earthquakes ; red sandstones, 
black basalts and lava streams from now extinct vol- 
canoes, were all intermixed and added to the pecu- 
liarity of the prospect. I had thought of this sheet 
of water as embowered in wooded hills and grassy 
slopes, but the first view of it was so unexpectedly 
unique and picturesque, so strange and romantic, so 
serene and solemn, that it captivated me, until I had 
passed the ''robbers" and forgotten all the perils by 
the way. 

The downway road to Tiberias was winding and 
disappointing, long and tedious. It seemed to take 
a full hour to make the descent. But at last I 
reached camp, and found the main party had gone on 
to a spot a mile or more beyond the city where boats 
were to be in waiting, and there they had already 
lunched. 

All we cared to see of Tiberias we saw in thus 
passing by it, and, in the dusk of the evening, going 
through one of its streets to reach the camp, which, 
as usual, was outside the city limits and toward the 
west. It is a fairly large, not very thriving town, 



ISO jFrom Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



with no attractions per sc, and no historical associa- 
tions connected with Christ. Its chief modern fame 
consists in its wealth of fleas ; happily we did not see 
or feel them in our tents during the one night of our 
stay. One of the party went still further down the 
lake and shore and took a bath in the hot spring 
bathhouse, which has been located there from time 
immemorial, but he reported the same to be primitive 
and, on the whole, disagreeable. 

It was about three o'clock when we entered into 
three large boats, each about twenty-five feet long by 
nearly six feet wide (and they were two out of the 
only dozen or thirteen on the entire lake), and strong 
men began to propel them with clumsy, heavy oars, 
our bows being turned toward the north end of the 
lake. The water was as smooth as glass, clear and 
deep, and every prospect was of a perfect afternoon 
on Galilee. These were sacred waters, none more 
sacred in the whole wide world, and we could not 
readily express our unusual and deep emotions. 

O Galilee, sweet Galilee, 
Where Jesus loved so oft to be ! 
O, GaHlee, blue Galilee, 
Come sing thy song again to me." 

We had sung that in camp before, but thereafter 
it assumed a new and tenderer meaning. 

We might have gone on foot, or horseback, along 
the western shore from Tiberias to Magdala and have 
had equally good views of the water, but this would 
not have brought us quite so near to the life of the 
disciples and the people who surrounded the Great 
Teacher when this was the center of His active 
labors, nor to that of the Master Himself, for we 
know how often, by day and by night, He must have 



Zo Sea of (SaUlee 



151 



been in the same kind of boat, often rowing and at 
other times being rowed, and as often sailing before 
the fresh morning breeze toward the numerous vil- 
lages that then lined the shores. Our three cumber- 
some boats carried in each only six or seven persons 
besides the two oarsmen. We made good speed, but 
the distance ahead to row was some eight miles, and 
as much to return. 

Far in front of us was the line of the snowy-white 
range of the Lebanon, and on either hand were gorge- 
cut hills and cliffs and a stillness like that of the Dead 
Sea. In the course of a half-hour a breeze suddenly 
blew up. The lake became ruffled in a moment. 
The wind was ahead and it required more strength 
to row than before. Would it be possible with a still 
stiffer breeze to reach Bethsaida and Capernaum, 
both, and perhaps Magdala, and yet return by dark? 
Hardly. We promised "bakshish" if a little extra 
muscle were used. This made our one boat shoot 
ahead of the other, and we fairly distanced it by a 
quarter-mile in the next half-hour. The breeze now 
quartered more and a sail was lifted. This helped 
us substantially, and in good season we reached the 
shore near Bethsaida. Alighting from the boat, we 
walked on the beach, composed almost wholly of small 
white shells, for about ten minutes, and found the 
supposed site of the village where Andrew, Peter and 
Philip lived before their call into the apostleship of 
and fellow^ship with their dear Friend and Lord. 
Only a few tumble-down buildings were in sight and 
no people ; the place was uninhabited. But there 
were several boys and two fishermen on the shore, 
and, to our intense delight, the latter were fishing 
with nets, as Peter and Andrew had so often done, 



152 3From America to tbe ©dent 



and probably with the same kind. We saw them 
dexterously throw these nets, with their numerous 
sinkers, so that they struck the water flatwise and 
sank to the bottom, for the water there was not over 
two feet deep. Stooping down they would find the 
fish entangled in the net, and, by pushing them along 
to the edge, the fish were then raised with the meshes 
tightly around them, and placed in the fish-bag 
thrown over their shoulders. I was so interested in 
the thirteen caught in this manner, before our eyes, 
that I offered to buy them and completed the bargain 
by handing out the equivalent of twenty-five cents. 
Two cents per fish ; and we had them next morning 
for breakfast, and splendid eating they proved. The 
fish were called moosht and the lake abounds in 
them. They were flat in appearance, about eight 
inches long and four wide. 

From this point we could only look off toward Tell 
Hum (Capernaum) and wish the afternoon were 
longer. But the sun was getting low and we found 
we could neither visit that spot nor Magdala, much 
less the coast of Gadara on the east. 

All this north end of Galilee is barren of people or 
towns. The soil is fertile but dry, and there were 
crops growing. There are few trees, but many low 
shrubs. Gennesaret, that plain which in olden times 
was the favorite gathering place of masses of peo- 
ple to hear Jesus preach the new Gospel of love and 
to be fed at His hands, lay to the northwest, unten- 
anted even by sheep, as peaceful and quiet and rest- 
ful to the eyes as some of the uplands of northern 
Scotland. Here was the centre of teeming popula- 
tions nineteen hundred years ago, and now there was 
the desolation of death. 



Photo by Rev. Dr. Richards. 
CAMPING TOUR-MEETING WATER CARRIERS ON THE 
PLAIN OF JEZREEL (Page 135). 




Photo, by Rev, Dr. Richards^ 
ON THE SEA OF GALILEE (Page 151). 



Photo, by Miss Coiu 
JOHN, THE COOK," (Page 120). 



Co Sea ot ©aUlee 



153 



Why did Jesus select this Sea of GaHlee for the 
scenes of His early ministry ? Was it because it was 
near his former home — only a day's journey? Was 
it because it was far removed from Jerusalem and 
the abode of humble folk? In part so, perhaps. 
But everything, then, must have conspired to make 
the region one of unusual influence among those 
classes to whom He first desired to preach, the indus- 
trious poor and the humble pure. It was the only 
spot in North Palestine so tropical that the services 
of the primitive church could always be held out of 
doors, and it was rich in honest, hardworking men 
and women who longed for something better than the 
teachings of rabbinical scribes and pharisees. And 
then it was so isolated and so beautiful ! 

Our return was with sails fully set and at a quick- 
ened pace, owing to the promises of extra pay to the 
boatman who should put his crew into Tiberias first. 
Such a race as it was for the last half of the journey ! 
We were so intent on achieving the victory that I am 
afraid we did not enjoy as thoroughly as we should 
the serene and splendid sunset over the heights of 
Hermon. As the shadows of the hills lengthened 
and deepened, their sharp contours became more 
graceful, and twilight fell just before we landed on 
a quieted lake again, once more as peaceful and lovely 
as a summer's dream. 

We sang that evening in our tents ''Sweet Galilee" 
with unusual fervor and with thankful hearts, and 
were mindful next morning of the singidar fact that 
in those tents were bushels of white daisies ! 

In the morning, early, we bade adieu to Tiberias 
and went up the western slopes in the usual single 
file, looking back over our horses again and again at 



154 3from amedca to tbe ©dent 



the exquisite prospect. The vast amphitheatre of 
the lake, thirteen miles long and from six to eight 
wide, grew smaller and smaller as we receded from 
it. It was a m^orning fit for Eden. Never was the 
air clearer, nor the sun brighter, nor the prospect 
fairer. ''Full of grace and peace," I thought, as I 
looked finally at the bosom of the lovely waters. 
''Peace, be still!" said the Master, once, and His 
peace was surely brooding there now and would con- 
tinue there forever. 

We lunched in a grove of figs at Cana. The usual 
mixture of onlookers, chiefly young, were there, but 
they had long since ceased to attract much of our at- 
tention, which was fully paid to the appeasing of 
hungry appetites. 

And all the while our thoughts went back to the 
dear, blue waters we had left behind and to which our 
visit had been all too short. The pleasure of that 
brief visit was ours for only one day, but even yet— 

How pleasant to me thy deep blue wave, 

O sea of Galilee ! 
For the glorious One who came to save 

Hath often stood by thee. 
Fair are the lakes in the land I love, 

Where pine and heather grow, 
But thou hast loveliness above 

What Nature ean bestow. 
Graceful around thee the mountains meet, 

Thou calm-reposing sea ; 
But oh I far more, the beautiful feet 

Of Jesus walked o'er thee." 

A. V. D. H. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



CAMPING TOUR — A SUNDAY IN NAZARETH. 

AS HAS been noted in a preceding chapter, we 
had spent a night in camp at Jenin, a town on 
the southern border of Esdraelon, just where the 
hills of Samaria fall away into the great Plain. Next 
morning at sunrise we gained a wonderful view to 
the north, for over the lovely green of the Plain we 
saw the rampart of Galilean hills, with snowy Her- 
mon beyond. The blue haze of distance made a 
heavenly vision of this entire hill country, and when 
we saw far up the hillside indications of a little city, 
it seemed no unworthy dwelling place for the Son 
of God. But we had to mount our horses and ride 
across the Plain, and up those hills ; and before the 
day was done we found the enchantment had faded 
out of the prospect, leaving us a large amount of dis- 
mal and squalid reality. Jezreel, where King Ahab had 
his splendid summer palace ; Shunem, where a certain 
great woman kept her prophet's chamber furnished 
for the entertainment of Elisha, — shall we ever rub 
out from our memories those pictures of hopeless 
degradation, the mud hovels, the filth, the rags and 

155 



156 3from amerka to tbc ©rfent 



beggary? And even Nazareth itself, that village far 
up the hillside, with its show of greater prosperity, 
its glib salesmen and guides, its air of smu^ respecta- 
bility, — when one was trying to fit his thoughts to the 
scenes of the childhood of Jesus, I am not sure but 
even the wretched, cursing children of J'ezreel were 
less offensive than a certain well-dressed youth ot 
Nazareth who pestered me for an hour with his offer 
of cigarettes and cigars, and ended with asking me to 
give him half a franc! 

Perhaps, after all, this painful disenchantment was 
a part of the lesson we had come so far to learn. The 
real Nazareth in which Jesus lived his holy childhood 
and youth was no sanctified cloister, comfortably re- 
mote from the wickedness and wretchedness of men, 
but a place of unsavory reputation, where a carpen- 
ter's son growing toward manhood might learn by 
heart all the difficulties and discouragements of a 
holy life. 

But our stay in Nazareth was not to be altogether 
disappointing. To those who wait patiently some 
day the vision will return. On Sunday afternoon 
some of us started up the side of the hill on which 
die city is built. Picking our way through a laby- 
rinth of narrow streets, after a considerable ascent 
we found ourselves facing the front or lower entrance 
of the beautiful English Orphanage. In the little 
schoolhouse beside the gate a company of children, 
forty or fifty of them, were gathered for a Sunday 
School service, and were singing very sweetly. As 
we listened to them and watched them it became 
easier to believe that even children of Galilee are 
not past saving. From the cursing, begging mob 
who assailed us in Jezreel^ or Cana, to these little 



B Sun&ai5 in Ifta^aretb 157 



singers with their bright faces and gentle voices, was 
a long step, but, if the step has been taken by some, 
why should we despair of the others ? When we left 
the Orphanage to continue our climb up the hill, one 
of the children came with us a little way to show us 
the path, and, when she left us, her blushing but firm 
refusal of the proffered ''bakshish" convinced us 
that the teachings in this institution must take an 
admirably practical form. 

Gaining the summit of the hill we sat down for a 
long afternoon of undisturbed delight ; no vexing im- 
portunities of guide or peddler to trouble us here, 
nothing but the genial companionship of the grass 
and the flowers and the sunshine and the wonderful 
prospect ; for this ought to be named among the most 
wonderful mountain prospects in Palestine or in the 
world. On the north the view is bounded and domi- 
nated by snow-clad Mt. Hermon ; to the east, beyond 
the mysterious depression of the Jordan valley, 
stretches the rugged range of the mountains of 
Gilead and Moab ; to the west the blue Mediterranean 
and the long dark line of Carmel ; and to the south, 
beyond the wonderful Plain, the mountains of Sama- 
ria. Considered as a view it was worth our long 
journey to see it. But this cannot be considered 
simply as a view. Sitting on this hill you find the 
whole long course of the sacred history spread out 
beneath you. We looked off to the southeast upon 
.the rounded peak of Mt. Tabor, where Barak collect- 
ed his troop on the night before he rushed down upon 
Sisera and the hosts of the Canaanites, and defeated 
them. A few miles further, round the corner of 
Little Hermon, w^as Gideon's spring, where he tested 
his soldiers before he broke in upon the camp of the 



158 3from amedca to tbe ©dent 



Midianites. Directly above this we could see the 
crest of Gilboa, where Saul fought his last fight 
against the Philistines, and the mighty were fallen in 
the midst of the battle. Over there, on Mt. Carmel, 
at the other end of the Plain, Elijah had his contro- 
versy with the prophets of Baal. And when they 
were slain and when the cloud appeared out of the 
west, like a man's hand, and quickly the heavens were 
black with clouds and wind and rain, the hand of the 
Lord was on Elijah and he girded up his loins and 
ran before the chariot of Ahab all the way to Jezreel, 
more than twelve miles across the plain, as the crow 
flies: and the whole course of that footrace was 
spread out visibly before us. 

We felt sure that the child Jesus had often stood 
upon this very spot, and fed His imagination with the 
stirring events from the history of His own people. 
But to us the scene was most of all interesting be- 
cause of what it recalled to us of the story of that 
Jesus Himself. Just below us the mountain village 
where He was brought up, being subject to His par- 
ents and increasing in wisdom and stature and in fa- 
vor with God and man. Beyond the hill to our left, 
about three miles away, lies Cana, where ''the con- 
scious water knew its Maker's voice and blushed.'' 
A little farther, in that deep valley whose bottom we 
cannot see, lies the Sea of Galilee, where so often He 
worked and taught, and called some of the fisher folk 
to Him that He might make them fishers of men. On 
those slopes of Hermon one day as He prayed He was 
transfigured, and His disciples beheld His glory. 
Facing us on a hillside to the southeast we can just 
distinguish the village of Nain, where one day a man 
lay dead, the only son of his mother and she a widow. 



B Sunbai2 in IRasaretb 15O 



In those mountains of Samaria, blue with distance, 
if your eyes are good, you may trace the outline of 
Mount Ebal, and on the further slope of it you know 
there is a well where one day a woman came to draw 
water, and heard strange words from a traveler rest- 
ing beside the well. Beyond Mt. Ebal and about 
twice as far away, if these nearer mountains could be 
drawn aside, you may fancy that you would see the 
Holy City and Olivet. 

The whole expanse of this landscape, already hal- 
lowed by God's dealing with His ancient people, has 
been made more sacred for us by the footsteps of our 
Lord. Only a week ago we were standing on the hill 
without the city wall where our Lord suffered ; and 
here to-day we have been resting for a little while 
on this height in the midst of that Galilee where He 
gathered His disciples about Him and worked and 
taught. And so long as we live these two Sunday 
afternoons will be freshly remembered. 

W. R. R. 




CHAPTER XX. 



CAMPING TOUR — TO HAIFA. 

IT WAS a glorious dawn that signalled the end of 
our camping trip. Henceforth we should travel 
by the more conventional steamboat, or train, and no 
longer trust our horses to find a safe path over 
treacherous stones, or to carry us gaily across level 
plains. 

One or two characteristic incidents marked our de- 
parture from Nazareth. We had said good-by to 
the portion of our caravansary that was to return 
to Jerusalem, and instructions had been given for the 
tender care of little "Amos." Then came the final 
ordeal with the local photographer, and once more we 
submitted ourselves to be presented to posterity in all 
the dilapitude of costumes that had weathered rain 
and sun,' and whose efYect was heightened by the "ku- 
feyehs" dangling from behind our hats. In vain did 
the palanquin mules kick against being placed in the 
foreground of the picture. They, too, must submit. 
Welcome to restive horse and rider was the "all over" 
1 60 



Photo, by Miss Oiler, 



OUR FAITHFUL FRIEND "'AMOS." 
(Page 16(1). 



to Malta 



i6i 



and the command to start. But at this juncture ap- 
peared numerous small boys eager to persuade one 
of the most generous of our number to part with 
som.e of his shillings for their poor tobacco, Nazareth 
ploughs, or, most appropriate of all, hand crocheted 
lace. 

Finally extricating our friend from their clutches 
we began in earnest that toilsome ride to the sea. 
With Nazareth we seemed to leave the Holy Land and 
to enter again the wider world. From 8 until ii 
o'clock we journeyed steadily, and then came a short 
halt under a fine old oak, whose friendly shade was 
unusually welcome. It could not last long, however, 
for hunger spurred us on to our noon resting place. 
That lunching spot — shall we ever forget it ! Not all 
the rugs in the mosque of Omar could vie in coloring 
with the carpet Nature had spread for us. Corn flow- 
ers, poppies, anemone, clovers, cyclamen, and many 
whose names we knew not, these each and all con- 
tributed to the glory of the whole. Above us were 
the finest trees we had seen in Palestine, and under 
them we would willingly have tarried long, had not 
Mt. Carmel loomed up at such a distance that we 
knew to reach it before dark we must move on. 

Across the plain of Esdraelon we rode, noting with 
interest the encroachments of western civilization. A 
railroad was being constructed by an English com- 
pany, but the stones for ballast were being carried in 
baskets on the heads of native women. When wea- 
ried by our long ride we were suddenly refreshed by 
a glimpse of the Mediterranean lying at the foot of 
Carmel and at first dimly visible through the waving 
palm trees. Hurrying our horses on, we at length 
came to Haifa, where we paused long enough to learn 



162 3From Smedca to tbc (&nent 



the direction to the monastery, whither three of us 
concluded to go, as we could do so and return before 
nightfall. Treading the narrow streets, then through 
the more spacious European quarter, we came out 
again to the open, where we began to ascend the side 
of the mountain. All day we had travelled on a fine 
road, one of the few in the Sultan's domains, and 
even this path was a great improvement on the 
rough trails in the interior. Up and up we climbed 
and more and more of the sea stretched out before 
us ; sails shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, and 
the shadows lengthened along the cultivated fields. 
Reaching the top, all below us lay peaceful and happy, 
as if it were not, under Turkish rule, the great East- 
ern symbol of lawlessness and extortion. Dismount- 
ing from our horses, a monk met us, and took us 
around the monastery. He showed us here the 
Grotto of Elijah. Truly the prophet of old had 
found a good place to escape from the world in the 
silence of this mountain. 

Travelers are sometimes entertained over night 
here, but the hospitality extended to us consisted in 
a drink of the sweet wine of the country, thought to 
be very palatable. It would have been a pleasant 
place to pass the night, perhaps. The clean, white 
structure was built around a court and hung like an 
eagle's nest on a crest overlooking the sea. But com- 
ing into the harbor was a vessel, reminding us that 
we must again turn our faces toward Haifa. Slow- 
ly and regretfully we began the descent. This happy 
outdoor life was drawing to a close. To all, how- 
ever, it had not been an unmitigated pleasure, as we 
were assured when we reached the notel at Haifa and 
learned of the sorry plight in which some of our com- 



tlo Haifa 



163 



panions had come into town. Since Time wipes out 
the memory of discomforts, it is not now worth while 
to go into detail save to say that the palanquins had 
been turned into ambulances for the most weary, and 
the occupants w^ere safely and soundly in bed, to 
remain there until the whistle of the Egyptian Line 
steamer blew at ten o'clock to convey them and us to 
Beirut. 

J. G. F. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



DAMASCUS. 



N THE road to Damascus and such a glorious 



ride, crawling up, up to the height of five 
thousand feet right into the region of clouds and 
snow, winding about the mountains, catching fas- 
cinating glimpses of Beiriit lying far below us on 
its beautiful, curving shore, and on the other hand 
feasting our eyes upon the lovely valley spread out 
before us like a rich Persian rug in its varied col- 
ors, walled in by the magnificent Lebanon range, the 
highest peaks glistening with snow. 

We have ascended all this time and are now be- 
ginning to see the clouds on a level with us and the 
great patches of snow all about us, when we believed 
we had left summer behind us in Beirut. Occa- 
sionally we hear the sound of a stream and suddenly 
we come upon a baby waterfall tumbling down a steep 
cliff. It is made by the snow melting upon the hill- 
side. There is scarcely any vegetation up here, but 
as we descend we see more and more cultivation, 
until we reach the Abana river, which literally flows 
through a garden for almost its entire length. The 




164 



©amaecus 



165 



train carries us along its bank, and the rushing, hur- 
rying river, appearing and disappearing in its winding 
course, fascinates us and we feel after a time as if 
we were running a race with it. The apricot or- 
chards along its banks are in full bloom, the trees 
growing close to the water and in many cases fairly 
in midstream. As the river flows through the city of 
Damascus, it remains with us all the last miles of the 
way. 

We arrived in the city about four o'clock and were 
landed in the usual turmoil of a railroad station, with 
drivers shouting and gesticulating and every one ex- 
cited. In such a tangle of horses and carriages, if we 
had not become accustomed to it and to Jehu-like 
driving we might expect to have been killed at any 
moment. The drive from the station was warm and 
dusty and so the cool courtyard of the Hotel Bes- 
raoni, with the fountain in the centre, was most re- 
freshing. 

Having a little time before the dinner hour, I took a 
walk through the bazaars. So much has been said 
and written about the bazaars of Damascus that my 
expectations were up to the highest pitch, and I cer- 
tainly felt the fascination of wandering through the 
principal streets with their arched roofs and bewil- 
dering little shops, whose doorways are framed with 
tempting articles for sale. As I was looking about 
a young man came up, presented his card and invited 
my friends and myself to enter his bazaar, whereat 
our own party guide turned upon him fiercely, struck 
him with his cane and called him a robber. The 
proprietor of another bazaar came up to the guide's 
assistance, seconding the remark that the other dealer 
was a robber. For a few minutes we had a lively 



i66 jprom amerfca to tbe ©dent 



scene, but, as I was wondering what would be the out- 
come, the engagement ended as suddenly as it began. 
I shrewdly suspected that ''our friend in need" and 
our own guide had an understanding that we were to 
be taken into his bazaar to the exclusion of others, 
for we eventually landed there. 

Could I realize that I was in one of the oldest cities 
in the world, some say the very oldest? How old is 
Damascus? Charles Dudley Warner's "In the Le- 
vant" says : "According to Jewish tradition, which 
we have no reason to doubt, it was founded by Uz, 
the son of Aram, the son of Shem. By the same tra- 
dition it was a great city when a remarkable man of 
the tenth generation from the Deluge — a per- 
son of great sagacity, not mistaken in his opinions, 
skilful in the celestial science, compelled to leave 
Chaldea when he was seventy-five years old on ac- 
count of his religious opinions, since he ventured to 
publish the notion that there was but one God, the 
Creator of the Universe — came with an army of de- 
pendents and reigned in the city of Uz." But while 
tve are looking about and trying to grasp all this an- 
tiquity, we are in danger of being run down by a 
heavily loaded donkey, or a string of camels moving 
toward us with their measured tread. We must 
walk in the middle of the street, as there are no side- 
walks, and we are obliged to learn how to dodge our 
way back and forth through the crowds, a feat which 
we had successfully practiced in other cities. 

Where' shall 1 begin to write of all the strange 
sights which passed us in review, sights like a pan- 
orama of extremely odd and interesting pictures. 
Here is the lemonade man, have we not seen him 
before on the dock at Alexandria? We hear a jingle 



Dama6CU6 



167 



of brass cups and looking to see where it comes from, 
find close beside us a man with a large glass jar slung 
across his chest filled with lemonade (I could act- 
ually see the lemons floating in it) and a piece of 
ice in the top of the jar. His cups are in a funny 
sort of case buckled about his waist. Suppose we look 
into some of these small shops as we pass. There 
is a man, only a few yards back from the street 
stirring candy in a great brass kettle over a fire, and 
1 can see the result of his labors in this round flat 
pan placed on the top of a wicker stand. He seems 
to sell his sweets right out of the same pan in which 
it is cooled. You do not have to look inside the next 
shop to see the owner making ice cream, for he is 
working in the street, freezing: his cream by a very 
slow process I should say. Here are some delicious 
looking cookies and all sorts of sweets, some tempt- 
ing but m.ore often quite the reverse. And what 
about these people's clothes? There is a deal of 
sameness about the women's costumes ; the only va- 
riety being in color, the women of one sect wearing 
black, another white and a third striped goods, all 
made after the same pattern. There are two full 
skirts, the outer one being drawn up over the head, 
giving a decidedly ugly appearance to the back. These 
high-class women are wholly veiled ; the lower class 
wear a plain, long, usually blue gown and no veil. 
The costumes of the men are more varied and often 
much handsomer. On this hot day we shall see quite 
a number with long broadcloth coats, lined with fur. 
Another costume usual all over Palestine and in 
Greece looks something like a gymnasium suit, with 
all the fullness hanging down between the knees and 
it is extremely awkward. 



i68 jfrom america to tbe ©rient 



Our guide soon directed us to one of the bazaars, 
where we could inspect rugs, silks, inlaid work and 
brass to our heart's content, and, if we have the 
money to spare, could squander it all on these costly 
articles. When you step within the doorway a cur- 
tain is lowered, and you have the feeling that you 
are imprisoned and must pay to get out. 

It is getting late and shutters are being put up, 
so we must be off and away. As I reached the street 
corner after leaving the bazaar, our guide attracted 
my attention to a minaret very near, where the priest 
was calling to prayer. I waited a few moments to 
hear him, but the sound of his voice came very faint- 
ly owing to the noises in the street around us. I was 
surprised that so few appeared to answer this call. 

The Eastern people impressed me as having a great 
deal of spare time on their hands. Still they seem to 
know how to use it, for they play checkers or domin- 
oes in front of their shops, or smoke nargilehs in a 
comfortable way. 

Next morning we started out for a drive. It 
proved rather a disjointed affair, for we were obliged 
to get out and walk many times because of the nar- 
row streets. We visited the Great Mosque, which 
was burned six years ago and is now being restored. 
One section is already built up to the roof and the 
ceiling is decorated in those rich and varied colors 
peculiar to Moslem architecture before the walls of 
the other parts are finished. We looked into the 
Church of John the Baptist, now used as a mosque, 
but we could not enter. There were two rows of 
beautiful marble columns, rich though small, stained 
glass windows and magnificent Turkish rugs upon 
the floor. We mounted next a hign minaret and ob- 



2)ama6CU6 



tained a fine view of Damascus surrounded by its or- 
chards and guarded by the glorious mountains, Her- 
mon with its cap of snow crowning all. The view 
of the city itself from there is peculiar, for the houses 
are low and flat, some having queer, dome-like tops, 
which look like ant hills, and many of the streets are 
covered with curved roofs. The effect is monoton- 
ous, but is relieved by the minarets, of which there 
are several scores, most of them nretty and graceful. 

We visited the tomb of Saladin. It is difficult to 
become accustomed to the amount of color lavished 
on these Oriental tombs. Green and gold are the fa- 
vorites, and every one has the turban carved over the 
top of the headstone. A glass case over Saladin's 
tomb holds a wreath presented by the German em- 
peror. He has promised a gold crown, but it has 
not yet come to hand. 

The peculiar interest in this city to me was in the 
fact that Paul first lived here after his marvellous 
conversion near the city. We visited the house of 
Ananias and were led through a neat little paved 
courtyard to a small underground chapel, which con- 
tained an altar and a few seats for worshipers, all ex- 
tremely plain and simple. 

Through a door in the street wall and an unin- 
viting alley we reached a pretty courtyard with a 
fountain in the center and with flowering trees and 
shrubs. This was a private house and we were 
shown into the different rooms opening on the court, 
where we satisfied in some degree our curiosity as to 
how the people of Damascus live. The rooms are 
much alike, except that the draperies and decorations 
in some are handsomer than in others. The divan 
ran round three sides of the rooms and the ceiling in 



170 3from 2imenca to tbe ©dent 



the best room was elaborately painted. The ladies of 
the family were seated in one of the rooms smoking 
nargilehs, but somehow did not seem to match their 
surroundings. We explored various little cupboards 
and niches and discovered that the bedding is laid up 
on shelves during the daytime to be spread upon the 
floor at night. 

We next drove outside the city to see the tradi- 
tional site of PauFs escape. It is only a corner of the 
wall which has not crumbled down as yet, and I en- 
deavored to picture the scene of the fleeing Apostle 
and the basket. Beyond this point is a rather unin- 
teresting road and it passes the burying ground, 
where some of Mohammed's family lie. Later we 
turned into *'the street called Straight" and entered 
upon another long succession of entertaining sights. 
One was of a man sitting on the sidewalk (there 
seems to be really a sidewalk here) mending shoes 
and taking up the entire width of the walk with his 
materials. Beyond him was a man having his hair 
cut, also in the street. And here were one, two, 
three, four carpenter shops in a row. Each trade 
forms a group of its own. It was odd to see them 
holding the pieces of wood with their toes as they sat 
before their lathes, turning the latter with their hands. 
Next was a row of shoemakers cutting out bright 
pieces of leather and then hanging up red slippers all 
about them, making again a pretty spot of color. 

On the afternoon walk we heard a strange noise 
directly opposite the hotel. It proved to be a snake 
charmer, who was drumming on a strange looking 
tambourine and singing in a monotonous voice to 
• his snakes as they bit at his fingers. But there was 
nothing very wonderful in that, since their fangs hsid 



Bamascue 



171 



been removed. The silver bazaar, which was next in 
order, was a weird place. It appeared like a cave 
with small alcoves to form the shops ; the light was 
very dim and all noises seemed deadened. Here we 
found many of these workshops, with two or three 
men in each, making the filigree jewelry that is so 
characteristic of the East. I wandered about here 
for some time feeling as if in a dream and then 
turned homewards to really dream about all the 
strange sights and sounds our company had been 
passing through that day. 

E. C. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



THE TEMPLES OF BAALBEK. 

IT WAS with a sigh of regret that we turned our 
backs on Damascus. It was leaving the heart of 
the Orient ; and no one could do that unmoved. In 
that thronging crowd of Oriental life we feel that 
we Occidentals are lost in the great flowing stream of 
the East. A week could have been spent delightfully in 
just watching the crowds in their strange costumes, 
the workmen and the ways of the place. Yet we 
had seen all there was to see in the tourist sense, and 
to have lingered would only have been to repeat. So 
we went down to the railway station to retrace part of 
our journey of two days before. The train, com- 
ing from some place farther up the country, had not 
arrived and we were standing rather wearily wait- 
ing when a most polite attendant brought chairs 
and, with a smile of beaming good will and exhaust- 
less benevolence, begged us to sit down while we 
waited. It did look considerate of him. Yet those 
w^ho sat had occupied their chairs but two or three 
minutes when he demanded instantaneous rent ! It 
t'omehow made it seem easier to leave Damascus. 



172 



ttbc Semptee of JSaalbefe 17s 



Entering the train we soon retraced our way along 
the rushing Barada, crossed the anti-Lebanon and 
the Beka'a, and were at Mallakah-Zahleh. Accord- 
ing to the time-table of the railway the trains from 
Beirut and Damascus ought not to arrive at exactly 
the same moment, but the former should reach the 
station half an hour earlier, giving its passengers 
time to get their lunch at the restaurant and be ready 
to leave just as the latter brings up its quota of hun- 
gry travelers. But they usually manage to meet so 
as to interfere with one another's luncheons, and this 
particular day the matter was still further compli- 
cated by the fact that on our train was a great Rus- 
sian general with his two gorgeous "kavasses" and 
his military suite, so that the restaurant people quite 
lost their heads. However we got some sort of lunch 
finally, and set out on our long drive in curious car- 
riages with brightly colored calico curtains. 

It was a beautiful day although slightly w^arm. The 
road ran up the valley known as the Beka'a, the 
grade slowly rising all the way as we drove on for 
four hours to our destination at Baalbek. The drive 
was pleasant, although we began to wonder where the 
ruins were, as they scarcely show until you are close 
upon them.. About a mile before entering the village 
we saw the *'Kubbet Douris" a few rods from the 
road and leaving the carriages w^alked aside to ex- 
amine it. "Kubbet" means dome, and ''Douris" is 
the name of the village near by. Whatever it was 
once this ruin is no longer a *'dome." It is a circular 
"praying place" of the Moslems, made by setting up 
stone pillars with pieces of ancient architrave join- 
ing their tops, the whole being obviously plunder 
from Baalbek. The singular thing about it is that 



174 jfrom America to tbe ©dent 



these columns are red syenite from Egypt and far up 
the Nile. How they came first at Baalbek is a ques- 
tion in ancient transportation not easily solved, for 
the columns are twenty feet in height and nearly three 
in diameter, and consequently heavy. 

Reaching the modern village of Baalbek we were 
driven to the ''Victoria Hotel," the quaintest of all the 
quaint Oriental hotels which we encountered. As 
neat as wax, it gathered itself around its little cen- 
tral court, its balconies all tiled in red, and, opening 
off one of them, two little bedrooms with a sitting 
room between them, the latter having no side wall, 
but opening by an arch the whole width of the room 
on the balcony and with a broad divan across the op- 
posite end of the room. Perhaps the oddest thing of 
all to find in so remote a spot was the sole chamber- 
maid, who spoke very good English, and proved to 
be a native of Baalbek who had migrated to Spring- 
field, Mass., where she had learned the trade of dress- 
maker, became engaged to be married to a brakeman 
on the Boston and Albany Railroad, and had returned 
all the way to her native town for a brief visit to 
show what she had grown to, and who had, rather by 
anticipation it must be confessed, taken already the 
Irish name of her brakeman instead of her own 
Syrian one. These are the things which make the 
world seem small. 

As the afternoon was fast waning we did not then 
stop to gather these details or even to examine the 
hotel, but hurried at once to the ruins. In extent, 
impressiveness and elaborate beauty they far sur- 
passed our expectations. First we skirted the tem- 
ple area and looked at the retaining walls. No doubt 
the buildings are of many ages, the unfinished sculp- 



tEbe €emple0 of :fi3aalbek i7S 



tures in some places running well on into the Chris- 
tian era, but it seems equally plain that parts of the 
great constructions run back into Phoenician ages 
and the dim dawn of prehistoric times. In the walls 
are specimens of Cyclopean masonry. Great stones 
are there over sixty feet in length, thirteen in height 
and probably as much in width, laid without mortar. 
Probably they are the largest stones ever used any- 
where in a building, and they date to the very earliest 
times. To add to the impression which they pro- 
duce they are laid nineteen feet above the spectator 
who stands at the base of the wall. How they were 
quarried, how they were placed in their positions 
and by whom, will probably never be discovered. 
These things are hopelessly lost in the mists of a 
hoary antiquity. 

It is needless to repeat here what may be found 
in all the guide-books, or in ''Alouf's History of 
Baalbek." History, statistics, dimensions and de- 
tailed architectural descriptions may well be left to 
sleep in their places until wanted — where whoso de- 
sires to investigate them may search at his will. We 
need not now linger over the traditionary history 
which makes Nimrod the originator of the temple 
of the Sun, or even that which supposes Solomon, 
far later, built a temple at Baalbek for the god of one 
of his wives, which, after he had passed away, the 
Phoenicians and then the Romans successively added 
to and embellished. The general style of the archi- 
tecture, an over-ornamented Cojinthian, shows that 
embellishment continued late into Christian times, 
perhaps into the Third Century. The Christian Em- 
peror Theodosius (379-395) discontinued the heathen 
use of the temples and altered one of them into a 



17^) JFrom america to tbe ©dent 



church. The Turks and the Arabs, too, have had a 
hand in their history, using parts of the buildings 
as a fortress, thus ruining some of their most pic- 
turesque features. Earthquake also has shaken them 
again and again, especially in 1759. 

But it is still bewitchingly beautiful. Retnains of 
two temples are yet standing in the great inclosure. 
Authorities have differed as to which was the Temple 
of the Sun, and which was that of Jupiter. But it 
seems to stand to reason that in a town whose name 
means "Sun-city," the largest temple would be that 
to the sun. So the best authorities now hold. We 
entered the precincts by a long vaulted subterranean 
passage of Roman origin, emerging from which we 
were in the court. In front of us were the six tall 
columns still standing of the Temple of the Sun-god : 
a little to the left was the Temple of Jupiter. It was 
a strange revelation and experience, too, from the 
long drive across the unmarked plain and from the 
squalor of the modern village, into all that splendor. 
Only pictures can do it justice. The Temple of the 
Sun has almost vanished. Once fifty-eight columns 
of yellow stone, each sixty feet in height, made of 
three superposed drums each seven and a half feet 
in diameter, grouped themselves in haughty grace 
about the central building, their smooth shafts 
crowned with rich, almost too rich, Corinthian capi- 
tals. Now only six are standing. Yet imagination 
can reconstruct the once splendid vision. Beyond it 
lies what was formerly the entrance court, bearing 
on its stout sidewalls the niches, covered still with 
alternate gablets and arches of stone, which shad- 
owed and protected the long vanished statues which 
once looked down from them. The court itself is 441 



^be tTempIee of JBaalbeft 177 



feet long and 369 wide. When the glow of the set- 
ting sun was on these long lines of splendor the 
effect may be imagined. 

The smaller temple, that of Jupiter, is less ruinous. 
It stands a little to one side of the larger edifice. Its 
four walls are essentially intact, although the roof 
has disappeared. The exterior columns are more 
than half of them still standing, the capitals of some 
of the double row on the front being not only elabor- 
ately carved, but their shafts elegantly fluted, while 
the ceiling between these exterior columns and the 
main walls are deeply coffered in a sort of stone net- 
work out from the intricacies of which human faces 
look down and peer. On the inside the great cham- 
ber is lined by pilasters, or half columns, with fluted 
shafts and exceedingly rich Corinthian capitals, the 
whole presenting a scene of singular richness of de- 
tail. Indeed, the details are sometimes too rich for the 
highest and most chastened taste. Nevertheless the 
whole effect is one of singular charm. In the thick- 
ness of the front wall is a concealed stone staircase 
up which we climbed to look down on the wonderful 
chamber from the level of its roof. We wandered 
about the vast enclosure, inspecting room after room, 
and court after court, not neglecting even the Arab 
fortress which v/as made out of part of it, not at all 
to its architectural advantage. We are not likely any 
of us to forget the three sunny hours we spent in 
these exquisite and impressive ruins. 

Through the golden softness of the sinking sun 
we retraced our path to the ''Victoria." On our way 
we paused to inspect the ancient mosque whose nave 
and aisles show plainly yet that it was once a church. 
It has evidently been built out of spoils from the an- 



178 Jfrdm Btnerica to tbe ©dent 



cient temples. Few of the pillars were alike and 
their capitals were also unlike, — often did not match 
the columns which they crowned. Here would be a 
polished red granite column made by hand, as was 
evidenced from the fact that while looking regular 
and true to the eye, one's touch is instantly aware of 
inequalities in its surface. Others were of alabaster; 
others yet of limestone. The roof was burned off 
years ago, and although it could be restored to-day 
at a small expenditure, the Moslems abandoned it and 
built a new and uninteresting mosque according to 
their usual custom of rarely repairing a sacred build- 
ing. Still further along the street we came upon the 
graceful little circular temple now called the ^'Temple 
of Venus,", with its incurved polygonal architrave, 
rich with graceful carving, mournful yet beautiful to 
this day. 

The writer went out on the roof of the ^'Victoria" 
after night had fallen. The singular brilliance of 
the Syrian stars lit all the sky and the new moon 
hung still in the west. Ghostly and dim in the un- 
certain light the mighty columns of the Temples of 
Jupiter and of the Sun stood in solemn quiet not two 
hundred feet away. And so, like a symphony which 
dies into silence, our day at Baalbek ended. 

M. H. H. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



AT BEIRUT AND DOG RIVER. 

F*OR THE majority of the party, this Sunday 
spent at Beiriit was truly a day of rest. The 
beginning of the heat was much felt, but in 
spite of the warmth of the sun, we 
all went to the morning service at the 
American Presbyterian Church. It was a 
refreshing and homelike service in a fine large 
church, with good organ and choir. The pastor of 
the church, who was a Scotchman, conducted the 
opening exercises, and the sermon was preached by 
the Rev. Dr. R., a member of our party, from the 
text Haggai 2 : 9. We were far, very far, from our 
homes, but the accustomed delights of worship and 
habitual turning of the heart and mind toward the 
great truths of our holy religion, even in a heathen 
land, were like a spring of refreshing water which 
made the day one of rest and calm to us all. 

After this quiet, restful Sunday, we were fully 
ready on Monday morning to plan and execute an 

179 



iSo jfrom fimedca to tbe ©dent 



expedition not set down in the programme of ar- 
rangements. 

The steamer which was to carry us down the Syr- 
ian coast to Egypt would not leave until evening, so 
there were several hours before us of bright sunshine 
and delicious air. As we looked out in the early 
morning at the exquisitely blue sea, rolling its gentle 
waves in upon the small beach at the front of the 
hotel, and then over the closely built town, to the 
amphitreatre of hills encircling it, we realized that 
before us was certainly one of the fairest spots on the 
face of the earth. Northeast of the town, stretching 
his mighty roots to the very edge of the sea, towered 
the giant Sannin, his great, rounded summit covered 
with the whitest of snow; so ethereal, so majestic, 
that it seemed no exaggerated expression of feeling 
to say, as a visitor of former years had done, that 
he felt as if he were seeing a vision of the Great 
White Throne ! 

Early in the morning, the sun rising far off over 
the Anti-Lebanon range strikes his rays first upon 
this great snow summit, towering against the sky. 
All day long it appears to grow whiter and more bril- 
liant under the level rays, a most insistent object in 
the landscape, seeming much closer at hand than it 
really is. Then, with the sinking of the sun in the 
waters of the sea, a most delicate roseate flush creeps 
over the mountain top, lasting long in the twilight, 
and finally changing to a strange, solemn gray at the 
summit of the great purple mass of mountain. San- 
nin alone was occupation enough for a day. 

But there were other things beside mountains to 
see, and several of the party were anxious and ready 
to go to the famous Nahr-el-Kelb, the Dog River, 



Bt JBeirut ant) lS>og IRiver 



i8i 



with its world-renowned inscriptions. Taking car- 
riages soon after breakfast, a few of us, accompan- 
ied by a guide, started upon the expedition. It was 
a morning's trip, of several hours' ride, but no one 
found it fatiguing. The sunshine was bright, the 
air soft and the scenery most beautiful. We passed 
through the edge of the town lying upon the shore 
and soon got out into the country toward the east 
and north. The road followed the curve of the large 
and beautiful bay of Beiriit, known as St. George's 
Bay, because legend records that the hero and saint 
of that name here killed the ''mighty worm" and 
rescued the Syrian princess. At the left was the in- 
tensely blue sea, with its small waves breaking in- 
cessantly on the white beach, while to the right was 
a constant succession of orchards of mulberry trees 
in full and luxuriant leafage, just ready to feed the 
thousands of silk-worms which in a few days would 
begin their greedy lives. It was with great interest 
that we heard about the process of silk-worm raising, 
the most important and remunerative occupation of 
this whole region. Everywhere were to be seen 
throughout the orchards preparations for building 
the booths in which the culture is conducted. 

After crossing the Beiriit river on a long, many- 
arched bridge, the hills began to draw down to the 
sea, and soon before us there rose a steep, rocky 
promontory, between the edge of which and the sea 
there was just room for our carriage road. Round- 
ing the point, we had arrived at the mouth of Dog 
River, and the opening of the deep and rather gloomy 
ravine down which it rushes from its source far back 
in the Lebanon range. At a little khan by the road- 
side we left the carriages and followed our guide up 



i82 jfrom Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



the steep rock-path of the bold headland, by succes- 
sive terraces broken out by Nature, or hewn out by 
man to make roads for conquering armies. This 
seems to have been a favorite route for the monarchs 
of Egypt and Assyria in their movements back and 
forth, and here are the inscriptions and carvings we 
had come to see. 

They are cut in the perpendicular sides of living 
rock along the ascending paths, all of them looking 
out toward the sea, and so nearly obliterated by the 
action of the weather upon them, that it is only in 
the most favorable light that they can be made out at 
all. There are nine in all, three of which can be 
recognized as Egyptian, and the rest, Assyrian. They 
were undoubtedly intended to commemorate victories, 
but which ones will probably never be known, as the 
inscriptions are almost gone, and only the faintly out- 
lined figures remain. Here is a full-length sculpture 
of an Assyrian king in one of the best preserved slabs 
but with no inscription. There is another monarch 
of Assyria with a curly beard and long robe, the 
panel covered with cuneiform inscriptions which may 
have been carved much later than the figure, as they 
are sharp and clear. On this same slab is a writing 
engraved by the French expedition of i860, so that 
many different ages and civilizations are here re- 
corded. Layard thinks that the Assyrian sculptures 
are the work of Sennacherib, whose invasion of Syria 
took place in 701 B. C. The Egyptian work is much 
more ancient, and consequently fainter. According 
to Lepsius, it relates to different expeditions of 
Rameses II., who lived in the fourteenth century be- 
fore Christ. There is little to be seen on the panels 
but ci few hieroglyphics or the dimmest of figures, 



Bt JSelrut an& Wog Wvcx 



183 



smoothed off by the steady roll of over three thou- 
sand years. 

Coming" down again to the road, and walking a lit- 
tle way up the ravine, there is to be seen on the rock- 
face, sharp and clear as if cut yesterday, a fine Latin 
inscription hewn by the order of the Emperor Mar- 
cus Aurelius, about 180 A. D. It records the fact 
that he had opened up the rocky pass which begins 
here. Further on there is an Arabian inscription on 
a large slab in the rock at the foot of the bridge, 
stating that it was last restored about 1520 by Sul- 
tan Selim I., the conqueror of Syria. 

So the records of widely separated ages are here 
gathered together, making it a unique spot to visit, 
and most interesting to those who are able to look 
at it with the eyes of sentiment and imagination. The 
afternoon of this day found us embarked on a steam- 
er to travel down the Syrian coast on our way to 
Port Said and Cairo. 

M. E. H. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE LAND OF GOSHEN. 

HEN Jacob, with his children and his grand- 



V V children, his flocks, cattle and other wealth, 
went down from Hebron into Egypt to see his long- 
lost son Joseph, then governor of that country, tra- 
dition says that Joseph was at On, known to the 
Greeks and to us as Heliopolis. Whether the meet- 
ing took place near there, or nearer Tanis, it was not 
in the land of Goshen, but at the least a day or two's 
journey from it. The narrative says: ''And Joseph 
made ready his chariot and went up to meet Israel 
his father, to Goshen; and he presented himself unto 
hirri, and fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a 
good while." It was but a little distance Joseph had 
to go as compared with the long desert journey of 
two hundred and fifty miles which his venerable sire 
had just concluded, yet it awakens most pathetic as- 
sociations to think of that chariot drive of Joseph to 
meet his father, who had come in one of the "wag- 
ons" sent up into Canaan for him by Joseph's order, 




184 



^Tbe XanD- ot ©osben 185 



and then the affectionate and tender meeting ! It 
seems to me I see Jacob now, with his caravan of 
camels and oxen, cattle and horses, goats and sheep, 
relatives and servants, wagons and household goods, 
crossing that divisional line near where the old Suez 
Canal of Darius I. afterward ran, and where the pres- 
ent canal also has its course (at El-Kantara), and 
proceeding on westward toward the Pyramids, still 
finding on his right and on his left only the yellow, 
drifting . sands. An uninteresting, tiresome road, 
over which the few remaining bushels of grain saved 
from the years of famine in Canaan were carried to 
feed the animals, as there was no pasture by the way. 
In a day or two more the land of Goshen was skirted, 
and, while it was withered by the same famine, it had 
some water and it looked like a goodly land. Some- 
where here, on the verge of Goshen, occurred the af- 
fectionate meeting of father and son, and just here 
''in the best of the land" of Egypt, Pharaoh permit- 
ted these despised ''shepherds" of the north to settle 
permanently. 

The long railway ride from Port Said to Cairo, 
one hundred and forty-seven miles, has nothing in 
it to attract the attention save three things, and the 
interest in them is progressive as each is named. The 
first is the straight line of the Suez Canal, by which 
the railway runs on the west. Owing to its em- 
bankments, the canal itself is rarely visible from the 
train, but large ships on its surface often glide by 
like things of life. The canal is eighty miles long. 
We passed along about fifty miles of it to Is- 
mailia, where the railway diverges to the right and 
goes in a straight line for ninety-seven miles further 
to Cairo, It is suspected from some old Egyptian 



i86 jfrom America to tbc ©rlent 



documents existing that on quite this identical spot, 
before the time of Moses and probably before the 
days of Jacob, a canal existed and formed the east- 
ern frontier of Egypt. There were walls and fort- 
resses along or near its course, and these are de- 
scribed, without distinctly mentioning the canal, as 
early as 2466 B. C, or seven hundred years before 
Jacob came to Goshen. In any event the great Da- 
rius, King of Persia, completed, or perhaps reopened, 
a canal here 500 B. C, and Trajan restored it about 
100 A. D. The traces of it were everywhere visible 
when De Lesseps dug the one which was opened, in 
1869, after an expense of $95,000,000. The second 
point of interest was the crossing place of the cara- 
van route from Palestine, the same now which was 
used through all the ages since people came into 
Egypt from the direction of Syria. The Christ 
Child came over it in His mother's arms some sev- 
enteen centuries later than Jacob, and to-day we may 
view it as a narrow way, over which one's eyes never 
look in vain in either direction without seeing camels 
and their burdens. Unfortunately I missed the 
view at just this spot, for the sand was monotonous, 
the heat great, and our train probably whisked over 
it when I was otherwise engaged. The third and 
best sight is the Land of Goshen, and this no one 
could pass over by day and fail to note as a spot of 
great fertility and some beauty. 

The one train took us to Ismailia, where we 
changed trains after lunching in the station and eat- 
ing food we had brought along from Port Said. The 
change was necessary because of the transition from 
a narrow to a broad gauge road. We had good com- 
partment cstra from Port Said tg Igm^ilia; frQm th^ 



Zbc XanD ot 0O0ben 187 



latter place to Cairo the compartments were on the 
less attractive plan. They permitted some twenty- 
four or more passengers in each compartment in- 
stead of ten ; and, as a result, we had many strangers 
with us, to such an extent that some of us sat upon 
the floor and others stood up, and all were crowded 
the whole distance from Ismailia onward. Tele- 
graphing for, or even engaging, reservations in 
Egypt, as in Italy, is generally a useless precaution. 

Of course it was a bright day, for what other days 
ever come in Egypt? In fact, we saw later, when in 
Cairo, some cloudy hours, and if we had been in 
America it would certainly have poured rain. But 
as a rule the same unclouded days followed one an- 
other, hot as a furnace when the breezes did not blow, 
although usually a stiff wind swayed the tops of the 
palms and filled the sails on the various deltas of the 
Nile. 

No one can quite comprehend the desolateness and 
the billowiness of the Egyptian desert until he has 
seen it. The sand is not white like shore sand, but 
of deeper yellowish hue, and, while often it lies level 
for stretches of miles, it as often appears rounded up 
into small and great mounds and sometimes immense 
hillocks. And there is not a shrub nor spear of 
grass to vary its deathlikeness. It must teach an 
awful lesson of patience and faith to travel on for 
scores of miles over such an arid waste and not 
see a spring of water, nor a green herb, and not 
listen to the song of bird or voice of man. 

Ismailia looked like a pleasant and active city. It 
did not exist until the latest Suez Canal was being 
constructed; then De Lesseps saw its good position 
midway between the towns of Port Said and Suez, 



i88 



3from Bmedca to tbe ©rient 



and it sprang into being. The sand comes right up 
against its doors ; yet it has water suppHed from the 
''Sweet Water Canal," that runs hither all the way 
from the Nile, and with its growing population is 
said to ''blossom like a rose." 

It is not a great distance westward from Ismailia — 
say thirty miles — to the old city of Pithom, the treas- 
ure city built by the toiling Israelites, who had to 
make bricks for Pharaoh without straw. The discovery 
of the site of Pithom, in 1881, we owe to M. Naville, 
and it is to be hoped, as it is now quite accessible to 
travellers, being near the railway station of Mahsa- 
meh, there may some of us visit it in the near-by 
future. 

Where exactly did we enter the Land of Goshen? 
Scholars and investigators will disagree. But 
Goshen would seem to have been a limited territory 
on the extreme southeast of the fertile portion of the 
Nile delta. The triangle which would be made on 
a map from Zakazik southerly to Belbes, thence 
northeasterly to Tell-el-Kebir, and thence northwest- 
erly to Zakazik, is now believed to have described, 
with fair approximateness, the land given to Jacob 
and his posterity. If so, the railway from Ismailia 
first enters it near Tell-el-Kebir, which is just beyond 
the cemetery, where a monument marks the resting 
place of the British soldiers who were slain in the 
battle with Araby in 1882. We are still here in the 
desert, so far as the path of the railway goes, but off 
there to the south you see a beautiful green tfact fol- 
lowing the line of the Freshwater canal, and this is 
the beginning of Goshen. 

That Freshwater canal is from henceforward for 
some miles a most conspicuous object to the south, 



tibe XanD of Oosben 189 



Who made it? The great Rameses II., to supply 
water from the Nile to those treasure-cities, the 
building of which kept the Israelitish bondmen em- 
ployed for many years. It was and is a grand mon- 
ument to a most ancient and cruel cause. 

"And thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and 
thou shalt be near unto me," said Pharaoh, "thou and 
thy children and thy children's children, and thy 
flocks and thy herds and all that thou hast." How 
tender the invitation to sojourn for all time in this 
spot of rich land, and all because of the affection the 
king had for his good prime minister, Joseph, the 
Governor. The royal house of Pharaoh was at 
Tanis, about thirty-five miles northeast of Goshen : 
only a single day's journey for Jacob if he wished 
to have audience with the king, or for Joseph, if, 
when he was staying at court, he desireil to go out 
and see his father. Goshen was so situated that it 
was on the edge of the fertility of Egypt, but neither 
within the bounds of disagreeable activity, nor of too 
great proximity to the court, in case of war. It was 
an ideal spot for the growth of a thrifty and vir- 
tuous people. 

Our train ran slowdy and soon after we first saw 
the Freshwater canal on the left we found the area 
of fertility widening. Presently it reached to the 
railway track ; then crossed it. In one minute, as it 
were, we had wholly crossed the boundary lines of 
desert, which had followed us with severity all the 
way from Port Said, and were completely in a terri- 
tory "of milk and honey." Everything of death had 
passed away and all was life and prosperity. Not 
an acre but was under cultivation. Barley fields were 
ripe for the harvest. Pasture lands there were few, 



igo jfrom Hmedca to tbe ©rient 



for rich crops grew on nearly every acre. We 
saw nothing in all Lower Egypt excelling and rarely 
anything equalling the richness of this Land of Go- 
shen. Small canals and irrigating ditches carried 
the ^'freshwater" everywhere. The shadoofs were 
in operation in many places ; that is, long poles, 
weighted at one end, and with a skin bucket at the 
other, operated by a ''fellah" from morning to night. 
He dipped down the pool and filled the bucket from 
the canal, drew it up and emptied it out into a ditch. 
It is said that six men working all day with this 
shadoof, from sunrise to sunset, can irrigate two acres 
of wheat or barley; and for this the wages of each 
would be but a few cents. Men were holding wood- 
en ploughs hauled by oxen. In the isolated pasture 
patches were flocks of goats and sheep, the sheep al- 
ways black, or parti-colored, never white, and the 
goats very similar in colors. Here and there were 
groves of date-palms, and near them little mud vil- 
lages, disagreeably ugly as they everywhere are. 

It is twenty miles from Tell-el-Kebir to Zakazik, 
the one side of the triangle of the land of Goshen. 
It is yet, and perhaps in 1700 B. C. it was much more, 
a goodly land ; the land wherein Jacob lived for sev- 
enteen years and then died ; the land where he blessed 
and prophesied concerning his children, who became 
the heads of the tribes of Israel; the land from 
whence he was carried up by Joseph and a great com- 
pany of mourners to be buried at Hebron in the cave 
of Machpelah. 

On leaving Goshen at Zakazik, which is a thriving 
city of some forty thousand people, we could see to 
the south the ruins of that ancient city of Bubastis, 
so fully described by Herodotus in the Fifth Century 



Zhc XanD of (Boeben 191 



B. C. We know now that this city w^as in existence 
C, when the builder of the Great Pyramid 
was reigning, and that it became the place where 
perhaps millions of embalmed cats of Egypt were 
reverently interred. Peace to those cats ! Unless 
they are immortal, how much labor was spent in vain. 

Now the fertile soil seems to cease. There are 
here and there mounds of old cities, and we are again 
on the edge of the desert. The one lone obelisk of 
Heliopolis looms up to the right, the Pyramids of 
Gizeh appear on the western rim of the horizon, and, 
in six miles more, we are in Cairo, w^hich in the days 
when Mark was a fellow-laborer with Peter and 
Paul was called "Babylon." "The church that is at 
Babylon .... saluteth you; and so doth Mar- 
cus, my son," wrote Peter (in I Pet. 5:13), and this 
was not the Babylon of the Euphrates, but of the 
Nile. 

A. V. D. H. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



THE STREETS OF CAIRO. 



HE Midway was one of the most popular feat- 



A ures of the World's Fair at Chicago. And the 
streets of Cairo were among the most popular feat- 
ures of the Midway. Some patrons of this part of 
the exhibition formed the erroneous impression that 
most of the women in Cairo concealed their faces be- 
hind black veils and brass nose pieces ; that most of 
the men wore Oriental skirts and squatted Turk 
fashion; that transportation facilities were confined 
to the camel and donkey, and that the continuous and 
only form of public amusement was of a rather start- 
ling and shocking character. As one enters the city 
of Cairo to-day, however, he will be agreeably sur- 
prised at its many evidences of cosmopolitanism. 

If he drives through the extensive and ornate gar- 
dens of the Ghezireh Palace Hotel, he may imagine 
himself suddenly transported to the Hotel del Monte, 
at Monterey, California. If he strolls through the 
drawing room of the Savoy or Shepheard's, he may 
conclude he is in Saratoga. If he walks through the 
broad avenues of the newly built portion of Cairo, he 




192 



tLbc Streets of Cairo 193 



may be reminded of the boulevards of Paris. If he 
peers into the shop windows Hning the Sharia-Gamel, 
or the Muski, he may recognize the conventional 
features of the retail district of a continental city. 
If he spends an evening at the Khedivial Opera 
House, he may imagine himself in Philadelphia or 
London. If he trades at the bazaars of the Arabs or 
Algerians, he may suspect himself still in Damascus. 
If he rides donkey-back through the narrow streets of 
old Cairo, he may feel that an impassable gulf sepa- 
rates him from European civilization. If he visits 
the alabaster Mosque of Mohammed Ali, or the uni- 
versity Mosque el-Azhar, with its five thousand ear- 
nest students of the Koran, he can easily believe him- 
self to be in the very heart of Mohammedanism. If 
he gazes upon the Nile, under the soft light of the 
full moon, he may readily drift into a dreamy medi- 
tation upon the historic stream without which Egypt 
would be a barren desert, and with which has been 
linked so much that is weird and mysterious in Egyp- 
tian story. If he visits the Gizeh Museum and recog- 
nizes at its portals the familiar but mummified face 
of the most celebrated of the Pharaohs, and gains an 
insight into ancient customs from the pictorial carv- 
ings upon the unearthed monuments, he may feel 
that this is the most promising spot for unraveling 
the secrets of ancient history. And if he pays his 
respects to the Pyramids and the Sphinx, he may ex- 
perience a profound feeling of reverence in standing 
face to face with the most ancient and celebrated 
monuments of human construction. 

With this heterogeneous combination, all within 
the confines of a single city, it is easy to see why 
Cairo should be regarded as one of the most interest- 



ig4 jf torn! America to]tbe ©dent 



ing cities of the world ; although if the visitor chooses 
to limit himself to but one of the many worlds in 
Cairo his impressions will be proportionately differ- 
ent from those which are made upon the traveler who 
enjoys seeing the city in its entirety. 

One of the very picturesque sights in the -fashion- 
able district of Cairo is the fine equipages drawn by 
splendid specimens of Arabian horses and preceded 
by one or two forerunners or outrunners. These 
functionaries, whom I have never seen in any other 
city, are generally fine-looking, slenderly built Arabs 
with black hair and moustache; with their feet and 
the lower part of their limbs bare ; attired in a red fez 
and white turban, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled 
up to the shoulder 3nd disclosing bright red under- 
sleeves, white bloomers, a short, circular jacket, rich- 
ly embroidered with gilt, and a large, bright-colored 
sash, and each carrying a long pole. Thus equipped, 
they keep running a certain distance ahead of their 
carriage to ''clear the way" for their master, and they 
apparently never tire. The bright colors and pic- 
turesqueness of the costume, combined with the 
graceful activity of the men, form a picture which 
one delights to see. 

But, in order to observe that which differs most 
from modern life and customs, the traveler must leave 
the fashionable and modern district of Shepheard's 
and stroll through the narrow lanes and streets of 
old Cairo, or in the Arab district, and if he does this 
in the heat' of the day he will realize in a cool and 
refreshing manner the advantage in a semi-tropical 
city of walking through very narrow streets in which 
the overhanging balconies almost meet. In going 
through old Cairo he is strongly reminded of the 



tbc Streets of Cairo 195 



buildings in the streets of Cairo as exhibited at the 
World's Fair. To stroll or to ride on a donkey (the 
most popular form of conveyance) through these so- 
called streets, some of which are not more than six 
feet wide, is curiously interesting. 

In the morning, noon or night are seen, at the Ara- 
bian cafes, the native Arabs sipping their Turkish 
coffee or smoking their cheap cigarettes, or their pic- 
turesque nargilehs. From the great number of these 
patrons one might suppose the Arabs were lazy and 
unwilling to work, but in order to dissipate this idea 
it is only necessary to watch the railroad porters, the 
hack drivers, the donkey boys, or boatmen struggle, 
push, fight and swear to get possession of a passen- 
ger and his luggage. But the active energy of the 
Arab rarely causes him to spend his spare time in 
self-improvement, particularly in the line of personal 
or household cleanliness ; smoking, coffee drinking, 
chatting and the observance of his Moslem devo- 
tions, are the conventional ways in which his unem- 
ployed time is generally spent. 

The native costumes are varied, but the most popu- 
lar style among the men is a long skirt, made appar- 
ently of blue Kentucky jean, and a red fez, either 
plain or dressed with a white or green turban. The 
ordinary costume of women of the poorest class (who 
find time to blacken their eyelashes and eyelids, and 
have their faces and chests tattooed) consists of a 
long blue or black skirt, with the upper half fre- 
quently thrown over the head, and with a long black 
or white veil concealing their face. Inasmuch as 
these styles never change, and as a woman's garment 
can be purchased for fifty cents, it is distressing to 
think of the havoc which would be occasioned among 



196 ifrom Bmenca to tbe ©rtent 



our fashionable dressmakers and milliners if Worth 
(or his legatee) should suddenly authorize the adop- 
tion of the Arabic costume among his devotees in 
Philadelphia and other large cities. While, however, 
the costume of the Arabic women undergoes little, if 
any, variation, the dress of the men is -frequently 
modified by the partial adoption of European fash- 
ions, the grotesqueness of which is quite striking 
when an Arab is seen wearing his conventional long 
skirt and fez, but at the same time displaying Euro- 
pean gaiters and a short spring overcoat. 

In the native bazaars one sees the greatest diversity 
and animation in Oriental life. Like the celebrated 
bazaars of Damascus, those of Cairo are generally 
separated into different classes, and each shop con- 
sists of a single room, which is usually smaller than 
our average American show window. In this room, 
or in front of it, the proprietor squats or stands and 
conducts all the minutiae of his business. The streets 
or lanes which are lined with these shops are always 
full of life and animation, being frequented by both 
natives and foreigners, and they resound with the 
braying of donkeys, the warning shouts of their 
drivers, and the jingling cymbals and calls of the 
water and lemonade vender, who keeps his beverage 
stored in a goatskin. But when the jewelry or sil- 
versmith bazaar is pointed out, and one sees a narrow 
lane not over four feet wide, and lined on both sides 
with the smiths, who in their miniature boxes both 
make and sell their wares, he recognizes an amusing 
contrast between the old and the new by recalling to 
mind the Tiffanys, the Caldwells and other typical 
smiths of America. 

In the perfumery bazaar the proprietor, surrounded 



Cbe Street0 of Cairo 197 



on three sides with his large bottles of varied per- 
fumes, enterprisingly offers to part with a drop (but 
the smallest drop I have ever seen), as a free sam- 
ple. Attar of roses appears to be the most popular 
odor. In the fez bazaar each shop is provided with 
brass forms which, when heated, are used to press 
and repress the fez into the desired shape. In the 
slipper bazaar, the silk bazaar, the dry goods bazaar, 
the Algerian bazaar and in all the other bazaars, dis- 
tinctive Oriental features are found which cannot fail 
to interest and entertain. 

Although less animated, it is also interesting to 
stroll through the narrow lanes in the residential dis- 
trict of the Arab population. The visitor may be 
obliged to frequently retrace his steps when he finds 
no outlet to a long and tortuous lane, but he avoids 
this perplexity after he learns that ''Sharia" means 
a street with an outlet, and ''Artfet" a lane which 
may terminate in a private courtyard. Such a stroll, 
while interesting in disclosing how much Oriental 
contentment may be crowded into a single chimney- 
less room with a stone floor, at the same time awak- 
ens a feeling of profound gratitude at the superior 
household and sanitary conveniences of those in 
similar positions in our own country. 

An equally Oriental impression may be formed by 
listening to the sonorous cry of the muezzin from the 
towering minarets as he calls the faithful Moslem to 
his prayers ; or by visiting the many ancient and mod- 
ern mosques with their conventional fountains in the 
courtyard in which the Mohammedan is required to 
wash his face, hands and feet before starting on his 
ninety-nine prayers: and particularly by visiting the 
mosque which is used as a university, in which the 



19^ jfrom Smerica to tbe ©dent 



five thousand students formerly spent their entire 
time in committing to memory the words of the 
Koran, and who graduated only after this mnemonic 
feat was accomplished. It is a ludicrous sight now 
to see those thousands of pupils squatting, Turk fash- 
ion, on the matted floor of the mosque; some by 
themselves, others being taught by an instructor; 
some writing the words with ink on slates made of 
tin, and all energetically swaying their bodies back- 
ward and forward, and nodding, with a quick, jerky 
motion, their heads in a number of directions. The 
reason assigned for this grotesque act of gymnastics 
is that the faculty of memory is thereby kept in a su- 
perior state of activity, and that which is learned be- 
comes more solidly packed in the mind — probably on 
the same principle that governs an automatic packing 
machine. One energetic pupil squatted so closely to 
the stone wall and shot his head and body forward so 
vehemently as to suggest the theory that he proposed 
to dispute the infallibility of the old adage regarding 
a man ''butting his head against a stone wall." Some 
of the other pupils were stretched out full length on 
the floor taking a nap. As a university scene, it pos- 
sesses sufficiently grotesque features to more than in- 
terest the humorist. 

When one wishes to suddenly step backward a few 
thousand years and breathe the atmosphere of an- 
cient Egypt, commune with its noted personages, and 
become, familiar with its old-time customs, all he need 
to do is to enter the Gizeh Museum. 

When he looks upon the mummified face of Rame- 
ses II., who reigned over half a century, and whose 
father is believed to have been the Pharaoh who or- 
dered the murder of all newly born male children 



Zbc Streets of Cairo 199 



among the Jews, he may feel that he recognizes an 
old acquaintance, for his striking physiognomy has 
been produced and reproduced so frequently in mag- 
azines as to make it very familiar. His features have 
been so perfectly preserved during the several thou- 
sand years in which he was entombed that they do 
not appear repulsive. The face and head are worth 
studying. The unusually prominent and highly 
arched nose indicates great love and power of com- 
mand, while the facial features and the head sug- 
gest the characteristics of the cool, calculating, pas- 
sionless diplomat. From a study of the features and 
those of his father, it is easy to believe that such acts 
as the murder of Jewish infants would not be ordered 
to gratify any special love for cruelty, but simply as a 
supposed inevitable incident for guarding and per- 
petuating the power of their dynasty — just as our 
own newly elected public officials cut off the heads 
of certain subordinates, not from any feeling of mal- 
ice, but, on the contrary, frequently with a sentiment 
of genuine compassion; but the act of execution is 
nevertheless carried out as one of the inexorable laws 
in practical politics for maintaining partisan or fac- 
tional control. 

There is a published story that when the mummi- 
fied remains of this proud old Egyptian king were 
transferred to Bulak the Custom House authorities 
were puzzled to know how to classify the importation, 
as "mummies" could not be found in their official 
list. The problem was, however, finally solved by 
entering the mummy as "fertilizer," for the reason 
that many mummies had been used by the Arabs for 
that purpose and also because the duty upon fertili- 
z^v^ Iqw? Had this incident occurre4 before 



200 



3From Bmenca to tbc ©dent 



Shakespeare's time it might have furnished the illus- 
trious bard an illustration of the fall of the mighty, 
even more striking than v^as found in Caesar, who, 

" Dead and turned to clay, - 
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away." 

I mentioned this story to Professor Sayce, the emi- 
nent Egyptologist, who smilingly said it was an en- 
tertaining story, but he would not like to guarantee 
its accuracy. He told me, however, of an actual 
occurrence which may not have been heretofore pub- 
lished. It was to the effect that when the mummies 
of the kings were being taken away from Luxor some 
V of the natives pretended to be affected with great 
I grief at the carrying away of their ancient kings, 
and ran along the shore after the boat, wailing, 
shrieking and throwing sand into their hair, when 
suddenly a strange and weird spectacle presented it- 
self: a number of the mummies of the kings, which 
were spread out on the deck of the boat, and which 
had been lying motionless and serene for thousands 
of years, gradually raised their heads as though in 
recognition of the tribute of respect which the natives 
were paying, and as though they desired to take a 
last look at their ancient resting place. If I said 
nothing more about this story the sanity of both the 
professor and myself might seriously be brought into 
question, and Rider Haggard might also use the inci- 
dent in a coming story of ''He," to illustrate the 
weird and perpetual power of the early Egyptian sor- 
cerers. As a matter, however, of cold, scientific fact, 
the apparently miraculous movements came from the 
expansion and contraction of the sKin, caused by the 
intense rays of a Luxor sun beating down upon the 
exposed bodies. 



Zbc Streets of Cairo 201 



The lover of mummies can, in this museum, have 
his taste abundantly gratified, for he will find many 
celebrated ancient rulers and numerous rows of 
shelves of the priests of Ammon (the sight of which 
gives a weird significance to the old phrase of being 
"laid on the shelf"), and also a lot of lesser dignita- 
ries, many of whom are, no doubt, more celebrated 
as a speechless mummy than when they engaged in 
the activities of life as a human individual. 

The hieroglyphics and pictorial carvings on the 
stone slabs brought from Luxor, Memphis and other 
ancient cities give a practical insight into ancient me- 
chanical arts, and the simple and primitive tools 
which are there represented favor the theory that the 
construction of the pyramids and other colossal 
tombs and temples of antiquity was accomplished not 
by the aid of superior or phenomenal forces, the 
knowledge of which lies buried, but by the use of 
simple mechanical contrivances operated by the con- 
centrated energy of a fabulous number of workmen. 

But what would Cairo, and, in fact, what would the 
whole of Egypt be without the Nile? When one 
pauses to consider the marvelous influence of this 
historic stream, which, by its annual overflow of allu- 
vial deposits, converts a dead, barren desert into one 
of the richest and most fertile regions in the world, 
it is easy to understand why the Nile, with its four 
thousand miles of length, should always have com- 
manded such deference and even reverence from 
Egyptians. When the river reaches its highest point, 
as indicated by the nilometer on the Island of Roda, 
it is possible to determine with considerable accuracy 
the abundance of the crops for that year, as the height 
of the river regulates the number of irrigating canals 



202 



jfrom amerfca to tbe ©rient 



which can be supplied with water, and this, in turn, 
determines how many acres of soil can be cultivated. 
To the absolute dependence of the Egyptians, from 
the very earliest period, upon this one great source of 
life is attributed their early intellectual development. 
It is contended that ''the necessity of controlling the 
course of the Nile and utilizing its water forced them 
to study the art of river engineering; and as they 
beheld in the starry heavens the calendar which reg- 
ulated the approach and departure of the inundations, 
they naturally became students of astronomy. As 
the annual overflow of the water obliterated all land- 
marks, it became necessary annually to remeasure the 
land, and to keep a register of the area belonging to 
each owner. The soundness of property, therefore, 
became recognized, and the disputes which natur- 
ally arose each year showed the necessity of adopting 
settled laws and enforcing judicial decisions. The 
Nile thus led to the foundation of social, legal and 
political order.'' 

The water of the Nile is more murky than either 
the Schuylkill or the Delaware, but when it appears 
as drinking water upon the table it is clear as crystal, 
and the wonderful transformation from offensive 
muddiness into crystalline purity is due to the simple 
process of filtration. 

F. A. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



AT ANCIENT ON. 



OWARD the cool of the evening we took lan- 



A daus, drawn by two horses, to visit the site of 
that most ancient of universities, wherein was taught 
by the priests of On "all the learning of the Egyp- 
tians." It was a place hoary with age when Joseph 
was given in marriage to Asenath, the high priest's 
daughter. This famous institution of sciences was in 
splendid activity when, four hundred years later, the 
university degree was conferred, as doubtless it was, 
on the young man, Moses, who was to be the greatest 
of the world's lawgivers. Eight centuries later we 
find the Greek writer, Herodotus, calling it ^'Heliopo- 
lis," and composing within its precincts a portion of 
his learned history. And even Plato, later still, 
thought it not beneath the dignity of a youth born un- 
der the shadows of the Parthenon to enter its classic 
shades and pursue, for a period of thirteen years, 
the studies of an occult philosophy; nor did Solon, 




203 



204 JFrom america to tbe ©dent 



Thales, Pythagoras or Eudorus. The great priest- 
historian, Manetho, officiated at the Temple 320 B. C, 
when it was still in the heyday of popularity. If it be 
pleasant to visit Oxford and Cambridge, with their 
annals of a thousand years, how much more in- 
tense the interest in treading on ground hallowed by 
the learning of at least forty centuries, and where at 
one time there are said to have been thirteen thousand 
students preparing for the priesthood. 

The roadway took us straight through the northerly 
part of the city of Cairo, past Mohammedan shops, 
through residence streets, along the barracks of Eng- 
lish soldiers and around one of the Khedivial palaces, 
known as the Palais Taufik. We saw the high hedge- 
walls of the palace enclosure, and the immense square 
stone structure, rather ornamental, within which we 
knew the Khedive then was, for the royal flag was 
flying from the standard on the roof. It is in the 
midst of a rich piece of ground, where oranges and 
lemons are abundant and where ripening crops of 
grain are plentiful. We crossed the plain where, in 
1 5 17, was fought the battle by which the Turks became 
masters of Egypt, and where, in 1800, ten thousand 
French troops of Napoleon's army defeated sixty 
thousand Orientals. The road was smooth as a floor, 
and tamarisks, mimosa, and, chiefly, sycamores 
(those which produce a variety of figs ; lined the way. 
The trees were not yet dense, as their leaves were 
young and small, but in a month more we should 
probably have found the shade quite grateful. 

We' soon came to an enclosure a little off from the 
roadway, say a hundred yards to the east, where the 
immense sycamore tree known as the ''Virgin's Tree" 
Stands, It is old and gnarled and must have stood 



at Bncient ®n 



205 



there for several centuries, but by no manner of 
''miracle" is it likely to have had existence when 
Mary and her babe ''rested" in the land after cross- 
ing the desert. Perhaps its trunk next to the ground 
is eight feet through, but this might easily be grown 
in the course of two hundred and fifty years. We 
saw many such trees, though younger, in Palestine, 
and they brought to mind the story of Zaccheus, the 
publican, and also that the prophet Amos was ''a 
gatherer of sycamore figs." Just by the tree was a 
natural spring of water, and the paraphernalia of 
water-wheel to draw up the water, and circular power 
for the buffalo to furnish the motive force, was over 
it. We pushed around the power to make the wheel 
go, as no buffalo or buffalo driver was at hand, and 
the skin buckets brought up sweet and wholesome 
water, of which we drank. 

In a quarter of an hour more the tall and lone 
obelisk now at Heliopolis loomed into view. It is 
the only stone to mark the site where once was uni- 
versity and temple and also a city. It is the most 
venerable obelisk in the world, the parent of all 
which should come after. If we could not visit Luxor 
to see those pylons of Thothmes III., what more sat- 
isfactory sig'ht might we gaze upon in Egypt than 
this one majestic record of the early days of the 
Middle Empire, erected 4332 years ago ! 

As we came up to it we found it stood in what 
is at present a pit, with its base at least ten feet be- 
low the present level of the soil. The excavation to 
the base has only been made within the past three 
years; so that now by going down steps just con- 
structed we can stand on the original foundation. 
But all about it were fields of lentils, wheat and 



2o6 jfrom america to tbe ©rfent 



barley. They were waving in the warm spring wind, 
and, if they had any voice, it was the low, soft thren- 
ody which seemed to call the reapers to their ap- 
proaching task. Everywhere, as far as the eye could 
see, were level ground and rich harvests. There are 
three good harvests to be gathered every year in 
Egypt, and this was the earliest, but not the best, 
which is the crop of autumn. Could it be that there 
ever stood a city or a seat of learning here? Wc 
could not guess it if we had not this tell-tale obelisk 
of Usertesen L, who began to reign 2433 B. C. and 
who erected two great obelisks in front of the Tem- 
ple of the Sun full seven hundred years before Joseph 
was given the daughter of Potipherah, the Temple 
priest, by Pharaoh, for a wife. That king erected 
them to commemorate the first festival of Set, an- 
other form of the Phoenician god Baal. Its com- 
panion obelisk is probably one of those in Rome. All 
obelisks were erected in pairs in front of temples ; 
and Usertesen 1. set the example until the Egyptian 
world had at least fifty-five of them scattered between 
Heliopolis on the north and Karnak on the south. 
This obelisk is sixty-six and one-half feet high. Down 
the centre of each face is a single line, and it con- 
sists of the most clear-cut hieroglyphics to be seen 
upon any obelisk or granite of ancient days. It re- 
cords that Usertesen I., King of Upper and Lower 
Egypt, lord of the diadems and son of the Sun, whom 
the spirits of On love, founded it on the first festival 
of Set. The bees had filled up the lines on three 
of the sides with cells so that they were illegible for 
years, but recently these have been removed and the 
stone put in excellent order. 
This obelisk is interesting, not only from its age 



at ancient On 



20j 



and the certainty that it was a famiHar sight to 
Joseph and to Moses, but equally so because it marks 
the locality whence came at least three other 
and later obelisks famous in the American and Euro- 
pean world, the one in New York City, the dne on 
the Thames Embankment, and the third in the square 
of St. John Lateran, in Rome. Thothmes III., who 
was the greatest of the Egyptian conquerors, erected 
these succeeding obelisks before the same temple at 
On, and Augustus Caesar had them removed to Alex- 
andria to adorn that modern city of his era. Why 
just one was finally left I do not know, but probably 
to keep silent guard of the spot whose antiquity was 
then venerable, and wnich must soon after Caesar's 
day have become little more than a heap of ruins. 

Obelisks point to the sun and no doubt were con- 
sidered as helpers to the worship of the God of Day, 
when Usertesen II. erected the first pair at On. In 
no other country but Egypt has an original obelisk 
been found. The Egyptians of the Twelfth Dynasty 
like those preceding it, worshipped the One God. The 
unity of the Supreme Being was expressed by hiero- 
glyphs and in priestly teachings. The Sun was re- 
garded as the chief symbol of God, hence a Temple to 
the Sun was the least pagan, perhaps, of all heathen 
temples, whether in Egypt or at Baalbek. 

But it is not supposed that the Heliopolis obelisk 
was the earliest in Egypt, though none of earlier date 
now exists. On one of the earliest tombs, a prince 
of the Fourth Dynasty is spoken of as 'Triest of the 
great Obelisk of Khufu" — Khufu being the builder of 
the Great Pyramid. Possibly the pyramid was re- 
ferred to as "the great Obelisk," but is that probable? 
In any event this one preserved antique specimen of 



2o8 



aFrom amedca to tbe ©dent 



almost prehistoric days is sufficiently unique to stir 
the imagination of any modern traveller. 

On was settled so early that we cannot fix its date. 
The worship of the sacred bull Apis was established 
under the Second Dynasty, 4100 B. C, and, at the 
same time, the same kind of worship of the bull 
Mncvis was begun at An (On), as we learn from the 
Turin papyrus. It would seem as if Heliopolis could 
equally claim with Memphis the greatest antiquity of 
any city whose exact site is now known. 

This spot, then, has a peculiar charm. I should like 
to have lingered there till the sun went down. A 
dozen miles away were the Pyramids, serene and al- 
most holy in their skyward symbolism. Between 
them and us rolled, unseen, the Nile, whose humanly 
distributed waters made the natural desert on which 
we stood to bloom and blossom like the rose. Our 
eyes were beholding in the distance what the maiden 
Asenath beheld on the morning when she became a 
bride. But oh! how different the immediate surround- 
ings ! Priests and princes, priestesses and princesses, 
temple and city, wealth and culture, masters and 
slaves — all gone like the orange blossoms of the early 
Fall. Everything perished but this one sentinel, whose 
finger yet points to the same Sun that the people of 
On had worshipped. There was everywhere the still- 
ness of death, and yet Nature was jubilant with life. 
The poetical and the mysterious had vanished away 
ages agoj the practical and the really spiritual re- 
mained. It seemed incredible to realize whose feet 
had imprinted the black soil buried beneath these 
grain fields. But, as we mused over it, it was time 
to go. 

And we went to see, near by, what was so different 



at Bncfent On 



209 



and so unique — an ostrich farm. Over a hundred and 
twenty ostriches kept in mud pens, some mere babies 
scarcely a foot high ; some tall and terrible like mon- 
sters of the desert, as we found one to be when he 
suspected we were after the eggs on which he was 
sitting, and when he made the rush forward which 
frightened the ladies nearly out of their wits. It was 
a curious spectacle. Some had plenty of black or 
white feathers and some none, for they had been 
plucked. Some were looking after their brood. The 
majority were simply standing erect, startled, perhaps, 
by so many persons peeping in at them at one time 
through the open doorway. We saw at least one bird 
twenty-five years of age, but perhaps the majority 
were not over five or six years old. The ostrich farm 
had been in operation here for over twenty years, and 
was in the keeping of a Frenchman who had made 
a pecuniary success of it. He had incubators to do 
some of the hatching, the process requiring forty-five 
days, and we learned that this process was successful. 

A. V. D. H. 




CHAPTER XXVII. 



THE SPHINX AND PYRAMIDS. 



O VIEW the Pyramids for the first time under 



A the fuH glare and heat of the Egyptian sun can 
hardly be other than disappointing to those 
who have cherished a sentimental and po- 
etic interest in these ancient monuments. 
The sight is, of course, impressive, be- 
cause of their colossal proportions, but as one looks 
at that massive pile of rough stone, he is strongly 
tempted to forget the inglorious theories of their 
astronomical and mathematical significance, and ex- 
claim : "What consummate idiocy!" When he recalls 
further that the huge pile of masonry in the Great 
Pyramid possesses no feature of artistic beauty other 
than its perfect conformity to the angular lines of a 
pyramid; that it monopolizes the space of thirteen 
acres ; that it contains over two million separate 
blocks of 'Stone ; that it weighs over six million tons ; 
and that it required for its construction, according to 
Herodotus, the services for twenty years of one hun- 
dred thousand men during three months of each 
year, a feeling of intense irritation and exasperation 
may be engendered against Cheops, the builder, who, 




2IO 



the Spbini anb l&i^ramtba 21 i 



while possessing such absolute power over the toilers 
in his dominions, expended this enormous amount of 
energy merely in erecting, in conformity with mathe- 
matical principles, a gigantic stone quarry, when the 
same expenditure of time and labor might have 
created a temple of colossal proportions and of mar- 
velous architectural beauty. 

But if the traveler is willing to undergo the fatigue 
of being hauled and pushed up to the summit, he is 
rewarded by a view which is not only extensive, but 
intensely interesting. He may also experience a grim 
satisfaction in defying the original purpose of Cheops 
by utilizing as an observatory what he designed only 
as his pretentious tomb. On the one side stretches 
out, as far as the eye can see, the barren desert, grim- 
ly siiggestive of death and desolation, and only re- 
lieved by the smaller pyramids of Sakkara, Dashur 
and Abusir as silent reminders of the dead past of 
Egyptian civilization. And as a refreshing contrast 
to this picture of death may be seen in the east the 
glittering course of the Nile, on the borders of which 
stretches a varying breadth of rich, green, vegetation, 
picturesquely relieved by the stately date palm tree; 
while to the northeast rise the graceful minarets 
of the cosmopolitan city of modern Cairo. 

If now the traveller, after descending from the 
summit, desires more fatigue, he may crawl through 
the narrow and slippery passageway into the tomb 
chamber in which Cheops expected his mummified 
body and his buried jewels to be perpetually secure. 
That his plans were utterly thwarted awakens a feel- 
ing of keen regret on the part of those who would 
like to expose him to public view, like other fossils 
and curiosities of his age, in the Gizeh Museum. 



^12 jfrom Smedca to tbe ©rient 



But there are other times and places when a view of 
the Pyramids gives rise to other thoughts and emo- 
tions. Some places, like the lives of some men and 
women, are best seen at a distance. Their large pro- 
portions are not designed for close or microscopic in- 
spection ; no more than is the Jungf rau, whose face, 
both in the bright sunlight and in the soft glow of 
the full moon, shines with rare and radiant beauty to 
her distant votaries in Interlaken, but less attractive 
features are disclosed to the closer and more critical 
observer at Wengernalp. 

And so it is with the Pyramids. Long before 
reaching Cairo they loom up out of the horizon, hazy, 
misty, and frequently softened with the varying tints 
of the setting sun, like a deified guardian of the Past, 
welcoming you to the land so rich with its buried 
tales of the most ancient science, civilization and hu- 
manity. At a distance they are no longer a mere pile 
of stone, but, like every perfect picture or statue, they 
become imbued with life — not with the life of to-day, 
but with the life of the hazy past, which is interwoven 
with the mysteries of the Nile, the charms of Cleo- 
patra, the magnificence of the Court of the Pharaohs, 
the thrilling adventures of Moses and Joseph, and 
with the mysteries and subtleties of the most ancient 
magic and priestcraft. 

And this living spirit always pervades the Pyra- 
mids when seen at the proper distance. Looking at 
them from the citadel in Cairo, or while sailing on 
the river Nile, or from the site of ancient Memphis, 
or from the train in leaving Cairo, as their misty 
forms gradually fade in the distance, no such irrev- 
erent idea as "stone quarry" is suggested, for as 
their colossal and angular forms loom up out of the 



ttbe Spbtni an5 Ibi^ramfOe 213 



horizon or gradually fade from view, they assume a 
form of grace and beauty and dignity which may be 
profoundly felt, but not adequately described. 

The Pyramids also tell another story. They point 
significantly to the temples and baths and palaces of 
Imperial Rome, resplendent with architectural beauty 
and the choicest statues of Grecian sculptors, but 
which, mutilated and dishonored, were soon filled 
with debris and served but as sub-foundations for fu- 
ture structures. They point with equal significance 
to the former Temple of Baalbek, colossal in its pro- 
portions and yet finished with all the grace of the 
best Corinthian architecture, but whose ruins to-day 
give but a hint of their former magnificence. They 
also point to the site of ancient Heliopolis, whose 
magnificent structures filled the world with wonder, 
but of which only a single obelisk remains to mark 
the spot, while one companion obelisk has migrated 
to London and another to New York City. And yet 
amid this destruction of ancient forms of archi- 
tectural beauty the Pyramids, antedating them all, 
have for five thousand years proudly maintained their 
original form, although stripped of their polislied 
stone veneerings and robbed of their mummified 
contents. 

Perhaps, after all, our hasty judgment of Cheops as 
a builder was fallacious. Instead of condemning him 
for consummate idiocy, perhaps we should accredit 
him with marvellously keen foresight in adopting a 
simple style of architecture which has so successfully 
withstood the ravages of time and the cupidity of 
men. We confess a keen desire to closely inspect his 
mummified physiognomy side by side in the Gizeh 
Museum with that of Rameses II., the Pharaoh who 



214 



jfrom Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



was responsible for the early adventure of Moses in 
the bulrushes. We might silently crave his pardon 
for our first hasty judgment upon his Pyramid and 
express gratitude that, notwithstanding his apparent 
disregard for human life and energy in carrying out 
his selfish purpose to perpetuate his glory, he never- 
theless erected a monument which for thousands of 
years may continue to be of intense interest to poster- 
ity, even though the mummified remains of its ambi- 
tious builder may have been utilized as a fertilizer 
by the Bedouins of the desert. 

Apropos of the above, the following poem generally 
impresses one weirdly as he hears it recited within 
the very shadow of the Great Pyramid in which the 
embalmed King was supposed to be entombed. Rev. 
Dr. R. gave it to us from memory, and stated that 
the author, Helen T. Hutcheson, was a gifted young 
lady who died soon after her marriage : 

"I think I lie by the lingering Nile; 
I think I am one that have lain long while, 
With my lips sealed up in a solemn smile, 
In the lazy land of the loitering Nile. 

*'I think I lie in the Pyramid, 
And the darkness weighs on the closed eyelid, 
And the air is heavy where I am hid 
With the stone on stone of the Pyramid. 

"I think there are graven godhoods grim, 
That look from the walls of my chamber dim, 
And the hampered hand and the muffled limb 
Lie fixed in the spell of their gazes grim, 

"I think I lie in a languor vast; 
Numb, dumb soul in a body fast. 
Waiting long as the world shall last; 
Lying cast in a languor vast. 



Zbc Spbfni an& ©i^rami&s 215 



"Lying muffled in, fold on fold, 
With the gum, and the spice, and the gold enrolled; 
And the grain of a year that is old, old, old, 
Wound around in the fine-spun fold. 

''The sunshine of Egypt is on my tomb; 
I feel it warming the still, thick gloom; 
Warming and waking an old perfume 
Through the carven honors upon my tomb. 

* 'The old sunshine of Egypt is on the stone. 
And the sands lie red that the wind hath sown; 
And the lean, lithe lizard at play, alone. 
Slides like a shadow across the stone. 

"And I lie with the Pyramid over my head; 
I am lying dead; lying long, long dead; 
With my days all done and my words all said; 
And the deeds of my days written over my head. 

. . . Dead. Dead. Dead." 

But a wonderfully interesting companion to the 
Pyramids is the Sphinx. Unlike them, its acquain- 
tance should not be made from a distance, but near by 
as its greatest height is but sixty-six feet from the 
base. Its face is that of a man (not of a woman, as is 
sometimes supposed), and possibly represents the 
features of King Amenemhet III. (Twelfth Dynasty), 
by whom it may have been constructed. Its body is 
in the form of a recumbent lion, with its front paws 
stretched outward on the ground, and it is hewn out 
of the natural bedrock. 

This fascinating face of stone may be looked at 
in the bright sunlight, at sunrise, at sunset, by moon- 
light, or even in the night, by an artificial magnesium 
light, but the face never wearies, never disappoints. 
In its calm and sublime dignity it may seem to repre- 
sent Inexorable, Passionless, Eternal Fate ; supreme- 
iy indifferent to the rise and fall of successive dynas- 



2i6 jfrom america to tbe ©rtent 



ties; treating lightly the civilization of the different 
epochs ; unawed by the revelations of science and of 
magic; unmoved by the invasion of foreign armies 
and the uprooting of ancient customs and idols ; 
equally indifferent to the indignity of having its nose 
used as a target by gunners and its body- partly bur- 
ied beneath the shifting sands of the desert. Pas- 
sionless the face may be said to appear, but this fea- 
ture is doubtless due to the sculptor's skill and not to 
its absence. Nowhere have I seen a face in stone 
which has so haunted me since — a face which seemed 
to hold the power of revealing the most ancient se- 
crets of the Past, but which, with its far-away look, 
was serenely gazing into the most distant Future for 
the ultimate consummation of things, and totally in- 
different to the transient events of a day, a century, 
or a millenium. 

With its weird power of responding to the vary- 
ing fancies and emotions of the observer, who can 
tell what it said to Napoleon at the battle of the 
Pyramids ; to Saladin when he gained supremacy in 
Egypt ; to Constantino when considering the intro- 
duction of Christianity ; to Marc Antony while yield- 
ing to the enchantment of Cleopatra; to Alexander 
the Great when planning for a brilliant and pro- 
gressive Egyptian Empire; to Moses while receiving 
his education at the Court of Pharaoh ; to Joseph 
when celebrating his wedding with the daughter of 
Potipherah; and to the millions of other human be- 
ings, both great and small, who, during five thousand 
years, have gazed upon that marvellous face. To 
each one it no doubt told a different tale — just as it 
(iocs to-day. 

The Pyramids, tbe Sphinx, the Nile— three rare 



Photo, by Rev. Dr. Richards. 
EGYPT— AN AMERICAN GIRL ON TOP. 
She is standing- on the aummit of the Great Pyramid; the Second Pyra- 
mid in the distance shows upper portion of marble encasement. 




Photo, by Mrs. Hutton. 
A DELIGHTFUL EXPERIENCE (Page 241). 
On the Banks of the Nile; making- the start for Memphis. 



Photo, by Miss Oiler. 
EGYPT-NATIVES NEAR THE PYRAMIDS. 



Zbc Spblnt and iP^ramtDs 217 



links in the chain which connects the most ancient 
civilization with that of to-day ; and when we begin 
to realize the advanced state of civilization in Egypt 
thousands of years before the discovery of America, 
and long before the establishment of the Roman Em- 
pire, we may well feel that a closer acquaintance with 
these legacies of the Past may serve as an agreeable 
diversion in the rush and hurly-burly of the Western 
civilization of to-<lay. 

F. A. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



A BEDOUIN FESTIVAL. 

AFTER eating in the open desert our evening 
lunch, spread out upon one of the colossal 
paws of the Sphinx, and while absorbed in 
studying by the soft light of the rising 
moon the weird features of that face 
of stone which for thousands of years has im- 
passively gazed upon the varying fortunes and civ- 
ilization of ancient and modern Egypt, we were 
startled by hearing in the still night some of those 
peculiar sounds which the Arabs call music, and 
which became so familiar to the patrons of the Mid- 
way during the World's Fair. Our Pyramid guide, 
who bore the distinguished name of Hassan, informed 
us that his brother was to be married the following 
norning, and he invited us to witness the consumma- 
tion of the preparatory wedding festivities, which 
had been in progress for the past five days. 

We gladly accepted the invitation and trudged 
through the heavy sand of the desert, with no evi- 
dence of life save the distant musical strains, when 
a sharp turn in the road suddenly revealed 
a sight which formed a strange contrast to 
218 



219 



the previous solitude and darkness. Before us 
appeared an oblong square formed by Arabs of all 
ages and sizes and conditions, clothed in their na- 
tive dress, squatting, Turk fashion, around 
the edge of the square. In the centre of this curious 
group was a raised platform carpeted with matting, 
surmounted with a bright red canopy that was orna- 
mented with Oriental figures, festooned with gayly 
colored flags, and brilliantly illuminated with lamps 
and candelabra suspended from the roof. To increase 
the brilliancy of the scene, torches made of burlap 
saturated with oil and wrapped around poles were 
also lighted at intervals. 

Among the Arabs all was life and commotion. The 
incessant chatter which one hears continually among 
Arab porters, Arab boatmen, Arab coachmen, Arab 
guides, Arab merchants — in fact all who talk the 
Arabic language — was heard here just as usual. An 
American listening to this vehement chatter for the 
first time would be justified in suspecting the Orien- 
tals of continually quarrelling, but would soon dis- 
cover that the peculiarly explosive sound of certain 
Arabic words may at times express affection even 
when mistaken for violent feeling. 

There were assembled about five hundred male 
friends and relatives of the groom, but no women — 
for the Arab rarely escorts his female friends to a 
place of amusement or entertainment. Among the 
audience I recognized the camel boy who had per- 
sisted in making my camel trot at a most hazardous 
gait and who pretended not to understand my sharp 
and emphatic orders to have him walk. I also recog- 
nized the son of one of the Sheiks, who, in eight min- 
utes, had nimbly run up to the summit and down to 



220 jfrom Bmerica to tbe ©rlent 



the bottom of the highest Pyramid, but who now ex- 
perienced difficuhy in balancing himself on top of the 
rickety five-foot ladder which two other guides were 
supporting. 

The man who assumed the management of the 
lighted torch may have imagined himself to be ''Lib- 
erty Enlightening the World," for, inflated with the 
importance of his position, he brandished the torch 
among the flags and the inflammable roof of the can- 
opy with a recklessness which would have paralyzed 
an American fire insurance inspector, while his equal- 
ly reckless jabs among the bare legs of the Arabs 
would, in America, have resulted in the passage of 
fierce resolutions of protest by the Society for the 
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. But neither the 
bunting nor the legs caught fire, and when we en- 
tered the assemblage every one seemed glad to accord 
us the right of way, to place seats for us at the best 
and most conspicuous point of view, and to treat us 
in every way as special and honored guests. 

I soon found myself confronted with the following 
problem concerning human nature : 

Every one who has traveled in Oriental countries 
is familiar with the term ''bakshish." The word 
originally meant "gift" and it may still be employed 
to some extent in that sense. But its universal mean- 
ing when hurled at travelers by the natives is "Give 
me money!'' And the word possesses the singular 
power of making every receiver of "bakshish" crave 
for more, and, in the majority of cases, to also de- 
mand more. You may pay for the privilege of as- 
cending the Pyramids (which money is divided among 
the several Sheiks who control the district) and 
you may pay for a camel ride, or a donkey ride, or 



aSebouin festival S2i 



for any other privilege or accommodation, but inva- 
riably these, as well as all other Arabs who may have 
honored you with a glance, or a word, or a pull, or 
a push, will demand "bakshish" in addition, regard- 
less of how liberal your first payment may have been 
— provided you are sized up as being sufficiently ten- 
der-hearted, unsophisticated or exasperated to yield 
to the importunity. 

But at this Arabian festivity no one, strange to 
say, asked for ''bakshish." The camel boy who dur- 
ing the day appeared to have "bakshish" uppermost 
in mind ; the son of a Sheik who had presented a de- 
mand for two shillings for standing on the Sphinx 
while our photographs were being taken; the guide 
who claimed to have given an additional pull or push 
up the Pyramids and a consequent fee — these and all 
the other "bakshish" receivers who frequent the Pyra- 
mids were there, and they gave us a most cordial 
welcome, seemed proud of the honor of sitting near 
us, willingly gave us all the information we desired, 
saw that newcomers did not obstruct our view, and 
yet not a single request for "bakshish" was heard ! 

From what I have learned of the Arab's real na- 
ture I am not yet able to determine whether the ge- 
nial sphere of friendly hospitality actually excluded 
the sordid idea of gain (a theory which most Pyra- 
mid visitors will treat with incredulity), or whether 
a still larger contribution might possibly have been 
expected as a spontaneous expression of appreciation, 
such as sometimes follows the enjoyment of that 
which is novel and entertaining. However, it is 
more pleasing to cherish the first view, and I shall 
adopt it in spite of its probable unreliability. 

A wedding ceremony for an Arab is no trifling af- 



222 



3f torn Hmerica to tbe ©rient 



fair, even though according to Moslem ethics he may 
marry four wives and also marry the fifth, provided 
he simply sends one of the first four back to her par- 
ents, if they are living. I do not know how elabor- 
ately the event is celebrated among the very poor, but 
in the case of Hassan's brother, who was reputed 
to own considerable fertile land and whose prospec- 
tive bride, or her family, was also reputed to be well 
off, the preparatory festivities had occupied five days. 
During the day the male friends enjoyed themselves 
mainly in equestrian sports. Upon their handsome 
Arab steeds a number of riders would fly like the 
wind, then suddenly stop, fire off their guns, wheel 
around and run as rapidly to their starting point. 
The fearlessness and perfect poise of a skilful Arab 
horseman is beautiful to witness, and an Arab enjoys 
the sport as much as do our western cowboys. Toward 
evening luncheon was provided for the guests, and two 
buft'alo cows slaughtered to furnish the necessary 
meat. And the bride also has her festivities, but 
only among her female friends. I was not informed 
of what they consist. I tried to find out for myself 
once, when, in strolling through the streets of Tiber- 
ias, my guide mentioned that some Oriental wedding 
festivities were being celebrated in one of the houses 
we were passing, and I was invited to call upon the 
bridegroom, who welcomed me most cordially and 
insisted that I join him in smoking one of his wed- 
ding cigarettes. After listening to the so-called mu- 
sic, and trying to say pleasant things through the in- 
terpreter, I expressed a desire to pay my respects to 
the bride. The astonished look on the faces of the 
men proved that this suggestion was a decided inno- 
vation, but the bridegroom finally consented when I 



:teeboum Jfeetival 



223 



proposed leaving the bride a silver souvenir. I was 
then conducted to a different house and ushered into 
a large room where the prospective bride, elaborately 
attired, was surrounded by and chatting with a great 
host of her female friends. I confess that my courage 
was put to a test as I ran this gauntlet of Oriental 
women, but I cordially shook hands with the bride 
and, through the interpreter, asked her to accept from 
an American traveler his wish for her future domes- 
tic happiness. I also expressed the hope that her life 
would be as long as her face was beautiful; and this 
little compliment was greeted with hilarious delight 
by her many friends as well as herself — for to their 
eyes it necessarily implied a very long life. However, 
the only form of entertainment I could discover 
among these Oriental ladies was ''chatting," and for 
this simple and inexpensive amusement the Arab ap- 
pears to be especially well qualified by his natural en- 
dowments. 

But to return to the festivities at the Pyramids. 
So-called music was first furnished by Arabs upon 
their native instruments, and I recognized the same 
old tune of the Midway. I have been told the Arabs 
have one or two other tunes, but I cannot recall hav- 
ing been told of a third. Like Chinese music, they 
all sound alike. Then some officers of the Khedive's 
army cleared a space for other musicians and dancers, 
and in so doing unceremoniously tumbled the camel 
boy over the white-bearded patriarch, who, in turn, 
shoved back the official doorkeeper of the Temple of 
the Sphinx, who, in his turn, pushed back some one 
else, and so on, like a row of standing bricks, until 
finally the Arabic scolding end threatening and swear- 
ing ceased and the lines were amicably readjusted. 



224 jfrom america to tbe ©dent 



Then a brass band made its appearance, and it is not 
yet quite clear to my mind whether the band and the 
native musicians were trying to play a responsive 
duet or whether one was determined to drown the 
noise of the other. Then a man and a boy made the 
round in an introductory dance very similar to th'> 
Soudanese style, in which the dancers by their quick, 
convulsive movements seem determined to violently 
throw a fragment of their hips at some imaginary foe. 

At this point in the program a much-heralded 
Egyptian dancer from Cairo, for whose performance 
a fabulous price was said to have been paid, made her 
appearance. 

And this young Egyptian, with her large, lustrous 
eyes, full face, clear complexion, dark hair, and with 
her robust but not unshapely figure arrayed in an 
elaborate gauzy black silk and lace dancing costume, 
richly ornamented with gilt and spangles and varied 
colored jewels, and at first covered with a loose-fit- 
ting crimson silk cloak, was one of the very few 
Egyptian dancers who could justly claim to be at- 
tractive. As she glided over the platform and danced 
in the Oriental style to which Egyptians have been 
accustomed for thousands of years, some of her 
movements might have been considered sufficiently 
graceful to be classed with the Delsarte physical cul- 
ture exercises; while the combination of her jewelled 
Oriental costume, the decorated crimson canopy, the 
brilliant lights, and the intense gaze of five hundred 
enraptured Bedouins of all sorts and conditions, all 
in the open desert and almost in the shadow of the 
Sphinx and Pyramids, carried me back with irresis- 
tible force to those olden days when the brilliancy 
and adventure of Oriental life fired my boyish imag- 



aSebouin Jfe6tf\?al S2$ 



ination through the fascinating tales of the "Arabian 
Nights." 

We left the festivities long before their close, and 
soon the bright lights and gay colors were again 
shut out from view by the abrupt turn in the road. 
And as we re-entered the gloomy presence of the 
Sphinx, its face, in the pale light of the moon, looked 
down upon us like a familiar shade from the dim and 
misty Past, and its strangely significant smile might 
have been interpreted as a disdainful sneer at the 
simple Egyptian festivities we had just witnessed, 
and as a suggestive hint of the marvellous tales she 
could tell of Oriental magnificence and voluptuous- 
ness, which marked those ancient festivities when 
Egypt was the proud mistress of the civilized world, 
or when Cleopatra waved her seductive spells over 
Marc Antony. 

F. A. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



THE RESTING PLACE OF THE PHARAOHS. 

P VERY traveller to a great city has one or two 
^ definite points of interest which draws him to- 
ward it. It is in Jerusalem the Holy Sepulchre, or 
the Mount of Olives ; in Rome the Colos- 
seum, or the Forum; in Athens the Parthenon, 
or Mars Hill; in Venice the Piazza of 
St. Mark, or the Bridge of Sighs; in Flor- 
ence the Ufizzi and Pitti galleries, or the monastery 
of Era Angelico ; in London the Tower, or Westmins- 
ter Abbey. In Cairo to many it is the people, or the 
Pyramids, those wonderful sepulchres of dead kings, 
whose "more than forty centuries looked down" upon 
Napoleon. Yet I confess to having a much more in- 
tense desire to see the Nile than the tombs of Cheops 
and Chephren, and the Museum of Gizeh even more 
than the Nile. It is all a matter of reading or habit 
of thought. The Pyramids, photographs could well 
represent. Their dead occupants are absent, and, 
only dismantled, grim masonry remains. Their ven- 
erable antiquity is splendid, and, seen from the river 
Nile, rather than close by, their forms are imposing 
and stately. I would not have missed the Pyramids — 
226 



tLbc l&baraobe 



those sentinels of such a hoary antiquity. Nor would 
sentiment permit me not to be fascinated with the 
yellow waters of the once mysterious Nile. But 
somehow I felt a much stronger impulse to see the 
coffined dead of Gizeh ; to look into the actual faces 
of the old conquerors of the Eighteenth and Nine- 
teenth Dynasties, who made the architecture of 
Egypt illustrious for all time, conquered the mighty 
nations of Syria and Libya, developed under learned 
priests the most stable and, in some respects, the most 
intense and least understood religion of pagan times, 
and had been for four hundred years the governing 
lords over the descendants of Abraham, culminating 
in those days of tyranny when at least one of them 
knew Moses and must have talked with him face to 
face. These once had been living beings, grand 
monarchs, splendid architects in stone and of story, 
and living men have always been more inspiring to 
my imagination than dead products of either nature 
or art. 

When, in 1881, those thirty-six Pharaohs and 
queen-wives of Pharaohs, and princes and high 
priests, were brought down the Nile from Deil-el- 
Bahari, where Emil Brugsch had found them, they 
found temporary resting place in the Boulak Museum, 
within the suburban limits of the city of Cairo. But 
all the Boulak treasures were removed in 1889 to 
Gizeh, on the high road to the Pyramids. 

I judge it to be about four miles from, say Shep- 
heard's Hotel, in the centre of Cairo, to the Gizeh 
Museum, and it is a most interesting drive. The 
Nile bridge, two-thirds of a mile long, will alone fur- 
nish an artist a variety of kaleidoscopic pictures of 
fellahin, camels, asses, buffalo, oxen, goats, country 



jfrom 2lmedca to tbe ^xicnt 



wagons and whole families on them, beggars, tramps, 
elegant turnouts, etc., such as he could not sketch in 
their variety in a month. Then comes the avenue, 
well-shaded and smooth as a floor, lined with lebbek 
acacias, following the course of the river and with 
charming views of the new and old city of Cairo, in- 
cluding the location of the nilometer of A. D. 716, 
and the traditional place of the finding of Moses in 
the bulrushes. When at last we reach the Museum, 
we find it a palace in a well-wooded park, which is 
all walled in with stone walls and full of pleasure 
grounds and gardens. In the middle ages it was 
the place of residence of the Mameluke sultans. The 
building we now see, the more modern Palace of 
Gizeh, was constructed by the Khedive Ismail for his 
harem, at a cost of twenty-four million dollars, and 
it would be an ideal place for the present Museum 
but for the fact that it is liable to burn down at any 
time, not being fireproof. The loss of its treasures 
to the world would be incalculable. 

Most of us visited the Museum twice. The first 
time we were enabled to obtain a general idea of what 
it contained and where. We then saw the three or 
four most powerful of the Pharaohs. But our 
glances at them and at other objects were hasty, and, 
by reason of it, feverish. Our curiosity was wrought 
up,' but not satisfied. On the second visit we ex- 
plored nearly every one of the ninety odd showrooms, 
and came away, no doubt, wiser and more seriously 
minded than when we entered. We learned of 
Egyptology considerable ; we saw of ancient Egyp- 
tians themselves a remarkable and an astounding 
spectacle. 

One can only speak definitely of what interested 



Zbc lPbaraob6 



22g 



himself in such a vast collection. For me, indepen- 
dently of the one chief and incomparable centre of 
attraction, I think I best enjoyed the splendidly pre- 
served statues, the oldest known to history, of the 
Prince Ra Hotep (the Peace of Ra), and his attract- 
ive wife, the Princess Nefert (the Beautiful), dis- 
covered within their own tomb at ]\Iedum, about 
forty miles south of Cairo. Nothing of modern 
times appears to be more lifelike than the statues of 
the Prince and Princess. He is not decorated like a 
m.odern royal personage, but sits in the plain, usual 
fashion of a man of intelligence and thoughtful- 
ness, dressed in a simple white kilt, which reaches to 
the knee, and with a single charm suspended round 
his neck. She has a plain robe of white, open at the 
neck, exhibiting an elaborate necklace of six rows of 
colored beads. He has close-cut hair. She has a 
bushy black wig of ringlets, which does not add to 
her beauty, though, on the whole, she must have been 
an attractive woman. Both were cut out of lime- 
stone of fine grain and were colored — he red, as the 
male sex was usually represented, and she fairer in 
color, and chiefly white because of her outside white 
robe. These two persons, of whom we have here ac- 
curate likenesses, are believed to have been closely 
related to the events of the Third Dynasty, over 5500 
years ago, or 3665 B. C. Think of the ages which 
have passed since sculptors full of genius cut their 
lifelike bodies in the hard, white limestone; ages rep- 
resented by at least seventy generations of men who 
lived before Moses received the Commandments of 
God at Sinai. If we are to judge from the paintings 
of oxen, geese and ducks found in the same tomb at 
Medum, now to be seen in the same room at Gizeh, 



230 jfrom amedca to tbe ©dent 



Prince Ra Hotep managed successfully a large and 
thrifty farm on the banks of the Nile, where the fash- 
ion and tools of farming were not unlike what they 
are to-day. 

Near these two statues is the small wooden statue 
known as ''The Village Sheik," found in a tomb at 
Memphis and believed to belong to the Sixth Dyn- 
asty, perhaps 3300 B. C. That a wooden image could 
survive fifty centuries seems impossible, but in an 
Egyptian climate and tomb all things relating to pres- 
ervation are possible. The Sheik is three and one- 
half feet high, fat and sleek ; is said to have had orig- 
inally a coat of plaster and then one of red paint. 
The plain wood, with some cracks in it, remains. It 
has eyes of white quartz, as have, by the way, the 
statues of Ra Hotep and Nefert just described. 
These, with their pupils of dark rock crystal and 
bronze eyelids, give a lifelike expression to each of 
the faces which is foreign to all modern marbles. 

The tomb of Tih is described in a later chapter. 
The statue of Tih is here and, if it be of the Fifth 
Dynasty, as is supposed, it shows just how he ap- 
peared in everyday life 5465 years ago. He was tall 
and square-shouldered and probably as amiable as 
he was active. 

The statues of King Chephren, found in a well 
in that oldest of old granite temples near the feet of 
the Sphinx ; the various large sarcophagi of different 
tombs of Egypt ; the nine colossal statues, almost 
alike, of Usertesen I., of perhaps 3000 B. C. ; the col- 
lections of papyri and scaraboei of the days of the 
earlier and later Pharaohs ; the stele of Meneptah, 
the Pharaoh of the Exodus, which earliest mentions 
the Israelitish people in Egypt : "Israel is wasted and 



tTbe ipbaraobs 



231 



his seed is brought to nothing" ; the tablet of Sak- 
kara, giving a list of fifty-eight Egyptian kings ; the 
decree in three languages of 238 B. C. found at 
Tanis ; the wax-colored portraits on cases of mum- 
mies of the Second and Third Centuries after Christ, 
so startling as speaking likenesses of the actual men 
and women encased within ; the house utensils and 
household gods of the long periods of time when all 
Egyptians worshipped Ptah and Ammon, Osiris and 
Horus; the exquisitely finished gold jewelry of Queen 
Aah-Hotep, who was buried with these ornaments at 
Thebes when Joseph was governor of Lower 
Egypt — ^these and a thousand similar and dissimilar 
objects arrested our too hasty attention. I would 
like to describe them all with some minuteness, but 
can only say to the reader, ''Go and see." 

And now, last as at first, we come to the one culmi- 
nating feature of Gizeh, the mummies of the valley 
of Thebes ; the kings and the priests of Upper and 
Lower Egypt ; the men of whose public temples we 
know so much, and of whose private homes and lives 
we know so little. 

The great find of royal mummies was in 1881. Ten 
years later another wonderful discovery followed — 
of the priests of Ammon — in the same Libyan hills 
near Thebes. And again in 1898 still another lot of 
eight Pharaohs of the period between Thothnies IV. 
and Rameses VIIL, exactly supplementary in dates 
to those of the earlier discovery, came to light. So 
that now some twenty or more of the great and 
lesser Pharaohs of the most interesting period in 
Egyptian history lie in state to any eye which 
chooses to look at them, and with them a host of 
priests and priestesses of the Temple of Ammon at 



232 jFrom America to tbe ©rient 



Thebes, who, while their names are not enrolled 
on the pages of history, have had full insight into 
all those mysteries of state religion in that far-off 
time, a better knowledge of which we curious mod- 
erns are tempted to covet. 

They, like their royal masters, are unwrapped and 
are exposed to the pitiless gaze of the crowd. Their 
noses, ears, shoulders, fingers are distorted, and their 
eyes and mouths stopped up with paste and bitu- 
men, but they are simply silent like other dead; if 
life could be breathed into them again they would 
speak and smile and tell stranger tales than any 
told us by the books or by living beings. 

Here were Thothmes 1. and II., Amenophis I., Seti 
I., Pinotem L, Rameses III. and others of the royal 
line; each with an individuality quite his own. The 
great warrior Thothmes III. had been also un- 
wrapped, but his form had quickly crumbled into 
dust and so he is not visible. 

I liked best of those named the splendidly pre- 
served, mahogany-black, serene countenance of old 
Seti I., father of the great Rameses. He was prob- 
ably even more of a tyrant than was his son; in 
many ways not so great a sovereign, though quite 
as much of a warrior; but this has nothing to do 
with his condition as a mummy. He is a first-class 
royal mummy. His sarcophagus of alabaster, now 
in the Sir John Soane museum in Lincoln's Inn 
Fields, London, is the finest in existence, and per- 
haps his is the best preserved mummy in the world. 
His face may belie his record, but it is as benign 
and refined as ever came from the embalmer's slab. 
The father to this extent outvies the son ; his phy- 
sique is clear-cut and strong, for he was evidently 



tTbe ipbaraobs 



?33 



in the flood tide of health, which sudden death ar- 
rested. I do not know which Pharaoh, Seti I. or 
Rameses II., or whether both, should be awarded 
the responsibility of cruelly enacting that all male 
Hebrew children should be cast into the river to 
die, but certainly one of these is the author of that 
command, and he had the power to carry out his 
decree, except where the beautiful love of his 
daughter prevented its execution."^ 

But a greater than a Thothmes or a Seti is here. 
Imperator imperatorum; the mightiest king known 
to the Greeks, and the most splendid embodiment 
of cruel power known to the Hebrews; the one 
kingly king whose wan face is most sought for by 
all strangers to the Museum; the Pharaoh whom 
we peculiarly longed to see in the flesh — how 
strange that such a thing could be possible! In the 
next coffin to Seti I. is this man, once the bright, 
strong son who at twelve years of age ascended 
the throne with Seti, as a co-partner of its glories, 
and who, after a most brilliant reign of sixty-seven 
years, closed his eyes in death; an old man, white 
of hair, but still with a leonine brain and heart. 
Rameses II. was supposed to have been beautiful 
in youth, as 'his statues of that period prove. In 
old age he could not have been handsome, even al- 

*The reasons given in Osborn's "Egypt in the Light of 
Modern Discovery," p. 77, seem quite conclusive that Seti I. 
was the father and Rameses II. the brother of the princess 
who saved Moses from the death penalty of her cruel parent. 
But, contrariwise, see a magnificently illustrated and hap- 
pily written article in the "Century Magazine" for May, 
1887, by John A. Paine, which holds that Nefer-ari, grand- 
daughter of Seti I., and daughter and (later) wife of Rameses 
II., was the gallant rescuer. 



234 jfrom Bmenca to tbe ©rlent 



lowing for the destructive adjuncts of pitch and 
natron, but he can easily be imagined to have 
shown in his countenance, including that thor- 
oughly Roman nose, a determination and force of 
character which made him like his father, to be *'a 
king who knew not Joseph," and who made the 
lives of the children of Israel "bitter unto them 
with hard bondage." We can not love the old man 
for the part he took in oppressing an honest and 
hardworking people, whose misfortune it was to 
grow up as an alien race in a land whither an 
ancient famine had brought them, but we can at 
least admire the remarkable granite structures and 
brilliant foreign conquests of his reign, the like 
of which made glorious the history of his country; 
and we can feel drawn toward him when we know 
that either his own daughter or his sister found the 
great Hebrew lawgiver by the rushes of the Nile, 
took him to her home, provided for his education at 
Heliopolis so that he became ''learned in all the wis- 
dom of the Egyptians," and, until Moses reached the 
age of forty years, must have known him as a man 
knows his friend. If any one closed mouth in that 
Museum could be opened for an hour to tell of the 
stirring events of his time, who would not wish it 
might be the mouth of Rameses II.? 

He died, perhaps, when approaching the age of 
eighty. No one knows exactly when he began to 
reign, or we could guess with absolute accuracy his 
age at death. If twelve when he became joint sov- 
ereign, as there seems ground to believe, he was 
seventy-nine when he died, for he reigned sixty-seven 
years. His illness was perhaps prolonged, for he 
looks emaciated and shrunken. Was he six or more 



^be ipbaraob6 



235 



feet tall, as is believed? If so, old age, or the process 
of the embalmer, has turned back the tide of growth, 
for he is now apparently much shorter in stature. I 
do not find in death any very intellectual expression 
there, but one of sternness and, I may also say, 
of some majesty. The same square shoulders of 
Prince Ra Hotep are there: it must have been a pe- 
culiarity of the Egyptian race. The legs are little 
more than skin and bone, and so are the feet, which, 
like the fingers, are long and slender. The finger and 
toe nails were dyed with henna — so do the Egyptians 
of to-day. The long neck seems unnatural, but the 
flesh of the shoulders is conspicuously absent, due, 
no doubt, to the art of mummification. The arms are 
folded across the breast, as was the custom in those 
days in laying out the dead. The forehead is low; 
the eyebrows thick and white in color; the temples 
sunken; the cheek bones prominent. How large 
seem to be the ears and the jawbone. But the mouth 
is small. There are little locks of white hair beside 
the ears and perha.ps a few days' growth of whitish 
beard on the smooth face — and this is all. He sleeps 
not in his own original coffin, but in one made for 
his body some years after his decease, when it be- 
came necessary to remove it, with the bodies of pre- 
decessors, to another and more secret tomb. Some 
of the ''mummy cloth" with which he was enveloped 
may be seen and there was none m the world finer, 
so far as we know. It was of rose color and orange 
linen and as fine as the finest gauze. Lotus flowers 
were bestrewn between the folds and a figure of the 
goddess Nut, in red and white, over a yard in length, 
was on one of the separate winding sheets. 

A3 I watched him there^ for the second time and 



236 3From Bmertca to tbe ©rient 



for several minutes, there came into my mind the 
words of his own autobiography, proving that at 
least one redeeming feature this powerful mona/ch 
had, amid all his faults and cruelties. He had ven- 
erated his father with splendid and unaffected zeal. 
Who does not admire the son who does not forget to 
honor his father? 

A. V. D. H. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



THE SITE OF MEMPHIS. 

'TPO ONE who stands upon the west river bank at 
* a point on the Nile twenty or more miles south 
of Cairo, and looks over the level stretch of land, in 
part covered with palm trees and in part with rich 
barley fields and the small mud village of Bed- 
resheyn, it seems wholly a dream that this was the 
site of the first great capital of Egypt, where glo- 
rious temples and statues dominated a city of hun- 
dreds of thousands of people. Save for the modern 
settlement named, which a good, strong storm might 
wash away in a night, are only grain fields, inter- 
mixed with desolation. As far as the eye can reach, 
north, south and west, Memphis must have stood, 
but it is not. "Noph shall be waste and desolate 
without an inhabitant," prophesied Jeremiah (Jere. 
46: 14, 19) some half a century before Nebuchad- 
nezzar invaded Egypt. The invasion came. Noph 
237 



Jfrom Smedca to tbe ©dent 



was then partially overthrown. The centuries came 
and went, and Noph was made utterly desolate. It 
exists now only in name and not even one respect- 
able ruin marks its site. And yet down to the 
Twelfth Century so vast were its overthrown build- 
ings that it excited the wonder of beholders. 

Memphis was Men-Nefer, ''the good abode/' ''the 
beautiful abiding place." Noph was a contraction of 
"Nefer," designated Memphis. The first great king 
of the First Dynasty, Menes, came down the Nile 
from Thinis, his birthplace, and selected this spot 
for his royal residence. That may have been 4400, 
some think even 5200 B. C, and at the latest was 
fully 362^ B. C. ; a long while before Israelitish his- 
tory, and perhaps but a short time after the days of 
Noah. Sir J. William Dawson, the eminent scien- 
tific and religious writer of England, sees no reason 
for doubting that the first settlers of Memphis were 
direct and near descendants of Ham, and he also says 
that "not many generations removed from Ham 
were the builders of the earlier pyramids." (Daw- 
son's "Egypt and Syria," p. 17.). He even finds in 
the statues of Chephren, builder of the second Pyra- 
mid, and of the Princess Nefert* "typical representa- 
tives of the immediate descendants of Noah." If we 
are standing on ground at Memphis where a grand- 
child or a great-grandchild . of Noah stood and 
planned out a splendid capital, it surely adds to its 
thrilling interest. But it is enough to know that the 
beginnings of the religious and art life of this won- 
derful country of Egypt began here, let who will 
have been its first landowner. 

We took a steamer at Cairo from near the long 



*See Chapter XXIX. 



trbe Site of /Ifeempbt6 239 



Nile bridge to reach the site of Memphis. We char- 
tered it for the day, as there were no regular steamers 
runnmg to this point. It had a few cabins, in case 
one desired to take a nap in them; they were used, 
no doubt, as bedrooms by such as took them for a 
longer trip upon the Nile. An American flag was 
at the bow, and as we steamed off against the cur- 
rent we had singular feelings of satisfaction and curi- 
osity; of satisfaction at being at last launched upon 
such historically ancient waters, and of curiosity at 
what we might see along and beyond its banks for 
even the short journey we were to take. It was the 
Nile of Cleopatra and of Caesar and of Antony. If 
these were disagreeable nightmares for the Roman 
and Egyptian worlds, still, with barges as beautiful 
as the queen herself, how bewitching must have been 
the river in those wondrous days. But, a thousand 
or more years before, how the old Pharaohs loved to 
go to and fro oven these voluptuous waters, with 
bright sails and with swift slave rowers. What if the 
Nile could speak; would it not tell of cities that have 
risen and fallen, of kings and queens long since 
turned into mummies, of empires and dynasties 
whose histories parallel the human race? 

This Nile is just as narrow and just as broad as 
it always was in the dry season — say a thousand feet 
wide at Cairo and varying from that to a thousand 
yards at some places far up toward its source. When 
the high floods of October come, the "miracle" 
transpires by which it rises full sixteen feet and cov- 
ers all the fertile land of Egypt, east and west, in 
some places twelve miles, in others three or four 
miles, in width. I would have given a great deal to 
have seen the Nile at its flood tide. But we had to 



240 



jFrom Bmedca to tbe ©rient 



be contented with it just as it is in April, a lordly 
stream, its current about three miles an hour, with 
banks of Nile mud often picturesque with palms. 
The great irrigating wheels, propelled by water- 
buffaloes, which go round and round their tiresome 
circles all day long, were everywhere along the 
banks. Here and there were small mud villages, 
scarcely worth attention except las proving how 
meanly human beings can live, when they aspire no 
higher than did their immediate fathers. I am afraid 
the bulk of ancient Egyptians lived much as do the 
fellahin of the present year of grace, and, if so, this 
will account for it that we have no ruins of mansions 
of the old times except of the temples of the gods. 
Even the Pharaohs seem to have resided in but poor- 
ly constructed buildings which perished with them. 
For all this, however, there was a reason. The 
Egyptians, great and humble, king and peasant, 
"considered their houses only their stopping places, 
but their tombs their homes.'* As Diodorus 
Siculus wrote (I: chap. 51), they "call the dwellings 
of the living lodgings, because they are only occu- 
pied for a short time; the tombs, on the contrary, 
they call eternal homes, because their occupants 
never leave them." 

Our best views of the Great Pyramids were ob- 
tained about ten miles up the Nile. They were large, 
dreamy, imperial objects against the western hori- 
zon, soft in outlines and in color, full of artistic 
beauty and serene majesty. I would rather have 
this view in memory thaa any closer one which we 
obtained. 

Just before arriving at our landing place, which 
was simply a bank of the river opposite to a bridle 



Zbc Site of /fcempbls] 241 



path and near some conspicuous palms, a lot of 
donkeys and donkey boys made their appearance 
and began to follow us. To keep up with our speed 
they goaded the donkeys, which galloped vigor- 
ously along. The sight was a ludicrous one, for the 
boys shouted and laughed, and their garb, consist- 
ing of a white or blue tunic and not much more, with 
their dark faces, sharp goads and parti-colored sad- 
dles, made a rather grotesque appearance. The boat 
and they halted together. Then we walked down the 
plank thrown out to the bank, and the selection of 
donkeys followed. There was one horse only, and 
that was for our Palestine and now our Egyptian 
conductor, Mr. Tadros, as was soon discovered. 
The rest of us took about whatever was offered, and 
in five minutes were going along single file toward 
the village of Bedresheyn. 

We crossed the railway, passed by the village 
along its main business street, I judge, kept upon 
some narrow embankments which shut out the Nile 
overflow, except as gates in it regulated the ingress 
of water, and in the course of two miles reached the 
first of the Rameside statues. All this time we were 
on ground where Memphis had stood, but there was 
neither sight nor sign of any former city. From the 
Great Pyramids, fifteen miles north, to the 
Pyramids of Dahshur, seven miles south, we were 
told great "Noph" once covered every broad acre. 
A city of perhaps a hundred square miles, and we 
had yet no token of its existence! 

Rameses II., once, when a young man, had a nar- 
row escape from fire, said to have been an incen- 
diary one, the perpetrator of the crime being his 
own brother. As a thank-offering for his escape he 



jfrom Bmedca to tbe ^xlcnt 



erected at Memphis a magnificent temple to the chief 
god of that city, Ptah, and in front of that temple 
placed two statues of himseli. They were heroic in 
size and were executed with beautiful art. This first 
stone we paused at was one of them. It was of rose- 
colored granite, the crown separated from the head 
and the feet broken off above the ankles. On the 
right side of the left leg the likeness of a son is 
sculptured; on the left, that of a daughter. Out there 
among the palm trees, in a spot inexpressibly lonely, 
it seemed to be wholly out of place. But as we stood 
on it and looked upon its silent, stern face, we were 
forced to admire its sturdy grandeur. Just a couple 
of hundred yards away was its mate, a different and 
more beautiful statue perhaps, both representing the 
king at one age yet doubtless by different artists. 
Authentic portraits both; but very difficult it is to 
see in this young man's features the withered and 
emaciated countenance of the Pharaoah of the Mu- 
seum of Gizeh. These two colossal statues were re- 
spectively about thirty-two and forty-two feet in 
height, and the artificial beard attached to the chin, 
as was the custom with Egyptian imperial statues, 
increased their solemn dignity. Herodotus saw these 
same statues four hundred and fifty years before 
Christ, and, as he described them, so they are. But 
why should these two giants lie here and no other 
statues, no stones of the temple, no coeval monu- 
ments,, nothing whatever of the ancient city? Why 
should they alone testify to the utter desolation of 
Noph? 

Some of us could go no farther this day, owing 
to the heat and to fatigue; so- we returned to the 
steamer to rest for several hours, while our fresher 



tbc Site of /Ifcempbfs 243 



companions went on to see the chambers of the Apis 
bulls, which aided to make Memphis memorable, 
and the tombs of the dead who were buried in the 
great necropolis on the brow of the range of hills 
several miles west of the city, in full view of the 
Libyan desert. 

A. V. D. H. 



CHAPTER XXXL 



THE TOMB OF TIH. 



HE Book of Genesis relates that when Joseph 



i went up to bury his father Jacob, the Canaan- 
ites said, "This is a grievous mourning to the Egyp- 
tians.'^ Certainly the art of mourning as practised 
by the people of ancient Egypt was sufficiently 
formidable. Old Herodotus bore witness that the 
Egyptians, besides having a climate and river dif- 
ferent from anything else in the world, had adopt- 
ed customs equally peculiar; to our thinking the 
strangest custom of all was that which made it the 
chief business of every Egyptian's life to get him- 
self magnificently buried after he was dead. 

The earliest capital of Egypt was Memphis, and 
nearly all that now remains of this city is its vast 
Necropolis, extending for some twenty miles along 
the edge of the desert plateau just west of the Nile 
valley. Tombs are found everywhere throughout 
this entire region, and also several groups of pyra- 
mids, these being themselves a more stupendous 
variety- of tombs. The nine pyramids of the Gizeh 
group, including that of Cheops, the greatest of 
them all, stand within the northern limit of this im- 
mense Cemetery; while those of the Dahshur group, 
twenty miles away across the desert, stand within 




244 



XLbc XTomb of Zib 



245 



the southern limit. Nearer the centre of the Ne- 
cropolis, and on the borders of the ancient capital, 
are the Sakkara group, one of them from its pe- 
culiar shape being called the Step Pyramid. 

Our donkeys carried us comfortably enough from 
Bedresheyn to Sakkara, donkeys and donkey boys 
affording us no little amusement. The ways of the 
Egyptian Arab are peculiar when he is in search of 
"bakshish," and my own boy, with a quick guess at 
my race and calling, had re-named his beast Moses 
McKinley. I had no fault to find with Moses ex- 
cept when he tried to drag me through the insuf- 
ficient space between a loaded camel and a palm 
tree, and when he indulged the habit of stopping in 
full career to scratch his nose against his forefoot. 
One of the other donkeys by a similar manoeuvre 
projected his rider over his head. 

We rode a few miles through palm groves and 
fertile fields, then climbed a hundred feet or so of 
sand; and almost in a moment the green of the Nile 
Valley was lost to sight behind us, and nothing re- 
mained but the splendid desolation of the desert; the 
sand shining like snow in the sun's glare, but with 
the heat of a furnace seven times heated. Halting 
on one of the higher dunes, we could see at once the 
whole expanse of the Necropolis, with the several 
groups of the pyramids, some close beside us, and 
others many miles away to the north and south. It 
was the most impressive view we had of those gi- 
gantic creations of human art. There they stood, 
as they have stood from the beginning of recorded 
time, and as they will continue to stand after all our 
other temples and palaces have crumbled to dust, 
gazing at each other across the desert, and exchang- 



246 jfrom Bmedca to tbe ©dent 



ing their leisurely communications. For I could 
not rid my mind of the thought that they had come 
to know each other well in these slow centuries; 
and that while communing with each other they 
were sublimely indifferent to us, creatures of an 
hour, crawling about their base. 

The pyramids of Sakkara are smaller and ruder 
than some of the other groups, but the tombs of 
Sakkara show Egyptian art at its finest. We were 
able to visit several of them, including the Sera- 
peum, the burial place of the ancient temple of 
Apis, a long, dark passage hewn in the solid rock 
where the sacred bulls were buried, each in its gran- 
ite sarcophagus. We visited also the tombs of Meri 
and of Tih, the latter, as I was afterwards told by 
Professor Sayce, offering the finest example of 
mural decoration now accessible in the country. The 
tomb is really a large house, or temple, originally 
standing above ground, I believe, though long ago 
the drifting sands have covered it over so that a 
passage must be kept cleared down to its entrance. 

Sliding down this passageway and entering the 
door, you walk through a long series of chambers, 
and find their walls covered with most delicate carv- 
ings, innumerable figures cut in low relief on the 
limestone slabs. Tih was a high official, it appears, 
under a king of one of the earlier dynasties, about 
the time the Great Pyramid was built, three or four 
thousand years before Christ — for a thousand years 
more or less hardly counts in Egyptian antiquity. At 
intervals along the wall the figure of Tih himself ap- 
pears, life-size, majestic, among the little creatures 
ten or twelve inches high who surround him. These 
S^em to represent the people of his househol4 and 



Zbc XTomb of XTib 



247 



the slaves on his estate bringing to their master the 
various fruits of their labor. 

On one slab will.be an interminable line of por- 
ters, each bearing in one hand a fowl, or fruit, or 
other small burden, while the other hand steadies 
the great basket carried on the head, and filled with 
produce of the estate, jars of wine, or loaves of 
bread: it made one think of the baker's dream, Jo- 
seph's companion in prison. On the next slab will 
be long processions of cattle with their drovers, or, 
it may be, their butchers; or perhaps carpenters 
building a ship, or boatmen fishing, or spearing the 
hippopotamus or the crocodile. All the domestic 
customs of that faraway past are brought before you 
with the vividness, and almost the accuracy, of the 
modern photograph. 

It disconcerts one's theories of historic evolution 
to find these earliest mural decorators displaying an 
excellence in their art which has scarcely been 
equalled in these later days. On the other hand, as 
we studied the domestic customs of those long- 
buried generations, we found everywhere startling 
resemblances to what we had been seeing above 
ground in the modern Egyptian. 

A very strange country Egypt is: if you would 
learn the meaning of its history, you must seek it in 
a tomb. 

W. R. R. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 



VENICE. 



ENICE remains to me like a series of enchant- 



V ing pictures in the mind. 

And the first picture is that of the city as seen 
from the steamer on our arrival. A long stretch of 
water, smooth as glass, the channel marked out 
with piles, spread out before us. The city, first so 
indistinct because of the mist overhanging every- 
thing, becomes more and more clear as we approach. 
On the right are the Public Gardens, with pretty, 
feathery foliage, and before us the entrance to the 
Grand Canal. The various Campaniles hold our fas- 
cinated gaze for a long time. How beautiful they 
are! They seem much more substantial than the 
minarets of the East. Directly before us and 
grouped together are many of the interesting places 
we had so longed to see. At our left the church of 
Santa Maria della Salute and the Custom House; 
on the right St. Mark's Square, guarded by the Lion 
and the statue of St. Theodore, these ancient memo- 
rials being perched on high columns close to the 




248 



Venice 



249 



water's edge. Here is the Doge's Palace; next be- 
yond St. Mark's and its Campanile; and now we see 
the Bridge of Sighs between the Doge's Palace and 
the Prison. On either side of the broad entrance to 
the square, hotels and private dwellings rise directly 
out of the water; and between us and this charming 
picture the fascinating gondolas come and go with 
a gliding motion, appearing more like some new 
kind of water-bird than boats propelled by oars. 

The next great vision presented to us was, of 
course, St. Mark's Square. Entering at the right of 
the square before us is the piazza, bordered on three 
sides by a colonnade lined with shops, offering all 
sorts of tempting souvenirs for sale. The arches of 
the colonnade serve as a fitting approach to the Ca- 
thedral, which closes the fourth side of the quad- 
rangle. 

Why describe St. Mark's Cathedral when the pic- 
ture is so vivid before the minds of all with its beau- 
tiful mosaics over each entrance, the immense 
bronze horses of Nero over the middle doors, the 
handsome domes and graceful spires finishing the 
roof, and golden colors over all, making the whole 
look bright, cheerful, Oriental, splendid. 

The first church which stood on this site was 
burned in the Tenth Century, and the architects in 
rebuilding it chose as a model the Mosque of St. So- 
phia in Constantinople. There are five hundred marble 
shafts used in its embellishment, which were brought 
by vessels as tribute from various ports. It was com- 
pleted in the Fourteenth Century, so that it has 
stood as it now stands for over five hundred years. 
The interior of the church is dark, for the marbles 
^r^ ajl sombre in tone^ the mosaics of the ceiling 



250 jFrom Bmerlca to tbe ©dent 



with their gold background being about the only 
bright colors in the edifice. These mosaics date back 
to the Eleventh Century, and are Byzantine. 'They 
picture the Bible history in strange and fantastic 
designs. The beautiful statues of the Madonna, of 
St. Mark and the Apostles over the chancel screen 
belong to the Fifteenth Century. The bronze door 
of the sacristy, by Jacopo Sancovino, reminds us of 
the famous door by Ghiberti in the baptistery at 
Florence, the Entombment and the Resurrection 
being powerfully conceived compositions. 

The Campanile at the right is majestic in its pro- 
portions and restful in color, the soft light red of the 
tower being well offset by the dull green tiles of 
the roof. 

Next to St. Mark's stands the Doge's Palace. 
Liibke says: *'The upper and lower colonnades of 
the Doge's Palace are the most magnificent of their 
kind in the world." They are Gothic. A Ducal Pal- 
ace has stood on this site for many centuries; often 
destroyed by fire, it has been each time rebuilt with 
more splendor, until the present building is the re- 
sult. It is constructed in the form of a hollow 
square, the inner court being in perfect keeping with 
the outside. On one side of the court is the Giant 
staircase, called so because of the colossal figures of 
Neptune and Mars guarding the top of the flight. 
This stairway was finished by Antonio Rizzo in 1498. 
At the head of the stairway between these two stat- 
ues, the Doges were crowned, after which followed 
the ceremonial of the Espousal of the Sea. The 
great council chamber of the Palace contains the 
enormous painting of Paradise, thirty by seventy- 
four feet, by Tintoretto. The composition is con- 



Venice 



251 



fused, there being too many figures to secure the dig- 
nity which such a subject would warrant. We 
passed through the many rooms of the palace with 
their elaborately painted walls and ceilings and en- 
deavored to imagine how the people lived who re- 
sided in such grandeur. 

Closely connected with the history of the Doge's 
Palace is that of the Bridge of Sighs, the next and 
perhaps even greater object of interest. We crossed 
it with a feeling of excitement because of the dread- 
ful tales associated with this place. We then re- 
traced our steps and wended our way down into the 
dungeons under the palace itself, where we peered 
into the small, dark, damp cells, and finally gazed 
with fascinated horror at the stone where all execu- 
tions took place and at the door in the wall through 
which the bodies were thrown into the canal below. 
We were glad to breathe the fresh air again and to 
see once more above us the light of heaven. 

The Arsenal, too, is a building intimately associ- 
ated with the past greatness of this intensely interest- 
ing city. Nearly twenty thousand men were em- 
ployed here furnishing Venice with arms and ships 
during the period of her greatest power, but now 
there are comparatively few at work within its walls. 
The entrance is impressive, guarded as it is by two 
enormous Hons, one of them the lion from the 
mound at Marathon; and over the door is another 
lion of St. Mark's. We met him everywhere. 

Let us float in our gondolas for a while and enjoy 
being pushed about in this lazy style with no dust 
and no rough pavements. It is a constant wonder 
how the gondoliers can steer round corners and past 
other gondolas, coming within an inch or two of 



252 3From Bmedca to tbc ©dent 



each other at times and yet not touching. A won- 
derful art, that of propelHng a gondola, and one of 
my friends seemed very desirous of learning it. 
Meanwhile we are passing through one narrow canal 
after another, catching refreshing little glimpses 
through gateways of courtyards filled with varieties 
of shrubs and flowering plants. Now and then we 
see a vine which has flung itself over a wall or a tree 
peeping above it. We are on our way to the Public 
Gardens, the only spot near Venice where one can 
get even a taste of the country. A long, wide road, 
running straight out from the landing place bor- 
dered on either side by pretty graceful trees, bright 
flower beds here and there, a band playing some- 
where out of sight, pleasant looking people resting 
on the benches or walking about listening to the mu- 
sic (there is an Exposition on the grounds) make up 
this inviting scene. 

This finished, now for the Grand Canal and the Ri- 
alto Bridge! The vicinity of this bridge seems to be 
the only really busy spot in Venice. On each side of 
it are little shops, where are sold all sorts of cheap 
trinkets and articles of clothing. The people whom 
you see here are certainly picturesque and would fur- 
nish an artist with models for years. The fact that 
the bridge is an arch and you are obliged to ascend 
steps toward the centre and go down on the other 
side, makes it all the more quaint. 

We now enter our gondolas again and float down 
the canal. The view of the bridge from a little dis- 
tance is most charming — the graceful curve over the 
blue canal, the six arches on either side, with a much 
higher arch in the center; the delicate color: is it 
not a fitting connecting link for the two sides of this 



Wenice 



253 



most lovely sheet of water? As we glide along we 
are shown, almost in juxtaposition, as if there were 
not ages apart in their associations, the house of 
Desdemona and that of Don Carlos of Spain, and 
for our special benefit Don Carlos's boatmen appear 
from a side canal and pass us as if in review. We 
are shown, too, in a low, dark shop the house of 
Shylock. And so we proceed, palaces, hotels, 
houses, museums, churches, all in quick succession, 
and all beautiful in their colors and architecture and 
even in their decay. 

There is one interesting indoor picture which I 
wish yet to place before the reader — the lace mak- 
er's establishment near St. Mark's Cathedral. Here 
are girls of all ages, wiho only receive a franc a day, 
the best paid of them making the finest laces over 
cushions. We watch them for a while as they throw 
the small spindles about in a seemingly hap-hazard 
way. But it all ''comes out right," and in the show- 
rooms can be seen the result of their labors. 

One scene yet — a night scene — and what a gor- 
geous one. It is a festal picture. An enormous pea- 
cock is constructed, covered with many colored 
lights, the tail particularly resplendent, as it rises 
high in air. The effect is gorgeous. Close your 
eyes and imagine this bird, as if just from fairyland, 
on a large platform, slowly floating down the Grand 
Canal, stopping occasionally in its onward progress. 
From the rear of the platform, listen! the strains of 
an opera, produced by a fine orchestra. Now two 
glorious voices are lifted in song. And crowded all 
about in front and behind are hundreds of gondolas 
following, each with a lantern fixed in the bow. It 
is a night scene never to be forgotten. 



^54 3From Hmedca to tbe ©dent 



Of course we wandered through the Academy and 
hoped to bring away even a shght impression of 
some of the masterpieces of painting. It would take 
weeks to study the collection so as to obtain an 
adequate idea of the wealth of art in this gallery. I 
mention a few which I wish always to remember. 
Of the older Venetian school Bellini and Carpaccio 
are the masters, and of the Renaissance, Giorgione, 
Titian, Tintoretto and Paolo Veronese. Here is 
Titian's "Ascension of the Virgin." Liibke says: "A 
masterpiece of his period of greatest vigor is the 
Ascension of the Virgin in the Academy in Venice. 
The magnificent form of the Madonna floats in 
space, surrounded by a shining host of rejoicing 
angels; her face is marvellously transformed by a di- 
vine illumination as she gazes into the majesty of 
heaven. Far above her appears, with outstretched 
arms, God the Father surrounded by a glory of 
angels; below are the Apostles, gazing upward with 
passionate longing, seeming to be drawn after the 
transfigured Madonna, who leaves them behind on 
the earth to mourn. The story is told with free, bold 
touches, and with an overpowering wealth of color." 
Mrs. Oliphant in the ''Makers of Venice" says of 
"The Feast in the House of Levi," by Paolo Ver- 
onese: "As we walk into such a presence and see the 
splendid party serenely banqueting, with the sky 
opening into heavenly blue behind them, the ser- 
vants bringing in the courses, appearing and dis- 
appearing behind the columns, the carpet flung in 
all its Oriental wealth of color upon the cool semi- 
transparence of the marble steps, the room, of which 
this forms one side, is transformed forever." I 
found a great part of Tintoretto's work placed in 



IDenice 



^55 



the Doge's Palace and the various churches. ''The 
Marriage at Cana/' in the sacristy of Santa Maria 
della Salute, is one of his most important composi- 
tions. I have already mentioned the huge painting 
of ''Paradise" in the council chamber in the Doge's 
Palace, where are many of his wall and ceiling paint- 
ings. 

"Bellini's 'Enthroned Madonnas.' " says Mrs, 
Hurll, "are known throughout the world. The picture 
by which he established his fame was one of this 
class, originally painted for a chapel in San Giobbe, 
but now hanging in the Venice Academy. Ruskin 
has pronounced it 'one of the greatest pictures ever 
painted in Christendom.' It is a large composition, 
with three saints at each side, and three choristers 
below. The 'Frari Madonna' is in a simpler vein, 
and consists of three compartments, the central one 
containing the Virgin's throne. The angioletti, on the 
steps, are probably the most popular of their charm- 
ing class in Venice." 

In the Church of the Frari are the tombs of Titian 
and of Canova, magnificent and dignified monu- 
ments to these two celebrated artists. 

After wandering about in the Venetian shops, 
coveting much that we saw, floating about in gon- 
dolas and lazily wishing we could keep on float- 
ing and feeding the doves in front of St. Mark's, we 
were obliged to say good-bye even to "Venice, the 
Beautiful," — 

" Venice once so dear, 
The pleasant place of all festivity, 
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy." 

E. C. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



FLORENCE. 



HAT a delightful though tantalizing ride it 



▼ ▼ is through the beautiful country between the 
"Queen City of the Adriatic" and the ''Fairest City 
of the Earth!" A perfect picture of springtime on 
this sixth day of May — the Tuscan hills and green 
valleys made charming by a profusion of grape vines 
hanging in festoons between the trees. And as we 
dashed in and out of the many tunnels, we caught 
glimpses of monasteries and citadels, silent, anti- 
quated towns and villages perched or nestled among 
the hills, cascades and waterfalls sparkling in the 
sunshine, stations with their odd, quaintly dressed 
women guards, and, towering grandly above all, the 
snow-capped Apennines; while near us, always 
peacefully, restfully, flowed the Arno. Notwith- 
standing all this beauty, "the tease" and "the sleepy 
man of the party" demanded their usual attention. 
So, enjoying the loveliness without, patiently, laugh- 
ingly enduring the inflictions within, we came to the 
summit of a hill and saw below us an enchanting 
picture — fair Florence in the valley by the banks of 
the Arno, surrounded by hills and mountains, vil- 
lages and hamlets; a fascinating scene with an in- 
expressible charm over all. Our exclamations of 
256 




JFlorence 



257 



delight had scarcely ceased when we were taken pos- 
session of by porters and soon comfortably housed 
in the Hotel Cavour, near the Bargello. 

Florence, with all her wealth of masterpieces of 
painting and sculpture, her famous churches, monas- 
teries, bridges, has a richer possession in the mem- 
ory of the lives of the illustrious men who made this 
city renowned by their works. Supposed to have 
been founded by the dictator Sulla, 80 B. C, it has in 
the centuries gone been one of the most important 
and powerful cities of Europe, the gayest of capitals 
before Italy's seat of government was transferred to 
Rome. Though years are required in the study of its 
history and treasures, yet in the few days we were 
within her walls much benefit and pleasure were re- 
ceived. 

The first day, Sunday, each one of us consulted his 
or her own desire, going to English service or wan- 
dering through the art galleries — Pitti, considered by 
some authorities the finest collection of paintings in 
the world, and Ufifizi, one of the choicest and most 
varied of Europe. How our dreams were more than 
realized as in awe and delight we wandered in and 
out of rooms, up and down the long galleries, view- 
ing the beautiful Madonnas and scenes from the 
Mount of Olives, from the Garden and from Cal- 
vary. How wonderfully the old masters brought to 
perfection their conceptions of the saints, the child 
Jesus and the Virgin Mary, the all-absorbing sub- 
jects of their works! As I lingered in the Tribune 
of the Uffizi where ''painting and rarest sculpture 
make the new rushing world stand still in presence 
of what an older, slower, mightier world did," I was 
irresistibly drawn to the one purest, brightest marvel 



25^ JFrom Bmerica to tbe ©dent 



of the place, Raphael's ''Madonna of the Goldfinch." 
How it touches and thrills the heart to see the little 
childish hand poised gently over the tiny bird, while 
the divine look in the Christ-eyes so softly, sadly, 
expresses a world of love. "Not one of these shall 
fall to the ground without your Father." And sur- 
rounding it, the magnificent works of Bartolomeo, 
Correggio, Michael Angelo, Titian, Durer; and the 
famous statuary, "Venus Medici," "The Wrestlers," 
"The Dancing Fawn" — bewildering! And I rushed 
away to rest my eyes on the "incomparably sweet" 
angels of Fra Angelico, "The Tabernacle" and "The 
Virgin's Coronation" — "that sea of angel faces, per- 
fect in every type of form and radiant with the mean- 
ings of heaven; that thronging High Court of 
Heaven, blossoming tier above tier in raptures and 
sweetnesses, and still tumults of joy!" 

Though I could give but a glimpse, the morning 
was soon gone at the Ufhzi; and Pitti Palace held 
me charmed for the afternoon. Too much it seemed; 
the superb decorations of the palace and those un- 
rivalled and celebrated works of Michael Angelo, 
Titian, Murillo, Rubens, Salvator Rosa, Andrea del 
Sarto, and Raphael's "Madonna della Seggiola." 
Happy Florence, to possess such treasures that 
touch and uplift the heart of men to higher, holier 
things. 

Weariness mingled with my enjoyment as the 
hours sped away and some of us turned our" steps 
to the Protestant cemetery to see the tombs of Theo- 
dore Parker and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The 
dainty forget-me-nots surrounding Mrs. Browning's 
tomb tell in their own sweet way that this gifted 
singer's memory is kept fragrant. 



iftorencc 



It was with pleasure we then resigned ourselves to 
the will and wish of our un-Romeo-like coachman 
and were whirled away to the Cascine, the beautiful 
park of Florence, with its fine drives and lovely scen- 
ery. Weary, happy tourists, feasting on this en- 
chanting bit of nature, dreaming of things past and 
to come, chatting and unsuspecting — what was our 
amazement when suddenly we were halted, and in 
front of us four coachmen rose to the highest pin- 
nacle of the carriage. What could the meaning be! 
What could men and women, who were just fresh 
from palanquins, donkeys, camels, mountain passes, 
stony, frightful precipices and heated, blinding des- 
erts, think of the scene that held spell-bound our 
four Florentines this Sabbath evening? On tiptoe 
they gazed over the high board fence to the side 
of us, not noting back of them the pained, suffering 
faces of their victims, who had to await the pleasure 
of their drivers, while the wild cheering was borne 
away by the evening breeze. The unexpected! An 
episode — soon over and forgotten as merrily we sur- 
rounded the dinner table and listened to the wis- 
dom that freely flowed from the lips of the dear 
friends whom we were now to rejoin. 

A night's rest, and the day began with a lovely 
morning drive over the Arno, past San Miniato with 
its cypresses to the terrace of Michael Angelo that 
overlooks the city and the valley from the Appenines 
to the Maritime Alps — a magnificent view! Back 
of us was Galileo's tower; below, in clear view, ''the 
Pantheon, or Westminster Abbey of Florence," 
Santa Croce. A statue of Dante is in this square. 
Gray and dull looking are many of these ancient 
churches, burying their grandeur between the 



26o afrom America to tbe ©dent 



gloomy walls that extend far back among the build- 
ings of the city. Our time was limited, and we could 
look but briefly at the tombs of Michael Angelo, 
Rossini, Galileo, and others, and Giotto's mar- 
velous frescoes. This vast hall with its massive 
pillars, the windows giving but faint light, revealed to 
us too little in our passing look of the meaning and 
thought of the master-builder that abound in every 
stone and column. "You are to read and think un- 
der these severe walls of mine; immortal hands will 
write upon them." But Arnolfo's advice could not be 
heeded. 

Michael Angelo's home, with its quaint, small 
rooms and chapel, filled with reminders of this great 
artist's life, awaited us. Difficult it was to realize 
that we were in the very rooms where this great 
man lived and worked and prayed. 

We made haste then to see the mausoleum of 
the Medici, passing on our way the narrow, gloomy 
looking home of Dante, just what I imagine a soul 
like his would require and make. Peculiar is the 
low ceiled vestibule of the Medici chapel, and we 
left it by a flight of stairs to the tombs of the princes. 
The octagonal chapel is covered with a dome and 
surrounded by monuments; the walls, gorgeously 
decorated with marbles and mosaics, present fine 
specimens of the Florentine industry. A quiet re- 
mark informed us that near by was the aunt of the 
Emperor of Germany, who was enjoying as did we 
the magnificence of these tombs. The Sacristy with 
its bare walls is the architectural masterpiece of 
Michael Angelo, and contains some of his celebrated 
statues, among them ''Day and Night" and ''Twi- 
light and Dawn." 



jflorence 



261 



The morning ramble ended at the Piazza del Du- 
omo with its cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, the 
glorious Campanile and the Baptistery. How can 
one write of this 'Visible heart of the great old city?" 
The Duomo, the manifestation of the thought of the 
great souls of Arnolfo, Giotto, Andrea Pisano, Bru- 
nellesco, and others, so beautiful, majestic in its 
vastness; one is awed by the solemnity of this great 
cathedral. Pius IX. in comparing it with St. Peter's 
at Rome said: 'Tn St. Peter's man thinks; in Santa 
Maria del Fiore, man prays." Not crowded nor 
striking in its richness, though containing works of 
Ghiberti, Luca della Robbia, Donatello, Michael An- 
gelo and many others. The Duomo by its simple 
greatness makes one feel his own insignificance 
and his thoughts turn heavenward. The Campanile, 
of such great height, yet so light and graceful, so 
pure and beautiful, has at its base the bas-reliefs 
of which Ruskin says the study of it 'Svill give you 
strength for all your life." And the Baptistery with 
its marvelous gates of bronze — Ghiberti's ''Gates of 
Paradise" — how wonderful! I gladly joined ethers 
in the study of the ten scenes from Old Testament 
history which are on this gate, "Worthy of Para- 
dise." 

'Tis a long story, this sight-seeing in Florence, 
but I must not forget the famous old historical Pal- 
azzo Vecchio, which, with the beautiful Loggia, 
stands in the Piazza della Signoria, the centre of 
Florentine business life. Its rustic architecture, the 
grey, rough stone work of its huge mass, crowned 
by a covered gallery, surmounted by Guelph battle- 
ments, and, rising above all, the watch tower, so odd 
and singular, which for ages has witnessed the great 



262 3From amedca to tbe ©dent 



public meetings, the frequent turmoils and revolu- 
tions of Florence — what memories haunt this palace 
and square! I walked up and down the grand ''Hall 
of the Five Hundred," surrounded by the lofty walls 
covered with frescoes; then, led by guide, passed to 
the tower, climbing round and round, up the long 
stairway to the little prison where Savonarola spent 
the days of his imprisonment. Forty days between 
his tortures, and then his martyrdom! Breathless, 
but rewarded, I stood among the battlements at the 
top, seeing the fair city beneath me, seemingly all 
peaceful, only the hum of the business life reaching 
me from this historic square; a different scene from 
that of the twenty-third of May, 1498. Then this 
tower looked down upon a long, narrow platform 
stretching across the great piazza, a great heap of 
fuel, a throng of faces filled with curiosity and 
hatred and three men, degraded, insulted, led forth 
to die. ''Martyrs for liberty," "Apostles of Chris- 
tian morals," by some pronounced fanatics; but, 
not many years later, this very square heard the very 
thing Savonarola preached made a proclamation 
from this palace: "Christ the Redeemer was chosen 
King of Florence." 

After this day of great things, it was charming to 
seek the shops, to wander idly up and down the 
busy streets, under the archways, among the vi- 
vacious, interesting Italians, to gaze in windows 
which gave back to us Fra Angelico's Angels, the 
swathed infants of Sella Robbia, enticing us in and 
sending us out happy in our possession. 

Beautiful, fair Florence, what memories I have of 
thee! The walks by the Arno, over the Ponte Santa 
Trinita to Via Maggio, where the grandeur of the 



jFlorence 



263 



many dark, forbidding palaces suggested to my im- 
agination thrilling romances; or, going in the oppo- 
site direction, the church of Santa Maria Novella, 
Michael Angelo's "bride," with her Ghirlandajo fres- 
coes, and Cimabue's Madonna and Brunellesco's 
Crucifix. And then the church of SS. Annunciata, 
with its pretty, restful cloister, containing Del Sarto's 
fresco, the ''Madonna del Sacco," and the cloisters 
and cells of San Marco where Fra Angelico, Bar- 
tolomeo and Savonarola lived, thought and worked. 
Everywhere about were places of interest. But my 
days for Florence were gone. I saw but part of the 
treasures of this city, and that little was an inspira- 
tion which must make richer and better all lives 
who receive it. 

M. O. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 



IN ROME AGAIN. 

IF THE tyranny of ancient Rome was on the Pal- 
atine in the palaces of the Caesars, and its re- 
ligion on the Capitoline in the Temple of Jupiter, 
the heart of Rome, at least, was in the Forum Ro- 
manum. This triune force — Caesar, Jupiter and the 
''Senatus Populus Que Romanus" — was the power 
which built up the empire. After the imperial gran- 
deur reached its apex, life took on less sombre col- 
ors and then followed the plays at the theatres, the 
mirths of the baths, the cruelties in the Colosseum. 
The despots of the marble-crowned Palatine, the 
Pagan religions of the lofty temples, the eloquent 
orators and innumerable hangers-on of the Forum, 
the fashionable social and literary centres in the 
play-robms and at the baths, the games in the am- 
phitheatres: these constituted the whole of the activ- 
ity, energy, life of Rome, and to-day there clusters 
arotind their ruined sites whatever is splendid and 
sorrowful to the visitor. None of them can be omit- 
364 



1fn IRome Bgain 



265 



ted in a study of the city; beside them everything 
else is commonplace. 

The program of our second Roman visit in 1899 
may be thus briefly stated: 

First day: Morning — Vatican. Afternoon — Vat- 
ican, Pantheon, Church of St. John Lateran, Michael 
Angelo's "Moses," Church of the Capuchins, drive 
to the Pincian Hill. Second day: Morning — Pala- 
tine Hill and Palaces of the Caesars. Afternoon — 
The Capitoline Hill and Museum, the Roman 
Forum. Third day: Morning — Music at St. Peter's, 
reading of the Papal Jubilee Bull. Afternoon — Mau- 
soleum of Augustus C?esar, Pompey's Theatre, Poni- 
pey's Statue, Churches of S. Prudentia, S. Presseda,. 
S. Maria Maggiore and S. Clement. 

A comparison of the foregoing with the program 
named in Chapter IV will reveal omissions of some- 
interesting sights, but what we saw was seen well^ 
which is better than to have seen much more with 
far less understanding. 

I noticed two special facts which greatly inter- 
ested me in my fourth visit to this growing city. 
The first was the tremendous jumps forward which 
Rome has made as a modern metropolis. It is more 
observable on each recurring visit than any other 
one thing. Noble private dwellings of granite, well 
paved and perfectly clean streets, a municipal gov- 
ernment and police second to none elsewhere, and 
evidences of thrift, came in soon after the ingress 
of Italian unity and the egress of Papal sovereignty, 
and they came to stay. It is wonderful progress, and 
its culmination is still in the future. I look upon 
Rome as unequalled in its future outlook by any 
city within Catholic dominions. The second was. 



266 



3From Bmerica to tbc Oticnt 



the new discoveries being made, even this very year, 
in the Forum Romanum. The houses of the Vestal 
Virgins, the Regia of Caesar (i.e., Juhus Caesar's pub- 
lic and official and, it would seem, his private resi- 
dence), the site and surroundings of the Comitium 
and similar spots around which controversy so long 
centred, are now not only fully identified and 
thrown open to public inspection, but adjoining 
churches and dwellings contiguous to the Forum 
have been purchased by private benefaction and 
their sites are to be excavated, and so the area of this 
ancient meeting place of the people is to be widened. 

This Forum, the very heart of old Rome, so palpi- 
tating with interest, is too vast a subject to touch 
even lightly. How we enjoyed the hot afternoon in 
that uncovered space of ground scarcely larger in 
size than two or three city blocks, yet the focus of 
everything stirring in Roman history, cannot be told. 
Professor Reynaud did his best to bring back to life 
the very people who thronged there day after day 
during the centuries when it was the grandest meet- 
ing-spot on earth, and he made even the inanimate 
objects seem alive and full of speech. If one thing 
more than another could be suggested as most at- 
tractive to us, perhaps it was the ancient Rostra, 
where the orations of Cicero against Catiline and 
Verres, the best speeches of Julius Caesar, himself 
no mean orator before he took the field as a gen- 
eral, and the palliating address to the people and as- 
sassins of Caesar by Marc Antony, delivered over 
Caesar's dead body, were pronounced. Each great 
Roman pleader and orator, Cato, Caesar, Hor- 
tensius, Cicero, seemed to stand there pleading some 
great cause before the jury of the Roman Senate 



•ffn IRome Bgain 



267 



or the Roman people. There, in front of the Rostra, 
were the holes in which were fastened the beaks of 
the vessels captured in victorious naval combats, an 
inspiration to valor and to patriotism. Can one not 
hear on that platform still the silvery cadences, the 
round periods, the polished invectives of that mas- 
ter of all orators, as he calls to the bar the Praetor 
of Sicily and impeaches him in words memorable 
through all the ages! He had produced the proofs 
and now comes the climax. Hearken to him: 

name of Liberty, sweet to our ears! O rights 
of citizenship in which we glory! O laws of Por- 
cius and Sempronius! O privilege of the tribune, 
long and sorely regretted, and at last restored to the 
people of Rome. Has it all come to this, that a Ro- 
man citizen m a province of the Roman people, in a 
federal town, is to be bound and beaten with rods 
in the forum, by a man who only holds those rods and 
axes — those awful emblems — by the grace of the 
same people of Rome!" 

Who can wonder that Verres was dumb before 
such language and ignominiously fled from his ac- 
cuser. But alas, alas! Against that same Rostrum 
Antony nailed the dead head and hand of this one 
greatest orator of the ages and a wicked queen spat 
in his still face and pierced his inanimate tongue with 
a pin she had worn in her hair. It was the irony of 
fate, and Rome was never so great afterward. The 
downfall of Cicero marked the beginning of the de- 
struction of the best forces that were in the empire 
and the best wealth in the possession of the people. 

I think as comrades or as individuals we would 
find it difficult to separate what stirred within us 
the strongest attachments from what affected us 



268 



jfrom Bmerfca to tbe ©dent 



more lightly and interested us less deeply in our 
recurring visit to Rome. The fact is, to the lover of 
history every spot here is full of the intensest kind of 
memorable associations, and to him who visits this 
strange metropolis of ancient days again and again 
there is not a forum, nor an arch, nor a column, not 
a bit of peperino nor of travertine, which does not 
awaken new and unspeakable emotions. If we could 
only know all the history of this marble pillar or 
that frescoed wall, or of this deep-cut inscription or 
that mosaic floor! But we cannot. 

No one should omit, if he has not already seen it, 
to take the pains to see in its present position in the 
chamber of the King's Cabinet of Advisers in the 
Spada Palace the colossal statue of Pompey the 
Great: 

'* And thou, dread statue! yet existent In 
The austerest form of naked majesty; 
Thou who beheldest, 'mid the assassins' din, 

At thy bathed base the bloody Caesar lie, 
Folding his robe in dying dignity." 

Few statues in Rome are so well identified, for it 
was found, when search was expressly made for it, 
just in the spot where the historian Suetonius said it 
stood when Augustus Caesar had it removed from 
'Tompey's Senate House," after the conspirators 
had there stabbed Caesar to the death. The popu- 
lace were frantic with grief that the greatest chief- 
tain of his time had been cut down in the plentitude 
of his power and they burned down the Pompeian 
Curia, but the statue was unharmed and Augustus 
removed it to the spot where it came to light in 1553. 
It is a grand work. Roman sternness is enthroned 
on every line of the face. The right hand, extended 



irn IRome Bgain 



269 



outward, gives the figure a most commanding air, 
and the ball — the round world, as it is supposed to 
be — in the left hand, typifies the extent of his con- 
quests. As a relic of the most tragic scene in the 
history of the Eternal City prior to the days of the 
martyrdom of the Christians, it is of priceless inter- 
est. Nor must he miss the sitting figure of Moses, 
the lawgiver, the masterpiece of Michael Angelo in 
the Church of S. Pietro in Vincoli, which as a 
Christian church is believed to date back to 109 A. 
D. Pope Julius II., as if his remarkable deeds would 
not give him enough glory after death, sought fur- 
ther immortality in his tomb, and Angelo began to 
design that monument during the Pope's life on a 
scale almost matchless for its hugeness. Moses was 
to have been one of forty statues, of which four 
were completed. And here it stands, an incarnation 
of the master sculptor as much as it is a transcendent 
figure of the Hebrew lawgiver. Its long, flowing 
beard to the waist, its horned head and deep-set eyes, 
its awful solemnity and noble dignity, cannot fail 
to impress any lover of great art. Full of strength 
and power, of tenderness and sadness, its very con- 
trariety of expressions, as one gazes at it now from 
this side and now from that, stirs up the deepest re- 
ligious feelings. 

And, again, let him by all means examine those 
early Fourth Century mosaics in the Church of S. 
Pudenziana, representing Christ with his apostles 
and the reputed daughters of Pudens — Praxedis and 
Pudentiana. A comparison of these with the Ninth 
and Eleventh Century mosaics in other churches in 
the city will prove highly instructive, to say the 
least. And that Christian artists, so early as within 



270 jfrom Hmerfca to tbe ©tient 



three hundred years after the scene on Calvary, could 
construct such mosaics is at once a wonder and an 
inspiration to our faith. These men who lived so 
near to the tiames when the lives of the martyrs 
were being sown as seed to the Church had the most 
serious conceptions of 'The Face of the Christ/* 
but those conceptions were not of the horrible nor 
the unheroic: they were of the tender and sweet, the 
benevolent and calm. 

And the Church of S. Clement, whose basilican 
form is the most ancient and best preserved in 
Rome, with its three different edifices one above the 
other; with its first church built in the Fourth Cen- 
tury on walls of Republican times, and with early 
frescoes running over a period of seven centuries, 
should on no account be passed by. Whether or not 
the active fellow-laborer of Paul, Saint Clement, and 
the faithful Pudens, in whose house the Apostle Peter 
may have been entertained, lived on the sites where 
these two last mentioned churches are standing or 
not, the interiors are among the most quaint and 
solemn in Rome. 

The reading of the Papal bull by one of the Italian 
Cardinals (I did not get his name) was one of the 
surprises we had in store. Next year (1900) is the 
Jubilee Year and Leo XIII. had prepared the usual 
bull to be read to the people, proclaiming the fact. 
A bull is first read at St. Peter's, and the same after- 
noon it is similarly proclaimed in the vestibules of 
various other basilicas of the city. We happened 
upon the very day when for the first time in a quar- 
ter of a century a bull had been issued, and we saw 
the great bronze doors of St. Peter's opened for the 
occasion and actually passed through them. There 



irn 1Rome Bgain 



271 



was first High Mass, as it was Ascension Day and a 
holiday. This occurred about nine o'clock. At 
eleven o'clock there was a stirring of feet toward 
the vestibule, where several rows of seats had been 
placed in front of the central bronze doors for the 
accommodation of the various priests of the Cathe- 
dral. A number of cardinals appeared last. One of 
them stood up on a slight platform before a desk and 
read from a red morocco-bound copy of the sacred 
order. It contained thirteen engrossed pages, and 
two or three of them were skipped in the reading, 
which occupied full twenty minutes. Before the 
reading, the bells of St. Peter's rang out together, 
and again at its close. The audience independent of the 
priests numbered, perhaps, three or four hundred — 
all who could get within sound of the reader's voice. 
One clear "Viva Leo," or something like it, was 
heard from the lips of one of the audience at the con- 
clusion of the reading, but there were no other dem- 
onstrations. It was then, when all was finished and 
the robed priests returned into the Cathedral 
through the bronze doors, that we had the oppor- 
tunity to pass through them; whether they were kept 
open all the rest of the day or not I do not know. 

It is a little beyond the ordinary avenues of the 
hurried sightseer to turn out of the old historic paths 
to a plain and unconsecrated cemetery outside the 
walls to see who might be buried there. We did it, 
and it was strangely in contrast with the scene just 
beyond the high stone fence that separated this lone- 
ly and lovely spot from one of the ancient arterial 
roads leading into Rome. Along that way had trav- 
eled all who visited the capital from the port of Os- 
tia, and it was a way which led out to the finest 



272 afrom Bmerica to tbe ©dent 



basilica outside of Rome. The Pyramid of Caius 
Cestuis was a tomb, and it is as intact now as it 
was before the birth of Christ — the only pyramid in 
Italy. That Pyramid guards the cemetery as a sen- 
tinel of the Coesars. Do you re'member how in Shel- 
ley's "Adonais" he described this spot : 
*'A slop© of green a cess 
Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, 
A light of laughing' flowers along the grass is spread." 

Is it any wonder that on this very slope lies Shelley's 
buried heart? "Cor Cordium," is the record, "J^^y 
8, 1822: 

" ' Nothing of him that doth fade, 
But doth suffer a sea change 
Into something rich and strange.' " 

The grave of John Keats is within sight. The two 
poet-friends should have been side by side. Keat's 
death-date is February 24, 1821, and the words he de- 
sired engraved upon his tomb are these: ''Here lies 
one whose name is writ in water." The sculptors 
Gibson and Story, the author of "'Guesses at Truth," 
and John Addison Symonds are each to be found 
resting here under the cypress trees and the violets. 
A shady, solemn, quiet, beautiful spot it is, its oc- 
cupants in touch with this closing century, and its 
surroundings breathing the air of the classic ages 
that have preceded. 

We left Rome as one always leaves it, with feelings 
of regret. It is a mournful place if one's thoughts 
are given over to sympathy for the ruined, but a 
bright and eloquent abode if one mingles with his 
sad reflections the breath of the fresh atmosphere 
which surrounds the New Rome and the New Italy, 
of which Emanuel and Garibaldi were the fathers. 




ROME-ON THE VIA APPIA (Pages 46, 250). 

The view isl^y the Tomb of r0?cilia Matella; boys of the vicinity in 
foreground. 



•ffn IRome Bgaln 



273 



The railway station is so near to the old Servian 
wall that you can almost fling a stone at its blocks of 
reddish-brown stone, built long before Christ, as you 
pass out toward the Campagna; and, as you trav- 
erse this flat country, where desolation yet reigns, 
on the way to Naples, how one by one troop out to 
say goodbye those three stirring reminders of the 
Golden Age — the tall ilexes on the Palatine Hill, 
the circular Colosseum of Vespasian, and the broken 
"but beautiful Claudian Aqueduct! Then in the dis- 
tance are the tombs lining the Via Appia, and far- 
ther away Tivoli and the Sabine Hills, Frascati and 
the Alban mountains. Some of these spots lonely, 
all of them splendidly historic. And so Roma, vale! 

" The Nlobe of nations ! there she stands, 
Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe." 

Yet in her death, as in her life, she is a mistress of 
marvellous enticements. 

A. V. D. H. 



THE END. 



Itinerary of 1899 Journei^ 



Feb'y. 25. 
March 6. 
March 9. 

March 10. 
March 11. 

March 14. 
March 15. 

March 16. 
March 17. 



March 20. 
March 23. 

March 25, 

March 26. 
March 27. 

March 30. 
March 31. 

April I. 
April 4. 

April 5. 

April 6. 

April 7. 

April 8. 

April 9. 
April 10. 

April XI. 
April 12. 



Sailed from New York on S. S. Ems." 
Visited Gibraltar. 

Arrived at Naples, morning. (Hotel Parker.) 

Visited Pompeii. 
Excursion to Mount Vesuvius. 
At Naples ; evening train to Rome. (Hotel Ma- 

rini.) 

Evening train to Naples. 

From Naples to Brindisi ; sailed at midnight for 

Greece on S. S. " Poseidon." 
Stopped at St. Quara and Corfu. 
Arrived at Patras, morning. Train to Athens 

(stopping en rout« at Corinth). (Hotel des 

Etrangers.) 
Drive to Battlefield of Marathon. 
Sailed in afternoon from Piraeus for Alexandria 

on S. S. " Prince Abbas." 
Day at Alexandria. Sailed in evening on S. S. 

'*Tewfek Rabbani." 
Day at Port Said. 

Arrived at Jaffa, morning ; afternoon train to 

Jerusalem. (Grand Hotel.) 
Excursion to Bethlehem. 

Carriage drive to Jericho, Dead Sea and Jordan » 

(Jordan Hotel.) 
Returned to Jerusalem. 
Camping tour to Turmus Aya. 
Camping tour to Nablous. 
Camping tour to Jenin. 
Camping tour to Nazareth. 
Camping tour to Sea of Galilee. 
Camping tour to Nazareth. 

Camping tour to Haifa ; sailed in evening for 

Beirut on S. S. " Bakilea." 
Arrived at Beirut, morning. (Hotel d'Orient.) 
By railway from Beirut to Damascus. (Hotel 

Besraoni.) 

(275) 



276 irtinerari5— ContinueD 



April 14. Excursion to Baalbek. (Hotel Victoria.) 
April 15. Returned to Beirut. 

April 17. Excursion to Dog River. Sailed in evening for 

Port Said on S. S. Congo." 
April 18. In Harbor of Jaffa. 

April 19. Arrived at Port Said; train to Cairo. (Hotel du 
Nil ) 

April 21. Excursion to Heliopolis. 
April 22. Excursion to Pyramids. 

April 25. Excursion to ancient Memphis and Srakkara. 
April 2Q. By railway to Alexandria ; sailed oil S. S. ^'Both- 
nia " for Venice. 

May 3. Arrived at Venice, morning. (Hotel Milano.) 

May 6. By railway to Florence. (Hotel Grande Bretagne.) 

May 8. By railway, evening, to Rome. (Hotel Marlni.) 

May II. By railway, evening, to Naples^ (Hotel Parker.) 

May 12. Sailed in afternoon for America on S. S. "Aller." 

May 24. Arrived in New York city, morning. 



INDEX 



Aah-Hotep, queen, 231 
Abeiah, 133 

Acker, Mr. Pinley, 29, 53, 93, 
202, 217, 225, viii. 
Mrs. Finley, viii. 
Adullam. cave of, 99 
Ain El Seeleh, 131 
Ajalon, 78 

Alexandria, harbor of, 74 
park of Nubar Pasha, 74 
Pompey's pillar, 74 

Apostles' fountain, 108 

Arab music, 223 

Athens, approach to, 54 
Acropolis, 62, 66 
burial ground, 62, 68 
Erectheum. 63, 64 
Hadrian's g-ate, 60 
hotel des Etranges, 59 
Lycabettus, 66 
Mars Hill, 64, 66 
monument of Lysicrates, 
60 

Nike Apteros, 63 

Parthenon, 63, 64 

place of tripod, 61 

Pnyx, 65, 66 

prison of Socrates, 61 

Propylaea, 63, 66 

Roman theatre, 61 

Stadium, 60 

statue of Minerva, 64 

temple of Jupiter, 60 

temple of the Winds, 62 

Theseum, 62 
Azores, 13 
Baalbek, 174 

approach to, 173 

hotel Victoria, 174 

temples of, 174, 178 
Babylon (Cairo), 191 
Bakshish, 24, 90, 220 
Barada, 173 

Barry, Mrs. Frances H., 
viii. 

Beatitudes, mount of, 147 
Bedouins, festival of, 218 

near Tiberias, 148 
Bedresheyn, 245 
Beersheba, 77 
Beirut, 164 

Sunday at, 179 

river, 181 
Belbes, 188 
Bethany, 83, 102, 108 
Bethel, 115, 116 ,117 
Bethlehem, 95 

church of Nativity, 98 



Bethlehem, shopping at, 99 

tomb of St. Jerome, 98 

well of, 99 
Bethsaida, 151 
Cairo, 185 

bazaars of, 196 

called Babylon, 191 

general sights in, 193 

Gizeh museum, 198 

hotels of, 192 

minarets and prayers, 197 

narrow lanes in, 197 

native cafes, 195 

native costumes, 195 

Nile at, 201 

outrunners, 194 

streets of, 192 

university of, 198 
Calvary, 84, 91, 113 

garden of, 96 
Camping Tour, 

first day, 109 

second day, 122 

third day, 127 

fourth day, 135 

fifth day, 144 

sixth day, 155 

seventh day, 160 
Cana, 145, 154, 158 
Capernaum, 151, 152 
Carmel, Mt., 77, 80, 157 158, 
161 

monastery on, 162 
Cheeps, 210 

Chephren, king, statues of, 
230 

Cherith, 103 

Colt, Miss Ellen, 67, 171, 

255, viii 
Corinth, 57 
Corcyra 54 
Crete, 73 

Dahshur, pyramids of, 241, 
244 

Damascus, 164 
bazaars of, 165 
great mosque, 168 
hotel Besraoni, 165 
house of Ananias, 169 
Paul's place of escape, 170 
private house in, 169 
railway to, 164 
street called Straight, 170 
street sights in, 166 
tomb of Saladin, 169 
Daphne convent of, 69 
Davis, Rev. T. E., 121, 134, 
143, viii. 



(277) 



278 



Ifn&ci— ContfnueD 



Dead Sea. 83, 103, 105 
Dog" River inscriptions 182 
Dothan, 132 

Ebal, mount, 126, 128, "29, 

159 
Edom 103 
Egypt, 185 

approach to, 185 

Virgin's tree, 204 

weather in, 187 
Ekron, 78 
El Azarieh. 83 
Eleusis, 66, 68 

bay of. 57, 69 

mysteries of, 70 
El-Kantara, 185 
Elijah, grotto of. 162 
Engannim, 135 
Ephrath 97 
Er-Ram, 116 
Esdraelon, 80, 135, 161 
Estil,, Mr. Mulford, viii. 
Ewing, Hon, John K., viii. 

Hon. Nathaniel, viii. 
Florence, 256 

approach to, 256 

Cascine, 259 

Cathedral. 261 

hotel Cavour, 257 

Medici mausoleum, 260 

memories of, 262 

Michael Angelo's home, 
260 

Palazzo Vecchio, 261 
picture galleries, 257 
Protestant cemetery, 258 
tombs of, 260 
view of Apennines, 259 

Flowers, hues of, 146 

Foster Mrs. Fannie G., 71, 
100, viii 

Foster. Miss Jennie G., 163 

Gadara, 152 

Galilee, sea of, 144, 148 

boats on, 150 

catching fish on. 152 

final view of, 153 

view from, 151 
Gath-Hepher, 145 
Gehinnom, valley of, 81 
Gennesaret, 152 
George. King-, 73 
Gerizim. rnount. 126, 128, 

129 
Gezer, 78 
Gibeah, 116 
Gibraltar. 13 
Gideon's spring", 157 
Gilboa, 136, 158 
Gilead, 157 
Gilgal, 104 



Gizeh, museum, 198. 211, 227 
Good Samaritan inn, 103 
Goshen, land of. 184 

fertility of, 189 
Gulf of ^gina, 66 
Haifa. 161 

Hassan, marriage of, 218 
Hiayes, Miss Hannah D., 18, 
viii. 

Miss Lydia K.,.viii. 
Miss Mary, viii, 
Hebron, 95 
Heliopolis, 184, 191 

(See On). 
Hermon. Mt., 80, 138, 157 

Little, 137 
Honeyman, A. V. D., 15, 47, 
79. 154, 191, 219, 236, 243, 
273 

Horns of Hattin, 147 
Howara, 123 

Hutcheson. Helen T., 214 
Hut ton. Rev. Dr. Mancius 
H., 126, 178, viii. 

Mrs. Mary E,, 183, viii. 
Hymettus, 66 
Ismailia, 186 
Ismail, Khedive. 228 
Jabbok, 103, 132 
Jacob's well, 124 
Jaffa, 75, 80 

hotel du Pare. 76 

house of Simon the Taa- 
ner, 76 

landing at, 75 
Jehosaphat, gorge of, 81 
Jenin, 133, 155 
Jeremiah, grotto of. 113 
Jericho, 103 

ancient Jericho, 103 

Cherith, 106 

hotel du Pare, 104 

return journey from. 106 
Jerusalem, 79 

Calvary. 84, 91 

Christian street. 88 

Coenaculum, 94 

costumes of people, 91 

Damascus g^ate, 84 

David street, 88 

David's tower. 79 

donkeys in, 89 

Golden gate, 94 

Good Friday in, 92 

gorge of Jehosaphat, 81 

grain market, 89 

hill of Offense, 81 

Holy Sepulchre. 84, 91 

hotel Grand, 79 

house of Caiphas. 94 

Jew's wailing place, 94 



IfnDei— GontinueD 



279 



Jerusalem, methods of trad- 
ing, 87 

mountains round about, 

80, 81 
Mount Moriah, 94 
of Evil Counsel. 81 
of Olives, 81, 82 
Mosque of Omar, 94 
pool of Bethesda, 94 

of Hezekiah, 94 
shops in, 87 
Solomon's mines, 96 

stables, 94 
starting- north from, 109 
streets of. 86, 87 
valley of Hinnom, 81 
Via Dolorosa, 91 
Jezreel, plain of, 136. 138, 

139, 155 
John, the steward, 133 
Jordan, river, 83 

visit to, 101 
Joseph's tomb, 124 

well, 132 
Karam, the steward, 122 
Khedive's residence, 204 
Kidron, 81. 82 
Kiehle. Rev. Dr. A. A.. 108 
Kip, Rev. Dr. Leonard W., 
viii. 

Mrs. Leonard W., viii. 
Latron, 78 

Lilies of the field, 102 
Luxor, 205 
Magdala, 150, 152 
Marathon, 65 
lion of, 251 
Mallakah-Zahleh. 173 
Medum, 229 

Memphis, ancient. 237, 24i 
Meneptah, stele of, 230 
Meri, tomb of, 246 
Merrill, Dr. Selah B., 04 
Mlzpeh, 116 
Moab. 83, 103, 157 
Moatsos, Mr,, 59 
Moses, place of finding of, 
228 

Mummies royal, 231 
Music, Arab, 223 
Nablous, 124, 126, 127, 128 
Naboth, vineyard of, 136 
Nahr-El-Kelb, 180 
Nain, 137 
Naples. 15, 16 

Nazareth, departure from, 160 
English orphanage, 156 
famous painting at. 142 
first view of, 140 
leaving, 145 
Sunday in, 155 



Nazareth, traditional sites 
of, 141 

view from, 157 
Nebo, 83, 103 
Nefert, princess, 229 
Nile, at Cairo, 201 

journey on ,239 

uses of, 202 

views of. 211, 212 

water of 202 
Noph, 237' 

Nssaire, Jameel H., 113 
Olga. Queen, 73 
Olives, mount of, 81, 82. 84. 
108 

Oiler, Miss May 263, viii. 
On, 184 

obelisk of, 205 

ostrich farm near 209 

visit to, 203 

when settled, 208 
Ostrich Farm, 209 
Paden Aram, 118 
Palais Taufik, 204 
Palanquin, the, 112 
Patras, 56 
Paul at Corinth, 57 
Pentelicus, 66 

Pharoahs, mummies of. 231 
resting place of, 226 

Philistines, land of, 76 

Piraeus 73 

Pisgah,' 103 

Pithom, 188 

Pluto, sanctuary of, 71 

Pompeii. 19 

Ponte Delgade, 13 

Port Said, 74, 185, 186 

Pompeii, 
bake shop, 20 
baths, 21 

catastrophe of, A. D., 79, 22 
forum. 20 

public fountains, 19 
restoration, 29 
streets, 19 
theatre, 21 
Pyramids, appearance of, 
212 

builder of, 213 
Dahshur, 241 
Great, 191, 208, 240 
poem concerning, 214 
size of, 210 
story of, 213 
Sakkarah, 245. 246 
Step, 244 
Rachel, tomb of, 96 
Ra Hotep, prince, 229 
Ramah. 116 
Rameses II., 198 



28o 



irn&ex— Continued 



Rameses II., anecdote con- 
cerning-. 241 

mummy of. 233 

statues of, 241 
Ramleh, 78 

Reynoud, Professor, 34 

Rheitoi, lakes of. 69 

Richards, Rev. Dr. William 
R., 58, 85, 159, 247, viii. 

Robbers' glen, 119 

Rodman, Rev, Erskine M., 
viii. 

Rome. 30 
arch of Drusus, 46 
baths of Caracalla, 46 
castle of St. Angelo, 40 
catacombs, 46 
church of S. Clement, 270 
church of S. Pudenziana, 
269 

Circus Maxentius, 46 
Claudian aqueduct, 47 
Colosseum, 43, 48 
column of Aurelius, 42 
first approach, 30 
forum Romanum, 266 
fountains of Trevi, 47 
Ghetto, 41 
hotel Marini, 34 
house of the Vestal Vir- 
gins, 266 
Humbert, King, 38 
Janiculum hill, 40 
Julius Caesar's g-ardens 41 

house, 266 
King of Italy, 38 
leaving Rome, 273 
Marguerite, Queen, 38 
mass at St. Peter" s, 35. 
oration of Cicero, 267 
Paul before Caesar, 45 
Pincian Hill, 39 
Pompey's theatre, 41 
Porta Capena, 44 
Porto del Popolo, 42 
Protestant cemetery, 271 
pyramid of Caius Cestius, 
272 

reading- Papal Bull, 270 

Reynaud Professor, 34 

Rostra, 266 

Seven Hills, 43 

Shelley 'e and Keats' s 

graves, 272 
statue of Moses, 269 

Pompey the Great, 268 
St. Peter's, 40 

dome, 32 
tomb of Caecil'ia Matella, 46 

of Scipio, 46 
Via Appia, 39. 44 



Sakkara, 245, 246 
Salamis, 66 

bay of, 71 
Samaria 125, 130, 157 
San Miguel, 13 
Sannin, 180 
Santa Quarenta, 54 
Saronic gulf, 57 
Sayce, Professor, 200 
Scopus, mount, 113. 115 
Sebastiyeh, 130, 131 
Seti I., mummy of, 232 
Sharon, plain of, 77 

rose of 77 
Shechem, 127 
ShiLoh, 104 
Shunem, 137, 155 
Sinjil, 123 

Sphinx, the. 215, 216 
Suez canal, 185, 187 
Sweetwater canal, 188 
Sychar, 124 

Tabor, Mt., 138, 147 157 
Tadros, D. N., 74, 111, 127. 

140, 241. 
Tanis. 184, 189 
Tell-El-Kebir, 188, 190 
Temptation, mount of. 104 
Tiberias, city of, 149, 150, 

153 

lake of, 148 
Tih, statue of, 230 

tomb of, 244 
Turmus Aya, 120, 122, 12a 
Venice, approach to, 248 

arsenal 251 

bridge 'of Sighs, 251 

Castelar on, 31 

church of Frari, 255 

Doges palace, 250 

famous painters of, 250, 
254 

festal scene at, 253 

gondolas, 252 

Grand canal, 252 

lace makers, 253 

public g-ardens, 248, 252 

Rialto, 252 

St. Mark's campanile, 250 

cathedral. 249 

square, 249 
Vesuvius, Mt., 16, 22 
ascent of, 24, 27 
catastrophe of, A. D., 79, 

22 

Wady Bet Imrin, 130 

El-Haramiyeh. 119 
Wedding-, Bedouin, 218 
Wilhelm Emperor, 101 
Zakazik, 188, 190 
Zerein, 136