Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/journeyingsinoldOOhott < * S: • ■ • ' i KV • ^ ' r' ■f"' . . •t / ^ TTT JOURNEYINGS — IN — THE OLD WOELD; / — OR, — Europe, Palestine, and E^ypt, EMBRACING Ireland, Scotland, England, France, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Syria, The Holy Land, and Egypt, together with many Cities and Other Places Kenowned in Sacred and Profane History, with Personal Observations and Incidents, and the Results of the Latest Explorations in Bible Lands, anb Biier 100 CijoitB SUustratbits. BY / JAMES W/HOTT, D. D., Editok Religious Telescope. INTRODUCTION BY BENJ. ST. JAMES FRY, D. D., Editor Centbal Christian Advocate. DAYTON, OHIO: United Brethren Publishing House. 1884. . Copyright, 1884, By Rev. W. J. Shuey, TO THE MANY VERY DEAR FEIEXDS WITH W'HOM IT HAS PLEASED OUR LOVING LORD IN HIS ABUNDANT MERCY TO BLESS THE tlFE-JOURNEYlNGS OF HIS UNWORTHY SERVANT, AND TO ALL WHO HAVE EXPERIENCED LIKE INTEREST IN THE PAST AND PRESENT CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE AND THE EXPLORATION AND DISCOVERIES IN BIBLE LANDS, THIS VOLUME IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THE iiUTHOR, IN THE LOVE OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST, TO WHOM BE ALL GLORY THROUGHOUT ALL AGES. PREFACE. most distinguished Christian thinker and orator says, “Thera are now no hermit nations.” The developments of Chris- tianity in the nineteenth century have taught the world the truthfulness and meaning of the brotherhood of man. The facil- ities of inter-communication have made foreign nations our neigh- bors. Investigations of the philosophy of history have made our age to look wonderingly back upon the ages and civilizations from which our civilization has sprung. We have a ceaseless and growing interest in the history of nations and the biography of mighty men. The na- tions that were have pa.ssed from their career of glory. The people who press the soil of countries hallowed by their graves are working out, with us, the old problems of the world’s history by new methods. Thus it becomes us to place the past and present side by side. It is ex- ceedingly interesting and profitable for one to do so by personal travel, and by visitation of the scenes where the first links which entered into the endless chain of history were forged. It is only less interesting and instructive in our own quiet home to follow others in their journey- ings, while we are spared the toil and fatigue of foreign travel. The desire to afford others the pleasure and profit of such a pursuit has produced this volume. The author of these pages did not travel as a specialist, — for trav- eling is not his profession, — nor with a view of studying the philosophy of historic events. He went abroad as a Christian to meet the duties assigned him as a member of a Christian society. In Ireland, Scotland, England, and continental Europe, he traveled with an open eye, inquis- itive mind, and the susceptible heart of an American. The writer has not aimed merely to tell a pleasing story, but to so connect historic fact and incident with places visited, and with the present appearances and conditions of these scenes, as to make his V VI PREFACE. book really worth reading. Tins plan has been followed through the several pjirts of the book. During the writer’s journeyings in the Holy Land, it was his custom before visiting a place to read what- ever portions of the Bible, in any direct way, stand associated with that particular locality. The reading was repeated when on the ground and the passages marked, as given in this work. The design of the book is to thus locate and connect, in the mind, Bible events and holy teachings with places, rivers, lakes, mountains, hills, plains, and valleys that are still to be looked upon by the traveler in Bible lands. In the preparation of the first, second, and third parts of the book the writer most freely acknowledges his indebtedness to various hand- books for travelers, histories, biographies, and many poetical works, which were read and studied to great profit. Many historic facts were suggested by these books, without which a journey would be tedious and barren in these lands. The writer relied largely upon them for measurements and dates; but when found inaccurate, as thoroughly tested by standard authorities, they have been departed from. A like debt is due to many monuments and slabs, from which inscriptions were copied by the writer’s own hand. The })reparation of the pages describing Syria, the Holy Land, and Egypt has employed the writer’s closest attention for many months. No claim is laid to discovery or exploration by the author. He visited in all parts of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt; and what others have seen or can see in the course of travel, he saw. It is a matter of painful regret that the lands of the Bible should remain to this day in the j)Ossession of such rude, superstitious, and semi-civilized j)eople as we have described in these pages. It is mar- velously strange to find the customs of thousands of years ago still existing and reproducing themselves, as generation follows generation, in these .sacred Bible lands. To-day the traveler not only looks upon the same places mentioned in the Bible, but finds all about him, every hour, habits, customs, and scenes which place him amid the very echoes and memories of the ancient and saintly days. It is painful to look upon the land in its desolation, with its once mighty cities sleeping in ruins and dust, and its hills and valleys barren and naked. But it is not entirely without compensation, for it has pleased God to allow the Holy Land to thus lie, the ruin of its former self and glory. No improvements of progressive civilization have touched the hills and valleys and cities of these countries for two thousand years. To-day we look upon the lands of the Bible as the companion-book to the inspired record. The oldest and only history coming from the ages so PREFACE. vii remote has its witnesses in rocks and rivers, in hills and plains, as well as in the excavated ruins of cities of Bible renown. Blind superstition and fanaticism have been the guardian of the most interesting treas- ures of antiquity known to the Christian world. Great progress has been made in archaeology in the last fifty years. The first scientific explorer to enter Palestine was Dr. Edward Robin- son, who entered the Holy Land in 1838, and gave the world vast results from his toil. Ten years later Lieutenant Lynch, of America, did much to throw light upon the character of the Sea of Galilee, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea. He, with a dozen associates from America, launched two boats on the Sea of Galilee in April, 1848, and within eight days passed down the Jordan into the Dead Sea. His measure- ments and levels have been depended upon almost to the present time as the most valuable and reliable. Dr. J. T. Barclay, a missionary at Jerusalem, published a work of great value in 1857, and a year later Dr. William Thompson, a missionary at Sidon and Beyroot, published “Ihe Land and the Book.” These were valuable publications. Dr. Thompson’s improved work, “Southern Palestine,” appeared from the press in 1880, and “ Central Palestine” in 1882. About 1865 the Eng- lish Exploration Society was organized, and began surveys of the Holy Land west of the Jordan, which it completed several years ago. Much valuable information respecting the topography of the Holy Land and manners and customs of the people was thus secured. We have had occasion to quote frequently from Lieutenant Cornier, who, with other able men, wiis employed by this society. About fourteen years ago an American Palestine exploration society was organized with a view to explore minutely the country east of the Jordan ; but no great results have yet been .secured, on account of a lack of funds to prosecute the work. Within the last two years a popular and elaborate work called “Picturesque Palestine,” edited by Colonel Wilson, has been issued, which is the most fully illustrated work on Palestine published in Amer- ica. Beside these valuable works, many other books on Palestine and Egypt have been published that have great merit. Rev. J. W. McGar- vey, of Lexington, Kentucky, published, a few years ago, one of the best of these books, called “ Lands of the Bible.” To all of these books mentioned, and many others, the author acknowledges his great indebtedness; and also to Baedeker’s “ Palestine and Syria,” published in English, in London, as a hand-book for travelers. A number of other books were helpful in the preparation of the chapters on the land of the Nile. In giving measurements, distances, and population of towns in Syria PREFACE. viii and Palestine, the author has usually followed Baedeker, but sometimea Lynch, and sometimes Conder, as one or another seemed most reliable. Tlie tine colored maps used are the best to be found in this country, and are as accurate as can now be secured. Their value will readily ap- pear to the reader. The illustrations have been selected with great care, and secured at material cost. Tliey are reliable as faithful rej)- resentations, secured originally from photographs. The author has constantly sought to check any exuberance of spirit which leads sometimes to too fanciful descriptions. While he has sometimes allowed the reader to interpret the land by looking through his intense emotions, he has from first to last steadily aimed to put notliing in these pages which is not faithful and true. The preparation of these pages has been a pleasant task. Should they prove a source of real pleasure and profit to the reader, and serve to introduce him to a better acquaintance with tho.se parts of our globe to which all Christian hearts turn with ever-increasing delight, and should they cheer, with a few beams of pure sunshine, fellow-pilgrims in their journeyings to the good land in the skies, the labor of the author will have been abundantly rewarded. J. W. Hott. Dayton, Ohio, June 1, 1884. CONTENTS. PART FIRST. THE EMERALD ISLE. CHAPTEU I. Preparation for the Journey -Good-by — On the Steamer— Leaving the Harbor — Leaving the Pilot— Sea-Sickness — Fog — The Ocean — Vessels at a Distance — Burial at Sea — Inhabitants of the Deep — The Vessel — Bill of Fare 21 CHAPTER II. Sighting Land — Coast of Ireland — Passing the Custom-House — Emerald Isle — St. Patrick — Names of Company — Irish Jaunt- ing-Car — Blarney Castle — Kissing the Blarney-Stone — tlty of Cork — Bells of Shandoii 31 CHAPTER III. Reign of Terror — Beggars — Glengariff— Little Tilings — Frances Clare — Lakes of Killarney— Gap of Dunloe — Innisfallen — Old Abbeys — Irisli Wit— Kildare Fame — The Uuextinguishable Fire 38 CHAPTER IV. Dublin — Parliament House — Dublin University— Statue of Gold- smith — Thomas Moore — Burke — William — Nelson — Castle — St. Patrick’s Cathedral — Swift — Whately — Pnenix Park — Tomb of O’Connell — Harvests — Lough Erne — Round Towers — Ro- mances 45 CHAPTER V. Londonderry — Its Siege — James II. — William of Orange — Rev. George Walker, Commander — His Monument — Battle of the Bourne — Portrush — Dr. Clarke’s Birthplace — A Tribute— Giant’s Causeway — Belfast — The Irish Problem — Condition of the Peo- ple — Ignorance — Priestcraft — Landlordism — No Encourage- ment to Labor — Peat — Minerals — Parnell and the Agitation.... 50 2 coy TESTS. PART SECOND. SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. CHAPTER I. Scotland — Size — Climate — North Channel — Greenock — Grave of “ Highland Mary” — Glasgow — Populatio!i— Statues — Residences —First Steamer, the “Comet” — The Clyde — Cathedral — Visit to Aj’r — Burns’ Character, 'Writings, Home, and Relatives 59 CH.\PTER II. Highlands of Scotland — Lake Katrine — Sterling — The Castle — Bannockburn Battle-field — Robert the Bruce — Knox’s Old Pul- pit— Murder of Earl of Douglas — Virgin Martyrs — The Cathe- dral— Guild Hall — Burj-iug the Dead — Scottish Character — Wit 66 CHAPTER III. Edinburgh — Monuments — Edinburgh Castle — Room of ^lary — Holyrood Palace — Murder of Rizzio — Home of Knox — Grave of Knox — His Cliaracter — Martyrs — Abbotsford — Labors of Scott — Vale of the Tweed — Scott’s Grave at Dryburg Abbey — Melrose Abbey — Farewell to Scotland 74 CHAPTER IV. Entering London — Population of London — Cost of its Support — Streets — Billingsgate — Cliaritj' — Parliament Building — Queen’s Robing-Room — I’rinee’s Chamber — Portraits — Henry and his Wives — House of Lords — House of Commons — Wesiminster Hall — Cromwell, Lord Protector — St. Margaret’s Chapel — Sir Walter Raleigh — Canon Farrar 85 CHAPTER V. Westminster Abbey — Its Location — History — First Impressions — Monumental Statues; Pitt, Wilberforce, Weslej', Livingston, and others — Poets’ Corner — Tombs of Chancer, Shakespeare, Campbell, Milton, and others — Through the Tombs of the Kings and Queens — Stanley — Coronation Chair — Stone of Scone Superstitious Legend — Religious Services — Jerusalem Chamber.. 93 CHAPTER VI. Travel in London — Hansoms — Railways — Tramways — The Thames —Lambeth Palace— Prison of Wycliffe— Blackfriars Bridge and Monastery — Divorce of Henry VIII. from Catherine of Aragon CONTEMS, 3 b3' Wolsey and Cainpeggio — London Tower — Crown-Jewels — Tower Green — Saddest Spot on the Globe — Beheading of Lady Jane Grey and Anne Bolej’n — St. Paul’s Cathedral — An Inci- dent — Whispering Gallerj- — Hyde Park — Museums — Spurgeon — Rowland Hill’s Chapel — Newman Hall 104 CHAPTER VII. Ecumenical Conference — Churches Represented — United Brethren in the Conference — Opening Service — Entertainments — Lord Maj’or of Loudon — Order of Exercises — Results of the Con- ference 114 CHAPTER VIII. London from tli.e Parliament Tower — Smithfleld — City Road Chapel — Grave of Weslej’ — Benson — Watson — Clarke — Newton — Bun- hill-Fields — Susannah Weslej- — Tomb of Burder — Owen^ — Watts — Be Foe — Bunj’an — A Reverie 125 PART THIRD. FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. CHAPTER I. The English Channel — Paris — Statuaiw — -Men and Women — Church of the Madeleine — .\griculture — The Alps — Mont Cenis Tunnel — Italian Skies and Landscapes — Mountains Terraced — ^St. Michele dela Chiusa — Turin — Two Incidents — The Waldenses — Pisa — The Cathedral — Campo Santo — Leaning Tower — Journey to Florence 134 CHAPTER II. Florence — View of the Citj' — Home of Vespucci — Haute — Savon- arola— Uffizi Gallery — Portrait of Raphael — Baptistery — Inci- dents— Piazza — St. Croce — Tomb of Angelo — Galileo — He Medici — Field of Art — Cathedral 146 CHAPTER III. Milan — Cathedral of Milan — View from the Tower — Venice — People — Incident of Fashion — Gondolas — Skill in Rowing — History — Church of St. Mark — Ashes of St. Mark — Horses of Venice — The Piazza of St. Mark — Pigeons— Palace of the Doges — Bridge of Sighs — Churches — Venetian Art — Paintings — Titian’s Last Work — Works of the Masters — The Campanile — Sunset from the Campanile — A Beautiful Lesson of Glory and Hope 153 4 CO^TLyTS. CHAPTER IV. From Florence to Rome — Rural Scenery" — Valley of the Tiber — Seven Hills of Rome — History of Rome — Population — People — Sabbath in Rome — Ruins of Rome — Baths of Titus — Palace of Nero — Trial of Paul — Roman Forum — An Incident — Mam- ertine Prison — Arch of Titus — Arch of Constantine — Forum of Trajan — Tomb of Trajan — Palace of Caligula — Baths of Diocletian and Caracalla — Royal Palace — Colosseum 165 CHAPTER V. Walls of Rome — Priests — Monks — Orders — St. Pietro in Vincoli — Statue of Moses, by Michael Angelo — An Incident— Pantb.eon — Tomb of Raphael — Roman Art — Sistine Chapel — Frescoes of Michael Angelo — -Vatican — Transfiguration — Church of St. Peter — Pilate’s Stairs — Chapel of St. Paul — Tomb of Paul — Catacombs — Persecuted Christians — Pagan Toml) — Bessons from the Catacombs 175 CHAPTER VI. Paul in Rome — A Roman Citizen — Epistle to the Romans — At Puteoli — I’aul’s Hired House — Dwellings of Jews — The Appian Wa3" — Footprints of Christ — Paul’s First View of Rome — His Epistles — Success of His Ministry — Two Inciflents — Paul’s Associates at Rome — Reference to His Imprisonment — Lessons from our Sorrows 183 CH.APTER VII. Naples — Scenes in Naples — Men^ — Women — Donkej’s — Going to Market — Making Macaroni — Pompeii — Historj' — Destruction — Long Sleep — Excursion — Streets — Character of the People Lessons — Vesuvius — Various Eruptions — Railwaj' — Ascend- ing Vesuvius — Terror of the Mountain 194 CHAPTER VIII. Leaving Italy — Differences of Customs — Southern ItaH’ — Its Ap- pearance—Products — Canosa —The Battle-field of Hannibal — Storm on the Adriatic — Bible Descriptions — Corfu — Greek Clergy — The People — Our Palestine Company — Scene on Ship- board— Mohammedans at Prayer — Barren Hills of Greece — Dr. Schliemann — His Life — Mrs. Schliemann — Piraeus City of Plato CHAPTER IX. Athens — Early History — Location — Surrounding Mountains — Hy- mettus — Pentelicus — Aigaleos — Lj'cabettus — Pass of Daphne — Sacred Way — Temple of Ceres- Eleusis — Worship of Ceres CONTEXTS. o — Modern Atliens — Athenians — Greek Churches — Ancient Ath- ens— The Acropolis — The Parthenon — Erectheuni — Statue of Minerva — Propv'ltea — Temple of Wingless Victor\' — Temple of Jupiter — Temple of Theseus — Pnix — Story of Demosthenes — Odeum of Ilerodes — Theater of Bacchus — Stadium — Agora — Mars’ Hill — Temple of Mars — Paul with the Xew Pliilosophy — On Mars’ Hill — ^Surrouudings — The Discourse — I^caving Athens 211 CHAPTER X. Leaving Greece — The Hellespont — Quarantine — Sea of Marmora — Mixed Multitude — Dr. .S. F. Smith — An Incident — Constan- tinople— Ijocation — Histor3’ — Sultan’s Harem — Stamboul — Buriiil Scenes — Ancient Wall — Mohammedan Superstition — Dogs 227 CHAPTER XI. Constantinople — Head-Dress — Carriers — Streets — Houses — Mosques — St. Sophia — Calling the Faithful to Prayer — Hours of Praj^er — Incident — Mohammedan Worship — Women Outside — Ba- zaars— Interpreters — Trip to the Black Sea — The Bosporus — Bible-House — Robert College — Girls’ Home-School — Plea for Womanhood 235 CHAPTER XII, "Voyaging in the levant — Oriental Travelers — Mohammedans at Prayer — From Constantinople to Smv’rua — Plains of Troy — Paul’s Vision at Troas — Mitjdene — Sm3’rna — Population — Mes- sage from the Lord — Pol3’carp 247 CHAPTER XIII. Ephesus — Distaifce from Smyrna — Passing Scenes — Flocks — Car- avans of Camels — Tents of Kedar — Site of Ephesus — A City of Ruins— Histoiy of Ephesus — Temple of Diana — Eigl)t Tem- ples in Ruins — Paul at Ephesus — A polios — Aquila and Priscilla — Beasts at Ephesus — In the Theater — Address to the Elders of the Ephesian Church — Ejnstle to the Ephesians — Home of John — Timoth3'^ — Ruins 253 CHAPTER XIV. Distances in the Great Sea — Chios — Samos — Patmos — A’ision of the Revelator — The Echo of Patmos — Coos — Rhodes — Cyprus — Limersol — Larnica — Salamis — Paul and Barnabas on Cyprus — Witnesses 263 6 COMMENTS. PART FOURTH. THE HOLY LAND. CHAPTER I. Location of Palestine — How to Reach It — First View of the Holy Land — Long-Cherished Hopes Realized — Types in Mountains and Stone — History of the Land — Abraham’s Paj' — Original Occuijants — Their Location — Patriarchs — Possessions of Israel — Period of the Judges — Kings — Greeks and Romans — Times of Christ — Persian Conquests — Crusaders — Napoleon — Arabs —Present Government of Palestine 269 CHAPTER II. Time to Visit Palestine — Order of Travel in the Spring and Autumn — Sojourn in Tents — Number of American Visitors to Palestine — Syria — Bej'root — Hotel de Orient — History of Beyroot — Mis- sion-Work — Harbor — University — Printing - House — Cacti — Fountains — Scene at the Well — Eleazar — Maidens Drawing Water — Beggars — Poor — No Hospitals for the Destitute — Christ’s Contact with the Suffering — Bartimeus — .Shops — Prepa- ration for the Journey — >fethods of Travel — Damascus Road — Why no Roads Now — Ancient Chariots — Wagons of Joseph — Roman Roads — One Path Prepared for Pilgrims — Drawing for Horses — Grave of Kingsley’ 277 CHAPTER III. Leaving Beyroot — Loading the Beasts — Our Company — Modes of Accommodation — Dragoman — Crossing the Valley — Pines — Palms — Sy’camore - Tree — Vineyards — Lebanon Mountain — Ascending the Lebanon — Desolateness — Traveling Family — Outlook from Lebanon — Lofty Peaks — View of Hermon — Ancient Glory of Lebanon — Cedars — Toward our Tents 285 CHAPTER IV. First Night in Camp — Shtora — Heat and Cold — Caravans — Riding — Diligence — Valley of Coele Syria — Litany — Fields — View of Lebanon — Thrashing-Floor — Druses — Viney’ards — Streams of Water — Landmarks — Baalbec — Ruins — History — Baal Worship — Walls — Plateau — Great Stones — How Handled — Stone in Quarry — Entrance to Acropolis — An Incident — Tunnels — Tem- ple of Jupiter — Temple of the Sun^ — -Sabbath Services in Temple of the Sun 293 COXTENTS. 7 CHAPTER V. Leaving Baalbec — Last View — Valley of the Oiontes — Crossing Anti- Lebanon — Tomb of Noaii — Abaiia — Xaamati — View of Damascus — Surrounding Plain — Hotel — Eastern House — Population of Damascus — Houses of Damascus — Bricks — W alls — Court of Ori- ental House — Divan — Bazaars — Costumes 308 CHAPTER VI. Damascus — Trading — Camels — Ornaments — Mosques — Call of the Muezzin— Great Mosque — Basilica— Roman Temple — Tomb of the Head of John the Baptist — House of Rimmon— Altar of Ahaz — Trouble in the Mosque — The Massacre — Damascus of Antiquity — Visits of Abraham and Elisha— Conversion of Saul — Street Called Straight — House of Ananias — Old Wall — Eastern Gate 319 CHAPTER VII. Leaving Damascus — Whited .Sepulchers — Place of Saul’s Conversion — Tomb of Nimrod — Over the Hermon — Plowing — Height of Hermon — Character of Hermon — Bible Allusions — Rain-Storm — View from Hermon — Csesarea Philippi — History — Herod Philip — Salome — Banias of To-Da5' — Walls — Moats — Gate — Coins — Temple of Pan — Fortress — Christ at Caesarea — His Discourse — The Transfiguration — Raphael’s Transfiguration — The Lunatic Child — Woman Healed — Statue — Eusebius’ Record — A Figure... 328 CHAPTER VIII. Clouds Lifting — Leaving Banias — Dan — Golden Calf — Mound of the City — Samson’s Foxes — Hasliany — Derdarah — Mountains of Naphtali — Kedesh — City of Refuge — Home of Deborah — Shep- herd.s — Goats — Sheep — Bible Illustrations — Christ the Good Shep- herd— Sheep-fold — Dividing the Sheep from the Goals — Skin Bottles — Incidents — Women Carrying Water — Hagar — Fat of Sheep — Bedouin Cloaks — Camp at Merom — Battle-Scene of Joshua 339 CHAPTER IX. Leaving Merom— Gazelle — Stork — From Lake Huleh to Sea of Gal- ilee— Khan Yusef — View of the Sea of Galilee — The Scene of Jesus’ Labors — Chorazin — Capernaum — Ruins of a Synagogue — Christ’s Woe on the Cities — His Boundless Invitation 351 CHAPTER X. Leaving Capernaum — Safed — City on a Hill — Springs — Papyrus- Bethsaida — Bethsaida Julius — Plains of Gennesaret — Lessons of the Land of Gennesaret — Oleander Groves — Magdala— Tomb of 8 CONTENTS. Mary Magdalene — Ride along the Lake — Tiberias — Bed-sick — Home of Herod — Iniquiij' of the Palace — City of Jewish Honor — Mishna — Ancient City — View of llie Sea — Size of the Sea of Galilee — Storms — Mountains Around the Lake — Sleep Place — Bath in the Sea — fishes — Leaving Tiberias — Last View of the Sea of Galilee 360 CHAPTER XL Mountain of Beatitudes — Women Riding — Cana of Galilee — Christ’s First Miracle — Xoblfman’s Son Healed — Water-pots — Well — M'omen Washing — Jonah’s 'I'own — Tomb of Jonaii — First View of Nazareth — Child Home of Jesus — Population of Nazareth — Dress of Women — View from the Hill — Gn)lto of Annunciation — Synagogue— Jesus Rejected — Bro-v of the Hill — -At the Well — Bake oven 371 CHAPTER XII. Storm at Nazareth — Singing of Birds — Leaving Nazareth — Hills of Galilee — Path of the Holy Family — Plain of Esdraelon — Little Hermon — Carmel — Hattie of the Gods — Elijah — Ahab — Jezebel — The Famine — The Prayer for Rain — God or Baal — Hermits of Carmel — Nain — Talxrr — .Shnnem — Elisha’s Chamber — Raising the Widow’s Son 384 CHAPTER Xril. Fountain of Gideon — Jezreel — Gilboa — Battle of Deborah — Gideon — Scene at Endor — Saul Slain in Gilboa — Jezebel — Vineyard of Naboth — Josiah Slain by Nechro — Napoleon’s Battle — Jehu — Dogs Eat Jezebel — Women Grinding at the Mill — Rock-Cut Cisterns — Across Esdraelon 394 CHAPTER XrV. Jenin — Cactus — Date-Palm — Women at the Tombs — Dothan — Joseph Sold — Elisha at Dothan — Watering Camels — Samaria — Home of the Prophets — Colonnade of Herod — Church of St. John — Siege of Benhadad — Philip at Samaria — Peter at Samaria — Sight of Ebal and Gerizim — Gathering Sticks — Arabs at Meal 403 CHAPTER XV. Shechem — A’'alley of Shechem — Camp of Abraham — Joshua and Israel — Amphitheater — Mount Gerizim — Samaritan Temple — Climbing the Mountain — Samaritan Worship — Passover — Sacred Rock — Samaritan Population — Samaritan Pentateuch — Mount Ebal 413 COXTEXTS. 9 CHAPTER XVI. Leaving Shechem — Lepers — Houses — Elat Roofs — House - tops — Plain of Moreh — Tomb of Joseph — Jacob’s Well- — Askar — Leaving Jacob’s Well — Balata — Northern Hills of Judea 425 CHAPTER XVII. Khan Sawich — IiCbonah — Shiloh — Tabernacle — Altar of Incense — Ark of the Covenant — High-Priest — Home of Samuel — Eli — Robbers’ Fountain — View from Bethel — Mizpeh — Bethel — View of Jerusalem — Events at Bethel — Over the Quarantine jMountains — Camp at Jericho 434 CHAPTER XVIII. Valley of the Jordan — River Jordan — Plain — Cities of the Plain — Jericho — Elisha’s Fountain — Quarantine Mountain — Gilgal — Sodom and Gomorrah — Dead Sea — Bethabara — Pilgrims to the Jordan 447 CHAPTER XIX. Leaving Jericho — Thieves — Brook Cheriih — Elijah Fed by the Ra- vens— Ravens — Wilderness of Judea — 'I’he Good Samaritan — Gazelles — Apostles’ Fountain — Stone of Rest — Bethany — Tomb of Lazarus- — Christ at Bethany — View of Jerusalem from Olivet — Entering the Holy City 462 CHAPTER XX. The Holy City — History of Jerusalem — Origin of its Name — Lo- cation — Size — Population — Moriah — Zion — Valley of Kedron — Vallej' of Hinnom — Plan of Jerusalem — Tyropeon Valley — Stone Cit5' — View in Jerusalem — House-top — Present Con- dition of Jerusalem 477 CHAPTER XXL Walk about Jerusalem^— Mount of Olives — Place of Christ’s Ascen- sion— Olives — Oil Mill — Taxation of the Lands — Via Dolorosa — Brook Kedron — Valley of Kedron — Grotto of Jeremiah — Tomb of Mary — Gethsemane — Olive-Tree in Gethsemane — Jewish Tombs — Tomb of Absalom — Other Tombs — Hill of Of- fense— Virgin’s Fountain — Pool of Siloam — En-rogel 487 CHAPTER XXII. Valley of Hinnom — Molech — Hill of Evil Counsel — -I'ield of Blood — Lower Pool of Gihon — Aqueduct — Upper Pool of Gihon — Rain-Fall — Coronation of Solomon — Burial-Grounds — Olive- 10 COMEXTS. Trees — Tombs of tlie Kings — Tombs of the Judges — Sepulcher of Christ — Sepulcher Open and Closed' — Xob — Saul’s Murder of the Priests 503 CHAPTER XXIII. Walls of Jeruselain — ^ Towers— Eastern Wall — Great Stones — Foundations — Golden Gate — ■ Council - Chambers — Supersti- tions— Place of Judgment — St. Stephen’s Gate — Herod’s Gate — Damascus Gate- — Eength of Entire Wall — Joppa Gate — Tower of David — Mount Zion — Zion Gate — Tyropeon Valley — Dung-Gate — Stone-Quarries under the City — Golgotha 511 CHAPTER XXIV. Streets of Jerusalem — Harain cs Sheriff — Dome of the Rock — Sa- cred Place — Praying-Pla(;e of David — Superstitions — Dome of the Chain — Praying Before the Moscpie — Cisterns — Mo.squeel Aksa — ('radio of Christ — Solomon’s Stables — Wailing - Place of the Jews — Robinson’s Arch 520 CHAPTER XXV. ATa Dolorosa — Pool of Bethesda — Tower of Antonia — Pilate’s House — Arch of Pilate^ — C'hurch of the Holy Sepulcher — Stone of Anointment — Holy Sepulcher — Rent Rock — Chapel of St. Helena — Finding of the Cross — Sacred Pillar — Tomb of Adam Pilgrims — Holy Fire — Pool of Hezekiah — .Armenian Monas- tery— Tomb of David — Lepers — Synagogue — Bazaars — Hos- pital of St. John — Lady Riding a Donkey — Money-Changers — Arab (Juarrel 533 CHAPTER XXVI. Land of Abraham — Sight of Bethlelieni Fields — Tomb of Rachel — Giloh — Pools of Solomon — Tekoa — Mountain of Paradise — Cave of Adullam — Russian Pilgrims — Abrahiftn’s Oak — Plain of Mature — Hebron — Cave of Machpelah — Pools of Hebron — Bethlehem — Church of the Xativit^'- Well of David — Birth of Christ — IJghts of Zion 547 CHAPTER XXVII. Climate of Palestine — AVood — Products of Palestine — Fruits — Silks— Cotton— Fig-Tree— Beasts— Population— Jews — Turks Arabs — Fellahin — Bedouins — Costumes — AVomen — Salu- tations — Land-Tenure — Taxation 5G3 coiXTEyrs. 11 CHAPTER XXVIII. Church in Jerusalem — Leaving the PI0I3' City — Trouble with the Driver — Last View of Jerusalem — House of Obed-edom — • Kir- jath- Jearim — Valley of Ajalon — Latrun — Ramleh — Tower of the Forty — Plain of Sharon — Joppa — Simon’s House — Orange-Orchards — Mohammedan Funeral — Ships of the Desert — Thanksgiving Dinner — Leaving Jopj)a 573 PART FIFTH. EGYPT-LAND OF THE PHARAOHS. CHAPTER I. Land of the Pharaohs — Port Said — Suez Canal — Desert — Land of Goshen — Joseph and Jacob — Home of Israel — Ismailia— Ra- ineses— Bondage of Israel — Zakazik — Palm-Trees — Women — People of Egj’pt — Pj^ramids — Donkeys — Cairo 587 CHAPTER II. Ancient Egj'pt — Its Antiquities — Ancient Government — Abraham in Egypt — Egyptian Glory and Plagues — Plato in Egypt — • Egypt the Shelter of Christ — Virgin’s Tree — Climate of Egj^pt — Copts — Abyssinians — Turks — Women as Slaves — Streets of Cairo — Egy^ptian Gardens — Blind People — Mosques — Grand Mosque— - Citadel — Mamelukes — Mohammedan School — Mohammedan Students — Missions in Egypt 594 CHAPTER III. • Festival of Hassan — History of the Celebration — Scene in the Streets — Murderous Procession — Fanaticism — Curious Belief — Baal Worship 603 CHAPTER IV. Visit to the Pyramids — Arabs— Burial-Ground of Egypt — Cheops — Size of the Pyramid — Interior of Cheops — Queen’s Chamber — Sarcophagus in King’s Chamber — Ascending the Pyramids — View from the Top of Cheops — Pyramid of Cephren — An Arab Race down the Pyramid — Sphinx 609 12 COSTEM'S. CHAPTER V. Visit to Heliopolis — Watering the Lands — Virgin’s Tree — City of On — Obelisk of Egypt — Marriage of Joseph — Decay of Ages... 621 CHAPTER VI. Visit to Sakkarah — Donkey Riding — Sad Sight — Women Mourn- ing— Ancient Memphis — Statue of Rameses — Groves of Palms — Burial Places — Serapeum — Tombs of the Sacred Bulls — Tomb of Tih — Crossing the Nile — Moses in the Rushes 625 CHAPTER VIL Museum of Cairo — Old Statue — Mummies — Whirling Dervishes — Nilometer — River Nile — Overflowing of the Nile — Camp-Fires of Israel 635 CHAPTER VIII. Egyptian People— Route to Alexandria — Fields — Tlie Delta — An- cient Alexandria — Schools of Alexandria— Alexandrian Libra- ries — Pompey’s Pillar — Doom of Alexandria — Modern City — Memories » 641 CHAPTER IX. Leaving Alexandria — Across the Mediterranean — Triest — Custom- House Robbery — Homeward — In London —Oxford — Latimer and Ridley — Across the Ocean — At Home — The New World — Good-by 647 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, PAGE I Portrait of the Author. I Frontispiece. \ Irisli Donkey-Cart . . .40 Irish Donkey . . . 58 Birthplace of Robert Burns . 65 1 Monument of Walter Scott. 83 | Parliament Building . . 89 ; Westminster Abbey . . 94 j St. Paul’s Catheflral . . 109 ■! Bunyan’s Tomb . . . 130 | Bedford Jail .... 132 i Place de la Concorde . . 135 Church of the Madeleine. . 137 View of Pisa . . . 144 Cathedral of Milan . . . 155 Bridge of Sighs . . .161 Arch of Titus .... 171 Remains of the Colosseum . 174 The Pantheon .... 176 St. Peter’s Church, Rome . 179 Graves in the Catacombs at Rome .... 182 Crater of Vesuvius . . 200 New Testament World (map), opposite .... 202 Athens, with the Acropolis . 214 The Parthenon . . . 216 .Mars’ Hill .... 221 Mosque of St. Sophia . . 237 PAGE Mohammedans at Prayer (1) 240 Mohammedans at Prayer (2) . 241 Smyrna. .... 251 Temple of Diana . . . 256 Ancient Theater at Ephesus. 260 Modern Palestine (colored map), opposite .... 269 Palestine in the time of the Patriarchs (map), opposite 277 Fountain by the Wayside . 280 Carob-Tree and Pods . . 288 Cedar of Lebanon . . . 291 Medals of Baal . . . 299 Stone in the Quarry, Baalbec . 301 Entrance to the Temple of the Sun, Baalbec . . . 305 Our Camp at Baalbec, opposite 308 Damascus from Jehel Kasiun . 311 Court of an Eastern House . 315 Divan, or Reception-Room . 316 Street which is Called Straight 325 Eastern Gate of Damascus . 327 Arabs Plowing . . . 330 Gate of CiBsarea Philippi . 333 Jackal — Samson’s Fox . . 341 Sheep-Fold .... 346 Syrian Sheep .... 348 Stork on a Ruin - . 352 13 14 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIOXS. Sea of Galilee, from the North Ruins of a Synagogue, Caper- naum . . . . . View of the Sea of Galilee, from Tiberias . . . View of Nazareth Oriental Dress . . * . Village Bake-Oven Women Grinding at a Mill Date-Palm .... Weeping for the Dead Herod’s Colonnade at Samaria Arabs at Meal . . ’ . View of Shechem . Worship of Samaritans on iMt. Gerizim . . . . Ancient Scroll Closed . Oriental House-Top . The Tabernacle at Shiloh Altar of Incense Ark of the Covenant . High-Priest Before the Lord . The Dead Sea Crossing the Jordan at Beth- abara . . . . Jerusalem from the North-east The Damascus Gate Pool of Siloam, looking toward Jerusalem .... Plan of Jerusalem View in Jerusalem . Environs of Jerusalem (colored map) opposite . Mount of Olives . Oil-Mill Old Olive-Tree in Gethsemane 495 Pool of Siloam and Garden, South-eastward . . . 500 Upper Pool of Gihon . . 505 Sepulcher Open and Closed . 509 The Golden Gate . . . 513 I Dome of the Rock . . . 522 Praying before the Mosque . 526 Wailing-Place of the Jews at Jerusalem . . . 529 A"ia Dolorosa .... 535 Church of the Holy Sepulcher 538 Holy Sepulcher . . . 539 Lady Riding a Donkey . . 545 Tomb of Rachel . . . 548 Pools of Solomon . . . 549 Hebron and the Haram . 554 Bethlehem .... 557 Oriental Costumes . . 568 Sandal 568 AVomaii A’^eiled . . . 569 Tower of the Forty — Ramleh . 579 Joppa ..... 581 Ships of the Desert . . . 584 Egypt (colored map) opposite 587 Suez Canal .... 588 Nile and Pyramids . . 610 The Sphinx .... 618 Obelisk of Egypt at On . 623 Egyptian Donkey . . . 626 Statue of Raineses at Memphis 629 Scene on the Nile . . 633 Egyptian Alummy . . . 636 AVhirling Dervishes . . 637 [ Pompey’s Pillar . . . 645 PAGE 354 356 369 374 377 382 401 404 405 408 402 414 417 422 428 435 436 437 438 455 457 472 475 479 483 485 486 489 490 INTRODUCTION. OOKS of travel have always been regarded with favor by the large class of intelligent people who are not given to schol- I ’o~ { arly pursuits. They satisfy the desire for something which t gives new life and interest to the dry details of history as it I has been commonly written. Tlie traveler who relates with the felicity of a ready writer what has passed under his own observation, and introduces the reader, as it were, to the people witli whom he has come in personal contact, renders a grateful service. If on the one hand the common accusation that the traveler delights to hear himself talk holds good, on the other, if he has profited by his travels, the people are more eager to listen than he is to communicate what he has seen and heard. And as the better facilities for travel have greatly enlarged the number who take advantage of them, so they have in- creased the desire of those who are compelled to remain at home to know more of the world beyond their line of observation. And who- ever gratifies their laudable search for information stands to them some- what in the relation of a personal friend, willing to share with them the benefits which have fallen to his lot. It has grown into a proverb, nearly, that one should become acquainted with his own country before going abroad. There is not so much wisdom contained in this suggestion as appears on the surface. Ours is a country rich indeed in beautiful and, in some parts, sublime natural scenery, which is beginning to secure the attention of the old world. But it is a newly-settled couiitrv, with so few historical monuments of 15 INTRODUCTION. 16 ' any lind, so little of the higher achievements of men, so few great cities, museums of art and science, and we are so far removed from the scenes of man’s highest endeavors, that we can not give precedence to these less interesting objects at home. We desire to touch the current of human affairs that has been flowing in other lands and feel the pulse that beats in other races, and learn more of the development of society. This is the feeling, not always clearly apprehended, that makes a well- written book of travels among the most entertaining and useful of the varied publications of our times. This volume is the record of a tour taken through the more attractive parts of Europe and on into the East into the Bible lands. Over the first part we passed as an independent traveler; but these pages have served to renew and intensify the memories which we cherish of many delightful hours in western and southern Europe. And we bear will- ing testimony that the author, in whose company we journeyed from Corfu to Athens and Constantinople and on through Syria and Egypt, back again to Europe, has been a careful and faithful observer, catch- ing the spirit and impress of the countries through which we passed. For many hours, amounting to days during the tour here narrated, we rode side by side, enjoying the new and strange scenes about us, exchanging views and consulting authorities. It would be difiicult to magnify the enjoyment, the revival of one’s previous knowledge, the quickening of all one’s faculties under these circumstances. The imag- inings and dreams of one’s early years become realities; a great part of one’s faith passes into knowledge, begetting larger faith in the things which still lie beyond. To transfer all this as far as possible to the reader is the object of this volume. It will not be thought strange that so large a portion of the volume ite devoted to Palestine and the adjacent countries. The interest that attaches to the land that Jehovah gave to his chosen people suffers no abatement as the years roll on. How proudly the descendants of Abra- ham looked upon their goodly heritage, rich in memories of their early possession and the growth of the nation, is pathetically described in INTRODUCTION. 17 the books of the prophets. The smallness of the territory, its marked physical peculiarities, the singular beauty of its mountains, valleys, and plains, of the Sea of Galilee, the mystery in which the valley of the Jordan and the Dead Sea are involved, all give it a hold on the imagina- tion and affections that has no parallel among the nations. Where in all the world shall we find a counterpart for Zion, the City of the great King? Beautiful for situation, crowned with a temple on which had been bestowed the free-will offerings of the nation and the highest skill of the times in which it was built, where God had manifested himself as in no other house of worship ever built with human hands, it still stands in the hearts of men as the type of the heavenly city — the New Jerusalem. The hopes and aspirations of which Zion is the prototype have pro- duced, in Christian minstrelsy, hymns that will endure with the strains of the Psalmist. Indeed, it may be truthfully said that the followers of Christ have shown a deeper attachment to the Holy Land than the Jews themselves; for whatever memories the Jews still cherish of patri- archs, prophets, and kings, we who believe in Christ as God manifest in the flesh, and trust in the salvation which he brought to men, have memories more tender and enduring. Abraham, Moses, David, were the progenitors and builders of a nation ; Christ is the redeemer of the human race. By his coming the glory of Shecliem and Bethel and Hebron has lost its splendor in the brighter light of Bethlehem, Beth- any, and the mount of Olives. Jerusalem had become only a name in the earth except for Calvary. Even the awful grandeur of the descending God on Sinai does not so touch the soul as the glory of the mount of the transfiguration. The early Christian pilgrims found so many precious memories of their Lord and Master that many spent their lives there, happy to live and die where he had been in person. Christian churches became more numerous than synagogues had been, and have served since to identify the places that had been hallowed by the presence of Christ. The Crusaders are a grand illustration of the undying faith and affection of Christendom in regard to this land. 18 INTRODUCTION. This century has seen a great awakening of interest in the history and present condition of Palestine. That which for centuries was possible only to adventurous and professional travelers has in these later years been accomplished by scholars and devotees in constantly increasing numbers. Yet only a few have been able to gratify what has become a common desire among the more intelligent. To these, how- ever, remains the satisfaction of learning from one whose hopes have been gratified, or of reading, as in this volume, the record of his observa- tions and thoughts. And they may rely with confidence on his report. Although the judgments of the Lord have fallen on this once fair- est and most prosperous land until it has become a wreck, and des- olate compared with its best days, yet no other country with so old a history has changed so little in outward appearance. Xowhere else have the sites of its memorable places been so well preserved. Man- ners and customs have changed so little that one soon perceives that he is certainly in the land of the Bible; that it was written by those familiar with the scenes before his eyes. With all its ruin, no other land has preserved in such integrity the characteristics that have been woven into its history, its literature, and its religion. So well has the author combined in these pages the physical aspects of the countries, and their present condition, — civil, social, and relig- ious,— with the ancient and later history, that they can not be read without advantage; and we commend them to favorable consideration, assured that they will justify reasonable expectation of enjoyment and profit. Beis'j. St. James Fry. St. Louis, SEssoutn. JOURNElYINdi$ IN THE] Ol^D Wo%D, JouiiNilYiNQ^ IN The; Ohd Worth PART FIRST. THE EMERALD ISLE. CHAPTER I. Preparation for the Journey — Good-by — On the Steamer — Leaving the Harbor — Leaving the Pilot — Sea-Sickness — Fog — The Ocean — Ves- sels at a Distance- — Burial at Sea — Inhabitants of the Deep — The Vessel — Bill of Fare. fANY years ago, -when childhood fancies floated in boyish dreams, an atlas of the world became my ]K)ssession, by the thoughtful gift of a grandfather, now long since among the angels. From that atlas, by nightly study, 1 learned to know the countries and con- tinents of the great globe and the islands of tlie distant seas. Beside that treasure a loving mother, who made our home a path of light, placed a Bible. These Avere the Avriter’s first possessions. From that Bible, ere yet my youthful feet had confidence to tread beyond the shadoAV of my OAvn dear father’s roof, I read of the Holy Tiand, where God’s ancient people dAvelt in tents, and where once .Jesus liA^ed and walked among the sons of men. Then my eyes filled Avith anxious tears to look on those distant scenes, and my heart throbbed to have the feet .«ome distant day press the same paths where the dear Master trod. SIoav years have Avrought their shad- owy changes. Many childish dreams remain unrealized, and 21 22 THE EMERALD ISLE. alv,a}’S must. It was a joyously bright June morning which woke the dreamer to the consciousness that some of the long pent-up lieart-throbbings were to be stilled, and I must hasten to be ready for the journey. Did you ever prepare for a long journey? If so, you found it to be no easy task. What to take along and how to get away from that Avhich can not be taken along is a difficult jjroblem. The ])re])aration is different according as we do or do not expect to return. If we expect to come again every- thing must be so arranged as to go on somewhat according to our wishes, and so that we will know where to find it. If the departure is forever, then let the cords break, let the bonds be sundered. Other hands will put the tangled and bleeding ends together. But who knows the return of the footsteps? Who does not know that there is the last journe}', and there is that good-by which lingers on and on, dying out at last in a long, unbroken silence? On Wednesday, July 29th, I had completed my good-bys to many friends and fellow-laborers at 1113' home cit}’ and was at the beginning of a long journe}'. I found that men who had usuallv been too bus\’ to notice a passer-b}' had for da3’S stop- ped me on the streets to wish me good fortune abroad. So I had tickets, passports, letters of credit in foreign lands, and a small su})i)h’ of medicines and a few books in the valise, and was readv for sea-sickness. It will hardh’ be of interest to the reader to note here that in the picturesque vallc}’ of Virginia I said good-b}' to that dear little woman who for almost a score of 3'ears has been the strength and inspiration of mv life. After a season of praver alone with three little girls I had got awa}- from their embrace. How delicate these jewels of ours. IIow tender the moment when the}' slipped out of sight and sat still ciwing. Children are just the creatures to love, just the little tendrils from which we would not be severed. That anxious, loving, sorrowing face from which I turned awa}^ at the depot in Winchester, Virginia, I shall never forget. The reader need not be told that it was hers who has made our humble home the path to paradise. LEAVlXa OF THE PILOT. 23 After two days in New York, at noon, August 6th, Dr. Thoni2>son and myself climl^ed into a cab, and the driver hur- ried us along through the busy, crowded streets of the great city to the pier where the vessel lay receiving its vast com- pany of voyagers. No artist can jjicture and no })en describe the scenes which almost daily occur at this great harbor. Vast crowds sauntered about, without a])parently any object. Others wore a look of deep anxiety. Women were clinging to husbands who were going from them for many months. Children held on to parents whom they would not soon see again. The bell rings and a sharp voice calls, “ All ashore,” and the parting is at hand. Those who have come aboard to .see fricmls and loved ones ofi' must saj’ good-by. Hundreds kiss good-by with tears, and embraces loving and tender. What a throb of excitement! The good-by was repeated over and over, as a moment of time remained. One efibrt after another is made by friends to get away, and still they cling fast to each other. The 2>artings were made at last. The bridge was taken in, the “greyhound of the sea” turned from the pier, and the last wavings of cheer from the shore were out of sight, and we had all said, “Farewell to America; wel- come the sea.” The scenery on leaving New York is delightful. There is a magniliceut view of the city and of the great bridge swung across tlie river to Brooklyn. The ba}" wuis full of vessels, tugs, and steamers. Two or three were just coming in from foreign ports. One takes an interest in watching the buoys, which in great numbers float like jiainted barrels or hogs- heads, some red, some striped, and of various colors, pointing out places of danger. They are chained fast to the rocks and tell where ])eril is to be avoided. Some time there may be telegraph stations and light-houses and life-saving stations at intervals all the way across the ocean. One of the most interesting of the early scenes of a voyage is the -leaving of the pilot. Every steamer is in the hands of an experienced pilot until it has passed Sandy Hook and is beyond buoy No 1. Knowdng the pilot would be taken 24 THE EMERALD ISLE. from us, a sharp lookout was kept so that I might see him when he left us; and withal, I had some desire at least to get a postal-card off with him to friends left behind. Suddenly off to the left I caught sight of a pilot sail-boat, from which two strong seamen in a row-boat came plunging toward us over the boisterous waves. It was a wild scene. Often, in the language of the psalmist, “they mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths.” Sometimes they were entirely out of sight, though near us. It seemed they would never rise again, so deep was the trough of the sea in which they sunk. By and by the frail thing stood alongside our steamer, and a rope was let down from above, by which the men steadied their boat for a few moments while the pilot ([uickly climbed down the side of the vessel and got into the boat and was rowed away to a steam-tug which was in wait- ing. Our vessel put off to sea. There is one acquaintance to be made on a voyage which must be formed at once. Not that it is so bewitching as to take hold of the affections, but because of a peculiar power to fascinate the stomach. So I made my first acquaintance with sea-sickness greatly against my will. It is a thing, a sensation, a monster, a beast of evil which no one can describe. I shall not try. It must be experienced — yes, experienced — not to be enjoyed, but everlastingly abhorred. One feels a little dizzy about the head and a little squeamish about the stomach, but guesses it will pass off, as the scenery is so grand and the atmosphere so delicious and bracing. One soon wonders if any besides himself has these sensations. Some one asks if you “ have experienced any of the sensa- tions of sea-sickness.” You are ashamed of yourself You don’t want anybody to know how you feel, or that you feel at all. You answer, “ I have felt better, but guess I shall be all right presently.” -lust how that state of affairs is to come about you do not know. ^Meantime there is a nice lady led to the side of the deck to vomit. Some lad says he feels sick, and it is all because he went down to the state-room or the saloon. He vows he will not go down there again for all the FOG. 25 water-proofs the women have. Jty this time there are hosts who have gone helow to try it alone in the state-rooms. From my room I conlcl hear at least a dozen groaning, crying, moaning, and vomiting. By this time one is in a perspira- tion— no, sir, he sweats. Then he is sick — oh, .so sick! I never was so sick. You think may be you will die. If you do, 3'ou do not want anybodv to know it. You do not care if you would die. You have submitted, and are willing to do anj'thing. You just go on vomiting. Some one says, “You don’t vomit — \'ou throw uji.” Just so I found it. You just throw up until your very gizzard is out of }'ou, and 3’our back is unjointed, and 3-ou are all gone eveiw wa3". It was not a little remarkable tliat with perhaps nine out of ten down sick, still there were those who went right through the vov- age without the least inconvenience, and nev'er missed a meal. The ladies seemed to suffer the most. Some were ver3' ill indeed. A hcav3' rain-fall in mid-ocean is an interesting phenome- non. With it the wind often drives against the vessel with great fuiy. The waves dash high, lashing their great sheets over the deck, and giving free baths to heroic passengers. One of the unpleasant experiences at sea is the passing through a dense fog. For a night and part of a day our vessel was in deep darkness. Sometimes this continues for a longer time. The fog on the Atlantic is veiy dense. For many hours our officers could not see half the length of the vessel before the prow. The heavv fc)g-horn was sounded, and all night long, ever3' minute, its tremendous tones sounded out over the darkened and angiy billows of the awful deeji. This was to advise aii3' ve.ssel which might chance to be passing near, so that there should be no collision. There ma3' have been no vessel within a hundred miles; vet the signal of danger never stopped till the warm sun poured down its beams with a heat which lifted the dark cloud. After being out four da3's, and not a moment's cessation of speed, one da3^ our vessel suddenl3’ stopped. The sensation was peculiar, from the different motion of the vessel on the 26 THE EMEJLILD ISLE. ■\vavGS. The sails were run up, but did little to carry the vessel. Soon the re]>airs were made and the sluggish, drifting sensation was over, and our “city"' was riding straight over the waves. 'When sea-.sickness is i)assed and aciulcling, saddle of mutton and currant jell3’, roast fillet of veal, roast sucking jjig, apple-sauce, roast lamb; jJOultry — roast ducklings, boiled turkey with vinegar, roasted and boiled chicken, roast turkey; vegetables — green corn, string beans, plain boiled and mashed potatoes; cold meals — ham and tongue; pastry — plum-pudding and brandy-sauce, bakewell pudding, apple hedgehog, tapioca pudding, jamsnip ruse, Gen- oese pastrv, rice with custard, calves’-foot jellj’; ice-cream ; cheese — seven kinds; cofiee, tea, chocolate. It is a terrible array, yet many kept up prompt attendance upon every meal, eating in proportion to the bill of fare, and still lived to get ashore. CHAPTER II Sighting Laiul — Coast of Ireland — Passing the Custom-House — Eme- rald Isle— St. Patrick — Names of Company — Irish Jaunting-Car— Blarney Castle — Kissing tlie Blarney-Stone — City of Cork — Bells of Shandon. HI^FTER a voyage of eight days on the ocean, the granJ- ^ est tiling possible is tlie sight of land. The first t glimpse of solid form rising above tlie ocean waves was the upper peaks of the Skelligs, off the coast of Ire- ijG land, tvhich was caught on Sabbath afternoon. These i two immense and indescribable rocks, towering probably two hundred feet above the edge of the water, at a distance of about fifteen miles from the shoi’e, stand as sentinels of the south-west corner of the Emerald Isle. The}' are off the coast of the County of Kerry, and may mark what was once really the coast-line. The scene beheld as the vessel followed around the rock-bound coast of Ireland was wonderful in picturesque grandeur. For a distance of nearly a hundred miles our steamer sailed in sight of the rocky shores and distant hills and mountains. Such rugged, wild, and stalwart works of God were a grand de.ssert to mental appetites just a little gorged with the sea. East of the Skelligs is Valencia, a mountain height, from the foot of which the first Atlantic cable was laid from the Great Eastern, by Cyrus W. Field. Sixty-four miles from (iueonstown is Fastnet Light-house. It is built upon a tremendous rocL, which towers up to great height in the midst of the ocean. The steamer passed within a few miles of it, so that it could be seen very distinctly. All along this bleak and rock-bound coast there are immense light-houses, which cast their light far out over the ocean. Eight miles 31 32 THE EMERALD ISLE. out from Queenstown our steamer was met by a tug which received passengers and mails for Ireland, and the “ City of Berlin” went to Liverpool. It was a pageant to behold as the ship drove away from our tug through the mellow moonlight, with the light gleaming from her hundreds of windows, and her crew cheering and laughing at our little tug-boat. By 10:30 r. >i. our boat entered the splendid harbor and jmlled up at the wharf at Queenstown, where the company had intended to land. It was the occasion of a great regatta, and we being informed that the hotels were crowded. Captain Jenkins chartered the boat for the city of Cork, thirteen miles farther up the River Lee. At (Queenstown the company of fifty to seventy-five per- sons, many of them ladies, were put through the custom- house. It was the grandest farce I ever saw enacted. It was a scene worthy the sketching of an artist. There were about half a tlozen Irishmen going about with little lamps, or cau- dles, opening and looking into valises and trunks. Men and women, old and young, were clambering about in the darkness over the baggage, talking and hunting, and untying ropes and unbuckling straps, so as to allow the officers to get a peep. There was no order aI)out it. Soon as one got done with a trunk another attacked the same trunk, and he was only pre- vented from proceeding by being ^rushed off and told the thing had been attended to. And so the scene went on for nearly two hours, and until nearly one o’clock in the night. The ride up the harbor of Cork by moonlight is a delight. Black Rock Castle is a sj)lendid sight. Near it was the home of William Penn, and from it he embarked for America. At two o’clock in the night our tug pulled in to the quay at Cork. Ireland is one of the brightest spots of God's green earth, in its natural aspects. This is true of a large part of the island. It lies directly west of England, and south-west of Scotland, and is divided from England on the east by the Irish Sea, one hundred and thirty miles wide, on the north-east by the North Channel, fourteen miles wide. It lies nearly in the latitude of Labrador, between fifty-one and fifty-five. J^AMES OF COMPANY. 33 It has an area of twenty million eight hundred and eight thousand two hundred and sevent}’-one acres, the length being three hundred and four miles, and Avidth one hundred and ninety-four miles. Yet, by reason of the influence of the gulf- stream, the waters of which flow warm from the Gulf of Mexico, its climate is about that of tlie central portion of the United States, though much less varied, the mean temperature being from 48° to 50°. Its winters are less cold and its sum- mers less hot than those of England or Scotland. It grows sheep and cattle in abundance; oats, barley, and some whealt, with potatoes. You see no corn here. It is, indeed, an Eme- rald Isle. I never saw verdure until here. The humid atmos- })here gives to the grass, the trees, and the shrubs a greenness beyond all description, while the hills and the forests and the hedges are adorned Avith flowers of splendid delicacy and beauty. Who discovered the Emerald Isle? St. Patrick. Who drove all the snakes out of Ireland? St. Patrick. Who in- vented the Irish cart? St. Patrick. Who invented the Irish jaunting-car? St. Patrick. Yes, all this and much more, for this is “ ouid Ireland,” the land of St. Patrick. A company of tAventy-six Avas organized into a special American party for a tour through Ireland, Scotland, and England, on the morning of August 15th, in the city of Cork, h'he company Avas composed of most agreeable gentlemen and ladies. As a faint tribute to the friendship of these trav- eling companions, I here give their names and residences: Rev. Dr. J. B. McFerrin, Miss McFerriu, Miss Mollie Edwards, Nash- ville, Tennessee; Mrs. N. C. Collier, Miss Lulu Collier, Murfreesborough, Tennes.see; W. W. Sedgwick, E.sq., Sandwich, Illinois; H. B. McKenzie, Esq., Ilavorstraw, New York; Hon. J. J. Gille.spie, Mrs. Gillespie, Miss Jessie Gillespie, Miss Mamie Rhodes, Pittsburgh, Pa.; Rev. Dr. H. A. Thompson, Westerville, Ohio; Miss A. Ledlie, Utica, New York ; Rev. G. W. MilLr, Wilmington, Delaware; lion. James Burns, Mrs. Burns, Miss IJzzic Newland, Detroit, Michigan; E. M. Jenkins, Esq., Mrs. Jenkins, New York; Hon. W. C. DePauw, Charles W. DePauw, New Albany, Indiana; D. Banning, Esq., ^Ir.s. Banning, Miss Banning, Cincinnati, Ohio ; Rev. R. N. Standifer, Concordia, Mississippi ; Rev. Dr. Waugh, India. 3 34 THE EMERALD ISLE. The party was under the special care of Mr. E. M. Jenkins, an expert tourist, of 271 Broadway, New York. I can only show the reader a few pictures of things seen here and there in the Emerald Isle. The Irish jaunting-car is one of the first things a traveler becomes acquainted with, in Ireland. Now, this thing called the Irish jaunting-car is unlike all other vehicles of every kind known in the civilized world. But let it be remembered that few vehicles have more than two “whales"’ in Ireland. So the jaunting-car has but two. The}' are riglit under it and intended for business. The driver sits in front. Four persons ride in a car, besides the driver. The car has no cover, and you sit two on a side with your backs squarely to- ward the backs of your partners, who sit on the other side, while the feet rest on a kind of shelf witlun a foot of the ground. The wheel, which is low, is directly under the seat. One thinks at first that he will upset either sidewise, or back- waid, or forward, or all three ways at once. Then he finds comfort in the thought that it would not hurt anybody if he did. There are cover-cars in Ireland, and wagonettes, but for sightseeing there is nothing equal to the jauiiting-car. The drivers of these cars are witty, from nature and by pro- fession. They follow wit for a business, as I learned on my first experience with them. I must first of all take the reader to the famous Blarney Castle. According to the tradition it will be helpful to all. It is reached by a most splendid road, at a distance of eight miles from Cork. The road lies along the “sweet mossy banks of the River Lee.” There are old gray walls on either side at many places; then delightful shades and walks, with hills covei’ed with pine, spruce, fir, hemlock, and trees and hills trellaeed with vines and flowers. The landscape scenes are most charming to the eye. I soon found that the driver of the car was a bland, “fluid talker.” He was of course unedu- cated— could neither read nor write. In this I describe the thousands of cab-drivers in Ireland. He soon began to quote poetry. I said to him, “You are well versed in poetry. Who KISSING THE BLARNEY-STONE. 35 is the great poet of Ireland?” “Faith, and I could not tell, sir; for I am a very good poet myself,” was the witty reply. I soon learned that all this was practicing his profession — the amusing of the traveler with the hope of getting a shil- ling. They are half jjaid by the owners of the car, and man- age to beg the balance out of the traveler, though he has paid for car, drivei’, and all. Blarney Castle is not a myth. It was built in the fifteenth century, by Cormac McCarthy or by the Countess of Desmond. It is in its foundation about one hundred feet square, and is a massive tower one hundred and twenty feet bigh. The lord of Blarney must have had strong ideas; for the walls of the castle are from ten to thirteen feet thick. Tlie castle has four stories; but of course only the walls remain. You reach the heights by a flight of stairs, through the tower, of one hundred and eight steps. It was intended to defy power and powder and time. Lord Cromwell captured it in his visit to Cork. The castle is about as wonderful as the fancy-power attributed to the Blarney-Stone, so famous, which has been a by-word throughout the world. When Millikin wrote his song on “The Groves of Blarnej',” 1799, this foolish notion reached its zenith, that whoever kissed this stone should be eloquent and poetic. The story is told that the Blarney-Stone, which bore the inscription, “ComacA MacCartluj Fortis mi fieri feed, A. D. 1446,” which is now illegible, was and is to be .seen only at the north angle, clasped by two iron bars suspended over the buttress of the wall, so that one had to hang over the wall by the bars to kiss it. But another stone about three feet long is suspended to a projecting buttress, which is comparatively' easy of access to the candidate of blarney eloquence. It also is clasped by two iron bars, and bears date 1703. I saw a num- ber of young men — lawyers — and young women perform the feat; but for myself, I risked nothing on such nonsense. I shall never forget how anxious many ladies, whom I saw there, were to kiss this old stone. They must bend down over an opening through which if one were to fall he would be pre- cipitated almost one hundred feet to the ground. Then the 36 THE EMERALD ISLE. face must be turned upward and the stone kissed on the bot- tom, as it is a kind of lintel. It required from two to six men to hold a lady while she lay down and thrust her head and twisted her neck and face and mouth until the cold stone was kissed, and the fancy of the legend honored. “Father Front” wrote, — “ There is a stone there, That whoever kisses, Oh he never nii.sses To grow eloquent.” As we drove toward Cork the driver of the car would rej^eat over and over, as if in a joyous reverie, this stanza: “ Tlie groves of lUarnej' •Tliey look so eharniing Down by the pearling Of sweet, silent streams. Being bank’d with posies. That spontaneous grow there, Planted in order, By the sweet rock close.” The city of Cork has about eigh'ty-five thousand people, only ten thousand of whom are Protestants. It is the capital of southern Ireland in beauty and wealth. It is said to have been founded in the ninth century by the Daties, it having long been the place of a pagan temple. It is probable that its founding was yet earlier than above stated. Oliver Crom- well subdued the city in 1649, when he was there for a short time. The name Cork, formerly “Corrach,” means a swamp, and was given it from its position on the River Lee. The Queen’s College is here, to which students of all denomina- tions are admitted. The principal street is St. Patrick; and the St. Patrick bridge over the harbor, built in 1860, is of stone, and is sixty feet between the parapets. The city streets are narrow, and the side-walks are made of stone. Near tire bridge is a statue of Father i\Iatthew, the great Irish apostle of temperance, dated 1856, as a tribute from a grateful people. It was in Cork that William Penn was converted to the Quaker faith; and a number of those people yet reside in BELLS OF SHAXDOX. 37 the community. It is now the home of Parnell, the Irish agitator. One of the most interesting places there is the quaint old church, with “ Tlie bells of Shanclon, Which sound so grand on The pleasant watei'S Of the River Lee.” The church is a quaint and almost grotesque structure, which well repays a visit. It bears the marks of antiquity. I do not know when it was first built. It was destroyed in 1690, and rebuilt in 1720. The old fountain in front of the altar bears date 1629. In its glory as a state church it had five cu- rates, and paid a salary of about nine thousand dollars a year. It was then one of the largest parishes in Ireland. Its tower is nearly one hundred and fifty feet high. I reached its sum- mit by crawling up over many dark steps of stone, through narrow ways. The church is now dingy and alnmst dilapi- dated, and has only an attendance of one hundred or one hundred and fifty persons. It has an old curate nearly eighty years old, who will neither die nor resign. In its immense tower swing the far-famed “bells of Shandon.” They are eight in number, and of good and delicate tone, and bear date A. D. 17-50. They are rung by a huge clock. Every fifteen min- utes their tones ring out over the city. There are four strokes at the one-fourth hour, eight at the half hour, twelve at three- fourths hour, with sixteen at the full hour and a heavy bass bell tolling the number of the hour. Here in the church-3'ard is buried Rev. Francis Mahonj^, called Father Prout, who wrote the “Bells of Shandon.” I close this chapter with two stanzas from that pretty poem : “ With deep affection And recollection I often think on Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells. “ I’ve heard bells chiming Full many a clime in, Tolling sublime in Cathedral shrine, While at a glib rate Brass tongues would vibrate; But all their music Spoke naught like thine.” ) CHAPTER III. Reign of Terror — B-‘ggars— Glengariff — Little Things — Frances Clare — Lakes of Killarney — Gap of Dnnloe — Innisfallen — Old Abbeys — Irish Wit — Kildare Fame- — The Unextinguishable Fire. EVERAL days tvere spent in the disaffected regions of Ireland. This southern ])ortion is by far the poor- est part of the island. On the way to Bantry, sixty les south-west from Cork, I saw where some evictions re occurring, and where the Irish Land-League were ivkling homes for those who had thus been turned from their tenements for which they had not jiaid the rental, ^luch excitement prevailed here and tliere over the recent killing of landlords. Xo iiunishment could be inflicted. The citizens knew w'ho the murderers were, but would not tell. Life was in great danger, and the peasants were full of hatred to the landlords. The whole country was overrun with sol- diers. In the little town of Bantry there were one hundred and fifty of the royal arm\'. There was, indeed, a reign of terror. Westward, acro.ss the mountains of Kerry, a route of eleven miles, made over a splendid road by car (car there means the jaunting-car or wagonette), the tourist witnesses a scene he can never forget. As the road winds and turns around the arms of the Bay of Bantry, ]wor children come out one after another, following the company, begging. They are ragged beyond description. Their hair seems never to have been combed, and their whole person is covered with dirt. They look as if they had to wait for rain to wasln One after an- other comes running after the company, hallooing, “A penny, if ye plaize, miss,” ‘‘A penny, if ye i^laize, sir,” or, “Some- thing, if ye plaize, sir.” At one time there were more than 38 LITTLE THINGS. 39 twentj' of these little squalid urchins, ranging in age from six to twelve years, following our company; and this contin- ued for a distance of two or three miles. Every now and tlien when a piece of monej' was thrown uj:)on the hard j^ike, there would be sucli a scramble for it as among half-starved chickens running for one grain of corn. They did not look starved, for the}' were plump, with rosy cheeks glowing through the dirt. AViiile such a scene furnished amusement for a moment to some, I hope never to see the like again. GlengaritF is a beautiful and picturesque spot. It is a glen al)Out tliree miles long and about half a mile wide, lying ui>on the Bay of Bantry. The hills around it can hardly be called mountains for lack of height, yet their ruggedness and sharpness of feature give them that aspect. The bay is sur- rounded by irregular banks covered with willows and grass, and every variety of green hills sloping back to miniature mountains, while just a mile away from the shore are nearly a half dozen little islands dropped down just for beauty. The mountains all about are covered with the heather celebrated and made clas.sic by Sir Thomas Moore, the Irish jwet. Before taking the reader farther it may not be amiss to 2>ut in a paragraph of little points. A castle in Ireland is what Americans would call a mansion, only it is built with greater strength and has a tower as a fort. Steps to the u^^i^cr jearts of those castles are always circular, and in towi rs constructed for them. Our direct -ascending stairs were little known until the time of Elizabeth. Hotels furnish splendid accom- modations. Breakfast about eight o’clock, lunch at noon, and dinner about 7;00 r. m. Dinner is the big meal. One’s plate is changed at the table from five to nine times, ac- cording to style, as are also knives, forks, etc. Everybody is polite. It is, “If you please, sir,” “ Bog your pardon, sir,” “Thank you, sir,” and many other like courteous and euidio- nious phrases. The heather, growing everywhere, is a shrub four to six inches high, in thickness of the grass, and green and leafed like delicate cedar, but always adorned with a small red flower. The finest specimens of the fuchsia grow 40 THE EMERALD ISLE. here almost wild, being even in great quantities along fences, and as hedges aljout country hotels and at railroad stations. After the middle of August I found the country in the midst of harvest. Wheat, barley, and oats were being cut, as well a= hay. There is no machinery, not even a grain-cradle, — nothing in the reaping-line above a sickle, or an excuse of a mowing-scythe, both of which are used in the harvesting of grain. The people work as if they were too lazy to gather the grain they have. Most of the grain is about the .same as in America. There is no corn raised in Ireland. They have the most splendid roads. One can tell where Irishmen learn to break stone. There are splendid fisheries in the bays and lakes. Everybody in Ireland looks at you in a way which says, “A penny, if ye j)laize, sir.” The favorite thing of Ire- land seems to be the donkey-cart. You can l)uy a donkey for a pound; tliat is. Jive dolhirs. Eve- rywhero are to be seen these donkey- carts, witli an old Avoman or a half dozen s(|ualid chil- dren riding to or from town. The cart is always too big for the donke\'. It can rain at any time tliere, and that, too, readily as you can imag- ine. The people seem determined tooAvnland. Since they can not have it as real estate they hold it as personal property, and carry it about on their persons. I saw few giave-yards through the country. Our MARY FRANCES CLARE. 41 driver said, “ They all drown themselves, sir.” Great forms of men, young and strong, hang around to tell you some lie with the hope of getting a penny. You are expected to give a few pence or a shilling to every driver or waiter or steward. It is awful. Everybody expects you to give “something, if ye plaize, sir.” Every castle is surrounded by a massive stone wall, and at its entrance is a lodge, where some poor servants live. There are only a few school-houses, and churches are few and far between. To the Lakes of Killarney, over the continuous mountains of Kerry, the scenery is varied and delightful. There is a fascination and charm in its grandeur, and a mellowness and depth in its frequent valleys and shades which feed the mind and heart. Twenty miles from the Bay of Bantry is Kenmare, where are the convent and schools over which presides the world- famed Sister Mary Frances Clare, the Xun of Kenmare. The buildings and grounds are tasteful, and the school is an object of much interest in this ignorant and poor region. A large numl)er of poor children are here fed and educated. Mush is served for breakfast, and potatoes or bread for dinner. IMost beautiful lace-work is made and put on sale. Our company, having a number of ladies in it. left the institution ten or fifteen pounds for kerchiefs and collars. The very hand- some face and manners of Sister Frances and her associates will ever be a bright picture to associate with Kenmare. Twenty miles farther, over another mountain, and down by hoary-gray walls, overgrown with ivy and shaded by the inde- scribable holly and hemlock and Arbor Vitae trees, whose trunks are coveref], with moss spreading over rocks and hills sprinkled with blooming heather, nestled in a frame-work of hill-side glory, lie the beautiful Lakes of Killarney. Near by is a town of about five thousand people, noted for its idleness and dirt. Sift out the beggars and there would be only a few hundred remaining. After a wagon-ride of a few hours from the town, a horsebacl: ride of about five miles through the gap of Dunloe bring.3 the rider to the head of the lakes. 42 THE EMERALD ISLE. This gap is a wild mountain pass, between great mountain peaks. Its winding course is about lakes, buried away in those lofty heights, above great chasms and beneath lofty rocky peaks. These projecting rocks are covered with ivy, heather, shrubs, and trees. In this pass is Black Lough, from which St. Patrick is said to have banished the last snake from Ireland. Descending from the passway, there rise to the right the Carrantual Rocks, the highest peaks in Ireland, three thousand, four hundred and fourteen feet above the ocean. The upper lake is the smallest and most beautiful, sur- rounded with rocky shores and dotted with beautiful islands. Its length is two and one half miles and its breadth three fourths of a mile. The middle lake, reached from the other by a long channel, is nearly twice as large as the upper, while the loAver lake is five miles long and three miles wide. It would make a small volume to write the legends and tales a tourist hears from his guides and boatmen. On the west of the lower lake is plainly to be seen the pretty cottage of the queen, where her majesty took lunch, just twenty years ago, irpon her visit here. There is a marvelously sweet vibration of sound to bo heard at certain paints in the gap of Dunloe, and at different i)oints along the lakes. Our guide provided the com])any with one of the rarest entertainments b}' allow- ing them to alight by a lake in the gap while he withdrew a few paces and played on his clarionet the “ Vale of Avoca.” Its music chimes well to the delightful poem of Tliomas Moore, which will be remembered by the reader: “ There is not in tlie wide world a valley so sweet As llie vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.” As the sweet strains floated, echoed, and vibrated, ])laying on their invisible strings of music over the lakes, I could but think of the swelling, tender cadences of song whicli shall be when the ransomed rejoice above. In tbe lower lake is, Innisfalleu Island, upon which are the ruins of an old abbey. It is believed to have been founded in GOO A. D., by St. Finniau. On the eastern coast of the lake LAKES OF KILLARNEY 43 is Ross Castle. It was a structure which must have defied fearful assault. It was captured and put in ruins about 16-52, by Ludlow. The chapel is only about fifteen by twenty feet, but shows well the style of architecture of a few centuries ago. The most interesting place to visit outside of the won- derful creations of God in the lake and the mountain passes in these regions is the Muckross Abbey, founded in 1440, and repaired in 1602. These ruins are a short distance from the lake, eastward, and consist of a chapel and abbey. A dark court-yard is in the center, around which on all sides are the cloisters, like a piazza, arched over with heavy masonry. There now stands a magnificent yew-tree in tho center of the court-j'ard, said to be four hundred years old. There are im- mense chambers and lialls, all built in the most quaint man- ner. In these old ruins of a once splendid abbey, which are so eloquent with antiquity, sleep the bodies of the monks de- posited in their honored places, surrounded by great rocks which have defied the flames of two destroying fires, and the decaying hand of more than six hundred years. These ruins are the most splendid and best preserved I saw in Ireland. There is a solemn and awful grandeur about such a spot. How one is reminded of the superstition and false religious ideas in monastery life! The Lakes of Killarney, set around by antique ruins, are the most beautiful objects of nature I have ever beheld. Why they should be found in the midst of such idleness, poverty, and eternal beggary, I can not conceive. I can most heartily recommend everything here to the tourist except the beggars, and also the hotel which no doubt did the best it could, but whose waiters were quite too slow for the hungry mouths of Americans. This town and surrounding country are all owned by one man. Lord Kenmare. Mr. Herbert owns the old Abbey of Muckro.ss. There is one thing which always causes a ray of hope to spring up in the tourist’s heart, and that is the prospect of some new sjjecimen of Irish wit which you may expect to bubble over at any time. One of our company, pointing down 44 THE EMERALD ISLE. a valley, one day asked the driver how far down the possession of a certain landlord extended? “Twenty miles, sir,” was the reply. “But how far straight down?” was the further inter- rogation. “ Down to hell, sir. He has liis estate arranged for the next world, sir.” Landlords are not much loved by the Irish. As our wagonette was driving to the gap of Dunloe, our driver repeated a homely verse as follows : “ You have seen Killaniey’s beauteous water, You have seen Kate Kearney’s daughter’s daughter; You have passed the Bull and Purple too, And tasted of the mountain dew.” Bull and Puri^lc arc tlie names of two mountain peaks, and one of the descendants of a noble woman, Kearney, lives on the road to the gap, while “ mountain dew” is the familiar and universal name there for whisky. I .said to him, “ Your stanza is mostly good, but it has a bad climax.” Quick as thought came the answer, “ Yes, sir, yer honor, there is great room for improvement in the ‘mountain dew,’ sir.” Southern Ireland is among the most blessed and most cursed spots on earth. Going northward by rail to Dublin, I found tlie country much more productive. The mo.st interesting place on the route was Kildare, in the county of the .same name, thirty miles from Dublin. Here the convert Bridget erected the nunnery of Kildare’s fame, in which it is asserted the nuns kept up tlie “ unextinguishable fire” for pilgrims, during a thousand year.s, whicli tlie archbishop of Dublin, — H arry, — had extinguished in 1220. After being rekindled, King Henry VIII. again put it out, never to be lighted again. CHAPTEP. IV. Dublin — Parliament House — Dublin University — Statue of Goldsmith — Tliomas Moore — Burke — William — Nelson — Castle — St. Patrick ’.s Cathedral — Swift — Whately — Phenix Park — Tomb of O’Connell — Harvests — Lough Erne — Round Towers — Romances. EBLIX is the city of Ireland. It has a population of about two hundred and fifty thousand, nearly two ^^"4^ hundred thou.sand of whonx are Catholics. It has splendid 1 inen and silk manufactories, and is what ^ Americans Avould call a finished city. There is more of Avealth and business and comparatively le.ss of abject poverty than in 60Uthern Ireland. It is the great sea-port and trading town. The old Parliament House has some of its compartments just as Avhen Ireland wa.s governed as a sejfarate jfrovince with its own parliament, as Ontario is now. It is a large semi-circular stone structure, Avith a recess in the front on College Green. It cost about five hundred thousand dollars, and Avas completed about a hundred years ago. It is now OAvned and used bj’ the Bank of Ireland, except the room Avhere the House of Lords used to meet. That room is kept as Avhen formerly used, except that a statue of King George III. sits on the throne. Trinity College, commonly knoAvn as the L^niversity of Dublin, is situated at the head of the street called College Green, and immediately opposite the parliament building. As early as A. D. 1311 authority Avas given by Pope Clement V. for the establishment of this institution of learning. The college Avas founded under his successor. Pope John XXII., by Bicknor. Henry VIII. closed it; but Queen Elizabeth again 45 46 THE EMERALD ISLE. ordered it opened. It has received the endowments of several kings, as Avell as those of private persons of great wealth. The buildings are of stone and in the Corinthian st}de. It has a large dining-hall, library, geological museum, lecture- rooms, examination- rooms, dormitories, and other depart- ments. Here is the field' where the witty and sarcastic Dean Swift, the benevolent poet Oliver Goldsmith, the eloquent Burke, and the poet of Ireland, Thomas Moore, were educated and won their fair fame. The college-grounds embrace proba- bly ten acres. There ai'c dormitories for about two hundred and fifty students and for the ])rofes.«ors, who number about eighty, besides the “grinders.” It has an average attendance of about one thousand students. The library is a place of much interest, and contains over three hundred thousand volumes — no two alike. The college, like Oxford and Cam- bridge, is entitled by law to a copy of every book printed in the Cnited Kingdom. The library-room is two hundred and seventy feet long. Here I saw a copy of the Coverdale Bible, the first complete English Bible printed. This volume is worth eight thousand dollars. An edition of Shakespeare i.s here, published in 1664 — the first ever issued. There are many paintings of kings and queens, one of the most .strik- ing of which is a j^ainting of Elizabeth in the examination- room. In front of the college, as you enter, to the right, is what is cherished as a splendid work of art, a statue of Oliver Goldsmith, whose literary genius made him immortal. To the left is a like statue of Edmund Burke. A little Avay up College Green is an ecjuestrian statue of William of Orange, who defeated King .lames II. at the battle of the Boyne. It was erected in 1701. Near by is a statue of Thomas Moore, who was born in Dublin, May 28th, 1779, and who entered the college in 1794, and who died February 26th, 1852. Fartlier up the street is the monument to Lord Nelson, who won the battle of Trafalgar, and whose language to his soldiery is so often quoted — “England expects every man to do his duty to-day.” This monument is one hundred and thirty feet high. The Castle of Dublin is a place of interest, showing the PIIEXIX PARK 47 style of royalty in life. It is the residence of the lord-lieu- tenant, the highest officer in Irelaird. The curtains, paint- ings, and parlors are gorgeous indeed. The chapel, though plain externally, is within the most elaborately carved and beautiful church in Ireland. There are a number of old churches and cathedrals which I found marvels of interest, and so filled with statues and busts that I could hardly realize that I was not in another world. One of the oldest is the Cathedral of St. Patrick, where the Danes once had an idol-temple. Here St. Patrick erected a place of worship near the well where he baptized his first converts in the fifth century. The present building was begun in 1190, by Archbishop Comyn, and improved in 1370, after a partial burning. The church is a cruciform structure; and all the surroundings are made gloomy by the tablets and tombs of the dead. Here I stood at the grave of Dean Swift, the witty preacher, whose chequered life in some of its love affairs is a wild romance. Here ahso lies the dead dust of Archbishop Whately, the learned author, some of whose writings have gone into all countries with ministerial learning. The room is low down in the earth; and though with immensely high ceilings and extended transepts, it has nothing inspiring except the grandeur and elaboration of sculpture, carving, and art. I attended a Sabbath-morning service. The chanting of the liturgy occupied just one hour and a half, and the beautiful little sermon just twenty min- utes. The building was recently repaired by the late Sir B. L. Guinness, at a cost of over two hundred thousand pounds, or one million dcjllars. His greatest notoriety is his immense distillery-business, and liberality with ill-gotten gains. Phenix Park, celebrated as the scene of the murder of Lord Cavendish and Burke, is a vast tract of land, embracing one thousand, seven hundred and fifty acres. The constabu- lary, where the soldiers of the queen are quartered, is here; and it also contains a zoological garden. Its greatest attrac- tion is a splendid equestrian monument of the Duke of Wel- lington, whose fame has filled the world as the conqueror of 48 THE EMERALD ISLE. Napoleon at "Waterloo. Yet after all, the park is greatly lacking in beauty, being largely a great pasture-field. There are a number of Presbyterian and Methodist churches in the city. The Centenary Methodist Church has a prosper- ous college connected with it. Dublin was the home of the eloquent O'Connell, known as the liberator of Ireland. lie now sleejis in a vault in the cemetery, under a monument of great height. He died May loth, 1847, at Genoa, on his way to Rome; but his remains were not jfiaced in their present resting-place until 1869, when the monument was comifieted. The metallic casket in Avhich his du.st reposes is exposed to view in this deep vault; and thousands consider it a great privilege to place their hand on the coffin and bless the memory and dfist of O’Connell. From Dublin northward to the northern coast lies the best of Ireland. The land is fertile and well cultivated. Barley, flax, and oats are abundant. Everywhere great quantities of flax were sjiread in the fields, and the barley and oats are ready to harvest soon after the middle of August. I saw one reaper at work in a small field in Ireland; but besides that only the sickle and mowing-scythe were seen in harvesting. Men and women were at work in about equal numbers in tlie fields. I never saw an old man out digging potatoes without a woman helping him. The women must be good wives — very helpful and useful, as well as ornamental. Four hours’ travel from Dublin on tbe train brings the traveler to Enniskillen, which stands on an island in the connecting waters of the Upper and Lower Lough Erne. It has about five thousand people; and a physician of the town apologized for its not getting larger, upon the ground that it had no room to grow, as it had covered the island. Lough Erne is the largest fresh-water lake in Ireland, and is a delightful scene to take in by a pleasant boat-ride. It is varied in width from one to nine miles, while its length is not less than thirty. It is dotted over with islands, large and small, some cultivated, and others covered with shrubs, ivies, and evergreens. Its shores are not rugged and wild as those of the Lakes of Killarney; but the slopes rise more gently, ROMAXCES. 49 and the adjacent hills are covered with fields of grass and grain. There are several hundred of these beautiful islands, which are set like emeralds upon its glossy bosom. Lough Erne deserves to be celebrated in poetry and in song. A more delightful place I did not see in Ireland. All through the country are to be seen the ancient round towers, which attract attention. One of the first I saw was on the banks of Lough Erne. A number of others lie in view on the way to the North Atlantic. Of course, there is a history to every one of them, which some lad will detail for two pence, or which a boatman will be glad enough to interest you with for a half hour if you will in the end seem pleased, and give him sixpence. This is indeed a land of legends and romance; nor is it to be wondei’ed at. It is the land where royalty, religion, and superstition have fought some of their greatest and most memorable battles. But as to the towers; none may tell their uses and purposes in olden time. They are built of square stone, are from six to twelve feet in diameter, and from thirty to .seventy feet in height. They are as great a mystery as the mounds and mound-builders of our own country. Some sui)pose 'dhey were built centuries ago for astronomical i^urposes; .some suppo.se them to be the work of heathen architects, built in honor of idols and for worship; others suppose them to be monuments to mighty chieftains of the ancient tribes, wlio have been buried, j)os- sibly, beneath them. A more reasonable view, as it seems to me, is that they were designed as monuments to the dead of Christian times, and were erected by Christian hands. It is probable that they were built during the first centuries of the Christian era. I have seen a half dozen of them, and most of these stand near the ruins of an abbey. To this da}' the peasantry of the country, when their homes are invaded by death, bury their dead loved ones under the .somber shadows of these old abbey-ruins; and here the un- marked graves of the centuries await the blast of the trump of God, which .shall gather the scattered dust of the sleeping millions to the judgment-scene. “ Before him shall be gath- ered all nations.” ^ ClIAPTEK V. Londonderry — Its Siege — Jimies II. — William of Orange — Kev. George Walker, ronmiander — llis Monument — Battle of the Boyne — Port- rush — Dr. Clarke’s liirihplace — A 'I'rilmte — Giant’s Cansewaj^ — Bel- fast— The Irish Problem — Condition of the People — Ignorance — Priestcraft — Landlordism — No Kncouragement to Labor — Peat — Minerals — Parnell and the Agitation. fX tlie renowned Kiver Poyle is situated ihe hi.storic • old town of Londonderry, whose trials and <>'lory shall never fade from the })ages of history. It is a city and county, having been built by the citizens of London during the reign of James I. It now has about thirty I thousand inhabitants, having greatly outgrown its walls, which were built in its early history, and which embrace not more than one fourth of the present city. These walls are in a good state of pre.servation. A number of arches are formed so as to allow several i)asses in and out of the walled ])art. On Tuesday morning, August 23d, in company with Dr. Thompson, I enjoyed a walk before breakfast around the citv on these illu.strious walls. There is no place in Ireland where I so felt the pre.sence and power of history. On these old walls one remembers the siege of Londonderry, so often referred to by writers, and so deeply clu'onieled in the jiages of human history. The thought of the heroic struggles of the Protestants, who here, through months of indescribable aiuruish and woe, resi.sted the accursed siege of an ambitious Catholic king, rushed through me with th.e vividness of a present battle-scene. King James II. had forsaken the Prot- estant faith and emlrraced Catholicism; yet, ambitious to rule, he held on to the throne of a Protestant government. LL\: GLORGE WALKl'R. 51 Ilis son-in-law, 'William of Orange, called 'William III., Avho had married his oldest daughter, the ■\veei)ing hride Mary, was summoned from Holland to take the throne of England, which had been declared vacant by a majority of one vote at the convention of Lords and Common.s, James II. having fled from the country. The Irish throughout the island had determined to make an on.slaught upon Protestant London- derry and massacre all its inhabitants. Two companies of the Irish were on the opposite side of the Foyle, when only eight or nine heroic young men had the courage to close the entrances of the city when the soldiers were within sixty yards, and pressing for the gates. Helpless women and children pleaded and prayed, and a handful of strong men manned the guns, and fought at the walls and gates against the thousands of armed soldier}' under King James. II. That which is so peculiarly interesting in the.se historic events is the fact that the city was not commanded by a trained gen- eral, but by a clergyman. Rev. George Walker, who encour- aged the starving men and women, who were feeding upon scraps and hides, and the meat of dogs, to trust in God, who surely would send them deliverance. Although almost two hundred years ' have passed since that heroic struggle within these walls, it required no great imagination to look into these old houses and see again the anguish of homes where children died of starvation, and to look upon funeral scenes in the old plain Gothic cathedral, in which women .sorrowed for the dead, who had perished of starvation, but nut without ho]je, assured that they should “hunger no more.” In the old church there are many relics of the siege, such as battle-flags, etc. That which brings uj) these scenes is a monument, erected over fifty years ago, consisting of a Doric column, mors than a hundred feet in height, mounted with the statue of Rev. George Walker, standing on the walls of the city on the hill. A huge cannon stands on each of the sides. On the monument is the following inscription : “ To Rev. George Walker, who, aiJed by the garrison and brave inliab- itants of this city, most gallantly defended through a protracted siege — THE EMERALD ISLE. 52 namely, from December (ith, IGSS, O. 8., to August 12, following,— against an arbitrary and bigoted monarch, beading an armj' of upward of twenty thousand men, manj' of whom were for**ign mercenaiies. and by such valiant conduct in numerous sorties, and by jjatieutly enduring extreme privation and sutfering, successfully resisted the besiegers, and preserved for their posterity the blessings of civil and religious liberty.” It i.s a matter of regret that tins stone column is beginning to shoAv signs of decay. The memory of the heroes whose struggles it would perpetuate in the grateful affections of the people is more enduring than columns of brown stone or stat- ues of marble. With the coming of William, God brought deliverance. Less than a year after the lifting of the siege of Londonderry, William met King James II. on the Boyne with thirty thousand men, and defeated him on July 1st, 1690. But long, long ago these heroes and heroines of Londonderry have been at rest. Northward from Londonderry some hours’ travel is Cole- raine and Portrusli, the former on the River Bann and the latter on the North Atlantic. Half way between these towns, and jierhajis three miles from either, a humble cottage in the county, is the birthplace of the renowned Dr Adam Clarke, who.se ])ious and learned writings, especially those of his com- mentaries, have blessed so many ministers’ studies. The old home is still standing, though occupied by strangers. He has a better mansion. Here about Portrusli the ignorant and dull boy Clarke, Avhose teacher said he could never learn Latin, once went to school ; and here among these green hills of Ire- land he first felt the kindlings of a noble manhood, which when developed inspired the world. I must acknowledge how powerful and salutary were his writings upon my young mind and heart many years ago, when with anxious inquir- ies I turned for instruction to the word of God, whose pages were so marvelously sweet and dear, yet often so mysterious. The Avriter counts it a treasure greater than landed estates that his father owned and studied Clarke’s commentaries. There is an immortal value, and power for good or for evil in the first books Ave read. How dear they are to us ! How tender our hearts as they touch the scenes Avhere lived and GIAXT’S CAUSE WAY. Oo toiled their illustrious and renowned authors. In the town of Portrush is a very appropriate monument to the memory of Dr. Clarke, erected a few years ago by Dr Cother, deceased, of London. Eight miles on a wagonette from Portrush is the (Jiant’s Cau.seway, where Nature puts on her wildest mood. The peculiar honey -combed formations of basaltic rock have fur- nished illustrations for the book of geography for all times past. The visitor is disappointed at first. The rocks lack the grandeur and sublimity which he expects to meet. The rooks cover probably an area of five acres. The higher columns are about thirty feet high. The whole is a body of rock.s, higher and lower, completely honey-combed; or rather the rocks are shaped in the forms of the cells of a honey-comb, with crevices between them a quarter of an inch to an inch in size. The size of these columns standing side by side varie.s, but is usually about one foot in diameter. They have from four to seven sides, and the face of one is concave and that of another convex. They rnn back to the base of the heights of the adjoining hills, and down to the edge of the North Atlantic, and how far out under the waters I do not know. The tourist walks over the face of not less than forty thousand of these perpendicular columns, arranged to- gether with a beauty of design which suggests the skill of a great Artificer. The Avhole is one of nature’s greatest won- ders. It would seem that at some remote period those rocks were solid, and by some process of drying, or by the action of atmosphere or water, they were thus divided. But why divided in these strange forms, and with a uniformity found nowhere else on the globe, no scientist or learned person has yet told us. The city of Belfast contains about two hundred thou-sand people, two thirds of whom are Protestants. It is the only live town in Ireland, and the only town that is growing. Its streets are wide and clean, and its business houses arc like those of American cities. It is not an old town, but is splen- didly situated on the River Lagan, with a fine port, one hun- dred and thirty miles from Glasgow and one hundred and 54 THE EMERALD ISLE. fifty-six miles from Liverpool. In 1G12, BelList as a little village was given by James I. to Sir Arthur Chichester, the ancestor of the i)rcsent owner of the city, the Marquis of Donegal. "Were it not for some long leases, formerly granted, the annual income to tlic present owner from this city alone would be three hundred thoinsand pounds, or one million five hundred thousand dollars. There are more than one hundred ])laces of worship, thirty-four of which are Presbyterian, nine- teen Methodist, and nineteen Episcojml. The Presbyterians and the Methodists have splendid institutions of learning. The blood of the Scotchman commingles largely with the Irish in the veins of this industrious and thrifty people. I shall close this chapter and the first part of this volume with a few pages upon the Irish people and the perplexing problem which will remain yet unsolved when a score of years have passed. Tliis is indeed a question which most deeply interests the entire civilized world. Ireland is a land of verdure, flowers, and donkey-carts; a land of ragged, hearty, and dirty children; a land of land- lords, poverty, wealth, potatoes, and beggars; a land of anti- equated walls and shades, and a land of castles and huts. The peoqole of Ireland are half freemen and half slaves. They are partially ruled by the English crown, — one of the noblest governments under heaven, — and largely by the dominion of landlords, who own their qrresent possessions b}' acts of confis- cation in former times. The peasantry of a large part of Ireland are the lui]q)iest people on God’s green earth. They have nothing, really seem to want nothing, and are too lazy to try to get anything. They are given to legends, whisky, dirt, and Catholicism. They are in the bondage of poverty, filth, landlords, and ignorance; and, worse than all, they are under the tyranny of a drunken, lazy, and intolerant qrriest- hood. In northern Ireland, Avhere Protestantism has a jDrevailing influence and power, there is thrift; and many homes in the rural parts somewhat resemble those of America. But even hero there is much qioverty. I dare not, indeed I can not, COM)JTIOX OF TIIK PEOPLE. 65 give the reader a true ])icture of the condition of the peo]de in all the great southern portion of this country. The whole land is inhahited l>y the poore.st of the poor. The people live in small huts, which have no compartments, and arc without lloors, except what nature gave. There are few articles of furniture; and these could only be called sucli for want of a name to describe tliem. The houses are built of stone, and covered Avith slate, straw, or tiling. In the one room of the house they all live together. Besides this, chickens, pigs, goats, and cows are quartered in the same room. Through the middle of tlie room they dig a trench ; on the one side are the quarters of the family, and on the otlier are those of the goat, the cow, and the donkey. If by chance, as is sometimes the case, there he a separate building on the j^i’emises for a stable, it Ss immediately in front of the dwelling, at a dis- tance of ten or fifteen feet away. In forty-nine cases out of fifty there is a large compost j)ile within five feet of the door of the house. It is impo.s.sihle to picture the ragged, dirty beings who inhabit these horrid places. Yet such is southern Ireland. Xor is a large portion of the towns much better than Avhat has been described. The ])eople, however, seem hearty, and the cheeks of the children, through the dirt, show signs of good health. Besides this, the people are largely given to drinking. I did not see many persons beastl}' or dead drunk ; but it really seems that all the people, men and Avomen, are drunken. In some of the towns almost everybody, high and low, old and young, male and female, Avere half intoxicated. Their high- est ambition is to have some of the “ crathur.” They are cursed Avith a religion Avhich to them is practically a su- perstition, and nothing more. There is nothing elevating or ennobling in it to them. It checks them in no vice and encourages them in no virtue, except as it does so through superstitious beliefs. Catholicism and the priestcraft Avish to keep the peojAle in ignorance. They can control them only by .so doing. Let enlightenment come and the poAver of the priest is broken. THE EMEUALD JSLE. oG The people are cursed with church-holidays. These inter- fere with their labor, and arc occasions for drunkenness. Then, added to this, there is the landlordism of Ireland, which must forever be its baneful curse as long as it con- tinues. English and Irish landlords own the country. The poor peasantry, ajiparentiy enfeebled by years of poverty and pleasure, seem to have been contented for it to be so until I'iOw. If the lands were taken from these landlords and dis- tributed among the pea.«ants, with their i)rcsent character, religion, and habits, they would luirdly have a morsel of them in five years. What improvement miglit be wrought among them I may not conjecture. The land is rented to the people at prices as great as or greater than the purchase-price of like lands in the United States. Let a man toil ever so hard, and suffer ever so bravely, there is no hope of a slielter for his family when he is dead. Every year thousands and millions of dollars are carried over to England to enrich the coffers of the land-owners. Even an Irish landlord can liardly be said to live in Ireland. If he builds a castle he purchases the matcvi.il (save the stone) in England, and hires his mechanics and artists in London or Paris. He does not spend liis monev in Ireland; he buys in England or Scotland, and lives in one of these countries much of his time. There is no money spent by him in Ireland for anything. Xo buildings are being erected. Ireland is every year fleeced as a farmer clips the Avool from his flocks; but it is never fed. Of cour.se, I do not assert that these dukes and landlords are all bad men. Some of Oiem are men of eminent learning and gentilitA’. But the system of landlording must, in its princijAles of gov- ernment, alAA'ays be a detriment to the country. There must be something Avhich Avill induce the OAvners of estates to im- prove them, and give the best conditions of life to the inhab- itants of a country, if there is to be prosperity. The laAvs of the land must be such as to encourage the people living on the soil to OAvn the ground, as it is tlieir God-giA'en right to do, if the higher prosperity is to be realized. Any country that is made merely the market-place of another, as Ireland PARXELL AXD THE AGITATION. 57 is of England, must become poorer and poorer as the j'ears go by. There is money enough going out of Ireland, for rents to owners abroad, to buy in a short time the lands of tlie country and give them to the peasants as homesteads. IIow tlie peo- jdc are to be elevated from their present low state and lifted out of their poverty and superstition, is tlie saddest conun- drum of the age. The feeling against the landlords among the pea.saucry is bitter. The agitation led by IMr. Parnell and others, and or- ganized in the Land -League, tends to increase this. The league receives and expends in Ireland not less than twenty- five thousand dollars per month. The most of this is con- tributed by foreign countries, only one and a half per cent being raised, in Ireland. This money is used to carry on the agitation, and to furnish temporary homes for families evicted from their tenantries by landlords because of their failure to pay the rents. Much of this work is highly humane. Yet the same thing has practicall}' encouraged revolt and boycot- ting,— that is, preventing any person from going on a farm from which one has been evicted, — and has in many cases led to the cruel murder of landlords. The league is not in itself a secret society ; yet it is shrewdly suspected that there is within it a secret society which has communication with the Fenian.s. The population of Ireland is yearly decreasing and its wealth dci^leting. Its people are now, in a large dis- trict of country, living from the patronage of English and American travelers. Much of Ireland is really poor soil, though a delicious cli- mate prevails. There are few minerals. Peat, or turf, is sub- stituted for coal. This is a vegetable compound, found in great quantities in the low-lands, and even in the marshes of the •mountains, and is cut out in blocks or squares the size of a brick, and, when dried, burns very well. With all this, there is a generosity, a blithesomeness, a virtue both in men and women, a wit, and a politeness about these people which can never be forgotten. There is a beauty in their country which causes one to love the God of nature 58 THE EMERALD ISLE. more. May he give this “Emerald Isle” a better day. May Protestant Christianity and freedom cover the land, and its people eat of the fruit of the soil. May the dominion of the pope and priest cease among them forever. “ Thus shall memory often, in dreams sublime, Catch a glimpse of the days that are over; Thus singing, look through the waves of time For the long-faded glories they cover.” HUSH UONKBV PART SECOND. SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. CHAPTER I. Scotland — Size — Climate — Xortli Clianncl — Greenock — Grave of “High- land Mary ” — Glasgow — Population — Statues — Residences — First Steamer, the “Comet,” — The Clyde — Cathedral — Visit to Ayr — Burns’ Character, Writings, Home, and Relatives. O laud is more romantic or more celebrated in history ll and song than Scotland, the northern and smallest division of the island of Great Britain. It is pict- uresque in landscaj^es, rugged in its higldand mount- ains, rich in mineral resources, sturdy in j)opulation, cnteiqjrising in manufactories and eommeree. Lying near to England and more nearly allied to tlu' government, it jxjssesseS great advantages over many otlier parts of the royal queen’s dominions. Scotland is only about two hun- dred and eighty-seven miles long, and its greatest width not more than two hundred and sc'venteen miles. It is so pene- trated and channeled by arms of the sea tliat tlie farthest points from the shore are less than forty miles, exeej)t in one spot. Of the nineteen million acres of land, less than one third is arable. The land is famous for its beauty of lakes and rugged mountains. At the close of August the harvest ■was not yet ripe; and fii-e in the room was needed to keep an American warm. When the weather is fine and the sea calm it is a splendid passage one makes from Belfast on the eastern coast of Ireland f)9 GO SroTLAXD AXn EXGLAXD. to Greenock on the western coast of Scotland. Your steamer seems for hours to creep along the coast of Ireland, and then boldly strides across North Channel to the mouth of the River Clyde. If the channel is rough there is much danger of sea- sickne.ss; but otherwi.se the trip is romantic. Of course the Clyde, up which you sail .so proudly between the grand old hills of Scotland, at w'hose base great towns and cities nestle, is in reality an arm of the sea, and its waters salt as those of tlie ocean. Greenock is a fine business city, but noted most on account of its vast ship-building. Burns’ “ Highland Mar}’,” to whom he ])aid his sweetest verse, is buried here. M’hat a fascination and charm the genius of poetry throws around a hnmlde Scottish peasant-girl. An hour on the train from Greenock brings the traveler to Glasgow, which in the most modern sense is a business place, with a population of nearly eight hundred thousand people. It has much of industrial and social intere.st — indeed, vastly more than any cil}’ in Scotland, though less of the historic. It is the third city in the United Kingdom, and has immense manufactories of almost every kind. Chief among these are the navy-yards, wliere are made tlie ships which go down into the great seas. The residences of the city are in man}' portions very splen- did indeed. Vast terraces and crescents of dwellings, most tastefully fronted with parks and lawns, meet tlie eye of the visitor. George's Square, in the central part of the city, has an excellent eipiestrian statue of her majesty (^ueen Victoria, also statues of Walter Scott, Campbell, Sir .John Moore, Lord Clyde, and others, including a bronze figure of James Watt, who began his experiments with steam in 1763, and by whose faithful study and genius, combined with those of Mr. Henry Bell, tlie first .steamer ever launched in Europe was set afloat in the River Clyde in 1812. It was called the “Comet,” and had an engine of three-horse power. It began its career, Jan- uary 18th, 1812, and plied between Greenock and Glasgow. There are a number of institutions of learning at Glasgow, of great prominence, the principal being the New University Gl.ASUOW. 61 of Scotliind, the coruer-Ktoue of whieh was laid by the Prince of Wales, October, 1868. The immensity of the structure must be imagined from the statement that the floor covers about six acres. It bas ninety-eight departments of in.struction, and each chair its recitation-room and retiring-room. The uni- versity has been in operation about eleven years. It is indeed a magnificent institution. The city has about seventy-five churches belonging to the estal)lishcd church of Scotland, and about the same number owned by the Free Church of Scot- land, and two thirds as many, at least, belonging to the United Presbyterian, a dozen to the Episcopal Church, and about the same to the Catholics, with Cougregationalist.s, Baptists, and Methodists eacli from ten to twenty churches, while nearly fifty houses of worship) belong to minor bodies. Historically, the most interesting structure in Glasgow is the cathedral. It is a massive, gloomy building, over three hundred feet long, with eight transepts, which have never been completed. The cathedral was founded under David 1., in 1133, upon the same site occupied by the structure built by St. Mungo, five hundred years earlier. For four hundred years it was the place where Catholics worshijied; and many are the prelates and men of renown whoso ashes lie under its stone floors. Upon the restoration of the episcojjacy it became the heritage of the Episcopal Church. But when the Presby- terian Church became established in Scotland its ministers entered the old pulj3it. It is owned by the crown of En- gland, and is supported by the government. Its choir or chancel has' sittings only for about five hundred pensons. It is more for the dead than for the living. The walls are filled with memory tablets; and some of the relics of the old build- ing, erected in the fifth century, are in the chapter-room. On an eminence just a little way from the cathedral is the ne- cropolis of Gla.sgow, where sleep its dead. Many monuments are planted upon this hill, the most conspicuous of which is a colossal statue of John Knox, the Scotch reformer. The city of Glasgow is supjjlied with splendid water brought from Lake Katrine, which has a deep literary halo about it 62 SCOTLAXD AXD EXGLAXD. from the writings of Sir Walter Scott, who has done so much for the poetry and delight of his native land. On Thursday morning, August 25th, eight of our company took train for Ayr, forty miles south-west of Glasgow, the town and shire made immortal in fame by having been the home of the greatest of the Scottish poets, Robert Burns. Burns was not in evety way the greatest poet of Scotland; yet he put Scotland and its life, its customs, its heart, its fol- lies and its vices, its love and its beauties, and its shame as well, into poetry and song as no man ever has done. He was the poet of the people. He is the only poet who came uji from such unlearned paths to be — though allowed to languish in poverty and shame during his life — the admiration of the most learned and gifted men of the world. He put wisdom into a marvelous nut-shell — for he burned with indignant fire — when he wrote — “ The rank is but the guinea’s stamp, A man’s the gowd for a’ that.” The poems of Burns breathe the sighs, the love, the passions of the himiau heart all the world over as none other have ever dor.e. Christian people are too well acquainted tvith the life he at times led. They know too well how evil associa- tions and evil passions often controlled him. The world has in the main been quite charitable enough in its treat- ment of the character and life of Burns; and yet it knows well enough the need of charity, which in this case has cov- ered a multitude of sins. The lack of early Christian influ- ences and training, and the later influence of the gatherings of the Masonic lodge and otlier clubs and fellowships are the causes which led a great genius to such paths as virtuous and sober mortals shun. Yet Burns had a heart broad and deep. In his hand he held the harp which wakes often tire tenderest and noblest feelings of the heart of humanity. Al- beit not all his verse is worthy; for often when he would reach the depths of the human heart he stirs the devil up and puts him at business. Your mother may have sometimes ROBERT BURNS. 63 been bad in temper and. sometimes harsh in Avords and re- proof, but the good so far outweighs the evil that the evil is forgotten. You deem it a pleasure and a dpty to cover up the bad and immortalize the good. And thus it is tliat a human heart owes something to genius, and loves to honor God and pay it. A few miles from Ayr, a city with over forty thousand inhabitants, stands by the road-side the humble cottage in Avhich, on the 25th of January, 1750, Robert Burns, tl;e familiar poet of Ayrshire, was born. The clay and stone floor, the 11 re-place and the oven, are as a hundred or more years ago. The humble, .short bed still stands in the niche in the wall where the poet first lay on the bosom of maternal love. The table of Burns, the clock, and other relics of the family are to be seen. Here also maj' be seen copies of his poem “Tam O’Shanter,” in his own handwriting. The house is indeed a humble one, with low ceiling and roof of straw.. On an eminence to the left of the road, going from the old home of Burns toward the “ Bonn}' Boon,” stands a splendid monument to Burns, erected over sixty years ago. In its chamber below are also many interesting relics, among which is the identical Bible given by young Burns to his “ Highland Mary,” the parting from whom he has so touch- ingly put in verse, and to whose departed memory he gives his SAveetest and choicest poem. There is also here a marble bust and a splendid oil-painting of the poet, Avith other paintings. The road has evidently been changed; but its old course is easily traced, along Avhich “ Tam skelpit on through dub .and mire, Despising wind and rain and fire.” “Kirk AlloAvaA',” “ Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry,” is yet standing, though the roof is entirely gone. The Avails, erected in 1516, are yet strong; and the little bell hangs in the stone frame, though it has long cea.sed to be used. Around the Kirk AlloAvay lie many of the dead of the past century, among whom in front of the kirk are the father and mother and sister of Burns. Beyond the kirk nearly tAVO hundred Gl S('OrLAXI) AND ENGLAND. yards is the old bridge where Tam O’Shanter crossed the Doou as he fled from the witches at the kirk, and where “ The Carlin ciauglit her by the rump, And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.” • Across the River Ayr, in the city, are to be seen “The Brigs of Ayr,” which in one of Burns’ host ^loems are made to speak so Avittily and tvisely. Burns tvrote poetry founded on realities. He took nature and painted its likeness. lie made the hills which smile so sweetly, and these houses and kirks and brigs, and the Boon, to sjAeak tvith language which has immortalized the poet and the scenes of his life; and as he wrote of the departed “High- land Hary,” “ still o’er these scenes my mem’ry Avakes, And fondly broods with miser care; Time but the impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deejjer wear.” In “auld Ayr, wham ne’er a town surpasses,” is yet, as in the time of “Tam O’Shanter” and “ Souter Johnny,” the inn Avhere “ they had been fou’ tvecks thegither,” and tvhere still the landlord and the modern “ Tams ” grow “ gracious.” I was inquisitively foolish enough to go in and examine the rooms, but did not remain long. The country about the early home t of Burns is delightful, and such as tvould inspire a poet. Yet it is a mystery that one born and reared so humbly should so strike the harp of ages. But it is as he said, “ The Poet Genius of my country found me, as the projAietic bard, Elijah, did Elisha, — at the ploAV, — and threw her inspiring mantle over me. She bade mo sing the loves, the joys, the rural pleasures of my native soil, in my native tongue; I tuned my Avild, artless notes as she inspired.” Tavo maiden nieces of Burns, Agnes and Isabella Begg, daughters of his younger sister, live in the neighborhood, and are, so far as I know, bis nearest relatives living. They are pleasing and entertain- ing old ladies, having reached the time usually allotted to human life. They Avere glad to Avelcome Americans to their ROBERT BURNS. 65 I'ozA’ home for a season ; and one of them replied to some words of ours, “ Nowhere is Burns more loved than in Amer- ica.'’ They are spoken of as very benevolent and kind to the j)Oor. Burns has loft a fascination and charm about Ayr and along tlie banks of the “ Bonny Boon.” Alas! how depraved a genius can be. I only wisli that what Burns wrote in his “Address to the Devil ” may have been true : “ And now, Auld Cloots, I ken ye’re thinkin’, certain bardie’.s rantin’, drinkin’, Some luckless hour will send him linkin’ To your black pit; But, faith! he’ll turn a corner jinkin, And cheat you yet.” BIRTHPLACE OF ROBERT BTJRNS.-See page 63. “ But pleasures are like poppies spread. You seize the flower, its bloom is shed ; Or like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white — then melts lorever; Or like the borealis race. That flits e’re you can point the place; Or like the rainbow’s lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm.” Robert Burns died at Dumfries, Scotland, July 21, 1796. CHAPTER II. Higlilaiuls of Scotland — Lake Katrine— Sterling — Tlie Castle— Bannock- burn Battle-tield — Robert tbe Bruce — Knox’s Old Pulpit — Murder of I'liirl of Douglas — Virgin Martyrs — The Cathedral — Guild Hall — Iturvitig tlie Dead — Scottisli Cliaracter — Wit. HE Higbltimls of Scotliind have Iteen made illustrious and immortal in poetry, history, and romance. I had longed to look upon these inspiring and beauty- decked mountains and lakes. Did they make Wtilter Scott, or was it his genius which threw over them tlieir immortal charm? One day took our company over Loch Lomond, the pride of Scotland, girt about with rugged mount- ains covered with heather and evergreen. The highest jieak about the lake rises over three thousand feet high, at the craggy base of which is the prison of Rob Roy. All about us were “ Those emerald isles which calmly sleep, On the blue bosom of the deep.” From Inversnaid the journey was made over lofty mount- ain-heights in a huge wagon, clratvn by four great Scotch horses. The scenery in these highlands is romantic and pict- uresque beyond description. Ear off to the right and left were vast flocks of sheep, which range over the immense pasturage; here and there a humble but lU'at cottttge. The cascades, amid depths and heights covered with ferns and heather, present a pictu’"e for the artist or the poet. Six miles over these heights and you are at the head of Lake Katrine, the scene of the “ Lady of the Lake,” by Walter Scott. I had not knowm that this time-worn and Avorld-honored poem so minutely describes the hills, shores, and island of Katrine. 66 ROBERT THE BRUCE. ^ ( The mountains are a little steep for Scott’s stranger to ride down ; but the poet’s imagination must have reasonable play- and then the story makes the steed fall dead. Lake Katrine is about ten miles long and two wide. Our boat sailed nicely around “ Ellen’s Isle,” where “ For retreat in liangerous liour, tSome chief liad framed a mj’stic Uower.” One could almost see Ellen rowing the boat, and hear her voice from the thick foliage, saying, “ On heaven and on tliy lady call, And enter tlie enchanted hall.” And still Ellen sings, “ Soldier, rest ! TI13' warfare o’er, Sleep the sleep that knows no breaking ; Dream of battle-fields no more — Daj’s of danger, nights of waking.” By wagons our company crossed the Trosachs Mountains (Bristled Territory) thirteen miles, and took cars for Ster- ling, the old capital of Scotland. I had over a hundred miles’ travel in the Highlands of Scotland, and was pleased to cross again the river Forth, which, by an old saying, “ Bridles the Wild Highlander.” It was a splendid, bright morning that welcomed our com- pany to Sterling Castle, the ancient home of illustrious kings and queens. You gradually ascend a steep road under the shadow of a great wall, from twenty to thirty feet high on the north, while on the south are rocky precipices reaching down hundreds of feet. At last you are within the outer wall of protection, and are in front of a statue on which you read, “King Robert — the Bruce, June 24th, 1314.” Then crossing the draw -bridge over the deep moat, you pass through the gateway under the inner wall, beneath which kings, queens, and princes were wont to pass from the earliest history of Scotland. Another wall is passed through, and then another, when you are in the lower square. To the right is the grand battery. There, looking out over the valleys below, are those GS SCOTLAXB AXD FXOLAXD. old cannon whose sounds once tliundered forth the terror of armies. They are old death -monitors which spoke at the voice of kings. To secure ])ossession of this castle the might- iest monarchs on these islands fought with j)owerful armies. Under the.se walls, Edward and Robert Bruce, whose history reads almost like mythology, fouglit the greatest battles of Scotland. It remained fbr Cromwell to lav it in the heritage of the English crown. Here the Stuart line of kings de lighted to dwell. Here .Tames II. and James V. were born. It is the scene of the fears, the loves, and the tragedies of powerful kings. To the left is the old “Palace Royal” — a giant structure of .stone which has defied the destruction of centuries. In the center is the “Lion's Den,’’ a hollow, oblong .s(piare, al)out fifty l)y seventy-five feet, in which James III. had lions confined for his amusement. About it are cells and heavy walls, showing how securely prisoners might be con- fined, where they could hear the roar of the ravenous beasts. Many scenes here such as this give to one's conception a sad comment on the character of many of the ancient kings. Surely, the world is growing better. From the Palace Royal the access is easy into the upper square, which must embrace nearly half an acre. To the right is the parliament liouse, and in front of this, Chapel Royal. To the left is the Douglas Room, which is a kind of museum. Passing between the chapel and Douglas Room you have reached the garden, and to the right may ascend the terrace, and looking to the right northward, far over the valley below, is the field over which the armies of Sir William Wallace and the Earl of Surrey, of England, in 1297, met in awfid conflict. On a lofty eminence rises the Wallace ^Monument to the height of two hundred and twenty feet. Here, too, is in sight the Sterling Abbey and the memorial tomb of King James III., and his queen, Margaret of Denmark. Their tomb was iden- tified in 1864, when a search was instituted in the old abbey. Thus is it that under the shadow of the palace of royal splen- dor there is always a tomb. Farther to the Avest are the beau- tiful plains where the Duke of Argyll fought with the Earl of MVRDKR OF EARL OF DOUGLAS. 69 Marvis, in 1715. Passing around to the southern side of the gardei\ ui^on the terrace, the eye rests upon the Royal Gar- dens, still kept in the form of olden times, where sports were made for the king and his court, while he witli his royal women could look down upon it from the terrace more than three hundred feet almo.st perpendicular. On this south terrace-wall is a hole about four inches in diameter, at which Mary, Queen of Scots, the last royal Scottish (pieen, used to look out upon the royal games and sports in the garden below. I stooped down and took a peep througli the same orifice in the stone. Farther away over the valley toward the sunrising is the field of Bannockburn, in which, in June, 1314, Robert Bruce, with thirty thou.«and soldiers of Scotland, met Edward II. at the liead of the English army numbering one hundred thousand men of war, of whom history records that thirty thousand fell in one day by the sword of the Highlanders. But looking out over these fields dotted with skirts of forests, presenting one of the most delightful if not the grandest landscape view of Scotland, one is wont to forget the scenes and memories of conflict and death. "We live in better days. A city of beauty is at our feet ; and far to the north are the highlands of Scotland, and southward the valleys ready to yield their luxuriant harvest. Xow, this is a blessed as well as beautiful land; but for centuries its valleys and mount- ains ran with the blood of many a battle. In the Douglas Room of the castle is the rude oak pulpit which used to stand in the Chapel Royal, from which Knox sometimes used to preach more than three hundred years ago. From it Patrick Galloway preached upon the occasion of the baptism of Henry, — on the 30th of August, 1594. It is of split oak, about two feet wide and three and a half feet long. A few steps below, in a small room, I stood in the identical chamber where James II. murdered William, earl of Douglas. He had brought him to the castle under a safe conduct, and wished William to break an alliance with some of James’ enemies. After all entreaties proved futile, James said to him, “ If thou wilt not break the bond, this will,” and 70 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. thrust his dagger to tlie heart of William. Some of the nobles then threw the body out of a small window into the garden, where it was reported to liave been buried, a state- ment which was confirmed by the exhuming of a human skeleton in 1797. Horrible feelings crept over me as I stood in tliis dingy chamber and thought of the bloody scenes en- acted there centuries ago, -by those long, long ago j)a.ssed into the eternal unseen. Thrones are sometimes built upon bell as a foundation, and the blood of victims cries out from tbe deserted habitations of kings. Passing out from this spot, so profound in its impressions and awful in its historic associa- tions, I visited the burying -grounds below. Here sleep un- numbered generations of the dead. Here is an enduring monument to the martyrs of the Reformation. Here are also splendid statues of Knox, Melvin, and Henderson. Near to the old cathedral is a .statue of James Guthrie, the martyr who labored well in this old church for many years, and paid the price at Edinburgh, June 1st, 1661. But I env}' not the heart of one who could pass without emotion the delicate and beautiful monument erected to the Virgin Mart}’rs. It is indeed a beautiful work of art, and commemorates a splen- did but sad instance of heroism in which Margaret l\Iach- lochlan and ^largaret "Wilson suffered death by drowning in the Solway, May 11th, 16S5, rather than deny their Lord. In the marble below the glass covering which shelters the three marble forms is the following inscription : M.VRO.VRET. Virgin Martyr of the Ocean AVave, with her like-minded sister .VGXES. Love many waters can not quench — God saves His chaste imperiled one in covenant true. O Scotia’s daughter, earnest scan the page, And prize this flower of good, blood-bought for you. PS.4LMS IX. — XIX. The inscrijition on the .slab below tells the history of this martyrdom jierhaps better than I could })ut it in my own words. “Through faith Margaret Wilson, a youthful maiden, GUILD HALL. 71 chose rather to depart and he with Christ than to disown his holy cause and covenant, to own Erastian usurpation and conform to j)r(daey enforced by cruel laws. Bound to a stake within flood-mark of the Solway tide, she died a martyr's death on the 11th of May, 1685.” The monument presents in clear, white marble two gentle sisters in youth studying the word of God. By their side kneels a lamb, while behind them is the form of an angel with the laurel in hand ready to be placed uj)on their triumphant brow. The marble has the delicacy and finish of wax, and tells a story of devotion to Christ Avhich softens the heart. Here in this land of martyrs there now stands the most striking, delicate, and enduring monument to their glory. These scenes reminded me of the words of the apostle, “ And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment: they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword : they wandered about in sheep- skins and goat-skins; l>eing destitute, afflicted, tormented; of whom the world was not worthy : they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.” Near by is file cathedral, a grand old stone structure, dating from the fourteenth century. It has two chancels — the east and the west. In the former of these James VI. was crowned in 1567, John Knox preaching on tlie occasion. The stout box- seats look as if they may have been there half a thousand years. Near the church is Guild Hall, founded by John Cow- ane as a lios))ital. Tlie hall contains many interesting relics. The following inscription is seen over the door to the hall: “This Hospital was larfjeh’ provyded by John Cowane Deane of Gild for the Entertainment of Decayed Gild Breither. John Cowane. I was hnngrie and ye gave me meate I was thirstie and ye gave me drinke I was a stranger and ye tooke me in Naked and ye clothed iiie I was sicke and 3’e visited me Matt. XXV. 35.” During my sojourn in Ireland .and Scotland I often had oc- 72 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. casion to contrast the inetliods and customs of those countries Avith those of our own America. Sketches so hasty as these could not venture a description such as I should like to fur- nish. I can only sketch here and there a place of antiquity and now and then draw a picture. B(‘ing anxious to observe the rites paid to the dead, I at- tended several funerals. The burial of the dead is sad enough at best, and the manner of its performance in these lands renders it still more dismal. The hearse is usually clos(>d up, so as to prevent the sight of the coffin. The hear.se, which is black, is overspread with nine great black plumes, two feet in diameter. This is drawn l>y black horses. In one of the cities in Ireland I saw the horses drawing the hearse entirely covered with black velvet. No one can imagine the spectacle a procession forms thus headed and joined by carriages all covered with mourning. The coffin is covered with black. Women do not go to the grave, and relatives of the deceased do not attend at the burial. There are no exercises whatever at the grave, except in Catholic burials. The coffin being lowered, some grass is thrown upon it as a covering, and the grave is then filled up, without a word of song or a breath of prayer. The Scotchman is a strong character. A stout physique, a. lordly bearing, and a sturdy morality and firm faith have so impressed the world that in our own America any man is proud if he can trace in his veins a ruddy droj) of Scottish blood. This sturdy force and orderly life is the ja-oduct of clear, strong ideas, and suffering to maintain them. Htill, the reader should not infer that these stout Presbyterian pietists are free from the spice of wit or the enjoyment of the humor- ous. Yet Scotchmen do not parade wit as a public show. They cherish a high regard for clergymen ; but their stout natures prefer extemj)oraneous to manuscript })n‘aching. The story is told of Dr. Thomas Blackloek, the poet, that when he Avas preaching a trial sermon at a certain place an old lady Avho sat on the pulpit stairs inquired of one near her whether the doctor was a reader. The lady answered, '• He canna be a SCOTTISH WIT. 73 reader, for he's blin.” The answer from the old lady on the steps was quickly returned, “ I am glad to hear it ; I wish they were all blin.” A good story is told by Paxton Hood of the wit of a staunch supporter of a Scottish preacher, who one day attended the j)arson from the kirk to the manse. The minister, seeing his attendant smiling, said to him, “What makes you laugh, James? It is un.seemly. What amuses yo\i ? ” “Oh, naething, jjarticular,” said James; “I was only thinking o’ something that ha])pened this forenoon.” “Tell me what that ’was,” said the preacher. “Well, minister, dinna he angry wi’ me; but ye ken the congregation here are whiles nae plea.sed to get anld sermons fra’ you ; and this morning I got the better o’ the kirk se.s.sion, any way.” “How was that, James?” “Deed, sir, when we come out o’ the kirk this morning I kenna wdiat they ’svere a thinking ; and says I, ‘ Eh, but ye canna ca’ that an auld sermon this day, for its not above sax weeks since ye heard it last.’ ” CHAPTER III. Edinburgh — Monuments — Edinburgh Castle — Room of Mary — Holy- rood Palace — Murder of Rizzio — Home of Knox — Grave of Knox — His Character — Martyrs — Abbotsford — Labors of Scott — Vale of the Tweed — Scott’s Grave at Dryburgh Abbej' — Melrose Abbey — Fare- well to Scotland. jOWHERE on the globe is tliere ;i fairer city than Edinburgh, at once the Athens and Jerusalem of Scotland. There are cities mightier for their com- merce, and of surpassing numbers; hut in culture, antitpiity, sacred associations, morality, :ind religion it stands tvith scarcely a rival. God planted the foundations “in towering strength and surpassing beauty.’’ Its three hills, like pillars of might to adorn the softer beauty of tlie valley, give it a majesty which has been crowned with the jiresence of godliness and the fascination of art. It was once tlie scene of martyrdom for the cause of Christ ; and tlie guillotine is yet to he seen in the Antiquarian Museum, which fell with its weighted knife on the devoted necks of the martyred C'ov- enanters. It is with a strange ])ain of heart one looks upon the covenants signed with the blood of the Covenanter.-^, and then upon the thumb-screw, so often used in the torture of the Covenanters, and which King William declared Avould extort any secret from any man. Now, Edinburgh rejoices in the triumph of religious freedom and in the culture of character, arts, and science, which Protestantism always produces and fosters. Edinburgh is both ancient and modern, having an old and a new part, which are divided by a beautiful valley. This is ilecorated on either side of the great railway and station with gardens of Howers and delightful grassv plats. St. Prin- 74 EDINBURGH CASTLE. cess Street, on the south of the inov part of the. city, overlook- ing tlie valley and the older i)ortion of the city, is the most l)eautiful and delightful in its fronting one could wish. Close l)y the gardens of the street is the monument of Sir Walter Scott, reported to be the finest in the world The design is that of a monumental cross, Avith the central tower su})- j)orted by four arches. Its top, which is tAvo hundred feet high, is easily reached by a stainA'ay. It was founded forty years ago. Its architect Avas a young man, George M. Kemp, Avhose excessive devotion to the production caused his un- timely death at his OAvn hands. The structure was completed, as it now stands, in 1847, and cost seventy-eight thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars. The marble statue of Scott under tbe central arcli, from the hand of Mr. .John Steell, presents him in great force and l)eauty, and cost over ten thousand tlollars. The niches of the monument are filled Avith marble figures of tbe heroes of Scott. On the same street, a little Avest, is a bronze statue of the giant Professor Wilson (Christo- ])her North). Farther on is a marble statue of Ramsay, the ])oet. There are also other splendid statues on the street, among AA'hich is a bronze equestrian statue of the dirke of Wellington. In George’s Square is an eejnestrian statue of Prince Albert, AA'hile on Barton Hill is a statue of Burns. Edinburgh Castle staads at the Avest of the city, uj)on a I'ock several hundred feet high. In its structure it largely resend)les Sterling Castle, and its history embraces many of the illustrious names Avhich are connected AA'ith it. The CroAvn-room contains the Scottish croAvn, SAA'ord, and scc])ter, Avith other treasures of royalty. They are s(‘veral hundred years old, and never Avere really AA'orth very much, though they Avere alAA'ays highly jn-ized e\'en as now. The room of (^ueen ^larv is shown, Avhere .James VI., the last king of Scotland, and the first king in Avhose dominion England and Scotland Avere united, AA'as born in 1-566. Tbe rooms are small and dingy. The highest point in the castle is Margaret’s Chapel, the date of Avhich seems to be fixed as early as the eleA’enth century. It has but one recommendation — it is near to 7G SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. heaven. in front of its entranee is a hnge cannon, calleil “Mons Meg.” Its inontli is about twenty-one inches in • liaineter. It is stated l)v tlie inscription on tire carriage that it was in the Durabartoii siege in 14S9, and at Xorliam in 1497. Much of this castle dates from the twelfth century, hike that .of Sterling, it is usc'd as barracks for soldiers. A ])lace of much greater royal interest is known as Holy- ro(Ml Palace, the home of more Scottish roj’alty than any other place in Scotland. It calls David I. its founder, and its his- tory dates Ijaek to 1128. Queen Mary's apartments, Avhich are the most interesting to visitors, were built probably by Ja.mes V. The portrait-gallery is about one hundred and fifty feet long, and contains oil-portraits of kings, j)rinces, queens, and prince.sses. Among the most interesting of the.se are Queen Mary, James III., and his queen, Margaret of Den- mark. The apartments of Queen Mary here remain in some respects as when she left them. This is true of the audience-chamber, with its old chairs, and the bed-room with the old bed and bed-clothing, and the little baby-basket sit- ting by the side. Here om? is reminded of the bloody scene which occurred in 1560, Mary was shrewdly suspected of being too intimate with Rizzio, a French music-teacher, of whom Lord Darnlej", her husband, became jealous. It will illustrate to the reader the method of adjusting the jealous royal family grievances to note how this case was handled. The fascinating Frenchman who had Avon the heart of Mary Avas not long to escape bloody vengeance. A plot for the mur- der of Rizzio Avas made in the room beloAv ; and Lord Darn- ley first entered the j)rivate room of the queen, just back of the bed-chamber, and sat Avith his arm fondly around Mary’s Avaist. Soon Lord Ruthven entered the room, clad in armor, folloAved by others. As the queen asked Avhy they came, Riz- zio saAv that his end had come, and clasped the garments of the queen for protection ; but he Avas quickly dragged from the room to the bed-chamber, Avhere he received a thrust from a dagger snatched from Darnley's belt by Douglas. The victim was then dragged to the head of the stairs Avhere he was OLD SCOTTISH LAXOILIOH 77 quickly dispatched, notwithstanding the tears and pleadings of the queen. Slie, liowever, soon dried her tears and began t(i “study revenge;’’ and tlie residts the reader well knows. Darnley, whose siek-ehand)(>r aftt'rward received the niiiiistra- tions of tlie queen, no doul)t met his fate at her hands, as his- tory has adjudged. Her marriage witli Bothwell soon led to the gravest suspicion and to lu'r (h'thromnuent. But in Holy- rood Palace, at the head of the stairs, the stain of Rizzio’s blood is yet to he seem on the hare floor. Queen Victoria has coni])artments at Holyrood, which she occupies when at Edinburgh, tliougli her Scotland home is at Balmoral, where she spends much of lier time. With a pecul- iar grace the Scotchman says. “Her iMajesty the Queen is very fond of Scotland.” The old Scottish language witli wliich Burns has made Amer- icans familiar docs not prevail in Scotland, as I had supposed it did. Prohalily the Scottish language s}>rung up hc.side the English as a sister, receiving its ca.'-st from the Danish and Nor- wegian elements thrown into it by the ScandinaA'ian branch of the old Teutonic language. We learn from the writings of Burns the former fullness of the vowel sounds in the lan- guage. But these are passing out of hearing and practice, and the deep pathos of the old Scotch language is almost lost from Scotland. The reader is familiar with it through the reading of the q)oems of Robert Burns ; but still I will venture to insert here tlu' twimty-third psalm : “ The Lord is niy herd ; nae want sal fa’ me. “ He louts me till lie amaiifr green howes; He airts me atowye by the lown waters. “He waukens my wa’ — gaen saul; He weises [me rown, for His aiii name’s sake, intil right roddins. “ Na, tho’ I gang thro, the dead-mirk — dail ; e'en thar sal I dread nae skaithin ; for yersel are nar-by me ; yer stok an’ yer stay hand me baith fil’ cheerie. “ My buird ye hae hansell’d in face o’ my faes ; ye hae drookit my head wi’ oyle ; my bicker is /a’ an' skailin. “ E’en sae sal gude guidin an’ gude gree gang wi’ me, ilk day o’ my livin ; an’ evir mair syne, i’ the Lord’s ain howff, at lang last, sal I mak bydan.” 78 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. Standing at the foot of High Street, in Edinburgh, and look- ing down the narrow thoroughfare, crowded with tall, dingy houses, past the Tolbooth, — the old royal buildings, — all of which have been there from three hundred years and upward ad infinitum, one beholds at the head of this street, called “Canon Gate,” in full view, the home of John Knox, the great Scotch reformer, in which he lived from 1560 to tlie date of his death — twelve years. It contains three rooms — tlie sit- ting-room, bed-room, and study. The entrance to tlie second story is reached by a fliglit of steps on the outside of the building. Al)Ove the door of the lower story, and running across tlie width of the house, is the following inscription : “LI'VE. Gon. ABUVE. AL. AND YI. NYCHTBOUR. AS. YI. SELF.” Above tliis inscription, in the stone at the corner of the wall, is an effigy about one foot high, Avhich has Ixum under- stood to repre.sent Knox preaching. Tt is evidently intended to represent the form and face of Moses the lawgiver. The right hand points to the following inscription : “ Theos Deus God.” As I remembered the life and struggles and heroism and faith of Knox I almost expected to see him walk down the steps and uji to his old church. Knox was the instrument which through God redeemed and delivered Scotland. Ih' was born at Gifford, in East Lothian, in 1505, and entered Glasgow University in 1522. Up to 1545 we hear but little of him, when he suddenly appeared as the sword-bearer ol‘ Wishart. He was for ten years a priest of Rome; and it was not until he had reached the age of fifty-four years that the grand struggle of his life began. Four years he preached in England, until he mini.stercd before the king. He then, in the providence of God, became the embodiment of the Scottish reformation. He claimed and held to the supremacy of the word of God. Knox and Queen Mary were the leaders in that awful struggle. The balances swung with doubt for a CHARACTER OF KXOX. 79 time; l)iit tlie in-ayer, “Give me Scotland or I die,” was not allowed to lie on God’s altar unanswered. The old pulpit from wi)ieli Knox thundered the tremendous missiles of death . to ])operv and poured forth the words of life to the peojde is \u‘t ])reserved in the Antiquarian Museum. In the court-yard t>etween St. (dies Cathedral (Knox’s old church) and the par- liament huildings, and close hy an equestrian statue of Charles 11., is ar hrown stone about eighteen inches square in the pave- ment of the street. In its center is the following, in brass- raised h'tters : I. K. 1572. And beneath this stone rest the ashes of him who never feared th(> face of man. Knox, strange to say, has no ,«tatue or mon- ument in Edinburgh, and yet all Scotland is a monument to his memory. The quiet Sabbath, such as is nowhere else to l)c found, with the fullne.ss of religious liberty throughout th(> land, is his monument of an imperisha1)le fame Knox was not an angel. He had not that mildness and sweetness which might have been expected of one so grand. He drew his illustrations and spirit often, apparently, from the Old Testament rather than from the Kew. He was the one to eomhat popery, an adulterous and bloody queen, and all hell. No wonder that he sometimes struck like a thunder- bolt. But there were others of his times and later years. I not only could not enough appreciate the soul of these men who signed tliis covenant to defend the truth and resist error with all their power, but was made to sorrow over my own •;lothfulu('ss as I read in the museum the names of those men from tlie original document where they stand suhscril)cd with their own blood. But for that deed they fell under that horrid old guillotine close by. In the church-yard of the GiTvfriars “ lie the headless martyrs of the covenant ; ” for not less than one hundred noble men, women, and minister martyrs are buried there. The old treasurer’s books still tell how much was paid, and to whom, for their execution. But their lives were followed by the illustrious in learning and 80 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. Christian toil. Here labored Dr. Thomas Chalmers, and Dr. Thomas Guthrie, of our own century ; Init now their ashes rest in the cemetery in tlie western jiart of the city, close by those of Dr. Duff, the early Christian missionary. Before leaving Scotland I devoted one day to visiting the home of Sir Walter Scott, who stands forever as one of the most illustrious literary characters and personages of history. In some respects Charles Dickens has since his day- been a rival, but as a Avhole the world has seen no literary character his equal since he was l)uried in Drvburgli Abbey. He was born in Edinburgh, August 15, 1771, and resided there for a number of years, where he was, I believe, an elder in Dr. Chal- mers’ church. Abbotsford, the well-known Imme of Scott during tlie greater part of his life, is nearly forty miles south- ward from Edinburgh, in the “Vale of the Tweed.” It is a beautiful spot indeed, on the banks of the river Tweed. Scotland has no home where are found such evidences of culture and learning. It has sometimes been called “ a poem in lime, and stone, and mortar.’’ When one looks at the gardens and walls, and walks, and shrubs, aird trees which are about Abbotsford, and then at the treasures of books and relics which the homo contains, he can not wonder that Sir Walter was often hard pressed for money. The Avonder is that his literary lal)or should have been remunerative enough to have secured all. Had he not been a j)rodigy as well as a giant, he must have utterly failed. The home has a study, library, drawing-room, and armory into Avhich visitors are shown upon the payment of a shilling. The study contains a Avriting-table, and the large plain arm-chair, covered with dark leather, in Avhich the poet used to sit. On all sides the Avails are set Avith book.-<. The ceiling is high, and half Avay up is a light gallery around AA-hich Sir Walter used to Avalk to reach the books at the top, and by Avhich he also passed through a j)riA'ate door to his bed-chamber. The most inter- esting room is the library, AA’hich contains about tAA'enty thousand volumes, many of Avhich are rare and valuable. There are also a number of portraits and busts here. In the SroT'rs GRAVE AT DRYBURGII ABBEY. 81 (lra\vin;;-room tluTo are portraits of Scott's mother, his son who died some years ago in London on his way from India, of his two daughters, his wife, and the head of Mary, Queen of Scots, after her beheading. The armory is a museum of itself. Here are the pistols of Napoleon, given to Scott V)y the Duke of Wellington, who captured them at Waterloo. In the large entrance-hall are curiosities heyond number, coats of arms and military equij^ments of former times — curiosities indeed. In a case to the right of the door, in and out of which Scott and his illustrious visitors used to pa.ss, are the clothes he last wore. The suit consists of a hroad-brimmed white fur-hat, heavy shoes, striped pants, and black vest and coat. While the home is beautiful and attractive, it is retired and not imposing. It is now owned by a great-granddaugh- ter of Scott's, the wife of Hon. .1. Constable Maxwell, who, after the fashion of ladies who marry in America, has taken the name of Scott to his former name. Six or .seven miles down the Tweed from Abbotsford, in Dryburgh Abhi'y, is the toml) of this great jmet of Scotland. The ahbey is one of the largest ruins in Scotland. It was founded in 1156, and once had immense and imposing pro- portions, but has been in ruins for ages. In the most interest- ing and well preserved part, St. Mary’s Aisle, is the tomb of Scott, who died September 21, 1832, at near the age of sixtv- one years. His 'ourial here seems to have been on account of its containing the tombs of some of his ancestors. His wife and eldest son lie under the marble case by his side. At the head of his tomb is buried his son-in-law, Mr. Lockhart. Death pays no re.spect to genius or fame. The Vale of the Tweed is the emhodiment of delicate heauty ; yet its charms could not entice death away from Abbotsford. The great scholar and author could pen thoughts and j)roduce books over which the world pores with profound delight and bewil- derment of admiration, but confessed when dying that there was but one book, and that the book whose teachings, truths, and divine philosophies stretch across all worlds. The soul lives and the body has gone to dust, where 6 FCOTLAyD AXD KXaLAXD. “ Xuked stand the melancholy walls, Lashed by the wintry tempests cold and bleak, That whistle mournful through the empty halls. And piece-meal crumble down the towers to dust.” Only a few miles from Ahbot.sford is Melrose, the railroad ])oint from which the former ])lace is reached by private con- veyance. Melrose Abbey is one of the grandest and most imposing ruins in the world. The carvings and images in stoite, which are to be seen by scores everywhere, tell the story of the art which flourished under Catholic dominion eight hundred years ago. The church is in the usual form of a cross, two hundred and fifty-eight feet long, and the transept one hundred and thirty-seven feet, with a scpiare tower in the center, eighty-four feet high. What is remarkable is that among the hundreds of stone carvings and scores uf efligies, no two of them are alike. Beneath these stones are entombed the bodies of many heroes of Avar and remarkable prelates. In the choir is marked the spot Avhere Avas buried the heart of Robert the Bruce, who fought the battle of Bannockburn but Avho died of lejwosy. An etfort Avas made to carry his heart to Palestine, to be buried at Jerusalem. He to Avhom the precious task Avas committed fell in battle in Spain, and the h(‘art Avas brought back ami buried in ^lelrose Abbey. AboAit tliese cloisters, monks Avandered hundreds of years ago in moral delusion and night, then more gloomy than even the.se old ruined Avails and cloistcTS noAv .seem to us.- There is something inde.scribably grand and yet melan- choly in these ancient ruins. Tliey are monuments of a life that once Avas, and mementoes of death. Accustomed to a neAV country Avhere really there is nothing Avhich bears the marks of age, one feels here, in the presence of these ruins of centuries Avhieh .still stand up as if to tlefy the Avork of time, that the shadows of ilecaying ages are over him. Artists here and there sat sketching the A'aridus parts of these toAver- ing ruins. I have their image, but they make me hunger for eternal life and the land Avhere all is one temple to the living God — one palace of his saints. There is a fatherland Avhere MELROSE ABBEY. 83 temples fall not into ruins, and where tlie deep, somber, mel- ancholy shades of moldering abbeys never throw over the soul their softening sliadows. Walter Scott wrote, — “ If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright Go visit it by the pale moouliglit.” Lodging one night in the hotel close by Melrose Abbey, I find this entry in my diary, made at the midnight hour, which shall be the reader’s present farewell to Scotland; 84 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. “I am lodging to-night in the ‘Abbey Hotel/ with my windows looking out upon these venerable ruins only a few yards away. They present in the pale moonlight a scene of awful grandeur. But as these lines run on and on, that old bell up somewhere in the abbey-ruins, swinging over the graves of warriors and mojiks and priests, every hour strikes its doleful notes, and in sepulchral tones marks the knell of time. It makes one tremble. There, it strikes again — one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve ! It is midnight. Good-night. Soon our ears will be dull as those in the sepulchral vaults. We shall be asleep, alas, asleep — asleep, asleep, — but I trust not forever! There is a morning to come. Beyond that morning all things are new.” CHAPTER IV. Entering London — Population of London — Cost of its Support — Streets — Billingsgate — Charitj' — Parliament Building — Queen’s Kobing- Room — Prince’s Cliamber — Portraits — Henry and his Wives — House of Lords — House of Commons— Westminster Hall — Cromwell, Lord Protector— St. ^Margaret’s Chapel— Sir Walter Raleigh — Canon Farrar. one from America can visit England without a feel- ing of kindredness. He is going hat'k to the home of his ancestors. He is crowded witli interest in everything he sees, and everything he looks upon seems crowded. The whole country of England, Scot- land, ami Ireland is smalh'r in territory than some single states in America. Yet here is an empire in a garden. Great cities crowd the islands, and tlieir commerce sails on all seas. It would reqtiire volumes to describe the cities and social and business centers of England. I must take the reader directlv to London, the metropolis of the world. It may he of inter- est to .some to know that the writer’s entrance to it was by “The Flying Dutchman,” as the train is called which made sixty miles per hour. The English railroad-ears are a thing to he got used to. They have their disadvantages as well as excellences. Their track is wider than is common in America, and the ear-wheels higher and lighter. The ear is wider and shorter than ours. It is divided into two and (»ften three compartments, entered from the side of the coach, the seats facing each other running across the car, each com- jtartment seating eight per.sons. Some have saloon a})art- inents larger and containing one seat running along the side of the car, thus seating fifteen or tw’enty persons. The com- partments have no connection or communication with each 85 86 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. other, and there are no provisions whatever for drinking- water or water-closets, nor have you any conductor to trouble you, or into wliose ear little questions may be poured. Your ticket is examined and ])unched at the gateway admitting to the cars and demanded when you go out at your destination, or on local trains at stations by masters. There are three classes of tickets sold — fir.st, second, and third; and fir.«t, sec- ond, and third-cla.ss com2)artments are accordingly fitted in the cars and run on every train. These do not differ in their arrangements except as they are made more or less comfort- able and ornamental in the cushioning, etc., according to the class. The larger per cent of the people travel in second-class cars, which are quite comfortable, and very many go on the third-class, especially for short distances, it being fully one half less expensive than first-class. Second-class cars are always cushioned, while the third are sometimes so, and the first-class elaborately cushioned and furnished with spring seats. There is no system of checking baggage in Euroi:)e as in America. You take all you can into the car with you, and if you are accompanied with a trunk it is marked to the station you indicate and quit into a baggage-car. Then you look after it and get it tlu> best way j’ou can. It seems to be so done in order to give the porters an opportunity to get a few pence from you at every town. The same kind of cai’s is used on the continent. In all of England, Scotland, and Ireland there is much greater regard for human life than in America, and danger of accidents is avoided. No highways cross the track. They go under, or upon a bridge entirely above the track. No jierson is allowed to walk across the track, there being foot-bridges eveiywhere at every station, with steps at cither side. This is true in cities, towns, and villages alike; and from this America could Avell learn a lesson to the profit of many. London is acknowb'dged as the greatest city man has built. It is not tbe most beautiful, or tbe most tasteful, or the best, perha])S, yet it is the greatest. It would require years to see it and know it ; and the writer had but a short month, so that CITY OF LONDON. 87 he can only venture a description of a few of the more inter- esting jdaces. It is almost ont of the range of possibilities to get an adecpiate conception of the vastness of this city as to population, l)nsiness, or commerce. Mere figures fail to pre- sent it. To he sure, every one knows how many four million five hundred thousand are. Yet who feels the force of the.'^e numbers when applied to the population of a single city? It is said there are more Scotchmen here than in Edinburgh, more Irish than in Dublin, and more -lews than in all Pales- tine. The city is fourteen miles long and eight miles wide, and covers an area of over one hundred and twenty -two srpiare miles. It has nearly eight thousand streets. If they were put end to end they would more than reach across the American continent. It takes more than a million gas- lights and electric lights to drive out the nocturnal darkness. There are over eleven hundred churches, and seven thousand ])ublic houses of entertainment. Or, put it in this way : jjut New York, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Chicago, St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Buffalo all in one city, and then throw in Kan.sas City, Lecompton, Columbus, Westerville, IIart.«- ville, Indiamn)olis, Harrisburg, Annville, Dayton, Westfield, Sacramento, and some more, and yet you have not a city so large as London. Or, following the example of another, let it lie put this way: It takes nearly four hundred tliousand oxen for beef ]ier year, or about eleven hundred jier day; sheep, one million, five hundred thousand jier year; one hun- dred and thirty thousand calves; two hundred and fifty thou.sand hogs; four hundred million jiounds of fish; five million oysters ; one million two hundred thousand lobsters; tliree million salmon ; eight million head of game and poultry. More than twenty thousand vessels enter the port every year, and its exports liy the River Thames must every year reach the value of five hundred million dollars. It takes over ten thousand cabs to carry the people where they want to go, besides the street-cars and the underground cars; and yet everybody seems to be going on foot. The streets of London are narrow, and narrow sidewalks 88 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. -welcome the pedestrian. The streets run everyn’here and every way, crossing at every possible angle. Everywhere the street-sweeper with his pan and hrnsli is out sweeping up the dirt, so that the streets are kept clean. The windows of shops and stores on the better streets present magnificent displays. Some ont-of-the way streets are horrible beyond (h s -rii)tion. One h)ok down them will l.)e enough ; or if you venture into them, it will not be )4_>ng till you will get out as fast as j)ossi- ble, with eyes and nose more tl-an half closed. I .diall never forget the feelings of wonder, horror, and disgust ex}>erienced when wandering along one morning I suddenly found my- self in Billingsgate Street — the great fish-market of London. Men and women, and carts and boys, and fish, — .dimy fish of all kinds and sizes, — yes, worlds of fish, — and the dirtiest men and women I ever saw; and such hallooing, and talking, and swearing! Now I know what is meant by billingsgate language. There are many benevolent and devout persons who are doing their utmost, by personal effort and through benevolent institutions, for the elevation of the di.stricts so destitute of the gospel and other blessings. There is, })erhaii.'^, no city in the world where more devout and determined effort for God is being put forth than here. This is true of charita- ble, reformative, temperance, and gosptd work. London was once a Roman walled city, tin* walls of which are believed to have been built by the Emperor Con.>opulation have doubled in the last fifty years. The House of Parliament, with old Westminster Hall, forms an immense structure, covering an area of eight acres. These buildings were erected in 1840, the former ones having been destroyed by fire in 1834. Its cost is about eighteen million dollars. It has three towers over three hundred feet high — the highest being the Victoria Tower, wh’cli mounts uj) to the height of three hundred and forty feet. The clock has PARLIAMEXT BUILDING. 89 four dials, each twenty-three feet in diameter. The great bell of the clock-tower weighs thirteen tons, being one of the larg- est ever made. The front of the building toward the river Thames, on the banks of which it really stands, the foundation wall being the river embankment, is nine hundred and forty feet. The structure is splendidly adorned with es'ery possible carving, the most interesting of which are the statues of the kings and queens from MTlliam the Conqueror down to her majesty. Queen Victoria. It is a matter of great regret that the buildings are of stone which already is yielding to the hand of decay. 00 SCOTLASD AND ENGLAND. The first ehamher of importance entered is the Queen’s Rohing-Rooni, wliich is a handsome chamber forty-five feet long. Tlie paintings here are best represented in the three virtues, — Courti'sy, (tenerosity, and Religion, — which are over the fire-])laee. The Royal Victoria Gallery, through which the (pieen }>asses as slie enters the House of Lords to open or prorogue parliament, is the next. To this floor of fine mo- saic Avork, surrounded with Avails on Avhich are the paint- ings of the deatli of Nelson at Trafalgar on the left, and the meeting of Blueher and Wellington after Waterloo, royal j»ersons are invited Avhen the queen passes through in solemn ]n-oeession. In the Prince’s Chamber, Avhich comes next, and Avbieli is a model of beauty, you stand at once in front of a marble group, tlie c(‘nter of Avbich represents Victoria en- throned. All around the room are paintings of the kings and qu(‘ens and tlieir relatiA'cs, from Louis XII. to Queen Elizabeth, twenty-eight in all. Among the most striking in innocent l>eauty are Lady Jane Gray and her hu.sl)and. Lord CJuilford Dudley. Rut as the eye turns to the riglit, Avhat a scene is that ? Tln-re beside the monster form of Henry VIII. are tlie jiortraits of Catharine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anne of Ch'ves, Catharine IIoAvard, and Catharine Parr. Henry. Avhose face resenililes the appearance of the busts of Titus and Nero for brutality, still seems to scoavI on Lady Gray and her youthful martyred husband. From this room two doors lead into the “Hou.se of Peers.” Here the lords .sit in .session. The room is ninety-five feet long and forty-five feet broad and higb. It has emblematic Avindows, and the Avails are sphmdidly decorated. The benches are cov- ered Avitli reel leather, and furnish sittings for four hundred and four members. Tavo things attract attention here aboA'e all. The first is the splendid, gaudy, golden throne of her majesty the queen, on the right of Avhich is the throne of the Prince of Wales, and to the left that of Prince Albert. Alas! he sits in it no more. These are coA’ered Avith a canopy of the most splendid gilding. The next thing attracting curious notice is the celebrateil “ Avool-sack,” on Avhich the lord chan- SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 91 cellor sits. It is a groat big cushioned ottoman near the center of the hoi;se, six or eight feet square ; and on it he may sit, or lie down, as it would seem. Here in this grand and august place, business is tran.'^acted ]>y tlic lords of England ; and here, too, business is interfered witli. But from tins, i)assing several halls, is the entrance to the House of Commons. It is a plainer and smaller room. It has seats for four hundred and seventy-six, while the House really numbers si.x bundred and fifty-eight. Some are expected to be ab.sent. Leaving these chamhers by way of Central Hall, you enter one of the most strikingly historic spots in England — at least it is the most historic of all these buildings It is the Westminster Hall. It has several times been destroyed or greatly injured bj’ fire, yet dates baek six hundred years. Here the early EnglLsh parliament was often held. Here Edward II., who married the corrin)t and ambitious daughter of Philij) V. of France, Isabella, was declared to have forfeited the crown. Here Charles I. was condemned to death. Here, in 16d3, Cromwell was saluted as lord protector of England, as he held the scepter royal in one hand and the Bible in the other. On the i)innacle of this hall, le.=;s than eight years later, his head was expo.sed with those of Bradshaw and Ireton (his body having been torn from its tomb in Westminster Abbey), and here it remained, according to history, for thirty years. Within these old walls William Wallace, the chainj)iou of freedom for Scotland, Lord Cobham, the leader of tin* Lol- lards, Sir Thomas Moore, and many others were condemned to die. It is now bald, empty, and unattractive. A little way from Westminster Hall is St. ^Margaret's Church, built by Edward I. It contains the tomli of Sir Walter Raleigh, the navigator, courtier, commander, and au thor, who was executed near it in 1618. Thirteen y('ars before his death he had been convicted, upon insufficient evidence, of treasonable complicity with Lord Cobham ; but through public sympathy, his own heroism, and bribery, he secured his escape from London Tower. The sentence of death re- maining upon him, he at last on returning from foreign shores 92 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. fell its victim, in October, 1G18. During his imprisonment in the tover he wrote to his wife a touching letter in view of his expected death. Near its conclusion he said, “I can say no more: time and death call me away. The everlasting God, powerful, infinite, and inscrutable, God Almighty, who is goodness itself, the true Hght and life, keep thee and thine, have mercy on me, and send us to meet in his glorious king- dom.” St. Margaret's is the present preaching-place of Canon Farrar, who has the charge. Several of these chapels are con- nected with Westminster Abbey, and the canons who preach in them also preach in AVestminster. CHAPTER V. Westminster Abbey — Its Loeation— History— First Impressions— Monu- mental Statues: Pitt, Wilberforee, Wesley, Livingstone, and others — Poets’ Corner — Tombs of Chaucer, Shakespeare, Campbell, Milton, and others — Through the T >mbs of the Kings and Queens — Stanley — Cor- • onation-Chair — Stone of Scone —Superstitious Legend— Religious Services — Jerusalem Chamber. s^IRECTLY west of the House of Parliament, and only ^ a little distance from it, is Westminster Abhey, the most impressive and in many respects the most '^^sacred place in England, where are in solemn and awful grandeur the tombs of England’s kings and queens from the first down to Henry VIII. The feelings and thoughts of one who treads these solemn corridors and aisles for the first time can not be Avritten or uttered. Here one stands in England’s “Temple of Fame.” He Avho reveres and honors the memory of those whose glory crowns the pages of history, and whose fame fills the Avorld, treads softly and reverently here. Every footfall upon the stone floor seems to echo the greatness and feebleness of those over whose dust you pass. It is asserted that an Anglo-Saxon king built a church here as early as 616. It Avas destroyed by the Danes, and rebuilt in 985 by King Edgar. The abbey as it noAV is recog- nized Avas established by EdAvard the Confessor about 1050. In the thirteenth century it was again rebuilt substantially as it noAv stands. Like all the cathedrals, it is in the form of a cross. Its length is five hundred and thirteen feet, and the transept tAvo hundred feet. The breadth of the naA’e is seA’- enty-five feet, and the altar transept eighty feet. Its height is one hundred and two feet, Avith a toAver tAvo hundred and twen- 93 94 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. ty-fiv(‘ feet. It is not the external grandeur of the abbey that imi)resses one, however splendid that may he eonsidered, for in this res]>eet it is not e(|ual to St. Paul's Cathedral, nor yet to the York Minster, in the old eity of York, in York.diire. But England has a history the most intensely interesting. What ibime is to the Catholies, and almost what Palestine is to the .lews, England is to a great i)art of the Prote.stant, and MONUMENTAL ST A TUBS. 95 indeed the entire civilized world. And of Westminster Abbey it may be said, “ This is where the end of earthly things Lay heroes, patriots, lords, and kings.” Tlie history of England is crowded with the deeds of valor, and of sliame alike, of those whose stories of heroism are road in all lands with the eagerness of a romance. But here is the place “ Where, towering thought to human pride. The inight3- chiefs sleep side by side.” Then, too, these series of memory tablets and monuments to celebrated men add a kiml of sacreilness to the royal burial- vaults. Entering at the north transept, your eye is appalled with the statues unnumbered upon which it rests. At the first glance it looks like some great workshop of fairy .sculpt- ors, where the work of ages had been stored. Looking upon it intently for a few moments, it all falls into solemn order and grandeur. Near you is first and most strikingly noticed the large statue of William Pitt (Lord Chatham), with hosts of others. In the west aisle is represented in marble, half size, Elizabeth Warren, the widow of the bishop of Bangor. It represents a poor mother sitting Avith a child in her benevo- lent arms. The visitor can not fail to be struck with the marble statue of William Wilberforcc, the great advocate of the emancipation of the slaA’es. lie sits Avith knee crossed and the hiAv in hand, Avith sharp eyes turning leftAvard. 1 le Avas born in Hull, August 24th, 1759, and died in London, •luly 29th, 1833. He Avas a member of the House of Com- mons for half a century. To elotpience and talent and benevolence he added an illustrious Chri.stian character. He labored for men tem})orally and spiritually. He bore oblo(|uy, but rose to illustrious fome. Near by, upon a black sarcopha- gus, is the reclining figure of Sir Isaac NcAvton, the great philosopher’, Avho Avas born in Lincolnshire, December 25th, 1642, and Avho on the 20th of March, 1727, passed out, Ave trust, to farther reachings into the great and limitless future. Farther on is the renoAvned statesman, William Pitt, in statue, who stands speaking to History at his right, Avhile to the left 96 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. is Anarchy in chains. He was less than fifty years of age when he died, Jannary 23d, 1806. On the south side of the nave is a sarcophagus monument to Major John Andre, who was executed in America, Octo])er 2d, 1780. Below are the figures of AVashington rc(‘eiving dispatches. The head of Washington has three times Ix-en broken off and carried away, while that of AmlVe has alike needed to be replaced several times. A little farther on is a bust of Dr. Isaac Watts, the famous writer of hymns. Below the author is in effigy the inspiring mu.se. Near tliis is a pretty marble slab with the faces of the two Wesleys, eontaining also the inscription, “Jolm Wesley, born June 17, 1703; died March 2, 1791. Charles Wes- ley, born December 18, 1708; died March 29, 1788.” “ The best of all, God is with ns.” There is l)elow a figure of Wesley preaching to assembled multitudes, and the sentence, “I look upon all the world as my ]iarish.” “ God Imries his workmen but carries on his work.” In the center of the nave is a slab of gray marble al)Out seven by four feet in size, over which you tread with subdued feel- ings, for it contains this inscription, which I carefully copied : “Brought by faithful hands over land and sea, HERE RESTS DAVID LIVINGSTONE, MISSIO.NARY, TRAVELER, PHIL A NTHROPIST. Born March 19, 1813, .\t Blantyie, Lanarkshire. Died May, 1873, At Chit.unbo's \'illage, Ulala. For thirty years liis life was spent in an unwearied eflTirt to evangelize the native races. To cxjilore tlie undiscovered secrets. To abolish the desolating slave-trade of Central Africa, Where with his last words he wrote, “ All I can add in luv solitude is, inav Heaven’s rich blessings come down on any one, American. Ensrlish, or Turk, who will help to heal this open sore of the world.” TOMBS OF THE ILLUSTRIOUS. 97 Not by an}' means the least interesting is the “ Poets’ Cor- ner/' the southern transept of the abbey. Here the loftiest geniuses lie buried beneath the cold stone, above which art, with its chisel, has done its finest and most eloquent handi- work. Here I found myself mingling with the memories and emotions of the illustrious, as I looked often upon the monuments and tombs of old Chaucer, the poet of England nearly five hundred years ago; of Shakespeare; of Thomas Cami)l)ell, Southey, John Gay, AddLson, John IMilton, Dick- ens, Dryden, and many others of immortal renown. The statue of Shakesi)eare presents tlie figure of the poet standing on an altar. To the right, under his arm, are a numl)er of his books, while a scroll is in his hand. The masks of Eliz- abetli, Henry V., and Richard III. stand on the pedestal. The sc'roll sus})ended contains the following appropriate quo- tation : “ The cloud-capped towers, The gorgeous palaces, The solemn Temples, The great globe itself, j^ea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve, And like the baseless fabric of a vision Leave not a wreck behind.” Near the monument of Sliakespeare, who was born about April 23d, 1564, and died at Stratford, where he was buried, in 1616, just fifty-two years old, is tlie dust of Robert Southey, born August 12th, 1774, and died March 21st, 1842, while close by is the tribute to John Gay — a small genius holding the medallion with the irreverent inscription, shocking one’s sensibilities in this awful place, from Gay’s own writings — “ Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought so once, but now I know it.” Here, also, is the tomb and statue of Thomas Campbell, author of “ The Pleasures of Hope,” who was born at Glasgow, 1777, and died in 1844, at about the age of sixt}'-seven years. The inscription from Campbell is very beautiful — 7 98 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. “ This spirit shall return to Him Who gave his heavenly spark ; Yet think not, sun, it shall be dim When thou thyself art dark ; No, it shall live again and shine In bliss unknown to beams of thine, By Him recalled to breath W'ho captive led captivity, Who robbed the grave of victory And took the sting from death.” But T rlare not tresspass further upon limited spaee to revel in these memories of the departed poets, for here is the tomb of Dickens, surrounded by those of Handel, the great music - composer, and Sheridan, and Cumberland. To the home where throbs tlie loftiest poetic passion, “ death breaks in at last.” What stveeter thoughts were here if the assurance were of all, as of some, that their genius finds scope and sweep of passion .where there is no sin, neither sorrow. In sepulchral tones a guide, Avith a long, heavy cloak upon him, calls out, “ The guide is now going to start on a journey through the sacred tombs.” You pay your “sixpence” and join the company Avhich saunters sloAvly, some reverently and some curious!}", through the chapels, one after another, Avhero sleeps the dead dust of kings and queens. These are gloomy and doleful divisions of the abbey embracing the east end or top of the cross. Some of these chapels have as many as eighteen or tAventy dead depo.sited in them, while others haA'e but feAV. In the Chapel of St. Benedict, near the entrance, to the left, is an old altar-decoration of the fourteenth century, beneath Avhich is the monument of the Saxon king, Sebert, and his Avife Athelgoda, Avho died in 616. Close to this is the tomb of Anne of Cle\'es, the fourth Avife of Henry VIII. If she Avent to heaA^en it is not probable that she is troubled Avith him noAV. In the Chapel of St. Edmund, among illus- trious tombs, are those of the Duchess of Suffolk, grand- daughter of Henry VII., and mother of Lady Jane Grey, Lady Jane Seymour, Lord John Russell, and Lady Russell. These tombs are all mounted Avith splendid figures of one TOMBS OF THE KINGS AND QUEENS. 99 kind or another, maii}'^ of them black marble —statues reclin- ing on pedestals of alabaster. Passing through the Chapel of St. Nicholas, one of the most crowded with costly monuments, you reach the Chapel of Henry VII. by a flight of steps of black marble. It is a place of awful grandeur. Nearly one thousand figures and statues adorn this place, erected nearly four hundred years ago. The carvdngs are elaborate', and the architecture has an air of pomp which astounds one. The first monument which strikes the eye is Lady INIargaret Douglas, who has been asleej) here over thi-eec hundred years, with her seven children kneeling around her sarcophagus. Here, too, is the figure of Mary, Queen of Scots, in a recumbent posture, praying. She was beheaded February 8th, 1587. Her remains are below. I have looked at half a dozen splendid paintings of Elizabeth, and thought of her long imprisonment and sorrow in London Tower ; and every time I have so done the thought has come, “ How could she sign the death-warrant of Mary?” History has usually accredited her with so doing. In the preface to the English edition of Strickland’s History of the Queens of England it is as.serted that she did not sign the warrant, Init luw signature was forged by a private secretary of Walsingliam, at the instigation of Burleigh, Walsingham, and Davidson. I hope this is true — not for the .shame it casts upon others, hut lor the relief to the name of Elizabeth and its explanation of her otherwise unaccountable conduct. The editors of the American edition have embodied this state- ment in the text of the book, hut by wliat authority I do not know. Here, too, with others of royal birth, are buried Charles II., M^illiam HI., and Queen Mary, his wife, and Queen Anne and her consort. Prince George of Denmark. Here is the vault containing Henry VII. and his wife Elizabeth, and James I. Close by are the resting-jdaces of George II. and Edward VI. Near l)y my eyes rested upon some fresh, beau- tiful flowers lying upon a tomb, in a pretty, bright spot. Not least beloved nor narrowlj", there is where they had just buried the good Dean Stanley, beside his wife. Lady Au- gusta. I had hoped to hear him from the pulpit during my 100 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. staj' in London. But ala.s! he has a different puljut. He lies down there as still as Dr. Dill, the first* dean under Elizabeth, who has been dead more than three hundred years. He had a broad catholic heart as Avell as a noble intellect. He gave the world witness that he loved God and the race. God testified that his faith and life were accepted, “and he being dead, yet speaketh.” In the northern aisle of this chapel the monu- ment of Queen Elizabeth, in an horizontal position, sleeps on the sarcophagus, near her predecessor and sister Mary. Not far away lies the consort of James I., — Anne. Here are the buried bones of Edward V. and his brother, the sons of Edward IV., both of whom were murdered in the tower by their uncle, Richard III. Alas! for royalty. In the Chapel of St. Paul lies Thomas Bromley, the lord chancellor under Eliz- abeth, who presided at the court which condemned Mary, Queen of Scots, and who has been laid away two hundred and ninety-four years; and there James Watt, tvhose name is fixed in history with the steam-engine, was buried in 1819; and many others lie beside them. The Chapel of Edward the Confessor dates back to 1066, and is itossessed of much real interest. Here is a recumbent bronze effigy of Henry III., with an artistic monument of mosaic and porph}n-y ; also a metal effigy of Eleanor, of Castile, wife of Edward I., who died in 1290. Also, here is a recumbent figure of Henry V., who was buried in 1422, except that the solid silver head is lack- ing, having been stolen off during the reign of Henry VII. Here are the remains of Shakespeare’s “ beautiful Kate,” Katharine of Valois, wife of Henry V. ; of Phillipa, wife of Edward III., the relatives of no less than thirty crowned heads ; Edward III., and of Richard II., murdered in 1399, on St. Valentine’s day. From this w'alk among the tombs of illustrious kings and Queens whose history reads to us wild as romance but here appears sad as a death-knell, I must turn aside to describe some curious old chairs which stood in this chapel. The one is the coronation -chair made for Queen Mary, wife of William III. The other rude old chair, with a great stone under its J RELIGIOUS SERVICES. 101 seat, is the old Scottish coronation-cliair, dating hack to 1272. The large, oblong -square stone under the seat was brought to London by Edward I. from Scotland, in 1297. Tradition holds it to he the identical stone which Jacob had for a i)illow, and set uj) for a j)illar at Bethel. This stone was held among the Scots to he the emblem of j)ower in connection with its traditional history. Of course, to the stone there hangs a tale. Jeremiah went down to Egy])t; of course he did. He took the stone with him. Then lie left Egypt with the stone and was sliipwrecked somewhere otf the coast of Ireland. One Avho aecompanied him was soon married to the daughter of a great chief in Ireland, and to him Jeremiah gave the stone, Avith the promise that as long as he kept it he should he the strongest chief in Ireland. At a time of Avar the Scots con- (piered him and took the stone, and so it came to England to Westminster Abbey. And in a kind of patronage to this superstitious legend, Avhen the Prinee of Wales is made king of England tlu'y Avill cover this old stone Avith gold and set him on it for his coronation ; for let it he remembered that from 1297, eA’ery reigning English monarch has been croAvned in this chair Avith this huge ugly stone of Scone under it. On coronation occasious it is covered Avith brocade of gold, and taken into the chancel of the abbey. There are other chapels Avhere are buried dukes, earls, admi- rals, and lords, and Avomen and men of illu.strious ftime. Among them is the grave of Mrs. Scott Siddons. I attended religious services in the abbey several times. After listening to these services, one can appreciate the SAveet- ness of the poet Avho sings of the place “ Where through the long drawn aisles and fretted vaults, The pealing anthems .sound the notes of praise.” The SAveet, tender strains of music from the trained choir and the mellotv voice of the reader seem yet to fall on my ear. Outside of these old cathedrals, there is no such music on the globe. Upon one occasion I heard Canon DuckAvorth ])reach upon Christian Lenity, a discourse as broad and catholic as any 102 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. minister would preach in a non-conformist church in England or in any orthodox pulpit in America. And why not ? for the whole congregation sung those precious words of Wesley, “ Jesus, lover of my soul.” There is a tone of deep spiritual devotion and reverent piety here. Although the sfirroundings are such as to produce peculiar sensations hr one worshiping here for the first time, yet even a stranger feels at home. It came like a balm to the anxious hearts of Americans when the director of the services, in repeating prayers for the afflicted, kindly put in the name of our suffering President Garfield, in special prayer. The newly-appointed dean is a low-churchman. The appointment . was made hy her majesty the queen, quite against the wishes of the premier, Gladstone, who wanted Dean Lidden, of St. Paul, a high-churchman, appointed. Jerusalem Chamber, in the south-west portion of the grounds and adjoining the abbey, is a quaint old room, with several plain tables in the center, while its walls are frescoed with striking pictures. One represents the death of Henry IV., who died within its walls, and another the coronation of Queen Victoria. Busts of several kings are here. The room was built as early as 1386. The death of Henry IV. and the painting recall the words of Shakespeare in Scene IV., Act iv.. Part ii., King Henry IV. : “ Henry. Doih any name particularly belong unto the lodgiug where I first did swoon ? “ Warwick. ‘ Tis call’d Jeru.salem, my noble lord, “Henry. Laud be to God!— even there my life must end, It hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem, Wliich vainly I suppos’d the Holy Land — But, bear me to that chamber; there I’ll lie: In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.” It has its name in all probability from certain pictures of the history of Jerusalem upon tapestries hung in the chamber. It was here that the divines met from week to week in the work of producing the late Revised Version of the New Testa- ment. SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. 103 I have given a short chapter to these walls, so eloquent with the voices of the dead and with the power of genius, piety, and devotion to the interests of the race, and the faded glory of kings and queens; and to these aisles, so mighty in their testimony to the power of the King of Terrors, who brushes the crown from the brow of every monarch, and plucks the diadem from every prince at last, and remands back to the dust the king and the beggar alike. Paths of glory lead but to the grave. CHAPTER VI. Travel in London — Hansoms — Railways — Tramways — The Thames — Lambeth Palace — Prison of Wycliffe — Blackfriars Bridge and Mon- astery—Divorce of Henry VIII. from Catherine of Aragon by Wolsey and Campeggio — London Tower — Crown-Jewels — Tow’er Green — Saddest Spot on the-Globe — Beheading of Lady Grey and Anne Bo- leyn — St. Paul’s Cathedral — An Incident — Whispering Gallery — Hyde Park — Museums — Spurgeon — Rowland Hill’s Chapel — New- man Hall. I OXDOX lias the best facilities for travel of any city in world. There are the “ hansoms ” and the coaches which rnn everywhere, and can be hailed at an}' ui\j place in the city. The hansom, named after its ,k inventor, is a two- wheeled coach, with a toj) somewhat j similar in appearance to onr falling-toj) buggies. The to]i, however, is stationary and strong, so that a good-sized trunk and valise may be lodged ujitm it in travel. The front closes with doors over the knees, and the driver sits up behind, (juite above the rider's head. It accommodates two persons liesides the driver. Then there are the busses, which run every minute; and some are going to any place you desire to reach. The fare is cheap — only a penny or three-pence for a long ride. They are allowed by law to carry twelve persons inside and fourteen outside. I always rode on toji, outside. In this a gentleman has the advantage of a lady, for he can more easily climb up the crooked, narrow st(>})s at the en- trance to the top. Then, a new institution in the city is the street-cars, which are in the form of cars, but run without a track. These are very pleasant and comfortable. Then there are the “ tram-cars,” which are simply our American street-cars, onlv thev have a second story. These run in 104 PRISOX OF WYCLIFFE. 105 the sixburban parts of the city. To these add the iMetropol- itan railroad, -wbicb is the fleetest method of travel, — for it is a railway traversing the circumference of the great city entirely under ground, with stations every little Avay apart, — and cars running every three or five minutes, and you have some idea of the progress one can make traveling here. If one does not prefer any one of these ixiethods, he can walk with this comfortable assurance, that however he may get lost or travel out of the way, there is no danger of getting out of the reach of the city police. Some one has wittily said that he had a sense of insecurity while in England, as the island is so small that he feared lest he should get up some morning, and in taking a walk, might walk otf into the water before knowing it. One would not experience such a sensation on foot in London. There is always something of a tremen- dous city farther on. In going from one end of the city to the other, a pleasant way is to take a boat on the Thames, which courses its way through the entire length of the city. The river banks are built up with great walls and buttresses on both sides, upon which are walks and luiildings and monu- ments. The wonderful parliament building has the founda- tion of one of its sides in the wall of the river. Some distance below or above (it depends on Avhich way the tide is moving) stands the Egyptian obelisk, lirought from Alexandria some years ago, the companion to which stands in Central Park, Nexv York. On the right of the Thames, nearly opposite the parliament building, is Lambeth Palace, to wdiich the eye turns with no little interest. For more than six hundred years it has been the residence of the archlxishops of Canter- bury. Here is an old chapel, built in 1245, Ixy Archbishop Boniface, which is in the old English style. The dismal-look- ing tower at the west end of the chapel once was the prison- place, and the scene of the torture of the Lollards, the followers of WyclifFe. In the upper part of the tower is a room twelve by thirteen and a half feet, and eight feet high, in which are yet to be seen the marks and inscriptions of these poor pris- oners for Christ’s sake ; and here are eight large rings fastened 106 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. in the wall, to which the heretics were chained. Wycliflfe was some time confined here, as were the Earl of Essex, Sir Thomas Armstrong, and the poet Lovelace. If that old frowning toAver could speak to us as one sails under its shadoAV on the Thames, Avhat a story of sorroAV it Avould tell. The St. Thomas and Bethlehem hospitals close by are vast institutions. The grounds of the archbishop are large, and splendidly adorned. There are, I should think, at least from sixteen to tAventy bridges OA’er the Thames, besides a tunnel under the river. The trains run under the river through this tunnel. In sailing up and doAvn the riA'er tlie boat passes under Blackfriars Bridge, a A'ast and poAA'erful iron structure, one thousand, tAA'o hundred and seventy-tAA'o feet long and eighty feet broad, costing one million six luindred thousand dollars. Its name ])erpetuates the memory of an ancient monastery, which once .stood on the river hank near by, in AA'hich parlia- ment sometimes met, and AA'hich AA'as built over six liundred years ago. In it Wolsey and Campeggio pronounced the sen- tence divorcing the unfortunate Catherine of Aragon, mother of Queen Mary, from Henry VIII., in 1529. Here Shakespeare once resided and acted in a theater three hundred years ago. But he has long since gone upon another stage. A little way doAvn the river from London bridge stands the London ToAA’er, around AA'hich there gather sadder memories than any other spot on the soil of England. If Westminster collects the glorious memories, this toAA'er inherits tlie sorroAV- ful. If those esteemed great in tlieir day sleep in the former })lace, some aa'Iio are uoav the more esteemed for their pains lie buried hert*. It is an irregular cluster of gloomy, antiquated hAiildincs, covering thirteen acres. It is on the bank of tbe Tbames, and ])resents none of tbe inspiring ai)pearances pos- sessed by most of the renoAvned jdaces of the Old World. I ]>assed one day Avithin its aAA'ful inclosure, and looked on its treasures, and reflected i;pon its memories, feeling something of the dark shadoAVS of the past enshrouding its gloomy dAA'ell- ings. It has been a fortress and a palace, tbe scene of tbe most brilliant marriage - feasts and the darkest, murderous CROW:^- JEWELS. 107 deeds, both t)f which gave joy to proud and brutal, if not devilisli monarchs. There is not space to record the events which have transpired here during the eight hundred years in which its gloomy walls have thrust their frowns upon the Tlianies. But who that looks on these places can ever forget them ? Here to the right is the “ Traitor’s Gate,” opening to the Thames, in which royal prisoners of olden time came from the boats to exchange tlieir royalty and freedom for shame and lone confinement in gloomy chambers, surrounded by cold, dreary, stone walls. Here, as one ascends the narrow, Avinding steps of the fort of the Chapel of St Jolin, just to the right is the little niclie where the bodies of Edward V. and his brother Avere found after tlieir murder by their uncle, Richard III. Their crime Avas, being youthful princes Tlie jilace caused me to shudder; for I had just passed under the bell-toAver in Avhich the youthful Elizabeth was long confined, and Avhere her life hung in the balances. I went uj) and doAvn through the great armory, Avhere are the coats of arms Avorn by the kings of England hundreds of years ago — a museum antiquated and curious. But to an American it is an e'mnt to look at the croAvn-jeAvels, Avhich are kept in the toAver. They are all inclosed in several cases of glass, one inside of another. The first and the highest in a kind of pyramid of crowns is the imperial state-croAvn of her majesty, Queen Victoria. The cap of purple velvet in hoops of silver is surmounted by a ball and a c'ross, resplendent Avith tAvo thousand, seven hundred and eighty-two diamonds. Here is also the croAvn of Prince Al- bert. Hoav little it is Avorth to him noAV, though it is of pure gold, set Avith costly jeAvels. Here too are other croAvns, such as that of St. EdAvard, made for the coronation of Charles II., and used in many subsequent coronations. Here, too, are roval scepters of gold, made doubly rich Avith diamonds. They differ in length from tAvo and one half feet to four and one half feet. The total value of these croAvns, scepters, and entire regalia is three million pounds, or fifteen million dol- lars. Passing from these several toAvers, Avhich are aAvfully elo- 108 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. $ quent with the cry of horrid deeds, you stand in Tower Green. To the north is the Chapel of St. Peter, where in peace rest tlie ashes of the beloved Lady Jane Grey, with those of many other less exalted, but not less worthy martyrs. “There is of a truth no sadder spot on earth than this little cemetery,'’ .^^ays .Macaulay. And why not.‘^o? — for here are the graves of the martyred Sir Thomas More, the jjhilosopher and statesman, beheaded July 6th, 1535 ; Queen Anne Boleyn, beheaded Mav, 1536; Thomas Cromwell, beheaded July, 1540; (^ueen Cath- erine Howard, who met the same death, Februaiw, 1542; and lords and dukes whose names I can not recall, whose sad end tells the story of the shortness and uncertainty of fame. These tombs of murdered queens tell us of the falseness of human hearts, once charmed by love and beauty. Standing in the Green looking eastward, just in front, is the window out of which Lady Jane Grey in 1554 looked at her husband, the youthful Lord Guilford Dudley, as he Avas led out to ToAver Hill to be murdered, on the same day in Avhich she passed under the scaffold into eternal rest. Xear the center of the Green is a broAvn stone about tAvo and one half feet scpiare, in the pavement, AA'ith a brass tablet set in it contain- ing these Avords : “Site of Ancient Scaffold.'’ On this si)ot Larisoned in the toAver, sAim- moned before her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, charged Avith infidelity to her a’ows and pronounced guilty, to apj)ease the spirit of the vilest Avretch that ever cursed a throne. The historian tells us that the sentence Avas received Avith (pieenly modesty, and that lifting her eyes and hands toAvard heaven ST. PAUL’S CATHEDRAL. 109 she exclaimed, “O Father! 0 Creator! thou art the way, the truth, and the life. Thou knowest I have not deserved this death.” Surely God pities the past, and will forbid that his- tory ever repeat itself. Xo one thinks of spending many days in London without a visit to St. Paul's Cathedral, which is, iiext to We.stminster Abbey, the most interesting place of worship in England. Of course the architectural grandeur of St. Paul’s greatly excels. It is the third larg- est cathedral in the world — those of Mi- lan and St. Peter’s at Pome only excel- ling it. It has been claimed that a hea- then t(‘mplo once stood on this spot. It is evident that the Christians in the time of Con.stantine had a church here. The building was restored on these grounds in 610, 961, 1087, 1315, 1445 ; but in 1561 it fell under the jircy of devour- ing flames. Puins of these buildings haA’e been discovered at! different times. The iiresent structure, according to the de- sign of Christopher Wren, was begun in 1675, and completed in 1710. Its cost is put at three million seven hundred and' thirty-nine thousand seven hundred and seventy dollars. It is in the form of a Latin cross. The nave is five hundred feet long and one hundred and eighteen feet wide, and the tran- sept is two hundred and fifty feet long. The distance from 110 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. the pavement to the top of the cross, which is mounted above the dome, is four hundred and four feet. The ball and cross on the dome together weigh eight thousand, nine hun- dred and sixty pounds. The external structure as Avell as the con.struetion and adornment of the various parts within are quite beyond description. The nave and transept are tilled at their sides with many monuments, memory tablets, and splendid statues, — perhaps nearly a hundred in all. Arthur Wellesley (Duke of Wellington), Lord Nelson, and other illus- trious heroes repose in the crypt and vaults of this cathedral. In the interior of the cupola, two hundred and .sixty steps from the pavement, is what is called the whis2;)ering gallery, from a remarkable echo or jjrolongation of the voice by the circular Avail. A number of persons Avere seated on one side of the gallery close to the wall, Avhile a AvhisjAered utterance on the other side, just straight from us a distance of one hundred and eight feet, or by the concaA’e circumference one hundred and sixty feet, AA'as heard as distinctly as though uttered Avithin a pace of us. From this jioint the best A'ieAv is had of the ceiling -jAaintings of Thornhill. Here the celebrated artist, intently engaged in jAroducing his ideal painting, uncon- sciou.sly stood on the edge of the scaffolding and AA’as about to l)e jArecipitated hAindreds of feet below, Avhen an artist stand- ing near struck AA’ith a bru.sh the jAainting on the A\’all, Avhich instantly caused the master to leap fonvard and out of danger. A AA’ord to him reA’ealing his danger Avould haA’e thrust him doAvn. A bold stroke rescued him. How often Ave are influ- enced most mightily by indirect causes, we can hot tell. I should delight in these jAages to giA AA’ith the reader again to the great museums of London, South Kensington, the Lrit- ish Mu.seum, and others, Avhere 1 i)assed AA’hole days amid tlic most Avonderful collections of antiquity and art, gatlieretl from all parts of the AA’orld. It AA’ould be interesting to vi.-it again Guild Hall, AA’here the dijAlomatists of foreign nations are received in splendor; and Hyde Park, Avith the elaborate memorial of good Prince Albert, costing a loAung ]ieojAle six SPl liGEOX. Ill Imnclred thousand dollars, and glittering and sparkling like gold amid a sheet of tire; and the National Gallery and Hamp- ton Court and Windsor Castle — the royal and splendid resi- denee of the queen. But I must turn from these to another — the living monument of this Christian age, which stands higher than St. Paul’s Church. Every American coming to London wants to hear the great- est preacher in the world ; and although Drs. Parker, Hall, Farrar, and many others are here, i)re-eminently above all is the world’s jireacher, Rev. Charles H. Si)urgeon, who for a quarter of a century has been looked upon as the mo.'^t illus- trious man of the age. I shared in the anxiety to hear him; for indeed I had long cherished a high rc'gard for his work, and himself as well. His church, called a tabernacle, is a vast, plain, simple structure, built for the accommodation of the people. Its architect was Mr. W. W. Pocock, a Meth- odist local preacher. It is one hundred and thirty-six feet long. It has four aisles below, three rows of seats, and two galleries running entirely around the house. The puljiit is on a level with the lower gallery, and is reached by an aisle in the gallery directly in the rear coming from the vestry. The building seats about six thousand people. To get in, one must go early. Doing .so, he is admitted to seats fastened to the benches in the aisles or in the side aisles, where strangers wait until all those who have rented pews are in. Five min- utes before the services commence, you hear the loud claps of a man’s hands. Then all seats unoccupied are free — sit where- ever you can find a seat and the people invite you into the pews. It is a warm church, and the stranger has a welcome to all the room there is. The seats are plainly paneled, but have no scrolls upon them. There is no choir, no organ ; but a ]u-e- centor, who stands at Mr. Spurgeon’s side and leads the sing- ing. Just at the hour, Mr. Spurgeon enters the door at the rear of the gallery and comes slightly limping down to the large rostrum, surrounded by a plain hand-railing, and on which are several desks and tables. He has a round, strong, heavy body, — I should think weighing nearly two hundred and fifty pounds — a rather full, rough face, with a full fore- 112 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. head, over •which stands his hair on end. You are all curios- ity to know what he will do first, and how he will do it. Suddenly he rises from the chair where he has been seated for a moment, and advancing to the railing beside a desk or table, you hear a strange, mellow, and far-feaching voice say, “ Let us worship God in prayer.” lie has presented only one or two ])etitions bel'ore the 'Lord until you feel that you are standing at the very gate of mercy and love and he is asking a great blessing Ju-sf for you! The short i>rayer ended, he says, “ Let us sing,” and reads a full stanza, “ 0 Love divine, how sweet thou art.” He reads a full stanza each time, when the congregation all join in singing. He sings himself. Such a sweet volume of song it was never my joy to hear in the house of God. He then reads the scripture and comments on each verse, taking up not less than ten or twelve minutes in the scripture-lesson. What a sermon there is in this com- ment! And every word seems to weigh a pound, and reaches the ear of all the thousand.s. This is followed l)y an extended pra}'er. It is like a great heart, a dozen hearts all in one, talking with God. His prayer covers the highest and deepest wants of the human soul and reaches the broadest scope of human need in the various conditions of the race. After prayer another h3'inn is sung. During the singing of one service I attended, Mr. Si)urgcon called out after the second stanza had been sung, “Quicken the strain veiy much;” and they quickened the strain. Among the announcements there made one Sabbath morning was the request that on next Lord’s-da}' evening all the pew-renters would stay away and allow the strangers to come, and the sinners. I asked the gentleman who had kindh' taken me into his pew if the members would all stay at home as requested? “Certainly so, sir ; and the six thousand seats will be filled, and hundreds, at least, go away unable to gain admittance.” “ Is he eloquent? Is he an orator?” you ask. He is not a finished orator as Mf. Beecher is, or as many others are ; yet he is a master in oratory. There is a soul in him, a power of love, a power of God, which fastens him on the heart forever. He thinks by great strides, and makes you walk with him. J\^jE:inL4.V HALL. 113 He reasons so that you can not resist his words. He tells you what you know is true just as he says it; and you can not deny it. He is after souls, and you feel like going with him in the chase. He does nothing for show. He has a deep hu- mility which makes you bow before the Lord. It was my ])rivilege to hear him twice. The evening service was fol- lowed by communion, to which all Christians were invited, and in which iwecious exercise and ordinance not less than three thousand five hundred persons participated. The preach- ing is but a small part of the vast work done by this man of God. He is now often ill, having suppressed gout, from which he suffers at times greatly. His wife has been an invalid for twenty years or more. A son, Charles, is j:)astor of a church a little out of London, and is spoken of as an elorprent preacher, hut without his father’s heart and soul - power, though he inherits much of his father’s fame. Among the places of much interest to all Christians is old Surry Chapel, where the celebi-ated Rowland Hill, William Jay, the boy-preacher at Surry, and others of renown, u.sed to preach. The church is no longer used for church-services, and is soon to be torn down. I went into the old home of Rowland Hill just beside the church, and saw his study. The home is now occupied by a Wesleyan Methodist minister. Almost in the center of the church, from beneath the spot where the pulpit formerly stood, was the opening in the floor where some months before they took uj) the body of Mr. Hill, .quite before it was light in the morning so as to avoid the crowd, and removed it to where it now rests beneath the Lin- coln Memorial Tower, which forms a part of the splendid church of Newman Hall, the latest preacher at Surry, but who now has a magnificent church recently built. He is a giant in the gospel, and aims at the conversion of the people. His tall form is used to every inch as he pleads with men to accept Christ now. While his church is not nearly so large, though much finer, and his congregation less enthusiastic than Spurgeon’s, he nevertheless exerts a powerful influence in this city ; and most Americans visiting London are wont to hear him. s CHAPTER VII. Ecumenical Conference — Churches Represented — United Brethren in the Conference — Opening Service— Entertainments— Lord Mayor of Lon- don — Order of Exercises — Results of the Conference. chapter must be devoted to the Methodist Ecu- - menical Conference, which assembled in City Road Chapel, London, AVednesday, September 7th, 1881, 'at 10:00 a.m., and continued thirteen days. Xot only have the American bodies represented been interested in this assembly, but, indeed, all Protestant Christen- dom had for several years looked forward to it Avith deep interest. To give some idea of this assembly, and hoAv far it may justly claim to be ecumenical, it may be necessary to name the bodies represented, and the number of representatives present. From east of the Atlantic : Wesleyan Methodist, eighty -six; Irish Methodist, ten; Methodist New Connec- tion, twelve; Primitive Methodist, thirty -six; Bible Chris- tian, ten; United Methodist, tAventy-two; "Wesleyan Reform Union, four; United Free Gospel, tAvo; French Methodist, tAA’O; Australian Methodist, sixteen — making a total of tAVo hundred. From Avest of the Atlantic : Methodist Episcopal Church, eighty; Method%t Episcopal Church South, thirty- eight; Methodist Protestant, six; Evangelical Association, two; United Brethren in Christ, tAvo; American Wesleyan, tAA’o; Free Methodist, tAvo; Primitive Methodist Church in the United States, tAvo; Independent Methodist, tAvo; Con- gregational Methodist, tAvo; African Methodist Episcopal, tAvelve ; African Methodist Episcopal Zion, ten ; Colored 114 UNITED BRETHREN IN THE CONFERENCE. 115 Methodist Episcopal Church of America, six; Methodist Church of Cauada, twelve; Methodist Episcoixil of Canada, four; Primitive Methodist of Canada, two; Canada Bible Christian, one — making a total of one hundred and eighty- five, and a grand total of members of the conference of three hundred and eighty -five picked men of God; every one of them chosen men of valor, who can draw well the gospel bow. It may serve the interests of future history to state here the circumstances and the conditions upon which the United Brethren in Christ became represented in this great body. The General Conference which met in Westfield, Illinois, May, 1877, declined an invitation to join in the conference. Four years later, at the General Conference held at Lisbon, Iowa, May, 1881, the question was referred to a committee consisting of E. B. Kephart, N. Castle, J. Weaver, L. Davis, and J. W. Hott. That committee reported and recom- mended the adoption of the following paper, which was in- dorsed by the conference : Upon the answer of Bishop Weaver, on behalf of the United Brethren in Christ, to the Executive Committee of the Ecumenical Conference declining to accept an invitation to join in the Ecumenical Conference in London, on the grounds that we are not a Methodist bodj', said commit- tee reported to the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, held last May, that though our church was not nominally Methodistic, yet, being substantially such, it was hoped that we would yet participate in the proposed conierence. The Executive Committee (American section) in January last resolved that six remaining delegates be allowed to the United Brethren in Christ should they conclude to join the council. In considering this question we believe the following to be worthy of adoption : First. The United Brethren in Christ is not nominally, or in any organic sense, a Methodist body. Second. In religion, doctrine, experience, and methods of ecclesiastical work, as well as in church-polity, we more nearly resemble the group of churches uniting in this council than any other we could hope to find a classification with in a great ecumenical conference. And inasmuch as this Ecumenical Conference is not legislative, as to doctrine, church- polity, or church-organization, we recommend that there be appointed two delegates, with a like number of alternates, to represent us in that great council. 116 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. The bishops appointed Rev. H. A. Thomj^son, D. D., and Rev. J. W. Hott, to attend this Ecumenical Conference. Of the historic place of the assembling of this conference, an- other chapter must s])eak. City Road Chapel has a seating capacity of about one thousand two hundred. Admi.s.sion to the exerci.ses was upon tickets issued to the members of the conference; and these tickets were in great demand. This was especially true for the Oldening session. To Rev. Dr. G. Osborn, president of the British Wesleyan Methodist Conference, a venerable preacher in England, was given the honor of opening the services of this august gath- ering. This was done in the use of the Ejriscopal service, which occupied nearly an hour. Americans wished that some more simple and special order of service had been adopted. They could not participate in tlie exercises to any considerable extent from two causes. First, they were not familiar with it, and did not know how, where, or when to join in ; secondly, they did not believe in this method of wor- shiping God — at least for Methodists. They felt this especially when, two or three times, prayers were read during the serv- ice for “Queen Victoria and the Prince of Wales, and all the royal family,” etc., but for the rulers of no other land — not even for the suffering President of our own afflicted nation. John Wesley’s mistake, like that of Luther, was in not cut- ting clear from the dead-weights which he carried out of the church whence he came; and this was a mistake at the open- ing of the Ecumenical Conference, however well intended or devoutly participated in by those who conducted it. The Wesleyan Methodists of England use the liturgy in their reg- ular service. Bishop Jlatthew Simpson, D. D., LL. D., of the Methodist Episcopal Church, preached the opening sermon, from the text, “ The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.” (John vi. 63.) He showed that the Avords of Christ reveal the spiritual and eternal ; that they are attended by an unseen spiritual power which gives them spirit and ENTER TAINMENTS. 117 life. He then proceeded to discuss the elements combined in the great revival under the Wesleys, and the peculiarities of the organized movement in the Methodist churches — showing how and why it was evident that the word of (tod had been the spirit and life of this great evangelizing force. He closed with an earnest exhortation to the churches to renew their vows of allegiance to Christ. The bishop is not profound; yet he is thoughtful. He does not possess a stirring and flashy el- oquence ; yet his words have a simplicity, beauty, artlessness, and fervor w'hich have cau.sed him long to stand at the head of Methodist pulpit-orators. He is tall and commanding in per-son, though stooped by age, and has a clean, smooth, deli- cate, yet strong face. His voice is clear and musical, though almost as fine as that of a woman. He makes no effort at oratory, but so talks as to interest and touch the hearts of the people. His sermon here was worthy of the occasion, and of his enviable record of usefulness, eloquence, and piety made through the years past. Soon after the close of the sermon, which occupied an hour and a half in delivery, the dele- gates united in celebrating the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. Revs. G. Bond, J. S. Withington, A. C. George, and Dr. Sutherland were elected secretaries. Dr. Osborn delivered the address of welcome, and Bishop McTyeire and Bishop Warren and Rev. George Douglas responded. The Religious Tract Society of London gave a splendid breakfast the second day, at 8 : 00 a. m., at Exeter Hall. The society always transacts its business at the rooms on Paternoster (our father) Row, during breakfast. Here the American delegates learned how it is done. Dr. AVhite, the secretary, read the letters and re- ports for the week, from a pulpit, while the company break- fasted, and managed to complete his part in time. Thus do the English mix breakfast and business. I must also men- tion the splendid reception at the Mansion House, by the lord mayor of London, on the evening of the same day. The entire conference, with many other ministers and ladies, were invited, making a company in all of seven or eight hundred 118 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. guests. The state apartments were brilliantly lighted and decorated for the occasion. The splendid Egyptian Hall, after the reception and formal presentation of each guest, was made the scene of such a business as never before was trans- acted there. The lord mayor was greeted with great warmth and applause. His address of welcome for warmth and intelli- gent view of tlie gospel-work of the churches whose represent- atives were being entertained could not have been excelled. After responsive addresses, refreshments and supper were .served in the Long Parlor. The lord mayor, Hon. William McArthur, M. P., is, I believe, the son of a Methodist preacher, and Avas a member of the Ecumenical Conference. He is a large-bodied, large-hearted, noble specimen of manhood, whose pleasant face shows that Avhile he had the faculty and oppor- tunity of making these representatives of churches which cover the globe happy, he Avas himself the happiest of the liaj)py. Hundreds of hearts Avish him, Avhen done with Lon- don, to be “ruler over ten cities” in the celestial Avorld. Other entertainments and great meetings in the interest of moral reform Avere held at various times during the confer- ence, in various churches and in Exeter Hall. On the Sab- baths about tAvo hundred preachers Avere employed preaching in Auirious parts of the great city. The sessions of the conference opened at 10 : 00 A. M. and at 2:30 P. M., Avith a recess of an hour and a half for lunch, Avhich Avas furnished gratuitously to the members of the con- ference at rooms near the church. The order of exercises Avas placed in the hands of a com- mittee, Avho arranged for a presiding officer for each day’s ses- sions. Bishop Peck presided at the first regular business session, and thereafter the selections Avere made from the east- ern and Avestern sections alternately. The speakers also alter- nated from the eastern and Avestern sections. When a speaker from the eastern section addressed the conference upon any leading topic he Avas folloAved by an invited speaker from the Avestern section, and vice versa. No person addressing the conference in the leading programme-address was allowed to ORDER OF EXERCISES. 119 proceed longer than twenty minutes, nor any invited speaker following longer than ten minutes. After these two addresses Avere given on any topic it then passed to the conference, and thirty minutes were allowed for its discussion, in which any member might participate, but not to exceed five minutes in a speech, and not to speak more than once on any topic. The discussion as arranged by the Executive Committee took in a wide range of subjects, embracing every phase of the progress, development, and agencies of the various branches of the Methodist Church. The addresses were full of profound thought; and thoroughness of investigation was the aim of most of the speakers. Only a feAV aimed at display. The colored members of the conference were given prominence on the programme, and some of them justly Avon high esteem. The rigid rules limiting to so short a time all the speakers, Avhich Avere at the opening felt by some to be too unyielding, Avere soon fully A'indicated. About one third of the members of the conference did the speaking, another third tried faith- fully to get the floor but failed, and another third bore in quiet tlie speeches they would rather have made themselves. With the limit to tAventy minutes upon all the leading speeches, and ten minutes to the invited speakers, and five to the others, if no one should have spoken tAvice during the conference, only about tAVO thirds of the members could have been heard during the business sessions of tAveh^e days. Among the most frequent and influential speakers on the floor of the conference Avere Bishop Simpson of the Methodist Episcopal Church, E. E. Jenkins of the British Wesleyan, J. M. Reed of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Bishop Peck of the same church, W. Arthur, author of the “Tongue of Fire,” Bishop McTyeire of the Methodist Episcopal Church South, Dr. J. B. McFerrin of the same church, Mr. S. D. Waddy of England, Dr. Buckley of NeAV York, and Dr. J. P. Newman. Probably more than one half of the members of the confer- ence were not heard at all in that assembly except by their A'ote. The effort Avas often faithfully made by those who entirely failed to be heard before the dozen others who also 120 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. claimed the ear of the president. Many were contented to let others do the talking. The last subject discussed during the first week was, “ The Training of Children in the Sunday-school and Church, so as to Secure the Largest Evangelical Denominational Results,” by Dr. H. A. Thompson of the United Brethren Church. It is only justice to say that it was one of the best productions given to the conference. It had the excellences of real ability, treatment of the subject directly in hand, and of being so delivered as to be heard by all, the latter of which could not be said of all the speeches and addresses. It was received with universal favor, and conimanded the respect and honor of all for our church. The London Methodist Recorder, which published the daily proceedings of the conference in full, the day following the address referred to above, under the title “ United Brethren,” contained the following article: “The address of Rev. II. A. Thompson, D. D., upon the training of children in the Sunday-school and church so as to secure the largest evan- gelical denominational results, in last Saturday’s session of the confer- ence, calls to notice a denomination whose relation to the great body of Methodism is somewhat interesting and peculiar. Although its name is not Methodist, and its founders and early ministers were not members of the Methodist Church, yet such are the religious exi>eriences, the doc- trines, and the government of this body that it is eminently fitting that it should be among the representative sons of Wesle3'. Its founder, Rev. Philip William Otterbein, was educated for the ministry of the Reformed Church in Germany ; but as a missionary in America, having experienced regeneration and saving grace, his preaching, and its results, soon drew around him in Pennsj’lvania and Maryland such spirits as witnessed for the saving power of the blood of Christ. The first independent church was organized in Baltimore, in 1774. The efforts of Otterbein, Boehm, and of other early laborers were confined to the German language and Ger- man people for the first half-century. The growth of the Church during this period was slow. The relations of Bishop Francis Asbury and Bishop Otterbein were for many years the most intimate. These men were often in counsel respecting tlie formation and organization of evangelizing forces for the New World. At the ordination of Bishop Asbury by Dr. Coke, at the request of Mr. Asbury, Mr. Otterbein assisted in that solemn setting apart of the American Wesley. For many years the rules of the Methodist Episcopal Church were so suspended as to allow the United RESULTS OF THE CONFERENCE. 121 Brethren to attend the Methodist class-meetings, while the pulpits and churches of each denomination were open to the ministers of the other. The government of the United Brethren is a modified episcopacy. It has classes, quarter^-, annual, and general conferences. The General Confer- ence is held quadrennially, and is constituted of ministers who are elected by the members of the entire Church, each annual conference being en- titled to not less than two nor more than four delegates, according to the number of the membership of the conference. The bishops and general officers ot ihe church are elected every four years, but are often re- elected. The presiding elders are elected by the preachers in the annual conference. The preachers are stationed by the bishop, presiding elders, and an equal number of local ministers, chosen by the conference. Among the peculiarities of the United Brethren from the beginning have been strong opposition to intemperance, to slavery, and to secret societies. It is active in missionary and educational work, and furnishes from its pub- lishing house at Dayton, Ohio, a full line of church and Sunday-school literature. The able address of Dr. Thotnpson, the president of Otterbein University, at Westerville, Ohio, well represents the activity of that church in the Sunday-school work, its Sunday-school membership quite exceeding the membership of the Church, which has rapidly increased in the last few years, now numbering about one hundred and sixty thou- sand.” Now and then persons appeared with special and peculiar ideas which could not meet with broad indorsement j but it is worthy of statement here, that for the great part the words ■were practical and such as tvould be expected from those pos- sessing a holy ambition to carry the gospel to the ends of the earth. It is not -within the province of this short chapter to give a summary of the utterances of this great gathering which marks a new era in the churches of Christendom holding the Arminian doctrines as taught by Wesley, and his associates and followers. This gathering will be followed by others of no less interest. Still, the assembling of these delegates from all parts of the world, representing the different branches of a great body which only came into being a little more than a century ago, and now counts its numbers by millions, is a fact in ecclesiastical history which will be treasured in the cen- turies to come. A growth so marvelous is hardly to be found elsewhere in the history of the world. Nor w'as the Ecumeni- cal Conference the assembling of representatives of churches 122 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. which have reached their zenith of power and usefulness. The conference did not meet to ascertain what to do with the laurels won. Indeed, while there were at times utterances Avhich seemed like boasting, it is safe to say that the same aggressiveness was manifested there that has been character- istic of those various bodies in the past in the work accom- jdished. The triumphs of the gosjjel in their hands never were more signal than now, and the desire to increase them a thousand-fold never so intense. The range of topics for discussion was too wide to admit of thoroughness of investigation on many subjects of vital im- portance. Sometimes this necessitated only a partial or im- perfect discussion of questions raised; sometimes imperfect and one-sided facts only could be brought forward. If I should criticise the utterances and general scope of the Ecumenical Conference, it Avould be to say that there was too much disposition to parade the name of John Wesley and the achievements of his life and system, and not enough to honor its spirit and to ascertain how the churches could maintain the religious life and moral and reformatory power which he possessed, and which he breathed into the church he founded. The Methodist churches can not live on through the future years as great evangelizing agencies upon the name of John Wesley or “ Methodism,’’ but by tbe possession of the divine S})irit and power they have possessed in the past. The results of this conference must be salutary upon all tbe bodies represented in it. The churches of England must have had gross misunderstandings and erroneous notions re- specting the practices and customs and character of the Amer- ican churches. These will be destroyed or at least greatly modified. On the other hand, the American churches have never understood the peculiar condition of societ}' and church efforts in England and other eastern countries. In the future there will be a better understanding, higher appreciation, and stronger sympathy between the various branches of the Meth- odist churches on the two continents. There will be ecclesias- tical free-trade. Religious sympathies and fraternity will grow. RESULTS OF THE CONFERENCE. 123 This Ecumenical Conference will result in a better feeling and stronger relations between the larger and smaller denom- inations represented in this gathering. This is greatly to be desired both in England and in America. There has not existed that cordial and Christian brotherhood between the larger and smaller bodies of the Methodist persuasion in En- gland that would have most honored God. It will hardly be claimed that the Christian feeling has always been exce.ssive even between the larger Methodist bodies in tbe United States. Then, sometimes the feeling of some of the larger bodies toward the smaller Iras been akin to that possessed by the whale toward Jonah. This is passing away. In the future years the larger churches will jrossess a more general knowledge of the origin and history of the smaller churches represented in the Ecumenical Conference. The cause of their existence, the peculiarities of their govern- ment, and the principles of moral reform held by them will be more highlj' honored. The reasons for their having toiled and struggled to build up tbeir own institutions will be more apparent. The larger bodies of the Methodists will appreci- ate the principles and methods of ecclesiastical government possessed by the smaller bodies, though they may not approve them. In this way the smaller bodies will in tul'ii exert no narrow or trivial influence upon the larger. It is not out of the possibilities of the future that tliis first Methodist Ecumenical Conference may result in closer and even organic union of some of the smaller bodies which were represented in it. There are such as could doubtless be more effective against the powers of darkness if such relations ex- isted. Between some there seem to be but few barriers to such union. Nor is it to be considered outside of the remote results of the conference that a better understanding should be had respecting the colored Methodist churches of America. The relation of these people will be changed as it respects their several bodies and the churches in the South composed of the w'hite population. Whatever may be our opinions, the facts are apparent to 124 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. all that Protestantism is destined to unite more and more its forces in extending the gospel of Christ to the uttermost hab- itations of men. The ideas and feelings which controlled the Protestant sects in their formation have become quiescent in a broader biblical interpretation ; and may we not hope in a better Christlikeness. From heart to heart through the throng of millions, a tender cord of sympathy vibrates at the common toil to rescue this old sin-cursed world from the j)Owers of hell, and bring its islands and continents to blos- som as flowers in one paradise, welcoming the return of our absent Lord. CHAPTER VIII. London from the Parliament Tower — Sinithfield — City Road Chapel — Grave of Wesley — Benson — Watson — Clarke — Newton — Bunhill Fields — Susannah Wesley — Tomb of Border — Owen — Watts — De Foe — Bun j’au — A Reverie. HERE are many places and points of interest which I liave not had time to write about, and much of sor- rowful association and sinful misery which I would ' not spread l)efore the reader. During my stay in Lon- y don, protected by those who were competent and kind enough for. security every way, I saw the gloomy shades and miserable griefs which haunt the wicked, it may be, and where these dwell in their poverty, shame, dirt, and sin. And the eyes also were thus permitted to look somewdiat on the scenes where mirth and music with display of richest attire throw their garb over the foulest social sins of the fallen. But this dark life of the great metropolis of the world can only cause one's heart to throb more earnestly to lead men to the noblest life and make them stand in such a life. It is not to be written. Through the kindly direction and commendation of a friend, it was my privilege to have a view of London rarely enjoyed by visitors — that off the clock-tower on the Parlia- ment House, by gas-light. At 7:00 p. m., one evening, con- ducted by a guide. Dr. Thompson led the way and the writer followed, climbing step after step until three hundred and thirty-two steps had been ascended through the tremendous tower, like which there is none in Europe, and we stood at the summit quite above the great city, glowing in the gas and electric lights which gleam like sentinels of fire on either side of the numberless streets and lanes and courts diverging, an- and crossing at every point of vision. Just as we orlinor fillip,, 125 126 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. reached the lofty eminence the great hell struck seven, in tones vhich sounded out far over the city. To stand elevated these hundreds of feet in the very mid heavens, with the great jiarliament buildings just below, and the crooked Thames illuminated by thousands of flashing lights on either side, in full view for miles, eastward and westward, and the busy, hurrying throng far up the streets, which seem too narrow for miniature paths, is an event j^roducing such emotions and leaving such memories as can not be forgotten. What busy life throbs down there. Men and vehicles look like miniature toys. There is Westminster Abbey at our feet, j’onder the prison of the Lollards, and at the bending of the river the London Tower. But oh, the teeming throng of people ! I had not really known what London is till I looked down upon it from this tremendous tower. Before leaving London I must ask the reader to go with me to Smithfield, formerly outside of the Roman walls of the city, where Bartholomew Fair with its revels was held for ages, and where during the reign of “Bloody Mary” the holy martyrs gave their lives for the cause of Christ. Here, close by the London meat-market, and where now nestles a little garden of flowers around an artificial fountain, there once curled the crackling flames around the forms of those whose only crime was that of tenderly loving Christ, among whom were John Rogers, Bradford, and many others Avhose names ought to be written here. Is this fountain in the midst of the garden a type of that fountain uf blessings to the world which the burning blood of these martyrs still pours out upon the garden of our God ? We revere the memory of the holy, and of those made perfect through suffering, but honor the Master the more. Close by the place of awful burning, before the days of Tvburn and its horrors, on the wall of St. Bartholo- mew’s Hospital there is a large stone slab, as a memorial tablet, with this plain inscription, “ Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.” “ The noble army of martyrs praise thee.” “ Within a few feet of this spot John Rogers, John Bradford, John Philpot, and other servants of God suffered death by fire for the faith of Christ in the year 1555, 1556, 1557.” CITY ROAD CHAPEL. 127 One feels like taking the shoes off his feet and consecrat- ing all anew to Christ as he stands in Smithfield, the scene of the martyrs’ sufi'erings for Christ three centuries ago. I must pass by many places of charming interest and spend a few moments at City Road Chapel, where the Ecumenical Conference was held. This region used to be the Moorfields, where Wesley, Whitefield, and others of their time used to preach to the people; and here was the first recognized home of the people called Methodists, in the old foundery purchased by John Wesley and his friends. In some of its compartments John Wesley’s mother lived for a time; and here she died. The present chapel stands on City Road, and has stood since November 1st, 1778, when it was dedicated by John Wesley. The structure is a neat hut plain one, adorned with memory tablets around the walls, on which are the marble faces of the illustrious dead. The memory tablets are to such as Richard Watson, Dr. Clarke, Thomas Coke, Charles Wesley, Joseph Benson, John Wesley, and Robert Newton. Near by the chapel are the rooms where Rev. Joseph Benson lived and died, and in which he wrote his commentary. Here is the first burial-ground the Methodist Church ever owned; and in its soil near the chapel rests the dust of Wesley, Benson, Richard Watson, Adam Clarke, and many other noble men, as well as sainted women not a few. The tomb of John Wes- ley has a neat though not large monument upon it, with extended inscriptions. The monuments to M'atson, Clarke, and Benson are still less conspicuous. In the front of the chapel is a more splendid marble monument to Mrs. Susannah Wesley, the mother of the Wesleys, although her grave is some distance away. Close to City Road, on the southern grounds, stands the old home of Wesley, in which he lived and studied and prayed, and died March -2d, 1791. Many articles of interest to the antiquarian are here, such as Wes- ley’s clock, bureau, chair, and book-case, and his side-table, and last but not least his little old tea-pot from which he used to furnish his preachers tea. It is rather dilapidated now, having lost its lid and part of its spout. It will hold over four quarts, and on one side is the following inscription : 128 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. “ Be present at our table, Lord, Be here and everywhere adored; His creatures bless and grant that we May feast in paradise with thee.” On the other side is this verse : “ We thank thee. Lord, for this our food, But more because of Jesus’ blood; Let manna to our souls be given. The bread of life sent down from heaven.” Just across the road is Bunhill Fields, which Southey called the Campo Santo of Dissenters. Most of the graves are filled with the dust of Dissenters. Under tliis sod, so crowded with old stone slabs, sleep not less than one hundred and twenty- four thousand dead. What a compaii}’ for the last day. Near the center of this grave-yard is the grave of Mrs. Susannah Wesley. On a jilain stone, erected in 1828, at the head of her tomb, is this inscription, — HKRE LIES THE BODY OF MRS. SUSANNAH WESLEY, WIDOW OF THE REV. SAMUEL WESLEY, M. A., LATE RECTOR OF EPWORTH, IN LINCOLNSHIRE, WHO DIED JULY 23rd, 1742, AGED 73 YEARS. She was the youngest daughter of the Rev. Samuel Annesley, D. D., ejected by the Act of Uniformity from the Rectory of .St. Giles’, Cripplegate, August 24th, 1662. She was the motlier of nineteen children, of wlioin the most eminent were the Rev. John and Charles Wesley, the former of wliom was under God the founder of the Societies of the People called Methodists. In sure and steadfast hope to rise. And claim her mansion in the skies, A Christian here her flesh laid down. The cross exchanging for a crown. Here are the tombs of Rev. George Burder, author of the “Village Sermons,” Thomas Goodwin, the voluminous writer, TOMBS OF WATTS AND DE FOE. 129 and the eminent divine John Owen. One pauses long at the grave of Dr. Isaac ^Vatts, the world’s poet, whose sweet song.s are yet the medium through wliich millions render devout jjraise to God. For thirty-six years he lived with Mr. Thomas Abney, at Abney Park, in the north of London, and there wrote most of his hymns; but at last the sweet spirit and jewel tied away, and the casket was placed here. On the monumental tomb is this modest inscription on the upper- most slab : I.sA.Kc Watts, D. I)., Pastor of a church of Christ, in London, successor of the Kev. Mr. Jo- seph Caryll, Dr. Joliu Owen, iSIr. David tiarkson, and Dr. Isaac Chaiincey; after fifty years of feeble labors in the gospel, interrujjted by four years of tiresome sickness, was at last disutissed to rest November XXV., A. D. MDCCXLVIII., pet. LXXV. II. cor. C. 5. v. 8. Absent from the bod%’, present with the Lord. Col. C. .3. v. I. When Christ wlio is our life shall appear, I shall also appear wilh him in glor5'. In Uno Jesu Omntu. Within thi.s tond) are also deposited the remains of^Sarah Brackstone, sister to Rev. Dr. Isaac Watts, who died Ajiril 13 th, 1756. On either side of the monument are engraved the simple words, ‘‘ Isaac Watts, D D.’’ The tomb is about four feet in height. A little distance from this tomb is buried the author of “Robinson Crusoe,’’ which has been read in all the world, by all people, in all languages. The monument to De Foe is aljout fifteen feet high and four feet at the base. It contains the following inscription : Daniel De Foe. Born 1661, Died 1731. Author of Kobinson Crusoe. This monument is the result of an appeal in the Christian World news- paper to the boys and girls of England for funds to place a suitable memorial upon the grave of Daniel De Foe. It represents the united contributions of seventeen hundred persons. September, 1870. 130 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. I saw man}’ tombs where sleep the ashes of kings and queens and conquerors. But there is one grave by whose side I had longed more to stand than by that of any other in the world. Here it is in Bunhill Fields — that of Bun- yan, the immortal dreamer, whose writings, next to the Bible, have been read by more people than an}’ production ever given to man. His home and cliurch and pri.'^on, to he sure, were all at Bedford, tifty miles away ; hut by a strange provi- dence Bunyan was taken ill when on a visit to London and died suddenly, and slee2>s here witli the illustrious in Bun- hill Fields. I passed by Snow Hill, where death overtook the pilgrim, and where he crossed the river into the celes- tial city. BWNYAN’S TOMB. The monument is a sarcophagus resting upon a heavy base, and is surrounded by an iron railing. On the top of the tomb lies the stone representing the form of Bunyan, the pil- TOMB OF BUXYAN. 131 grim dreamer. In the panel at the foot of the tomb are these simple hut sufficient words which tell the story all ; John Bunyan^ author of the Pilgrim’s Progress. Obt. 31st August, 1688, .E. 60. On one side of the tomb, in effigy, is the pilgrim with his staff in hand and the heavy load on his back as he a.scends a steep hill. On the right side of the tomb, in effigy, is the pilgrim well represented with the cross just in reach. The burden lies at his feet, having fallen from his back. In the panel at the head of the tomb there is an inscription : “ Restored by subscription under the presidency of the Riglit Honor- able the Earl of Shaftesburj', May, 1862. John Hirst, Hon. Sect.” The monumental tomb, with the figures, are specimens of sandstone which suffers much from exposure to that climate ; and it is a great misfortune that they now sliow signs of decay. I could not but think of the hard life and long im- prisonment of this great author. He was a poor unlettered tinker, earning his bread in early life by traveling through the country mending tinware and the like. Called of God, he strove against mighty foes within and without. He came up from the lower walks of humanity, suffered the keenest pangs of pain and sorrow, but so wrote that every human heart responds to the picture of the Christian career he so graphically portrayed. He so wrote as to command, tlie esteem of the most learned of the world, though himself esteemed unlearned. He struck the universal heart as no uninspired mind has ever done. Xo story has ever so thrilled to holy passions the human soul as the allegory of Bunyan. He was made to bear a heavy burden, but it has long ago rolled off ; and his writings have made the burdens light on millions of hearts. That he wrote “ Pilgrim’s Progress ” is enough. He has illuminated the darkest shadow of earth. From the dark- ness of Bedford jail, God speaks and shows us how light can come out of darkness. 132 SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND. Standing there above the dreamless dust of the writer of “Pilgrim’s Progress,” I fell into a reverie from which I was loath to part. I saw the pilgrim's sad state standing with his face from his home, clad in rags and a great burden on his hack. Then I saw him struggling hard in the Slough of Despond. Then quite beyond there rose the form of the cross, at the sight of which the burden rolled off tlie back of the pilgrim. I saw the pilgrim reading now and again from the roll Avhich he drew out of his bosom j the Palace Beautiful , BEDFORD JAIL. tTifa passage through the Valley of Humiliation. I heard Christian and Faithful and one Talkative in conversation. I thought I saw the pilgrims brought to trial ; and while Faith- ful suffered martyrdom Christian went on, having escaped, though with a sad heart. Then I beheld him ivrestle with one Giant Despair. Beyond there rose to my enchanted vision the Delectable Mountains; and on those golden hills were A A’ErERIB. 133 groups of white-robed pilgrims, — ^ Christian, Hopeful, Chris- tiaiia and her children, and vast and unnumbered throngs,— who talked of the land of Beulah, through which they were soon to pass. Then T saw them go over the river ; and they went up to the gate of the citj', and a company of the heav- enly host came out to meet tliem. And T heard the hosts shout, “Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage- supper of the Lamb.” And there were trumpets; and ten thousand compassed the ]>ilgrims about and welcomed them into the celestial city, the streets of which are paved with pure gold, — “Which when I had seen, I wished myself among them.” PART THIRD. FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. CHAPTER I. The English Channel — Paris — Statuary — Men and Women — Church of the Madeleine — Agriculture — Tlie Alps — Mont Cenis Tunnel — Ital- ian Skies and Landscapes — Mountains Terraced — St. Micliele della Chiusa — Turin — Two Incidents — The Waldenses — Pisa — The Cathe- dral— Campo Santo — Leaning Tower — Jourjaey to Florence. HE English channel, crossing which one reaches the Continent, is the terror of all travelers. The dis- tance from London to Paris is only a little over a hundred miles by rail. The short, quick route is by Dover, Y of which Camiibell wrote “ The dear White Cliffs of Do- ver,” and Calais on the French side. At this point the channel is only twenty-three miles wide. The ivater is shal- low, which accounts for its world-renowned ability to produce sea-sickness such as nowhere else seizes the vitals of man. I had cherished a mortal horror of it ; but what was my surprise when on the evening of September 17th the sea was calm, and I enjoyed a delightful passage to Continental soil. xVt this point Captain Matthew Webb, in 1875, by tire aid of sails and attendants who fed him beef- tea, swam across it in twenty-two hours. A plan is now in contemplation to con- struct a tunnel entirely under the channel, through which trains may pass, uninterrupted. The rock is said to be suf- ficiently solid to make the enterprise, — which has already been tested, — a success. 134 PARIS. 135 I had only time to spare to spend two or three days in Paris. One of these was a Sabbath. Paris is renowned for its beauty and fashion. Indeed, France is a garden-sjiot in creation, and Paris a garden city. Its great, wide streets, with shades and walks on either side, and often in the middle of the streets; its beautifully -arranged scjuares, to which all the adjacent streets converge ; its houses of ornamental beauty, six and seven stories higli, everywhere built of white marble, with the corridors l)eneath them for sidewalks, furnishing homes for almost two millions of people, make a city of beauty such as there is no other so fair in all this wide world. Paris is not a business city, such as is London. It is the home of fashion, pride, and pleasure such as pass aAvay. To speak of a Sal)- bath in Paris is, however, almost a misnomer. I should think that quite more than half of the places of public business PLACE DE LA CONCORDE. remain open. It is a gala day. In the Place de la Cnnmrde, the most extensively ornamented i)lace in Paris, or perhaps in the world, in the center of Avhich once stood the guillotine during the “reign of terror,’’ under Avhich Louis XVI. and 136 FRAXCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. his unfortunate Marie Antoinette, besides many illustrious persons and members of the nobility, perished, and where the peojjle then eongrc'gated to look coolly on tragedies, now there are gathered thousands of jx'ople, with carriages unnumbered, only to witness balloon ascensions, fire-works, and the Avild display of Hags and heraldry amid statues of marble, sliad- owed by the obelisk of Luxor from ancient Thebes. There are faithful, earnest lalxirers here for the salvation of the jn'ojde; hut they are quite too few. The Avomen are fair indeed, and the men are proud. The people are intent upon having a good time. The imblic as Avell as many priA'ate buildings are adorned Avith statuary and carvings, l)e.streAved as Avhen Au- tumn casts her leaves to the earth. You can stand in one spot and count hundreds of life-size marble figures adorning the great Louvre. The banks of the Seine, the j)ul)lic squares, parks, bridges, and dwellings are 'studded Avith costly statuary and monuments. There are enough rude, nude, and IcAvd pictures of Avomen displayed in the shop -AvindoAvs and at other places in Pari.s, and enough nude statuary here to send in a fcAV years any city of Europe into the damnation of the foulest social hell. Art and fashit)!! are not things to be Avorshiped Avhen they lead to lust and ruin. Tliere is no secretiA’e eoA'ering for sin here as in America. The A’cry customs' of society i)resent it boldly to the Avorld. The ca fes for drinking, instead of being behind shaded AvindoAvs and screened doors, are o2)ened wide, Avhile most of the drinking is done at small tables under awnings on the side-Avalks. You may often count from fifty to one hundred men and Avomen, seated promiscuously in front of one great drinking-house, at these tables drinking, laughing, smoking, and talking. The creature America calls a prostitute and casts out of society is here a courtesan flattered and adored. The statistics of Paris shoAV that one fourth or more of the children born are illegitimate. This statistical fact can only suggest the enormity of the A’ice and shame coA'cred l)y the shoAv and splendor of this proud city of Napoleon that Avas. The melancholy marks of the triumj)hant tread of the Prus- cnuiicil Ot THE MADELEINE pians who visited Paris a few years ago are yet to be seen in several ruins which stand out with blackened walls, telling the story of the siege of the city and its coii(|U('st after long resistance endured almost to starvation. But with all the pretended culture of Paris, with the social enormities of vice, which mingle in society until it is thereby permeated, I can not see how Christian Americans can send their daughters 138 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. here to be educated, unless they first lose regard for com- mon decency and purity of morals. In Paris there are many places of interest to the tourist; but the most interesting to a Christian and student of Chris- tian architecture, is the Church of the Madeleine, which has been standing for many centuries. It i.'^ a perfect model of the ancient Greek art, and seems to be fashioned after the old temple of Theseus, at Athens, though many times larger. It has a majestic grandeur which I saw nowhere else. It has no tower nor dome, l)ut its great row of Corinthian columns, which Avith artful majesty and solemn grandeur entirely sur- rnund it, occasions an impression upon the heart which feAV other sights produce. It is only AA'hen one stands under the moonlight shadows of the awful columns of the temple of Jupiter at Baalbec, in fsyria, that he is thrilled with such emotions as come throbbing to his brain under the corridors of the Church of the Madeleine. The journey through soutliern France is a delightful one. The country is like a vast garden. Here I saw the first stalk of corn after leaving America. Fruits are almndant. There were people plowing with four oxen — some Avith tAvo. What ploAvs,” our })eoj)le Avould exclaim. They are Iaa'O sticks, or one crooked one. The country is leA’el for over three hundred miles south of Paris, Avhere you come to Amherieux, at the base of the Jura ^Mountains. Through this vast coun- try the houses are neat hut humble, and the fences are of Avire. There are no such Avooden fences as belong to the Avooded districts of America. From this you enter the Valley of the Albarine, passing betAveen Avild mountain heights and lofty peaks and rocky towers, on the summit of Avhich, far aAvay, you can once in aAvhile see the chiseled form of statuary or the cross put on these peaks, as though to add to Avhat Nature had done in her Avildest mood. The passage up the A’alley into the Alps, the great mountains forming the boundary be- tAveen France and Italy, is the most delightful, bold, and im- pressiA'e on the globe. The Alps differ fronr the mountains of Ireland and Scotland and America, in that they are much MONT CENIS TUNNEL. 139 higher and sharper in their spires and cones; and the cuts and crags are sharper and deeper. Many of these heights are covered with green, while far up the slopes handsome little farms are cultivated, and upon terrace above terrace large patches, almost fields, of grapes grow luxuriantly. Often- times the vast rocks are stratified. Sometimes these strata are twisted as though some Omnipotent force had given them an awful wrench and half upset and half turned them around. Sometimes the rocks are gray, then again dark, and at i^laces almost as white as mnrble. What seemed strangest of all was to see many places in those Alpine heights crested with snow. Those lofty peaks, dressed in their hoary garb of snow, far away in the skies, looked like distant clouds. The valleys below were dressed in their richest summer green, and the farmers were making haj' in the fields skirted with great rows of poplar and evergreen, while to the right and left and every- where the A1})S lift their immortal heads of rock, covered with snow, in awful and indescribable grandeur. You can not tell where the mountains end and where the clouds begin. To- Avard the summit of the Ali>s the train stopped at Modane and I carried my baggage into the custom-house for examination, l)ccause Italy Avas to be entered presently. We had crossed the almost classic river Rhone, and climljed up amid these Alpine crags to a height of over five thousand feet, and still Avith tAVo huge engines in front, the car Avent up amid the clouds. Thus surrounded Avith solitary and impressive Alpine maj- esty Ave came to the celebrated Alont Cenis Tunnel, Avhich takes one xinder as much of the Alps as he can not climb oA'er. At this place the mountains reach the sublime height of eight thousand three hundred feet. The tunnel is tAventy-six f(>et Avide, nineteen feet high, and eight miles long. Its northern entrance is three thousand, eight hundred and tAvo feet above sea-leA'el, and its southern entrance four thousand, tAvo hun- dred and forty-five feet. When in the center of the tunnel, you haA'e aboA'e you the mountain four thousand and ninety- three feet. It Avas completed in 1870, after nine years of labor, in Avhich from one thousand five hundred to tAvo thou- 140 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. sand men were employed constantly on each side of the mountain. The train was just half an hour passing through it. Who can describe the feelings of excitement which pre- vailed here more than ten years ago when, after nine long years of work, the laborers paused to hear the sound of the strokes of the picks and sledges and chisels of those who were laboring on the other side.^ It is said that they shouted with the wildest joy. But if it was so here, what must it be to the faithful soul who has toiled hard to ])ress his way through dif- ficulty and rocks and storms up to the higher presence of God, when exhausted by the grappling of death he shall hear the angels from the other side ready to break through the gloom and show him the open path to the throne of God ! Tourists and poets have written and sung the fairness of Italian skies and landscapes, but their delicate and soft hues have never been painted save by Him Avhose hand divine measures them day by day. As the train, which was lighted with gas, came to the south- ern end merging from the tunnel, Hash after flash of light burst now and again on the sight. It seemed electric. But all at once the darkness was gone, the sun was up in si>lendor, the air light and fresh and balmy, and the very valleys and gorges and mountains seemed tropical. Here and there the people were plowing; and to do this it seems to require one man, from two to four oxen, and the same number of women. The man guied I)askets strapj>ed on their backs. ( I would recomnumd this for weak backs.) Some were thrashing otf the seed from the heini), and binding the hem]) or cutting it down. These southern slopes of the Alps are covered with hundreds, yea, thousands of terraces, one above the other; and these have grapes, figs, and fruits of all kinds. Going, down the mountain, crossing the Ford TWO INCIDENTS. 141 and by Borgone, the railway lies in sight of a lofty eminence on the very summit of which is the abbey of St. Michele della Chiu-sa, which is peculiar from the reported fact that, from some atmospheric or other causes, the dead buried in its tombs are converted into mummies. We had only a short time to stop at Turin, — four hundred and ninety-six miles from Paris, — the cai3ital of Italy from 1859 to I860. It was once destroyed by Hannibal, more than two hundred years before Christ, but was soon rebuilt, and since it has sustained a history illustrious for its industry and national struggles. Stopping at an Italian town is a little amusing. First, you don’t know anybody ; then the miserable folks can not under- stand your Italian, no matter how loud you halloo it at them. I shall not soon forget a little device to which 1113" traveling companion. Dr. Thompson, and m3-self were driven to at Turin. We must of course get something to eat. The time of the departure of the train must be ascertained. We found our wa}" to a large cafe in the dejiot, and seating ourselves at a table, looked wise and said to the waiter, “Cofiee.” He said something which sounded like “ bread, butter.” We nodded assent. We wanted to go to Pisa; so we kept sa3ung Fisa to one, now and then pointing to the cars and to the clock. Dr. Thompson did it this wu3' : Beginning to count, he went counting on his fingers, one, two, three, four, and so on, paus- ing and giving prominence to the fingers all the time, until he counted seven. Here the man stopped him, and motioned to cut his great finger in two just in the middle, taking half off. He had it — seven and a half o'clock. Here I must relate a little incident connected with the trip over the Alps, on the return journe3". In compan}’ with two other Americans I was traveling in an English car from Milan, in northern Ital}^, across the Alps to France. In the same compartment of the car were a gentleman and his wife and their little daughter. The}", too, were going to Paris, and were French people. The}" could not speak or understand our language ; we could not speak or understand theirs. They 142 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. were intelligent and refined, and possessed the highest cult- ured feelings and manners. Traveling together that day and night, how much talking we did — and without saying a dozen words each other could understand. The gentleman said. Monsieur, English ? ” I answered, “ American.” Taking us all into account, he answered, “Messieurs America;” and the good lady’s musical voice exclaimed, “ Messieurs Americie.” Then they talked much ; but never a word did we under- stand. They wanted to know where we were going and where we had come from. One of our company told them Italy, Constantinople, Greece, Pale.stine, Egypt, Pisa, Florence, Ven- ice, IMilan, Paris, London, and then, with a great gesture, said, “America.” With what expressions of delight they all joined and repeated the names of the cities and countries which had been mentioned, and then with expressions of dis- tance and joyous laughter they exclaimed “Ameririe.” Thus our conversation had run over the wide world, and we were kin. As we crossed the dizzy heights of the Alps the rocking and turning of the train made the lady very sick. Her hus- band evidently was a physician. He had a medical pocket- case filled with medicines, lie took out a small vial ; but the glass stopper was fast and he could not get it out, tliough he pulled and twisted at it, and looked heartily at it, and then pulled and tAvisted and pulled with many a gesture and ugly expression of the face. The good lady Avas very sick in her head. What was to be done ? The Avriter dreAv a match from his vest pocket and struck it, and taking hold of the gentle- man motioned to hold the neck of the vial in the little flame till it should heat and expand, and thus loosen the stopper. The Frenchman saAV it at a glance. IIoav that called forth lus grateful French. But not a Avord did Ave understand. But he and the lady forgot it not till Ave had all reached “Parfe” and had shaken hands and .said “aw reyoiV.” Thirty miles aAvay from Turin, south and west, on the front- ier of France, in a sequestered place, are the valleys of the Waldenses, Avhere live those people Avhose piety and heroism honor the Avorld. These Protestant, prosperous, frugal heroes PISA. 143 of suffering and persecution have steadily maintained their faith, occupying these valleys, speaking the French language, for six hundred years, and deserve oiir highest sympathies and honor. The Waldenses now number twenty-five thou- sand. The thought of their trials and faithfulness awakens a feeling of kinship — -not tliat we have suffered, only we love the Jesus for whom they bled. One hundred miles from Turin is Genoa, the birthplace and home of Christopher Columbus, of whom the children of America are taught two things; yes, three things— that he was born in Genoa, Italy; that he had a hard time getting off on his expedition going west, and that he almost discovered America. His statue is held in high regard, and stands only a little way from the depot. The city has one hundred and thirty thousand people, and is the commercial center of Italy. But plunging into and out of tunnel after tunnel down the rocky coast of the Gulf of Genoa, passing over one hundred miles southward, you an' at far-famed Pisa, about nine hundred miles southward from London. This antique city is one of the most frequented places in all Europe by persons in search of health. It has a ]ioi)ulation of about twenty-six thousand. It contains four things of interest. The great cathedral is one of the wonders of Italy, built in Tu.scan style in 1063. It is one of the oldest sj)eeimens of the Basilica style of art, with nave and double aisles, over three hundred feet long and one hundred wide. The statuary and paintings in the choir and nave are very fine, while those in the transepts are especially interesting. Directly south of the cathedral is the baptistery, begun in 1152 by DiotLsalvi, and completed nine years later. It is entirely of marble, in cii’cular form, one hundred feet in diameter. The famous pulpit resting on seven columns, which rest alike on carved creatures, is richly relieved by carvings. This structure is covered with a dome rising like a cone nearly two hundred feet high. The echo of the baptistery is one of the finest to be experienced in any possible vibrations of sounds. Westward a few paces is the old Campo Santo, sacred ground, or burial ground of the 144 FRANCK, 1TAL\\ GR EECF, AND T L RKE Y. olden city. Its nse as such hogan in 1188. The reigning arch- bishop^after the lo.'^s of tlie Holy Land, had fitty-tlirce ship- loads of dirt lirought from Jerusalem and ])laced here so that VIEW OF PISA. JOURNEY TO FLORENCE. 145 the dead might rest in holy ground. It is four hundred and fourteen feet long, one hundred and sixty -one feet wide, and about one hundrc'd and thirty feet high. The paintings upon tlie walls, executed more than five hundred years ago, show tlie skillful design and thought of that day, and present many Ix'autiful scripture-thoughts. The “Triumph of Death,” “The Last Judgment,” and other paintings on the south wall by Buftalniacco ai'c worthy of admiration The monument to Count Mastiani, the statue of the Inconsolable Widow, seen from one ])osition has a looked' deepest sadness; from a dif- ferent ])osition it has the expression of humor and delight — a fitting caricature of many of the inconsolables. .Just to the north of the cathedral is the Campanile, or leaning tower, one of the wonders of the world. It seems to have been built alone as a bell or clock tower. It was com- menced as early as 1174, by Bonannus, but was not completed till 13.50, by one Pisano. Its height is one hundred and ninety-nine feet and its circumference about eighty feet. It has eight different stories, with six colonnades surrounding it. Its peculiar interest is from the fact that it is thirteen feet out of perpendicular. Whether built in this oblique position or made so by the settling or sinking away of the earth no one can tell. 1 found mvse}f inclining, like the tower, to the latter view. It looks as if some giant had well-nigh pushed it over. The tower contains seven bells, the heaviest of which weighs si.x ton.s. The view commanded from this height well repaid the climbing of over three hundred steps to reach the giddy height of this quaint old relic of the ages ]>ast. The illus- tration on the opposite page gives a splendid view of Pisa, including the Baptistery, tlie Cathedral, and the Campanile, and the Campo Smito directly in front of the Cathedral. From Pisa a ride of four and a half hours on the cars, sixty- one miles, through a fertile plain or valley near the Arno, brings you to Florence, the city of art. It spreads out its fair streets and tile -covered buildings over a beautiful and far- reaching valley, one of the sweetest in sunny Italy. CHAPTER II. Florence — View of the City — Home of Vespucci — Dante — Savonarola — Uffizi Gallery — Portrait of Raphael — Baptistery — Incidents— Piazza — St. Croce — Tomb of Angelo — Galileo- Do Medici— Field of Art — Cathedral. fi F London is the commercial city of the world, and Paris its city of fashion. Florence is the world’s art- city. Its long having been the home of the masters, and its galleries which garner so largely their produc- tions of genius and culture, make it to possess the rich- est treasures that the lover of the beautiful in art coidd expect to find on the globe. Florence was tin; capital of the Grand Duchy of Tuscany, and of Italy after its removal from Turin, from 1865 to 1870. Since the middle ages, Florence has been held to outrank Rome as a focus of intellectual life. It lies on either side of the Arno, a small river with ocean tide. Its origin dates somewhat beyond tlie birth of Christ, and it now has a population of about one hundred and twenty three thousand. Its buildings are not grand and its streets are nar- row, yet the pavements are very fine and tlie city is clean and tidy. I had only two short days there, wlierc weeks would be desirable. Florence is not seen by beholding its buildings, its walls, its fine quays along the Arno, or by viewing its gar- dens, or surrounding mountains of inexhaustible richness of beauty. It is within the shrines of art that arc to be seen the choicest gems, the treasures of tvhich have enriehed tlu^ world’s beauty. Yet it is quite worth while to take a drive to the eminence in the south-east of the city called “ Michael Angelo’s Square,” which is reached by a splendid street around the city, gradually rising amid artistic dwellings surrounded 146 VIEW OF THE CITY. 147 by gardens of flowers choice with perfume, and adorned with sculpture which foreshadows to the eye what is to come to no- tice. On the square is a bronze copy of Angelo’s David. Directly westward comes the river Arno. To the left, climb- ing obliquel}' up a steep hill covered with vines, grapes, and olive.'^ is the stout old Roman wall of the sixteenth century. Directly southward, a mile away on a hill, is Michael An- gelo’s observatory, a large building with tall tower, from which he used to look down with pleasure upon the Floren- tine city which did him honor, and farther to the left the miglity tower or fortress constructed by Angelo. Turning to look northward or westward, the whole Florentine city spreads over the valley like a golden veil of beauty cast over an ivory face, stretching far up the distant hills. For miles these white-walled palaces sparkle in the light, shaded by the col- ored tile-roofing. In front and in the center of the city is the Piazza St. Croce, the pantheon of Florence, close by it the Palazzo Vecchio, associated with Savonarola, the “ reformer be- fore the reformation," and in front of which his holy soul went up to God from the flames. To the right and beyond is the English burial-ground where Theodore Parker sleeps, and Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, born in England, the phil- anthropical poet who could sing so sweetly, and with such love for Italy, “Beyond the Alps my Italy is there.” Far away to the right nestles the more humble home where An- gelo fivst saw\the light. Far over the city in the thin air the lofty Apennines rear their heads. The scene enraptures one as he looks down upon lofty buildings which garner so largely the treasures of Florentine art from the days of the masters, and upon the places where their dust, by the art of death refined, awaits the day of tri- umph over death. Only a little way from the banks of the Arno still stands the old home of Amerigo Vespucci, after whom America re- ceived its name. In that he has an honor such as has come to the name of no man that has ever lived on the earth. But he sleeps close by the vaults of All Saints Church. Vespucci’s 148 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. home lias the appearance of wealth and comfort, and wears the marks of great age, as does the old home of Dante, the Tuscan poet, which stands a few squares away. It is a nar- row, high, oddly-constructed dwelling, the front of which has been faced with new stone. One of the most interesting places in Florence is the Palazzo Vecchio, the seat of government of the republic, afterward the residence of Cosimo, but now a town hall, built five hundred years ago. In the time of Savonarola it was' greatly changed and amended, by his instructions, under the hand of Michael Angelo. Just to the left of the entrance is the s})ot where Savonarola Avas offered up to death in fire of marfyrdom. May 28d, 1498. As I stood close by the spot of his martyrdom I seemed to hear the words of the hero answering the bishop who purposely added to his pi’etended sei)aration of Savona- rola from the church militant, “ the church triumphant,” say- ing in heaven-aspiring tones, ‘‘ Militant, not triunqihant, for that is not giviui to thee.” I could see him Avalking out last of a train, and hear him say, as some friend tried to comfort him, “ In the hour of death God only can give comfort.” Here before him on the same spot, the same hour, were the youths Sah'estro and Domenico, Avho passed to heaven through the same fiery chariot. "What things employed the thoughts of the martyr ? Did he hear the cry of the mob clamoring for his death, or did he hear the song of the angels Avelcoming him up on high? Did he see the scaffold before him and the executioners there, or did he see only Jesus, ‘AVho,” he ex- claimed, “suffered as much for me”? Such questions can not well be suppressed as one stands on the soil enriched by the burning blood of those Avho had the heroism to die for the truth rather than to recant and live. The ashes of Savona- rola went into the tide of the Arno, but men and Avomen, strong and noble, in disguise sought relics of one they loved, and for tAVO hundred and fifty years scattered floAvers annually on the spot from Avhich the heroic soul Avent up to God. Now a great fountain has been placed on the spot where the stake stood., pouring forth its crystal stream, Avith statues of Nep- tune and Triton. BAPTISTERY. 149 The Galleria degli Vffizi is perhaps in some of its depart- ments the finest portrait-gallery in Florence. Here are many of the best works of Raphael and other masters. One wants to go there day after day. Thei'e would be always a new beauty to l)ehold and a i\ew joy to experience. As you gaze upon these portraits of strength and deep sympathy, they seem to come to life and look on you in love. One portrait which the visitor delights to look upon more and more is that of Raphael, painted by himself. Death cut him off at less than forty years of age. He was l)orn at Urbino, April 6th, 1483, and died at Rome, April 6tli, 1520, just thirty-seven years of age. His })ortrait j)resents the delicacy of form and feat- ures we should (*xpect in one so mighty in the delicate art. The striking featirres of the baptistery, its octagonal form, splendid dome, and indescriba))le carvings, have made it the resort of thousands for seven hundred years.' It has been used as a bajitistery for the city since 1128. Before that time it was the principal cliureh of the Florentines. The bronze doors .'^o widely celebrated are the product of the fif- teentli century. Here the children are still brought to be consecrated to God. One day as I visited it this imposing ceremony was being performed, and respecting it I have the following lines written at the moment : “ There now is a young mother, with her babe only a few weeks old, and by her the youthful father. They seem scarcely twenty years of age, and wear a look of real grace. He is a little timid, and she seems a little proud. An attend- ant of the priest takes the rich coverings from the little babe and places them aside. The priest comes down from the altar, and by his side is an assistant who carries a long lighted candle. The little babe is in snow-white garments. The young father holds it, both parents standing. The priest holds his hands over the child’s face and reads. Then he puts something in its mouth and reads on. Now they a.scend to the fountain. The priest dips his fingers in water and touches them to the forehead and now to the back of the neck of the little babe. Then the holy water is poured into a 150 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. golden bowl or recious stones wliich never tarnish, and pictures of fair beauty which fade not, neither dim with years ; and there are living presentations of thought and beauty and sympathy and unselfish love which shine as stars forever aiid ever. CHAPTER III. Milan — Cathedral of Milan — View fiom the Tower — Venice — People — Incident of Fasliion — Gondolas — Skill in Rowing — History — Church of St. Mark — Ashes of St. Mark — ^Horses of Venice — The Piazza of St. Mark — Pigeons — Palace of the Doges — Bridge of Sighs — Churches — Venetian Art — Paintings — Titian’s Last Work — Works of the Masters — The Campanile — Sunset from the Campanile — A Beauti- ful Lesson of Glory and Hope. HE most important and interesting cities of northern Italy are Milan and Venice. Milan is a beautiful city of two hundred thousand people. The extensive man- ufactories of silk and woolen goods make it possess large commercial influence. It is the capital of Lombardy, and has a history stretching far back into the past. The Em- peror Frederick, in 1162, totally destroyed the city; but it was soon rebuilt. Its long and severe struggle is well known to the historian. Sometimes possessed by the Spaniards, and then by the Austrians, it passed through many sore trials. For the last thirty years and more it has been united with the kingdom of Italy, and has made more progress than any other city of that kingdom. I had seen cities enough in Europe to satisfy curiosity, but it was well worth the travel of a few hundred miles to look upon the Cathedral of Milan. It is, perhaps, as a whole, the most beautiful building on the globe. After St. Peters, at Rome, and the cathedral at Seville, it is the largest cathedral in Europe. Its length inside is four hundred and seventy- seven feet, and it is one hundred and eighty-three feet wide. The wonderful dome, two hundred and twenty feet high, and the tower three hundred and sfxtv feet above the streets 153 154 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. around the cathedral afford a grand view of Italy. The roof has almost one hundred Gothic turrets, while over two thou- sand marble statues adorn the turrets and arches in the wall and various parts of the exterior. It was founded about five hundred years ago, and is yet receiving additions almost every year. Of its surpassing beauty the reader can form some con- ception from our fine illustration. Some one has truthfully said that it is beautiful enough for an ornament upon a bride- cake. The building is in the usual cruciform shajie, with double aisles and transept, with splendid columns. There are no less than fifty-two massive pillars which support the inte- rior arch, each one of which is twelve feet in diameter, the tops of which, instead of capitals, are mounted with marble statues set in niches. The most entrancing outlook in all Italy is from tlie tower of the cathedral. Nearly two hundred steps inside, reaching the roof, and tliree hundred more on the outside, bring one's weaiw feet to stand in tbe tower over- looking tbe city and regions bc3’ond. The citv Avas covered and filled Avith fog on the morning selected to make the ascent; but upon reaching the tower, imagine the sur2)rise AA’hen the air Avas found clear as crystal. What scener}' spread out before the eye 1 The fog and clouds beloAA' onh’ seemed to make the distant mountains more j)icturesque. Far to the east AA'ere the dim outlines of the Apennines; AvestAA'ard stretched out the bold form of the Alps. All of the peaks could readily be discerned. IMont Blanc and Monte llosa Avere full in sight, covered AA’ith snoAv, Avhile the Matterhorn, towering slender-like far into the heaA^ens, Avith its ice-ribbed peaks s[>arkling in the rising sun, presented a cone of sj>lendor such as I had never seen. Then far to the right, a hundred miles distant, stretching aAva}' to SAvitzerland, the snoAA\y peaks of the Alps glistened and sparkled in the sun like dia- monds in some great fire. Oh, the beauty of these Italian skies 1 'Whether ui)on the mighty orbs or the fair landscapes, or upon the snoAV-crested Alps, the_v s]>read out a sheen of clear and crystal-like beauty AA'hich fills the eye and heart Avith images of a fairer clime and SAveeter skies in the land above ! CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. CATHEDEAL OF MILAN. 156 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. Venice, situated on the north-west corner of the Adriatic Sea, is the most unique city on the globe. Thexe is nothing to he seen bearing a comparison with it. It is literally a city built in the sea. While it now has a population of over one hundred and twenty-live tliousaud, the sea washes the door of almost every cottage and mansion. Many of its people are possessed of vast wealth, and yet perhaps thirty tliousand are the veriest i)au])ers. The people differ from those of southern Italy, and aj)pear in manner more like the French people. Among the wealtliv there is. a great love of dress, and an exquisite taste. The features of many of the women resemble those of the Oreek women. During my ab- sence from America the style of ladies’ hats had changed, and the beaver hat had been adopted, ^'isiting Venice after months' absence in the far East, 1 was surprised — it was then late in December — to see all the ladi('s wearing those beau- tiful, large black hats. I supposed in my ignorance that this dress was peculiar to the beautiful Venetian women, whose dark eyes looked bcAvitchingly out from beneath these approi>riate coverings of the head. In Paris and London I met the same hat, — and, behold, it met me in America also ! This much I must say for the Venetian woimm, they followed the style more universally -than Americans do; for they all wore those hats. Venice is situated in the lagoon, or shallow part of the Adri- atic Sea ; and its fifteen thousand buildings, })alaces, churches, and dwellings are built on three large and one hundred and fourteen small islands. The front yards in Venice are water, the streets are canals of water, the horst-s and carriages are gondolas and boats, the side-walk is the salty sea-water. The foundations of the splendid palaces and churches stand up out of the Avater. Going to the door of the house, if you Avish to take a journey “up toAvn” or “doAvn tOAvn,” you call, ^^Poppe," or beckon to a gondolier to come for you Avith his lit- tle, long, black, slim boat, Avith its hearse-like cabin in the middle, called a gondola, and .soon you sit quietly on a soft, black-leathern seat. The gondolier, standing in the rear of the GONDOLAS. 157 gondola holding one long, slender oar in hand with which to row the boat, is ready to drive you where j'ou wish to go. Probably another will wish to row, which will double the cost. If you think a franc (twenty cents) per hour and a gratuity of a few centimes is enough to pay, you need only to say to the helpt»r, “ baAa unnf’ and he gets out. Show the gondolier the watch and tell him “all’ ora,” and you have it by the hour, and he drives you where you direct. When you halt at a church or at some place you wish to visit, some poor, beggarly old man will be there to persist in helping you out. You had as well allow him to do so, for he never expects to see you again ; and he will do it in spite of your protests, and then claim a few centimes of you for service. The precision with which a gondola is rowed is wonderful. The character of the stroke and the feathering of the oar through the water on its return for the stroke is the only way of steering. The gondolier never removes his oar out of the water, but plies it back and forth with a grace and precision which turns a sharj) corner and passes the slender boat within an inch of the stone corner or a passing gondola, but never touches them. On turning a corner the gondolier sings out, “ gid e,” udiich means, boat ahead. If answered, he continues, “ preme'' (pass to the right) ; or, “stall” (pass to the left). The grand canal is wide and deep enough for large boats, while most of the watery streets are narrow and the water only a few feet deep. There is a slight tide of about two feet in rise and fall. The marvelous history of Venice and the Venetian republic and the conquests of this empire in the sea adds a peculiar luster and charm to everything one looks upon. While its early history is clouded in obscurity, for the last twelve hun- dred years it has been a great factor in eastern Europe. In the seventh century — A. D. 697 — it is claimed the first doge, Paolo Luca Anafesto, presided over a republic, though for many centuries before a republic flourished here. Tradition asserts that in A. D. 829 the body of St. Mark was brought here and buried under the Church of St. Mark. It is not a 158 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. little impressive to stand where so generally accepted tradi- tion asserts the ashes of that servant of God were laid to rest. The commerce and military prowess of this Queen of the Adriatic made it for centuries the military power of a large portion of the eastern world. The Church of St. Mark, is the grandest, gaudiest, gloomiest building the writer ever entered. It is in its present appear- ance an oriental or Byzantine structure, here and tliere touched with European finishing. The building is in the form of a Greek cross. It has five domes, — one in 'the center and one at the end of each arm. It was built earh^ in the tenth century. Its greatest length is five hundred and sev- enty-six feet, and its greatest Avidth two hundred and sixty- nine feet. It is literally covered within b}* mosaic Avork AAWOught into A'arious pictures. These mosaics, it is said, cover nearl}^ fifty thousand square feet, and are striking in their oriental features and colors, while the gilding and ori- ental marble produce an effect not found in any other archi- tecture. There is a strange mingling of the fantastic, the grand, and the gloomy. At eA’ery view there is a richness of carving, Avith scores of columns, oriental marble, relief pictures of the apostles, in brass, representations of Christ and A'arious per.sons in rich mo.saic AA’ork. The entrance to the church is under a majesQ' of antique columns mounted here and there in order upon the capitals of each other, and under the only horses in Venice. These four horses of gilded bronze, five feet high, are of fine Avorkmanship. They are be- lieved to be the Avork of some Roman of the time of Nero. It is thought that they once adorned the triumphal arch of Xero, at Rome. They Avere taken to Constantinople by order of Constantine, where they remained until A. D. 120o, Avhen they Avere brought to Venice by Marino Zeno. X'apoleon I. carried them to Paris in 1797, where they adorned a triumphal arch. In 1815 they Avere brought again and set up in their place before the great Avindow in the front of St. Mark’s Church in Venice. The Piazza of St. Mark, a public square nearly six hundred PALACE OF THE DOGES. lo9 feet long and ninctj' steps wide, is the great gathering-place of the Venetians. It is splendidly paved with marble, and surrounded with palatial buildings, under which on three sides are splendid shops, where the finest of Venetian goods are sold. To the east end is the Church of St. Mark, and the Pal- ace of the Doges. In the evening this square is the fashion- able promenade for the people who crowd it till late at night. Xo one who has ever visited Venice will forget the vast flocks of pigeons which collect in this square every day between one and two o’clock. The story is told that six hundred years ago an admiral named Dandolo received and communicated messages by carrier pigeons which enabled him to gain signal victories, and since then the people of Venice have venerated and carefully fed the descendants of those pigeons. Every day at two o’clock they are fed in the cornices of the surround- ing buildings. A clock of marvelous design, situated in a tower on the north siile of the square, strikes the fractions of the hour; but to these strokes the })igeons pay no heed. One day the writer saw a dozen persons feeding these pigeons on the pavement of the court; but the instant the clock struck two all the birds with a bound and a flutter flew to their crannies in the siuTounding buildings, where they were fed. Thus they do every day, and no liberal hand can entice them below when once the clock strikes two. The Palace of the Doges contains enough of splendid archi- tecture, art, and comparative antiejuity to entrance one for weeks. It was first erected more than a thousand years ago ; and though five times consumed by fire, it always rose from the ashes in greater splendor, and for more than five hundred years has stood in its magnificence the delight of the Vene- tians. The Gothic facade in the west is a wonder of art in architecture and sculi)ture. Vast colonnades, supported by almost a hundred columns, below and above, reached by splendid marble steps adorned at every side by magnificent statues and reliefs, present to one as he approaches a concep- tion of magnificence such as he seldom experiences. It would require pages to describe the spacious chambers, halls, and 160 FliAXCE, ITAT.y, GREECE, AXD TURKEY. corridors, eloquent with illustrious art, and museums filled with all manner of things curious and anti(iue. Titian, Tin- toretto, Giovanni, and other illustrious artists of the Venetian school of art, made the Palace of the Doges one vast museum. The “ Bridge of Sighs,” across the canal on the cast side of the palace, connects the royal residence and capitol with the gloomiest prison one could well imagine. The bridge has a double passage within, so that prisoners might be removed to the prison without meeting or seeing any one passing the other way. Its exterior is adorned with very beautiful carv- ings, and seen from below as one passes beneath on a gondola it is indeed a handsome arcli structure. The many manacled forms and sore feet and sad hearts which in other ages have passed its gloomy }>ortals under sentence of torture and death, or life-impri.sonment in the little stone-walled dungeons of the prison, fittingly enough dedicated it the “ Bridge of Sighs.” Lord B^'i’on, who it is said had himself for hours inclosed in one of these dungeons to acquire some knowledge of the feel- ing of a prisoner, wrote, — “ I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying glory smiles O’er the far times, when many a subject land Looked at the winged Lion’s marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!” The dark dungeons, half fallen into ruins, where criminals and political conspirators were confined and executed, present as somber and melancholy a view of Venetian events in other years as one could well bear. With chastened thoughts I re- turned through the narrow ])ridge over which criminals and prisoners having once passed never again saw the clear Italian skies. Venice has many interesting churches, which with their splendid architecture and costly altars, and treasures of Ve- netian art from the hands of the masters, well deserve careful study. BRIDGE OF SIGHS. IGl BRIDGE OP SIGHS. Venice had a palmy art-gchool of its own, which made the Venetian masters. Venetian art differs from all other in its power to comhine the richest and strongest colors in the most delicate and trnthfnl ex})ressions. Its rich colors at the first 11 162 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. dazzle one, and seem wild. Closer study, however, reveals a charm and beauty which Aviu the heart. I can only men- tion a few of the paintings which I found most interest in studying. Tintoretto’s “Paradise,” in the Ducal Palace, in the large room where the Xobili, the highest authority in the republic, formerly held its' meetings, is perhajis the largest oil- painting in the world, and contains hundreds of faces in what seems utter confusion. Its labyrinths of human faces bewilder one. The “ Last .Tudgnumt,” by Palma Giovanni, on the wall of the voting-hall of the saiue ])alace, is a .striking picture, both for its size and peculiarity. It contains three parts — paradi.se, hades, and hell. In each of these are a vast number of faces, changing in expression to suit the design. A careful study of the upper, middle, and lower pictures shows you that the master has jmt one flice in all three. It proves, indeed, to be the face of his wife ; and so it is that he put his wife in hades, paradise, and hell, — not by any means the only hu.sl)and who, speaking figuratively, has done the same ungrateful thing. Giovanni, hoAvever, oAved his success largely to his Avife; for it Avas her picture that he could produce Avith the greatest felicity, and she became his ideal of the Madonna. Tintoretto's “Descent from the Cro.ss” and the “ Resurrection ” are also among the most touching and poAverful jiaiutings in Venice. These are in the Church of S/. Ginryin Maggiore. The delicate-faced bust of Titian, in the Church of Giovanni e Paolo, is looked upon Avith much interest. Indeed, in every church and museum there are great numbers of these choicest Avorks of art, Avhich by tlieir hundreds in number and marvelous beauty have made all ^"enice a museAim of semi-sacred things. It is marvelous to see the immense amount of work done by these old Venetian artists. Some of tliem literally covered miles and miles of canvas Avith their poetic, historic, and ideal conceptions. The Academy of Art is filled Avith the work of the masters. The “ Assumption,” painted by Titian OA-er three hundred and fifty years ago, is the master-piece of the collection. It really presents the Virgin Mary in the act of ascension above PAINTINGS. 163 the clouds, attended with the angels, while below, intently gazing, are the wondering apostles. The various shades and appearances of the angels about and above the Virgin show a skill of the master only excelled w'hen he produced the joy- ful, intent attitude of the Virgin as she looks heavenward, whither she ascends to meet the shining face of the Father. On the side wall of the same chamber hang two pictures of Titian which arrest one with deep veneration. The first, “Visit- ation,” presents the mother of Christ and the infant Messiah. There is nothing so striking in this small picture as the assertion that it is Titian’s first work now known to be in ex- istence. Close beside it is his last picture, “The Entombment,” on which he was engaged, in 1-376, when he died, at the great age of ninety-nine yeai's. The dead body of Christ is the center figure. Joseph suspends the body upon his own knees, while to the right, sad and tender, Mary in her riglit hand holds the pierced hand of her Lord, while her left su2)ports liis head. Bi'liind her the other Mary witli her right hand extended fear- lessh' puslies back the grim, gray, terrible monster Deatli, who in the form of an old man with sword in hand is determined on destruction. To the left .Joanna sustains the cross, while close above an angel holds the lamp — sweet emblem of eternal life. Placing these two pictures side by side, the one repre- senting the first and the other the last employment of Titian’s lofty soul and skilled hand, Ave have a portrait Avithin itself full of the most beautiful suggestions. Would that our lives Avere so fully from the first to the last interwoven with our Master’s life and sacrifice. I closed my observations in Venice by ascending the Cam- panile, a square isolated toAver three hundred and twenty-tAvo feet in height, Avhich stands in the piazza of St. Mark. This tower has stood in its ^Aresent form over three hundred years, and with amendments for almost ten centuries. The ascent is by a Avinding inclined plane, Avhich is much easier than steps. The vieAV from its summit just before the sunset hour is beyond all description. Below you see the unique city coursed through and through by almost a hundred and 164 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY fifty watery streets, which spread out a picture of delight. Far away through the air are the towering heights of the Alps, and westward and southward the Adriatic Sea, in which api)arently the sun goes down like a Avorld of fire in a bosom of blood. The sea of blood seemed to soften to a pale red as it skirted the clouds. The -heavens shone like burnished gold cut here and there in threads by the rays of the sun and shafts of thicker clouds. Half of tlie great orb appeared be- low and half above the sea. First in the sea it resembled a great globe, then a hogshead, then a tall goblet, then an in- verted cup as the sea grew darker and the heavens were shaded b}- a reddish hue. The image of the sun in the sea became smaller and smaller, Imt red as fire; now a crescent, then more slender, like the ring on a lady's finger; at last only a scarh't thread which hung in a dark-blue cloud, while the clouds and the sea mingled together leaving no traces or lines of meeting. Far above the crimson and golden-lighted lines shooting in the clouds rose more than a dozen conical jieaks of the Alps in dusky clouds as mantles stretching from the Adriatic northward far into Austria. As the sun thus sunk to rest in its bed of golden glory, the great bells in the Cam- panile rang out over tlie islands and red-roofed dwellings, and along the canals on the ears of the nobility and beggar, and cold, lifeless statues alike, telling all that the close of day had come. In such a sea of transfiguring glory, often unseen by mortal eye, sinks at last to rest the sun of the good man when he dies. Alas ! we so often hear only the mournful toll- ing knell which tells us he is gone ! We are too near the earth to behold the sea of glory and the Alpine peaks of eternal life behind the transparent clouds. Mourner — bereaved brother or sister ! ascend the divine Campanile of faith and hope and behold the glory already shared by the loved ones departed, and the splendor of your own setting sun ! CHAPTER IV. From Florence to Rome — Rural Scenery — Valley of the Tiber — Seven Hills of Rome — History of Rome — Population — People — Sabbath in Rome — Ruins of Rome — Baths of Titus — Palace of Xero — Trial of Paul — Roman Forum — An Incident — Mamertine Prison — Arch of Titus — Arch of Constantine — Forum of Trajan — Tomb of Trajan — Palace of Caligula — Baths of Diocletian aud Caracalla — Royal Pal- ace— Colosseum. ^Journey from Florence to Rome is a delightful one. ■> ■’ For many miles romantic hills are covered witli vint- age and fruits like a garden. There are no fences, Jjjja yet all is divided into small lots of land by the rows of 1^ olive and fig trees, and other fruits. The trees are not ! tall, but in many respects remind one of a thickly-set peach-orchard, with ])lum-trees intersper.seil. Everywhere the hills rise in bettutiful array of green and gold. At our en- trance to Italy the hills and mountains were terraced. In this part of Italy the orclnirds aud farms run far up and over the tallest heights, without terraces. Here and there is a small grass-field, and a woman watching one or two pigs as they feed in it, while she is busy plaiting straw. Now there are some cattle feeding. The cattle in the field and the oxen which are at work are all white, and much more delicate and fleet than any seen in America. The Italian oxen look as if they could travel briskly. They are fierce, sprightly-looking fellows. There is delightful scenery all the way down the valley of the Anio. On the summit of these hills are towns and towers and fortresses which have been strongholds for centuries ; for we are j>assing over the battle-field of Han- nibal, more than two hundred years before Christ. Here amid 165 106 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE^ AND TURKEY. the vintage and city-crowned hills and olive-dressed slopes the old Romans were defeated by Hannibal in May, R. C. 217. Seventy miles from Rome you enter the wooded valley of the Tiber. Many tunnels are passed, and old towns are seen nestling among wild hills; for indeed the hills are wild, and many of their heights bald. The ravines and cuts are deep. For miles the train runs along the gravelly bed of the Tiber, which here is but a small creek. Sometimes I saw the peoj)le hauling in grapes on donkeys’ backs. Great bas- kets hung on either side of the poor donkey, and a man sat astride behind. It is a marvel that the poor things do not break down or break up. There are but few vehicles. Once in a great while I got a glimpse of an ox-cart. Thirty miles from Rome the valley of the Tiber widens to a great plain. There it looks familiar, for there are fields large and wide. You could scarcely tell it from the valley south of i\It. Jackson, Virginia, looking to the right as you should come into the village on the train from the south, only the mountains are smaller and more broken. There were ])iles of yellow corn in the field. There were ricks of hay and straw, and cattle and sheep and horses, reminding one of America. But there are few houses in this A'alley. As the valley widens houses bect)ine more numerous. To the right from the right win- dow of the car as it rolled along the l)anks of the Tiber I looked down over the glassy stream and caught the first sight of the eternal city, renowned for thousands of years, and then of the dome of St. Peter’s towering up like the sur- rounding seven hills on which Rome sat and ruled the world. The train hurried along for the five or six remaining miles, darted under the arches of the wall and rolled past old ruins and splendid buildings; and I was one thousand and one hundred miles south of London, alighting- from tlie train in the immortal city — Rome. The famous “ Seven Hills,” the Aventine, Cjelian, Esquiline, Viminal, Quirinal, Capitoline, and Palatine are not as easily traced now as when the story of Romulus and Remus was planned, dating the origin of the city to 753 B. C. I had to HISTORY OF ROME. 167 search for their identity. Ancient Rome is largely unin- habited, and is a waste of ruins. The Aventine, Palatine, and Ca^lian are in desolation. Where there were once busy streets, now there are vast vineyards. The river Tiber runs through the city, and is, as Horace stj’led it, a ‘‘ turbid ” stream about sixty feet wide and twenty deep. Fourteen miles below, it empties its dirty water into the Mediterranean. The prc.^ent population of Rome is not so ea.sily determined. It is estimated at two hundred and eight}'-five thou.sand. Seven years ago the census showed it to be two hundred and thirty-seven thousand, three hundred and twenty-one, of wliom five thousand were Jews, three thousand five hundred other sects, and four tliousand Protestants. The people are slow, and take the world easy. One half the ])eo})le ca'n neither read nor write. Tiie streets, with the exception of a few prominent ones, are exceedingly narrow and broken. The shops are small, and poorly ventilated. The pavements are excellent, yet few of the streets have sidewalks. Women are to be seen everywhere sitting out on the streets about the doors of their shops and dwellings, knitting, sewing, and nurs- ing children — -of whom there are thousands. The men are poorly clad, and the donkey-teams are odd-looking things. The women are dark-complexioned and homely, and the men less strong in appearance than I had expected to see them. There are fine horses and carriages in great numbers, which are chiefly sustained by foreign travelers, of whom the city is constantly largely filled, many going there to pass the winters and to survey the scenes of interest, the end of which is never reached. There are many cathedrals of great splendor and adornment These can hardly be said to be for the people. A cathedral in America is a place for the assembling of Cath- olics to worship after their fashion. Here it seems to be a place for gaudy display, superstitious tablets about popes and St. Peter, who probably was never in Rome, and for the priests and monks who may be seen strolling about in their long black or gray gowns in all the streets, to celebrate mass in. Few of the people attend these cathedrals. I attended a Sab- 168 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. bath-morning service in St. Peters, and to my surprise there were not probably over a hundred persons ]>resent to attend the mass. Many of these seemed to be visitors. At other cathedrals I found even less. Protestant churches are doing something in missionary labors, and good is being done through the Free Christian Church of Italy; but the great throngs seem to he as sheep having really no shepherd. There is no Sabbath in Rome. So far as I could tell there was not one store or shoj) in ten closed in respect to the Sab- bath. There may be a few more persons on tlie streets with clean clothes on, but the shops and streets are as full of people as on other days. Thousands in open .sin, ignorance and dirt, of the poor dupes the Catholic Church calls its own, Avander about on God’s day or attend to their business, Avhile a few monk-! are chanting mass in the cathedrals in the hearing of a few old women, deformed or bent down by :ige, and a few younger ones bent doAvn by superstition. l"p in the Vatican the pope, pretended vicegerent of Christ on earth, is pent up in his chambers, too holy even to exhibit himself at the Avin- doAv of St. Peters to the poor dupes of superstition. They call him “infallible.” Along these streets I longed to j>reach the go.^pel of Christ in the language of the peojile. But this the laAV Avould forbid. There is uoav room for a dozen Pauls. The ruins of ancient Rome are only in part di.scoA'ered, and many of them must lie buried fori'A'er. Tliose Avhich have been excavated are from fifteen to forty feet IxdoAv tlie level of the present .streets of the city. Churclu'S have been built upon the toj)s of former temples, and palaces and batlis of emperors erected just above the ruins of former j)alaces. The baths of Titus, a vast ruin, are constructed upon the loAver ruins of the palace of old Nero Down under the baths of Titus the Triumphant, are still the chambers of Nero’s goklen palace and the corridors along Avhich he used to ])ass to and fro, sheltered from the summer sun by cool arches and splendidly adorned roofs. Some of the paintings and figures are Avell preserved upon the ceilings of these corridors, though placed there eighteen hundred years ago. And here you Avalk ROMAN FORUM. 169 over the same mosaic pavements on which Nero and his court trod, and upon which the feet of Paul doubtless stood when tried before Nero. We have something of Paul’s wonderful ad- dresses at Jerusalem, at Ctesarea, and at Athen.s. It is remark- able that we have nothing in the Bible of his “ answer” before Nero. Only from Paul’s own pen we learn that he stood alone before that heartless Cicsar. Was it in these ruins that he finished the “good fight” before being led out for execution? Was it here he reached the “ beginning of the end ” of the finished course? Was it here he at the last rose up in splen- did triumph, having “ kept the faith ? ” There is much of historic interest at Rome ; and yet to the Christian the trials, toils, writings, and martyrdom of the great Apostle Paul give Rome more real sacredness than all besides. The results of his life here are not in decayed colosseums or ruined forums, but in a gospel and Bible wbich have blessed the whole race, and will live through eternity. The old Roman Forum is twenty to thirty feet below the present streets, l)ut well excavated. Close by the forum are the ruins of the teni2)les of Saturn, and Ca.^tnr and Pollux, which date beyond the birth of Christ 484 and 491 years. I often gazed with wonder upon the old columns and walls, clambering over the ruins of ages, which still stand as dole- ful mementos of the past. One day while closely inspecting the various parts of the Roman Forum I was able to determine, as I thought, the pre- cise spot where the dead body of Caesar lay when l\Iark An- tony ])ronounced his funeral oration. I also selected what seemed to be the spot where Antony stood while delivering his ingenious and marvelous discourse. After having tried to take in that tragic scene and gathering a few mosaic-like peb- bles from the spot, I got too near the bank where the excava- tions had been made and tumbled down about six feet, but fortunately without injury to myself. Then I remembered, even from the place where the corpse of Caesar once laid, that there was but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous — and I had taken it. 170 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. A few paces north from the Roman Forum is the Mamer- tine prison, in wliich tradition asserts Paul and Peter were imprisoned, and where the zealous Peter by a miracle called forth water from below to baptize the prison converts. There is shown in the wall the face - print of Peter in the rocks made by his head, which, by a blow of a soldier was thrust against the wall. I drank water from the well, and saw the j)rint of the face in the wall, but as for the traditions and their origin I leave the reader to settle them according to his own judgment. No doubt Paul was for awhile confined here, and in this dungeon Jugurtha, the cai)tive king of Numidia, perished more than a hundred years before Christ, having been without food for six days. The lower cell, nineteen feet long, ten feet wide, and six and a half feet high, was formerly reached only by a round hule in the ceiling, two and a half feet in diameter. Now there is a narrow step-way provided, down whicli 1 crei)t slowly to stand in that solemn judson. Even now the thought of those dreary low walls around that deep dungeon makes me shudder. Close beside the Roman Forum, at the foot of the Palatine Hill, yet stands well preserved the Triumphal Arch of Titus, which was erected A. D. 70, to celebrate his victory in the conquest of the Holy Land and the Capture of Jerusalem. It is constructed of marble and travertine, or a kind of white limestone. Under the arch on the one side are reliefs repre- senting the coronation of Titus, and on the opposite side rep- resentations of the cajdive Hebrews, with the table of shew- bread, gcdden candlesticks, and other sacred utensils of the house of God. There are in Rome a number of these tri- umphal arches, the more noted of which I can only mention. That of Septimius Severus is seventy-five feet high and eighty- two wide, erected in A. D. 203 in honor of Septimius Severus and his son Caracalla, commemorating the victories over the Parthians and other nations. The brazen chariot and six horses which mounted it, with a statue of Severus, have long since disappeared. The Triumj)hal Arch of Constantine is the best preserved of all these commemorative structures. It was FORCM OF TRAJAX. 171 erected early in the fourth century, when Constantine pro- fessed Christianity. It is beautifully adorned with sculpture, whicli is said to have fornit‘rly adorned the Arch of Trajan, which stood at tire entrance to the Forum of Trajan. ARCH OF TITUS. The Forum of Trajan, adjoining once the Forum of Augus- tus, built in the early part of the second century, and now extensively excavated, gives some idea of the grandeur of those days. It was no doubt the most magnificent in Rome, being not less than seven hundred feet in length. The exca- vations now made expose a breadth of about one hundred feet and a length ot nearly four hundred feet. The old founda- tions of columns with great numbers of fragments of statues and columns yet remain. Near by, the Trajan Column a 172 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. marble shaft, with a statue, one liunclred and forty-seven feet in height, with a diameter of eleven feet, surrounded with a spiral band three feet wide, covered with carvings containing illustrations of Trajan’s war, and containing no less than two thousand five hundred human figures, stands in solemn grand- eur over the tomb of the Emperor Trajan. On the summit of the column once stood the statue of Trajan — the statue above, the bones below. But it has been supplanted by that of St. Peter, which now adorns it. On the Palatine Hill the buildings of Caligula are widely excavated, and exhibit vast chambers where wealth and splen- dor adorned the dwellings of the brutal emperor. The build- ings of Tiberius, west of those of Caligula, embrace what is believed to have been the private house of Tiberius Claudius Nero, the father of Tiberius, in which once lived and died Livia Drusilla, his mother, after the death of Augustus, for whose sake she divorced her first husband. This building is very interesting, and its paintings and frescoing upon the walls are well preserved. Higher up on the Palatine is the excavated Palace of tlie Emperors, built by Vespasian, the most extensive ruin seen on the hill. The vast royal room, the dining-room, the great reception-room, the throne-room, one hundred and seventeen feet by one hundred and fifty- seven feet, Avith the aquarium and other rooms, the uses of Avhich are not knoAvn, speak of a grandeur amazing. Broken statuary and the rooms of the gods tell a tale of heathen culture which Avell justifies the claims of history in asserting the splendor of the Slternal City. WTiat splendor and Avhat beastliness were once combined in those ])alaces of gorgeous structure adorned AA'ith the figures of beastly gods. The ruins of the baths of Diocletian and those of Caracalla shoAV a S])lendor and vastness beyond parallel. They date back to the early part of the fourth century. Tremendous walls, acres of mosaic floor, immense chambers, the uses of which at this day remain unknown, almost bewilder one. The circumference of the baths of Diocletian is given at six thousand feet ; and while those of Caracalla could accommo- COLOSSEUM. 173 date one thousand and six hundred bathers at one time, those of Diocletian had daily bathers of not less than three tliousand. The Palazzo Rcglo, royal j>alace, seldom shown to the i)ublic, is well worthy a visit. It was built about three hundred years ago, and was for a long time occupied by the ])opes. Here their conclaves wei’e held, and the elections of popes occurred in the large chamber. Since 1S70 it has been pos.sessed by the Italian governnumt, and is the residence of the king of Italy. The drawing and reception rooms have recently been fitted up at great cost, and their adornnumt with pictures and tapestry is ri(di and gairdy. Visiting this royal palace one daj' with a company, we were allowed to saunter through the royal apartments at great leisure. I do not at all envy the young King Humbert and his queen these royal chambers; but if I had to live in Italy these iXH)ms appear about as comfortable and tast}' as any I know of, and would answer quite well. The most impressive structure of Rome — or of the world — is the Colosseum, or amphitheater, completed by Titus in the vear A. D. art of the ceiling is filled with represen- tations of the creation of the world, the creation of Adam and Eve, the temptation and fall of man, the .sacrifice of Cain and Abel, the destruction of the world by the flood, and drunken Noah mocked by Ilam and pitied by Shem and Japheth. In the lower part of the vaulting are the bewildering portraits of the prophets and sybils — -Jeremiah, Ezekiel with a scroll jiartly opened, Joel reading a scroll, Daniel, and Isaiah. Some are reading from a roll and some are in iwofound meditation, while Jonah sits under the gourd-vine. In the Vatican, chamber after chamber and gallery after gallery contain the choicest productions of the painter’s art, and corridors and halls treas- ure thousands of marble sculptures and busts of popes and emperors. The busts of Nero and Titus show a brutality equaled only by the pictures of the face of Henry VIII. of 12 178 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. England, as seen in London. Before the “ Transfiguration '* by Raphael, his last great work, one wishes to spend days. Every returning visit would add some new delight, and fur- nish a new beauty to be admired and a new virtue to be loved. Nor would this be less true of “The dead Christ and Mary Magdalene.” Take all the colossal beauty and strength and masterly pro- portions of the cathedrals of Europe and combine them into one, and you have a conception of St, Peters Church, in the center mf which Romish tradition asserts St. Peter is buried, and around which the Romish Church has collected its sublimest construction of architecture and entombed its venerated popes for ages. *Its history dates back to the time of Constantine. Here Leo III. j:)ut the imperial crown upon the head of Charlemagne amid Christmas- festivities ten hun- dred and eighty-three years ago; and here emperors and poi>es have often come in splendor to their coronation. In the sixteenth century Michael Angelo gave to the church its vast proportions of design, to which, since his death, several addi- tions have been made. Its cost of building was about fifty million dollars, and its present annual expense is nearly forty thousand dollars. Its external is not inviting, and the inte- rior would be far less imjiressive than other cathedrals were it not for the immensity of its design. Its length is six hun- dred and thirty-nine feet besides the portico, which, if in- cluded, makes it six hundred and ninety -six feet. The transept measures over four hundred and fifty feet. The diameter of the dome is one hundred and thirty-eight feet, and its height from the Irasement to the summit of the cross is four hundred and thirty-six feet. Besides the high altar the church contains twenty-nine altars, some of which are entirely unused since the death of the ])opes t(j whom thej’ belonged. Over one hundred poises are buried here, — one hundred and thirty-two in all; and three hundred and ninety- six statues adorn its vast facade, as shown in the cut on page one hundred and seventy -nine. The elaborate altars, splendid columns, and overawing statuary make up an impos- ciirncii OF ST. peter. 179 ing magnificence n-liicli is only eijualcd liy tlie hollow pretense of infalli])ility of the delndcil pope who is imprisoned in his dei)artments up there in the Vatican. A litth* to the right and fronting the gre;ft altar as you approach it from the main eiitruiice is a bronze statue of Peter, whose big toe is worn smooth and bright In* the kissing of silly women whose delu- sion fancies some i)rofit can come of kissing that iron toe, as Luther once thought he might be justified by climbing up the Scala Santa — -twentj'-eight marble steps, — in another 180 FRAXCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY place in Rome. Tliu.se stairs are now covered with wood, and may only be ascended on the knees, they being considered thus sacred, having been brought from the palace of Pilate, in -Jerusalem, in the fourth century, by Helena. It is believed that Christ once ascended them, and hence their sacredness. Rut the world is learning as did Luther, that “the just shall live by faith.’’ These vast structure.s, including the Vatican with its pope and all its departments, are sustained by tbe money of the poor in all lands. While a few priests in isola- tion are chanting mass in the cathedrals, the crowds and throngs of Italy are unwashed and unsaved. Yet the Ro- man world pours in its offerings of “ pence ” to su2)port these priests and monks, who are everywhere to lie seen walk- ing or riding through the streets of Rome. But the jiower of super-stition is waning, and mu.st decay with tlie better knowl- edge of Christ Jesus. At Rome one meets many who have read more widely and who have come in contact with the wider world who laugh at the formal 2)ret('nsions, supersti- tions, and legends which jiermeate the Romish Church. On the way to the Catacombs you i>ass by the St. Paolo Fuori le Mara, or chajiel of St. Paul, founded A. D. 388 — a vast struct- ure, and wondrously adorned with portraits and statues of Paul and St. Peter. Under the great altar in the confessional is the .sarcoi)hagus of St. Paul, who is said to have Ijeen buried here by a wealthy and pious woman named Lucina, who was the owner of the j)ro23erty. One grows a little incredulous here, although no doubt Paul was executed a little farther out of the city, on the A^ijdan Way, over which he entered the city from Puteoli. That his body went to rest somewhere near here we can well conjecture; and it is a relief to think that possibly some jjious one ma}' have thus cared for the hero’s dead body by decently burying it. The early Christians called their Inirial i^laces Ccemeteria — a place to sleep; and in the Catacombs of Rome, outside the Aurelian walls, we find the same under-ground walks and tombs where saints of early Christian times found rest from the toils of life. These subterranean 2>assages, with vaults or CA TACO MBS. 181 niches in the soft tufu-rock, were the receptacles of the dead of the earh' Christians down to the beginning of the fourtli cen- tury. They are vast streets or passages far beneath the ground, with here and there a chapel, and an altar, where thousands were wra2>ped in cloths and laid away to sleep, with the lamp beside them or at their head, in hope of the final resurrection. The passages are only two or three feet wide, and the niches or shelves on either side, one above the other, were closed and sealed, being marked by marble slabs bearing inscriptions, sometimes in Greek, but often in Latin. The paintings and reliefs, a few of which yet remain, usually present an illustration of some Christian idea respecting hope for the dead. These passages lie one above another, and are reached by steps descending. There are from three to five sto- ries excavated in places, the lower being forty feet below the surface of the earth. If the.se vaults and dark aisles of the dead, crossing at various angles, and making a distance of many miles in all, could talk to us, what a story of agony and sorrow and fear and hope and tears they would tell. The perseciued followers of Christ often sought shelter and protection here, while fleeing the fiendish rage of hellish persecutors. In these caverns they found rest when over- taken by cruel martyrdom. As I wandered through one vast passage after another, discovering here and there a chamber once used as a place of shelter and Avor.ship, as the early ('hristians, surrounded b\" their dead, called on God for deliverance, there came rushing to my thoughts the utter- ances of the sacred writer which though spoken respecting unknown worthies may have been a strength and stay to the early Christians in these places of refuge, — “ And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment : they were stoned, they were sawn asun- der, were tempted, -NVere slain with the sword : they Avandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins ; being destitute, afflicted, tormented ; of Avhom the Avorld was not worthy : they Avan- dered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. And these all, having obtained a good • report 182 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. through faith.” (Heb. xi. 37-39.) What awful memories are in these old Catacoml)S ! Only a few of the bones are left to be seen so far as excavations have discovered. Long centu- ries ago conquerors and invaders of Rome broke open these places once visited with sacred honors to the dead, and bore away the treasures of bones. The tablets largely adorn the walls of Catholic buildings in the city. By a taper- light I passed through these regions of the dead for an hour or more, and was glad to get out into the fresh, pure air. Returning to the city I passed a few moments descending a pagan tomb, dis- covered about fifteen years ago. It is a great square chamber entirely under the earth. On each side of the square are nine or ten rows of niches in the wall, with urns covered with lids and filled with the ashes of the departed. Near by was a heathen Cremation of the dead is heathenish j burial in the earth is Christian. This is one of the lessons of the Catacombs and pagan tombs. The one anticipates a resurrection ; the other accepts annihilation. Into the Catacombs, Cliristian art early found its way ; and many are the Christian symbols which show us what ideas in those early Christian times were cher- ished by the dying, and what precious gospel hope presented its lamp of light by the tombs of departed saints. GRAVES IN THE CATACOMBS. temj)le, ivith an al- tar, etc., for the burning of the dead. This tomb, which presents a good opportunity to study the con- trast with the pecH pie who construc- ted the Catacombs, dates from the sec- ond or third cen- tury before the birth of Christ. CHAPTER VI. Paul m Rome — A Roman Citizen — Epistie to the Romans — At Puteoli — Paul’s Hired House — Dwellings of Jews— The Appian Way — Foot- prints of Christ — Panl’s First Viewof Rome — His Epistles — Success of His Ministry — Two Incidents — Paul’s Associates at Rome — Ref- erence to His Imprisonment — Lessons from our Sorrows. all the historic interest, architectural wonder ( and heauty, anticiuity and eloquence of art in Rome, I found myself more impressed with the incidents in the life of the great Apostle Paul, than with all beside. Paul was at Rome in the days of its splendor and power. 1 For ages its history was well-nigh the history of the world. Thus its historic connections cause a Christian to en- ter within its walls with peculiar feelings. Eighteen hundred years ngo the power concentrated in this city was such that the great Ai)ostle Paul felt the influence of a freedom it gained him as a Roman citizen, even in Palestine. Aside from his divine commission and his love for humanity, nothing gave him more boldness to preach the gospel everywhere than the protection he could justly claim under the freedom of that citizenship, though the center of his missionary operations might be across the sea from Rome. When Paul was mobbed in .Jerusalem, and was allowed by the captain of the band to plead his own cause from the stairs, the chief captain, being about to scourge Paul, was made to hesitate and tremble as the prisoner, bound in thongs, appealed to his rights as a Roman citizen, saying, “Is it lawful for you to scourge a man that is a Roman and uncondemned ? ’ “And the chief captain also was afraid after he knew that he was a Roman, and be- cause he had bound him.” If Paul at any previous time had 183 IS4 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. found freedom and j^helter for the great Avork he had accom- plished in the gospel under the X)Ower of the Roman govern- ment, he Avas soon to come in such contact Avith it as should assure him that his only sure refuge Avas in God. Yet, tAAm nights after his sj)eech on the stairs, the angel of the Lord stood by him and said, “Be of good cheer, PuaiI : for as thou hast testitied of me in Jerusalem, so must thou hear Avitness also at Rome.” Paul had long desired to visit this center of lAOAver, for in his epistle sent to Rome by Phu*be he sIioavs his love for the brethren, and tells them j)lainly of his longings Avhen he Avrites, “lYr God is my Avitness, Avhom I serve Avith my s])irit in the gos^iel of his 8on, that Avithout ceasing I make mention of you ahvays in my x>rayers; making n‘(xue.st, if by any means now at length I might liaA’e a i)ros{Aerous journey by the Avill of God to come unto you. For I long to see you, that I may imjiart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end ye may be established; that is, that I may be com- forted together Avith you by the mutual faith both of you and me. XoAV I Avould not have you ignorant, brethren, that oft- entimes I ])ur])0.sed to come unto you, (Imt Avas let hitlierto,) that I might have some fruit among you also, even as among other gentiles.” (Romans i. 9-13.) The testimony of the angel standing by him in the night j)rcxAared him for the issue Avhich brought him to Rome, after tAvo years of imx)risonnient at (’u'.sarea, in Avhich he often X)reached to Felix. Festus coming to the throne of Felix, and sitting in judgment ui)on the cause of Paul, j)rox)osed to send him to Jerusalem for a trial l)cfore the .Icavs. There is no grander sjAecimen of true manliness and her(Aism, or ])ro- foiAuder statement of right, than this long-im})risoned embas- sador of Christ exhibited Avhen he declared to Festus, “I stand at Cicsar’s judgment-seat, Avhere I ought to be judged: to the JeAVS have 1 done no Avrong, as thou very avcJI knoAvest. For if I be an offender, or have committed anything Avorthy of death, I refuse not to die : but if there be none of these things whereof these accuse me, no man may deliver me unto them. I a|jpeal unto Caesar.” And from this event and those folloAV- rAW8 HIRED HOUSE. 18.5 ing, Rome as the prison-home of Paul became a city of sur- passing interest to the Christian church. Tlie epistle of Paul written to the church here is the most important of all his writings, though penned before he had himself ])reached the gospel at Rome. When in the provi- dence of God he came to Rome he found a welcome. I went out on the road a long distance toward Puteoli, and read with joy the record of Acts xxviii. 1.3—15, “ And we came the next day to Puteoli: where Ave found brethren, and were desired to tarry with them seven days: and so Avinit toward Rome. And from thence, when the brethren heard of us, they came to meet us as far as Ap])ii Forum, and the Three Taverns : whom when Paul saw, he thanked God and took courage.” For two years or more Rome was the scene of the busiest toils of the great apostle. Here he was permitted to “ dwell by himself Avith a soldier that kept him.” On the Via Lata a small church called Saint Maria marks the site tradition points out as the place A\diere “Paul dwelt two Avhole years in his oAAui hired house, and received all that came in unto him, preaching the kingdom of God, and teaching those things AA’hich concern the Lord Jesus Christ, AA'ith all conlidence, no man forbidding him.” One day I Avent through that ancient place. The church on this spot dates back to the Seventeenth century. From the A'estibule of the church you descend about fifteen steps into the reputed hired house of Paul. Its location in the city is favorable to the truth of the tradition ; and its distance beloAV the surfac;e of the pres- ent streets again is favorable. Here Ave Avere shoAvn four rooms; and the appearance of the wall makes it reasonable that it Avas standing at the time of the apostle. The tradition is not proof positive. That Paul AA'as here in this place or some other, aa'c knoAV. We have no other })lacc ]>ointed out. There are no reasons AAdiy this may not be the i)lace. Tradi- tion asserts it to be such place, therefore it is probabl}' the identical hired house. And since other buildings of times anterior to those of Paul exist, Ave may accept this as his until it shall be shoAvn othenvisc. The rooms are not large, and are 186 FRASCE, FFAT.Y, GREECE, AND TURKEY. ancient in every apj:)earance. As I stood surrounded by those old walls in the small chambers, I could hut ask these ques- tions: “Is it possible that here within tliese walls the great apostle with a soldier chained to him kept his throbbing heart, Avhich longed to visit the churches that he might impart to them some spiritual gift,, somewhat at peace by writing those inimitable epistles which have come down tons? Can it be that from these doors and chambers he sent away Timothy and Onesimus, and others whose comforting ministrations he so much needed here? Did these old walls glow like ruby and blaze like pillars of fire as the Spirit of Cod filled the dwelling? Was it out from these doors the great apostle — the one hero since the days of Christ — was led to his ‘first answer’ Avhen no man stood by him, Init all men forsook him and left him to go unattended to the palace of Nero, there to stand all alone?” Over the door leading to these chambers is the super- scription, “ Caia autem venissemm Romam, pcrmUmm est Paulo manere sihimet nmi cuMndiente fy Paul during the two years while a prisoner there, and under the most discouraging eireumstauces. Besides the letter to the Ephesians he wrote about the same time that to the Colossi- ans, asking the church at Colosse to “continue in prayer.” “ Withal praying also for us, that God would open unto us a door of utterance to S])eak the mystery of Christ, for which I am also in bonds.” Among the early converts of Paul’s min- istry here was Onesiinus, the escaped servant of Philemon of Colosse. This also caused Paul to write about the same time of the other e])istles mentioned, that unitpie private ejnstle to Philemon, the “dearly beloved and fellow-laborer,” in which he heseechf's Philemon for love's sake “l)eing such an one as Paul the aged and now also a ])ri.soner of Jesus Christ.” At other times he alludes to his bonds and afflictions, Imt here alone to his burden of years. IIow deep and tender and .self- sacrificing the great soul of the apostle we can not tell, as he sent Onesiinus away with the hope that he also might have favor of God and be relieved shortly. Could it be that the prison-life of Paul had something to do in cultivating in him that heart of Christ-like tenderness and. love? Let us read a few verses he wrote to Philemon : “ I beseech thee for ray son Ouesimus, whom I have begotten in my bonds: which in time past was to thee unprofitable, but now profitable to thee and to me ; whom I have sent again : thou therefore receive him, that is, mine own bowel-s : whoin I would have retained with me, that in thy stead he might have ministered unto me in the bonds of the gospel : but without thy mind would I do nothing ; that thy benefit should not be as it were of necessity, but willingly. For perhaps he therefore de- parted for a season, that thou shouldest receive him forever; not now as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved, especially to me, but how much more unto thee, both in the flesh, and in the Loi’d ? If tliou count me therefore a partner, receive him as myself. If he hath wronged thee, or oweth thee ought, put that on mine account; I Paul have written it with mine own hand, I will repay it : albeit I do not say to thee how thou owest unto me even thine own self besides. Yea, broiher, let me have joy of thee in the Lord : refresh my bowels in the Lord. Having confi- dence in thy obedience I wrote unto thee, knowing that thou wilt also do more than I say. But withal prepare me also a lodging : for I trust that through your prayers I shall be given unto you.” What a heart of love pleading for “love’s sake!” 190 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. But Paul, the prisoner in Rome, whose preaching, though chained, awakened many until not only Onesimus but great numbers are saved, eml)racing even those of “Ckesar's house- hold,” and causing that many others should jireach the word “ with great boldness,” can not forget the first cliurch he had founded in ^Macedonia. His heart bounds l)cyond the sea. He writes his epistle to the Phili])pians also. It is one of the most tender of all his writings, and in it he makes more fre- quent reference to his “bonds” than in any other. It Avas Avritten latest. These afflictions Avere heavy and hard, and brought Avonderful experience to him. His trial Avas soon to occur. He should ansAver not before the JeAvs nor Felix nor Festus, but perchance before the proud and miglity Xero. He Avill soon “see hoAV it Avill go” Avith him. Yet he is not Avith- out hope ; for he promises not only to send Epaphroditus, his “brother and companion in labor,” as avcII as Timothy, to them, but says, “ I trust in the Lord that I also myself shall come shortly.” This hojie Avas not Avithout realization, at least in jiart. After a short season of release, in Avhich he again A’isited a fcAV of the })laces of his former iiiinistry, and anticipates meeting many of his felloAV-laborer.‘<, he is seized and brought again to Rome. Here then in the severitv of the la.st imprisonment and trial he is almost alone. Demas had forsaken him, “having loved tliis ju’esent Avorld ” and gone to Thessalonica. Crescens had dei)arted for Galatia and Titus for Dalmatia, and Tychicus had been sent to Ephesus, and only Luke Avas Avith him in this great trial. Wh.at a privilege he had! He Avas Avith him at the first in Rome, and Avith him at the last. In this time of imprisonment Paul wrote his last E})istle to Timothy, a second letter addresst'd to his “son in the gos2)cl.” The dejkhs, and scojje, and love, and sadness, and joA', and triumph of Paul neA’er appeared to me until one day I Avent doAvn into the dark chand)er of the !Maniertine prison in Avhich he Avas probably then confined. He asks Timothy to come to him, and bring Mark also, saying, “At my first ansAver no man stood Avith me, but all men forsook me.” “XotAvithstanding the Lord stood Avith me, and strength- TWO INCIDENTS. 191 onod me; that by me the })reaching might be fully known, and that all the Gentiles might hear : and I was delivered out of the-mouth of the lion.” In this great and historic city, amid the memory of these scenes, we can not forget two incidents which gave the ajiostle great joy. The one was the diligent searching out of his place by Onesiphorus of Ephesus when he was in Rome, and who was not ashamed of Paul’s chain ; the other, that mindful contribution sent by Epaphroditus from the church at Philijipi, who had twice before relieved his wants when he was at Thes- salonica. Though Paul had learned how to abound and how to he abased, and “to be full and to he hungry, both to al)ound and to suffer need,” by the tlioughtfulness of that churcli he was “full, having received tlie things which were sent,” by which they had communicated with his affliction, in that which was indeed “an odor of a sweet smell,” the perfume of which is i)recious until now. Such deeds are immortal. During the imprisonment of Paul here there were with him up to his sending away his first three epistles, Timothy, Tychi- cus, One.simus, Aristarchus, ]\Iarkus, Justus, Epaphras, Luke, and Demas. When he wrote to Philippi his epistle he men- tions only Timothy and Epaphroditus; but during his im- prisonment Crescens and Titus are with him for a season. In the last epistle, sent to Timothy, he mentions Eubulus, Pu- dens, Linus, and Claudia as bearing some part with him. Whatever may have been the influence of Paul's prison-life upon his spirit and character and the character of his writing I can not venture to speak of them here. It wuis a matter of intense interest. While at Rome, one day after visiting the “hired house” and Mamertine prison, I collected the refer- ences made by Paul to his imprisonment in the epistles writ- ten during his confinement here. It may be of interest to read them now. In the Ephesians we have these : “ I Paul, the prisoner oi Jesus Christ, for you gentiles,” (chapter iii. 1). And it was for his labors for the gentiles that he was in bonds here. “ I desire that ye faint not at my tribulations for you” (chapter iii. 13); “I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called,” 192 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. (chapter iv. 1). “ And for me that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the myster3' of the gospel, for which 1 am an embassador in bonds, that therein I may speak boldly as I ought,” (chapter vi. 19, 20, and two succeeding verses.) In Colossiaus he alludes to his prison-state four times: “ Who now rejoice in my suffer- ings for 3’ou, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in mj' flesh for his body’s sake, which is the chureii,” (chapter i. 24). “Withal praying also for us, that God would open unto us a door of utter- ance, to speak the myster\' of Christ, for which I am also in bonds,” (chapter iv. iii). “ All my state shall T\’chicus declare unto j’ou,” (chapter iv. 7). “ Remember m\' bonds,” (chapter iv. 18). In the short epistle to Philemon he speaks four times in reference to his state. “ Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ,” (verse 1). “ Paul the aged, and now also a prisoner of Jesus Christ,” (verse 9). “He might have ministered unto me in the bonds of the gospel,” (verse 13). “There salute thee Epaphras my fellow-prisoner in Christ Jesus,” (verse 23). In Philippians the references to his impris- onment are veiy touching indeed. “ The things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel ; so that my bonds in Christ are manifest in all the palace, and in all other places ; and man\’ of the brethren in the Lord, waxing confident by mj' bonds, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. .Some indeed preach Christ even of envy and strife ; and some also of good will : the one preach Christ of contention, not sincerelj^, supposing to add affliction to my bonds.” (Chapter i. 12-1(5.) “As both in my bonds and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel ye all are partakers of my grace,” (chapter i. 7). “ The same conflict which ye saw in me and now hear to be in me,” (chap- ter i. 30). “If I be offered tipon the sacrifice and service of your faith,” (chapter ii. 17). “ So soon as I shall see how it will go with me,” (chapter ii. 23). “Lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow,” (chapter ii. 27). In his Second Epistle to Timothy we have these passages which refer to his per- ilous state : “ Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of the Lord, nor of me his prisoner,” (chapter i. 8). “ For the which cause I also suffer these things,” (chapter i. 12). “ All they which are in Asia be turned away from me,” (chapter i. 15). “ Wherein I suffer trouble as an evil-doer, even unto bonds,” (chapter ii. 9). “At mj’ first answer,” etc., (chapter iv. 16, 17.) Then, as though to light a candle to burn on and on above the head of eveiw suffering, toiling, persecuted, and afflicted follower of Christ, as he saw the end just ahead, his prison-life at a close at last, and the storms subsiding with him in an eternal calm, he says, “ For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand: I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day : and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.” (II. Timothy iv. 6-8.) LESSONS FROM OUR SORROWS. 193 Thus we have lingered around the “ hired house ” and this dungeon jn-ison of the grandest character known on earth since Christ graced the liuinhle ])aths of mortals. God’s ways are mysterious. From the Wartburg prison, in the forests of Germany, God gave his Bible to the world. Fnjin the Bedford Jail he gave the world “ Pilgrim’s Progress."’ From the pri.son- home of Paul he gave the churehes and the world these treas- ures. Shall not the afflicted, tin; burdened, the sorrowful, however humble, learn a lesson of faitli and i)atience and la- lior from these meditations? There are times when we walk in darkness, and when there is no light. There are days of sore temptation and trial ; there are seasons of loss and mis- fortune. Tliere are times when our dearest beloved lie cold in tlie grave and our luairts are torn and bleeding and can not he comforted. All our joys have turned into bitterness, and we mourn in a sorrow of heart which we can ]>our out on no human bosom. In such an hour we may bear a testimony to Christ richer than ever before if we only listen to his words which say, “ Let not 3'our heart be troubled ; ye believe in God, believe also in me."’ ■ 13 CHAPTER VII. Naples — Scenes in Naples — Men — 'Wonien — Donkeys — Going to Mar- ket — Making Macaroni — Pompeii — History — Destruction — Long Sleep — Excursion — Streets — Character of the People — Lessons — Vesuvius — Various Eruptions — Railway — Ascending Vesuvius — Terror of the Mountain. APLES is the largest city in Italy, containing a pop- I; Illation of four hundred and fifty thousand. Its sit- ^ nation around the head of the Ray of Naples is one of the most picturesipie and lieautiful in the world. . b But while naturi! plante something. lie gui(le like an old road-horse, juit up the mountain through the slag and ashes at a hreak-neek s})eed. This, of course, was to tire us out. Then these fellow^ want to “pull" us up. Fvcrvone had a. rope ot which we were asked again and again to take hold. CKATEH OF VESUVIUS. To pull one to the first crater they charge three francs — sixty cents and to the second, the higlu'st, five* mon* francs, or one dollar and sixty cents in all. Then another one will go liehimi and push for the same price. It is ratlu'r anuising to .see a man tired out and .scared hy what is above anil by the awful steeps below holding on to a rope and working his feet up as best he can, while at his back an Italian Aral) is pushing away as if he Avere running a volcanic, mountain. Many persons are so terrified by the scene that they only get to the top of the railway and take the first car down again. TERROR OF THE MOUXTAIX. 201 thanking their prudence, if not their God, that they are safely down from that awful place. There are few places on the globe where such sensations fill the soul and body of a man as when standing on Vesuvius. The roar and thunderdike tones which salute one from beneath clothe the mountain with stu- pendous terror. The lava under foot is hot, and I had to travel briskly to keep from burning my shoes. Soft, heated lava in rolls and puffs and twists, yellow with sulphur, spreads out and piles up about you on every hand. All about are crevices and openings from which roll up clouds of smoke and brimstone, which almost stifle one. The scenery here possesses an awfulness and sublimity combined. It is terrific! After the roar and hissing which makes the ears ring for an hour and the feet to tremble, great volumes, tons and tons, of heated stone and lava at a time are thrown hundreds of feet into the air and scattered in pieces amid.st the brimstcme and smoke! The pieces seem to threaten your safety, and the smoke and sulphur are ([uite disagreeable, and your feet are hot; but a sensation of bravery makes one firm. The sensations and ex2)eriences here on this angry mountain of fire were such as I had never felt before. This awful force of nature no philos- opher has ever yet fathomed. Where these fires pick up the elements which are poured out without measure, none can tell ! Cities have been deluged with awful death by its volumes of fire and lava! What it has yet in .store for the villages about and for the stranger, who can forecast? It has gone on in its fiery fury for years and then nursed itself to sleep for cen- turies, only to burst forth with unexampled fury. What dangers lurk here one is curious to know ? 0 Vesuvius, Ve- suvius! How terrible, how awful its mi.ssion on our j)lanet! The great Apostle Paul must have looked upon its flaming volumes as he passed around to Puteoli on his way to Rome. And still its old ugly brow frowns on every passer-by. CHAPTER VIII. Leaving Italy — Differences of Customs — Southern Italy — Its Appear- ance— Products — Canosa — The Battle-field of Hannibal — Storm on the Adriatic — Bible Descriptions — Corfu — Greek Clergy — The Peo- ple— Our Palestine Company — Scene on Shipboard — Mohammedans at Prayer — Barren Hills of Greece — Dr. Schlieinann — His Life — Mrs. Schliemauu — Pirteus — City of Plato. ITH the closing days of September my sojourn in Italy came to an end. From Brindisi on the south- eastern coast of Italy our company was destined to ?ail across the Adriatic Sea. The English cars prevail over the continent ; but how widely different the pie — their customs and manners as well as habits! For example, in England the people eat all the time; on the continent they do not more than half eat. In England there is breakfast at 7 : 00 to 8:00 a. m., lunch at 1 : 00 p. M., tea at 6: 00 p. M., and dinner at 9:00 p. m. In France, breakfast at 8 : 00 A. M., and dinner at 6 : 00 p. m. In Italy, breakfast at 9 : 00 A. M., and dinner at 7 : 00 p. M. East of Italy the Ameri- can custom modified prevails — coffee in the morning as de- sired, lunch at 11 : 00 a. m., and dinner at 6 : 00 p. m. Dinner is the “ s([uare meal.” A day's travel from Naples, through the country of the brigands, takes you beyond the termination of the Apennines. The country is somewhat rugged for a distance, but luxuriant in production. Figs, grapes, and pomegranates, and olive- orchards, are everywhere. There are grapes enough in Italy to supply and glut the markets of the world. From Foggia, a town of fifty thousand peoi)le, — where I had an all-night battle with bed-bugs, gnats, and mosquitoes, taking no pris- 202 STORM ON THE ADRIATIC. 203 oners, — the way to Brindisi, one hundred and fifty miles, lies largely along the shore of the Adriatic Sea. To the right, far away, were the outlines of ijicturesqiie mountains, while the country is level as a prairie, and quite reminds one of the great prairies of Illinois. It is very productive, and easily cultivated ; yet there is no machinery. The fruits of the farther north are cultivated, and cotton-fields are of vast size. At Canosa we were within three miles of the hattle-field on which Hannibal conquered the Homans in the year 216 B. C. On the famous battle-field of Cannie the Roman consuls with an army of eighty thousand footmen and six thousand horse- men were met by Ilanniltal with forty thousand footmen and ten thousand horsemen. History tells us that of the Romans scarcely a soldier was left to tell the tale, seventy thousand being left on the field and ten thousand being taken prisoners. From Brindisi our vessel had scarcely put off' to sea when it was struck with a gale, followed by a fearful storm. This proved to be the hardest night of all my journeyings. The vessel reared and pitched like a wild beast, mounting high upon the waves and then plunging down to great depths, then rolling as though to turn upon the side. For many hours the vessel could scarcely make six knots an hour. 'W'e were almost twenty-four hours making the passage of about one hundred and fifty miles. It seemed often as though the ship must surely be broken into pieces. And, oh ! the sea-sick. Men, women, and children all sick; and oh, so sick! women cry- ing, moaning, hallooing, vomiting, and begging for help. Dr. Schliemann, who was on board with his family, was badly cut in the head and face by a fall on the vessel during the storm. He said that though having crossed the Adriatic thirty times and traveled the world over he never was in such a gale. It seemed as if the end had come. I could not but remember the trip of the Apostle Paul over this same sea, of which Luke says, “And when neither sun nor stars in many days aj)peared, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope that we should be saved was then taken away.” (Acts xxvii. 20.) “ But when the fourteenth night was come, as we were 204 FRAXCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. driven up and down in Adria, about midnight the shipman deemed that they drew near to yome countr}'.” “ Then fearing lest we should have fallen upon rocks, they cast four anchors out of the stern, and wished for the day.” (Acts xxvii. 29.) No one can a])prcciate the last sentence of this quotation until tossed up and down in a Euroclydon. But our vessel rode the sea wildly. During the day the storm subsided, and toward evening we had a calm sea along the Turkish coast. Whoever wrote the one hundred and seventh psalm had been at sea. Here it is — that which relates the experience of the seaman, beginning with the twenty-third verse and closing with the thirtieth : “ They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters ; these see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For he coinniandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the lieaven, lliey go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. Thej' reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit’s end. Then they cr^' unto the Lord in their trouble, and ho bringeth them out of their distresses. He niaketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet ; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.” Before midiiigbt our compaii}' were taken ashore on the Island of Corfu, in :i .small row-boat, and 1 set vigon)Usly about the rei)airing of the wastes of a disordered stoniaeb. Corfu is one of the most delightful as well tis largest of the Ionian Islands. It has about .seventy-five thousand inhabit- ants, the city containing one third of that number. The occupancy of this island dates to the eighth century before Ldirist. From 1815 to a little over twenty years ago this with the other Ionian islands was under the ])rotection of the En- glish government. Since 18()4 it has belonged to the kingdom of Greece. It is a beautiful })lace, and its surrounding Avater, and lofty rocks beyond, give it a 2)icturesque frame-Avork such as is .seldom .seen in any s]»ot on the globe. During the Avinter sea.son many Englishmen resort to this mild and delicious climate to the Avinter months. King George of Greece has a residence here, and frequently spends a foAV months on OUR PALESTINE COMPANY. 2Gj the is^land. There are several free schools for hoys and also for girls, besides two other private schools. In these the dif- ferent languages are taught. At Corfu I lirst saw the Greek clergy. The priests were everywhere to be seen, going alK)ut the streets in long, heavy, black cloaks, similar to those worn by the Catholics in Italy. Instead of the broad-brimmed black hat they wear queer cylinder-like shaped caps. The dress of the wonren is hardly to be distinguished from that of American ladies, but many of the men wear the oriental costirmo of the Turks and the Greeks. ^^Tly they wear these baggy, petticoat-like breeches I do not know. ►Surely they are not handsome at all. Many of these have also on their heads the fez, or red scull-cap with black tassel. The women are hand.some of feature and well attired. On evenings the walks and parks were thronged with people, who pass ’the time in walking about, engaged in con- versation, while groups of children played in perfect freedom. How I dreaded to get out to sea again. The lirst experi- ences on the Adriatic had been so terrible that I almost felt like a preacher on the Atlantic going to Euro^je, who inquired of an associate if there was not some way to return to America by laud. He was very sea-sick. Often we are disappointed with unexpected iileasure. From Corfu through the Ionian ►sea and the Archipelago the voyage was delightful; and though afterward I s^^ent weeks on the Mediterranean I never missed a meal and never was troubled with sea-sickness. At Corfu live Americans met us, coming on the steamer from Triest. And this comprised our company for the entire trip through the Holy Land and Egypt. Here I give the names of the entire company : Eev. W. H. Steck of Ardmore, Pen 1155’! van ia, a Lutheran minister; Rev. B. St. James Fry, D. D., editor ot the Christian Advocate, St. Louis; Rev. W. DeLoss Love, jr., Lancaster, Massachusetts, a Congregational minister ; Rev. W. S. Miller of Pittsburgh, a Presbyterian minister; J. F. Miller, Esq.. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Messrs. F. H. Shaw and Charles Shaw, Man- chester, England, Hon. W. W. Sedgwick of Sandwich, Illinois, Hon. J. C. McGrew, Kingwood, West Virginia, W. E. Hagans, Esq., Chicago, Illi- nois, Dr. H. A. Thompson of Westerville, Ohio, and the writer. Mr. William Sharman of London attended the company as conductor. 206 FBAXCK, ITATA] GREECE, AND TURKEY. Two nights and a day hronght our steamer to Pirjeus, the port of Athens. On this voyage I first met oriental life. Be- sides the fcAV Americans and Englishmen, there Avere German, Frenchmen, Italians, Greeks, Armenians, and Turks. The Turks, All)anians, and Greeks Avere a euriosity. Their queer red fez, and moccasin-like shoes Avith sharp toes turned Tip two or three inches high, Avith a bunch of hair on the end, and their baggy, petticoat-like breeches tucked up at the knees, as the Greeks Avear, or their short, heavily-plaited skirts dan- gling around them, coming doAAUi half AA’ay to the knees, AA'ith their legs buckled up tight in pants or stockings protruding at great length, their great heaA’y coats or cloaks, covered Avith AA'ool or hair six inches long, Avith their richly-colored under- coats, shoAvn noAV and then as the great-coats AA'ere removed, made i;p a scene AA'liicli amused one quite aa'cU indeed. They had some Avoraen Avith them; l)ut most of them AA'ere oddly dressed and much of the time coA'ered up from sight b}' blankets ami umljrellas. Tlieir faces AA'ere closely veiled, and at most nothing hut the dark eyes could Iac seen. How they talked. The people, — Italians, Greeks, Albanians, Ar- menians, and Turks, — all talk fourteen times more than seems to be necessary; and especially did it seem so to anc aa'Ika could not undei'stand one of their Avords in a fort- niglit. They ai'c a AA'ondcrful people to gesture. Their AA'hole bodies are called into motion. One thinks they AA'ill fight each other sure, and almost Avishes they AA'ould and then be done AA’ith it. But I saAA’ only one fight, and that AA'as a rough boatman heating a lad so cruelly that I AA'anted to giA’e him an American pounding. Among the cultured and refined of so- ciety this same amount of gesture is to he seen, CA’en in pri- vate conversation, both froin men and Avomen. Among this class I notice the gesture is most graceful and expressiA’e, and seems to be the prompting, of a Avarm, earnest nature. I shall never forget the stately strut and keen suspicious look of one stout old Greek Avho had tAvo wives Avith him. He had great fears that some person Avould see them, and at several times was Avell-nigh having a fight about his Avomen. Knives, dirks, and chibs Avere the arms Avhich they bore in abundance. BARREX HILLS OF GREECE. 207 During all my journeyings in the orient I was often im- pressetl Avith the devotion of the Mohammedans. When on ship they always scrupulously observe the hours of prayer. They would go out on deck and select a suitable place regard- less of company, spread down a rug or mat, and turning their face toAvard INIecca, they AA’ould boAV doAvn, jdacing their hands on their knees and their foreheads upon the floor. Thus hoAV- ing and rising they Avould pray for a long time, but usually uttering no Avords. After praying aAvhile the}" AA’ould take a compass from the pocket, lay it doAAui before them, and if the A’essel had turiu'd its course they Avould face about and con- tinue their prayers. Nothing seemed to prevent their dcA"otions Avhen the hour for })rayer came. Sometimes AA'hen they AA'ere employed unloading or loading the vessel Avhen stoj)ping to receive or discharge her cargo, they Avould suddenly (piit Avork, go to one end of the boat, sjAread doAvn a rug or a hand- kerchief, and perform their prayers and then return to their Avork. When in Damascus, Syria, taking a Turkish bath one day I saAV a IMohammedan, Avhose bath Avas yet unfinished, turn aside to a divan and go through Avith his prayers, and then go back and complete his bath. Passing through the Archipelago our vessel Avas constantly in sight of islands. Some of these are beautiful in their out- line, but most of them bleak and barren. The entire coast of Greece seems to be a barren and rocky ruin of ages. Its history of thousands of years spreading over those battle- croAvned hills and jjlains, snatched from oblivion by Homer, and then later by historians, lends a charm Avithout Avhich they Avould be desolate indeed. I have not siiace to alloAV even a little revel over the memory of these scenes of battle and conflict of the long, long ago, Avhich Avould read like fairy tales. They are on the page of history, poetry, and mythol- ogy, and their bare fame covers the bald hills, Avhile ruined cities lie buried out of sight, and treasures vast of sunken ships of Avar have lain for thousands of years in the deep Ionian sea. This journey Avas made doubly interesting by the associa- 208 FRANCE. ITALY. GREECE, AND TURKEY. tion of the world-renowned researcher of antiquities, the learned antiquarian, Dr. Henry Schliemann, whom I found not only an agreeable traveling companion, but always ready to impart information upon subjects and places which our journey contemplated, and upon matters of antiquity in which he has caused a new era to dawn. He is a short, heavy man, with round German face, ruddy complexion, mustache, hair cut short to the head, wears gray pants, black vest and coat, and a little soft black hat with rim rolled up all round. I can not pass without giving the reader a little sketch of this wonderful man as he related it. His father was a poor Ger- man, and unlearned, but fond of history, and especially the writings of Homer. The young Schliemann having read the story of the burning of Troy, and seeing its illustrations, believed it to be a city the remains of which could be found. Looking at the pictures he said, “ Why, there are the walls.” He and his father then agreed that some time he should hunt up old Troy and uncover its ruins. This thought followed him through years of poverty as an errand-boy and as a sailor-boy ; through a wreck of vessel in which he well- nigh was lost; through years of toil, clerkship, and study in St. Petersburg, where he learned the Greek language, as well as other languages; through the study of the French language, which he mastered in six weeks, and the English, which he learned by listening to an English preacher and saying his sermon over after him till he memorized it; through Syria, Egypt, and the East; through America, where he became a citizen of the United States by the admission of California as a state to the Union during his residence there; through fortunes of trade and commerce, which brought him wealth, until at last the time came for the redemption of his promise made in childhood to uncover ancient Troy. The historv of his research is well known. The Turks ordered him stopped, and sued him for damages. When his errands to the treasures of long-gone ages brought up the relics of an- cient Troy, the Greeks were jealous, and to use his own lan- guage, “ could have crucified ” him. I Avas afterAvard greatly PJRJX'S. 209 interested in examining the fruits of his research at Mycena', They have been presented by iiim to the Greek government, and are placed in a very spleiulid and commodious museum in Athens. It is a rich gift to Greece and to the world as well. The home of Dr. Schliemauu is in Athens, where he owns the most handsome residence in the city. He sjieaks with great ap])reeiation of the symiiathy America, as well as England, has shown his work. During the excavations he em})loys from one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and fifty workmen constantly. Ills wife is a tall, command- ing woman, ap2)arently much younger than he, and possessed of great intelligence. Wednesday morning, October oth, our vessel drove into the Bay of Palamis, and at nine o'clock A. M. we were under the harbor of Pira-us, the port of Athens. M'hat a scene presentcal itself to view ! I counted over seventy-five small row-boats, fantastically painted, all crowding around the vessel to convey the passengers ashore, f'ueh rowing, and paddling, and talk- ing, and gesturing, and climbing to get on the vessel as were then to b • witues.sed beggar description. But I was at last on the ela.'^sic shore of Greece. Piiaeus is a city of about twenty-five thousand people, with narrow, crowded street.s. The shops are small and the markets thronged. Here again are the donkeys loaded with great, lu.s- cious grapes. The walks of the streets are crowded with the catenets, or eating, drinking, and smoking jilaces. Hosts of men, some well dre.ssed, many barefootial and dirty, sat sip- jnng wine by the hour, and smoking cigarettes or the pipe. Many of them were seated on the ground, tugging away at the nargile, which i.i a great pipe with three or four stems to it, and bf)ttles of rose-water below the bowl. The smoke thus has to pass through the rose-water, which of course cools it and gives it a peculiar flavor. Italy, France, and Greece are wonderful for drinking. But the people do not get drunk. Water is used for purposes of navigation, and by some for ablution; but as for drink, they u.se wine. Still, they do not become intoxicated. They have too much sense and leisure. 14 210 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. They take drinks at a slow pace. An hour will he put in at a stand smoking and sipping at a dram. In America the hot poison stuff is poured down the throat like a flame of fire in a straw-stack; and before an Italian, Frenchman, or Greek will have finished one dram, the American will have gone from one saloon to another and swallowed a dozen drams and become fearfully drunk ! There is a railroad from Pircuus to Athens, only a distance of five miles. It is short, hut all that Greece has; and it brought me to the renowned and ancient city where Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle tauglit more than two thousand years ago, and in sight of the academic groves west of the city ; and towering Mars’ Hill, in the midst of which the great Apostle Paul stood more than eighteen hundred years ago and proclaimed Jesus Christ the I’isen and ascended Lord to the “ men of Athens ” while his “ spirit was stirred in him/’ as he waited for the coming of Timothy and Silas, seeing the “ whole city given to idolatry ! ” CHAPTER IX. Athens — Early History — Location — Surrounding Mountains — Ilymet- tus — Pentelicus — Aigaleos — Lycabettus — Pass of Daphne — Sacred. Way — Temple of Ceres — Eleusis — Wor.ship of Ceres — Modern Ath- ens— Athenians — Greek Churches — Ancient Athens — The Acropolis — The Parthenon — Erectheum — Statue of Minerva — Prop3d{ea — Temple of Wingless Victory — Temple of Jupiter — Temple of The- seus— Piiix — Story of Demosthenes — Odeum of Herodes — Theater of Bacchus — Stadium — xYgora — Mars’ Hill — Temple of Mars — Paul with the New Philosophy — On Mars’ Hill — Surroundings — The Discourse — Leaving Athens. HE pages of liistory will always record Athens as the representative of ancient pliiloso2)hy and idolatry. Its histoiy conies dimly to us from almost a thousand 'years before the Christian era. Xerxes jiut it in ashes more than five hundred years before Christ, only to he rebuilt and adorned by Themistocles and Pericles, when its highest s^ilendor was attained, more than four hundred years before the Christian era. Under the INIacedonian emjiire it was a city of power; and though sometimes ruinously destroyed, in Roman times under Hadrian, Herodes, Anto- nins, and Marcus Aurelius, it Avas a city of siilendor. For unbroken ages it ivas the center and seat of iiaganism and of the various schools of jihilosoiihy. This ivas true of it for more than a thousand years, even to the sixth century, Avhen under Justinian its pagan temjdes were either torn down or converted into Christian churches, and its altars destroyed. It is claimed that three centuries before Christ it contained no less than half a million people, four hundred thousand of whom Avere slaves. For ages it has been looked upon as the wonder of the world. Its location is surely one of the strong- 211 212 FRANCE, ITALY. GREECE, AND TURKEY. est and most picturesque and balmy of any city on the globe. It is surrounded on every side by a plain slightly' varving from five miles in vidtb, broader or narrower. Southward beyond the plain is the beautiful Bay of Salamis; south-east the Hymettus Mountains; north-east the Pentelicus; and westward, beyond the plains and groves, the Aigaleos INIount- ains. North-east of the citv is the Lvcabettus, towerimr conicallj' nearly eight liundred feet in height, from which a splendid view of the city and its surrounding jdains may be secured. Nearly fourteen miles westward, through the Pass of Daphne, is Eleusis, where long ago Ceres was worshiped in the Eleusinian mysteries 1)V tlie peo])le of Athens. The temple of Ceres was one of the largest of all the tireeian temples, and its ceremonies, to which tlie initiated only were admitted, the most abominal)le. Tlie ruins are vast, and show an immensity of pro])ortions which well sujq)orts the historic statements resiH'cting the place. The temple once destroyi'd by tlie Per- sians was soon restored by the Athenians, who ordered Ictinus, the architect of the Parthenon, to provide the plan of the new temple. It was consequently ri'vived in the Doric .style of architecture, under the eyes of Phidias, and during the splendid dominion of Pericles. Its foundations of marble still remain, while immense columns and fragments of col- umns, and statuary and carvings lie piled with wild ruin on ruin. In reaching Eleusis from Athens you pa.ss over the ancient sacred way over which tliousands of tlie Athenians used to journey, no doulit aecompanii'd by Dcanosthenes and the later philosojihers, and Iiy the groves of the Schools, and by many ruins of old temples and tombs. One can not look upon the ruins of these temples and pass over the jiaths once trod by the worshipers in them without wondering at the power of the faith which held multiplied thousands, of cult- ured people to such myths and fabulous stories of the gods and goddesses as were related in the temple at Eleusis. Modern Athens is not wholly unlike its former self, in every respect, though but indeed the shadow of that which was. The houses of a considerable part of the city are of marble, ATHENIANS. 213 nr plastered white, and are very beautiful, while the king’s palace and gardens toward the center lend a charm to the city. These more comfortable dwellings are modern in con- struction, but usually with flat roofs, and present a tasty appearance. The larger portion of the city has narrow, crowded streets, though not so dirty as those of Rome, and houses poor enough’ indeed. The people are swarthv. The men are strong and active, while the women seen are of great variety of appearance. The lower class are exceedingly homely, while the middle class are often exceedingly hand- some, with round features and })iereing eyes. The higher class of men are as sj)lendid specimens of humanitv as are any- where to be met on the globe. There are a number of schools for boys, as well as othc'rs for girls. Atlums has a univer- sity.with tifty professors and teachers and a large attendance of students, which gives a full university course. It has one English church and some Protestant-Greck churches, with a number of Greek churches. Its present jiopulation is not far from fifty thousand. Many of the people dress in the Greek, Turkish, and Allianian co.stume.s, while most of the more wealthy class dress according- to modern Euroiiean customs. Many of the peasant-women have on a simple gown, and a lieavy sack, while their heads, and often their feet, are left to go bare. Now and then a woman may be seen in Grecian dress, with a red fez or close skull-cap, with a yellow' or blue tassel dangling from the top. The men are exceedingly dirty in the markets, while in the evenings numbers of well-dressed men assimible in the drinking-places on the streets or cafen- ets to gamble, drink, and smoke. The people are shrewd, and generally well educated. The great masses of the 2)eople do not attend religious services at all, and the Greek churches have no accommodations for them. The.se churches are gor- geously, not to say idolatrously, painted and filled with im- ages and altars, but have no seats for the peojile. I attended one service, at which the jiricsts were performing their semi- heathen ceremonies, and a few people came in and made crosses on their breasts and foreheads, and knelt dowm a few 214 FRANCE, FFALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. times, looking sad, and then went away, while the priests and choir went on with their worship. It is 111)011 the Athens of twenty-two and twenty-five centu- ries ago that one looks again and again with ever-increasing wonder. Turn the eye in any direction and it is met hy rel- ics of ancient philosophy and paganism combined, which enable the present age to test) the records of history and make a comparison, or at least a contrast, of these systems of the past with the products of the civilization of the Chris- tian world of to-day. That which has long been mythical and dreamy becomes real, and that which you esteemed only as the vision of a dead poet, rises up in its stalwart skeleton clad in the dusty garl) of ages. In the center of these century-crowned ruins, and almost in the center of the city, is the Acropolis, a great hill over one ATHENS, WITH THE ACHOPOLIS. thousand one hundred feet in length, and nearly half as wide, with a height of three hundred feet above the level of the citv. From the Acropolis, as well as from the Lycabettus, a THE PA R T II EXOX. 215 commanding view of the city is presented to the eye. Over the iiroad surface of the Acropolis, sloping slightly from the center, stand vast ruins. The Parthenon, the great temple of IMinerva, the virgin god- dess of Athens, over two hundred feet in length and one hun- dred feet wide, built by Pericles and Phidias, four hundred and thirty-eight years before Christ, crowns the Acro})olis. Its cost is given at three million five hundred thousand dol- lars. Its Ionic columns and its Avails Avere entire of Penteli- cus marble. No less than thirty-tAVO of these columns are yet standing. They are lieaA’ily tinted, six and one fourth feet in diameter and oA'cr thirty-four feet high. In this temple stood the goddess Minerva, — Avhose temple it Avas, — draped in .solid gold, and her l)reast adorned AA'ith iA'ory. This goddess stood upon tlie toAvering height of almost forty feet, garbed in gold of ten thousand ])ounds! In one hand she held a .shield, and in the other an uplifted glistening spear. The figures of Theseus, Hercules, the riA'cr god, and many others, Averc in the Partlu'uon. It is justly regarded the most Avonderful specimen of Greidc architecture. Near to this temph? of the virgin, on the north-east of the Acropolis, stand the ruins of the Ifrechthcum, the mo.st re- vered of all the Athenian temples, as its delicate, marA’elous, and exquisite carvings yet Avell attest. Homer says Erech- theus Avas horn of the earth and nurtured by the goddess Athena, and by luo- installed in her Athenian temple, Avhere the Athenians otfer to him annual sacrifice. It must luiA'e stood here comphded four hundred years before Christ Avas born in P>ethlehem. It Avas a splendid temple, Avith porticoes of fluted columns on the north and east and south. Be- tAveen the Erechtheum and the Partlumon stood the bronze statue of Athena (INIinerA'a), the Avork of Phidias. It.s height is helicAU'd to IniA’c been sixty feet. On the AA'est end of the Acropolis stand the ruins of the Propyhea, built four hundred and thirty -seven years before Christ, at a cost, it is said, of four hundred thousand pounds! It also is of Pentelic marble. It Avas one hundred and se\"- TEMPLE OF THESEUS. 217 only feet in length, while a^fliglit of s^ixty ^teps, over seventy feet wide, led to the portico sixty-nine feet broad, gnurded hy six fluted Doric columns. There are two wings on the nortli and south, twenty-four feet wide, projected hy tlie sides of tlie portico. The fronts of these faced each other with a porch of three Doric columns. Its surroundings of ruins suggest a temple of grandeur. West of tlie southern end of the Propyhea stands the Tem- ple of AV'ingless Victory, of a somewhat later date, erected in honor of the godde.ss Athena, under a different character and name. Directly east from the Acropolis, in the lower part of the city, are the massive columns of the Temple of Jupiter, called the Clymjiium. Of its one hundred and twenty -four tre- mendous columns of the Corinthian order, fifteen are stand- ing anti one is lying prostrate. This temple, begun in the earlier history of Athens, by Pisistratus, in honor of the god Zeus Olympus, seems to have waited more than six hundred years for its completion, and was not dcdicati'd until the time of Hadrian. A. D. 13G. It was three hundred and fifty-four feet long ;..nd one hundred and seventy-one feet wide, and over fifty-five feet high. The columns of marble are six feet four inches in diameter. Vow, after the lapse of rolling ceii- turic.s, most of the marble of the Temple of Jupiter has been removed. The worship of Jupiter long ages ago became a myth ; and under the shadows of these old, lonely columns, on the gravel earth, I saw men collect, and around tottering tables there sit and drink wine to gods of their own fancy. The best preserved of all the temjiles of the gods is the Temple of Theseus, which stands almost without the loss of a single part — a relic of the architecture and service of the gods from beyond the dark ages and beyond the Christian era. It is much smaller than the Parthenon or the Temple of Ji.piter, being one hundred feet in length, but shows the came style of architecture as the former. It has fluted Doric columns, and the frieze around the top is crowded with repre- sentations in marble of the achievements of the gods. It is 218 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. not a little remarkable that its preservation from complete destruction is owing to its having been converted into a Christian church. It is now a museum, and contains a num- ber of the most valuable discoveries of recent excavations, but without order or arrangement. South-west from the Acropolis is the Pnyx, where the par- liament of the Athenians assembled. The form is nearly that of a semi-circle, with the Bema or pulpit of solid rock remain- ing. The Bemn is a part of the great perpendicular rock, which forms the rear of the Pnyx. Tlie area of the court is said to contain about twelve thousand sijuare yards; and not less than eight thousand people might stand upon it. It was not provided with seats, as was the Stadium, or with awnings, such as the theaters, which had both .seats and awnings; hut from this Bema of rock, almost a dozen feet high and ten feet wide, Demosthenes, Pericles, Tliemistoeles, Aristides, and So- lon used to thunder forth their great orations in tlie hearing of the asseml)led Athenians. If the wind blew from the north then as wlien 1 tried my voice just a little on it, there is no wonder Demosthenes tried to strengthen his voice by speaking with pebbles in his mouth. It is related that once wlien Demosthenes was sjieaking to the Athenians upon a subject which he esteemed of great importance the iieojile grew listless and drow.sy. The orator called loudly for their attention, stating that he had a story to relate to them. Their attention being partly regained, he began to tell them about a certain Greek who, he alleged, had hired a donkey to go from Athens to Mezarra. He fell into a quarrel with another who joined him on the journey, and who persisted in walking in the shadow of the donkey. The first man contended that he had hired the donkey and his shadow, while the other as stoutly claimed that the shadow was not his alone, l)ut belonged to himself as well. Here De- mosthenes discontinued the story. Great numbers called out, demanding that the story he completed. To this Demosthenes replied: “Oye Athenians, will ye hear me when I tell you a story of an ass, and give no heed when I sp(>ak to you con- STADIUM. 219 cerning matters of greatest importance?” This address of the Athenian orator would not be wholly inapplicable to some American audiences. South of the Acro^jolis and immediately against it at the western end was the Odeum of Herodes, a vast theater, with a diameter of two hundred and forty feet within the walls, and seats for six thousand persons. There are large portions of its walls remaining, and its .seats sliow alnio.st j)eiTectly its structure. Directly eastward and at the south-east of the Acropolis is the theater of Bacchus, which for ages has been completely covered, but by recent excavations has been opened to j^erfect view. It was founded and constructed in the early history of Athens, and was probably completed by Lycurgus three hundred and forty years before Christ. After destruction had fallen to it the Emperor Hadrian restored it A. I). 117. It was again restored two hundred years later. The marble seats or chairs for the different priests of the gods remain in their places where they were covered for many centuries. Many fragments of statuary and carvings remain, .showing tlie spirit of the god of wine. Eastward from the Temple of .Iu})iter and across the Ilissus streamlet, and on its southern banks, is the great Panathenaic Stadium, whei'e the Grecian games and races were performed in the open air, under the gaze of the assembled thousands. It was planned by Lycurgus (B. C. 340). Tbe length of the course is six hundred and sixty-three feet, and the widtli one hundred feet. It is a great amphitheater excavated, leaving the hill sloping upward on eitlier side and at the southern end in a circle. On either side were eleven tiers of seats, and seven in the circular end, with a stand or porch for the juilges. The racers started at the circular end, running down on one side and returning on the other to the place of beginning, where was the final prize, the first being at the north end. It had seats for fifty thousand people, who there assembled to witness the races of the athletes. The entire Stadium was of Pentelicus marble, winch glistened in the sun like a sea of 220 FRAXCE, ITATA', GREECE, AND TURKEY. fire. At the time of Hadrian, history tells us it u’as the scene of gladiatorial contests; and that emperor presented one thou- sand wild beasts to be hunted in the Stadium at a season when he was present. The outlines of the Stadium and its form remain as at the beginning, and a small 2>ortion of the marl)le wall at the circular end; l)ut most of the marble of its s2)lendor was long ago burned into lime in the very arena. Never until climbing over this great structure in the earth, looking down from its height to the arena below, and then looking up to the seats where once sat fifty thousand Atheni- ans watching from every side the games below, did I under- stand the force of the ai)Ostle’s allusion to such a spectacle Avhen he says, “Wherefore, seeing we also are com})assed about with so great a^ cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth .so easily beset us, and let us run with ])atience the race that is set before us.” Between the Pnyx on the south-west and the Acrojiolis on the east and the Areopagus on the north lay the Agora, or market-place, filled with statuary in the time of the glory of Athens, and with many altars. Here the people were wont to assemble and spend “their time in nothing else but either to tell or to hear some new thing.” Now it is unoccupied, and great cacti and a few small trees adorn its bare face, once crowned l)y the glory of the gods. West of the Acropolis and north of the Agora is the Areop- agus, or INIars’ Hill, on which the high senate, which was the criminal court of Athens, held its .sessions. It was called ISIars’ Hill from its being the place of the trial of the god Mars. It is an almost peri>endicular rock on the south, east, and north, and is .several hundred feet long and ninety feet wide, though not so high as the Acropolis. It is about thirty feet above the Agora, — the front. It had no temple on it, though the Temple of Mars is bclievc'd to have stood quite against it on the south side and to the we.st of the center. It was from this place “in the midst of Mars’ Hill” that the Apos- tle Paul preached his memorable discourse to the “men of Athens.” Fifteen stei>s remain j)erfect on the south side, by MAHS' HILL. 221 means of which the ascent was gained. They are seen near the middle of the rock as shown in our illustration. Here we have a view of the great a})ostle, such as is no- where else to be obtained. At other places we have him in “labors oft,” in others we see him “made a spectacle unto the world, and to angels and to men,” hungry and thirsty and naked and buffeted, having no certain dwelling-place, “ al- waj’s bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus. At other places we behold him amid the breaking of the tender bonds of those who sorrowed most beciiusi' they should see his face no more; but at Athens we have Paul in a crucial MARS’ HILL. hour when the test of the profoundest philosophies of ancient Greece must be put to the gospel he preached. Here must be tested his ability to present through Christ in the presenc(‘ of the renowned philosophers of the world, the profounder philosophy which should overshadow all the loftie.st thoughts of men. In the very citadel of Grecian paganism with its frowning temples and altars and idols on every side he has to declare that the Godhead was not “ like unto gold or silver, or stone, graven by art and man’s device.” As I read that dis- course on Mars’ Hill, sitting where Paul stood, my heai’t was overwhelmed and I wept as a child. 222 FRANCE, ITATA\ GREECE, AND TURKEY. Paul was fresh from the prison of Philippi, where he had been beaten “ openly and uncondemned,” and where God had given triumph and salvation at the midnight, and from the uproar and assault of Thessalonica, and latest from Berea where the Jews “ came thither also and stirred up the jjeojile.” The brethren had come with him to Athens. He had not be- fore visited this great and proud city. Fifty miles aAvay in Mount Parnassus Avas the oracle of Delphi, and a feAV miles aAvay the Eleusinian Temple, Avherein the mysteries of Ceres the goddess Avere celebrated. Athens Avas crowded Avith the splendor of temples to the gods. Paul returned Avord to Tim- othy and Silas “ to come to him Avith all speed.” lie Avas lonesome amid those surroundings. Perhaps for a season the apostle sought rest and passed a feAV days observing the character and life of the citizens. lie had seen the theater of their games, and the groA^es and porches of the schools and philosophers, and Avell enough understood the teachings of the learned of Athens of former times. Temple after teni})le of marble Avith costly adornment reared to the gods met his eye. He beheld the devotions of the people, and heard their impiiry after philosophy — “for all the Athenians and strangers Avhich Avere there si)ent their time in nothing else, but either to tell or to hear some neAV thing.” This aroused his thoughts. The pagan Avorship made him tremble Avith jealousy for the true God. “ Ills spirit av:is stirred in him Avhen he saw the city Avholly given to idolatry.” He must be about his Master's business. Tavo opportunities are open to him, and two fields before him. There is his “ heart’s desire and prayer to God for Israel ” that they may be saved. First he sought the synagogue of the JeAvs, and discussed and taught “Jesus and the resurrection.” Next AA'as the Agora or market-idace, betAveen Areopagus the seat of the highest senate, and the Pnyx Avhere the largest gatherings of the people Avere held. Here Avere “ devout persons ” to Avhom he preached Christ ; hut here also Avere collected day by day the philosophers of the Epicureans and of the Stoics. With these he soon came in contact, for they “encountered him.” PAUL WITH THE XEW PHILOSOPHY. 223 Yet they felt the force of his preaching. lie was probably not imposing in appearance; a man of small stature, and possibly slow of speech. lie seemed to be a babbler ” or base fellow ; yet his thought, his teaching, his stirred and stirring spirit made him seem to them a “setter forth of strange gods;” for to them also he preached “Jesus and the resurrec- tion.” These subjects were wonderful within themselves. Amid the altars which stood in the Agora and deaf gods about him and in the temples, he told of the crucifixion of Christ in Jerusalem and of his wonderful rising from the tomb of Joseph the third day. There was no story of all the gods of Athens like that. For very desire to “hear some new thing” these phil()so})hers who alone would have the right to do so, “took him and brought him into Areopagus, saying, ‘ May we know what this new doctrine whereof thou speakest is ? For thou bringest certain strange tilings to our ears; we would know therefore what these things mean. ’” It is early in the morning. The court has just adjourned. The philosophers and judges are still on their seats, and the crowds are assembled in the Agora. The sun is up from beyond the Ilymettus, and is lifting his silvery face above the Temple of Jujiiter and over the Parthenon, and above tbe statue of ^linerva. The apostle ascends the steps of stone cut in the solid rock. As the summit of the steps is reached, in his front, a little to the right and below him, full in sight, is the Temple of the Winds, with its figures, devices, and dials glistening in the sunlight. Far away across the city, north- ward, his eye rests on the groves and porches of the Schools, while in the same direction, but only a few paces distant, is the magnificent temple to the god Theseus. As he advances westward to “the midst of Mars’ Hill,” the hill of the Nymphs is before him, and southward under the cover of the hill, directly facing him across the Agora, is the Pnyx, where the assembly of thousands is wont to be made before the Bema cut in solid rock. As he turned his face directly southward toward the judges’ seats, far down to the left and beyond the Acropolis just under the rising sun was the awful Temple of L24 FRANCE, ITALY, (1 REECE. AND TCRKEY. Jupiter, yet uncompleted, while closer uitoii the heights of the Acropolis rose the s])leiulid and most revered of all — the Tem- jde of Erechtheus. On the same eminence to the right stood the Parthenon, the temple of the virgin goddess of Athens already gray with half a thousand 3'ears, in which was en- shrined the gold-veiled goddess INIinerva, and beside which in towering height stood the bronze statue of the goddess Athena, whose spear, glittering in the burning sun, pierced the heav- ens above the temj^les, until the mariner on the distant sea guided his vessel b}' its blaze. Almost beneath him, agains^ the rock-hill on which he stood was the Tenij^le of Mars, while directly in front lav the Agora, crowded with the statues of the gods, and with altar after altar. The Athenians stretch- ing out after the unknown had built an altar with an inscrip- tion, “To the unknown God;” and by this the apostle had just come. It was an awful hour. Never did mortal man plead the cause of God amid such terrific surroundings. The test of fire, such as liurned on Carmel, might not be repeated here. Christ had come and suffered and risen and ascended to the Father, and must be ])reached. The character of the eternal God must be set forth. And amid these surrounding temples Paul declares the profoundest truth of the eternal ages. He stands alone, and solitary, the defender of that truth, in a city so given to idolatry’ that it was indeed one temple of idols. Nor was the sermon less wonderful than the scenes amid Avhich it was proclaimed. It was approi)riately introduced : “ Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things }'e are too superstitious.” A better reading would perhaps be, “ exceed- ing careful in your religion.” He courteoush' referred to > their great attention to matters of religion ; did not charge them with superstition in the first sentence of his sermon as the authorized version would indicate. Such an element no- where else appears in the discourse. He proceeds, “For as I passed bj’ and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription. To the unknown God. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto jmu.” The introduc- THE GREAT DISCOURSE. 225 tion led directly to the discourse. That discourse began just ■where all their religion found its deepest mystery, and long- ing for tlie unknown. Then amid these temj)les of idols he lifts up the shafts of truth and reveals to the Athenians the character of that God who “dwelleth not in temples made v.’ith hands,” such as tliese about him. “ God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; neither is worshiiK'd with men's hands, as though he needed any- thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; and hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before ap]iointed, and the bounds of their habitation; that the}' should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us; for in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said. For we are also his off- S])i’ing. Forasmuch, then, as we are the offspring of God, -we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man’s device.” He had made the great doctrinal announcement. Another truth conclusive and iiractical, sho-wing not what God is within himself, or what concej)tion his offspring are to have of his, character, but disclosing what God requires of man, and what are the all-conquering evidences of these claims, — “ And the times of this ignorance God winked at ; but now commandeth all men everywhere to rei>ent : because he hath appointed a day, in the W'hich he will judge the -world in righteousness by that man ■whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assur- ance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead.” I can not trace the results of this discourse dow'n through the ages. That day “some mocked, and others said, ‘We will hear thee again on this matter.’ ” Yet it was not without fruit. Dionysius, one of the judges of the Areopagus, “and a woman named Damaris,” believed in Christ. With these there were others ahso who -R'ere saved. Two things incidentally connect with this sermon. First, 15 226 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. Paul was at Athens at the choice of the brethren at Berea to escape the loss of his life at the hands of the wicked Jews; secondly, he delays here in expectation of the early coming of Timotheiis and Silas, in which he was disappointed. This occasion and detention in Athens, though incidental, are em- ployed by him to accomplish the work of God. It reminds us of the labor of Christ with the woman at the well of Sa- maria while his disciples were gone to buy bread. Grand op- portunities are often afforded by circumstances which are not susjiected as leading to them. It was the apostle’s grace and gift to embrace tbem. The experience of Paul in the idola- trous city was not such as to discourage him ; for behold, he seeks and finds an open door at Corinth. May his spirit be on the ministers of to-day. Amid such memories as these I turned away from Athens, never to look u])on the Acropolis again, or again stand where Paul stood on Mars’ Hill. The streets and ruined temples had becimie familiar walks. I sorrowed to leave them. Such anticpiity and definiteness of location I had nowhere found. There is something subduing and mighty in the ruins of these once splendid temples of idols. In them, “corridors of time ” cease to be poetry, for they are the corridors and aisles down which more than twenty-three hundred years have walked in solemn and stately grandeur. I thought I could hear their spirit-tread. There are idolatrous memories which are the lone inhabitants of these ruins, with which one never keeps company elsewhere. To the top of Mars’ Hill I climbed again and again, with subdued reverence to stand in fancy be- side the great apostle and hear him deliver his wonderful address to the Athenians. Does -the reader wonder that I found my feet to linger a little ? But to these, all, to the honey of Ilymettus, to all of Athens I said good-by. Still I seem to walk again under the shadows of those grim skele- tons of that civilization of Greece which has passed forever from the children of men. CHAPTER X. Leaving Greece — The Hellespont — Quarantine — Sea of Marmora — Mixed Multitude — Dr. S. F. Smith — An Incident — Constantinople — Loca- tion — History — Sultan’s Harem — Stamboul — Burial Scenes — An- cient Wall — Mohammedan Superstition — Dogs. on the twelfth of October our company was taken on board the steamer at Piranis, destined for Constantino})le. Early the next morning we put off to sea. All day long our vessel crept around the coast of Greece, amid many islands, which seem to have I dropped down for beauty in tlie ^Egean Sea. These islands, as well as the coast-hills of Greece, appear brown and barren. The long hot summer months cause vegetation to die, so that in this respect there is in the autumn a look of desolation. Cooler atmosidiere and gentle rains of the autumn bring these hills and islands to life with a verdure which continues all the winter through. At eventide our vessel began to strike out of sight of the islands; and as the night- hours wore away it strode across the ^Egean Sea, so that with the firing of the cannon on the morning of the fourteenth our eyes caught sight of the distant shores of Asia, where the sea narrows down to the Hellespont. The scenery is delightful. The Hellespont, called the Dardanelles, was thick with ves- sels, boats, and steamers. These had lain at anchor for the night, because no vessel may pass this strait except in day- light. Attempting to pass in the night, any vessel is instantly fired upon by the huge batteries which from either side stand the sentinels of this path of the sea. At this point Leander, in former times, and Lord Byron of later times, swam the Ii28 FRAXCK, ITALY, GREECE, AXD TURKEY. Hellespont from shore to shore. I should judge it a very poor place for the practice of l)eginners. I ke])! up a sharp lookout, but just where the l)ridge was put across of which the student reads when he studies “Xenophon's Anabasis” I could not descry. But no matter, I enjoyed the sail up the “bridge of the Greeks'’ none the less, for on the left were the sloping hills of Europe aiid on the right those of Asia, putting on a robe of green. At times the IIelles})ont seems only a mile wide, or l)ut little more, when soon its hanks recede so that sheltering ha}-s spread out their bosoms by its sides. After a few hours thus hemmed in on either side the shores seem to retire little by little until the}' are out of sight, and here and there extended islands fall under view. Thus our A'essel was in the Sea of Marmora, through which many a lleet of war has plowed its way in the centuries which are j>ast. Vessels are not allowed to enter the Bos2H)rus after the setting of the sun; so at the first fallings of the eventide with the shores and narrow channel of the Bosporus full in view, our vessel anchored at the head of the Marmora. The motley company of Greeks and Turks, with a little sprinkle of Austrians, Armenians, and ]K‘rhaps Bulgarians, which made up the steerage passengers, afl'orded amusement for any who took interest in the curiou.s. Xo one could describe them. Men in all jmssihle attire except ordinary men's clothes, and eating all the time when not smoking or asleep or (pnirreling, with a few women all tied up in their funny dresses so that only their eyes stuck out, made a scene not to he found e.xcept in oriental countries. There were only a few cal)in passengers. Among these were an elderly gentleman and lady of Xewton Center, Massachu- setts, Rev. Dr. S. F. Smith and lady, who were returning from India. He will he remembered by the reader as the author of the precious missionary hymn, “The morning light is break- ing,” and that one national hymn we love, “ My country, ’ tis of thee.” An incident occurred while our vessel lay at anchor in the Sea of Marmora which I can not help here relating. As was the custom of our company, we had gathei'ed in the clear IXCIDEXT. 229 moonlight upon the upper deck to spend an hour in song and thoughts of the far away. One of the company being asked to name the song, he named, “ My country, ’tis of tliee.” And amid the murmur of the waves of the Sea of Marmora Ave sprinkled the music of that song so dear to hearts thousands of miles from their native land ; “ My country! ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty , Of thee I sing.” At the close of the song the aged gentleman and woman seemed much delighted, and Avith kindly grace .said, “ We did not expect to hear you sing that song.” SAveeter to us all than eA'eu this precious song, was another almost divineh' inspired A'er.se, set in its jeAvel sisters, as our hearts Avandered aAvay through melloAv air beyond seas and continents and ocean Avild to loA’ed ones from Avhoni Ave had been sp])arated for long AA'eary months. So we sung, — *■ T.icre is a scene wliere spirits blend, Where friend holds fellowship with friend. Though sundered far, by faith Ave meet Around one common mercy-seat.” Tt AA’as not until several days later that any one of our com- ])any thought that the Mr. Smith who had been AV’ith us Avas the author of the hymn the singing of Avhich seemed to fill the old man’s heart Avith joy. Had our company knoAvn Avho it Avas that heard the singing they Avould have done their best. Ea'Cs fall on us ahvays of Avhich Ave are unconscious. Constantinople is a city Avith a marvelous natural endoAA'- ment, as one might say, respecting location. Fittingly enough, its strength of location became the charm of Constantine’s eye Avheii he desired to found an eastern capital for the empire of old Rome. M'ith the Hellespont and Sea of Marmora on the south-Ave.st, connecting Avith the ^Hgean Sea, and the Bos- porus to the north-east connecting Avith the Black Sea, Con- stantinople .stands on the banks of the Avaters which link the great .seas together by an easily defended chain, and at the same time is.the key to eastern Europe and Avestern Asia, as 230 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. well as to Russia on the north, and the western world entire, including Africa as well. With Scutari on the eastern shore, — the Asiatic side, — Stamboul south of the Golden Horn, and Pera on the northern shore, we have Constantinople; or if the reader will imagine a huge capital Y it will well represent the sea here. The bottom of the letter lying nearly north represents the Bosporus connecting at the end with the Black Sea; the left stem looking from the Black Sea, the Bosporus connecting with the Sea of Marmora, and the right and more slender stem the Golden Horn. To the west there is Pera ; east, Scutari; and in the forks of the Y is Stamboul, the site of the old Byzantine city. This composes a city entire of almost one million inhabitants. This mass of people is made up of every nationality in the.se ends of the earth. There are the Turks, the Greeks, the French, the Armenians, the Bul- garians, the Levantines, — a mixture of several people, — the Jews, and how many others I can not tell. There was the Byzantine city before Constantine founded in A. D. 330 the city which he wished to call New Rome, but whose court named it after the emperor himself. For tifteen centuries it has been the cajiital of an empire. To sketch its history in mere outline, or to show the character of its peo})le from the first through its successive changes, would make a volume. I can only glance at a few of its jjresent striking characteristics. It is the home of the sultan, or king of Tur- key, and the seat of the Ottoman power. Here we should ex- pect to see the effects of Mohammedanism in their unhindered influence. In a somewhat retii'cd })lace in the northern part of the city, on the European side of the Bosporus, the sultan keeps his harem. The recent murder of one of his predeces- sors, with the assassination of other crowned heads of this eastern world, has led him to a life of much greater retirement than that led by the former occupants of the throne. The deposed sultan, who was some years ago removed from the throne on account of insanity, is also now living in a ])alaee in the same j)ortion of the city, and is kept under the clostjst guard. It is not thought that he is now deranged. The hills BURIAL SCENES. 231 and banks of the Bosporus have upon tliem many beautiful palatial dwellings, which have been given by the sultan to his relatives and friends as residences. In that part of the city called Stamboul, between the Sea of Marmora and the tJolden Horn, there is erected a splendid niosc^ue tomb for the burial-place of the mother of the murdered sultan. She is yet living ; nevertheless, she will go to the tomb by and by. Here 1 must allow the reader to locjk at a funeral scene, as 1 one day beheld it at Constantinople. Our carriages were driving outside the old walls of Stamboul. For several miles we had been passing along the edge of one vast cemetery, crowded with grave-stones. Sometimes our way lay directly through this vast burial-ground — for be it remembered that outside the city everywhere there is one continued grave-yard, where millions lie in the “city of the dead,” which has been increasing its population for more than two thousand five hundred years. Coming upon a Greek church near which a funeral was occurring, and seeing a corp.se carried out, I stopped the driver and drew near to witness the scene. It ,was the burial of a young man. One prie.st headed the pro- cession, and a number of men accompanied the corpse. The lid of the coffin was carried before by a young man. The corpse was neatly dressed, with face uncovered. The coffin was set upon the ground beside where the grave-digger was preparing a place for its reception. A stout fellow was dig- ging the grave. I was startled to see him throwing out human bones with the dirt as though they were pebbles. Soon he had thrown out the bones of an entire skeleton, broken in jiieces bj" the mattock and shovel. A bystander grimly piled the larger pieces in a jilace on the dirt together. The coffin-lid was now and then used to measure with, to determine whether the hole was large enough. There seemed to be no more seri- ousness with all this than if a rabbit were being skinned. I soon got enough of it. From the guide I learned that when one of the Greeks dies he is buried in the grave of the last deceased member of the family if he or she has been dead three years or more. This accounted for the digging uj> of 232 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY the bones. Perhaps four or five years before, surely not longer, a brother or father or mother or sister had been buried here ; and these were the bones. If they have not been buried three 3'ears a new grave must be made. When the grave is com- pleted they remove the clothes from the corpse and wrap it in white cloth. The friends come to the grave and the priest reads a service, and the grave is closed, the bones dug up being thrown back promiscuously. Five minutes later I witnessed another funeral procession, in which a woman Avas being borne from the church, Avhere a scu-nion had been preached. She Avas evidently a Avoman of importance. A number of boys, perhaps tAventy, Avere in front Avith shields of tin or brass and banners on stafis. These Avere folloAved by half a dozen lAi’iests and a bearer of the coffin-lid, and men Avith lighted candles. After the corpse folloAved a number of men and Avomen. At the grave the same jAroccdure Avent on as in the scene l>efore Avitnessed. The clothes nanoved from the dead are given to the poor. The burials of the Armenians are similar to those of the Greeks. The Turks do not bury in a former grave, but close by one, and use no coffin for the dead. They believe that the .soul is in torment from the time of death until the body is buried; so the funeral is performed AA’ith all ])ossible speed, the l)carers even running Avith the corpse. No cemetery of the })eople is in re})air. Tombs are broken doAvn. GraA’c-stones are fallen, and in some cases taken to build up ])retended fences aloiAg the roadside. X(*arly all the graA'e-stones IniA'e on them the device of tin* turl)an as AA'orn by tbe deceased. These of course A’ary in kind and size, according to the rank of tlu' })crson. The .dabs are always smaller at the bottom than at the top, and are usAially covered with inscriptions from the Koran from one end to the other. In the early history of Constantino})le there Avas erected a triple wall, embracing as it noA\' does the older part of the city. Its traces haA'e largely disa})})cared along the southern side of Stamboul upon the Sea of Marmora. But at the AA’estern side of the city, crossing the land from Marmora to the Golden Horn, a distance of six mile.s, it is almost as per- DUGS. 233 feet as when erected fifteen centuries ago. This triple line of massive rainjiarts is of alternate courses of stone and brick, with a deep moat outside, which in jfiaces is entirely filled up. All along the distance, as well as along the northern side, run- ning along the Golden Horn, there are giant old square towers, at a distance of a hundred or more feet, rising up as tremen- dous guards of the walls below. At the end next to the Sea of Marmora is a group of round towers about two hundred feet high and one hundred feet in diameter. These, with their connecting walls, form an inclosure used as a prison. Here deposed sultans have often been confined ; and no less than seven ci’owned heads have here been cut from the body. In times of terrible slaughter, continued through years, the heads of the murdered have been piled uji in one corner of this j^rison until they could be seen above tlie level of the wall, which must here be seventy- five feet high. These walls everywhere show the marks of awful sieges they have resisted, and have often been repaired. For the last four hun- dred years or more they liave been left to the lone touch of time and chance; and their indescribable massiveness of pro- portions is heightened here and there by the ivy which liov- ers over them and far uji to the towers, as though to shield them from decay. Some of the gates of the city are closed up. One of the best entrances has been walled shut for centuries, on account of the superstitious belief which prevails that the Christians will at some time effect an entrance through it to the capture of the city from the ^lohammedans. No one who has not visited Constantinople can understand what is meant when it is denominated a “city of dogs.” It is full of dogs. Most of them are of a yellowish or brindle color, and from the size of a fox upward. There are hundreds and thousands of them — one is almost teni{)ted to say mill- ions of them, so great is their number. They are everywhere. You hear their bark or their yeljt every moment. They are in the streets and alleys and lanes and markets and on the bridges over the arm of the sea and in the dej)ot and on tlie wharves. You can not mi.'^s a dozen of tliem. Litters of 234 FRANCE, irAJ.Y, GREECE, AND TURKEY. them lie under the cover of almost every wall where there is safety. I several times counted thirty, forty, and at times fifty of them within a radius of a few rods. They do not congregate at special 2)laces, fijr they liave their own territor}’ and seem to keep it ; and woe to that one who ventures into the territory of his neighbor dog, and especially by night. They are not owned hy anybody. They are free as the air they breathe, and free as the fleas they breed. They live on what they can get. In the day-time they are quiet enough, and peaceable, seldom giving disturbance to any. In the night they are self-appointed sentinels to guard wliere they please. I^ong as music is dear I shall remember the yelp and howl and nightly chase and roar with which they cheered my waking hours as the night wore its sIoav dull shades away. Of another place it is said, “Without are dogs,” hut at Constantinople thev are within. The Mohammi'dan religion foiTids that anv one kill a dog, so they are neither loved nor hated. From the first I re.^^olved to “beware of dogs,” and thus kept the vow. It took two or three nights practicing, however, before I knew how to sleep amid thOr oft-re}>eated chases, bowlings, and veliangs, as .scores followed each other in hot pursuit, some brindle pup having no doubt trespassed ui)on the terri- tory of his canine neighbor. CHAPTER XI. Constantino pie — Head - Dress — Carriers — Streets — Houses — Mosques — St. Sophia — Calling the Faithful to Prayer — Hours of Prayer — In- cident— Mohammedan Worship — Women Outside — Bazaars — Inter- preters—Trip to the Black Sea — The Bosporus— Bible-House— Robert College — Girls’ Home-School — Plea for Womanhood. HERE is no city on the globe like Constantinople. It is in many of its features almost as oriental in type as Damascus, and yet there is every variety of race, color, and life. The costumes worn are largely oriental, Y while the red fez or skull-cap is universally worn. It seems ■ poorly adapted to the warm climate, though it is re- ally handsome. It allows no ventilation to the head; and many a hald head pays its honor to the fez. Of course many Avear the turl)an, Avhich twisted about the head to the size of a pock-measure is no handsome thing. Donkeys are not poAverful or numerous enough for the bearing of the burdens to be carried here, so men are to be seen carrying almost every- thing on their hacks. Huge leathern bottles are used to carry Avater; and these are carried on the back. Indeed they have a great carrier's knot Avhich is put on the back of a man, and on that everything is carried. On it from tAVO to a half dozen va- lises or trunks are piled, or a lot of kegs, or dr}' goods, or a couple dozen of chairs, or a four-bushel basket of figs or grapes, or a like quantity of melons, or a goods box three by four feet in size. Looking at these poor beasts of burden boAved down under this service till they are hardly human, trudging along the streets Avith a sing-song tone warning others from their way, burdened Avith loads Avhieh a horse could scarcely bear, I could not but think of the bondage of Israel in Egypt when 285 23(3 FBAXCE, ITALY, Li REECE, AND TURKEY. Phanioh, as the reeonl again and again states it, “Made them to serve vith rigor.” Tliis hawking along the streets and lanes, going on day and night, is very disagreeable. Every- where yon can hear, no, you muxt hear from three to twenty street-hawkers calling out in a loud sing-song voice and ask- ing the ])eople to huy of them as they trudge along with their wan>s. The streets of the cit}' are called such only because tliere is no other name for them. Properly .speaking, Constan- tinople has no streets. They can only in cliarity or for lame- ness of language he called such. The hotel at which our company stopped is situated on the best street in Constanti- nople, and it is only about thirty feet wide. Where there are sidewalks they are not over tAVo or tliree feet Avide, and are of no use. Tlie streets or lanes run anyAvhere and CA’cry- Avhere and anvAvay. The houses seem to have heen built Avherever it suited best, and thus the streets Avere left to take (tare of thcmselA'es. Many of the houses are of comfortable •9 covers them, as may also the places aucl forms of the cross effaced from the pillars and corridor railings. Texts from the Koran adorn the walls. The chandeliers have in all ten thou- sand lamps. Some of the Turks who followed us through the mosque dug some of the fine mosaics from the wall, and I l)ought them for a trifle. As our company Avas about entering the Mo.s(pie of St. Sophia, a loud call fell on our ears from the opening at the top of the tall minaret as the ]>rie.st called the faithful to prayer, in these words, “Allahu akbar, Allahiv akbar, .Allah a ukbar, Af^h- hadu anna la ilaha ill, Allah, va Muhammaln — rra-'^ul — Al- lah hayya alas — salla.'' These sounds Avere repeated OA'er and over again. They Avould l>e rendered, “Allah is great : I tes- tify that there is no God hut Allah, and Mohammed is the I)rophct of Allah; come to prayer.” This call to prayer is made five times each day — soon after sunset; at night-fall, or an hour and a half after sunset; day-break; mid-day; and about an hour and a half before sunset. On Friday the noon- day prayers are called earlier and a sermon is deliA’ered. Fri- day ansAA'ers in some respects Avith the Mohammedans to our Sabbath, though it is not a day of rest. It is usually their great market-day. But to these calls to praA’er the faithful respond. In the court of the mo.^que are small fountains and troughs filled Avith Avater, and at these the deA’out AA'orshipers remoA'ed their shoes and Avashed their feet and hands and faces. This is a recjuirenient of their religion. I noticed Avith curious anxiety this preparation for Avorshij). They all en- tercal the mosque barefooted, but did not remoA^e their fez. By removing the shoes from my feet and paying a franc, as did all our company, I Avas allowed to enter the mo.sque, being at- tended Avith a guard of soldiers. After A'ieAving the mosque we ascended to Avhat Avas formerly knoAvn as the Avoman's gallery, from Avhich Ave had a splendid aTcav of this strange Avorship of the Mohammedans. For myself I liaA-e felt a greater sense of personal security than Avhen Avalking about in this hoh' place. We were constantly Avatched Avith the closest atten- tion, and rather saA-agely by one or two old j)riests. One of 24U FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. thfiii murmured something, which our guide interpreted afterward as being, “You Christians need not tliink you can come and take our mosque away from us.” They seem to fear tliat the Christians will some time try to take Constantino- ple and their mosque from them. Indeed, it is said they live with this constant 'fear. The worship is such as I can not describe. In the end of the mosque toward Mecca the altar is always placed ; hut as this teni])le does not face to- ward IMecca, the altar is placed in the side south of the nar- row apsU. This is necessary, since Mecca is south-east and the central })oint of the semicircle is directly east. From this j)oint the priest leads the prayers. Of course, the wide strijrs of matting, al)out ten or twelve feet in width, do not run with the S(|uare of the building, but are square with the place of the altar. To the right and left is a high pulpit or kind of scaffold ten by fifteen feet, and about ten feet high, on which were a dozen priests, who were kneeling and bowing, a n d singing their prayers. These strips of yellow -straw matting do not touch each other, but leave a bare strip of one foot in width, on which the worshipers set their shoes when they come mohammedans at peater. to worship. Upon each one of these strips of matting was a row of men, side by side, Avith their faces toAvard the altar. Perhajjs one hundred and fifty Avere at Avoi’ship at one time. Sometimes at ])rayer all would stand up ; then all would fall doAvn suddenly upon their faces, striking the floor Avith their foreheads. Then they Avould eleAuite their heads and remain kneeling; then stand up; and then sit doAvn flat. As this Avas going on the priests at the altar Avould call out, Allah allnh,” — the great God, — and other sounds, Avhich I could not distinguish, Avhich were taken up by the priests on the eleva- MOHAMMEDANS AT PRAYER. 241 tions. These screaming sounds were aj)2nirently the signals to which the movements went on. Those who have green turbans on their heads are either descendants of Mohammed a number of them in the corridors kneeling and going through the same form of gesture as that which was performed inside. The men keep the women in a kind of bestial servitude, and are displeased to see them giving any attention to matters of religion or education. After the service was over some women came in and knelt before an altar, and seemed to be receiving teaching out of the Koran from a priest. In other mosques I saw groups of ten or a dozen men kneeling around a ])ricst, from whom they seemed to be memorizing, or to whom they were reciting the Koran. Some of these mosques are places of deposit for valuables; and in con- nection with a number are large squares, where pilgrims to Mecca or fugitives from other countries are allowed to camp and rest. I saw a number of the pilgrims about some of the mosques. From their poor, miserable, filthy, lazy lives I should judge that a religion which did not do more for them than Mohammedanism docs is not worth fighting or fleeing for. One of the queer sights of Constantinople is its great ba- zaars, where Turks and Jews, artisans and traders, prepare and sell their goods. The great building in which these ba- zaars are kept is cut up into narrow streets and crowded stalls, for the sale of goods. Special departments are devoted to the l)art in this worship; I nor were the}" formerly a 1 1 o w e tl to enter the or have been on a j)il- grimage to Mecca. This worshij) was continued about twenty minutes, after which they went away in groujis. Women are not allowed to take MOHAMMEDANS AT EKAYEE. . mosque, althoiigh I saw 16 242 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. different kind of wares. Along one isle, or street, are stalls of shoes, then jewelry, then brass, then clothes. All of these, and everything else you can think of, with dogs and beggars, are exhibited to the best possible advantage. When entering one of these larger bazaars the keeper at once orders coffee — a method of indicating friendship in that country. Men fol- loAV you and try to pull you to their bazaar ; women follow you, begging for backshish. So persistently do they torment one that he thinks of the importunate widow, and of the sorceress who followed Paul at Philippi, and of many other incidents which are not scriptural. But he does his best to get them away, and .succeeds, thinking, “now they are gone,” and takes a full breath. But alas ! here are two or three more at the elbow, whining away worse than ever. One character Avhich always interests a traveler here is his courier or guide ; for be it remembered that an American can do but little in seeing a city in any of these foreign countries without a guide who can speak the various languages. Our company had the services of Mr. Joseph Jacobs, whom we laconicalh’ called “ Joseph.” Through the crowds of Turks he pressed the way here and there, holding up his heavy cane, calling, “ This way, please.” “This way, all.” “This way, quick.” Many were the quiet laughs afforded by his skillful managing of those with whom we had to deal. How he got our company through the custom-house with a feAV francs, and a humorous shove and push and kick to the officers wlio wanted more, was a specimen of practical joking seldom seen. One day was devoted to a trij) up the Bosporus to tlie Euxine or Black Sea. The scenery is delightful. Nature has piled up hills of mighty defense around the mouth of tlie great Black Sea, the entrance to which is scarcely a mile Avide. The remains of old towns and Avails are yet to be seen on the hills on either side. On the Asiatic side toAvers and Avails are well preserved. These walls once ran doAvn to the edge of the sea, and great chains Avere stretched across the channel from shore to shore to keep the way of the deep, so that A^es- sels from the Bosporus might not enter the sea, and none BIBLE-HOUSE. 243 come from the sea to Constantinople. Around the shores are a few little fishermen’s huts, where slow, drowsy Turks had drawn their nets ashore and were at quiet rest. Were this passage to the sea in the hands of Europeans or Amer- icans, it would soon be one of the most delightful spots in the world. The crooked Bosi^orus, with its rapid current at places, and its expanding bays, was crowded with sail-ves- sels, boats, and steamers. 1 counted nearly one hundred at one time, with not less than twenty of these queens of the deep far out in the bosom of tlie Euxine. Christian enterprise in America, which has sent out mis- sionaries over all seas, and its Bible-agents in all lands, has not passed by Constantinople, the seat of the Ottoman empire. This effort to plant permanently the power of Bible-truth, following the laboi’s of missionaries in the surrounding na- tions, has built here several institutions, the power of which is not now to be computed. Among tliese is the work of the American Bible-Society, with its center at the American Bible- House. The buildings are owned by an incorporated company in the United States, and are commodious and well located, and furnish a splendid and prominent center for this work. It was my privilege to visit the Bible-House, and also to meet Dr. Bliss, agent of the Bible-Society, and also Dr. Pettybone, to whose labors here with Dr. Bliss and others there is a great debt due for the securing of this location and the carry- ing forward of the work. The Bible-Society here sells the Scriptures in twenty-three different languages, and publishes Bibles in Bulgarian, Turkish, Greek, Armenian, and other tongues. In 1881, sixty-five thousand copies of the Script- ures were sold to the people of the surrounding cities and countries. The sales are at such prices as enable the laboring classes to purchase them. This is, of course, at a loss to the society, but is much better than gratuitous distribution, for many reasons. A native Armenian rents a portion of the Bible-House, and does the entire work of publishing as em- ployed by the Bible-Society. His facilities are so adequate that he also publishes a number of periodicals in different 2U FRASCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. languages for the American Board of Missions. Some of these papers have a circulation of six and more thousand. The Monthly Illustrated has a circulation of seven thousand. Not less than one half million ])agcs are annually issued and sent forth from this house. Of coiu’se, most of the Bil)les sold from the American Bible-Society are to Armenians and Bulgarians ; yet in the last six years twenty tliousand cojaes have been thus circulated among the Turks. That this seed of the word of God planted in the.se ends of the earth should bring forth fruit to the salvation of not only men, but of the nations, there is great reason to hope. Robert College is a monument of American Christian benef- icence and Christian toil performed by earnest and faithful men. Its location on the height of the European side of the Bos2)oru.s, above the towers which defended the city centu- ries ago, is the most splendid tliat 2)ossihly could have been secured. About fourteen years ago INIr. Robert, of New York, furnished the means for the founding of this institution. The structure, though (piite too .miall for present needs, is nicely l)uilt. It is one hundred feet square, besides an addi- tional building in the rear. It has about two hundred and fifty students, one hundred and sixty of whom are boarders in the institution. They are Armenians, Bulgarians, Greeks, and some Turks, with other nationalities. At eleven o'clock. Sabbath, October 16th, we met with the faculty and the stu- dents for i>ublic worship in the college-chapel. Dr. Fry of our company preached a sermon of much sim})licity and ajq)ropri- ateness from II. Tim. i. 12 : “I know whom I have believed.” The students gave close attention to the Avords upon the doc- trine of personal Christian experience and assurance. Thes(‘ .students, though from influences quite other than Protestant, are led through the college not only to human knowledge but to a knoAvledge of Christ. The institution has five or six professors, besides more than that number of teachers. Each .Gudent is obliged to study the English language and the lan- guage of his country besides; and he is urged to pursue the full course of study, Avhich is similar to that of American col- GIR LS ’ HOMK-SCil 0 OL. 245 leut he expected a resurrection from the dead and a reward by and by. As Paul Avas returning from his tliird missionary tour he came to Miletus. He could not forget the church here at Ephesus. Pressed for time, he could not visit the scene of his labors, so he sent for the elders PAUL'S ADDRESS TO THE EPHESIAXS. 261 of the Ephesian clumh to come to him at Miletus. Ilis address is the most splendid i)astoral utterance ever delivered to a church. It so veil explains the history of his toil here in this city now so desolate, that I turn to this touching dis- course : “Ye know, from the first day that I came into Asia, after wliat manner I have been with you at all seasons, serving the Lord with all humility of mind, and with many tears, and temptations, which befell me by the lying in wait of the Jews: and how I kept back nothing that was profit- able unto you, but have shewed you, and have taught j’ou publicly, and from house to house, testifying both to the Jews, and also to the G-reeks, repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. And now, behold, I go bound in the .spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there: save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every cit3% savdng that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things move me, neither count I iny life dear unto myself, so that I might finish mj’ course with joy, and the ministiw, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God. And now, behold, I know that ye all, among whom I have gone preaching the kingdom of God, shall see m.v face no more. Wherefore I take j'ou to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men. Fori have not shunned to de- clare unto you all the counsel of God. “Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all the flock, over the which the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers, to feed the church of God, which he hath purchased with his own blood. For I know this, that after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among j^ou, not sparing the flock. Also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them. Therefore watch, and remem- ber, that by the space of three years I ceased not to warn every one night and day with tears. And now, brethren, I commend yon to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give 3'ou an inheritance among all them which are sanctified. I have coveted no man’s silver, or gold, or apparel. Yea, 3'e yourselves know, that these hands have ministered unto my necessities, and to them that were with me. I have shewed you all things, how that so laboring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.” After this they knelt down and prayed. “ And they all wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck, and kissed him, sorrowing most of all for the tvords which he spoke, that they should see his face no more.” Thus dear was Ephesus to the apostle. Afterward when he 262 FRANCE, ITATA\ GREECE, AND TURKEY. was a prisoner at Rome, he wrote his first epistle to the church here. It is indeed a wonderful letter, and is recognizetl as one of his greatest epistles. Here, too, Timothy Avas bishop of the church for a long season. In this city through Avhose crumbled ruins I Avandered, tst. John, the onH one of the tAA’eh’e apostles aaJio escaped mar- tyrdom, it is belicA'ed died in peace, honored by the lo\'e of the “children'’ he so dearly and tenderly loved for Christ's sake. lie- Avas the beloved disciple, and here he tariled long by the Avill of the Master. The place is pointed out where he ..deeps Avho was early at the tomb of his crucified Christ, and who Avas often Avont to lean on the bosom of Jesus. I visited thb spot Avhere it is asserted his body Avas buried. I can not tell how this is, but his head leans on the bosom of .lesus OA’er in the -jity Avhich falls into ruins never, but becomes grander as the treasures of eternity are continually gathering into it. SomeAvhere here amid these Avrecks of time is the dust of Timothy, and may be the mother of Christ, Avhose home Avas Avith John, but I could not find them ! When “he that hold- eth the seven stars in his right hand” ap2)eared to the solitary apostle on Patinos, he ordered the first address to be sent to the church at Ephesus. The reader Avill find it in the opening of the second chapter of Revelation. Ephesus spreads out its doleful, desolate, and forsaken ruins. Mount Prion, once croAvned as the center of supreme earthly grandeur, sits solitary in its desolation and mourning. Old corridors and marl Jed streets Avail at the passer-by. Crum- bling Avails and sarcophagi Avhose dead have vanished in dust thousands of years ago, look Avofully on the pilgrim who has come from afar! Alas, alas! for the glory of Ephesus! For ages she has been in sackcloth, and none comes to lift up the veil of her mourning! And yet amid her Avastes I seemed to have touched a spirit divine. There is that Avhich perishes not at Ephesus 1 CHAPTER XIV. Distances in the Great Sea — Chios — Samos — Patmos — Vision of the Revelator — The Echo of Patmos — Coos — Rhodes — Cyprus — Limer- sol — Larnica — Salamis — Paul and Barnabas on Cyprus— Witnesses. HE Mediterranean is indeed a “great sea.” Distances between places are much greater than I had conceived ^ tliem to he. We are accustomed to lose sight of the drudgery and toil and weariness of travel which must Y have made up a large portion of the lives of the apostles, with whom these regions stand associated. Our vessel was almost a week going from Constantinople to Palestine. Rut how vast were these distances to Paul, who, with imper- fect means of navigation, hastened with anxiety from Greece to Jerusalem wdth a heart full of longing to keep the great feast there. (Acts xx. 16.) By six o’clock on Saturday evening, October 22d, our ship drove out of the splendid harbor at Smyrna and was off at sea. One can not enter such a voyage without some trepida- tion. Sometimes a pleasant passage is made over the Mediter- ranean. From Rhodes to Cyprus, however, there is usually a rolling sea sufficient to give the passenger a good “tossing up.” About three o’clock on Sabbath morning our vessel stopped at Chios. (See Acts xx. 15.) This island is about thirty-two miles long. It has had an illustrious history, and has always been noted for its wines, figs, and silks. For a long time it witnessed great battles with various changes of the country. Recently it has been almost rendered uninhabitable by the most dreadful earthquakes. It is now little more than a heap of ruins. As the morning opened calm and clear, wdth a delightful skv, we sailed close under the island Samos, at 263 264 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. which Paul stoi)peJ on his return from Greece on his third missionaiy tour. Its glistening mountains sparkled in the morning sun. Its Greek name — Samos — means a mountain. Here and there thin clouds hovered over the sliarp crvstal- like peaks, presenting a picture of delicate beauty. About 9 : 30 a. m. my eyes caiight the first view of the i.sle that is called Patinos, on which God made his great revelajtion to John. As a halt hour passed, the full form of the island rose in view, with its l)arren peaks crowned here and there with a hovering cloud, from which an angel might speak to mortal man. It was just 10:30 Sabbath morning when I secured a full view of the island, at a distance of ten or fifteen miles away. It was the hour for morning service in our churches far oft’ at home beyond the seas. It was the lioly Sabbath. And was not John “in the Spirit on the Lord's day’’ when Domitian had banished him to this barren place “for the word of God, and for the testimony of Jesus Christ’"? I scanned the island for an hour from peak to peak, and from one rocky shoulder to another, and from one declivity to aii(»tlier, if per- chance my eyes might fall on the sjtot Avliere the revelator stood when he heard behind him “a great voice, as of a trum- pet saying, I am Al^iha and Omega, the first and the last: and, What thou seest, write in a book.” On one of tliose mountains “John fell at his feet as dead ” when he saw “ in the midst of the seven candle-sticks one like unto the Son of man, clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about the paps with a golden girdle. His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow ; and his eyes were as a flame of fire ; and his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace ; and his voice as the sound of many waters. And he had in his right hand seven stars : and out of his mouth went a sharp two-edged sword : and his counte- nance was as the sun shineth in his strengtli.” (Revelation i. 13-16.) The four thousand peojile living on this island surely do not realize that these mountains once glowed in the glory of God’s presence. The town of Patinos was in full sight, and to the VISIOX OF THE liEVELATOB. 2Go right the Monastery of St. John the Divine, founded in the twelfth century. And from yonder isle came the solemn warnings and glorious promises which the revelator was or- dered to send to the churches, and which have come down to iis with their meaning multiplied by ten thousand providen- ces of God. It is safe to say that much of the imagery of the revelator given on Patmos is unequaled and unrivaled by any-' thing that has ever been brought to the conception of man. The fifth chajder of Revelation has never l)een ecpialed in the drama. It is as high above Shakespeare as heaven is above the earth. Many of the figures and much of the great lesson may be to the ages to come ; but the message of God from this lone island of the ^Egean Sea is a fitting peroration to the word of God in whatever light it may be considered. ' One sits down in subdued reverence in sight of the mount- ains of Patmos as he remembers how the angel carried John “away in the spirit to a great and high mountain,” where he showed him “ the bride, the Lamb’s wife,” and “ that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God.” I conclude that this scene was witn(*ssed from that tall peak northward from where the village of Patmos is situated — at least it is the highest peak of the island. P'rom it did the entranced a2)0stle see the one with “ a golden reed to measure the city,” which he saw twelve thousand furlongs every way lying four square ? These very mountains must have glowed like jasjier and shone like pearls when the city of God stood forth with the Lord God Almighty, and the Lamb as the tem- ple of it; for the city seen from that lofty mountain “had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light of it.” And the gates of it shall not be shut at all; for there shall be no night there. Our vessel did not stoji at Patmos. Only for three hours did my eyes scan the bare and rocky little island, not more than forty-five miles in circumference, upon which God last stood to speak face to face with man in special revelation of his will and divine purposes. At the noontide another 266 FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, AND TURKEY. island slipped betw-een oui’ vessel and Patmos and it was out of sight forever. Turning away from the lone sentinel of the deep from which our Ia)rd sent his last message to the church and the world, I thought I heard the vibration of that voice like mighty notes rolling down the vista of the passing ages, echoing, “Surely I come quickly;” “Even so come. Lord •Jesus.” The course of the vessel over the Mediterranean was the same as that taken Ijy Paul in his journeyings in this sea. We passed in full view of Coos (Acts xxi. 1), and by 8; 30 p. M. on Sal)bath our vessel lay at anchor off the isle of Rhodes. Plutarch tells us that here at Rhodes Cicero studied oratory under Appollonius, and, because Appollonius did not under- stand I.,atin, declaimed in Greek. So well did he accomplish his tasks that he won the ])raise of his teacher, who said to him, “You have my i)raise and admiration, Cicero, and Greece my pity and commiseration, since those arts and that elo- quence, which are the only glories which remain to her, will now he transferred by you to Rome.” A large number of boys came on board our vessel with all kinds of trinkets for sale. Some articles were very pretty, and showed skill in mechan- ism. In a few hours we were again off to sea; and through the .Egean the vessel was sheltered by little islands and groups of islands all the way. Then the vessel strode from all these and crossed the great hody of the Mediterranean until on Tuesday morning our eyes caught a view of Cyprus, five hundred and fifty miles from Smyrna, and one hundred and fifty miles from Beyrc'ot on the coast of Syria. Our vessel remained at Limasol, on the south coast of the island, four hours, during which time passengers, goods, etc., were })ut ashore. Among our cargo were forty-five head of heef- cattle, being taken to Cyprus for beef, to feed the English peoifie there. It was amusing to see the men hoist the cattle out of the Iiold and swing them out into the sea, and with foi;r to a row-boat swim them two miles to the shore. Several of them kicked out of the bandages when suspended in mid- air and head foremost “sounded” the depth of the sea. How PAUL AND BARNABAS ON CYPRUS. 267 far they went down I do not know ; and such a lookout as the Turks kept up for their return was amusing. These were rude things to look upon, under the splendid eastern skies. In the evening the moon in its youth rose like a crescent just above the sea, as delicate as the ring on a lady’s finger. In the morning the sun appeared without a cloud between, just like a great ball of fire rising out of the sea. Four hours along the southern coast of Cyprus brought the vessel to Larnica, a clean town about forty miles south of Salamis, where Paul entered the island on his first missionary tour. The island is about one hundred and fifty miles long and fifty in width. It is probably the Kittim of Genesis x. 4, and the Chittim of Numbers xxiv. 24, and Isaiah xxiii. 1-12, and Ezekiel xxvii. 6. When the persecution arose against the early church at Jerusalem, some of the disciples who fled came to this island and preached the gospel. (Acts xi. 19.) After the ordination of Paul, and Barnabas, who was a native of Cyprus (Acts iv. 36), to the special work to which the Holy Ghost had called them by the church at Antioch, Cyprus was the first place visited after their leaving Seleucia. The apostles, landing at Salamis on the east of the island, passed through it to the west. Here Sergius Paulus, a “ prudent man,” heard the word of God * from Paul and Barnabas and believed. And here Ely mas the sorcerer was smitten with blindness. The estimate in which the word of God holds those who seek to turn men away from the path of Christ is shown by Paul’s withering curse on Elymas. (See Acts xiii. 10, 11.) Thus did God in those ancient times manifest himself in power in these parts of the earth that we upon whom the ends of . the world have come might know and believe in his Son Jesus Christ. These seas and islands are silent but mighty witnesses to the historic record God has given to the world. Thus slowly have I led the reader on his journey to the Holy Land. Our path has been through cities, countries, mountains, rivers, cathedrals, palaces, towers, battle-fields, heathen temples, scenes of apostolic labor and suffering, con- 268 FRAyCE, ITALY, GREECE, ASD TURKEY. vocations of living men, and the works of art and the tombs' of those long jjassed awa}' ! We have passed many days ih the renowned art-galleries of the old world in which are. collected the products of the loftiest geniuses the world has. ever known. Our eyes and heart have often been enraptured as we looked upon the almost living statues of marble, and the wonderful paintings which the genius and toil of the masters have be(pieathed to us from the j)ast ages. We have often wandered about halls where poets and philosophers' have lived and written in such language of wisdom and. ix^auty as to make themselves immortal. We have climbed lofty towers which have stood for ages as the stately monu- ments of palsied strength and power! We have walked silently through ruins of ancient palaces of splendor, and. Grecian and Roman temj)les erected to the worshi]) of myth- ical deities, and adorned with art so costly and rare that it has survived the crumbling ages. We have strolled through, splendid and gaudy cathedrals where priests and monks chant their monotonous songs and prayers, and often stood by the monumental tombs of poets, artists, kings, emperors, soldiers of valor and renown, until life itself has seemed less than a dream as it has been thus overshadowed by the pres- ence of the dust of those once mighty in deeds and of high renown. Sometinu's we have turned aside here and there to' behold the spots where reformers, and men devout and holy, Avere martyred for Christ’s sake. Thus, often Ave haA^e felt the. stirring of the sentiments and emotions which led on the march of the ages past, and the brain has felt the presence and throb of ideas and thoughts Avhich in their times charmed and revolutionized the Avorld as the sIoav centuries rolled their cycles around. Amid the ruins of cities made sacred to the Christian world by the superhuman labors and sufferings,, and even death of the apostles of Christ, Ave hav'e often found the soul uplifted to God Avith our earnest prayer that we may have grace to appreciate as Ave ought the deeds of New Testa- ment heroes, Avho through Christ made the early history of the church illustrious above all the memories or deeds of men. MODERN PAJ.E STINE Showing its Physical features yahrtdrj)arruirf> Scale of y.Ti^ish Miles (j Grem TeUov> Bro>y' BjuL . CxjJta^le Sand Jc Grcyd Sandstone Granite Calotireous Ras enryti Tantura,] .lupp ah h^ot Vawn, Fhilxuieiphia. iO PART FOURTH. THE HOLY LAND. CHAPTER I. Location of Palestine — How to Reach It — First View of the Holy Land — Long -Cherished Hopes Realized — Types in Mountains and Stone — History of the I.aud — Abraham’s Day — Original Occupants — Their Location — Patriarchs — Possessions of Israel — Period of the Judges — Kings — Greeks and Romans — Times of Christ — Persian Conquests — Crusaders — Kajioleon — Arabs — Present Government of Palestine. dTF the reader should einhark in a steam-vessel at Xew York, and sail from that splendid harbor eastward across the Atlantic ocean, bearing southward about five degrees in three thousand miles, he would strike the eastern world at the entrance of the straits of Gibral- tar. Continuing directly eastward the continent of Eu- rope would be found touching the Avater to the left, and the continent of Africa on the right. You Avould j^ass between Spain and Portugal on the European side, and Morocco on the African side. After passing the straits of Gibraltar and continuing to sail eastward through the Mediterranean sea along the northern coast of Africa about one thousand miles, Sicily would appear on the left hand. From this point, should you sail east-south-east through the Mediter- ranean fourteen hundred miles more you would strike the shore of Syria, or Palestine. You would then be almost six thousand miles east of New Y’ork, and about six hundred .miles southward. The Avestern coast of Palestine lies almost 269 270 THE HOLY LAND. north and south, so that we may say it directly faces the east- ern coast of the more southern states of our own country. Of course the writer's journey has already been detailed in other Images, and such a route as has been followed would usually be chosen by travelers from America. On the morning of Wednesday, October 26th, when I went upon the upper deck of our vessel and looked toward the ris- ing sun coming up in the cloudless sky, behold there stood under the great orb of day the lofty mountains of Lebanon, draped in their garb of glory and wearing a mien of majesty. As my eyes caught the first sight of the tall peaks of Lebanon beyond Beyroot, over ten thousand feet high, though perhaps seventy-five miles away, I felt that I was about to realize the fondest dream of my most lucid moments; and that after long seasons of travel my feet, through the great mercy of God, were soon to be permitted to tread the lands of the Bible, and walk where once the weary steps of the iMaster were followed by his loving disciples. How I remembered the prayer of the leader of Israel a long time ago. “ I pray thee, let me go over and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon.” (Deuteronomy iii. 25.) Weary of the sea and tossing to and fro, I was glad when our vessel lay at anchor in the harbor of Beyroot, and small boats manned by strangely-dressed Arabs rowed us to the shore under the broiling rays of a tropical sun, which reminded me that I should have need of much courage as Avell as strength to pursue well the purpose to see the land of the Bible ! At last my feet rested on the Holy Land. Scenes which had mingled only in visions of holy fancy were to become real, or to have themselves associated forever in my own con- ception as they are in fact with towering mountains, populous cities, and sacred ruins. As a land, this Canaan has long been a type of the heavenly country. Here stood the type before me in earth and stone. So far as is known the writer is the first member of the great Christian and denominational brother- hood with which it has been his lot to stand associated from childhood to rest feet on the sacred soil of this land of the HISTORY OF THE I.AXD. 271 Bible. But how nuiiiy thousands are safely in the paradise above to whom God has opened the land on high and the gates of the eternal morning ! Before advancing farther, it may be well to pause for a little time in our journey and look at the illustrious history of this land of the Bible, condensed into a narrow' compass. Nearly two thousand years Indore Christ, Abram, who had dwelt in Haran in the north, “departed as the Lord had spoken unto him,” and “took 8arai his wife, and Lot his brother’s son, and all their substance that they had gathered, and the souls that they had gotten in Haran; and they went forth to go into the land of Canaan ; and into the land of Canaan they came. And Abram i)assed through the land unto the place of Sichem [Shechem], unto the plain of Moreh. And the Canaanite w'as then in the land.” (Genesis xii. 5, G.) This is our introduction to the history of the Holy Land. Abraham came down by way of Damascus and pitched his tent somewliere under the shadows of Blount Gerizim, where -Ids flocks could easily be led to pasture on the plain of Moreh, east and south of Ebal and Gerizim. The Canaanites, who then held possession of the country, were decendants of Canaan (meaning low), the fourth son of Ham, the second son of Noah. (Genesis x. 6.) At an earl\' day they seem to have become intermingled with tlie descendants of Shem, as they appear to have spoken the Semitic lan- guage, which is akin to the Hebrew. Tliese Canaanites, tlie early occupants of Palestine, were divided into seven tribes. The Canaanites dwelt on the lower .Jordan. (Genesis x. 18-19.) 'Pliis name, however, was also used as a general term for the occupants of the land. The mighty Amorites, mountaineers, dwelt in the south of the land, but they also sometimes extended their possessions eastwaird and northw'ard. The Perizzites dwelt in the country west and south of Carmel. The Hittites owned the land about Hebron — for of them Abraham bought the cave of Machpelah. (Genesis xxiii. 10.) The Hivites dwelt in Sht'chem and north w'ard. The Jeb- usites dwelt in and about Jerusalem. The Gergesites, or 272 THE HOTA' LAND. Gerisites seem to have held possession in different portions of the land. At a later period we have mention of the Semitic tribes, different of course from the Canaanites — such as the Edom- ites and the Moabites, and the Amorites, the descendants of the daughters of Lot. Besides these, we read in the Bible of the Midianites, wandering tribes from the East, and the Amal- elvites, first from Arabian nomads, and afterward connected with the descendants of Esau. At the time of the occupation of the land by Israel under Joshua we read of the Anakim, the descendants of Anak, who were giants ‘‘of a great stature.” (Xunil)ers xiii. 32.) Syria was from ancient times occupied by the descendants of Ham and Sliem, and these people were intermingled with nomadic trdies from the East. The country at the time of Abraham, and subsequently, was divided into small king- doms, over which petty monarchs held dominion. Abraham, the patriarch whom God had selected to become the head of his chosen people and the father of the faithful, who was horn B. C. 199G, two years after the death of Noah, came at the age of seventy-five years into the good land of Canaan ; and from about 1921 before Christ, to 1706, a period of two hundred and fifteen years, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob dwelt in tents, the heirs of promise to an inheritance of the land, in which as yet they owned only a burial-place at Hebron. In our visits to be made in the future to many sacred places, we shall often come upon the grounds where their tents were pitched, and pass over the hills and valleys where their flocks found pasturage, and perchance sit down V)y the wells they dug and look upon the caves and tombs where thousands of years ago they were gathered to their fathers when the weary march was over. We shall seem to hear the lowing of their flocks and picture their lordly tread as we look upf>n some noble Arabian chief leading his vast flocks over the same pasture-lands where those of Abraham, Isaac, aiid -Jacob once were tended. On the tenth day of the first month Israel came up out of PERIOD OF THE JUDGES. 273 the waters of the Jordan and camped at Gilgal, in the plain of Jericho, north of the Dead Sea. This was April, B. C. 1451, or four hundred and seventy years after Abraham came to She- chem from Ilaran. Then followed the possession of the land by Israel, and the division of tribes, — Reuben, Gad, and half of the tribe of Manassah on the east of tlio Jordan. The division of the land was perfected by Joshua when the taber- nacle had been set up at Shiloh. Four hundred and fifty years, under the judges, the war- history of Israel stretches over the Holy Land, until under Samuel, the judge and 2)rophet, the theocracy came to an end, and about 1095 B. C., Saul was anointed king of I.s- rael. During the reign of the judges the sanctuary of the Lord abode at Shiloh. Saul, David, and Solomon, each in turn, reigned forty years, and under their dominion the country obtained its greatest si)lendor, and its highest rank among the history of all nations. The whole land was united under one dominion, and the glory of the land was as the glory of Leb- anon. Soon, however, the rlivision of the government occurred under Rehoboam, who could only lurid the southern portion of the land, while “Jeroboam, the son of Xebat, who made Israel to sin,” established his throne at Shechem. Only .Ju- dah and Benjamin remained loyal to Rehoboam. Omri after- ward removed the capital of Israel north and west eight miles from. Shechem to Samaria. The lapse of two hundred and fifty-five years baw Shalmaneser with his army subduing Is- rael, then reigned over by Hoshea, and at the end of that year, Sai-gon, son of Shalmaneser, “ king of Assyria,” carried Isx’ael away captive, never to return again to their favored land. In this short space of two hundred and fifty-five years we have the reign of nineteen kings, and the illustrious his- tory of Elijah and Elisha, who shine as lights in the dark- ness of the idolatry of the people. Zechariah the martyr, Jonah, Amos, and Hosea also shine in this period. We shall often cross the paths they trod, and look on the land- scapes and ruined cities which the times of these prophets 18 274 THE HOLY LAND. have glorified. After the captivity of Israel, the land lay a long time in desolation. People came from the East, with wanderers of the ten tribes, no doubt, and dwelt in the land ! When Jehoachin reigned over Judah, Xebuchadnezzar took the Holy City, six hundred and five years before the Christian era, and carried the vessels of the sanctuaiy to Babylon. Before twenty years more passed Zedekiah, Ezekiel, and all Judah were carried away' to bondage in Babylon. Thus when about four hundred years had passed from the death of Solo- mon, Isaiah, Joel, Micah, Jeremiah, Xahum, Ilabakkuk, Zeph- aniah, and other illustrious names on the pages of the most marvelously illumined history of the world had risen aird .shone in a splendor and beauty never to fade, though their fair land was devastated by arirries, and the holy and beau- tiful house of the Lord was made desolate and all their pleasant things laid waste. When the times of sorrow were past, in which Israel hanged their harps on the willows, and their captives wasted them and required of them mirth when they could not sing the Lord's song in a strange land, five hundred and thirty 3’ears before Christ, under Cyrus, they began to return to their own land, and brought back with them the treasures of the Lord’s house and again built the temple on Mount Moriah. Twenty years later, under the dominion of Darius, the temple was again dedicated (March, B. C. 515). In this period of cap- tivit}’ and return and subsequent history, down to four hun- dred \’ears before Christ, we have the lives of Daniel, Haggai, Zechariah, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Malachi. This covers the period of the time of Pericles, Herodotus, Xenophon, and Socrates, of Grecian fame, and the time of the republic of Rome. Under Nehemiah, Jerusalem was again rebuilt — its desolation disappeared, and its walls again rose in magnificence around the city of the great King. For nearly one hundred years, and to the death of Alexan- der, Palestine had peace and prosperity. After this time came great scenes of battle. Ptolemy brought the land under Egyptian power. Meantime, Grecian influences affected the TIMES OF CHRIST. 275 wes^tern portion of the laud and the Aramaic language began to supersede the Hebrew. The Greek language also became largely known. At the opening of the second century be- fore Christ, Antiochus endeavored to set up paganism, and pagan altars, the Greek religion, on the site of the altars of God. Then followed the reign of the Maccabean kings, and the history of terrible wars. During this period of independ- ence the temple was held to its sacred uses and the priests exercised authority. But the rising power of Rome saw with its eagle eye the east coast of the Great Sea, and Pompey, a little more than sixty years before the Christian era, con(|uered Jerusalem. Twenty years later Herod the Great, assisted by the Romans, gained possession of Palestine, and wAs soon ap- l)ointed king. He rebuilt the temple and fortified the city of Jerusalem. The ruins of many splendid buildings erected in various parts of Palestine during this period now greet the eye of the traveler on the sacred soil of this wonderful land. The Messiah .Jesus had just been born in Bethlehem, and carried by Joseph and Mary into Egypt for shelter from the rage of Herod the Great, when Herod died and the country was divided into three kingdoms. Archelaus reigned in the south, over Samaria, Judea, and Idumea; Antipas in Galilee and Persea ; and Philip, half brother of Archelaus, with his capital at Ca'sarea, reigned over the region of the Hermon. While Christ grew in favor with God and man and waxed strong in spirit, dwelling with Joseph at Nazareth, various changes were wrought, and Pilate in A. D. 26 became the Roman governor. The Jews longed for a temporal deliverer, and when Christ revealed the kingdom which is not of this world they cried, “Crucify him, crucify him I ” “Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him.” “ And when he had scourged Jesus he delivered him to be crucified.” The times of Felix, Festus, and Herod Agrippa had scarcely passed when the Zealots broke out in fury ; but in A. D. 67 Vespasian came with an army of sixty thousand and con- quered Galilee ; and three years later his son Titus (September 7th, A. D. 70,) saw Jerusalem lying in ruins and a desolation 276 THE HOLY LAND. which can not he told. The awful siege was ended. The temple lay in charred ruins. For half a century the Holy City in abandonment slept in death and ash-covered desolateness. Sixty years after the destruction of the city by Titus, the Roman Emperor Hadrian rebuilt Jerusalem, and constructed its walls anew. Nearly two hundred years later, under Con- stantine, by the aid of his mother, Helena, the sacred j^laces connected with the lifemf Christ were sought out. The whole land became Christian, and pilgrimages were made in great numbers to these sacred places. In A. D. 616, Khosroo, king of Persia, took Syria and Pal- estine from the Roman Empire, and twenty years later the Arabs, under Omar, took i)ossession of the entire country. Three hundred and thirty years later Palestine \vas con- quered by the Egyptian Fatimites. Nearly one hundred and twenty years later began the Crusades, in A. D. 1096. At dif- ferent periods the Crusaders held nearly all of the important ])laces of Syria and Palestine. We shall often meet the ruins of structures built b}' these Crusaders, and shall not unfre- <|uently he almost bewildered by tbe fatal mistakes they made in the location of sacred places. At about A. D. 1518, Selim, tbe sultan of Turkey, wrested Palestine from the power of the Mamalukes and made it a part of the Turkish empire, as it remains to this day. In A. D. 1799, as Napoleon returned from Egyj)t he captured Joppa, and subsequently fought the Turks on the plain of Esdraelon above Jezreel, defeating them and driving them beyond Nazareth. The French and English governments of late years have exerted great influence over the !Musselmen in Palestine and Syria, and it was through the French army that the persecution of the Christians by the Turks and Druses at Damascus and in the Lebanon INIount- ains, in A. D. 1860, was put to an end, but not until about fourteen thousand had perished under the reign of terror. The country is now governed by pasbas who are amenable to tbe sultan of Turkey, or the Turkish officers. Nominally, freedom is granted to all religions. In one or two districts the pasha is required to profess the Christian-Catholic religion. i^tmyra t IzEMARIT^ Hopal lascus S ^rDaa l( % E S \ Sea%f ^ Chinner(t^\ orCSSMWtoW''''''''^ o Dothan •i%tl )> Mabanaln })^cIiem^o?.Shechcm fJ\ t " MrCemim R I 2 Z I T E-|S^ qi* Ai EMieitiel icoBethe. )ShaviK ~^h'irathai\ Lui or Belbel o J E D U S I T ianrfo/ AOei-,,,*^^ SaIem(Jeru8alehr^ [.Jfiriah •°Baeh*i' •‘^'n Jiirathaim Timnath arlii oAnaki ® OazA or c, Azi.a\x Uaz^D-q taiuijV*] \ Gerai GoJiiiffruhj K I T E S |^ £n*miKhpat or Kadesh PALESTINE IN THK TmE OF THE PATRIARCHS Illustrating the Pentateuch EngliBh Milea FUkiCo. Enzs. N.T. CHAPTER II. Time to Visit Palestine — Order of Travel in the Spring and Antumn — Sojourn in Tents — Number of American Visitors to Palestine— Syria — Beyroot — Hotel de Orient — History of Beyroot — Mission-Work — Harbor — University — Printing-House — Cacti — Fountains — Scene at the Well — Eleazar-- Maidens Drawing Water — Beggars — Poor — No Hospitals for the Destitute — Christ’s Contact with the Suffering — Bartiniaeus — Shops — Preparation for the Journey — Methods of Travel — Damascus Road— Why no Roads Now — Ancient Chariots— Wagons of Joseph — Roman Roads — One Path Prepared for Pilgrims — Draw- ing for Horses — Grave of Kingsley. spring -season is usually preferred for a journey through Palestine. In March and April the grass, ^ flowers, and harvests are most abundant, and then 'the country is seen at its best. At this season of the year travelers in the orient usually visit Egvj)t first, and then enter Palestine from Jop]>a, in the southern part, and from Jerusalem go northward as the weather becomes Avarmer, passing out of the country through Syria. Many for convenience and other reasons travel in Palestine in the autumn. M'hile the country at this season is largely barren except the fields of corn, and hence more desolate in appear- ance, its features and rocks and ruins of cities are more easily seen than when vegetation is abundant. November and the early part of December is a good season to visit the Holy Land. Persons traveling there at this season reverse the order be- fore mentioned, and enter Syria first and slowly proceed south- ward, journeying like Abram of old, going southward through the land. Of course a large portion of the visitors to the Holy Land do not undertake any considerable journey through the country, but, going directly to Jerusalem, make 277 278 THE HOLY LAXD. short excursions in various directions. This is more quickly- done, and with less fatigue and danger of sickness, and -n’ith less ex])ense. The United States consul at Jerusalem told me that five hundred Americans visited Jerusalem in a single year. A very few of these saw the entire land. One of the most valuable features in an autumn visit is the fact that you have the most interesting portion of the country at the last, and the hardest toil and travel at the first. The best of the wine comes at the last of the feast. Syria was embraced in the covenant of the Lord with Abra- ham and was a part of the promise to Israel, yet it was not reck- oned in the dominion on account of the disobedience of the people. It lies directly north of Palestine, on the coast of the Mediterranean. Before noon on the twenty-sixth of Xovem- ber our feet had rested on the streets of the beautiful city. Bey- root, and our eyes were greeted with many surprising scenes. We were lodged at the Hotel de Orient, the rooms of which are large, with ceilings nearly tAventy feet high. Beyroot is not mentioned in the Bible, but from Strabo, Avho mentions the city B. C. 140, and other sources Ave learn that it Avas at that time a city of importance. It had an illustrious history down to the time of Justinian, about A. 1). 5.50. In A. D. 551 it AA*as largely destroyed by an earthquake. Under the Moslems it sunk into insignificance. Much of its histoiy is in obscurity. It is now a splendid city Avith nearly one hundred thousand people. Many of its houses and streets have an American or European appearance, AA'hile ])ortions of its pojmlation and streets are strikingly oriental. Two thirds of the jDeople are Christian. Beyroot is the great sea-port of Syria. At this point missionary Avork has been conducted successfully by the Presbyterian and Congregational churches for OA'er half a cen- tury. The work done in this time has borne precious fruit. So mucb of the influence of this toil prevails that the place has a resemblance to an English toAAm. The vioAA- atforded of the sea is delightful; and the best harbor is here seen that is to be found on the Syrian coast. This is the great trading- port for Damascus and all Syria. The commerce and educa- HISTORY OF BEYROOT. 279 tional and religious features of the cit}' make it a praise in the earth. The American mission, first founded in 1820, opened a new era. Bey root is the center of the entire educational system of the American missionaries. The Syrian Protestant college has a splendid location, overlooking the sea, and buildings and grounds worth over two hundred thousand dollars. About one hundred and thirty students were in attendance when I visited it. They were a fine-looking class of j’oung men. It has become the center of a mighty force in Palestine and Syria. In these countries there are now two hundred and forty Protestant schools, with thirteen thou-sand children in them. There are over one hundred American and European teachers and preachers and over four hundred native laborers in the Master's vineyard. The college has full scientific, med- ical, and other dejiartments. In a large measure tlie sjiirit of education has taken hold of the entire jieople. There are good schools for girls; and a Christian life is enlarging its power here. Among the most interesting and important in- stitutions here is the publishing house of the same society. It issues weekly as well as monthly periodicals, in the Arabic language. On the same lot they have an excellent church, the services of which are largely attended. Close by is the* best-arranged Sabbath-school chapel I have ever seen. It was erected at the expense of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dale, of Orange, New York, as a memorial to a deceased little son, Gerald F. Dale. The plan was arranged by Dr. Jessup, who had charge of the work. We were most kindly greeted by this veteran and faithful missionary here. Dr. Van Dyke, and others. In all the educational work of this country the English language forms the basis, while the other languages are taught. This opens English literature, thought, and enterprise to the stu- dents. The city is in telegraphic communication with En- gland and America. Beyroot is a pleasant introduction to a sojourn in the Holy Land. Still, one recognizes at once the strange and unusual appearance of all about him. Great cactuses, growing up to a height of ten feet, form powerful hedges and fences in Beyroot, 280 THE HOLY LAXD. being found as well all through Palestine. The streets jjresent a striking picture. Camels, donkeys, and women are the bearers of burdens. Xo wagon or Awdricle of any kind greets the eye. The fountains along the streets or under the hills are crowded by poorly-dressed women with their great earthen jugs or jars. Tliey fill them and lift them to tlieir shoulders or heads and carry tlieni away. Here at a fountain camels are waiting for water to be drawn, while women as in the time of Abraham perform their service at the well. I was at once reminded of the prayer of Eleazar, the faithful and devout servant of Abraham, when he sought a wife for Isaac. “He made his camels to kneel down without the city by a well of water at the time of the evening, even the time that Avomen go out to draAV Avater” (Genesis xxiv. 10); and he prayed, “Behold, I stand here by the Avell of Avater; and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw Avater : and let it come to pass, that the damsel to Avhoni I shall say. Let doAvn thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink ; and she shall say. Drink, and I Avill give thy camels drink also : let the same be she that thou hast appointed for tliy servant Isaac.’’ (^Genesis xxiA’. lo, 14.) As Ave slowly ascended the hill going toAvard the college, and the AVum- en came out for Ava- tcr, there Avas at once an illustration of AAdrat is said in the story ot Saul in search of his father's asses — “As they Avent up in the ascent of the city, they found young maidens going out to draAA' water.” (T. Sam- FooiSiAiN by the way -side. uel ix. 11.) These fountains are hailed Avith delight in all parts of the land. We .shall Irave occasion to sit down by them again often in our journey. PREPARATION FOR THE JOURNEY. 281 The streets of Beyroot, like those of every town in Pales- tine and Syria, are thronged with beggars. We had gone but a little Avay from our hotel into the city when we were met by several blind beggars who sat by the way-side. It has always been so. There are no hospitals for the afflicted and blind, and no system of charities for the i)oor. Now, as in the Savior’s time, Bartima'us sits by the highway-side, beg- ging (Mark x. 46); but -alas, there is none to .say, “Go thj’ way, thy faith hath made thee whole.” (Mark x. 52.) The facts just stated explain how it was that Christ came so largely in contact with the blind, and maimed, and poor, and the lepers. How they must have thronged him ! His love and healing attracted them to him wherever he went. The first half day in the streets of this city thronged with the blind and maimed and poor put a new comment upon the ministry of Christ, “ who went about doing good.” Small shojos are kept by women as well as by men. They sell oranges, grapes, figs, and sugar-cam'. Many of the poor people ajipear to live on raw sugar-cane. A lad buys a stalk and carries it with him, gnawing away at it now and then till it is all gone. The houses in their entire construction, with their flat roofs, presented to my ('yes a strange ai^pearance. Of these I shall say more when more extended observations bave been made. My stay in Beyroot was short, being only one day and night. There are few ruins and no iflaces of biblical anticj- uity, and our arrangements for the journey were to be com- pleted. A half day was spent in looking up places of inter- est, and making some purchases. That night — until far in the night — several of the company toiled hard with linen cloth, needle, and thread, preparing, fitting, and sewing up the nicest and m'atest things for the head one could well fancy, as a protection against the hot, burning rays of the sun. What I made was a compromise between a veil and an irmbrella. What would some good wives have said could they have seen Dr. Fry, Dr. Thompson, and the writer meas- uring, fitting, cutting, and making these head-dresses? We 282 THE HOLY LAND. Leat even the Arabs. Be it remembered that during the middle of the day the thermometer is up to about ninety degrees. Then there were other preparations for travel to be made. Shall we pack trunks and get ready to take the cars? Not so. There are no cars in Palestine or Syria! 'I'hen we shall go by the stage coach ? Not so. There are no coaches or wagons in Palestine for general use in traveling. There are, with two exce])tions, even no roads in Palestine ! There is one splendid i)ike from Bey root to Damascus, — a distance of seventy-two miles. It was made by a French company about twenty years ago. The company run a JilUjence to Damascus daily, making the trip in thirteen hours. It also owns and runs transportation-w'agons from Beyroot to Damascus, which carry freight as do cars in otlier countries. This road crosses both the Lebanon and anti-Lebanon mountains Another like road for wagons connects betvv'een Jo})j)a and Jerusalem. Of course the country was not always destitute of roads. And here w’e have suddenly come U})on one of the examples of the great decline of the country. When .Tacob, sorrowing over tbe I0.SS of Josepli, and Simeon, and Benjamin, heard the story of the reigning of his beloved son Joseph amid the abundance of corn in Egypt, he believed it not until he saw the wagons which .Joseph hail sent to carry him down into Egypt. (Gen- esis xlv. 27.) A number of years after, wlien Jo!ie])h carried the embalmed body of Jacob to Hebron to 1)6 buried with Abraham and Isaac, there went up with him both chariots and horsemen.” (Gen. 1. 9.) When Deborah, that pro2:)hetess of God, was roused up four hundred years later to lead Israel to battle against Sisera, she was mot ]>y over nine hundred chariots of iron. (.Judges iv. 13.) Thirteen centuries later we read of Philip the evangelist being directed by the Spirit to go and join himself to the chariot of the Ethiopian who was returning to his own country from Jerusalem. (Acts viii. 29.) Here and there are yet to be seen traces of old Roman high- ways over which the Savior passed in the days of his pil- grimage on earth. But with the coufpiest of the land by the DR A WIXG FOR HORSES. 283 Turks, the camel and donkey took tlie ])lace of wagons and chariots, and for a thousand years no attention has been paid to the roads. They climb over rocks and stones, and above precipices, and down deep defiles generation after generation, without even amending a place or picking up a stone. The only laboring at roads I sa-w in Palestine was a few men pre- paring -a path down a steep deelivity to the brook Cherith, so that the holy pilgrims from Jerusalem to Bethabara, passing under the shades of the Quarantine mountains, might turn aside to the traditional shelter of the old Prophet Elijah, where God sent him food in the morning and at night, in the time of famine. , Thus it is that traveling in the Holy Land must now be done on foot or on horsebaek, or on donkeys or camels. We chose horses, which are usually preferred. After lunch on Thursday our company was called into the yard adjoining the hotel to draw for horses. This was a matter of consid- erable importance, inasmuch as it involved thirty days in the saddle, — often over jnecipitous mountain-paths. The num- bers w'ere put on little slips of paper, which were put into a little sack. The horses were al.«o numbered. The number drawn directed the drawee to his horse. I drew last, and drew “No. 1.” So it is that “there are last that shall be first.” There was a hasty trial of the horses drawn, and some exchanging was done. An amusing incident — but one which might have been serious — greeted us at the be- ginning. Dr. Fry had not been in the saddle two minutes until he was thrown from it with force, but without receiv- ing any injury. It was hardly to be attributed to bad horse- manship, since he was for years an itinerant; and then his skill subsequently proved equal to any emergency. Our horses were native Syrian — about one third smaller than the average American saddle-horse. The horses were not gaited wdth care, but walked well ; and I found mine a good loper. They are fleet and marvelously active in climbing over dangerous and rocky passes. They were shod with a shoe which covered the entire bottom of the foot. The one the 284 THE HOLY LAXD. writer rode never grew tired, but was always ready for any speed, no matter how steej) or rough the way. During my stay in Beyroot I visited tlie Protestant ceme- teiw, where Bishop Kingsley, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, sleeps the last long sleep. His tomb is marked by a l)lain gray-granite monument, about six feet square at the base and about eighteen feet high. It bears the foiloAving inscription : REV. CALVIN KINGSLEY, D. D,, Bishop of the METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH. Born in the State of New York, U. S. of America, September 8th, 1812. Died in Beyroot, Sj'ria, April 6th, 1870, AVhile making for his Church the First Episcopal Tour of the Globe. May his Tomb unite more closely Asia and America. On the reverse side is the following : ERECTED as a tribute of affection and esteem by order of the GENERAL CONFERENCE of the ■ METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH. His grave is a sacred spot. It will be remembered that his death Avas sudden, — from heart-disease, — and occasioned great sorroAv. Visitors, here, of all religious denominations, drop an affectionate and tender tear over the lone tomb. I believe it has never been publicly stated in America that two persons Avere killed by the falling of the base of the monument at the time of its erection. CHAPTER III. Leaving Beyroot — Loading the Beasts — Our Company — Modes of Ac- commodation— Dragoman — Crossing the Valiey — Pines — Palms — Sj’camore-Tree — Vineyards — Lebanon Mountain — Ascending the Lebanon — Desolateuess — Traveling Family — Outlook from Leba- non — Lofty Peaks — View of Hermon — Ancient Glory of Lebanon — Cedars — Toward our Tents. RIDAY morning, October 28th, by 7:30, our com- 2i;iny moved off from the liotel for the crossing of Mount Lebanon. It was a strange scene. Our tents f^and tent-equi[)age had preccfled us oiu^ day. Valises, bun- j >dles, etc., were jxicked in great sacks and j'ut on the backs i of mules. Horses and mules kicked and fought. Our mule- teers jabbered and quarreled, carrying on the wildest gesticu- lation, the most striking being the shooting of the hand and arm directly upward. Beggars stood around calling for “barJc- shish,” while manj’’ others were on hand with jiretzels and fruits for sale. Mr. Alexander Howard, under whose direc- tion the comiiany was organized, aj)i)eared suddenly in the midst of the scene. He is a stout-built native Syrian, who sjieaks English and other languages fluently. His voice soon brought order out of confusion. He s^ioke shaiq)ly to some and cut others with a whij). Such loads I never saw put upon beasts. The mules and donkeys were loaded so heavily that they could offer no resistance, and were driven off without bridle or halter. I thought of the dying patriarch’s prophecy, when he said, “Issachar is a strong ass couching down be- tween two burdens.” (Genesis xlix. 14.) I must introduce the reader to our company : First, there were twelve tourists (names on page two hundred and five), besides a conductor from London, Mr. Howard, the superin- 285 286 THE HOLY LAND. tendent, an aid-de-camp, (the last two were with ns occa- sionall}" throughout the trip,) a dragoman, luncheon-steward, two waiters, two cooks for regular meals and five servants, and twelve muleteers, — thirtj^-eight in all. We had sixteen horses, seventeen mules, and six donkeys. We had five lodg- ing-tents, one saloon or eating-tent, one kitchen, and two other small tents. It was an imposing company to look uj^on. In traveling through Palestine, some prefer to depend upon the convents and houses'which can be secured in the towns for places of lodging. Traveling in this manner persons go- ing to a town for lodging call upon the sheik of the town, who for a stipulated sum secures a house from .some family who A'acates it for the night, when it is cleansed and washed out and made ready for occupancy. The preferable mode of travel is to carry tents and equipage with you. These are se- cured at Beyroot or at Joppa. A dragoman is not only a guide and superintendent, hut an interpreter as well. It is said that the word “dragoman” is derived from the Chaldaic targum, — to explain. The Arabic “ tergem” means to inteiqwet. Originally in Egypt dragomen were simply interpreters, and for this they were specially edu- cated. Their history dates back far beyond the Christian era. While under the general direction of i\Ir. Howard, who met us at different points, a special dragoman, INlr. Ralph Leigh- ton, attended our company the entire route through the land. He made our contracts, did our fighting, — and did it well several times, — and proved himself worthy of our confidence. He is a native-born American, but has been a resident of Pal- estine from childhood. Next to him were Joseph, an honor- able old Turk, and George, a manly Greek, who were onr cooks. These two and another .loseph proved attentive to our wants the entire journey, and we were sorry to leave them when our sojourn in tents was ended. Our first object was to reach Baalbec, the ancient capital of northern Syria. Passing out the winding streets of Beyroot, we soon entered a fertile and beautiful plain several miles wide. On every hand were fig-trees, green and beautiful. SYCAMORE-TREE. 2S7 2)alni-trees, and vineyards. Before us rose in majesty the tremendous form of tlie Lebanon Mountain, so sacred in ancient times; and somehow there crejjt over my heart a feel- ing of reverence, which came unsought. Turning my eye from the fertile valh'y, ami stately ^'^i-hns, and orchards of vines and figs,, and groves of jiine and oranges and lemons, it rested ujwni the giant form of a great tree, standing alone hy the side of the narrow road, the hranclies of which, jiroject- ing almost horizontally, stretched far over the road. 'What tree is this, the houghs of which stretch out from the trunk close to the earth and almost touch our heads as we ride along the way ? It is a sycamore. I see now why Zaccheus climljed into a syc- amore-tree to see Jesus, a long time ago, as he was passing through Jericho. (Luke xix. 4.) It is exceedingly easy to climb, and its branches, reaching directly over the road, would give him the best 2)ossible view of the 2)assing Christ. Here and there in the valley the eye rests u^jon the carob-tree, which is one of the most common in Palestine. It does not abound in groves, but grows singly and lu.xuriantly in various j)arts of the country. In the jdain about Beyroot, on Mount Olives, and in various jdaces it attains good size. As a sbade-tree it is 2)robably the best in the land, liaving a thick foliage. It bears a fruit like a bean. The 2>ods are green and soft, and from five to six inches long. The kernel is small. The entire hull when dried contains a small amount of sub- stance, and is of a sweetish taste. The fruit is abundant in the markets in Palestine and in Egyjjt. Some of the j)oorest of the j)Cf>ple eat it, though it is the food for beasts. The carob- tree is only once mentioned in the Bible, and then in the most touching jiarahle ever uttered by the lips of Jesus, — that of the prodigal son. These pods are the “ husks that the swine did eat.” with which the poor j^rodigal would fain have satisfied his gnawing h\inger. (Luke xv. 16.) The original Hebrew word is carob-pod. Our illustration is a very truth- ful representation, both of the tree and the fruit with which the poor wandering prodigal “ would fain have filled his belly.” 288 THE HOLY LAND. CAROB-TBEE AND PODS. As the sun rose higher above the crests of Lebanon and stood far southward, we began slowly to climb the winding way up the steeps of the mountain. As we left the vallej*, the fruitful fields by the road-side were changed for utter barren- ness. Here and there in the narrow valleys, or ‘‘wadies,” as they are called, there are places where the vine.s and trees are green ; but all the mountain is barren. There is not a tree or shrub to be seen over all tliese parts of Lebanon. The soil is red and mixed with chi}', and looks as though it would pro- duce well if it had rains. It was being prepared for seeding. Soon as the early rains fall the entire mountain, except where quite too rocky, is sown in wheat. By twelve o’clock our lunch-steward halted us on the top of the mountain, seventeen miles from Beyroot, at “ Khan Sofar,” where there is a fine spring, and where we took lunch. A khan is a small house with a shed or two, all for the accom- OUTLOOK FROM IjEBANON. 289 moclation of man and l)oast in traveling; and men and beasts can choose places. But we had a good lunch, and eat heartily. There were crowds of natives who had stoj)ped to Avater their camels and donkeys; and company after company of travelers came in sight, who Avere going from Damascus to Beyroot. One eom})any attracting my attention Avas a fam- ily Avhich came up to get Avater. It consisted of a father and mother and a goodly number of children. A family of chil- dren rode on a small donkey. On either side of the donkey was a wooden box, similar to a bee-hive, sAvung over the ani- mal by a rope. In these boxes Avere several children, Avhile two Avere mounted on the hack of the gentle animal. The mother seemed evidently pleased at the notice taken of her children, and smiled gracefully at us, talking a little English. The vieAV from the summit of Lebanon is one never to be forgotten. All about us Avere the ranges and peaks, and heloAV us the Avadies of Lebanon, Avhile far off to the Avest, in full view, lay the Mediterranean, Avhich seemed in the distance to rise like a blue mountain to the clouds, fading out into the sky. On the shore in full sight Avas tlie city of Beyroot, Avhile all along the coast lay the fertile and beautiful plain. The entire passage of the Lebanon Avas a romance. Soutlnvard and to our right Avas the peak Jebel el Baruk, and on the left Jebel Keneiseh, the latter rising six thousand six hun- dred and sixty feet ahoA’e the sea, and the former nearly as high. The road is almost six thousand feet above the Medi- terranean, still in sight. We had only time to Avonder at the clouds Avhich flitted by us and enshrouded us in tAvilight at noonday, Avhen behold, our eyes caught far off to the front the long anti-Lebanon mountain ranges, Avith the southern terminus rising into the lofty Ilermon. Hermon means de- struction; and tlie name may tell something of the bar- renness Avhicli may he observed Avhen passing nearer to it. From Lebanon it is a grand sight. Its rocky crest adorned Avith snoAV and ice pointing to the heavens, fixes the eye and draAvs out the heart in Avonder and admiration. Stand- ing for the first time in full view of the lofty sentinel betAveen 19 290 THE HOLY LASD. Syria and Palestine, surrounded by the bare peaks of the Leb- anon once crowned with tall cedars, I felt that my heart was experiimcing emotions kindred to the feelings of those who thousands of years ago gathered materials here for the build- ing of the holy temple of the Lord, on Mount INIoriah ! Here and there on the top of Lebanon are great snow-houses cut dee]) in the rocks, prepared for packing snow in the winter to be used in the summer as ice in adjacent cities. The snow of Lebanon is alluded to by Jeremiah, who wrote almost twenty -five centuries ago, “"Will a man leave the snow of Lebanon which cometh from the rock of the field.”' (Jeremiah xviii. 14.) The melting snows of Lebanon in those days watered the fields below them just as they do now, and it would be foolish for a man to leave his farm thus watered for a barren rocky field Avhere there was no Avater. But these lofty ranges of the Lebanon have seen a grander day! They Avere once coA'ered Avith cedars and goodly trees of all kinds. Xoav they are barren, as they haA’e been for centuries. Three thousand years ago these toAvering slopes resounded Avith the noise of the laborer lieAving cedar for the holy temple at Jerusalem. Hiram, the king of this country, had a league Avith Solomon to furnish cedar and fir trees, as well as food for the laborers of Solomon Avhile they hcAved the timber. (I. Kings a’. 9.) “And King Solomon raised a levy out of all Israel j and tbe leA-y Avas thirty thou.«and men. And he sent them to Lebanon, ten thousand a month by courses : a month they were in Lebanon, and tAvo months at home: and Adoniram Avas over the leA’y. And Solomon had three- score and ten thousand tliat bare burdens, and fourscore thou- sand hcAvers in the mountains; besides the chief of Solomon’s officers Avhich Avere OA'er the Avork, three thousand and three hundred, Avhich ruled oA’er the people that Avrought in the work.” (I. Kings v. 13-16.) Thus long ago did this mountain contribute to the holy house of the Lord on Moriah. So highly honored Avas the wood of Lebanon that Solomon made himself a chariot, or a bed, of Lebanon Avood. (Solomon’s Song iii. 9.) Tu tbe time of Isaiah this mountain must have CEDARS. 291 been covered with wood; for when he ^vi^^lled to jirosent the greatness of tin* great (lod he exclaims, “Lelianon is not suffi- cient to burn, nor tlie beasts then'of suflieient for a burnt- otfering.” (Isaiah xl. IG.) And how beautifully tlu^ ])salmist })resents the prosperity of the righteous when he sa3’s, “ He shall grow like a eedar in Lebanon.’’ (Psalms xoii. 12.) CEDAR OF LEBANON. XearU' a day’s journev farther north along the Lebanoa there are large groves of these famous cedars remaining. One grove contains three hundred and fiftv trees grouped closely together. Thej' are far up the mountain, at an altitude of over 292 THE HOT.Y LAND. six thousand feet above the ^lediterranean Sea. The trees are not over eighty feet high, but jiossess heavy trunks. Dr. McCtarvey speaks of them as follows : “ At a distance of two or three miles they appear not much larger than evergreens in a gentleman’s yard. But as you api)roach them tliey grow upon you, and by the time you liave fairly entered the grove you begin to realize their magnitude. None of them is less, I suppose, than one hundred years old, and many of them are of an age that can not he-estimatcd with any approach to ex- actness. Most of them are from one to three feet in thickness, but there are nine which are so much larger and so nearly one size that they evidently belong to a very distinct period. We measured seven of these and found the smallest twenty feet six inches in circumference, while the largest was thirty- eight feet and two inches. These old trees have branches near the ground, and their tops have a low-sjweading growth, while the trunks of those much younger grow straight and tall. A stone chaj)cl of the Greek church stands in the midst of the grove, and in a little dei)ression near by is a hut in which lives a native whose business it is to guard the trees against injury.” (“Lands of the Bible,” page 568.) Tlie glory of Lebanon has not wholly departed. Its place in sacred poetry and history can never he destroyed. The might)- guardian of the western coast of Syria, the sister sen- tinel with llermon, is the first to greet the eye of the distant mariner, and even from the loftier peaks of Cyprus its brow, much of the year crested with snow, is visible ! It is a grand sight, beheld from whatever point it may he looked upon. Slowly and thoughtfully I rode down its eastern slope by the winding way. Before the eye spreads out the broad Coele- Svrian valley, beyond which lifts the anti-Lebanon ranges crowned with the majestic Hermon. But all at once as we looked to the valley below to a cluster of - green trees about a a stream of water which gurgles and ripples and tumbles down the steeps of Lebanon, we saw our white tents awaiting our arrival ! Tired and hungry, we hastened down the mountain two or three miles to our first lodging in the tents. * CHAPTER IV. First Night in Camp — Shtora — Heat and Cold — Caravans — Riding — Diligence — Valley of Coele-Syria — Litany — Fields — View of Leb- anon— Thrashing-Floor — Druses — Vineyards — Streams of Water — Landmarks — Baalbec — Ruins — History — Haal Worship — Wells — Plateau — Great Stones — How Handled — Stone in Quarry — Entrance to Acropolis — An Incident — Tunnels — Temple of Jupiter — Temple of the Sun — Sabbath Services in Temple of tlie Sun. HE first night in camp gave me a new experience. At tlte first I entertained some fear. Our camp was at Shtora, at the base of Lebanon, and on the west 'side of the Cmle-Syrian valley. I was especially interested to know what provisions were in camp for our journey. Our tents were comfortable, and of fancy colors and orna- mentation, while the American flag floated from the top of four of them,* and the English flag waved over two of them. A dinner quite well prepared was relished immediately after so long a ride in the saddle. Oh, how hungry I was. Then as never before I realized the truthfulness of the old adage, “hunger makes a good cook.” I found that besides tents, we were comfortably provided with a dinner- table, chairs or camp-sto(»ls, small stands for the tent, narrow single iron bedsteads which folded up, mattress-beds, candles, tin basins, and bowls, for tent use. Indeed, we were well equipped. All these things, including a peculiar cooking-stove, were carried on the backs of mules and donkeys. These creatures about the camp kept up at times such a noise that it was difficult to sleep. Just as I was fairly down to writing in my tent at Shtora, preparing my daily sketches, and others were trying to sleep, unearthlv bravings broke out in the camp. Dr. 203 294 THE HOLY LAXf). Thomp^^on from the tent -door called jocularly to one of the men who was on guard, that something was the matter Avith the donkey. One of the Arab muleteers came up and patted the donkey loA’ingly and stammered out a feAA' English wrnrds like the folloAA'ing: “Good donkey! My donkey to Yerusa- lem and Yaffil! ” By and by all became used to this manner of life. The evenings and nights and mornings Avere cool, inso- much that I found good use for my English shaAvl. About six hours of the day the Avind came from the east, and it Avas extremely hot. One almost burns up under the A'ertical rays of the Syrian sun._ There Avere no clouds to dim its splendor or reduce its jioAver. ToAvard four o'clock the Avind Avould change and come from the sea, and then it Avould become quite cool. This change of the Avind occurred almost if not quite every day of our journey in Palestine. It Avas Avith nervous emotion that I aro.se from the first night’s attempt at sleep in camp at the ringing of a hand-bell and the strange call of Josej)h as he draivled out in his kindly AA'ay, “ First bell, gentlemen ! ’’ Everything Avas safe, — men, camp, horses, donkeys, Arabs, and all! I found that in keep- ing the horses the Arabs had driven iron pins in the ground and stretched ropes parallel to each other at a distance of fifteen or more feet apart. • To one of these ropes t/hej' hitched, by means of a halter, the head of the beast, and then tied one of the hind legs to the long rope running along behind him. In this Avay they kept the horses close together, and from dan- ger of injuring one another. When our company prepared for the second day’s travel, it Avas very appreciable that they had been horseback riding. It Avas a sore trial to start again. But the dragoman bleAV his horn, and Joseph called out, “ Horseback, ger^tlemen ! ” and moved off like an engine on a donkey ! All fell in line, sore as the trial Avas. On the road Ave met carai^an after caraA^an of camels and donkeys, loaded Avith all kinds of produce from Damascus. Probably not less than tAvo hundred or tAvo hundred and fifty VALLFA’ OF CCELE-SYRIA. 295 camels, and as many or more donkeys, were met in a day. I never saw a country where the dress of men and women is so nearly alike. It is often difficult to tell the one from the other. Then it was wonderful to see_ how the people travel on these donkeys. One day I saw a huge man and woman riding one of these creatures scarcely over two and a half feet high or three feet long ; also, two large, hearty, and })oorly-dressed women riding astride one of these same little creatures, as happy as a lady in a phaeton in America! On our way crossing Lebanon we met the diligence, or stage ninning from Damascus to Beyroot. It is drawn by six horses, working three abreast, the horse to the right being fastened to the side of the stage to pull what he pleases. A large train of wagons was met, loaded with produce from Da- mascus, to each of which three mules were hitched in the same manner. These wagons carry produce for rates as do our rail-. Avays in America. The great trains of camels and donkeys do not travel on the pike, but follow the old road over rocks and above precipices, and up and down rough, steep mount- ain-sides to avoid the j^ayment of toll. Between the Leba- non and ’anti-Lebanon mountains lies the beautiful valley of Coele-Syria (hollow Syria). It is now usually called Bekaa. The Amlley is not less than twelve miles wide at many places, and is watered by the Litany, or Leontes, from Avhich much of the valley is irrigated so as to be very productive; yet there is no doubt that in ancient times it was vastly more produc- tive than at present. The Litany flows southward, winding through the valley. Our second day’s travel was made north- Avard along the Auilley at the base of the Lebanon mountain. After leaving the* Damascus road aa'c found the Avay, eA^en up the Amlley, unsuited to any A'ehicle whateA^er. This course gave us a grand, vieAA' of the mountains. There is something indescribably grand about this Lebanon, even in its barren- ness. EA'ery feiv miles fountains break forth from the mount- ain far up its slope and course their way down through the valley toAvard the Litany. Toward the base of the mountain by these streams there is ahvays to be found a town. 296 THE HOLY LAND. Along the streams are fields which are cultivated. Some were preparing for wheat, while in others the corn was just being gathered and thrashed out as in the time of David. At one place I saw not less than fifty men and women with sticks and clubs thrashing the corn off the cobs on a thrash- ing-floor, which is nothing more than a nice, well-prepared, level jjiece of land, or a great fiat rock. To piecisely such a jdace did David come Avhen for Ids sin in numbering Israel seventy thousand men fell by pestilence ; for the angel of the Lord stood by the thrashing-floor of Oman (or Araunah) as David lifted up his eyes. And upon the thrashing-floor of Oman, David set up an altar to the Lord. The spot afterward became the site of the temple built by Solomon. (See I. Chronicles xxi. 14-30; xxii. 1.) I saw many of these thrash- ing-floors in Syria and Pale.stine. The southern parts of Lebanon and the anti -Lebanon mountains are occupied by the Druses, one of the strangest of all the people of the Holy Land. They are cruel to their enemies, but are spoken of as sober and temperate, despising the use of whisky, rum, and tobacco. Their religion is a strange mixture of Christianity, Mohammedanism, and pa- ganism. Strangers visiting among them are treated in patri- archal style. They do not allow polygamy, and their religious services are a kind of social, political, religious performance, conducted by the sheik in secret — no one being allowed to witness them except the initiated. They maintain an inde- pendent government, and number about one hundred thou- sand. They are of Caucasian descent, intermingled with various tribes, and have maintained their peculiar existence as a people for nearly twelve hundred j’ears. Their complex- ion is almost white, with ruddy cheeks. All day long under the broiling Syrian sun our horses crept along the beautiful Coele- Syrian valley between the Leb- anon and anti -Lebanon mountains, whose white limestone forms, broken here and there by deep ravines, were patched on their summits with ice and snow. Most of the way up the valley was made over a mere caravan road, though with a STREAMS OF WATER. 297 little labor it could be made (juite j)assable for carriages. Now and then a large vineyard extended down to the edge of the road, and a temporary booth stood in the vineyard to shelter a watchman. Far away along the streams gushing from the mountains, .stood in full view peasant villages sur- rounded with orchards of oranges, carohs, lemons, and walnuts. All along these stn'ams of water the trees grow luxuriant beyond description, load- ed with richest golden fruits and dressed in the most perfect foli- age. And in this did the psalmist fi n d his most beautiful figure with which to de^ scribe the felici- tous condition of the righteous. “He shall he like a tree planted by the rivers [run- ning streams, or channels] of wa- ter that hringeth forth his fruit in his season ; his leaf also shall not wither.” (Psalms i. 3.) So I found the trees of Palestine in November, all along the streams. They were fresh and green and flourishing as in midsummer, surrounded by the dry, barren fields, while their fruits burdened the branches. M4.P OP PALESTINE. 298 THE HOLY LAND. There are no fences in Palestine, and the people all live in villages. The lands are divided by stones, or landmarks, which in man}' places have stood from time immemorial. It was to these that the Lord referred when he gave command- ment by Moses more than thirty-three centuries ago saj’ing, “ Thou shalt not remove thy neighbor's landmark which they of old time have set in thine inheritance.” (Deuter- onomy xix. 14.) Yet there is no doubt that even now it is true, as Job said, “ Some remove the landmarks ” (-Job xxiv. 2), and there rests the curse of God, even as he said, “Cursed be he that removeth his neighbor’s landmark.” (Deuteron- omy xxvii. 17.) As the sun began to sink toward Lebanon, we crossed the valley and hastened toward Baalbec, the ancient capital of Syria, where it had been arranged for us to spend the Sab- bath. I reined up my pony and found that he was ready for the chase. After examining some ruins by the way, we hastened to the town and at once proceeded to explore the most wonderful ruins of heathen antiquity. I had read a number of descriptions of Baalbec, but had no adequate conception of the bewildering, overawing, and .subduing ruins which were to be gazed upon. Our stay was too short to enable any one to fully comprehend the vast structure. This would require Aveeks of close attention. Yor is it possible to ever perfectly accomplish this. The structure evidently belongs to periods stretching over thousands of years, and embracing very dif- ferent designs. Taken as a Avhole, there are no ruins on the globe which are to be compared Avith these ! As in the soft moonlight one stands beneath the six enormous columns of the great teniiJe, sixty feet high, surmounted Avith the lofty carA'ed architrave seA’enteen feet thick he dwindles to an in- fant and feels as if the mysterious shadows of eternities were hoA'ering OA'er him ! Dr. Thompson argues that Baalbec is the Baal -gad men- tioned in Joshua xi. 17 and xiii. 5, though Dr. Robinson belieA’es Baal-gad to Iuia'c been at Banias or Caesarea Philippi. Doubtless tbe former vieAV is the correct one. Others hold it BAAL- WORSHIP. 299 to bo the “Avon” — Bikuth Avon — mentioned in Amos i. 5. Aven is given in the Septuagent as On — the name evidently by 'wliich Greek writers sp(‘ak of it. Some have held that it is the Baalath mentioned in I. Kings ix. 17, 18, as being built by Solomon. This is hardly probable, though the Arabs hold the tradition that Solomon built the ancient Baalbec. Strabo, Josephus, Pliny, and Ptolemy speak of it under the name lIeliopoli.s, — City of the Sun. From the time of Solomon, Baalbec was the head of Baal-worship, and the seat of a pow- erful idolatrous religion. The wonderful structures which yet defy the ravages of time were no doubt rivals of the splen- did tenijde built by Solomon on Mount Moriah. The history of the jdace is exceedingly obscure. The splen- did ruins which now are looked upon Avith such wonder were built uj)on foundations prepared for other structures ages before, and the stones Avhich now lie in silent maj- esty in the higher parts of the walls once n'sted in other positions. This is no doubt the Heliopolis mentioned by Grecian and Roman hi.storians. From the in.scri])tion on an- cient coin it is shoAvn that there Avas a Roman colony here in the second century of our ei’a. It is asserted that Antoninus Pius erected the Temple of Jupiter. There is no doubt that this place has been the scene of great struggles and persecu- tion ; for here in the fourth century Theodosius caused the erection of a Christian church, the bare foundation of Avhicb yet exists. When Ave consider the history of idolatry as far as it incidentally appears in the scripture recorded Avith Avhat is here to be seen, it is hardly possible to believe that Avritten hi.story at all touches MEDALS OF BAAL. the real history of this place. Nearly one thousand years before Christ the Avorship of Baal, Avhich Avas identical Avith the Avorshiji of the sun, stole doAvn from the north as Avell as from the east upon Israel under the king.s. Israel lying north of .Judah soonest and most 300 THE HOLY LAND. sadly fell tlie victim of idolatry from contact with its neigh- bors. At that early j)eriod Baal-worship must have had in some portion of this northern -country a center of influence and power. Whoever walks about the Acropolis at Baalbec will be made to think that he is at that center. Portions of the structures, the ruins of which are here .so well j^reserved, no doubt were erected by the Romans in the second centurv. But there are evidences that other j^arts are of much greater antiquity. The sul)struction, or wall surrounding the Acropolis, on which were built the ancient temples, is itself in some re- spects more wonderful than the pyramids of Egypt. This elevated inchjsnre is nearly one thousand feet long from east to west, and six hundred feet broad. This great ])latform of masonry varies from fifteen to thirty feet in height. At the east once stood a magnificent flight of steps entering into this elevation through a portico one hundred and forty feet long. The whole jdateau is surrounded by a wall much higher than the level within, so that the wall on the outside is almost sixty feet high. This massive structure is composed of dressed stone, laid without mortar, Avhieh range from twelve to thirty feet in length, and nine feet broad and six feet thick. In the west end of this wall lie three stones, probably the largest ever placed in any structure by the hand of man. They lie in the wall at the height of about twenty feet from the ground ; and lying end to end against each other they measure, one stone sixty-two feet long, another sixty-three feet and a half, and another si.xty-four feet long, all thirteen feet high and jirobably more than that in thickness. How these ponderous blocks of stone were quarried and put into position in the Avail ivill j)robably forever remain a mystery. From anything the world now knoivs of the use of mechanical powers in the past ages or at the present, it ap^iears almost a miracle. But no matter how or by whom placed in their po- sitions, there they lie in their ponderous weight. It seems probable that their history goes back more tlian a thousand years before Christ, probably to the time of the erection of the STOXE IX THE QUARRY. 301 pyramids or the Kgy})tiuii obelisks. They are dressed at the edges Avith such precision that it is exceedingly difficult to tell Avhere the joints really are. Though they have lain there thousands of years, upon climbing uj) to them I found it im- possible at any place to insert even the shar{)e.st point of a pocket-knife in tlu' joints where they join each other. These stones were quarried a distance of half a mile and by some moans removed to their })resent resting-place. Any one of these three stones would weigh over a thousand tons. A recent writer has supposed that a road Avas constructed on a level from the quarry to their place in the Avail, and the stones placed on rollers and pulled by men by a great rope. If tAventy men could pull a stone Aveighing one ton, then tAventy thou.sand men might have j)ulled one of these stones. This is mere conjecture, as there are no traces indicating the man- ner of their removal. A half mile from the Aci’opolis, in the quarry, lies unused a stone still larger than either jdaced in the Avail. Our com- panj' measured it carefully, and found its di- mensions as fol- loAvs : Length, sixty-eight feet tAVO inches; height, fourteen feet; Avidth at top, thirteen feet eight inch- e s ; Av i d t h at bottom, seA’en- teen feet seven and one half STONE IN THE QHAKRY, BAALBEC. • 1 „ T J. inches. it Aveighs about fifteen hundred tons, and is large enough to make almost four of the Egyptian obelisks, such as stands in Central Park, New A'ork. It is Avell dressed, though not en- 302 THE HOT.Y LAND. tirely severed from tlie rock at the bottom, and lies exposed at an angle of about twenty degrees. It was no doubt intended for the wall ; and why it was not placed there, since the others were so handled, being only a little larger, 1 can not tell. Probably some enemy came on the nation and stopped the work for generations, and the art of handling such stones was meantime lost. The wall shows evidently that it has been erected at difierent and succeeding periods. The entire struct- ures at Baalbec look as if it required a thousand years to erect them. m The original entrance through the i)ortico, already men- tioned, on the east was into a great court, hexagon in shape, one hundred and ninety-five feet long and about two hundred and fifty wide, from angle to angle. From this court were vast entrances to the still greater court, in the western end of which stand the two great temples. This court is about four hundred and forty feet long ami three hundred and sixty feet wide. The numerous niches for the gods and the wonderful carvings of colossal figures and designs which form the adorn- ments of the courts it is impossible to describe. Carvings and figures in the massive rock seem to have been thrown about as with some magic power and art. ]\Iy first vi.fit to this'seeneof wonder was obtained by climb- ing over a broken jilace in the north-east part of the wall. After several hours’ observation, reading, and study, I un- dertook to go out into the little town again, clambering over the .‘^ame great stones in the broken-down section of the wall, (retting safely down, I saw a path leading through a garden, and choosing that I sought the narrow street across the stream. I had just got out of the garden into the nar- row lane, when passing a house standing on my right I turned to look at the few persons saunt<*ring about the door, when a horrible sight met my eyes. A great brawny Arab woman, standing about twenty-five or thirty feet from me, held a gun in her hands jiointing at me, ready to fire. I was just a little scared. I spoke sharply and quickly at her — for I could not speak to her, having learned no Arabic words suitable to such TEMPLE OF JUPITER. 303 ;m eiuergoncy. I tried to think up the few Arabic plirases I knew ; but tliey would not do, so I gave her good, pure, strong English. -lust in the nick of time some of the men and women who were standing by the dwelling and within a few feet of the woman with, the gun put in a plea for me and induced her not to shoot, one of them removing the gun from her hand. I felt more freedom to talk then, hut at once con- cluded that Avisdom dictated my departure from that, place. How (luickly I got around the next corner it would he diffi- cult to overestimate. Having mad(' my escai)c, I at first con- templated reporting the affiiir to the sheik of the town; hut remembering the great disadvantage I should be under before such a court as he would summon, I resolved to keejA clear of that i>lace in the future. When the sliadows of the Avorld- renowned ruins and idol-tem])les of Baalbec fall in memoiy over me in the years to come the horrid picture of that Arab woman Avith gun pointing at me Avill stand b(*fore me. The next entrance Ave made to the ruins of l>aall)ec Avas on horseback, going through one of the great A-aulted pas.sages Avhich, like a railway tunnel, passes under the Avail and admits to the great Acropolis. Several persons could ride side by side in these tunnels if the stone and debris Avere removed. The arches are of Homan origin, Avhile the foundation, or loAver part, belongs to an earlier period. These ])assages, Avith seA'eral side-chambers, are used as stables by the shepherds, who drive' their sheep into them at night for protection from Avild boasts and thieves. They are .several hundred feet long. Though I Avas at first much interested in looking at the arch and Avails and Latin in.scrii)tion.s, the dust and dr}’ atmosphere soon so choked me that it Avas a great relief to get out of it. There are tAvo of tlu'sc^ great tunnels, intersected by a cros.s-passage of the same kind. In the Avestern part of the plateau surrounded by these great Avails stood the Avonderful Temple of .Tupiter, It is so destroyed that it is impossible to tell just Avhat its form really Avas. There are six huge columns standing, Avhich are oA'er sixty feet in height, Avith base and capitals of the Corinthian 304 THE HOLY LAND. order. These columns are of- yellowish stone, and in three sections. We measured them carefully and found their diam- eter to be seven feet eight inches. The architrave, with cor- bels, molding, and cornice, is not less than seventeen feet high. These, mounted upon great round columns sixty feet high, present a view of hugeness which awes one into rever- ence. The world to-day has no appliance of mechanical power adequate to the removal or placing of stones of such size to such positions. All about in awful piles of ruins lie numbers of these columns broken, and sometimes half buried or juled one upon another by eartlnpiakes, telling the story of their wrecked grandeur. Originally there were nineteen of these columns on each side of the temple, and ten at each end. The Temple of the Sun, though smaller by three times than that of Jupiter, and entirely unconnected, standing southward from it and forming 'a distinct temple in the Acropolis, is the most perfect of all the ruins of Baalbec, and except the Temple of Theseus at Athens, tlie best preserved of all ancient temples. Its marl)le columns are nearly fifty feet high, hav- ing fifteen on each side and eight at each end, with a double row of columns in the portal, the inner of which is fluted. The carving of the capitals is very exquisite. And though most of it is some way despoiled, one or two capitals have their carvings of scroll and leaves perfect as made not less than fifteen centuries ago. The pillars about and above the door and the interior of the temple show the designs of fruit and images well represented in marl)le. The walls of the temple stand entire, though some of the columns and part of the peristyle have fallen down in ruins. The entire length on the outside, including porticos and columns, is two hun- dred and twenty-five feet, and its width, including colonnades on each side, about one hundred and twenty feet. The tem- ple inside the colonnades and front portico is one hundred and sixty by eighty -five feet. The interior was divided into two parts. The larger, and that first entered from the east, is ninety feet by sixty-seven. At the Avest end thirty-six feet Avere cut off as a sanctum, or holy place, and the floor of this 20 306 THE HOLY LAND. part was about five feet higher than that of the celhi or larger room. Portions of an arch and columns indicate the division of the temple in these parts. The carvings are rich and mar- velous in design, and the whole building is literally loaded down with all that the Corinthian style of architecture could possibly have placed upon it. The illustration shows the entrance to the temple and the marvelous work of art. One of the center stones has fallen partly down, as will be observed, and is supported in its present position by a pillar recently erected for that purpose. There are no windows or openings whatever in the wall, and no provision for lighting the temple. Whether it was covered with a roof is much questioned, many good authorities holding that it had none. From old coins, as well as from mortises over the pilasters on the inner side of this wall, it would seem that it was once covered with a roof which centuries ago had fallen in. Baalhec is situated almost on the water-shed of S3’ria. A few miles to the north the waters forming the Orontes flow northward, while the Litany, rising in the same plain, winds southward. Well-cultivated gardens surround the ancient ruins. Only a remnant of the ancient wall surrounding the town remains. There are other ruins of small temples about Baalhec, but they are unimportant. Some of the most inter- esting are upon the heights east of the town, from which a splendid view of the whole valley is to be obtained. Our camp was pitched within the walls of the Acropolis over Sabbath, October 30th. At 3 : 00 p. M. on Sabbath our compan}’, with Mr. and Mrs. William Chapin, of Providence, Rhode Island, who were passing the day there, met in the hoh' place in the Temple of the Sun to worship the true God. A number of Arabs stood off at a distance and looked on with wonder, while others interrupted us for a time by hallooing and climbing around on the top of the old walls. By request the writer preached a short discourse from the words, “And he put down the idolatrous priests?, whom the kings of Judah had ordained to burn incense in the high places in the cities of Judah, and in the places round about Jerusalem; them SABBA TH-SER VICES. 307 also that burned incense unto Baal, to the sun, and to the moon, and to the planets, and to all the host of heaven” (II. Kings xxiii. 5) ; and, “llis name shall be continued as long as the sun : and men shall be blessed in him : all nations shall call him blessed.” (Psalms Ixxii. 17.) I had a l>roken col- umn of the temple, in which Baal was once enshrined with awful pomp, for a pulpit on which to place the Bible. The old walls, fifteen centuries ago accustomed to the honors of Baal, eehoed with the simplest, purest statements of gospel truth I could command under such surroundings. The com- 2)any heard the word with attention. I believe God heard our prayers and songs, as we thought of him, of his Son, of his church, of the brethren, and of our loved ones far aw'ay, and there set up the claims and honor of the eternal Name above Baal. God has given the wilter no higher honor than the privilege of preaching Christ even in the great Tem- ple of the Sun in Syria. While the altar of Baal here has long fallen from the devotion of men, and the temple which enshrined it lifts up over the wreck of ages the boldest ruins, the divine Christ endures, and his person, his love, and his life are being enshrined more and more in the devotions, hearts, and lives of millions of living spiritual temples, where they shall live across the eternities. Every day of our travel here heightened our admiration for the Bible and its illus- trious character and marvelous record. CHAPTER V. A Leaving Baalbec — Last View — Valley of the Orontes — Crossing Anti- Lebanon — Tomb of Noalf — Abana — Xaainan — View of Damascus — Surrounding Plain — Hotel — Eastern House — Population of Damas- cus— Houses of Damascus — Bricks — Walls — Court of Oriental House — Divan — Bazaars — Costumes. camp in tlio ruins of Baalhee. Tliis was successfully (lone; and the company also was grouped on broken col- umns in the Temj)le of the Sun, where it was again j photogniphed together with these ruins as a background. But the time of sojourn under the shadow of these skeletons of idol-temples was soon over. A little after eight o’clock we were in the saddle. Our train moved slowly through the vault leading out of the ruins of the Acropolis under the Avail, and we turned our faces southAvard. Outside the toAvn another vieAV Avas taken of the great quarry and the huge stone lying there, and then Ave directed our course doAvn the Valley of Bekaa. Turning to get the last A'iew of the ruins of the idol-tem- ples, far beyond I caught a sjAlendid vieAv of the upper valley through which runs the Orontes nortlnvard ; to the Avest rose the grand Lebanon mountains with their lofty and auburn ]ieaks, here and there dotted Avith snoAV ; to the right lay the beautiful A’alley of Syria, through Avhich floAvs the Litany. Then I turned my face toward Damascus, beyond the anti- Lebanon mountains. With a good-by to the ancient home of idols AA'e climbed one spur after another of the anti-Lebanon mountains, up gi’eat heights and aboA'e precipices of alarming morning, October 31st, an artist 308 OUR CAMP at BAALBEC. THE ABANA. 309 depths. This mountain uas once tlironged with idol-worshi]v ers and places of idolatrous service. For two days and a half our course lay in a south-ea.sterly direction. At night we had good camping-2)laces ; and though the way through the mount- ain pass often lay over great rocks, all got over safely. Two of our company were thrown from their horses hy their fall- ing. but were not hurt, and one mule ui>set to the injury of some of our l)aggage. On tlie way we passed the Moham- medan tomb of Noah. It is inclosed in a rude building of stone walls. The tomb is about one hundn>d and thirty feet long, and live or six feet wide at the bottom. After a base of about one foot in height it slopes up to a sharp edge. About balf the tomb was covered with handkerchiefs of cotton and silk, Avhile lamps of olive-oil are kept burning day and night. I had never expected to see the tond) of Noah, or bedew Avith tears the memory of my ancestor, Avhom a Avorld of waters could not droAvn. Through the mountains pretty cascades and green valleys along tumbling streams of clear, cool Avater greeted our eyes and ears Avith goodly cheer. The second day Ave came to the river Barada, — as it is noAv often called here, — the Ahana of the Bible record, Avhich Na- aman preferred to the Jordan. At uf>on on Tuesday our com- pany took lunch on the green banks of this delightful stream. It is about fifteen feet Avide and eight feet deep, Avhile its cur- rent is sAvift and strong. Its banks are fertile and green, making rare beauty in a dry and desolate land. Several of our company took a bath in the .Vbana, but I Avas content to bathe my hands Avell. Some of the hor.ses bounded in, and but for the assistance rendered by the touri.sts our lunch- steward's beast would probably have been left a monument or pillar of bones in the mire of its banks. But the river is beautiful, and in its crystal Avaters play multitudes of fishes. On its banks close to us Avas a camp of Bedouin.s, almost as black as the African, who seemed not to take any fancy to our company, not even alloAving their dogs to eat the chicken- bones Ave threAv across the stream to them. They had large flocks of goats and cattle. This stream is one of the glories 310 THE HOLY LAND. <)f Syria, and Hows down from the mountains through narrow valleys until it enters the great plain near Damascus. All along its hanks are tall, beautiful ])oplar trees, with here and there fruits — apricots and grapes. It furnishes the sup- ply of water for Damascus. In the plain a distance from the city, it is divided into a number of streams. Three of these are used to irrigate the land and two to furnish water for the city. Many of the courts of the houses are .supplied with water from the Ahana. The plains have given to them their wonderful fertility by the streams and channels leading from it. These facts readily showed to me why Xaaman was so proud of his own ‘‘Rivers of Damascus,” and in haughti- ness turned from the Prophet Elisha, in anger exclaiming, “ Are not Ahana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them and l)c clean?” (II. Kings v. 12.) The .Iordan empties into the Dead Sea, and its waters are muddy and a])parently unclean. The waters of Ahana are crystal in clearness, and make the desert plain a fruitful garden, and cause a fountain to sparkle in almost every dwelling in Damascus. M’ith these views Naaman was quite right in his estimate, leaving (lod out of the question. A little more than two days out from Baalbec brought us to the fountains of Fijeh. This El lujeh is the great supply of water emptying into the Ahana. The spring is a volume of water like a river bursting out from beneath great rocks. The structure of Avails indicates that at some remote time there Avas an arch and probably a temple to the gods here. After two and a half days’ hard riding through the Avildest mountain scenery, and along the Ahana, Ave at last stood on .lebel Kasiun, an imniense hill or mountain (.lebel is the Arabic for mountain) just aboA'e the plain of Damascus, Avhile in the splendor of the noon-day sun there lay in beautiful A'ieAV before us the “ Pearl of the East,” Damascus, the oldest city in the Avorld. It is a grand A’ieAv, like Avhich there is none in all Syria. The valley is fertile, and its vast orchards and gardens along the river, spreading out on eA’erj’ side, 811 312 THE HOLY LAXD. presented a scene on which tlie eye. accustomed for days to look on rocks, clay, or chalk-hills and mountains, longs to feast. The Mohammedans assert that it ^Yas to this hill that Mohammed came and then turned hack hecause he did not wish yet to enter into paradise. If a beautiful jrlain and watered gardens and green fruitful orchards make up the Mohammedan idea of heaven, then this site in barren Syria is their paradise. The Mohammedans also have a tradition tluit Abel was here murdered by Cain, and concealed in a bloody cave. The redness of the rocks ])ossibly gave the tra- dition that they were colon-d with his blood. It is also believed that Adam and Eve lived here. And here they assert Ahraliam received the idea and revelation of the exist- ence of one God. No doubt the enchanting view afforded from this lu'ight gave rise to these traditions. North-eastward as far as the eye can ])enc‘trate there is this vast plain with its orchards of citron, orange, apricot, tig, and })omegranate trees, skirted with walnuts and poplars and palms. Northward a few miles, in the mountains, in full sigiit, was Hohah, where, “on tlie left hand of Damascus,” Abraham with his three hundred and idglitcen chosen serv- ants ceased to pursue the armies of Chcdorlaomer of Elam and his confederate's. Here he recovert'd his ca})tive nephew Lot and his goods with all the jerisoners, both men and women and goods which had been captured in Sodom and Gomorrah. (Genesis xiv. 15.) Though almost forty slow cen- turies have passed since this hero of faith and hero of battles wrought this victory here, these mountains stand as their, just in front of Damascus, the city whose Idstory in part is known for four thousand years, with its narrow strec'ts, its gardens and orchards, and its numerous domes and minarets of Mo- hammedan moscpies. Far as the eye could scan, the fertile plain extended, converted from the veriest desert, by the life- giving waters of the Ahana, whose clianiu'ls and streams, led in every direction, after performing their mission of irrigation sink into the Lakes of the Meadow, eighteen miles east of Damascus. OR TEXT A L HOTEL. 313 Southward from the city in the plain is the way over which Saul of Tarsus came down proud, defiant, and “breathing out threateniugs and slaughter against tlie disciples of the Lord,” with “letters to Damascus to the synagogues, that if he found any in this way, whether they were men or women, he might bring them bound unto Jerusalem.” There “about noon, suddenly there shone from heaven a great light round about” the persecutor of Jesus. Fartlier to the right and directly southward in full view stand the lofty peaks of Hermon. An hour too quickly sjicd away as I stood on Jebel Kasiun ; ami weary with six day’s of camp -life, and hard travel over mountain paths, our company, exchanging congratulations, rode down the stee]) cuts in the red rocks, cro.-^sed the plain, entered the gates of Damascus, and followed its streets paved with round, smooth stones. Dr. Thompson’s horse slip})ed and fell headlong, throwing the di)ctor many feet on the hard stones. Foi’tunately he got up unhurt! \Ve alighted from our horses in front of a great massive door, in which was opened a small door, two feet Avide and alxmt four feet high, through which we crept one at a time, and found ourselves in a splendid court of an oriental dwelling. Mosaic floors, a great marble basin of fresh water, thirty feet long, ten feet wide, and three deep, rising nearly two feet above the rich })avement, met our ej'es. .Vbout us in the court, probably sixty feet square, grew oranges and lemons in full fruitage. For a few days, camp- life Avas exchanged for this pleasant place. Thoughts turned upAvard in thanksgiving to God for his protecting- hand amid the many dangers of the Avay. The imagination quickened at the anticipation of Avhat Avas before me. Mr. HoAvard, who had come directly from Ilcyroot to Damascus to meet the company, handed me seA’cral letters from far-off home and IovimI ones ! Does the i-eader Avonder if a tear stole to the eye as tlie hand broke the seal Avhich I kncAV had been fastened a month before by loving hands I had not elapsed for long and anxious months? Damascus is the most thoroughly oriental city of its size in the Avorld. No European architect lias infringed upon the 314 THE HOLY LAND. ancient manners of building, and no -western habits of life have intermingled with the customs of this oriental people which have come down through tlie centuries long j)ast. The population of Damascus is variously given, l)ut is probably not far from one linndred and twenty-five thousand. Most of tliese are Mohammedans, though tlu>re are a few Jews, Greeks, and Catholic Cliristians, and a feAv Protestant Chris- tians. It is the great iMohammedan center of jaiwer in Syria. The streets are tridy oriental — narrow, crooked, and curious, with vcalls shutting many of the residences and garckms from public view. The roofs of the houses are mostly Hat, and of earth, as are all the houses of Syria. The houses are largely built of sun-dried bricks, tbough some of the buildings are of stf»ne aird marble, and jua^sent a moderately pleasing external ajipearanca*. Tlie l)ricks used in Syria, Palestine, and Egypt ar(> of this soft kind dried in the Sau. A cliannel or ditch is cut in the ground, aud in it mud, water, aud straw are tramped together by persons who wade back and forth in the trough. The straw was used in this same manner in ancient times in the making of brick. In the time of the atHietion and sorrow of Israel in Egyj)t, more than thirty-three centurie.s* ago, “the officers of the children of Israel came and cried unto Pharaoh, saying, Whejefore dealest thou thus with thy servants? There is no straw given unto thy servants, and they say to- us, Malvc brick: and, behold, thy servants are beaten,” — for Pharaoh and the task- masters had .said, “ 1 will not give you straw. Go ye, get you straw where ye can find it.” To this just plea of the officers of Israel, who were slaves at this most menial toil. Pharaoh cruelly answiwed, “Ye are idle, ye are idle. * * * * (P) there- fore now, and work ; for there shall no straw lie givtui you, yet shall ye deliver the tale of bricks.” (Exodus v. ld-18.) The straw is used to cause the mud to adhere together. The mud is then molded into lirick, about an inch and a half thick and five or six inches wide and eight or ten inches long, and laid out in the sun to dry. In many places houses are Imilt of these mud-brick by lay- COURT OF HOUSE. 315 ing them directly upon the ground, without any foundation beneath them. Where this is the case they are very liable to become saturated with water in time of heavy rains, and to crumble down and out at the bottom when affected l)y floods of water. So our Lord declared to Ids disci[>les that “ho that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a founda- tion built an house ui)on the earth ; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell ; and the ruin of that house was great.” (Luke vi. 49.) These soft bricks are also used in the construction of walls. A large part of the Avail around Damascus is built of them. The walls of houses must be made thick and be Avell protected by the roof, or tlie rainy season Avill greatl}' damage them. Neither are they seeun*, for Avith a shar[) iron the thief may dig tlirough the Avail and thus effect an entrance into the city or ilwelling. There is CAddent allusion to this danger by the Savior Avhen he says, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, Avhere moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break [literally, dig,'] through and steal.” (MattheAV vi. 19.) 1 Avas one day admitted into the dAvelling of a Avealthy Jcav-, which I found un2)retending on the extei’ior, and into the court of Avh ich I crept through a small gate, to enter Avhich it Avas necessary to stoop quite loAv. Once COURT OP AN EASTERN HOUSE. witllill, tllC CyC was met Avith most splendid apartments. Walls and floors Avere of the most precious stones, Avhile the finest of art had 316 THE HOLY LAND. made them fit places for the dwelling of the gods. I should think that this fitting up of a single reception-room, or divan, had cost not less than eight or ten thousand dollars. The lady, learning that our company was from America, treated us with great courtesy, and we were shown such parts of the dwelling as we de.sired to see with many evidences of pleasure. For this courtesy our guide paid her sc'-eral piasters. DIVAN, OE EECEETION-EOOM. The liotel in which we lodged in I)ama.scus proved to be a very plea.saut place. It was the more interesting on account of its thorouglily oriental style, having been built by a wealthy Damascene as a private residence. Tlie entire court is paved with marble; ami the fountain and fruits and comfortable chambers renderi-d the locality a desirable i)lace of rest. This is the only hotel in Damascus, though there are many cafes Avhere meals may be ol)tained. This hotel is kept by a widow. The bazaars of Damascus are among tbe interesting features of the city. Kach class of merchandise or industry has its own particular street or square. The streets are narrow and usually roofed over, and little stalls about eight feet square, jammed in closely side by side, are occupied V)v the merchants, who have their goods well disi^layed. In one s(piare it is nothing but red slioes ; in another, cloaks or clothing; in another, jewelry ; in another, silks; and still in another, brass, and iron, and so on tlirough all the range of merchandise. WEDDING PROCESSION. 317 The man sits cri)ss-le'iged and smokes his pipe. We were in the city at a time of a great iMohamniedan feast, which is annually kept ii\ nuMuory of Mohammed’s fliglit from Mecca to ^lediua. On this account we saw Damascus and its jjeople in their best clnthc.s. The business houses nearly all kept holiday, and the men and children appeared on the streets with new and rich clothing of tlie gayest colors. Five times each day the cannon fire a round of shots, the first being given with the breaking of day. The peculiarity of dress was a constant entertainment. The men wear long gowns down to the feet, and these of the brightest colors. ^lost of tlie women wear the white sheet entirely over their person. Small chil- dren are dressed like adult persons. The appearance of small boys and girls dressed in the same style as the men and women presented a scene of striking curiosity. Xow and then there appi'ared a young woman almost white on the streets, whose face was, at least in a large measure, e.x posed to view, and who would really have appeared very beautiful but for the fact that her forehead and cheeks were tattooed so hor- ribly as to mak(? her ap})car hideous. These usually wore a ring in the nose, wliich does not add much to their beauty. One day as we were passing through Damascus my atten- tion was suddenly attracted by a company of persons moving along the streets in pompous parade. Some men gayly dressed and others armed were riding on horses, Avhile a woman ricldy clad, hut closely veiled, was perched upon a camel, whose neck was adorned with necklaces of silver and rihl^on. Behind her followed several women almost equally richly clad. In the front of the procession were a number of camels loaded with furniture of various kinds and materials for hou.sekeeping purposes. Being struck with the appearance of the proces- sion, I at once raised inquiry as to what this all meant. Soon I learned, what I should have at first suspected, that it was a wedding-procession. The bridegroom was taking his bride home to his dwelling. This procession is the principal part of g Mohammedan marriage. The bridegroom had already taken the dower to the father of the bride, and this procession 318 THE HOLY LAND. was attended with the fortune of the bride going to the home of the husband. From the amount of divans, chests, rugs, and boxes, I should infer that this ceremony was that of a lady of more than ordinary wealth. Usually it is said the Moham- medan women do not possess much goods. The fathers give away their daughters in marriage, and it is said frequently make the proposals. Still, it is expected that the bridegroom will pa}' a dower for his wife, even as was done here ‘thousands of years ago — as did Abraham\s servant when he secured Rebecca for the wife of Isaac. (Genesis xxiv. 53. See also Exodus xxii. 17, Deuteronomy xxii. 29.) The Jews and Chris- tians have more of a ceremony of words at a marriage, while the procession resembles that of the iMohammedans. These have no ceremony, and the contract or betrothal is often only verbal; yet nothing remains but for the bride to be taken by the husband. It is much as in the case of Isaac, above referred to; for it said, “Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah's tent, and took Rebecca, and she became his wife; and he loved her.” (Genesis xxiv. 67.) It is probable that most fathers consult the wishes of their daughters respecting their future husbands; and it would be fortunate if in every case they should be kind enough at least to say as did Laban to Rebecca, “AVilt thou go with this man?” AA'edding proces- sions are now usually held in the day-time, though this one seen at Damascus, joined in by the friends of the bridegroom and bride who attended them to the home where the feast was to be held, vividly reminded me of the Savior’s wonder- ful parable of the ten virgins, five of whom were foolish, and were absent purchasing oil when the bridegroom came and the procession was formed, “and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage ; and the door was shut.” (Mat- thew XXV. 10.) The girls are married at an early age, fre- quently when only thirteen years old. The Mohammedans allow a plurality of wives ; and for certain causes men are allowed to divorce them. AA’^omen, however, being more of slaves than wives, this seldom occurs. The man can marry many more if those he has do not please him. CHAPTER VI. 'Damascus — Trading — Camels— Ornaments — Mosques — Call of the Mu- ezzin— Great Mosque — Basilica — Roman Temple — Tomb of the Head of John the Baptist — House of Riinmon — Altar of Ahaz — Trouble in the Mosque — The Massacre — Damascus of Antiquity — Visits of Abraham and Elisha — Conversion of Saul — Street Called Straight — House of Ananias — Old Wall — Eastern Gate. T is impossible to do justice to a description of the streets of Damascus, filled with the ciy of men and children and women who everywhere throng them with cakes, figs, and water to sell. A man carries cucumbers for sale and cries, ‘^Yabu elch, khudhlak sheleli, bitlatin roll el-khiynr,” “O father of a family, buy a load ; for thirty paras a roll of cucumbers.” Another tvith a glass jar in his hand or on his back filled with water carries two brass cups in his hand tvhich he rattles in the clearest manner and cries, Berrid ala kalbak,” “refresh thy heart.” Raisin- water, licorice - water, etc., are sold along the streets in the same manner, while here and there a group are eating corn which they have roasted on a few coals in the street, or mak- ing a dinner on some soup prepared in a dish in the streets, around which all, old and young, are seated. Damascus is a great trading-point, and silks are produced of finest quality. Splendid raisins are also cultivated in great quantities. Many thousand tons are annually carried to Beyroot on donkeys and camels. The camel is a great institution in Damascus. King Benhadad sent a train of forty camels hy Hazael to meet the old prophet, laden with the choicest fruits of Dama.seus. (II. Kings viii. 9.) The noiseless tread of the camels in place of all vehicles in the street causes 319 320 THE HOLY LAND. traffic to go on with a restful grace. On these “ships of the desert” great bundles of wood and all kinds of produce for the market are borne along the narrow streets. So closely crowded ai’e the streets that I often looked to see a camel tread upon a group of children, sitting dotvn eating soup, or some old hidy roasting corn or preparing something for sale in tlie streets. So carefully do these great, ugly animals tread along that no collision occurred and no harm happened to any. And thus has it been frhm the time of Abraham until now. No improvement or invention has been able to supersede the camel. He is the strongest yet gentlest of all the animals in service here. Though sometimes used for idowing, his task is to bear burdens. With a growl or moan, which seems to be a protest, tbe camel kneels down Avith four movements, the last of Avhich is a sitting down on its haunches hung on its belly. In this posture and with many a moan the camel re- ceives its load, and then, growling, slowly rises when bidden, and with its measured tread starts on its weary way. It lives on the roughest f>f food, such as cut straw, barley, dry beans, and the j)rickley thistle, Avhich like thorny bushes grows on the plains. The Avord camel means burden-bearer; and noth- ing on earth more fully ansAvers its cognomen. l\Iany of them are j)oor and look ill fed. The camel lives and travels great distances with little food, and can go many days Avithout Avater. Its long strides in travel, throwing the rider backward and fox’AA'ard, make him almost sea-sick, until he has become accustomed to these A’ibrations. A great Avooden saddle serves as a kind of Avagon-ladder, on which any load is placed, Avhile the rider sits on the top in various positions, as are most rest- ful to him. XoAV and then I saAV camels Avith silk or leathern strings about their long, crooked, slender necks, and a fcAV Avith ornaments of silver upon them. In the battles of Gideon against Zalmund and Zebah, “Gideon took aAvay the orna- ments which Avere on their camels’ necks” (Judges viii. 21), and “the chains that Avere about their camels’ necks.” (Judges viii. 26). In Damascus as in Constantinople, the dogs are supreme. CALL OF THE MUEZZIN. 321 There are in this city alone nearh’ one hundred Mohammedan mosques in which services are conducted on Fridays, and over one hundred smaller houses, also called moscjues. wliieh are used as school-houses, where persons are taught to read the Koran, h'riday is the Mohammedan Sahhath, hiit it can hardly be called a day of rest with tlumi. It usually ])eeomcs their great market-day, though devout Mohammedans attend the mos(jues on that day more largely than upon otlu'r days. The mosques are always kept open, and ])rayers are offered in them five times each day. M’ith the early morning a crier, or muezzin, ap})oars in the tall minaret and chants the “Adan,” or call to 2irayer, — ( iod is most great. God is most great. I testify that there is no deity hut God. I bear witness that Mohammed is God's a^jostle. Gome to ])rayer. Come to security. Come to salvation. Prayer is better than sleep. God is most great. There is no other (fod hut God, and Mo- hammed is God’s jrrojjhet. Come to 2)rayer ! ’’ In every city this call greeted our ears. (See page 239.) The largest, most interesting and important of all the mos(|ues of Damascus is the “ Great Mosque of the Omeiyade.s,’’ which, with the Mo- liammedans, ranks next to Medina, Mecca, and the Mos(|ue of Omar, at .Jerusalem. A Roman temi)le once stood on the same site, which in the fourth century was converted into a Byzan- tine basilica, dedicated to .John the Bajitist. The mosque is four hundred and twent}''-nine feet long aird one huirdred and twenty-five feet wide. On one side is a great court sur- rounded by massive walls. The ancient walls of the mosque stand as they did in the Christian tem2)le a thousand years ago, they having been jrreserved by the Mohammedans when the church was destroyed by them. At first the mosque was built in great siilendor, hut being in jrart dr'stroyed by fire in 1069, it was restored, hut not with its original beauty. On the south side of the mosque yet stands the great doorway once leading into the buildiirg when it was a Christian church. The carvings of the massive lintels and posts remind one of the entrance to the Temple of the Sun at Baalbec, and they were probably a part of the building when a Roman temjfie. 21 322 THE HOLY LAXD. In the lintel is an inscription in Greek, wliicli can be seen from the roof of a silversmith’s bazaar, -which has stood there from the early Christian times. It is as follows: “Tliy king- dom, O Christ, is an everlasting kingdom, and thy dominion endureth throughout all generations.” This sculptured sen- tence is from the one hundred and forty-fifth Psalm and thir- teenth verse, -\vith “O Chri.st” interpolated. The interior of tlie mosque is divided into three ])arts by two rows of stone col- umns twenty-three feet high, extending from east to west. A finely-gilded wooden structure stands in the mosque, which is said to contain the head of Jolni the Baptist. Tliis sjjot is greatly revered by tlie Mohammedans of Damascus, and they are accustomed to swear by the liead of “ Yaliia,” as they call this saint. Traces of the ancient structure with the okl walls and arches forming tlie entrance to the basilica, make this mosiiue an interesting study. Xow a mosque, — over a thou-sand years ago a Christian church which stood iqion the site of a Roman tenqile to the gods, — it becomes altogcdher ])r()hable that it is the site where once stood the “ House of Rimnion,” the god of Syria, to which Naaman, who at first despised the Avaters of Israel, Avhen healc'd and eonverted, car- ried tAVo mule-loads of earth as an offering to his God. (II. Kings, A'. 17.) To this spot he Avas so attached that though Avishing to honor the God of Israel and depart from idolatry he said, “ In this thing the Lord pardon thy servant, that Avhen my master goeth into the house of Rimnion to AA'orship there, and he leaneth on my hand, and I bow myself in the house of Rimmon : Avhen 1 hoAV doA\ n myself in the house of Rimnion the Lord pardon thy servant in this thing.” (II. Kings, V. 18.) It Avas from Damascus, and probably from this house of Rimmon, that Ahaz, king of Judah, secured the pat- tern of a heathen altar, after Avhich he ordered Urijah to erect an altar for the house of the Lord at Jerusalem. (JI. Kings, xA’i. 10.) Barefooted, or shod in slippers, avc visited eA^ery pai't of the mosque; and Ave found ourseh^es closely AA’atched by the Moslems. An incident occurred here AA'hich occasioned not a little alarm, and might easily have ended in the mur- THE MASSACRE. 323 der of our entire com pan}’ ! All our company bad removed their shoes and put on slippers, or Avore stockings only, ex- cept one. He had just purchased at the bazaar a ]3air of native shoes to bring home Avitli him, and supposing they would answer for slippers he put them on and Avalked through the mosque in them. This occasioned no little trouble. Soon we were followed by a number of l\Ioslems who talked loudly in an excited manner. Upon impiiry of our dragoman Ave learned the cause of their folloAving us. He tried to tell them that the man's shoes Avere ncAv, and that he wore them as siiji- })crs, and had taken his shoes off at the door; but it all did no good. Not less than tAventy-five persons were around us. When we Avere about ascending the minaret tower to get a view of the city they raised a roAV and jAersisted in refusing us permission to do so. We were ([uite alarmed. The caira.-i Avith us Avas soon strengthened by the addition of several soldiers, and we got on safely. Thanks to the soldiers ! This incident calls to memory the bloody scene and horrid persecu- tion of the Chri.stians less than a quarter of a century ago. The Christian quarters show the results of this destructive outrage, Avhich began on the ninth of July, 1860. The Dru.ses led in the massacre, but had the su})port of the Turks. The streets of the Christian quarter literally ran Avith blood. Though the Christians sought shelter everyAvhere, they Avere everyAvhere pursued and slaughtered, and their slain bodies laid in the streets until not less than six thousand souls per- ished. Many of the clergy were butchered beside the altars Avhere they had fled for refuge. While this hellish massacre was going on at Damascus, the mountain district witnessed like scenes of blood until probably not less than fourteen thousand unoffending Christians Avere slain. When all Eu- rope Avas aroused the work ceased, and the French sent an army of ten thousand men to Syria to suppress the murder. Pasha Ahmed, the Turkish leader, and others, were arrested and executed. It is to be regretted to this day that the Turks were not then driven entirely out of this land. Our courier at Damascus was one of the A’ictims of the horrid persecution. 324 THE HOLY LAXD. He however escaped with his life, and found his way to Europe, while his father and family fell victims to the hellish fanaticism and rage of the Mohammedan murderers. The Damascus of antiquity was probably more like that which we now behold than any city of the East like its former self. With a very few changes of a})i)earanee there is no doubt that its streets and houses are about tlie same in ap- l^earance as two thousand years ago, or when Paul was here a new and illustrious convert to Christianity. . ' Abraham mu.st have passed through Dama.scus on his way from Ilaran to Canaan nearly four thousand years ago, wlien he went out not knowing whither be went. Josephus leads us to infer that he was once the ruler of Damascus. After his sojourn in Egypt he pursued the armies of this country in battle, determined upon tlie recapture of Lot and his goods, as far as Dan, and there dividing his servants in comjianies, by night smote them and pursued them as far as Ilohah, above Damascus. (Genesis xiv. 13-16.) Eliezer, the trusty steward of the house of Abraham, was from Damascus. (Genesis xv. 2.) David, in the time of his wars, conquered this center of Svria, and put a garrison liere. (11. i^amucl viii. 5, G.) Eli- sha the prophet of God once, at least, visited here, and was met by Hazael, to inquire whether Btnhadad should recover from his disease. The king had such confidence in the man of God that he sent a train of forty camels from Damascus to meet Elisha. (II. Kings viii. 9.) Day after day as I visited the different places and parts of Damascus and pressed through its crowded streets I could not l)ut remember the wonderful conversion of Saul of Tarsus, which more than anything else makes the city one to be vis- ited with interest. His idea of suppressing Christianity was only bounded by the utmost distance to which the persecuted followers of Christ had fled. He had done his worst at Jeru- salem. But the breadth of his idea appears from his selecting the capital of Syria as the scene of more extended persecu- tions. He knew how to strike the centers of influence and power. His cruelty knew no hounds. He had secured the COyVERSlOX OF SAUL. 325 murtvnloin of Stephen, guarding the clothes of the men who tlius stoned to death the first Christian martyr. (Acts vii. 58.) Some of Saul’s associates had embraced Cliristianity ; but the disciples were scattered everywhere. Young Saul, filled with enthusiasm for Judaism and burning with madness and rage against the followers of Christ, “breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of tlie Lord, went unto the high- ]>riest, and desired of him letters to Damascus to the syna- gogues, that if he found any of this way, whether they were men or women, he might bring them bound unto Jerusalem. " (Acts ix. 1, 2.) Notliing daunted his rage. The tenderness and lielplessness of women made no appeal to his heart. Had he forgotten the look and cries and prayer and death of Stephen ? The journey of one hundred and fifty miles Avas almost endt*d. The time of work was at hand. He had come near to Damas- cus. It was noonday. Tin- great city spread out its beauty before him; but “suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven: and he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecut- est thou me ? ” It was not Stephen or the scattered disciples of the Lord or helpless women, but the Lord who answerd, “ I am Jesus whom thou persecut- est.” Three days and nights blindness fell over his eyes, and he Avas Avith- out food. Passing one day from the “ street which is called Straight” I saAv tAvo men sloAvly and carefully leading a poor blind man througl) ‘STREET WHICH IS CALLED STRAIGHT.** 326 THE HOLY LAND. the crowd; and so eighteen hundred years ago they led Saul Tarsus staggering and blind to the city through the western gate. Here yet is the “ street which is called Straight/' down which he tvas led sightless to the house of Judas, while his In art and voice were lifted up to God in prayer. This long, straight street, about twelve feet wide, is no doubt in appear- ance much as it was when Saul looked upon it after three days of Idindness, and the opening of his eyes tvhile Ananias ‘‘ jnitting his hands on him said, Brother Saul, the Lord, even Jesus, that aj^peared unto thee in the waj" as thou earnest, hath sent me that thou mighest receive thy sight and be filled with the Holy Ghost.” (Acts ix. 17-) It is the only street running directly through the city, and though called “Straight,” it is not absolutely so, but compared with the others justly de.serves its name. It runs through the entire city from east to west. The house of Ananias is yet shown to visitors. It is now a Catholic chapel, about thirty-five feet long and twenty-five wide, with an altar and a few rude benches in it. There was a great stir in Damascus, for Saul immediately “ preached Christ in the synagogues, that he is the Son of God.” (Acts ix. 20.) Here he increased in strength and confounded the Jews. But God, as he told Ananias (see Acts ix. 16), was as prompt as Saul, and so were the Jews. He must be shown how great things he must suffer for Christ's sake ! The Jews ti)ok counsel to kill him. The fate he had selected for the followers of Christ tvas soon proposed for him. He must escape Damascus and find other fields of toil and study. Por- tions of the old walls of Damascus still remain, and I ram- Med outside the city to the place in the structure where tradi- tion asserts “the di.sciples took him by night and let him down by the wall in a basket.” (Acts ix. 25.) The governor and garrison of soldiers were seeking his arrest, and long afterward he told his Greek converts at Corinth that “through a window in a basket was I let down by the wall, and escaji- ed.” (II. Corinthians xi. 33.) The remainder of the wall on the eastern side of the city is of heavy stone, the lower part being made of large, scpiare, EASTERN GATE. 327 dressed stone. The gate lias a (ireek lintel and liehind it a Itoinau arch, as shown in onr illustration. Was it here tlie EASTERN- GATE OF DAMASCUS. new convert to Christ in the darkne.ss of the night lifted up Ids soul to God in a new purpose to bear all persecutions for Christ's sake, and steadily preach Jesus to the end'? What a change had come to him ! What a life was behind him ! What a career lay before him! It was doubtless from here that Saul went into Arabia, where he spent the greater part of three years. IIow this time was spent he does not tell us; liut it is wisely conjectured that it was employed in the pro- founder study of the Scriptures as they relate to the Messiah, and in personal communion with God. (Galatians i. 17, IS.) The conversion of Saul was no less wonderful and divine than his illustrious and almost peerless life. CHAPTER VII. Leaving Damaseus — Wliite(V Sepulchers— Place of Saul’s Conversion — Tomb of :Nimrocl — Over the llennon — Plowing — Height of Hermon — Character of Ilerinon — Bible Allusions — Rain-Storm — View from Hermon — Ctesarea Philippi — History — Herod Philip — Salome - Ba- nias of To-Day — Walls — Moats — Gate — Coins— Temple of Pan — Fortress — Christ at Ca'sarea — His Discourse — The Transfiguration — Raphael's Transfiguration — The Lunatic Child — Woman Healed — Statue — Eusebius’ Record — A Figure. t^FTER scvenil days spent at Damascus our company y, turned their journeying toward Ctcsarca Pldlippi. Our course lay south-west over the Damascus plain. Just outside the city we passed through a vast gra ve- il^ yard. Here as elsewhere the graves are all whitewashed, 1 and show not only great care for the 2>laees of the dead, but forcefidly and often reminded me of the words of Christ to the hv])ocritical Jews — “Woe unto you, scril)es and Phari- sees, hyi)Ocrites ! for ye are like unto whited sei)ulcher.s, which indeed ai)pear beautiful outward, hut are within full of dead men's hones.'’ (Matt, xxiii. 27.) These whited seijulchers were adorned with myrtle and green branches of trees. Some- where in this jJain we jyassed the jdace where Saul was smit- ten down. Earlier tradition located the site aljout six miles distant from the city. No doubt the scene occurred close to Damascus. Passing out of the valley or jJain we were in bro- kjcn, hilly lands, and beyond the water-shed, and camjjed at Krfr JIairar, close by the hanks of the Pharpar, which Xaaman, the leper of Damascus, a long time ago jJreferred to “ all the waters of Israel” when he received the in.struction from the servant of Elisha to wash seven times in the Jordan. The Pharpar here is but a small stream flowing southward until it ;’._8 HEIGHT OF HERMON. 329 enters the Meadow Lakes miles below. Just back of our camp, the first night, were three circular mounds, one of which is pointed out as the tomb of Ximrod, “the mighty hunter before the Lord.” (See Genesis x. 8, 9.) Which is his tomb I could not ascertain. The stones in the poor-houses here show that tlicy are from some anciimt tiunple which once adorned the fabulous location. Close by our camp tbe Bedouin men, women, and children were husking corn far into the niglit. Women and children, half clad, came around our camp for backshish. The next morning dusky sliadows Avere crec})ing along over Ilcrmon, and clouds Avere lloatiug over its summit. Our dragoman looked long at tlie clouds and said, “ I don’t like them.” All day our Avay lay over the slo])es of lofty Hermon, on the top of which Ave saw here and there a patch of snoAV Avhich the summer had failed to remove. Noav and then Ave crossed rocky valleys, iiA Avhieh the i)eopl(! Avere preparing for the soAving of grain. There are no fences in all Syria; and in*a little \udley 1 counted twenty, and even thirty yoke of oxen plowing. The men or Avomen ])lowing Avere barefoot(“d, and seemed to stand it Avell oA'er the stones. The stones are for a distance limestone, then basaltic, then volcanic. For miles, at a height of about six tbousand feet above the sea- level, Ave traveled o\an- beds of lava, or stone, throAvn fi’om volcanoes in the long ages past. Just to our right Avas the tallest peak of Hermon, ten thousand feet abo\m the leA'el of the sea. The mountain is cultivated far up its slopes, and over its huge form shepherds lead their tlocks in the pasture season. There are a few large trees loAV down on the mountain, but farther up are great quantities of shrubs of the Syrian oak, almond, and other trees. Its summit is divided into three peaks, — tAVo of nearly equal height, and one much loAver. Ruins of ancient buildings are yet to be s('en near the sum- mit of the mountain, for once a Roman temple adorned it. The ancient IlebrcAVS called Hermon, Sifui. (Deuteronomy iv. 48.) And in the time of Joshua it Avas mentioned as the land forming the borders of tbe land yet to be pos.sessed. 330 THE HOLY LAND. (Joshua xii. 1; xiii. 5.) The psalmist in joortraying the blessing of fellowship and spiritual communion of the people of God remembered the “ dew of llermon and in the fall- ing mist of the lofty mountain which refreshes it like the rain, he saw the refreshing dews of the fellowship of brethren who “dwell together in unity.” (Psalms cxxxiii. 3.) VIEW FROM IIERMON. 331 All day long we journeyed along its slopes. When we had reached the highest point to which the way chosen led us, we found ourselves enveloiied in clouds; and amid a tremen- dous wind and storm the rain poured down upon us, so that our horses turned around and refused to go farther. We coaxed them along down the great steep of the Ilermon for several hours, until by and by the rain ceased for a time and the clouds were lifted, and our eyes caught far off in our front the first view of the valley of Banias, whore rise; tlie four sources of the Jordan, uniting to form the river in the valley al>ove the waters of Merom. It was a grand sight. Tlie plain lying beautifully between Ilermon on the east and the mountains of Naphtali on the west, spreads out with the appearance of fertility, such as we had not seen after leaving Damascus. Then the streams forming the Jordan wound about tangled among the hills, and the Avater.s of IMorom miles arvay spread out like a fiery sheen in the setting sun, Avhich was almost ready to disappear behind the mountains of Naphtali. Soon to our right were seen great olive-orehards, and aboA'e them the toAvering fortress-height, sheltered by lofty Ilermon, from Avhich the ruins of the ancient fortress looked grimly doAvn upon us. Down over one Avinding rocky steep after another our horses wei’e hurried along until Ave Avere on the talde-land at the base of Hermon. Then Avinding around between great trees Ave soon Avere amid the ancient ruins of Ca'sarea Philippi. Passing through the toAvn Ave found a beautiful spot under a number of grand old oliA'e-trees, Avhere Ave aMghted cold and Avet and pitched our tents for the Sabbath. The “early rains” had begun, and all the night long, and Sabbath, Sabbath night, and Monday the rain fell in torrents. Half of our company were sick; and this cold rain and a day’s delaA' Avas not very inspiriting. Here for the first I felt that my feet had come upon the soil made sacred by the footsteps of our blessed Lord. Here for the first time I came upon territory Avhere certainly our Savior once visited. Banias of to-day is knoAvh in the New Testament under the name Cajsarea Philippi. It Avas before that time knoAvn as 332 TEE HOLY LAND. Pancax; and here the god Pan was worshiped and had a tem- ple, built by Herod the Great, of white marble, in honor of Augustus. Herod Philip rebuilt or enlarged the city and named it “Cicsarea Philippi” in honor of Caesar and himself; and though afterward honored by Agrij)pa II., it was under Herod Pliilip that it attained its greatest glory. He was a mild and gentle ruler ; and if the records of history are to be relied upon, after living unmarried most of his life, when old he fell in love with and married Salome, the daughter of his half brother, Herod Phili]-), and Herodias. It was she who danced at the drunken fea.st of Herod Antipas when the im- prisoiK'd and heroic John the Baptist was at her request be- headed (Matt. xiv. 1-12), and his head brought in a charger and delivered to Herodias, who.se adulterous sin in marrying Antipas he had rebuked. Salome was then a child perhaps not more than fourteen years old, and was soon married to Herod Philip, whose death occurred onl}’ a few years after his marriage. She then married her cousin, Aristobulus. Banias of to-day tells only by ruined rvalls and partially- filled moats and fragments of Irroken columns any story of its former glory in tbe d«iys of Philij), the tetrarch of Galilee. Its location is delightful, upon a kind of table-land from the •Iordan valley or natural terrace of the mountain. It is one thousand, one hundred and fifty feet above the sea -level. Streams of water flow down from the vallej^s which slope away into the mountains until the rocky soil all about is made luxuriant with vegetation. Remains of broken col- umns which we found scattered quite south of the present town show that it once had an extended anai. On the north and east are the great walls and remaining towers of drafted stones, outside of which runs a deep moat, once, no doubt, filled with water from the cave of Pan, which then must have flowed out of the great cave under the brow of the hill instead of from the ])ebbles and stones quite below it, as it now does. Three of these towers, built of immense stones, still remain. On the south the wall and ancient towers re- veal th(> strength and glory of the city of Christ s time. A COIXS. 333 gateway tlirough the wall still remains ami is in daily use. It leads out and across a great stone bridge which s])ans the chasm or moat outside the southern wall. SOUTHERN GATS OF C^ffiSAREA PHILIPPI. Some of theci)lunius and cai vcd pillars, no doubt of Pliilip's time, are built into this ancient structure. At difi'erent places about the old walls the Arabs were digging and sifting the dirt and dcbrii< in .search of ancient coins, or “antique,” as the boys called them as they came every morning and evening to our cami» to sell them. Some of these coins were of great antiquity and very rare, while others w(>re such as are (juite numerous in various collections. Most of them were of cop- })er; and how so large a number could have been lost is a wonder. Probably they w(*re thrown away by the emperors whose superscription they bear for the amusement and profit ^ of the poor on great occasions, and many of them thus re- mained unfound. On Sabbath we climbed over rocks through the rain and visited the cave of Pan, which is a huge cavern almost hidden \inder a cliff of the castle hill. The mouth of the cavern has been greatly filled up by the fallen rock, so that the water finds its way out through the rocks some distance from the cavern. The water is beautiful, and clear as crystal, and forms at once the eastern branch of the four sources of the Jordan. 334 THE HOLY LAND. Just to the east of this spring once stood the Temjjle of Pa- llium, scarcely a vestige of which remains. In the rocks are the votive niches whicli were once the altars of the tem- ple. They are about four or live feet high, two feet wide, and nearly a foot deep, being concave in form, wth a horizontal cut below. Above some of the niches the inscrijhion in Greek is clearly visible, — “ Priest of Pan.” On a ledge of rock jjro- jecting as a cliff a little distance from the site of the Temple of Herod, now stands a little iveli, or Mohammedan praying- place, which is the only sign of religious worship of any kind I saw at Ca'sarea. East of this fountain, and nearly one thousand, two hun- dred feet above the level of the site of the temple, is the ancient castle, nearly one thousand feet long and three hun- dred feet wide. Much of the castle is now in ruins, and its walls are fallen down. Tin? greatness of the drafted stone, and the lofty eminence on the hill, on either side of Avhich are deep valleys six hundred or more feet deep, show what a defense it was to the city in its time of glory ! Its sight may have sug- gested to Christ the declaration to Peter, “Ui)on this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell .riiall not prevail against it.” (Matthew xvi. 18.) Thirty or forty rude mud- houses, with a few others constructed in part of the stones of ancient Cicsarea, are all there is of Banias. It would be diffi- cult to imagine a more squalid, dirty set of beings, claiming to be human, than the half-clad women and children covered with dirt, who with tlie lazy men inhaliit these dirty huts built where once stood the proud city of Herod, and where once Titus celebrated his victories over Jerusalem, with feasts and drunkenness, and cruelty and death to captured Hebrews. Caesarea Philij)pi is more interesting to the Bible student on account of the visit Jesus made here under the peculiar circumstances whioh gathered around him. The shadow of the cross Avhich was ever before the eyes of Jesus, from his entrance upon his ministry to his dark betrayal and murder, was becoming more distinct. The hatred of the Jews daily increased. The heart of Christ became more and more ab- CHRIST AT C.ESAREA. 335 sorbed and his life more perfectly surrendered to his mis- sion. A great crisis was soon to overtake the little hand of Galilean disciples which had followed him in his path of poverty, toil, and love. lie must more fully unfold his char- acter to his chosen disciples. To them and to those who should believe on his name he must disclose the mystery ot godliness— God manifest in the llesh. They must understand his per.son and mission. “ When Jesus came unto the coasts of Cfesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, saying. Whom do men say that I, the Son of man, am ? ’’ When told that some held him to he John the Baptist, some Elias, and others Jeremiah, he askc'd them, “Whom say ye that I am?” (5Iat- thew xvi. 13.) Peter said, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Here then Jesus more fully revealed himself as the Sen of God, in all his divine nature. After this disclosure to his followers here at C'icsarea, Jesus h('gan “to shew unto his di.sciples, how that he must go unto Jeru.salem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day.” . (Matt. 21. xvi.) This was the great event in the life of Christ before his arrest. Here he was preparing his disci])les for that which as yet they did not understand. Here he told them plainly that if any man would come after him he must take irp his cross ami follow him ; and whosoever would save his life should lose it, and whosoever would lose his life for his sake should find it. ( Mark viii. 35.) Here he also told his disciples plainly that he should come again to judge the world. Thus filling up six days in teaching his disciples jdainly of himself, he took “Peter, James, and John his brother, and hringeth them up in a high mountain apart and was trans- figured before them; and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light. And, behold, there ap- peared unto them Moses and Elias talking with him.” (Mat- thew xvii. 1-3.) It was up the slopes of Hermon, I doubt not, that Jesus led his three di.sciples; and on one of the lofty peaks upon which our eyes looked again and again, covered with clouds, that “a bright cloud overshadowed them: and 336 THE HOLY land: behold a voice out of tlie cloud, uhicli said, This is mv be- loved Son in -sYbom I am well pleased ; hear ye him.” (Mark ix. 7 ; Matthew xvii. 5.) As I looked again and again upon Ilermon towering above all the heights of Palestine, and searched the Scriptures closely, the conviction increased that it was within the folds of the bright clouds hovering over Hermon that our Savior was transfigured, and not in Tabor, as has often been ccxiject- ured. Where in all the world was it more probable that Jesus would find shelter for six days than here at the head-waters of the Jordan ? He had come here to reveal himself to his disciples. During the “six days,” he Avas here delivering his Avonderful discourses, only a part of Avhich is given us in the sixteenth chajiter of MattheAv. Besides this, does not Mark tell us plainly after relating the accounts of the transfigura- tion, and the subsecjuent casting out of the “ dumb and deaf spirit” Avhich the disciples could not cast out, that “they departed thence, and passed through Galilee”? (Mark ix. 30.) Here then, along the stream Avhich forms one of the chief sources of the Jordan, or beneath some oliA'e-grove, the Savior disclosed to his disconsolate disciples the certainty, manner, and purpose of his decease a*t Jerusalem. Yonder in the shin- ing clouds on Hermon he shadoAA'ed forth to his chosen three his supreme glory Avhich Avas to follow. Here to beclouded intellects he showed the path out of sin and sorroAV. Yonder in the bewilderment of shining glory on the mountain he presented the gateway to that glory Avhich lies far beyond the peaks of Hermon. There is something sublimely fitting that these two rcA’elations should in the ministry of Christ thus lie side by side, — the one at the head fountain of the renowned Jordan and the other in the lofty king of mountcdns, — only a feAv miles aAvay. Here Peter voiced the belief of the disciples when he said, “ Thou art the Christ, the Son of God.” But in the glory of the Mount of Transfiguration yonder, Jesus shoAved to them in something of its fullness what this really meant. Here to the people Avho then lived within the Avails, whose ancient ruins Ave have climbed over and around from RAPHA EL ’S TEAXSFIG UR A TION. 337 one end to another, Jesus showed the great truth that “ who- soever will save his life shall lose it ; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel’s the same shall save it.’’ To the people of this then royal capital of Philip, as well as to his disciples, he propounded that of all questions the most momentous, “ For what shall it i)rofit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ?” As some trembled upon the verge of faith in his wonderful words he declared, '• Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed of me and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.” (Mark viii. 38.) Then in the mountain of transfiguration he manifested some- thing of what that gloiy was and what it should be. If Christ made but one visit to Ca-sarea Philippi, it was an illustrious one. It was not alone in his wonderful words and doctrines, and in the disclosure of his divine character and mission, nor yet in his transfigured glory on the mountain, that his majesty and power were made known. Raphael, in his masterpiece, which is the glory of the Vatican at Rome, in that inimitable picture, “The Transfig- uration,” places below the Redeemer, whose face shines with unearthly glory, and whose garments glow as the brightness of the sun, the group of astounded disciples who are seeking to cast out the lunatic devil from a poor tortured child, while the father of the child stands mournfully by. The glaring, torturous, piteous look of that child, whose great eyes gaze on the apostles, the deep solicitude of the father with his heart pierced through Avith painful love and desire, the bewildered, astounded countenances of the disciples and the look of the excited throng, are only surpassed and overshadoAved by the Avondrous glory and divinity of the artist’s transfiguration scene, presented at the top of the picture. Such is the mas- terpiece of Raphael, and such is indeed the Bible record. For here at Caesarea the Avonder-smitten disciples saAV more fully their own lack of strength and faith as they beheld the departure of the dumb spirit from tbe child at the bidding of 22 338 THE HOLY LAND. Christ, though it had refused to come out when they had com- manded it to do so. (Matthew xvii. 14-21.) Early tradition, and perhaj)s early history, relates that it was here at Ciesarea I'hilippi that the woman resided who was healed of an issue of blood which had afflicted her twelve years, by coming behind Christ and touching the hem of his garment. (Matthew ix. 20; Luke viii. 43, 44.) Eusebius has this record, “ At the gates of her house on an elevated stone stands a brazen image of a woman on her bended knee with her hands stretclual out before her like one entreating. Opposite to this there is another image of a man, erect, of the same material, decently clad in a mantle (diplois), and stretching out his hand to the woman. Before her feet, and on the same pedestal, there is a certain strange plant growing, which rising as high as the hem of the brazen garment, is a kind of antidote to all kinds of diseases. This statue, they say, is a statue of .Jesus Christ, and it has remained even until our times; so that we ourselves saw it whilst tarrying in that city.” (Eusebius, page 289.) To-day desolate ruins, broken-down walls, half-filled moats, and broken columns and pillars of stone scattered everywhere, listen to the gurgle and rii)ple and murmur of the pearly streams flowing through oleander-groves and under olive- shades, down to the waters of the winding Jordan! Here the weary feet of our loving Lord once trod, and here he un- folded the glory and richness of his love which prompted him to begin a life at Nazareth, like the stream bursting from the cave of Paneas, which flowing down the valley of ceaseless toil, at last plunged, like the Jordan, into the sea of death. From that death rose the hope of eternal life to a dying race! CHAPTER VIII. Clouds Lifting — Leaving Banias — Dan — Golden Calf — Mound of the City — Samson’s Foxes — llasbany — Derdarali — Mountains of Napb- tali — Kedesh — Cit3' of Refuge — Home of Deborah — Shepherds — Goats — Sheep — Bible Illustrations — Cl>rist tlie (Jood Sliepherd — Slieep-Fold Dividing the Sheep from the Goats — Skin Bottles — Incidents — Women Carrj'ing Water — Ilagar — Fat of Sheep — Bed- ouin Cloaks — Camp at Merom — Battle-Scene of Joshua. r ERIXG a stay of two days and three nignts at Ctesarea it rained almost incessantly. Amid the rain and storm several of our company pushed out th.rough f-'V the mud and examined all the places of interest. The rain was quite cold. Our horses and mules wej-e shel- , • tered in the great cave of Pan. In the (‘venings we gathered weeds and brush, and begged and hired some Arabs to carry us more; and with these our company kindled a fire in the midst of the camp, around which they gathered, as many as were able to be out, and talked of the promises of fair weather on the morrow. When Tuesday morning came the clouds were broken. AVhat a glad company ! Nearly one half of our company were really ([uite ill — too ill to travel. But all were ready for the saddle. Our wet, heavy tents and cam p-eqifi page were put on the mules’ backs, and we were off for the valley of the Jordan. All feared that the early rains (James v. 7) had set in; and if so, it was deemed quite well to be far away from lofty Hermon, whose cone piercing the skies seemed to ever invite the waters which produce the .sources of the Jordan. And long as memory lasts our little company of pilgrim tourists will remember their introduction to Palestine at Banias. 339 340 THE HOLY LAND. Our first object was to see the ancient site of Dan, the most northerly city of Palestine at the time of its occupancy upon Israel’s return from Egypt. The ride was down the idateau over steeps and rocks and through scrubby oaks which grow here, hut only to a small size. However, some of these in a good camp-fire while at Ca*sarea under the great olives would have chased the cold away from our hands and the damjmess from our feet. The clouds were lifting from old Ilermon, whose towering and dome-like form covered Avith snoAV we Avere leaving behind us, and we Avere promised a pleasant journey oiiAvard. The roads Avere \mry slippery. DoAvn these hills our horses slipped and slid and climbed over the rocks Avondrously. Here in a narroAV jiatli descending from the plateau to the loAver A’alley Ave met a caraA'an of camels going toAvard Ca'sarea. Probably th(‘y Avere going on to Damascus. AVhat huge, ugly, kindly, burden-bearing creatures they are. One ahvays looks at them with some degree of amazement. There one poor thing had slid doAvn Avith its great load upon it. Eflort after efibrt Avas made to get up, but it slipped doAvn every time. Poor thing, it baAvled so pitifully. How this long comj)any got up the hills is hard to tell. There Avere thirty camels, and they did not look as if they had enough to eat. Before us Avere the sharjA, rugged mountains of Naj^htali, a number of miles across the rough plain. Soon Ave Avere at the fountain, or source of the Jordan, at Tell-el-Kadi. Here is a mound eight or nine hundred feet in length and one third less in Avidth. On the top is a fine, large oak-tree, under Avhich is a IMohauiinedan tomb. This is the site of the ancient Dan, mentioned in the account of Abra- ham’s pursuit of the captors of Lot. (Genesis xiA". 14.) In Judges xviii. 27 it is called Laish. Our readers are fainiliar Avith the expression “ from Dan to Beersheba.” (I. Samuel iii. 20.) Beersheba AV'as the southern toAvn and Dan the north- ern city of Canaan. Thus the expression literally meant the AA’hole land. During the reign of “Jeroboam the son of Nebat Avho made Israel to sin,” an idol in the shape of a golden calf SAMSOX'S FOXES. 341 was set uj) here, and the people of Israel came to Dan and worshiped it rather than go to Jernsalem to worship the true God! P^or he “made two calves of gold, and said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem : behold thy gods, O Israel, which brought thee uji out of the land of Egypt. And he set the one in Beth-el and the other }uit he in Dan.’’ (I. Kings xii. 28, 20.) The location of this city in the jdain, richly supplied with abundance of water, is one of the most delightful tliat could have been cho.'^en, and it comes before us in history under the najiie of Laish, not less than fourteen hundred years before Christ ])assed this way to Cu*s- area Philij)])!. (See Judges xviii. 20.) It is now entirely uninhabited; and if the traveler cares to push through the cane-brake and groves (jf oleanders, he can thoroughly exam- ine the mound containing the ruins of ancient Dan, with no interference from any one seeking backshi-Ai. From under (his mound rises a vast stream of water, larger than that from the Cave of Pan at Ca’sarea. This is considered to be the chief source of the Jordan. Farther on Ave came in sight of a thicket of oleanders, in Avhich Ave di.scoA'ered another stream springing up among basaltic rock. These streams unite a little lower down and form the El-Lcddan, or Little Jordan as Josephus called it. Crossing the stream, Avhich is easily forded, we had a fine A'iew of the pasture-lands before us and soutliAvard down the .Jordan. Among the annoyances ex- perienced at Ca*s- area Philippi, and other places by night, was the howling or cry- ing or scream- JACKAL - SAMSON’S FOX. iHg of jackals. Sometimes they came down close to our camp and woke up all the company, and kept up their hideous howling fiw 342 THE HOLY LAND. lionrs. 1 had much anxiety to know what kind of creatures they could be that made such a hideous noise, which is un- like anything from brute or human with which my ears have ever been saluted. Just after passing the ruins of Dan, one of these jackals, half like a dog and half like a fox, jumped up before us and leisurely scampered over the plain to the thicket of oleanders. It is seldom that they can be seen in the day-time, though they are abundant. The jackal is near the size of the American fox, of grayish color, darker on the back, and with a heavy, bushy tail. The screaming, howling, 'barking, piercing, wailing cries of these nightly creatures sounded as if some animals of perdition had surrounded our camp! The jackal is known in the Bible by the name of fox. Samson, when robbed of his Philistine wife, caught three hundred of these creatures and tied their tails together two by two, with fire-brands, thus destroying the corn of the Philis- tines by fire. (Judges xv. 4, 5.) I had no feeling of destruc- tiveness to any one’s corn-field, but should not have objected to those nightly visitants being served in that way. Are these foxes mentioned in the Bible? Yes, a number of times. .Ter- temiah, in his picture of the desolation of Zion, says his heart was faint and his eyes were dim “ because of the mountain of Zion, which is desolated; the foxes walk upon it.” (Lamenta- tions V. 18.) Our Lord also mentions the fox in that sorrow- ful picture of his earthl}’- poverty when he said to the scribe, “Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.” (Matthew viii. 20.) A ride of about two miles from Dan, across the plain over a stony road, brought us to a bridge which crosses the stream Hasbany, which is the longest source of tlie Jordan. In le.ss than two miles more we crossed the Derdarah, a tributary of the Jordan. This route gave us a view of the four sources of the renowned river Jordan. The widest is about thirtj’’ feet, and the water is clear and beautiful. Directly in our front were the mountains of Naphtali. Reaching the foot-hills east of the mountains we turned CITY OF REFUGE. 343 southward toward Lake Iluleh, or waters of Merom. At this point we left the region of country over -which in ancient times trade and travel passed from Damascus to Tyre on the Mediterranean coast. A few miles in our front, before turning southward, lay Kedesh, one of the most noted cities in north- ern Palestine in its early history. It was once the seat of a j)owerful Canaan itish ruler, but was possessed by Israel and given to Naphtali nearly fifteen hundred years before Christ bore our sins on the cross of Calvary. Joshua, according to the commandment of the Lord, which promised, “ I will aj> point thee a place whither he shall flee” (Exodus xxi. 12-14), set apart Kedesh as one of the seven cities of refuge. He thus appointed Shechem, in the center of the land west of the Jordan, Hebron in the south, and Kedesh in the north. East of the Jordan were Bezer, Ramoth, and Golan. (Joshua xx. 7, 8.) These cities were Avell located, and so situated as to he equally accessible from any part of the land. The roads to them were to he unobstructed, so that any one who had slain his fellow might escape to them before overtaken by the avenger of blood. God’s government was provided so as to administer swift punishment upon the wicked. One liaving committed murder and effecting his entrance into Kedesh or any of the cities of refuge was free from the avenger, and was there given a fair trial. If the man-slayer was found guilty of willful murder he was surrendered to the punishment of death, but not until he had stood “before the congregation in judgment.” (Numbers xxxv. 11, 12.) If the murder was committed by accident, then the congrega- tion should “restore him to his city of refuge whither he was fled.” There he should remain until the death of the high- priest under whose ministration he entered the city of refuge. If, however, he should at any time before the death of the high-priest be found by the avenger of blood outside of the city he was sure to be slain. (Numbers xxxv. 24-28.) This provision was not to protect the guilty, but to allow protec- tion to the innocent and to afford opportunity for fair trial. That the refugee in the refuge-city must abide in the place 344 THE HOLY LAXD. of safety until the death of the high-priest beautifully figures forth the necessity of the death of Christ in order to the sal- vation of the sinner. Up yonder hill to Kedesh doubtless fled many a hard-])ursued man-slayer, seeking shelter from im- pending justice and death. Kedesh is scarcely less interesting on account of its being the home of Debora ihe j)rophetess, who judged Israel. (.Judges iv. 6-9.) Among Bible characters she stands out as one of the unicpie. The courageous, noble, patriotic, eloquent wife of Lajiidoth, not desirous of reaping a glory which might have been won alone by Barak, gathered Zebulun and Xaphtali in this mountain city Ke-fold is a low inclosure built of stone and covered so as to protect the hocks from thieves and wild beasts. There are small doors oiiening into this fold. It has a court in front, also surrounded b}' a stone wall. It was doubtless from this same structure that .Jesus drew liis illus- tration so familiar to the shepherds, when he exclaimed, “ He that entereth not by the door into the shee]>-fold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber. But he that entereth in the door is tlie sliepherd of the sheep.” (John X. 1, 2.) Most of the goats of Palestine are black, and very black, but some have spots of wliite on them. As I saw these black creatures here and there striped and spotted, I remembered the strategy of Jacob with his father-in-law, Laban, when the “spotted and .speckled” of the goats and the cattle were to be his hire after the years of service for Rachel and Leah had been completed. (Genesis xxx. 32.) These goats of to-day are doubtless the same in kind that were owned by Jacob, three thousand six hundred years ago. The goat of Palestine now is of great value to the people for the milk produced, which is a large part of the sustenance of most of the people, and for the skins which are much used in many ways. The skins of goats fill the place of kegs, barrels, jugs, buckets, SKIN BOTTLES. 347 churns, etc., in our country. These skins are removed from the animals as nearly whole as possible, and then tanned with the hair left on them. They are then sewed up entire, the head, and legs from the knees down, only being taken otf. One opening is left, usually the end of one of the legs ; and this is the ‘‘bottle” of the Bible record. Christ said, “ Xeither do men put new wine into old bottles : else the bottles break, and the wine runneth out.” (Matt. ix. 17.) While the skins are new they are not only strong, but elastic, and can endure the fermentation of wine ; but when old they become harder and more brittle, and the ferment of wine would quickly burst them, destroying both bottles and wine. These large goat- skin bottles are used to carry water from the fountains to the towns and villages. The women tie several of them together across the back of a camel and thus they are carried to town. I often saw two of them carried in the same manner on a don- key. They are scarcely less frequently carried by the women. As I often looked upon some barefooted woman, poorly dressed, bearing one of these huge leathern bottles on her shoulder, there came .to mind the pitiful and sad scene wliich occurred at the tent-door of Abraham, nearly four thousand years ago, when he dwelt in the valley of Mamre, and sent Hagar and her child away into the wilderness. I thought I could see Abraham lifting to Hagar’s shoulders one of these bottles filled with water, and then watching her turn away in the morning twilight toward the wilderness of Beersheba. For ‘‘Abraham rose up early in the morning, and took bread, and a Vjottle of water, and gave it unto Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, and the child, and .sent her away.” (Genesis xxi. 14.) It is not a little amusing to see one of these bot- tles when filled, looking like a large, fat, black hog, lying on the ground or .suspended in the air, while a woman beats, kicks, and rolls it about in a terrible manner. One of our company noticing such a curious performance asked what it meant. He was not a little surprised when he was in- formed that the woman was churning. The milk is put into this bottle and pounded until the cream is converted into butter. 348 THE HOLY LAND. The sheep of Palestine are about the ordinary size, and of the ordinary appearance and -wool coating, except that they liave long, broad, heavy tails of fat, which usually are about four inches wide, and sonietiines a foot long. This heavy, fatty tail seems to becpiite burdensome to tlie sheep; but it is of great service, as it is rendered and used in the place of lard. This fat with olive-oil is the supply of fat for all cu- linary purposes. In tire arrangements made Avith Israel for a peace-offering the priest Avas instructed to take Avith the kidneys and other portions of the lamb offered, “the fat thereof, and the Avhole rump, it shall he take off hard by the back-bone,” (Leviticus iii. 9,) for an “offering made by fire unto the Lord.” Doubtless this “rump” AVas the fat tail. The flesh of the sheep is much used as food, and the skins are tanned Avith the avooI and used for cloaks. In the toAvns we passed and the companies of men Ave met I saAV many of the cloaks of sheep- skin, and also of goat-skin. The Bedouin cloak is universally Avorn by the people who dAvell in tents. They are also made of cotton and camel's- hair, and are of fanciful, striped colors. The common people wear the simple black and white striped cloak. This is their clothing by day and their coA^ering and bed by night — and so it Avas thousands of years ago. In the laAvs given b}’ Moses it was particularly specified that if this cloak Avere taken as a pledge or security of a neighbor, it Avas to be returned by the time “that the sun goeth down ; ” and this because it was his coA'^ering, and his raiment for his skin, in Avhich he should sleep. (Exodus xxii. 26, 27.) This is no doubt the same kind of a garment called a mantle, worn by Elijah and subse- quently by Elisha, AA’ith which both these prophets smote the waters of the .Iordan and thcA’ divided asunder. CAMP AT MFAIOM. 349 Amid such hourly and almost constant reminders of the fact that we were in the land of the Bible, and that about us on every side were facts and features which proved that the Bible could have been written amid no other surroundings, we slowly turned our faces southward, journeying along at the base of the mountains of Naphtali. To the right in the rocky steeps of the hills are great rock-tombs which evidently were prepared ages ago. Some of them are so large that they are used as siielters for sheep and goats. In the valley are to be seen mounds which are ruins of cities. After passing the corn-region in the upper valley, we found the region above and about the waters of iNIerom, or Bay of Iluleh as it is sometimes called, a vast swamp covered with cane, oleanders, and rushes. This entire valley is occupied by the Bedouins, who are a wild, gypsy-like people. They do not build houses but live in tents. We passed several camps of these people. One of these camps contain-ed not le.'ss than two hundred tents. Some are made of rushes or reeds, others of cloth made of the hair of goats. They are nothing more than a few stakes driven "into the ground and small poles put on them and the cloth or rougli mats spread upon them. They contain sei)arate compartments for the women, who seem to live outside of them more than in them. The dirty, half- naked children came after us for harhshUh. The men are strong and hand- some. The women, unlike those of most countries, are ugly, though stout-looking. These camps are usually at considera- ble distance from water, and the women are employed much of the time in carrjdng water and in washing their clothes. Besides the goat-skins, the women also use great earthen jars, holding several gallons of water, carrying them always on their head, with a little pad on the head to keep the water-pot from hurting the head or to help balance the jar. In the evening we found our camp pitched beside the waters of Merom, at the north-west border of the lake on the bank of a pretty stream coming down from a number of fount- ains in the adjacent plateau of hills. The lake is triangular in shape, about four miles long and over three miles in width 3.50 THE HOLY LAED. at the widest place. It is about two hundred and seventy feet above sea-level, and abounds with water-fowls, large num- bers of pelicans and wild ducks finding shelter in the papy- rus, which forms a perfect jungle about portions of the lake. Tliese ducks are coarse, and regarded as very poor food, though some of the Bedouins followed ;is with a half dozen or more of them, trying to sell them to us. As we got off our burses, tired from the long ride of the daj', and sat dowm in our tent-door, two burly Bedouins, w'ell armed wdth shot-guns, sat on the opposite side of the little brook watching our camp suspiciously. I w'as reminded that it w'as just here by these Avaters of Merom, and no doubt close to these springs, that the hosts of all the people under Jabin, King of Hazor, Jobab king of Madon, and the kings of Shimron, and Achshaph, and those north of Hermon, and those of the south and west, the Canaanites, Amorites, Ilittites, Perizzites, and other people Avere assembled and camped Avith horses and chariots, even in numbers as the sands upon the sea-shore. (Joshua xi. 1-5.) Here all these kings Avere met aird pitched together to fight against I.srael. Here on this plain Joshua, encouragecV by the Lord, came against the mighty hosts by the Avaters of Merom and fell upon them suddenly: and the Lord delivered them into the hands of Israel, Avho smote them and chased them until there were none left; and upon these plains .Toshua houghed their horses and burned their chariots Avith fire. (Joshua xi. 6-9.) I took time to examine a rude mill, situated a distance up the stream, and early sought rest in the tent, still Avet from the previous rains. CHAPTER IX. Leaving Meroni — Gazelle — Stork — From Lake Huleh to Sea of Galilee — Khan Yusef — View of the Sea of Galilee — The Scene of Jesus’ La- bors— Choraziu — Capernaum — Ruins of a Synagogue — Christ’s Woe on the Cities — His Boundless Invitation. i; iWr A he morning of the 9th of November our company i Mi i started early from our eamiiing-place by the waters of Merom, for the “ .sea-side,” where we hoped to camp ’by the Sea of (lalilee. At the first there was a drizzling rain ; but in a few hours the clouds were lifted, and the sun soon dried our wet clothing. To our left the lake lay in full sight for a good while. The plain is now fertile as we go on southward, (treat quantities of sweet-fennel, almost as high as our h(>ads Avhen on horseback, grow in many places. A beautiful gazelle was chased up before us as our dragoman headed the way across field after field. Some of our company impulsively gave the gazelle a chase, but it was soon out of sight. I .saw a number of them in different parts of Palestine. They are the same in color and form as the American deer, though somewhat smaller and more slender. They have been found here in all historic times, and are known in the Bible by several names. They always reminded me of the descrip- tion of Asahel, the .son of Zeruiah, who “ was as light on foot as a wild roe.” (IT. Samuel ii. 18.) He must have been much more fleet than our hor.ses, for these gazelles were always soon beyond our reach. Farther on we came quite close upon a naif dozen storks. What fine-looking birds they are! They are as large as our American turkey, very neat, with beautiful white breast and head and bla(dc wings The psalmist speaks of the stork as 352 THE HOLY LAND. having the fir-tree as the jilace of its nest. (Psalms civ. 17.) In ancient Ephesus I saw the nest of one of these storks upon the licight of an old ruin. The journey down the val- ley of the Jordan is a delight- ful one. The distance from Lake Iluleh to the Sea of Gal- ilee is about eleven miles, di- rect, and the width of the A’allcy here is iirobably six miles, though broken by hills some miles below the lake. After riding two hours we came uj)on stony hills 2)roject- ing from the mountains into the valley. Close to our right rise mountain ridges high and sharp. By ten o'clock we were at K/inn Jubb Yu.'h was thrown into a 2^it his brethren. After examining the buildings we rode aside some distance uj) a steej) hill to .‘^ee the j)it into which Jose2>h was thrown. It is a large cistern or well cut deep in solid rock. Of course it is well known that in those early days the Hebrews ke2)t their flocks in the south of Pal- estine and not here above the Sea of Galilee. In a few moments more we had ascended another rocky ridge, when in the distance before us I caught my first view of the Sea of Galilee, nestled between the mountains. The clouds had dispersed, and the waters of this lake, hallowed by so many sacred memories, glistened like a sea of glass before us. It seemed hut a mile or two away, so clear Avas the atmo.s- phere. Almost the entire form of the lake Avas in sight at a single glance. To our right Avere the rugged hills of Galilee. Scanning closely the hills to the right of the sea far around its side, Ave could readily discover the toAvers and Avail of Tiberias. To the left, or east of the sea, the mountains of Gadara toAvered up more abruptly, and to the height of almost SEA OF GALILEE. 353 two thousand feet. A soft stillness brooded over tlie waters of the hallowed sea. Not a boat was in sight. What a quiet contrast with the teeming throb of life about this sea the last time Jesus was here in person, after his resurrection from the dead. I can not describe the emotions of my enraptured heart, when, indeed, I saw the Sea of Galilee not in a picture, not 'in a fancy dream, but there in all its real loveliness, and tender, hallowed memories spread out like a sea of glass. Scarcely a ripple a2)pearcd on its smooth bosom sparkling in the full splendor of the noonday sun. We hurried the speed of our horse.s, passing by the ruins of ancient Chorazin, where once mighty works of Christ were performed. The curse fell upon it, and now its desolate ruins remain the mementos of the woe which befell it in the times of its sorrow. (Mat- thew xi. 21.) It is now a desolate mass of basaltic, rocky ruins, almost three miles distant from the Sea of Galilee. This route from Khan Jvbb Yti-sef is a romantic and often even a wild ])uth. The eye is surpri.sed at the great quantities of honey-combed limestone rock, which pile up in tixanendous hills. Slowly over rough paths we hunted our Avay down steep dc'seents, until we had reached the lands bordering on the northern edge of the Sea of Galilee. Though we passed over several miles of rough basaltic stones, mingled with round, weather-worn limestones, we found the land just north of the lake sloping gently down to the shore composed of rich s(;il, though thickly intermingled with stone. There is no place in all the Holy Land where such a crowd of memories and emotions rush upon the soul as beside the Sea of Galilee. There are places of deeper pains and sorrow ; there are spr)ts where wild battle-scem's come to the imagina- tion ; there are scenes of deeper isolation ; but here as nowhere else the mind mingles in the sweetest memories of the life of our loving Lord. Here the Savior found the sphere of his wonderful mission. Driven from his native Xazareth, and too much hated by the proud religionists of Jerusalem to labor there, he chose the shores of this sacred water and the cities and country lying around this inland sea as the field 2.3 354 THE HOLY LAND. of his ministry and the scene of his many wonderful works. Here, pressed by eager throngs, he sat in a boat on the wa- ter’s edge, Avhile the narrow plain and abrupt liill- sides were crowded with tlie peasantry of Galilee, eager to listen to the sweet, tender words of love, power, truth, and salvation brought from the Father and dressed in tlu; sim})le language of the peasantry, and iiiiageil forth with rapturous beauty in all the facts of nature a'nd life surrounding them. The fields, the flowers, the sower as he went out into the plain of Gen- nesaret, the mountains and valleys, were all made to speak the wonderful words of life. Tlie shores of this little sea were SEA OF GAlaLEE FROM THE NOR III. crowded with cities, containing an immense pojmlation. These were the common peojile, and were perhaps better prepared to hear and receive the neiv gospel than any to whom Jesus could have sjioken. Their religious prejudice was h'.ss intense, and their life was more Retired than that of the southern or more western coasts of Palestine. The retirement and artlessness of this place and its pi'ople are all in kei'ping with the spirit of the Master. The place was free from the memo- ries of conflict and battle. The population embraced men of various occupations and callings. It ojiened to Jesus all classes of the people, but chiefly those to whom he had mo.st to reveal. And yet the heart feels an oppre.ssion of solitude along the shores of this sweet water. Jesus must have often SEA OF GALILEE. 355 experienced a sense of awful loneliness in the years of his earthly life. There were only a few who understood him and his charaeter, or sympathized with his wonderful ministry to man. This solitude in the life of Christ is deepened hy these hills whieh tower up around the patlis and valleys and cities in whieh he walked and toiled and taught the sorrowing and suffering sons and daughters of men. Standing by the placid waters of this miniature sea over whieh Jesus often was driven along hy the wind in a little sail- boat; looking over this bo.som of water nestling down between mountain ranges from which temj)ests and .storms swept against the poor fishermen until the waves went over them and their ves.sels were filled witli water ; listening as if seeming to hear again the voice of the Master saying to the winds and waves, I’eace, l>e still,” when there was a great calm ; lifting the eyes to tliat plateau, or table-land, north and east of the lake wliere lie fed the hungry thousands with a L-w thin barley-cakes and fishes; climbing over the ruins of the ancient synagogue into udiich Jesus so often entered and where some of his marvelous mir- acles were wrought, one experiences a profound sense of the real life of Christ on earth Avliich comes to him nowhere else on the globe. Every wave of the sea stealing out on the gravelly beach, every whisper of the wind floating down from the hill-sides, has a voice whieh speaks tenderly to the soul as one stands beside the Sea of Galilee and reads the simple story of the evangelists as they tell of the life of Him who hal- lowed these shores with his divine pre.sence and ministry. Deeply interesting and tenderly impressive as is all about the Sea of Galilee, there are few places where the specific loca- tion of cities is in greater uncertainty. Tiberias and Magdala, with Bethsaida Julius on the east of the Jordan, are the only cities about the sea the location of which is determined with certainty. The precise location of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, in which the mighty works of Christ were wrought, is much disputed, and learned persons who have given all possible attention to the consideration of all the information coming down to us from ancient times find not a few objec- 356 THE HOLY LAND. tions to determining the location of Capernaum at any of the sites believed by some to be authentic. Into these arguments I have no disposition to enter, nor does it come at all -within the purpose of this volume. I could not find sutHcient reasons to depart from the more generally received opinion that Tel Hum, nearest the mouth of the Jordan, is the site of ancient Capernaum. We took lunch one day at Tel Hum, amid the ruins of the supposed site of Capernaum, the head-ipuirters of the Savior during his ministry, called our Lord’s “ own city.” (INlatthew ix. 1.) This was the Lord's dwelling-place, for we are told that “ leaving Nazareth, he came and dwelt in Capernaum, which is upon the sea-coast.” (INIatthew iv. 13.) Here are the ruins of an old church, built largely of material which long ago formed some other structure. A hundred yards or more dis- tant from this huihling, which stands close to the edge of the KtriNS OF A SYNAGOGUE - CAPERNAUM. sea, are the ruins of an ancient synagogue of considerable extent. The granite-stone columns, pedestals, and fragments of marble columns and pillars which are_ scattered about in confu.sion, show it to have been long ago a structure of much importance. The foundation remains well preserved, and .shows its size to be fifty-seven by seventy-five feet. The building fronted to the south, and three doors opened into as many divisions of the synagogue. RUINS OF CAPERNAUM. 3.57 It is altogether probable that these are the ruins of the syn- agogue built for the Jews by the centurion in whose behalf the elders of the Jews came to Christ asking the healing of his servant. They pleaded the Savior’s help, saying, “That he was worthy for whom he should do this ; for he loveth our na- tion, and hath Iniilt us a synagogue.” (Luke vii. 4, 5.) 1 could but remember how vastly the worthiness of this centurion exceeded that of those who commended him ; for he was himself a deeidy-humble man and a mighty believer in the power and divinity of Christ. All around Caj)ernaum are black ruins, which tell of the greatness and splendor which once were here. Yet so desolate are these that mucli dispute is held as to whether indeed this be the real site of ancient Capernaum, or of some other city. There are only a few rude houses six or eight feet high, with stone and mud walls, and Hat mud-roofs. A number of half-clad Arabs were upon these root’s fixing the mud, which the women and children were carrjdng to them. Of course this business was being carried jn with the hands and the feet! Two Mohammedan tombs, large enough to contain many dead, stand at the north of the town. Upon visiting these we found a number of half-grown children, of delicate features and pleasing countenance, around the tom’os, who saluted us with the usual j)lea for backshi^th. Close to the spot where our company took lunch is a solitary palm-tree, the only green thing in all the ruins of Capernaum ! How could we forget the ministry of Jesus here? How often he came in from the hill country of Galilee and found shelter in the house of Simon Peter, and a little rest from the weaid- .someness which must often have oppressed him! If this be indeed Capernaum, then these ruins are those of the syna^ gogue into which Jesus .so often entered. Here at his words unclean spirits cried out and departed from those they had long held in bondage. These ruins closest to us doubtless are on the site of the house of Peter. Once all about it the ex- cited throngs passed here and there to see the wonderful young man from over at Nazareth, and to behold his miracles, while there on the top of tl?e house the friends of a poor palsied 358 THE HOLY LAND. man tore up the tiling and k-t the invalid down through the liole in the roof to where Jesus Avas, to he healed by his tender Avords, “ Son, thy sins he forgiven.’’ “ Arise, take up thy bed and go thy Avay into thine house.” (Mark ii. 1-12.). 1 find the folloAving in luy diary of events and travel : “How can I get aAvay from Capernaum and the memories which min- gle here? Was not this the home of our Savior during the three years of his ministry ? Hoav mueh he did, hoAV much he taught, hoAV much he must have suffered in spirit here! And just a feAV feet aAvay from Avhere I am sitting on the ground is the edge of the beautiful Sea of Galilee. There are wild foAvls, at Avhich some of our company fire a feAV harmless shots. In these placid Avaters beautiful fishes skip and float and play; ami just here Peter once cast a hook to catch a fish in whose mouth Avas a coin sufficient to pay the Roman tribute exacted of Peter and his illustrious and heavenly Mas- ter. Was there ever a life on earth so poor as that of Jesus? Was there ever a life Avith such resources as his? What a privilege to be here amid these memories of our Lord ! And yet hoAV sad the solemn history aa Inch folloAved the illustrious life and deeds of Jesus here; for with all the gracious AA'ords of his Avhich come to us from Capernaum, Avho can forget those words of aAvful woe and warning? And here amid the desolate ruins of Capernaum, these Avords come up Avith pon- derous force ; ‘ And thou, Capernaum, Avhich art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought doAvn to hell : for if the mighty works Avhich have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it Avould bave remained until this day. But I say unto you, That it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment, than for thee.’ (Matthew xi. 23, 24.) “ Jesus the Savior had become the Judge of those Avho would not receive him as their Redeemer and Lord. These desolate and deserted shores, and these lone, blackened ruins around me are such a comment on the Avoe pronounced by Christ as I had not thought to see. Here where eager thousands pressed close after the loving Son of God, now only the bare feet of Avandering Bedouins come in their solitary tread ! Here Avhere CHRIST’S BOUNDLESS INVITATION. 359 wondrous tlirongs of living hearts were touched by the sweet words of Jesus, now are only the black ruins of cities centu- ries buried in forgetfulness! Awful judgment has been here, and swept away the tide of life and love and prosperit}’, and has left only the darkest ruins, desolation, solitude, and reign- ing silence and death, amid which I gather up the memories of a once balmy and glorious day. No wonder that the bitter ■woe of Christ against Chorazin, Bethsaida, and C;ipernaum, as he, looking down the vista of years, saw its accomplish- ment, broke dowji his heart and caused it to brood once more over the doomed cities. It was more than Jesus could endure. And with the fearful doom and destiny rising before his vision, he gathered their miseries, their woes, and their sins to his own .sorrowing heart once again, and stretching out his arms of boundless compassion he exclaimed, ‘Come untome, all ye that labor and are heav\' laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’ (Matt, xi. 28-30.) Who could stay away from the bosom of such a Christ! I see him now as never before, with eye.s, and tears, and words, and welcomings filled with the love of ten thou- sand impassioned hearts, all in one. He holds back the tide of every sorrow and every sin with one arm, and with the other he draws me to himself. By the toils of his life about this deep sea, by the sweat of blood in Gethsemane, by the dying throes of the cross, by the ceaseless, burning, throbbing love of his heart which beat on for me through it all, and still pleads for me before the Father’s throne, he draws me out of myself and into his bosom! What soft •whisper, deep and delicious like a ze]>hyr from the throne of God is this that sweeps through my own bosom, and there with ten thousand voices echoes, ‘Come unto me/’ Behold, it is the voice of Jesus. My Lord and my God ! Thou hast been standing here, but I ‘knew not that it was Jesus.’ Behold thou hast said, ‘Come and dine;’ thou hast given bread even unto me.” CHAPTER X. Leaving Capernaum — Safed — Citj'on a Hill — Springs — Papyrus — Beth' saida — Bethsaida Julius - Plains ofGennesaret — Lessons of the Land of Gennesaret — Oleander Groves— Magdala — Tomb of Mary Magda- lene— Ride along the Lake — Tiberias — Bed-Sick — Home of Herod — Iniquitj' of the Palace — City of Jewish Honor — Mishna — Ancient City — View of the Sea — Size of the Sea oi Galilee — Stortns — Mount- ains around the Lake — Steep Place — Bath in the Sea — Fishes — Leav- ing Tiberias — Last View of the Sea of Galilee. ROM C'apei'naum our way lay along tlie north-west shore of the Sea of Galilee. Far up to the riglit in full view lies Safed, upon the slope of the mountain, ering over all the cities of Galilee. It is not men- tioned in the Rihle narrative, and whether or not Christ i ever visited it is not known. It lies ;it a distance of ;dx)ut ten miles north-west from Capernaum. Nearly all the cities, towns, and villages of the entire land were built upon some lofty elevation. Our Savior, in his wonderful discourse on the mountain just west of the Sea of Galilee, said to his disciples, “Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill can not be hid.” (Matthew v. 14.) Mdiether Safed yonder was in his thought in that beautiful illustration we can not tell ; but surely from his position on the mountain it was in full view, and would readily lend marvelous force to his words as they fell on the ears of his disciples. It stands on an emi- nence of three thousand four hundred and fifty-five feet above the bosom of the Sea of Galilee, and as I gazed upon it again and again seated on its lofty throne, those beautiful words of Christ came back over and over again, “ A city that is set on a hill can not be hid;” and then as never before I saw the beauty and force of those utterances of the Savior. Safed 3fi0 BETHSAIDA. 361 has an important position in the history of the Jewish wars as well as the crusades. A, ride of about a mile from Capernaum brought us to a beautiful sj)ring, of which all were inclined to drink. The water, beautifully clear, we found to be jdeasant, though a little saltish and tepid. Near by we found a number of springs. Large quantities of pai)yrus grow here. It is a kind of reed growing to a height of eight or ten feet. It has a naked, trian- gular, soft cellular stem, almost as thick at the lo\yer part as one’s wrist, but tapering to the top and crowned with a cluster of long, sharp-keeled leaves. The papyrus is rarely to be found anywhere else in Palestine. The ancient Egyptians manufac- tured a kind of paj>er from its inner bark, which was of great reputation in ancient times. Some specimens of the papyrus used for writing by the Greeks and Romans and exported from Egypt in great quantities, are yet in existence. A quarter of a mile farther west we came upon extended ruins surrounded by sj)rings and swam})}’ groves of })a})yrus which mark the traditional site of Bethsaida, which was the early home of Peter, Andrew, and Pbili}); for John tells us that “ Philij) was of Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter.” (John i. 44.) Here these illustrious disciples of our Lord were born and reared, unconscious of the place they were to have in the sal- vation of the world. Beside these springs of water, and even this place occupied by these ruins, Jesus often walked. We reached Bethsaida by riding a long distance through a channel cut in the solid rock on the hill-side. Much of the way it is about six feet deep and about four feet wide. It was probably an aqueduct to carry water to the plain at some re- mote perif)d. A rude mill built of ancient ruins is turned by Avater from the s}>rings. There was another Bethsaida. This one on the west side of the sea and close by the borders of the plain of Gennesaret, is not to be confounded with Bethsaida Julius, situated on the east of the Jordan, and to the north-east of the Sea of Galilee. It was enlarged and adorned by Philip the tetrarch, and named after Julia, the daughter of the emperor. It was close 362 THE HOLY LAND. to thig Bethsaida that Christ fed the five thousand of the Aveary multitude with five loaves and two fishes, in “ a desert place belonging to the city called Bethsaida.” (Luke ix. 10.) Into the same city the people brought unto him a blind man, beseeching that he touch and heal him. Jesus led him out of Bethsaida by the hand and healed him Avith the touch of his moistened fingers, bidding him not to return to the city, but to “ go away to his house.” (Mark A’iii. 22-26.) It is hard to turn away from Capernaum and Bethsaida, Avhile the memo- ries of the love and life and miracles of Jesus linger in the heart. Of the thirty-six miracles Avrought b}" the Master, eight at least Avere performed at Capernaum and four at Beth- saida. It Avas here that the blind opened their eyes at his bidding, the lame Avalked and leaped at his command, dumb devils Avere cast out by his pOAver. Great draughts of fishes Avere taken Avhen he directed the nets. The palsied forms Avere made sound, as he spoke tenderly the Avords of healing. The unclean sj)irit in the synagogue Avas rebuked by the blaster and came out of the man. The dead daughter of Jairus there at Capernaum Avas brought back to life Avhen Jesus took her by the hand. And there the “Avithered hand” was at his Avord restonnl Avhole as the other. Was it not here at Bethsaida that Jesus shoAved us hoAV to regard the grand- mother in the home, by destroying the raging fever from Avhich the mother of Peter's Avife Avas dying, by kindly touch- ing her hand? Here amid these memories I realize as never before that Jesus “himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.” Here after his resurrection from Joseph’s tomb he communed Avith his disciples as he had done aforetime, in the same body in Avhich he noAV appears to the saints above, and in AA'hich — oh, blessed thought, — Ave shall by and by see him eye to eye and face to face. Yonder in the heavens to Avhich he has gone our life and all its scenes shall be as real a.s this plain and these surrounding hills and this deep, lovely Sea of Galilee, on wdiich the feet of Jesus once miraculously Avalked to his disciples. From Bethsaida, on the Avest side of the sea, Ave rode across PLAIN OF GENNESARET. 363 the plains of Gennesaret, a most delightful expanse of level land stretching around the borders of tlie lake for three miles, and extending away from the water almost two miles at the widest point. Great fioeks of cattle, sheep, and goats feed on the plain and shelter in the groves of oleanders. Tliis is “ the land of Gennesaret,” into which Jesus and his disciples came that terrible night when the disciples “in the midst of the sea” were tossed by the contrary winds unto the “ fourth watcli of the night,” after which Jesus came to them Avalking on the crested waves of the storm-driven sea, saying, “ It is I; be not afraid.” (Mat. xiv. 27 ] 34.) I'rom tliis whole region the sick were carried on beds to Jesus as soon as they heard that he w'as come, “and whithersoever he enten-d, into villages, or cities, or country, they laid tlie sick in the streets, and besought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment : and as many as touched him were made whole.” (Mark vi. 56.) This plain is one of the finest spots in all Palestine. To it the “sower went forth to sow," as described in the parable of our Lord uttered at Capernaum. (Matthew xiii. 1-23.) In it the tares sprung up amid the wheat until the servants of the householder wished to go and gather them up. (Matthew xiii. 24-30, and 36-43.) It was here that the hu.sbandman put in the sickle because the harvest was come. (Mark iv. 29.) In this beautiful plain sprung up the “grain of mustard-seed, which a man took, and sowed in bis field,” which grew so lux- uriantly that it became a tree in which the fowls of heaven took shelter, though that seed was the smallest of all the seeds sown in this fertile plain. Thus did Jesus here admit to his disci])les that the kingdom of heaven and the influences of grace were small in their beginning, but showed them that the i)rinciples of life and growth w'ould make them the j)rotec- tion of the nations of the earth. (Matthew xiii. 31, 32.) Doubtless it was thus from this beautiful land of Gennesaret that the Savior drew those blessed parables so full of j>recious instruction. Now groves of oleanders in full and beautiful bloom appear on either side of the way for a great distance as we ride along a little way from the sea. I [jlucked some of 364 THE HOLY LAND. their beautiful clusters of bloom and rode on to Magdala, just at the southern end of the plain. Magdala nestles close under the steeji hills which project down by the water’s edge. This is the home of Mary Magdalene, to whom Jesus first appeare 1 after his resurrection, and to the .ose the present town of Magdala. -Just before reaching it, as we rode along the .shore of the sea, we saw three fishing-boats, one or two of Avhich we tried to hire, with a view of making the' journey by water to Tiberias, where we were to camp ; but we could not effect a contract with the fishermen, and so continued our way on horseback along the western shore of the sea. Sometimes we were down in a nar- row plain close to the sea, and then again we climbed winding and narrow paths far up the rugged hills which project down to the sea. Thus as the sun was sinking below the hills of Gal- ilee, our eyes would sometimes look back upon the groves of oleander toward Bethsaida; then upon the rocky steeps to our right, cut and carved full of tombs; then far across the sea TIBERIAS. 365 to the hills of Gadara on the eastern side as their grayish shoulders were bathed in the rays of the setting sun. Then all the time here lay close to us on the left the calm sea, over whose shining bosom little waves and rii)ples played, while winding through the midst of the sea appeared the tortuous course of the Jordan, the waters of which How through the sea without commingling with it. Here and there the forms of clouds, which seemed like photographs, rested calmly on the bosom of the water. Here on this beautiful sea, shut in by these surrounding hills, the Savior often rode with his disci- j)lcs passing from one shore to the other. On these shores and heights the multitude thronged with eagerness to hear his wonderful words as he sat in a shij) and spoke to the crowd upon the shore. (Matthew xiii. 2.) And once here, when the affrighted disciples Avoke the iMaster Avho lay asleep in the hinder part of the ship, he calmed the mad billows by his gentle voice. And once- when their boat was tossed hard and long by the storm and Avaves, Jesus came to them Avalking on the crested water, one foaming billow after another bearing up the holy feet of the Son of God until the disciples kneAv it was their Lord. The surroundings of the Sea of Galilee are not so beautiful as those of some of the lakes I visited, but they are striking; and there is an air of beauty baptized in sacredness Avhich makes this spot enrapturing to the lover of Jesus. A ride of four miles from Magdala along the sea of Galilee brought us to the ancient city of Tiberias, noAV called Taberi- yeh. We rode through its northern gate and along one of its narrow, dingy streets to the southern end of the city passing out into the plain beloAv, and pitched our tents on a pretty, level spot of land on the shore of the sea a quarter of a mile south of the town. In all our journeying in the Holy Land, no such delightful spot Avas enjoyed. We were free from the fleas which inhabit Tiberias, and had before us the placid, calm blue Sea of Galilee. In the eA'ening as I came into the tent from a Avalk about the sea, I saw that, instead of my usual bed I had a pallet 366 THE HOLY LAND. on the ground. Somehow a bed-stead had been broken that day. Joseph came with sad jestures, saying, “ Bed sick, bed sick!’.’ I replied that he should give “ bed medicine; much medicine.” He only answered, “No, bed bad sick; bad sick!” And so the bed was sick; and after wandering along the peb- bly shore of the hallowed sea till far into the night, picking up a shell here and there, and turning over many hallowed thoughts and sacred memories of Him Avho once walked in Galilee, I was glad to sink to rest on the little pallet on the ground, assured that .Jesus was not far away. Tiberias was built l\y Herod Antipas, who murdered John the Baptist, and named it in honor of the Emperor Tiberius. Here Herod in his luxury and pride lived in adultery with Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, while the heroic messenger John the Baptist, bold to preach repentance, declared that this marriage was unlawful and wicked. Only those who have peculiar grace from God appreciate that most royal of all friendships which points out to us our faults; and Herod, filled with anger, imprisoned John in the Tower of Maehterus, east of the Jordan. .\nd here at Tiberias, in tlie royal palace, Salome, the daughter of Herodias, danced at the birthday feast of Herod, to his pleasure, until his rash oath was fulfilled in the murder of the noblest prophet of God to appease the wrath and revenge of Herod's incestuous wife. And here to Tibe- rias John’s “head was brought in a charger, and given to the damsel : and she brought it to her mother.” (Matt. xiv. 11.) Herod and Hcrodius were afterward banished to Spain by the emperor for conspiracy, where they died in friendless exile. Tiberias is now a walled town containing about three thou- sand inhabitaut.s, more than half of whom are Jews, while the greater part of the others are Greeks and Catholics. Its Avails are about tAventy feet high and soA'cn feet thick, but in'many places are fallen doAvn, having been greatly injured by the earthquake of 1837, in Avhich the entire city Avas av ell-nigh demolished and almost one half of its poinilation destroyed. There are four gates to the city — one on the north, one on the west, and one at the south, Avhile a fourth, on the east side, ANCIENT TIBERIAS. 367 opens upon the sea. The wall on the east side is built directly upon the sea-coast. Not less than eight strong, round towers strengthen the stone walls. Tiberias, after the time of Chidst, became a noted city in the history of this country. Josephus fortified it strongly in the wars he conducted, though the city was peacefully surrendered to Vespasian, who therefore allowed the .lews thereafter to reside here undisturbed. The Sanhedrim was ultimately brought here, and about A. D. 200 the re- nowned Jewish school, or .ludah Ilah-Kadosh, committed to writing and published the ancient Jewish traditional law known as the Mishna. Many learned rabbis lived here, and the tomb of the Jewish writer Maimonides, of the twelfth century, is still j’ointcd out in the -Jewish burial-ground a n;'le west of Tiberias. A mile couth of Tiberias are the cel- ebrated hot si>rings whieh burst from under the hills a hun- dred paces from the sea-shore. The temperature of the water is one hundn'd and thirty-seven degrees. The place is a great resort for ])crsons who seek the baths connected with the springs. The ancient city of Tiberias, no doubt, extended as far south as the.se springs. We found traces of ancient ruins all along the ])lain in which we Avere camped, which is from si.x hundred to one thousand feet wide. The Tiberias of to- day is an uninviting, dirty, squalid town, of Avhieh one soon secs (piite enough. One of our company Avas quite ill Avhile here. We semt to town for a -TcAvish doctor. A short, chunky, black-eyed doctor came to our camp and administered large doses of medicine. Our company had exhausted our supply and AA'ere an.xious to have* some other dependence on Avhich at least Ave could place our hopes. The little doctor was quite sanguine, and gave many good jjromises that the patient would be better in the morning. Quite as he promi.sed, our patient Avas much better Avhen morning came. The doctor was also much better off upon our leaving; for he had the shreAvdne.ss to make a liberal charge, Avhich though quite unreasonable Avas cheerfully paid. Here and there through the city a stately palm rears its lofty head. So far as i-! known, Tiberias Avas never visited by 368 THE HOLY LAND. our Lord, and yet it is the only city of his day on the Sea of Galilee which remains as a city to greet the anxious traveler. Probably the occasional residence of Herod here, with the conditions of gentile society, prevented the Savior's feet from ever treading its streets. Was our Master afi-aid of the mur- derer of -John the Baptist? Herod heard much of Clirist, and was anxious to behold some miracle performed by him (Luke xxiii. 8) : but thougli- the Lord stood before Herod at Je- rusalem at the time of his trial, and was questioned “ in many words,” yet “ he answered him nothing.” He was one, at least, of all Jesus met to whom he would not utter his gra- cious words. (Luke xxiii. 9.) The view of the Sea of Galilee, sometimes called the ‘‘ Sea of Tiberias'’ (John vi. 1; xxi. 1), and in the Old Testament “Chinnereth” (Numbers xxxiv. 11; John xii. 3), from the hill above Tiberias is delightful. The lake is, accord- ing to Lieutenant Conder, twelve and a half miles long, and at its widest point six miles. The greatest distance across it is almost opposite Magdala, while it becomes narrower at the south. Its level is six hundred and eigbty-two feet below the level of the Mediterranean Sea. It gradually deepens from the shore on either side, and at its greatest depth as measured by Lynch, is one hundred and sixty-tive feet. As in ancient times, so now, furious storms often rush down from the mountains upon the lake in a most fearful and terrific man- ner, greatly endangering the safetj" of any ships which may be on its waters. (Luke viii. 23.) Recent travelers have ex- perienced these sudden storms; but during our visit there was a perfect calm, even as when the Master “ rebuked the wind and the raging of the water : and they ceased, and there was a calm.” (Luke viii. 24.) On the east of the sea the mount- ains are somewhat higher and more abrupt than on the west, reaching a height of about two thousand feet. A narrow plain skirts the sea, setting the hills back a little wa}’ from the shore. Almost directly opposite Tiberias, on the eastern side, the mountain projects to the edge of the sea, and modern travelers identify this, with much and reasonable assurance. THE SEA OE GALILEE. 369 as the place where, “ Behold, the whole herd of swine ran vio- lently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters."’ (iMutthcw viii. 32 ; i\Iark v. 13 ; Luke viii. 33.) On the west side of the sea the hills rise more gradually and not to so great height as the mountains of Oadara. On the morning of Xovemher 10th I arose early from my pallet and sought agein the sea-shore. Taking a bath, I found the water warm and exceedingly pleasant. The gravelly heach, si»rinklt"d with shells, slopes gently down to the water’s edge, and for a great distance one can wade out into the sea VIEW OF THE SEA OF GALILEE FROM TIBERIAS. before it becomes deep enough to swim. The sea abounds with fish, which are caught in great numbers about the upper or northern end, where they are fed by the .Jordan. We jmr- chased a handsome mess of fish caught from the sea, by the “ fishermen of Galilee,” but have often eaten quite as good in America. From the Sea of Galilee we determined to hasten our course westward to Nazareth, the childhood home of Jesus. We rode through Tiberias northward a little way, and then ascended 24 370 THE HOTA' LAND. the hills toward the west. Some time before reaching the IMount of Beatitudes, we had our last view of the Sea of Galilee. Its smooth, broad, blue surface, nestled between the hills and mountains, sparkling in the rays of the ascending sun, lay like a mirror, reflecting in its bosom the memory of the walks, miracles, love, and .sorrow of Jesus, who once trod its shores, and whose teachings and miracles make it the most hallowi'd sea of the woi'ld. Driven from his native city, Naza- reth, he crossed these hills into the cities which lay ii})on the shore of tin* sea, and here began his wonderful ministry. Call- ing his disciples from among the fishermen of Galilee, he by day aiul night, on land and sea, among tlie living and the dy- ing and the dead, by his teachings, his miracles, and his love, showed himself to be the Son of God. Was it not here that he came again after the mystery and agony of death were past and he had risen from Joseph's new tomb, to meet his disci- ples who in their sorrow had gone hack to their old homes and former employment ! John adds a chapter to his gospel on puri>ose to tell the tender, touching story of Christ's ap- pearance to Peter, Thomas, Nathaniel, James, and John on the water, where they toiled all night but caught nothing. There hv the shore the disciples stood around the fire on which were the bread and fish which the}’ received from the Master, “knowing that it was the Lord.” (John xxi. 12.) There were other scenes awaiting me, yet it was with 3 sad heart that I turned my eyes from the Sea of Galilee! No- where else should I mingle again with such memories; no- Avhere else touch the paths so often trod by the footsteps of my loving Lord. Not even the view from Mount Olivet touched my heart to such tenderness as I felt when the thea- ter of the Master’s toil and teachings lay in such soft and mellow beauty before me. I sorrowed to turn from the last look of the Sea of Galilee, for upon its bosom, overspread with such hallowed memories, I should never look again ! “Oh, Galilee! sweet Galilee! Where Jesus loved so much to be; Oh. Galilee! blue Galilee! Come sing thy song again to me!” CHAPTER XI. ^lountain of Beatitudes — Women Riding — Cana of (ralilee— Christ’s First Miracle — Xobleman’s Son Healed — Water-pots — Well — Women Wasliing — Jonali’s Town — Tomb of Jonah — First View of Nazareth — Cliild-liome of Jesus — Population of Nazareth — Dress of Women — View from the Hill — Grotto of Annunciation — Sj’nagogue — Jesus Rejected — Brow of tlie Hill — At the Well — Bake-oven. y^'^^^j^FTER about an liour's rido front Tiltorias wo came upon a tiiblo-land or jdatoau, on wliicli in July, 1187, tlio Franks were defotitod in a fearful con diet l)y Sala- din. Rising above the itlatoau is a loftier bill, whieli It from its peculiar shape lia.s betm called tbo Horns of llattin. Since the time of the crusaders, this has been traditionally regarded as the mountain upon which Jesus preached his wonderful discourse. (Matthew v. 1.) I was compelled to regard much that I had read about the adapta- tion of this location to the discourse as (piite fanciful, yet doubtless it was somewhere upon one of the.se tallest points that Jesus deliverecl that most wonderful of all his di.scourses. For three hours we rode over hills and valleys poorly culti- vated. On our way we met a royal train traveling across the country. The pasha rode ahead, attended by his guards, while some distance behind came a great camel with a kind of frame and covering almost as large as a l>uggy-top upon its back, in which two nicely-clad ladies sat side by side, perched away up in the air. Our ride brought us to Cana of Galilee, the native toAvn of Xathanael (John xxi. 2), and the place honored by Christ in his attendance upon a mar- riage feast, and by the performance of his first miracle (-John ii. 1). “And the mother of Jesus was there.” She had only 371 372 THE HOLY LAND. a little more than three miles to come from Nazareth. It Avas also to this place that the nobleman from Capernaum came to meet the Savior, having heard that he Avas come from Galilee, and asked him to “ come down and heal his son ; for he Avas at the point of death.” (.John iv. 47.) Here the Savior healed the lad by the simple Avords, “ Thy son liveth.” So great and immediate Avas the cure, though Christ Avas many miles from the afflicted youth, that the nobleman on his Avay returning to Capernaum, met his serAuints coming Avith the blessed tidings Avhich Avere an echo of the Savior’s Avords, “ Thy son liA'eth.” (John iv. 51.) This is the only instance of a miracle by Christ performed AA'hen he Avas at so great a distance from the object of his compassion. Cana is noAV knoAvn by the name Kcfr Kenna, and is situated on the Avestern slope of a hill, having aliout forty or fifty stone houses, AvliitcAvashed so as to present a tasteful ajipearance. A Greek church teAvnty-five by fifty feet and fifteen feet high, near the lower edge of the town, claims to occupy the site of the dAvelling Avhere the marriage attended by Christ Avas held. Ba’ the door on the south side is the half of a Corinthian cap- ital in the wall, Avhile in a niche in the Avail hangs a little bell. The room Avitliin is a rude chapel, at one side of Avhich stand tAvo old stone mortars, holding about eight or ten gal- lons, said to he the identical “ Avater-pots of stone” (John ii. 6) in Avhich the Avater was turned into Avine. If one Avere disposed to accept the tradition, he Avould at once find trouble in the smallness of these stone tubs. John tells us that they held “tAvoor three firkins apiece” — from eighteen to tAA’enty- fiA’e gallons each, — while these are only half the required size. They are filled Avith Avater and used by the Greek priests for the immersion of children. Below the toAvn a little way is the A'illage spring. Near it is a large stone sarcophagus, into which women Avere pouring Avater while donkeys and cattle stood by drinking. From the spring a channel is Availed up Avith stone, having a stone bottom through Avhich the water flows slowly from the spring. In this channel and quite up into the spring women and children were engaged in Avashing their FIRST VIEW OF NAZARETH. 373 clothes, while others were filling their jars and bottles Avith the water and carrying it away to their homes. The wash- ing is done by putting the clothes in the water and getting on them and tramping them for awhile, and then laying them on a stone and pounding them with another smooth stone Avith all the might. Stout, ugly AA'omen and poorly-clad chil- dren Avere busy AA'ashing in this miserable manner. It is not at all to be supposed that clothes AA'ashed iii this AA’ay are ever made clean. A little Xvay from “Cana of Galilee” (there is another vil- lage tAvelve miles north of Nazareth called Ka-na-el-Jilil, — Kana) Ave took lunch in a splendid orchard of oli\'es, palms, and oranges. I Avas much surprised by a visit from a girl, probably fourteen years old, Avho came into the orchard from an adjoining dwelling and begged us for an English book. Upon examination Ave found that she could read English a little. Upon our questioning her she told us that she had been in the mission-school at Nazaretli a short time, and had learned to read English. She could also talk a little English. Tavo miles from Cana Ave came to El Meshhed, the native toAvn of Jonah, called Gath-hepber (II. Kings xiv. 25), and men- tioned in the time of .Joshua as belonging to the tribe of Zebulun. (Joshua xix. 13.) It is a pleasant town, much the same as Cana. We rode off to the left of the road a short distance to a stone structure, some ten or tAvelve feet .square. One si'le of the structure is open and the tomb Avithin is neatly AvhiteAvashed, Avhile close by is a lamp kept constantly burning. This, we Avere told, is the tomb of the Prophet Jonah. lie has several other tombs in this country. Contented Avith a -A-erv short time at the tomb of .Jonah, I reined my horse and hastened over the hills of Galilee, a mile farther on, when suddenly, looking southward and AvestAvard, a. half mile away, in a kind of coA'e, full in view lay Nazareth, the early home of our Lord. Its narroAV, wind- ing streets and neat Avhite dAvellings Avith flat roofs, mounted Avith little domes looking like great inverted saucers, pre- sented the most beautiful little city my eyes had looked upon VIEW OF NAZABETH. 374 CHILD-HOME OF JESUS. 37o in the Holy Land. I was jirohahly near the same spot from which Jesus last saw his childhood home, when driven from it by the wicked Jews among whom he had grown up to man- hood, subject to his parents. For a good while I stood gaz- ing upon this little city nestling against the hill before I could realize that the home of Joseph and Mary really lay before me. Then we slowly descemled the winding road, passing by great cacti fences and hedges, and sought our tents, close beside the Virgin’s Fountain, beneath some old olive- trees, on a beautiful level sj^ot of land. There is no place where it is so difficult to fully realize that Christ was a little child as when one climbs up and walks through the steep, narroAv, crooked streets of Nazareth, where was the home of IMar}’, the mother of Jesus, and where Jesus himself had his home for nearly thirty years. The town is not large, and I had time to trace out almost every street of the place Avhere Christ spent most of his time while on earth. Can it he that Jesus once lived here, and lu-re Avith his reputed father w'orked at the carpenter’s trade? Can it he that about these -streets, thronged Avith women and children, the child Jesus, Avith Mar}’ his mother, often Avalkcd and talked, much as these do uoav ? It cost me an effort to realize this. But such is the truth. God Avas Avalking among men Avhen they kncAV him not. Humanity Avas having given to it a dignity Avhich Avas before unknoAvn. Nazareth, the desi)i.repared for the rejection. “ No i)rophet is accepted in his own country,” was his reply. If he be rejected at Nazareth, others will hear the gospel he brings. lie tells the people of his own city how God chooses those who hear him. The widow of Sarepta was chosen to shelter Elijah rather than any widow of Israel. Naaman, the Syrian, was cured of his leprosy, while many lepers in Israel were unsaved. It was enough. The jicople were filled with Avratb. They “rose up, and thrust him out of the cit}", and led him to the broAV of the hill Avhereon their city Avas built, that they niiglit east him doAvn headlong. But he, passing through the midst of them, Avent his Avay.” Tradition has long since located the “ broAv of the hill” one mile and a half south of Nazareth. It is a tremendous j)recipice ; and Avhile there are other precipitous heights close to the city Avhich modern traA'elers have preferred to this one, on account of their nearness to the city, in looking upon the entire sur- roundings and the full record of the Gospels, I felt inclined to accept the more recently rejected traditional site. The evi- dent intent of the people Avas to murder Christ; and there is no place in all the hills about Nazareth Avhich such purposes Avould choose, like the one Avhich tradition points out, a mile and a half south of toAvn. Nazareth sheltered the infant Jesus, Avith his mother and Joseph, when he came from Egypt, passing from under the dominion of Archelaus in Judea to that of Herod Antipas in Galilee, but it rejected the Messiah Jesus Avhen he came AT THE WELL. 381 anointed by the Spirit of God to j)reach deliverance to the captives. If Antipas cared not to hunt the life of him -who had been declared horn “King of the Jews” in Bethlehem of Judea, the people of Nazareth would not have Jesus to open their eyes to the light of that kingdom of grace which is eternal life. And thus it is until now. Many a Nazarite heart to which Jesus tenderly comes, coldly and cruelly re- jects him and thrufets him away. Our camp was pitched near to the “ Virgin’s Fountain,” a little north-east of the town, over which a church is built. Some distance below the spring is a fountain to which the water is conducted by a channel, where from metal spouts women and maids, and even children, fill their great earthen jars with water to bear away to their homes in the town. In the evening the number coming out for water is much the greatest. As I stood watching the gayly-dressed maidens hearing away the water on their heads or shoulders in great earthen jars, one of our company apj^roached a damsel and asked that she give him to drink. She most i)olitely and kindly lowered her jar to her knee and invited him to drink from the mouth of the ve.^^.sel, which offer he as kindly ac- cepted, as she held the vessel up so that he could drink. The scene reminded me of the servant of Ahraham, when he met Rebecca, afterward the wife of Isaac, at the well in Mesopota- mia. “ Behold, I stand here by the well of water ; and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water : and let it come to pass, that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink ; and she • shall say. Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also : let the same be she that thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac.” (Genesis xxiv. 13, 14.) In the same manner did Jesus say, “ Give me to drink,” to the woman at the well of Samaria. (John iv. 7.) Toward evening the crow'd of women, old and young, pressed and thronged this sacred well. It is indeed the only well or spring in Nazareth, and is probably the only one the town has ever had. This being true, it is not hard to suppose 382 THE HOLY LAND. that the virgin mother of Christ and the child Jesus were among the throngs which at even-time more than eighteen hundred years ago pressed to this same fountain for water to supply their humble home. But it was hard for me to realize that He once trod these streets and stones amid a throng, bare- footed and in childish life and simplicity, such as came and went as I stood beside the Virgin’s Fountain. When Jesus oft’ered the water of life to the people of X'azareth they turned the cup of salvation from their lips. One day I saw a wonian with a kind of pan filled with dough, which she was carrying along the streets on her head. Upon making inquiry, I learned that sht' was carrying it to the village hake-oven to have it baked. I subse- quently witnessed the same scene in many places. Tlie American cooking-stove is unknown in Palestine. Now as in olden times the facilities for cooking meat and baking bread are poor in- deed. In the Old Testa- ment times cakes were baked on a stone or earth heated with a few coals. In Egypt, and even in Palestine, bread is now frequently baked in that village bake-oven. manner. Indeed, in Egy})! many of the poorest are content to lay their cake on a flat stone heated by the sun, and thus have the cake baked. I tried these sun-dried cakes in Pales- tine, but found them poor food. The American traveler, fortunately, can, in almost every town, purchase bread baked by .Jews or Eui’opeans which .somewhat resembles American bread. But it is extremely sour; and inany were the longings of our company for some ‘“'home-made bread.” In the time BAKE^OVEN. 383 of Christ the baking was sometimes done with a jar or pitcher by heating it with grass and sticks jdaced on the inside, the flat cakes being stuck upon the outside. It was to this cus- tom of heating ovens tluit the fsavior referred when he spoke of the “ grass of the field, which to day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven.” (Matthew vi. 30.) Now the village hake-oven, well shown in our illu.stration, is the resort of the villagers. It is sometimes heated with grass, sticks, vines, and brush, but more frecpiently witli dried dung. In all the towns of Palestine and Syria — ev(>n in Nazaretli — tlu' walls of the hou.ses are literally pla.stered over with the dung of all kinds of animals, made out into litthi cakes Ironi three to si.v inches in diameter. They are put up in this manner to dry, and are used to heat the ovens to hake the bread. I shoidd say that the larg<'st part of the j)cople in this land use this kind of fuel, while a few of the more wealthy have wood and charcoal. The fuel referred to above is not, according to American tastes, well adapted to such use ; and its prepara- tion^ to .say it softly, causes the towns to present a horrid and sickening appearance. I shall never forget tin' t(>elings of dis- gust experienced when I first saw the houses th(>re literally covered over with cakes of dung stuck up against them to dry. I loved Nazarc'th because of its shelter afforded to the Savior of the world during nearly all his earthly sojourn. I would fain remain longer to behold some new views of the life of this Galilean town, which is now so much like it mu.st have been when Jesus abode here. But .Jesus has a heavenly home. It is built on the mountain of God. To its divine retreat he invites the pilgrim not for the night alone. In his heavenly home there is no night, and the fountains are full and free. There the mansions are. There the weary are at rest. CHAPTER XII. Storm at Nazareth — Singing of Birds — Leaving Nazareth — Hills of Gal- ilee— Path of the Holy Faniilj' — Plain of Plsdraelon — Little Her- mon — Carmel — Battle of the Gods — Elijah — Ahab — Jezebel — The Famine — The Prayer for Rain — God or Baal — Hermits of Carmel — Naiii — Tabor — Shunem — Elisha’s Chamber — Raising the Widow’s Son. SHALL not soon forgot the fearful ■wind-storm which in the niglit threatened to tear our tents from their places as we lay at Nazareth. Had it not heen for the diligence used in fastening tlie stakes and tightening ^ the cords, we should have suffered severely from the storm. L When the morning came the storm was passed; the deli- cate song of birds made the air resonant Avith the sweetest music that could have fallen on our ears tortured Avith the midnight storm. In the branches and floAvers of the cacti, and in the green boughs of the olive-trees, these SAveet song- sters build their nests. So even noAv, as in olden times, at Nazareth the “birds of the air haA'e nests,” though this people anciently refused Jesus a place Avhere to lay his head. From Nazareth, seclusiA'ely nestling betAveen the surround- ing hills of Galilee, our course Avas chosen south Avard toAvard Samaria. Onee out of the little A’alley of Nazareth the Avay soutliAvard and eastAvard Avas down jirccipitous steeps and along the broAV of rugged hills. For almost a mile doAvn to- Avard the plain of Esdraelon, the Ava)’ was so rough that it W’as almost imiAossible to make it on horseback. I led my horse doAvn over the steeps and rocks, over Avhich he must sometimes jump doAvn two feet and more, perpendicularly. From the hills south of the town I looked for the last time on the white 384 PLAIN OF ESDRAELON. 385 (hvellings of Nazareth, the childhood home of our Savior, and tlien turned to the south to behold the beautiful i:>lain stretch- ing out fourteen miles soutlnvard and far awa}' to the sea, Avhile the towering form of Carmel gracefully lifted its heights beyond the plain until its bold brow apjx'ared abruptly bro- ken off by the great waters of the Mediterranean. What an inspiring scene! Then, too, I was traveling down the same steeps which the child Jesus descended eighteen hundred years ago with IMary and Josejih, when on their journey to distant Jerusalem, to worship. God ! Up these steep hills the holy family, Avearied by their long journey from Egypt, slowly climbed to take up their abode in the despised Nazareth! This Avas ahvays the direct road soutliAvard. SloAvly and thoughtfully I descended to the edge of the plain. E.sdraelon is a vast, triangular-shaped, level tract of land of great beauty and fertility. From the hills of Galilee north of Little Hermon to the sea, the north-Avestern side of the plain is about sixteen miles long. Acro.ss the plain Avhere Little llermon and Gilboa break it uj) at the east end, it is fourteen miles Avide. On the south side of the plain along the base of Mount Carmel, it is about twenty-five miles long. The prophet once united Carmel and the plains of Sharon as symbolizing the beauty to be expected in the coming king- dom of the Messiah. (Isaiah xxxv. 2.) The plain of Esdraelon, spreading out like a picture of beauty Avith the hills of Galilee on the north and Carmel on the south, and Little Hermon, Gilboa, and Tabor on the east, presents a field of illustrious history. It is the scene of battle- conflict, such as one’s eye noAvhere beholds in all Palestine. Carmel, breaking aAvay from the hills of Samaria, stands the lone reminder of the conflict of the old Prophet Elijah Avith the wicked Jezebel and Ahab. The mountain is about four- teen miles long, but does not possess peculiar boldness from its height so much as on account of its position, running really across the land, and because of its abrupt breaking down at tbe sea. Its greatest height is only about one thousand seven hundred and forty feet (Conder), Avhile close to the sea it is 25 386 THE HOLY LAND. five hundred and fifty-six feet. On its northern side along the plain of Esdraelon it rises very abruptly. Tradition, with inucli plausibility, locates the scene of Elijah’s conflict, or fire-test with the proi)hets of Baal, near the eastern terminus of the mountain. Tliis peak, called El Mahralcah (Place of Burning), one thousand, si.x hundred and eighty- seven feet high, forms the .south-east extremity of tire main mountain- range. Below the peak .some distance is a plateau of land Avith olive-trees, above Avbich are shrubs and buslies. The greater part of the mountain is mount- ain Avould afford a place for the gathering of tin; peojile, and from the well the twelve barrels of Avater with which the sacrifice and altar Avere flooded could easily have been ob- tained. From the summit of the mountain the sea is plainlj' A'isihle, and to that jAoint the prophet’s servant doubtless went, Avhile Elijah remained a little heloAV in jArayer, and saw rising “a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand,'’ until the heavens became black, and the dusty and parched Carmel Avelcomed the clouds and delicious rain, Avhich for three years and a half (Luke iv. 25) had refused to come Avitli its bene- diction over all the land. (I, Kings XAuii. 44.) That Avas an aAvful day on Carmel. Ahah had become the tool of the hea- then Jezebel Avhom he had married. Idolatry had taken the place of the altars of God. Upon Carmel the altar of the Lord had been destroyed. The children of Israel had forsaken the covenant made Avith their God — throAvn doAvn his altars and slain the prophets of .JehoA^ah Avith the SAVord. (I. Kings xix. 10.) Elijah the Tishhite, the old prophet of the Most High, had been driven out of Samaria to find shelter under BATTLE OF THE GODS. 387 the cliff of the Judean mountains, hy tlie brook Cherith, where the ravens brouglit him bread and flesh in the morning and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank water out of the brook until after awhile it was dried up because there were no rains in the land. He liad then been sheltered for a long time in the home of the widow of Zarephath, feeding upon her unwasting barrel of meal and cruse of oil Avhich failed not all the years through. But “ the heavens were shut up,” and a pinching, scorching famine stalked in every vall(>y and liaunted every ganlen. The Ood of heaven was exceedingly angry. Appe'aring to Elijah, who for throe years had concealed himself from the king, in the coast of Zidon, the Lord said, “Go show thy.self unto Ahab; and I will send rain upon the earth.” Now there was one seend disciple of the Almighty in the house of Ahab, Obadiah, who was the trusted master of his house, who had fed with bread and water one hundred prophets of the I.ord, in a cave, while Jezebel had decreed that all should be slain, for he “ feared the Lord greatly.” Obadiah searching for some food or fount- ain of water or pasture-land for the beasts in one direction, Avhile Ahab Avent in another, Avas met by Elijah and became the unAvilling bearer of tidings to Ahab that the old jirophet Avished to meet him face to face. Ahab, the Avicked king, and the old prophet of God, clad in his mantle, confronted each other — the one the advocate of the God of Abraham, and the other the folloAver of Baal. “ Art thou he that troubleth Ls- rael?” Avas the taunting and greeting Elijah received from the king. The prophet Avas ready for the contest. He thrust Ahab’s sins upon him Avith the aAvful charge of his departure from God to follow Baalim. The challenge is made and ac- cepted. Four hundred jArophets of the groves, and four hun- dred and fifty prophets of Baal, attend Ahab and the elders of the people to yon height of Carmel! Elijah is alone, and appears to Israel on the mountain and pronounces the solemn sentence, “ Hoav long halt ye betAveen two opinions; if the Lord be God, folloAv hiin ; but if Baal, then folloAv him.” “ The God that ansAvereth by fire let him be God.” Baal must be 388 THE HOLY LAND. tested first. The priests of Baal employ all the morning. Their bullock and wood lie untouched by fire till noon. At full noon the burning sun -god stands up above Carmel, and the hot winds come over from the east and every moment threaten to kindle the fire. Hundreds of priests cry with pleading prayer, “0 Baal, answer us!” When the sun threatened to kindle the flame, Elijah, advancing to the throng, hurled into the company the bitterest shafts of irony, “ Cry aloud : for he is a god ; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked.” They jumix'd up and down on the altar, the lancets and knives were thrust into their bodies and drawn over their foreheads until the blood flowed down over them, but no spark from the sun kindled a flame on the altar. All the day has passed, but there is “ neither voice nor an}' to answer, nor any that regardeth.” The sun was sinking over the mountains of Samaria Avhen the people came near and beheld the old prophet repairing the altar which long before had stood on Carmel. Twelve stones after the twelve tribes of Jacob composed the altar again courageously built by the Tishbite. The wood, the sacrifice, the trench, the twelve barrels of water drenching the whole with a flood, challenged the answer of fire. It was an awful hour for the old pro})het. Would the heavens be shut up against his jwayer as they had refused to hear the prayer of the parched earth for rain ? The time of the evening sac- rifice has come. The work must be thorough in every par- ticular or a failure entire. It is a decision and battle between the gods. Hear the i:>rophet : “ Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and of Israel, let it be known this day that thou art God.” The suspense is only a moment. There is a spark, — a flash, — a flame. The top of the mountain glows and glares with the intense heat. Sacrifice, altar, stones, and water in the trench are consumed as stubble, while Elijah looks complacently upon the scene. Carmel trembles, and the whole mountain, filled with the throng of Israel, is a place of worship. The assembled thousands fall on their faces and cry, “ The Lord, THE PRAYER FOR RAIN. 389 he is the God; the Lord, he is the God.’’ The Lord of hosts ■fl’ins a great victor5^ No battle of Gideon or Barak or of Napoleon of later times, which stained the soil of Esdraelon with human gore, compares with the victory won by Jehovah on yonder heights of Carmel. The triumph needed only to be baptized with an abundance of rain. God had mercy upon the fields and flocks and upon his famisliing, rebellious people. But tire era of prosperity and the shoAvers of refresh- ing rain must come in answer to the prophet’s prayer; for God would shoAV the people that he had sent Elijah, and tlrat he Avas the divine spokesman to Israel. The proifliets of Baal had been slain, and their carcasses lay in the IkhI of the brook Kishon, below, Availing the flood to Avash them aAvay, Avhen ‘•Elijah Avent up to the tojA of Carmel; and he cast himself down upon the earth, and put his face between his knees” in wondrous prayer, Avhile his servant seven times Avent a dis- tance on the mountain, coming and going, declaring there Avas no sign of rain, until at last he said, “ Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand.” “ Prepare th}’’ chariot, an l get thee doAvn, that the rain stojr thee not,” Avas Elijah’s order to Ahab. The heavens grcAv black Avith clouds and wind. The parched earth drank in the mellowing shower. Thirst}' cattle and herds and flocks drank of the falling floods. The hills leaped for joy, and the forests of Carmel clapped their Avings Avith gladne.ss. The plains of Sharon and Esdrae- lon shouted for thankfulness. Ahab’s chariot drove Avith the storm in mighty haste, Avhile the prophet of God Avith majes- tic mien gii’ded up his cloak and garments about his loins and for sixteen miles ran as a servant before the chariot of the king, even to the gate of Jezreel. From that day until noAV Carmel stands sacred as the scene of this aAvful conflict and tremendous victory. Tavo hundred years later, in the days of Micah, the people of God dAvelt solitary in the Avood in the midst of Carmel. (Micah vii. 14.) It became a hiding-place for the people. (Amos ix. 3.) Eight hundred years before Christ, and early in the Christian centuries, Carmel Avas the resort of the hermits. In the thirteenth century the cm- 390 THE IIOL V LAND. saders adorned it with tenij)le.s and monasteries, the ruins of which remain. Nearly a century ago (1799) the sick of the army of Napoleon were sheltered in the monasteries, now destroyed ; but upon his retreat they fell into the hands of the ^Moslems and were cruelly murdered. Lieutenant Conder says, “ Carmel is remarkable for the profusion of its flowers. In November we found on its sides the cytisus, crocus, narcis- sus, the i)ink cistus, and large camomile daisies, the colocasia, and the hawthorn in bud. The .Judas-tree I have also twice found in remote parts, and in the spring, wild tuliiis, the dark-red anemone like a popi^y, the beautiful pink phlox, the cyclamen, little purple stocks, large marigolds, wild gera- nium, and saxifrage, with rock roses of three kinds — pink yellow, and white.” {Tent-Work in Palestine, page 95.) From the northern edge of the plain of Esdraelon, entered from Nazareth, we rode about five miles south-east across the plain to Nain, situated on the northern slope of Jebel Dehu, or Little Ilermon, two miles from its western terminus. Two miles farther east, across a gap or break in the mountains, is Endor, a miserable little town of about one hundred and fifty people, so filthy that no one would care to visit it were it not for the fact that in one of its caves once lived the witch to whom Saul in the night of his agony, forsaken of God, re- sorted to ask her to summon back to him the dead Prophet Samuel, whose admonitions and warning he had so wickedly disobeyed. (I. Samuel xxviii. 4-25.) It still has its original name, pronounced by the Arabs Emlur. Nain is a small, dirty town, built of stone, with here and there ruins of former greatness. This is the city at whose gate Jesus raised the widow’s son from the dead, as the funeral cortege was on the way to the burial. Luke tells us that “when He came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow : and much people of the cit}' was with her.” (Luke vii. 12.) .Tesus had come from Capernaum, a distance of twenty miles away, that day ; and we may Avell imagine that it was nigh unto evening. The sun hung over Carmel when RAISING THE WIDOW’S SON. 391 the Man with a seamless coat, after a journey of twenty miles on foot, commanded the bier to halt as it was near to the burial-ground. His tender words dried the tears of the widow, and His j)Ower gave back from the dead her only son into her fond arms. The course of the old wall can be readily traced, especially on the west of the town ; and no doubt the present path, through a declivity in the elevation, leading into a little valley outside of the town, lies on the same spot of the way out which they carried the dead man. Just a little way across the valley, a few hundred paces, are a number of tombs cut in the rock, which remain to this day. Xo doubt here was the burial-place to Avhich the young man was being borne when the Savior met the sorrowful company and reclaimed from the arms of Death the only dependence of a widowed mother. There are few i)laces in all the Holy Land where I found my heart more tenderly touched than when standing, as I supposed, just at the position of the gate of Xain where this miracle was wrought, and reading Luke’s record, given so con- cisely, and yet so full. The record is a marvelously concise and interesting narrative. As I stood reading the wondrous story upon tbe spot where moi’e than eighteen and a half centuries ago Jesus for the eighth time, so far as we have the record, wrought a miracle, — but this the eighth time entered the realm of death and for the first time showed his power over death and hell, — I felt a strangely new appreciation of Jesus. (Luke vii. 11-15.) Behind me were the ruins of the ancient Xain, about me the dim traces of the old wall, and yonder in full view, in front, the rocky tombs, now open, to one of which probably the young man was being borne when Jesus again “delivered him to his mother.” Jesus had before shown his power over diseases, but this entering the domain of death presages the power of his own resurrection. Xine hundred years before, only a few miles away, at Shunem, the son of the Shunammite woman had been restored from the dead by Elisha. Since then none had risen from that dream- less sleep save the ghostly momentary resuscitation of the man who touched the bones of Elisha in his own quiet grave. (II. 392 THE HOLY LAND. Kings xiii. 21.) Xot even at Bethany was I more certain that I stood upon the sj)ot of the triumph of the voice of Jesus over the power of death than at Nain. North and a little east from Nain, and from Little Hermon about six miles, is Mount Tabor, which looks like a great smooth heap. It is six miles south-east of Nazareth, and about ten miles from Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee. The southern portions of Tabor are barren, but the northern slopes of the mountain are covered with shrubs, while near its base is a fine grove of oak trees, the largest in Palestine. From Nain, a ride across the mountain to the south-west end of Little Hermon brought us to Shunem, situated on the south-eastern slope of the mountain. It has a delightful loca- tion, with a splendid sj^ring, — indeed several spring.s, — so that here we found orchards of orange and lemon trees which Avere beautiful to look upon. We Avere quartered for awhile in a lemon-orchard, thick Avith trees of splendid size. These, too, Avere abundantly loaded AAUth fruit. From a single tree not less than forty or fifty bushels of lemons might have been gathered. The men and the Avomen and the children all came out of their houses or huts to look at us. Not less than fifty sat around on the ground AA’atching us all the time. Some of them Avere quite black Avhile others Avere Avhite. A AA’oman aa’Iio AA-as quite black seemed to have the manage- ment of affairs around the garden or orchard, and appeared quite afraid that some of our company AA’ould appropriate her fruit. They all seemed to AA’ant some backshish because we had been in the garden, though nothing had been touched except Avhat had been bought and Avell paid for. There are but fcAV ruins here, and the houses are only mud huts with holes about three feet high for doors, in and out of AA’hich creep dirty AVomen and children. Here the armies of the Philis- tines encamped on the slopes of Little Hermon, against Saul, AA’hose armies lay in Gilboa. There is no chamber here noAA' that a prophet AA'Ould wish to lodge in; and yet Shunem has knoAvn a better day. This place lay directly on the Avay of Elisha in his journey to RAISING THE WIDO IF’S SON. 393 Carmel from the east. Here a woman of wealth recognized Elisha as a man of God, and Avith the consent and aid of her husband built a little chamber on the AA’all of their house, and set for him there a bed and a table and a stool and a candlestick (II. Kings iv. 10) ; and here Elisha and his servant Gehazi often abode. South of the town are the fields where the youthful son of the Shunammite woman went among the reapers and fell smitten by the power of the sun, until he Avas carried to his mother and placed on her knee, where he lay till noon and died. The eye readily traces the course, fourteen miles aAvay, across the plain Avhich the woman pursued to find Elisha in Carmel, and to ansAver him, “ It is well,” Avhile her darling boy lay dead in the prophet’s chamber in her home here at Shunem. Across this plain Gehazi preceded the projAhet, but the staff of the man of God lay poAverless upon the dead face of the youth. Hither Elisha came, led by the broken-hearted, benevolent Avoman, to raise from the dead her only son. (II. Kings iv. 32-36.) Xo one can A’isit these sites of ancient cities and look on these plains and mountains and notice their location, Avithout being surprised at the marvelous accuracy with Avhich they fit into every de- tail of the Bible record. As I sat under the shade of a great lemon -tree and read from the Bible the history of events whose tender loA’e and tragedy have covered this plain about Shunem, and these mountains of Gilboa, and yonder Cai’inel, with fadeless memories, I Avas almost beAvildered Avith the ac- curacy of the Bible statement. The Xcav Testament incidents lie back in history nearly two thousand years, Avhile Elisha, whose path I described through the plain, Avas here almost a thousand years before Christ Avas born ; and yet these mount- ains and ruins of cities and plains fit to Bible record as your one hand fits to the other. CHAPTER XIII. Fountain of Gideon — Jezreel — Gilboa — Battle of Deborah — Gideon — Scene at Endor — Saul Slain in Gilboa — Jezebel — Vineyard of Naboth — Josiah Slain by Nechro — Napoleon’s Battle — Jeliu — Dogs Eat Jeze- bel— Women Grinding at the Mill — Rock -Cut Cisterns — Across Esdraelon. Wrom Shunem on the slopes of Little Hermon we rode south and east to the base of Gilboa, to the fountain of Gideon, or Ain Jalud. This is doubtless the well (fountain) of Harod, by which the armies of Gideon were camjied more than thirty-one centuries ago. i (.Judges vii. 1.) It is a strong fountain of clear water, springing out of a cavern in the rocks. It at once spreads out to a width of three or four rods, and is al)out two .feet deep. To this fountain Gideon, at the command of the Lord, led down from the heights above the people unto the water to drink. Those who dipped their hands into the water and lapped it out of the hollow of their hands with their tongues were chosen to the battle. Tliis had respect to the most hasty way of drinking. I rode directly into the stream, and stooi)ing at the side of my pony drank in that manner before one of our com- pany could get to the fountain with his cup. (.Judges vii. 6.) From this fountain a ride of about two miles brought us to Zerin, the ancient Jezreel, the summer capital of Samaria, where Aliab and Jezebel had a splendid palace. The view from Gilboa is one of the most far-reaching anywhere to be obtained. There are not here to the visitor those memories which come to him at Xazareth over the hills of Galilee, nor the sacred associations which he experiences even at Shunem. Looking in any direction upon the great plain east or west, 394 GILBOA. 395 the eyes rest upon the scenes of the most illustrious battles ever fought on the sacred soil of the Holy Land ! This great expanse of fertile lands has again and again been baptized •with the blood of conflicting armies. The whole scene from Gilboa paints to the mind a picture of age succeeding age, thrusting out its flame of war and echoing the departed armies, commingled with the shouts of victorious hosts and the flash of terrifying torches of fire. It is a wondrous arena to look upon ! Almost thirty-two centuries ago, Jabin, king of Canaan, came with his army from Hazor, and pitched his troops in array in Esdraelon, at Taanach, by the waters of Me- giddo (Judges v. 19), the branches of Kishon. His nine hun- dred chariots of iron rattled in the plain to the terror of all the people. Then came Barak, encouraged by Deborah, com- manding the hosts of the Lord to meet the oppressor of Israel on the banks of the Kishon, seven miles away to the south and west from Gilboa. He had marshaled his armies in Ta- bor, from which he had observed all the movements of the army of Sisera. (Judges iv. 12.) But now he came with ten thousand men to witness the di.scomforture which the Lord should bring upon the enemies of Israel, for “ the stars in their courses fought against Sisera,” and the storms beat down the host, and the flood of Kishon, as they rushed terrified into its swelled channel, swept them away as they tried to make their escape. Yonder in the swamps Sisera abandoned his chariot, on foot, only to be slain by Jael, the wife of Heber. Nearly fifty years later Gideon conquered tlie Midianites, just at the foot of Gilboa, eastward from Jezreel. The Midianites had come from beyond Jordan and taken possession of all this vast plain, until the children of Israel were driven into the dens and caves of the mountains. With the INIidianites came also the Amalekites and the “ children of the east.” Gid- eon, feeling assured that God would be with him, came with thirty-two thousand men and camped above the fountain, while the Midianites lay just north of them in the Valley. By the removal and dismissal of the fearful, the army was re- duced to ten thousand. These ten thousand soldiers under 396 THE HOLY LAND. Gideon marched down by night to the brow of Gilboa and by the fountain, passed the unknown test which sent away to their tents all save three hundred chosen men, who returned to the top of the mountain overlooking the camp of the Mid- ianites. Another day had j)assed, and in the darkness of the night Gideon, with his servant Phurah, crept softly down the mountain slope to the edge of the enemy’s camp and overheard two men talking — the one telling the dream of a loaf of barley-bread tumbling into the host of Midian, and the other declaring, “ This is nothing else save the sword of Gideon.” A new inspiration siezed the son of Joash. He hasted back to his army and told them, “ The Lord hath delivered into your hands the hosts of Midian !” It is a strange device. Every man of the three hundred lighted his torch and carried it with a pitcher and a trumpet in his hand. The early watches had been relieved and perchance were asleep as the middle watch took their place, and the three companies of Gideon’s men silently entered Midian’s camp, and every man in his iilace blew the trumjjet, and broke his pitcher, and held up the blazing torch before the alarmed and terrified Midianites and Amalekites, and cried aloud, “ The sword of the Lord and of Gideon.” (.Judges vii. 20.) Affrighted, panic-stricken, and bewildered, the hosts of Midian fled down the plain toward the Jordan. Everywhere the tidings of victory sped through Israel and from Naphtali, and other portions of the land ; assembling thousands fought on the banks of the Jordan and took the princes Oreb and Zeeb, while Gideon pressed far east of the Jordan to the hab- itations of the Midianites and defeated them there by Nobah and took their two kings, Zebah and Zalmunna. Almost two hundred years after the battle of Gideon, Israel’s first king, the giant-like Saul, wdiom Samuel had anointed king over the people, ended his tragic and sorrowful history here on Gilboa. AVhile his arm)’’ w’as pitched on the slopes of Gilboa, the Philistines lay fovar miles north, across the narrow plain, at Shunem, upon the slopes of Little Hermon. What a contrast between Saul and Gideon. David, the gallant SCENE AT ENDOR. 397 conqueror of the Philistines, the only man in all Israel who could have led the armies to victory against the Philistine hosts, had been driven by his own cruel father-in-law to take refuge among these same Philistines. It was only by a pecul- iar circumstance that David, with his six hundred men, was not in the Philistine army engaged in this battle against Saul and Jonathan. (I. Samuel xxix. 1-7.) Samuel the prophet was dead and buried at Ramah, and the Lord had turned his face and his ear from Saul and had refused to answer him, cither by dreams or by vision or by the prophets. As Saul looked across the narrow plain from the heights of Gilboa and saw the Philistines, ‘‘ he was afraid, and his heart greatly trembled.” (I. Samuel xxviii. 5.) It was an awful strait to which he had been reduced. What calamity could have over- taken him equal to his being abandoned by the Lord? lie had long before forsaken the Most High. The night was al- ready now passing. To-morrow the battle must be met and fought in the plain before the camp. What a scene follows ! When the weary hosts of warriors sleep in quiet repose in the camp, Saul rises from his pallet, and with his servants, steals softly in disguise out of camp, climbs over the slopes of Gilboa, down into the valley and across the plain and along over the lower slopes of Little Hermon and enters Endor, and searches out a cave where he may commune with a haggard witch, per- chance to learn the fortunes of the morrow’s battle. A scene 60 vivid and melancholy has nowhere else been painted on the pages of human history. In that cavern in the rocks as the midnight hour came on apace, the ghost of Samuel stands before the affrighted witch and the disconsolated king, and tells him that God, because of his sins, hath rent the kingdom out of his hands and given it to David, and that to-morrow, not only Saul but his sons should be with him in the world of spirits ! There on the hard damp floor prostrate lay the once proud and noble Saul, overwhelmed with the pangs and sor- row of the message. But when the morning came Saul had returned to the camp on Gilboa and waited the battle-scene. While Saul had stolen across the plain to Endoi- in the night. 398 THE HOLY LAND. the Philistines had prepared for the battle by crossing the plain and confronting the army of Israel. And the Philis- tines fought against Israel, Avho fled to the mountain wounded and dying. Jonathan and his tAVO brothers, Ahinadab and Melchi-shua, were slain, and the defeated and fleeing Saul was smitten sorely by the arroAvs, and sought death at the hands of his armor-bearer. There side by side Saul and his armor- hearer lay dead on Gilboa, liaA'ing eaeh fallen on his OAvn SAA’ord. Standing on the heights of the mountain AAdiere the battle AA'as fought, one can see far doAvn the A'alley, toAvard the Jordan, through AA'hich Israel fled before the Philistines. Only a dozen miles from Jezreel, toAA'ard the Jordan, are the ruins of Bethshan, — noAA' called Beisan, — AAdiere the Philistines the day after Saul’s defeat gibbeted the bodies of Saul and his three sons to the aa’uIIs of the city, Avlu're they hung until tidings of the abuse of their bodies reached the ears of the valiant men of Jabesh-gilead beyond the Jordan, aa lio came by night and took down the bodies and bore them to Jabesh and charred them AAuth fire to prevent their desecration, and buried them under a tree. (I. Samuel xxxi. 12, 13.) A century and a half after David Avent to the throne of Israel, Jezreel became the scene of Elijah’s combat Avith Avicked Ahab, Avho sold himself to wickedness, and the still more Avicked Jezebel. Ahab had built a summer capital here at Jezreel. There are no remains of the ancient city. A fcAV m’iserable flat-roofed huts, built of anciently iirejiarcd stone, compose the present town called Zerin. Not a shrub or tree shelters the bare earth or relieves the bald monotony of the place. Hoav it reminded me of the stanza in David's song of lamentation: “Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no deAA', neither let there be rain, upon you, nor fields of offerings : for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast aAvay, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed Avith oil.” (II. Samuel i. 21.) Fragments of sarcoiihagi, broken in pieces, and a number of these ancient marble sarcophagi sculptured AAuth figures of the moon, the crescent symbol of the god Ash- taroth, scattered here and there, are almost the only relics of NAPOLEON'S BATTLE. 399 ancient Jezreel, the city of Jezebel. I could only conjecture the location of the vineyard of Naboth, the good husband- man, which exceeded in beauty and richness even the royal gardens of Kiirg Ahub. It probably lay on the slopings of the hill toward the little valley eastward from the royal build- ings. Somewhere down there in the valley they carried Na- both, wickedly condemned by a hellish device of Jezebel, and stoned him until he died. (I. Kings xxi. 13.) His one offense was being the owner and keeper of a better vineyard than Ahab. What memories of terror and l)lood sprinkled over these hills and valleys lay before me, as I stood above the mounds which cover the ruins of ancient Jezreel! I have alluded to some of these battle-scenes. Looking almost west from the splendid site of .Jezreel, tlie eyes rested on Megiddo, against the hills of Manasseh, where two hundred and sev- enty-five years after the time of Ahab the good King Josiah fought bravely against Nechro, King of Eg^-pt, and was hit by the archers and sore wounded, so that he Avas placed in another chariot and borne bleeding, suffering, and dying to Jerusalem. (II. Chronicles xxxv. 23, 24.) Beyond lay the fields over Avhich Napoleon fought against the combined power of the Turks in the early summer of 1799. The Turks had collected not less than fifteen thousand horsemen, and as many more on foot. For sixteen hours a deadly hand to hand slaughter went on, when Naijoleon appeared on the scene close under the hills of Manasseh and charged so fearfully that the Turks lied into the swamps of Kishon, Avhere the army of Sisera with his chariots Avere once overtaken by destruction. Yonder down the same plain, over Avhich other fleeing armies have hastened, the l\Iamelukes and whole Arab army fled. Standing on the site of Jezreel the eye looks over the battle- field to Carmel and rests upon the scene of Elijah’s conflict, sixteen miles distant, while the entire distance over Avhich Elijah ran before the chariot of Ahab is in full view. (I. Kings xvii. 44-46.) Looking eastward is the Avay up which the old prophet came to meet Ahab in tbe vineyard of Naboth, there to announce to him his doom, that Avhere the dogs had licked 400 THE HOLY LAND. the blood of Naboth, there also should the dogs lick his blood, and that as for Jezebel, the dogs should eat her by the wall of Jezreel. Far down toward the Jordan the eye courses out the spot where the watchman on the tower of Jezreel saw Jehu and his company driving with haste (II. Kings ix. 17), to he met by Joram, king of Israel, and Ahaziah, king of Judah, b}’ the gardens of Naboth. There Jehu smote Jehoram, and Bidkar threw him in the vineyard of Naboth, while Jehu fol- lowed Ahaziah in the plains and smote him in his chariot, until he died at Megiddo. When Jehu returned to Jezreel, Jezebel painted her face in disguise, and from a window in the palace over the wall beheld his triumph only for a moment, when she was thrust over the wall down into the road, to be trampled by the horses and eaten by the dogs. Thus twenty- five years after her threat against Elijah to make him as her Baal priests, and twelve years after Elijah had entered heaven in a chariot of fire, Jezebel was eaten by the dogs here at Jez- reel. (II. Kings ix. 36.) The walls of Jezreel are gone, and the garden of Naboth has left no traces of its beauty. A sor- rowful historv sprinkles its memories over Esdraelon, Gilboa, and Jezreel. Amid these battle-fields and memories of blood it was a relief to the heart to look upon Shunem with its tender memo- ries of the old Prophet Elisha and his little chamber in the home of the noble Shunammite woman. I delighted to think of Jesus coming up the plain from the Sea of Galilee to the gate of yon little town on the slopes of Little Hermon, just in time to give back to a widowed mother her only son, from the very bier by which he was being carried to his burial. How the life and deeds of Jesus contrast here with the memories of E.sdraelon ancj the cities which nestled about it. The sun began to sink toward Mount Carmel. We turned our horses toward Jenin, lying on the southern border of the plain. As we rode out of Jezreel, somewhere close to the grounds which composed the garden of Naboth, some women and children where thrashing grain and winnowing the chaflf from the wheat on a large flat rock. Two women were sitting WOMEN GRINDING AT THE MILL. 401 near by on the ground grinding wheat with a hand-mill, ■which consists of two roughly -dressed stones about sixteen inches in diameter. This manner of grinding grain was known as far back as liistory reaches. When Moses informed Israel of the destruction God was about to Avork among the Egypti- ans, he told them that even the “first-horn of tlie maid-serv- ant that is behind the mill” was to bo slain. (Exodus xi. 5.) The laAV of God to Israel exempted the u])per and the lower mill-stones from being taken for debt, as these were es.sentiaJ to the life of a family. (Deuteronomy xxiv. G.) Our Lord, in WOJiTErN GRITrarNG AT A MIL!.. his description of his second coming, in describing the sudden- ness of his apjAearing and the separations of that hour, says, “Tavo women shall be grinding at the mill: the one shall be taken and the other left.” (Matthew xxiv. 41.) All about Jezreel we saw a number of rock-hewed cisterns. They are great cisterns cut deep and in solid rock, with an opening two or three feet in diameter. As one looks at these cisterns at .lezreel, he can not but remember the terrible drought of this land in the times of Ahab. These, as well as those at Samaria, were dry, and Obadiah was sent to “all 26 402 THE HOLY LAND. fountains of water, and unto all brooks,” to find pasturage for the king’s flocks. Some of these cisterns possibly belonged to Ahab, or to the city in ancient times. It is easy to picture to tlie mind the starving and thirsty throngs coming to the fountain or cistern (these words are the same), only to learn that all the water had been exhausted. It was anciently the custom to fill these cisterns in the rainy season and fasten and seal them for use in the summer. (Sungs of Solomon iv. 12.) When the supply in one cistern would become exhausted, an- other fountain would be unsealed and opened in the ])rcsence of the people. Such a scene was before the eye of the Prophet Zechariah when he saw the spiritual blessings of Christ for a famishing world and exclaimed, ‘'In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of .lerusalem for sin and for uncleanness.” (Zechariah xiii. 1.) Some of th(‘,se cisterns are of immense size, and are found in various paids of Palestine. They were so located as to catch the rain-fall from a considerable table-land; and the water thus i)reserved was of great service in the dry season in watering the gardens and vine}uirds. It must have cost vast labor to hew one of them out in the solid limestone rock. Many of these, like the pools in southern Palestine, are doubt- less of great antiquity. They were mostly dry when we saw them, and are largely unused for the purposes to which they were devoted long ago. When the land was densely popu- lated and highly cultivated one of these cisterns was of great value to a kee])cr of a vineyard. During the summer the failure of the water by leakage would have iwoved a great loss. More than six hundred years before Christ, .leremiah alluded to such a calamity when he speaks for the Lord and says, “ My people have committed two evils; they have for- saken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.” (Jere- miah ii. 13.) By evening we were across the plain of Esdraelon, and went in among the great cactuses, which grow like trees, even to the height of ten and fifteen feet, and found our tents at Jenin. Four burly, stout Arabs guarded our camp for the night. CHAPTER XIV. Jenin — Cactus — Date-Palm — Women at the Tomhs — Dothan — Joseph Sold — Elisha at Dothan — Watering Camels — Samaria — Home of the Prophets — Colonnade of Herod — Church of St. John — Siege of Ben- hadad — Philip at Samaria — Peter at Samaria — Sight of Ebal and Gerizim — Gathering Sticks — Arabs at Meal. ^itXIX is a town of about three thousand people, on the southern edge of tlie plain of .Tezreel, seven miles south of -Tezreel, and on the l)order of the hills of Sa- ^|,^iuaria. It is prol)ahly the ancient En Gavnim (garden springs) given to tlie Levites. (Joshua xix. 17-21; xxi. 1 28, 29.) It is substantially built of stone, and on the west and south has beautiful gardens sui-rounded with im- mense cactuses ten or fifteen feet high, tvliich were in delight- ful bloom. Some of the flowers were as larg(> as a lady’s bonnet. Here and there a stately jialm lifts itself ulmve the gardens. Royal growths of the palm-tree are found in many places in southern and western Palestine. It was formerly abundant in the .Iordan valley. I saw one solitary palm at Capernaum, and a few at Tiberias, on the Sea of Galileo. Jericho was known as the “City ol' Palm-trees,” in the times of its pos- session by Joshfia when he led Israel into Canaan. (Deuteron- omy xxxiv. 3; Judges i. 16, and iii. 13.) The palm-tree grows luxuriantlj’’ along streams of water; and there is beauty and majesty as well as delicacy, which I can not describe, bift which one always observes with a sense of reverence as he looks upon the stately palm. Hei’e, often, their towering forms brought to memory that poetic utterance of the psalmist, “ The righteous shall flourish like a palm-tree.” (Psalms xcii. 403 404 TilE llulA LASD 12. ) Jeremiah in S})eakiug of the idolatry of the people and the perfect workmanship of ‘■and must needs be borne because they can not go,” says, “ The\’ are uj:»right as the palm-tree.” (Jeremiah X. 5.) So beautiful is the form of the palm-tree that Solomon carved the walls and doors of the temple on Moriah with figures of the cherubims and open flowers, ?p:id palm-trees. (I. Kings ri. 29.) It was branches of these palm-trees which the multitude st reeved in the way of the Savior's triumph- al approach to .Jerusalem as he crossed Mount Olivet. (Matthew xxi. 8; John xii. 13. ) • Our illustration gives a good and truthful repre- sentation of the palm-tree so sacred in Bible history, trunk or wood is worthless. It is soft and full of fibers, which cross the stick at various angles. It is almost impossible to split the wood, and its porous nature makes it useless. A splendid spring supplies water for the town, where it forms a clear pool in the western part of the village, which is a place for the collecting of women and men for conversation. Early in the morning, as the day began to dawn, I rose from ni}’ bed and hastened to make some ol)servations about the town. Just back of our camp was a large IMohammedan burial-ground. I saw twenty-five or thirty IMohammedan women in this grave-yard saying jwayers at the graves. Some of them were poorly dressed, but many wore clean coverings of white over the entire body and over their head and face. the idols which could not speak, DATE-PALM. The fruit is deliciou.s, while the WOMEN AT THE TOMBS. 405 They would kneel down around one grave for aw'hile and then go to another, performing the same ceremonies at each. This was continued until the sun was l)eginning to rise in tlie heavens. It is the custom of Mohammedan women and children to go at least once a week to the tombs of the dead with myrtle, an offering of love, and there sorrow for the de- j)arted. This same sorrowful .scene I witnessed at Damascus and many other places. WEEPING FOR THE DEAD. From Jenin wc> direct('d our journey toward Samaria by way of Dothan. Our way was chosen up a fine valley; then over rough hills, from which we could .sometimes have a view of the Mediterranean Sea far off to the west. By nine o’clock our eyes rested upon the Plain of Dothan, stretching out for three or four miles in either direction. The site of ancient Dothan is found on a very high hill, probably three hundred feet above tbe valley. There are a few houses on the top of the hill. The ruins show that at remote times large build- ings stood here. A square building with heavy stone walls is now one of the sacred places of the Mohammedans. The hill is covered with olive-trees. I rode up the steep slopes 406 THE HOLY LAND. and found a vast plateau covered witli these ruins. In a square inclosure, surrounded with a massive wall, is a niche Avith an arch three or four feet high. In this niche sat an image in the form of an idol-god, while a white flag Avas susi)ended close hy. This is evidently a sacred place of the Mohammedans, hut hy Avhat means the stone image Avas set ujA there I do not knoAV. BeloAV the hill in the valley is yet to he seen the well or cis- tern into which Joseph Avas cast hy his brethren. (Genesis xxxvii. 24.) After he had been put into the pit, the Bible tells us that his brethren “ sat doAvn to eat bread : and they lifted up their eyes and looked, and, behold, a company of Ishmaelites came from Gilead, Avith their camels bearing spicery and balm and myrrh, going to carry it doAvn to Egypt.” (Genesis xxxvii. 25.) From this place they could certainly see a great distance. There are indeed feAv places Avhere the road can be so far .scanned as from this point. The place ansAvers well to the description given in the Bible narrative. And these pasture-lands Avould naturally attract the brethren of Joseph from Shechem, — about fifteen miles, — to Dothan Avith their flocks. No doubt I passed over the lands Avhere the great flocks of Jacob were then pastured. And liere the youthful, tender, and innocent Joseph cried and ])lcaded. beseeching his brethren in the anguish of his soul nf>t to sell him away from his father. But they Avould not hear him. In fancy I coukl see the heart-broken child stripped of his pretty coat, led by the band of strangers aAvay from the prospect of ever seeing father or cruel brothers again, looking back and still crying and hoping that they Avould relent and allow him to return to them. The jJace is still knoAvn by the name Tell Dothan (the Heap of Dothan). It was here also that Elisha for a time had his home, and was surrounded by the army of the king of Syria, but found deli\'- erance in answer to prayer by Avhich the Syrians were smitten AA’ith blindne.ss, and by Elisha led ten miles to Samaria. (II. Kings vi. 18, 19.) Four or five miles before reaching Samaria, the ancient cap- SAMARIA. 407 ital of this country, -we took lunch in an old olive - orchard close by a splendid spring. A number of really handsome Avomen and children Avere busy in the orchard gathering the oliA'es. The olive is a small fruit, not so large as a damson; though these trees are as large as an apple-tree, and are loaded AA'ith oHa’cs as thickly as one imagines they could hang on the tree. The AA’omen had their Avrists and necks and faces heav- ily adorned Avith bracelets and strings of silver ornaments and coins. A number of natiA’es AAuth their camels Avore croAvded around the spring Avatering their beasts. Some of the camels AA'ere brought up to the fountain and made to kneel doAvn and drink a long time. While this aauis going on other camels lay off at a distance, and the Avomen carried Avater to them, held up the camels’ heads, and poured the Avater doAvn their throats. The Avomen continued this until they had filled up the poor creatures, Avhich AA'ere apparently glad to he Avaited upon in this summary Avay. Such a scene as tliis introduced Moses to the daughter of the priest of Midian Avhen a fugitive fleeing from the Egyptians (Exodus ii. 16) ; and it Avas in the A’ery midst of such a scene as this, three thousand seven hundred and forty years ago, that the trusty old servant of Abraham in search of a Avife for Isaac met the fair Rebekah. (Genesis xxiv. 11.) Samaria, the capital of the central division of Palestine, had one of the most delightful locations of any city in the Hoi}’’ Land. A deep A’alley on every side separates this emi- nence from the surrounding Samarian hills. Standing upon an eminence probably four hundred feet high, Samaria must have had a poAA’erful defense from all attacks possible to an- cient methods of Avarfare. It Avas to this highly-esteemed and poAverful location that the prophet referred Avhen he ex- claimed, “ Woe to them that are at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria.” (Amos vi. 1.) The hill is quite a mile long, and one half as Avide. !More than nine hundred years before Christ, and just before Ahab’s reign, the Avicked Omri, king of Israel, Avho did Avorse than all that Avere before him, bought this hill (toAA-n and all) of Shemer for tAVO tal- 408 THE HOLY LAND. There are now only a few houses in Samaria — prohablj’' not more than thirty or forty rude huts. Yet the ruins of its former splendor are not lacking. The towers of the gateway ents of silver (three thousand five hundred and thirty-five dollars) ; and on the hill he built Shomeron, as it was called in the Hebrew, but known as Samaria. (I. Kings xvi. 24.) It continued to be the capital of the ten tribes up to the time when they were carried away captive by Shalmaneser, king of Assyria, seven hundred and twenty years before Christ. Somewhere here tlu'y buried Avicked Ahab. (I. Kings xxii. 37.) Samaria was the seene of the eonlliets of Elijah and Elisha in the times when wicked rulers bore authority over Israel. ]\Iany are the scenes of battle and defeat which were Avit- nessed beloAV this lofty hill. Here Elisha resided ; and it Avas to this city that Naaman from Damascus came as a leper ask- ing healing of the king, to Avhom he had been recommended by the king of Damascus; and here he at last came to the Projrhet Elisha, of Avhom he had learned through a captive maid of Israel. (II. Kings v. l-lo.) Down the valley toward Jordan he at last drove his chariot to find liealing in its tur- bid flood. CHURCH OF ST. JOHN. 409 to the great colonnade, erected by Herod the Great, are still standing at the western end of the hill. Herod greatly beauti- fied Samaria and adorned it with temples and a tremendous col- onnade, which extended almost, if not entirely, the circuit of the hill. This colonnade is about half way up the slope of the hill, and is over fifty feet wide. I counted over one hundred stone columns standing along beside the great colonnade once so beautiful and grand. These columns are of limestone, perfectly round, about two feet in diameter, and sixteen feet high. The colonnade certainly extended over three thousand feet, or quite over a half mile. Lieutenant Conder thinks it extended a circuit of five thousand five hundred feet. Many of these columns have been thrown down, and lie scattered and broken, or half hidden in the dirt, pr built into the ter- races and walls on the hill-side. There are also vast ruins of amphitheaters and temples which I visited, which crown the north-eastern end of the hill. The real design and char- acter of some of the structures, the ruins of which are here, have not been fully discovered. At the ea.stern end of ancient Samaria is the Church of St. John in a dilapidated condition. It was built by the crusaders about seven hundred years ago. By them it was held that John the Baptist was buried here. The roof is gone and the walls are falling into decay. Within it is built an independ- ent structure with a dome, as a mosque. We alighted from our horses and s]>ent some time in examining this curious place. The whole is now a sacred Mohammedan quarter. Entering the first door through heavy walls, we were in a large open court. From this we descended into a grotto, or cham- ber, far below. We crept slowly down thirty-two steps to what the priest told us was the tomb of John the Baptist. AVe were in a large chamber. The tomb is pointed out under a stone slab. I was the more surprised here ahso by being shown the tombs of Elisha and Obadiah. I held a burning taper to the little opening about eight inches in diameter into the vault, and could see what seemed to be some decayed bones, dirt, and broken pottery. These prophets were buried 410 THE HOLY LAND. somewhere, and probably some of them here in Samaria — here down in this cavern cut so deejily in the solid rock. But ■who can tell ? One looks at these places with something akin to astonishment, but would bring insult to his guide if he dared to intimate that he did not' believe these traditions. The men and boys here seemed to have more antiquities and coin than at any other place. Dozens of boys crowded around us with antique” to 'sell. They were anxious to sell them and to get backshish. The gardens of olive-trees and lemons and figs about Samaria are very beautiful. As I stood on the summit of the hill covered by the ruins of ancient Samaria, looking down upon the surrounding val- leys and hills beyond, how vividly came to mind the events which crowded the illustrious life of Elisha here. When the armies of Syria lay siege against this city, the old prophet’s head had been threatened by the king, and starvation had fal- len to those crowded within the walls. When Elisha's head Avas under sentence of the king, and want and starvation stalked in every home, the old prophet, dwelling in his own house, declared that on the morrow a measure of fine flour should be sold for a shekel (fifty-eight cent.s) and two meas- ures of barley for a shekel, in Samaria. Down there at the gate lay four lepers Avho were dying. They rose in the mad- ness of their hunger and Avent to the Syrian camp in search of food. That evening the hills and valleys around resounded Avith a noise of horses and chariots, Avhich seemed to be gath- ering for battle, until the Syrians fled doAvn the valley Farah, toAvard the .Jordan, the great highway to Gilead, in utter con- sternation. (II. Kings vii. 6.) At every step they heard the tramp of pursuing re-enforcements to Israel. But it was the voice of the Almighty! Thus the lepers found A^acated tents filled Avith gold and silver and food. Back to Samaria they brought the glad tidings of relief ; and the prophecy of Elisha Avas fulfilled, and two measures of barley were sold for a shekel, in this city where the day before an ass’s head was sold for eighty pieces of silver. Nearly a thousand years after this striking event, Philip, the evangelist, preached the gospel SIGJIT OF EBAL AND GERIZIM. 411 here; and the simple story tells us “there was great joy in that city.” (Acts viii. 5.) To this jdace came Peter and John, sent b}' the church at Jerusalem, to perfect the work of the Lord so wondrously begun by Philip, in preaching and the working of miracles. It was here that Peter came in contact with Simon, who offered money for apostolic power to bestow the Holy Ghost by ep and had fifteen feet of water in it. Ilebard and Hornes, in May, A. D. 1S2S, found the well dry but about the same depth as stated above. In A. H. 1843, Dr. Wilson found it seventy-five feet deep. M"hen Conder measured it in 1877, he found it the same depth. It has been filled up thirty or forty feet by stone and dirt. It was entirely dry when we visited it. In the plains below, the men were plowing with oxen. There were no rude Arabs here to torment us, as was often the case^ where we so much coveted to be alone. We were sure that we were at the very spot where Je.sus conversed with the woman until she left her water-pot and went hastily into the city and said to the men, “ Come and see a man which told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?” How 432 THE HOLY LAND. precious the "words as we read them there by the well, “ Who- soever shall drink of this water shall thirst again, but whoso- ever shall drink of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a Avell of Avater springing up into everlasting life.” Oh, won- derful words of Jesus uttered here ! Nor have they lost their value, lie stills gives the Avater of life to the thirsty; and so I jArayed, “Give me this Avater that I thirst not.” About us AA'ere the same scenes upon Avhich Jesus looked as he uttered these memorable Avords. Standing beside the same Avell Avhere Jesus sat, our company Avith reverent attention listened to the Avriter as he read the thrilling account of Christ's conversa- tion Avith the Avoman as recorded by the evangelist. (John iv. 5-30.) We looked upon the valley of Shechem, up which his disciples had gone to buy bread. Our eyes rested ujAOn “this mountain ” Gerizim to Avhich the Savior’s eA’CS folloAved the gesture of the Avoman Avhen she asked of him the laAV- ful place of Avorship, and to Avhich the SaAuor pointed Avhen he said to her, “The hour cometh Avhen ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, AVorship the Father;” but “the true Avorshipers shall Avorship the Father in spirit and in truth.” (John iA'. 23.) Turning our faces eastAvard, there Avere the men ploAving in the same “fields” OA'er Avhich Jesus looked Avhen he said to his disciples, “Say not ye. There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest ! ” and from Avhich he lifted their souls to the spiritual realm, exclaiming, “Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are Avhite already to harvest.” (John iv. 35.) From the very spot Avhere Ave Avere standing, Jesus, entreated by the people, Avalked sloAvly across the narrow plain to the city, tliere to spend “tAVO days” in teaching the Samaritans the Avay of eternal life. IIoAV I longed to knoAV Avhere he abode and Avho enter- tained him ! Half a mile distant from Jacob’s well, and full in sight, at the base of Ebal is a little group of mud-houses composing a village called Askar. Its rock-cut tombs and other features suggest that it occupies the site of an ancient city. And here ASKAR. 433 no doubt was the “ city of Samaria, which is called Sychar,” a statement, as Conder well suggests, not likely to have been made of a place so well known as Shechem. The early Chris- tians recognized Sychar as a place a mile east of Shechem. The modern Askar has its name possibly through the Samar- itan.s, from “Ischar,” a vulgar pronunciation of Sychar. (See Tent -Work in Palestine, Vol. 1. page 41.) The plain of Moreh, called Makhnah, is a fertile valley about seven miles long from north to south, and from one and a half to two miles wide. Three or four miles below .Jacob’s well, in the plain, is the village Axcerta, where two tombs are shown which the Samaritans and Mohammedans hold to have been the site of the graves of Eleazar and Phinehas. (Joshua xxiv. 33.) We turned our course from Jacob's well, jumped our horses over the broken-down stone wall Which incloses a square twenty or thirty yards each way, took the last look at Balata, which probably marks the place of the .sacred oak, and di- rected our way down the plain, with a view of reaching Shi- loh. Doing so we had “passed through Samaria” and were now in Judea, the southern division of the land in the time of Christ. With every step of the way I found my heart more absorbed in the land. We were now crossing and winding about the northern hills of Judea, and by the same route often traveled by the Savior, and were climbing over the same steeps up which Paul and Barnabas and Titu.s, with others from Antioch, pa.^^sed to the great church-council at Jerusa- lem. Along the same hill-side where we rode, once and for centuries trod the tribes of Israel as they Avent up to Shiloh, there to Avorship before the tabernacle during the long reign of the judges. From this point soutliAvard to .Jerusalem the whole country is croAvded with historic associations. Almost every prominent hill in this land of Ephraim and Benjamin was once the site of some city where long ago lived and died some Bible hero, or Avhere occurred some battle-scene, the memory of which bedecks it AA’ith a mystic charm and glory. 28 CHAPTER XVII. Khan Sawich — Lebonah — Shiloh — Tabernacle — Altar of Incense — Ark of the Covenant — High-Priest— Home of Samuel — Eli — Robbers’ Fountain — View from Bethel — Mizpeh — Bethel — View of Jerusalem — Events at Bethel — Over the Quarantine Mountains — Camp at Jericho. Si^FTER passing out of the plain of Moreh and cross- ly ing over hills and narrow valleys, we lunched at an old khan called* Khan Sawich. I shall never forget tlie company of stout, half-naked women and children who carried water for our lunch and to our horses. Some ' of them climbed into a great oak, Zaccheus-like, to get a good view of the company, and there sat on a limb of the tree, doubtless hungering for our lunch. Here we most prob- ablv cross the line which divided Judea from Samaria. Here and there are well-watered valleys, but the country is exceed- inglv mountainous. The ranges and peaks are much higher than in other pa its of Palestine, and the valleys are deep and rockv. Some of the hills I saw were finely terraced and thickly set with olive-trees. Men were engaged in plowing in the same manner as described on page 330, and preparing the ground for the reception of seed. The olive-berries were being gathered by the women and children, who were singing some coarse songs in unmusical strains. We visited Lubben on the way, an old, uninteresting town, which doubtless stands on the site of ancient Lebonah. (Judges xxi. 19.) Here we turned to the left to visit the secluded and for ages the un- known site of ancient Shiloh, known now under the name of Sfiilun. We rode up a rough, narrow valley surrounded by rocky hills. Whv Joshua established his head-quarters here 434 SHILOH. 485 and set up the tabernacle in tliis isolated and lununtainous place I can hardly sec, unless he did so from tlie fact that he wished to remain within the inheritance of the children of Joseph, to which by d.escent he belonged. But in turn- ing from the course of the great highway to visit IShiloh, one is reminded of what he may expect from reading the descrip- tion of the location of Siiiloli, “ A place which is on the north side of Bethel, on the east tide of tlie higlnvay that goeth THE TABEHNACLE AT SHILOH. ttp from Bethel to Shcchem, and on the south of Lebonah.” (Judges xxi. 19.) There are few ruins at Shiloh, and what these are in their full history is not certainly known. The small hill on which Shiloh once stf»od is now thickly cov- ered with hlack, weather-beaten ruins. There is a narrow valley running around the hill, which is itself surrounded by hills which tower sev(>ral hundred feet high. At the southern slope of the Shiloh hill are the stout ruins of an old mosque. 436 THE HOLY LAND. called “The Mosque of the Servants of God.” Its ruined walls are shaded by a fine massive oak-tree. On the north of the ruin-crowned hill is a peculiar plateau or scarp cut in the rock .so as to make a vast level spot. At places the cut is five or six feet deep. It was first discovered by Captain Wil- son, some years ago. It is the more remarkable from the fact that its measurements at once suggest it as the spot where the tabernacle once stood. It is four hundred feet long from ('.Ht to west and seven ty- seven feet wide, — just two feet wider than the tabernacle court. Its length would accommodate the tabernacle and court, and afford a level place in front for the wor- shipers. It is doubtless here that the taber- nacle stood in its honor as the altar of incense. dwelling-place of the Almighty more than three thou.s;ind years ago; and here the tribes went up to worship the God of Israel who had brought them up out of Egypt many centuries before the establi-shment of worship at Hebron or at Jerusa- lem. The reader will be pleased to see our illustration pre- 437 Y w r I TA HKliyACLE. senting the tabernacle with the' court surrounding it. In the court where the sacrifices were slain were the altar of burnt- ofiering directly in front of the tabernacle, which faced east- ward, and the brazen laver which stood between the altar of burnt-offering and the tabernacle. The tabernacle was divided 438 THE HOLY LAND. into two parts, the Most Holy place being separated from the Holy place by curtains. In the eastern part or entrance on the southern side or to tlie left sto id tlie golden candle-stick, to the north or right tlie table of shew-bread, and nearest the curtain inclosing the Most Holy place stood the altar of in- cense for the burning of incense before the Lord. Within the Most Holy place there Avas only the ark of the covenant over- laid Avith pure gold, on the lid of Avhich Avere the cherubim, and betAveen Avhose forms Avas the mercy-seat. In this ark of the covenant Avere “ the golden pot that had man- na, and Aaron's rod that budded, and the table of covenant.” (Exodus xxv. 10-22; xl. 20; Deuteron- omy X. 5; xxxi. 26; He- brews ix. 4.) Into this place, the holiest of all, only the high-jiriest Avas permitted to enter, and he “alone once every year, not Avithout blood, Avhich he offered for himself and for the crrc i’S of the peo- ple.” (Hebre ws ix. 7 ; Exodfis XXX. 10.) This entrance Avithin the A'cil must be also Avith a “ cen- ser full of burning coals of fire from off the altar be- fore the Lord,” in which censer Avas to burn sweet incense as he stood before the ark of the Lord, that the cloud of the incense should cover the mercy-seat. (Leviticus xvi. 12, 14.) During four hundred years this holy service was performed at Shiloh, until the Avicked sons of Eli carried the ark of God to battle and it Avas taken by the Philistines. HOME OF SAMUEL. 439 From the hill on which stood ancient Shiloh we rode south- ward a few hundred yards across the valley to a peculiar old ruin, probably an ancient synagogue, afterward converted into a Christian church of Byzantine architecture, and afterward into a Mohammedan mosque. It is built of solid masonry, and the walls on the outside are much thicker below than above. The building is thirty-seven feet square. The great door on the north is mounted with a heavy lintel, on which are vases and rosettes carved in bold relief. From earliest childhood I have been accustomed to frequently read the story of little Samuel, brought by Hannah to old Eli to have his home in the house of the Lord. (I. Samuel i. 24-28.) Here his feet once played over these valleys and his eyes once rested on these hills, then crowned with a beauty and glory which have long ago faded away. The scene rose before me like a picture which I can not now describe. It was here he heard the voice of God calling him in the night, saying, “Samuel, Sam- uel,” until he in his childish innocence went to Eli and asked for what he had called him. Here Joshua divid(“d the land to the tribes of Israel. Here old Eli died of sorrow when the bat- tle had gone sore against tlie army of Israel, and Phinehas and Ho2>hni, his .«ons, were slain, and the ark of God was carried away by the Philistines. (I. Samuel iv. 10-18.) Old Eli “sat by the way-side” doubtle.^s leading around the hill through the city to the northern part of the town, and not by the gate leading into the city, as is usually suitposed. Hence he “heard the noise of the crying ” of the people in the southern part o^ the town, where “the man of Benjamin ” first gave the sor- rowful tidings of the defeat of the hosts of Israel. There is a very interesting and striking story told by the author of Judges of a great strait to which the men of the tribe of Benjamin were once reduced for wives, being forbid- den, on account of some quarrel among the tribes, to marry women from any of the twelve tribes. Here at Shiloh when the daughters of the city went out to dance in the dances, by agreement of the authorities the men of Benjamin were hid- den in the vineyards, and every man came out and caught 440 THE HOLY LAND. himself a wife, and then returned with his booty to his own inheritance. (.Judges xxi. 16-24.) Josephus relates that this was in the times of Phinehas. The valley, where once gardens and vinej’ards were cultivated, is now poorly farmed ; and the barren hills all about present a view than which scarcely any could be more desolate. Tlicre are now no daughters of Shiloh to dance in the gardens. The sun was sinhing over the hills of Judea when we turned our faces southward, with the hope of reaching Bethel by the night. On our right and left were great mountain-like ridges and hills, — not gray or chalky, as in southern Judea, but glowing with a roseate appearance. Our way led down narrow lanes and rough passes, between stone walls under the shadow of lofty hills, terraced to the tojr and overgrown by olive-orchards of great beauty and fruitfulness. Women were busy thrashing the olives down and then picking them up, while lazy men sat around. Pensons on the hills in the dis- tance were following their rude plows, which were slowly drawn by small oxen, goaded now and then by the lazy driver. The way proved rough, and we could not make rapid progress. Some of the company were wearied and sick. We despaired of reaching Bethel that day and concluded to camp for the night in the valley of Bobbers’ Fountain, one of the wildest and most romantic places I ever saw. Long before the morning sun could smile on us in the deep valley of the Robbers’ Fountain our horses stood in front of the camp; and as our men were pulling up the stakes and taking down the tents and loading all upon the backs of the mules and donkeys we climbed into the saddle. By half past nine o'clock we had passed down the deep gorges beside great hills of stratified rock of limestone and flint, and over one stony ridge after another, and .were on a high hill just north of Bethel. From this i)lace we had a magnificent view of the land upon which our eyes had learned to look with ever- increasing delight. With every recurring morning the interest of our journey had increased. For weeks I had thought of the time when I should catch the first view of the bnly MIZPEH. 441 cit)’- Jerusalem. The hills about us were covered with great square limestones, through, around, and over which we forced our horses on to the highest point. What an enchanting view greeted us! Far over the hills of Judea to the right lay the ancient Mizpeh. Five miles north-west of Jerusalem, far up on a high mountain, four hundred feet above the highest points, is the holy city, and more than three thousand feet above the level of the sea. The Arabs call it Neb]/ Samwil. It was there that Samuel the prophet, three thousand years ago, assembled all Israel, commanding them to put away the strange gods Baalim and Ashtaroth, and serve the Lord only. There Samuel drew water and poured it out before the Lord, while the people fasted and refused to drink. There Samuel “cried unto the Lord” and offered a lamb as a burnt- offering, while the Philistines assembled for war in the valley below. Out of the mountain and the clouds which hung about it the Lord thundered that day with a “great thunder” upon the Philistines, and they were smitten before the Lord and before Israel. Yonder below Mizpeh, Samuel set up a stone and called it Eben-ezer (to this place, or to this time, has the Lord helped us). (I. Samuel vii. 12.) There Samuel made his regular visits, as well as to Gilgal and Bethel, to judge the people. (I. Samuel vii. 16.) Turning eastward a little way we came to the place where once stood the mighty Ai (Joshua vii. 2 and xii. 9), the first city attacked by Joshua after the capture of Jericho. Here the three thousand, elated with the triumph of Jericho, flee before the men of Ai, and are slain because of the sin of Achan (Joshua vii. 5) until the hearts of the people became as water for fear. Just south of where we were standing lay the site of ancient Bethel, crown- ing a hill similar to but smaller than the one upon which the tabernacle rested at Shiloh. As we stood here casting our eyes over all the vast theater of the events of illustrious centuries I could almost see the old prophet of God — Elijah — coming from Gilgal, clad in his goat-skin mantle, making his la.st visit to the schools of the prophets here at Bethel on his way to Jericho and the Jordan, 442 THE HOLY LAND. beyond which he is to be met by the chariot of fire from the heavenly country, drawn by steeds of flame. But what city is that far over the hills which our eyes rest upon right over Bethel ? Strange we have not seen it sooner! It looks as though it were only three or four miles away. We ask softly how far it is — for we have non- fully determined that it is the city toward which our thoughts have so often turned from our childhood. It is the city the name of which has become the symbol of sacredness, peace, and bliss in all quarters of the globe. In poetry and sacred and hallowed thought it has been held the type of the celestial “ city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.” Our eyes at last, at a distance of ten miles away, are looking at the holy city. Behold ! that is Jerusalem. !My head was uncovered, and emotions of wonder, of joy, of satisfaction, of delight, crowded upon the bosom. Two hours’ ride would bring us within its venerable walls. After all, this distant view is unsatisfactory. We shall come nearer to the city by and by. Still, its elevation and beautiful situation even at this dis- tance .struck me with admiration. Quite beyond it are the hills of Judea, about Bethlehem and toward Hebron. East- ward are the hills about the plain of Jericho, while in the distance rise full in sight the blue mountains of Moab, east of the Jordan valley, from the summit of which Moses surve^’ed the promised land. They appear to be only a dozen miles away, while indeed they are more than twice that distance. They seem to slope suddenly down to the Jordan valley. We are at Bethel, and must not forget that “ this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” (Gene- sis xxviii. 17.) So, at least, it proved to Jacob, three thousand six hundred and forty-three years ago, when he came up this rocky hill, then as now so stony that during the night he could do no better for a pillow to place under his weary head than to choose a hard stone, possibly taken from the rude altar formerly piled up by his grandfather Abraham. But even we may learn that stones under our head in life’s night may be soft indeed if they but hold our heads while heaven opens and the angels ascend and descend before us. BETHEL. 443 The present name of Bethel is Beitin. Its earliest name is Lnz, by Avhich it was called in the time of Abraham. Bethel, next to Sheehem, is the most ancient place in Palestine men- tioned in the Bible. Here between Ai and Bethel, Abraham established a holy place unto the Lord (Genesis xii. 8) when he first came into Canaan. No doubt he camped outside of the town of Luz, and hence the record in speaking of Jacob's coming here one hundred and sixty years afterward calls it a “/jfacc,” and a “certain place,” using the word place four times in the chapter containing the account. (Genesis xxxv.) This doubtless has reference to the sanctuary or Holy place where Abraham had built an altar unto the Lord. Here Jacob had his glorious night- vision when the ladder reached from the place where he lay to the heaven far away, from which the angels of God were coming down. Here he rose and planted one of the stones, which had serv'ed as a pillow, as a pillar be- fore the Lord, and where afterward he should build an altar to the Lord. More than a quarter of a century afterward .Jacob came again to Luz and built an altar unto the Lord, and called the place Bethel. (Genesis xxxv. 15.) Here also the Lord changed Jacob’s name to Israel. (Genesis xxxv. 10.) Here below the town they buried Deborah, the nurse of Rebekah, and from this spot Jacob removed his camp to bury Rachel at his next encampment. From an expression in the history of Samuel (I. Samuel x. 3), in the anointing of Saul, it seems probable that Samuel not only visited Bethel to judge Israel, but here offered sacrifices to the Lord. Here long afterward Jeroboam set up a calf of gold as an idol-god for the adoration of Israel. (I. Kings xii. 29.) Here the lone prophet of God met Jeroboam beside the altar over which the extended arm of the king withered, paralyzed, and dried up under the blighting curse of the Almighty, whose altars he had dishonored and forsaken. (I. Kings xiii. 4.) To this place came the good young Josiah to break down the altars of Baal; and here at Bethel he burned the very bones of the priests of the false gods upon their altars. (II. Kings xxiii. 16.) Our minds stagger at the changes and conflicts which have transpired here on the 444 THE HOLY LAND. grounds over which we gaze. How conflicting and how un- timely wicked many of the years and actors which throw their threads through the ages which make up the history of these hills ! The prophet declared that “ Bethel shall come to naught.” (Amos V. 5). And how literally this has been fulfilled. There are only a few ruins, and these are unworthy of mention here, and the town is composed of rude hovels in w'hich perhaps four or five hundred people live. Stone walls surround what might seem to be gardens and fields sown, but for the fact that they are little more than great beds of stone. We rode down to the fountain below the town and halted for a time and examined the pool, which is about ten feet wide and twelve feet long, and nearly six feet deeji. Below the pool are traces of a large reservoir partly cut out of solid rock, with a rock bottom, only partly exposed to sight. This pool was originally about ten feet deep and three hundred and seven- teen feet by two hundred and fourteen feet in length and width. The people in Bethel do not look as if they made much use of the pool for ablution, being really filthy and dis- gusting in appearance. They looked at our company with utter amazement. From Bethel w’e turned our course toward the valley of the Jordan. In a few moments w'e came upon an eminence a little di.stance east of Bethel, from which we had our first view of the Dead Sea beyond the gray hills of Judea and bedded low dowm in the Jordan valley at the foot of the darker mountains of Moab. Its dark bosom lay like a cloudy plain, nestled far down below the hills on either side, while a mist thinly hung over it like a veil of cloud. One half of the Dead Sea is vi.sible from the knoll close to Ai. We took time to examine some rock-cut tombs and caves and cisterns near the town Der Diwan. These no doubt mark the site of ancient Ai. Northward from the towm, across the valley cor- responding with the Bible record (Joshua viii. 11-14), Joshua encamped the armies of Israel, wdiile he set five thousand men secretly in aml)ush on the w'est of the town, toward OVER THE Q[\IRAXT1XE MOUNTAIXS. 445 Bethel. By this means the people of Ai were decoyed to fol- low the retreating arm}" of Israel down the valley toward the Jordan, while those in ambush took and destroyed the city. These cisterns and caverns, with the remarkable correspond- ence of the place to the Bible description, warrant us in believing that we have indeed been on the site of ancient Ai, where, for the sin of Achan, Israel first suffered defeat after the conquest of Jericho (Joshua vii. 1-5), and where subse- quent victory was won, as before related. Turning from Ai toward the Jordan valley we had no road to travel on; but o\"er crooked and winding paths, over high mountain-like hills, crossing deep valleys, and above dreadful steeps, hundreds of feet, almost perpendicular, our way was followed. Sometimes the steeps were so precipitous that our fears or our judgment prevailed, and we walked and led our horses for a mile or more. Sometimes the hills about us were solid limestone, sometimes flint almost to agate, and then they were soft and white like chalk. Often we turned aside to examine the great cisterns cut deep in the solid rock. By one o’clock we began to descend the hills. This is one of the wildest and most desolate portions of all Palestine. The hills are varied in form, sometimes foi»ming in ridges, then conical in shape, with valleys cut deep and sharp below. These hills, on which here and there remained a little dead grass, are curved around with paths along which shepherds lead their flocks of sheep and goats. Before us spread out the entire valley of the Jordan, looking like a grayish, chalky bed of earth, cut through with a deep, winding channel, down which flows the crooked Jordan. In this barren and desolate mountain-region our Lord passed that indescribable sorrow of forty days and nights alone in fasting, and in battle with the powers of darkness, before entering upon his public ministry. Can it be that here in this dreary and barren wilderness of hills and rocks our loving Lord, solitary and alone, girded upon himself that eternal endurance of love and suffering from which he never shrunk, but which he completed in his death on the cross and his triumph over death and his ascen- 446 THE HOLY LAND. sion to his Father and our Father? It was a wild and daring and yet melancholy introduction to a wonderful life, which from the first to the last surprises us more and more at every step. But over these heights we steadily pursued our journe}', and thus a hard day wore slowl}" away. Some of the coni2)any murmured somewhat at our guide, su^^posing that he should have led us by a better route. Our caravan had gone directly from the valley of the Robbers’ Fountain “down to .Jericho.’-’ One of our cooks, who was enticed from our caravan to fol- low some wild fowl, lost his wa}', and s^icnt tlie niglit in the mountains. In the mountains of temptation I learned to stick close to the divine Ouide in tlu; }>hice and time of assault from the tempter. The shadows of the mountains were stretching across the Jordan valley when we climbed down tlie rocky steei)s and at last, in the evening shadows, found our way along the gravelly beds of streams of water, now dry, and over jJains in which were Bedouin camps and flocks. In an hour our familiar tents were erected on the site of ancient Jericho, of Jo.shua’s time. A comixiny of soldiers from Jerusalem at our order liad come out to protect us from thieves; and we felt sure we should i)ass the days in safety, and without “falling among thieves,” as one did of olden times when he would go down to Jericho. I spent an hour examining the peculiar mound back of our camp, and in taking a bath in the stream flowing from Elisha’s Fountain. I passed the evening hour with many a wondering look ui)on the mountains of IMoal), eastward be- yond the Jordan, and many a subdued meditation as I gazed ui)on the Quarantine mountain half a mile west, into which Jesus was led by the 8j)irit to j)ass those forty dreadful days of conflict in the slojjcs and gorges and heights and barren peaks, over which we had come from Bethel. After making my accustomed registers for*the day, which reminded me that it was thirty-seven years since God gave me a being in the world (November 15, 1844), thankful and wearied I crept into my cot and fell asleep. CHAPTER XVIII. Valley of the Jordan — River Jordan — Plain — Cities of the Plain — Jeri- cho— Elisha’s Fountain — Quarantine Jlountain — (lilgal — Sodom and Gomorrah — Dead Sea — Bethabara — Pilgrims to the .Jordan. ITII our camp at .Jericho we had tirranged to spend two days in the valley of the -Iordan. We had ([uit the Jordan valley at the Sea of Galilee to visit that section of country lying westward toward the great sea. The Jordan valley, wliich may be regarded as a contin- L nation of the Cade-Syrian valley in Syria, is one of the mo.st remarkable formations on the globe. The Jordan river, the sources of which have been de.scribed on ])age 342, flows through the entire valley from Banias or Caesarea Philippi to the Dead Sea. From Banias to Lake Iluleh, or the waters of ]\Ierom, twelve miles, the Jordan falls almost one thousand feet. This lake is four miles long, and from its southern end to the northern end of the Sea of Galilee is a distance of ten and one half miles. From Merom to the Sea of Galilee the fall is about si.x hundred and eighty-two feet. This sea is twelve and a half miles long, and from its southern end to the Dead Sea is a distance of ti.\ty-five miles in a straight line. Thus the total length of the Jordan, including the lakes, is one hundred and four miles. From its rise to the Sea of Galilee, which is six hundred and eighty-two feet below the Mediter- ranean, the fall of the Jordan is over sixty feet to the mile. The Dead Sea is six hundred and ten feet lower than the Sea of Galilee, and one thousand two hundred and ninety-two feet below the sea-level, so that in the Jordan, from the Sea of Galilee to the Dead Sea there is a fall of .six hundred and ten 417 448 THE HOLY LAND. feet — an average of oyer nine feet fall to the mile. It has but four perennial tributaries in this entire course, — t\vo on the east and two on the west side. Those on the west are the Julud, flowing down from the valley of Jezreel, and the Farah coming down from Ebal. furnishing the “much water” of Enon near Salim, where John was baptizing. Those on the east are Yarmuk, about six miles south of the Sea of Galilee, and Zerka, the ancient river Jabbok, fartlier south, mentioned in Genesis xxxii. 22. Besides these, there are many winter streams which flow down in the rainy season. The valley of the Jordan varies in width from four to four- teen miles. Above iMerom it is five or six miles wide. Some places below the Sea of Galilee it is only four miles, while at one place for a distance of almost a dozen miles it is only about three miles in width, with the Jordan almost entirely on the west. The plain is widest opposite ancient Jericho. Here it is, for a distance of eight miles above the Dead Sea, about fourteen miles in width. N It is a level plain coursed here and there with streams of water from the western hills, which make it productive. Our tents were pitched on an elevation which doubtless once was inclosed b}^ the walls of the Jericho of the times of Joshua. There al'e no inhabitants of this ancient city, which is now but a mound of debris. Xor does the traveler expect to find a remnant of a city of such ancient times, and which Joshua declared should not be rebuilt. (Jo.shua vi. 26.) In visiting this region there conies over one an indescribable feeling of disappointment. He remembers the times of Abraham and Lot, and the destruc- tion of the cities of the plain. He thinks of the pleading of the patriarch for the sparing of the city, and of the little procession following Lot led by the angel out of Sodom. Then there rises before the fancy the teeming throngs of Israel here led into Canaan, and their camp two miles away at Gilgal, and the long line of events which connect down to the times of Samuel and Saul. He remembers the visits of Jesus to the “City of Palm-trees,” as Jericho was once called. But all these events have left no traces here. The ELISHA ’S FO UNTAIN. 449 soa, the Jordan, the plain, the adjacent mountains, the brook Cherith, the mountains of Moab and towering Xebo east of the Jordan, all correspond precisely with the Bible record. But we look in vain for the cities of history. Sodom, Gomor- rah, Zoar, Jericho, Gilgal, — where are they? Everything about us as we lay eamjjcd at Jericho told me that we were walking in the jJain over which the ancient leader of Israel traveled, where Samuel and Saul met face to face, and where Jesus himself was entertained in the house Zaccheus. But of all that was living here in those ages, naught remains. The entire ruins of the cities of the plain have been swept away with the decay of ages, while only the site of .Jericho and Gilgal can with evident certainty be looked upon by the traveler. There is one fountain which gurgles up as in ancient time and offers the traveler its refreshing draught as it did nearly twenty-eight centuries ago. It flows from under the hill on which the ancient Jericho of Joshua's time was built. It is to this day called Elisha's Fountain. It gurgles gently out from beneath the hill and flows over a beautiful ])ebble bot- tom into a basin of hewed stone about forty feet long and twenty-five feet wide. Small fish sport in this ba.sin, and birds of song warble and make music in the thorny bushes of zizyphu^, chrlsti, and balanite-^, or balsam - tree, and other thick underwood which grow in the jilaiu below. This fountain is one of the most delightful in all Palestine. Tra- dition from the first has held it,to be the water which Elisha healed with a cruse of salt while he remained at Jericho soon after the ascension of Elijah. The situation of the city was pleasant but the water was naught, and therefore the land was barren. But Elisha “went forth i;nto the spring of the waters, and cast the salt in there, and said. Thus saith the Lord, I have healed these waters.” (II. Kings ii. 21.) On the evening of our arrival at this place as a few of our company were enjoying the cool, fresh water of Elisha’s spring, the waters of which are “healed unto this day, according to the saying of Elisha,” an old man came down with two goat-skin bottles 29 4.50 THE HOLY LAND. and a donkey and with liis washing. He went into the pool of w'ater and did up his washing, which consisted of a Bedouin cloak and a gown. After giving them several good beatings with stones and some wringings he filled his goat-skins with water Avhere he had been washing, put them on his little donke}’, and turned aside to hunt his camp some distance away. Aucieirt Jericho was situated nearl}' a mile from “the mount- ain ” to wdiich the spies fled Avhen slieltered and directed by Rahab. (.Joshr;a ii. 22.) South and west a mile or more from Elisha’s Fountain are some of the ruins of the aqueducts and towers of the Jericho of Christ’s time, while over two miles south and east of the ancient Jericho is a miserable village of stone and mud huts known as modern Jericho. To the west only a mile away from the site of ancient Jericho suddenly rise the Quarantine mountains, a thousand feet in height. They are of grayish chalky rocks, and the entire extent of their eastern declivity is cut thick with caves and dens and tombs, which are the resort of hermits and wandering Bedou- ins. Into these gray mountain-heights, forming a perfect wil- derness, Jesus was led by the Spirit to the scene of his temptation. There in these lone mountains, Avhich must have then been well-nigh as barren as now, for forty days and forty nights he fought that lone conilict with the powers of hell, the full meaning of which will never be comprehended by man in his mortal estate. Over this plain east of Jericho, Israel first sjjread their tents Avhen Joshua led the people of God into the long-promised land. To this Jericho where we are camped came the sj)ies from east of the Jordan to search out the country. And the kindly Rahab lived here, who sheltered these tw'o men of Israel, covering them in the stalks of flax wdiich she had laid in order mion the roof. While the men of Jericho searched for the si>ics and pursued their way towuard the ford of the Jordan, the si)ies fled to the mountains close at hand. In some of these caves cut in the rocks, in which the hermits still shelter, they dw’elt three days, until the search for them was over, wdien they returned to Joshua. Q UARA^TiyE MO UN TAIN. 451 Around these mounds of moldcring ruins once stood the Avails Avhich fell doAvn like ashes before the breath of God. The priest of the Lord carried the ark of the covenant around the Availed and doomed city once each day for si.x days, Avhile seven priests bleAv with their trumpets. The armed men Avent before the triAinpeters and the ark of the covenant folloAved after, and all the people Avere silent until the seventh day. On the seventh daj' they encompassed the city sev'en times in the same manner; and that day the people shouted Avith a great shout, aud “the Avails fell doAvn flat, so that the people Avent ujA into the city, every man straight before him, and they took the city.” But the “line of scarlet thread” Avith Avhich Ilahab had let doAvn the spies over the Avail through the Avin- doAV, still hung in the AvindoAV as a memorial of her kindly deeds, and she, Avith her family, alone Avas spared. (Joshua vi. 12-27.) Joshua pronounced a curse upon any one Avho should ever attempt to rebuild the eity. This curse Avas fulfilled in the time of Ahab, aljout five hundred and fifty-six years after- AA’ard, in the sorroAv Avhich came to the house of Kiel the Bethelite. (I. Kings xvi. 34.) Thus the city of splendor and renown is a heap of ruins until this da}'. Roman Jericho, upon the brook Cherith, Avas a splendid city. Around it Avere the groves of ])alms and gardens of balsam. Herod adorned it Avith royal splendor; and here he ended his earthly career. This Jericho Avas often visited by the feet of our Savior. Here dAvelt Zaccheus, the publican of wealth Avho climbed the sycamore-tree, the branches of which stretched OA’er the highwa}', to see the IMaster as he passed by. (Luke xix. 1-10.) Blind Bartinifeus once sat by the side of one of the thoroughfares here Avhen Jesus of Nazareth passed by and healed him. (Mark x. 46.) It was here that Christ uttered that Avonderful parable of the nobleman who delivered the pounds to his servants. And after such teachings and after the sa\dng of Zaccheus and Bartimaeus he ascended the mountains toAvard Jerusalem, and from Bethany made his triumphal entrance into the city of the great King. Tavo miles directly east of Jericho is the site of ancient Gil- 452 THE HOLY I. AND. gal. Its location has long been a matter of grave doubt ; but the more recent English survey's have beyond doubt deter- mined upon the precise site. It is known in the locality under the name Jiljulieh. It is .said that Israel “encamped in Gilgal, in the east border of Jericho” (Joshua iv. 19); and this agrees precisely with the site fixed upon by Lieutenant Conder. The native Bedouins know the jdace under the name Shejeret el Ithleh, — the tamarisk-tree, — on account of a large tamarisk-tree which stands close to the ruins. It is hardly to be supposed that any considerable ruin of tlie cit}* of Joshua’s time would be found, and yet the little mounds, of wliich there are a dozen, are probably remains of buildings which once composed ancient Gilgal. The remnants of an old pool exist here. It is called Birket Jiljulieh — the pool of Gilgal. The location of the cities of the plain, — Sodom, Gomorrah, Admail, Zeboiim and Zoar, which, except the last named, were overthrown by Jehovah in the day that “the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven ” (Genesis xix. 24), is unknown to man. There is not a trace of any kind to direct the re- searcher to the place of awful doom. We only know that they were “in the vale of Siddim, which is the Salt Sea.” (Genesis xiv. 3.) In what part of the valley lying about the Dead Sea they were, we might venture to conjecture, but it would be nothing more' than a guess. Some of the Jews, among them Josephus, believed that these doomed cities are buried beneath the southern part of the Dead Sea. The Mo- hammedans hold this tradition and call it La'ke Asphaltites. Dr. Thompson believes this is the case, and that the well- watered region as described in the 5Io.saic account, “like the land of Egypt, as thou comest unto Zoar” (Genesis xiii. 10), was irrigated by the si:)reading out of the lake in the rainy season. He also thinks that the saltness of the sea dates from this destruction period. I can see little more than a conject- ure in this theory. God alone knows where these cities stood. As I traversed these plains my eyes often turned to the mountains east of the Dead Sea, and upon the tall peak DEAD SEA. 453 which Moses, the meek man of (iod, ascended to look from Nebo over all the land from the south even to Ilermon, the land into which Israel sliould enter while he should die in the mount where the. Lord would bury him, and his soul enter into the heavenly Canaan of which this fair land was only a faint type. As the sun slowly crept down be}’ond the Quar- antine mountains to the west of the valley, tliese mountains of Meal) became dressed in a garb of dark-inirple hue, wliich farther southward had a soft, light-purple shade which deep- ened as the darkness came on, and ])resentcd a shading of mellow beauty such as is seldom beheld anywhere on our globe. On the morning of November 16th we rose early for a trip to the Dead Sea. Just as the sun was rising above the mount- ains of ]\Ioah we were in the .saddle. The rising sun pui’2)led the mountains and the clouds to a beautiful pageant. The air was cool and pleasant, and soon the sun was concealed behind a cloud, where all fondl}" hoped it would have the kindness to remain for the day. This earnest wish was for the most part realized ; for greatly to our comfort we saw the sun only a few times, and then hut for a few minutes, until the lu'ated hours of noon were quite ])ast. On oux way we Avere guarded by three soldiers, wdio delighted to show their horsemanship. Some of the guards remained with the tents. Those accompanying us delighted to galloii back and forth and make a display of their skill in riding, as Avell the fleetne.ss of their horses, and the arms they carried. They wore the heavy Bedouin cloak, Avhile their heads were tied up in a ker- chief of silk of gay colors and many tassels. Pas.sing the modern Jericho, around which are some pretty gardens and orchards, we saw great flocks of goats feeding on the plains. Much of the plain is overgrown Avith thorny .shrubs. Where it is Avatered and cultivated it is very productive. The water was floAving over a number of farms, and the neAvly-.soAvn grain had sprung up beautifully and covered the earth with a deep green. Here Ave saAv the thorny Spina Christi, of A'/hich it is said the croAvn of thorns Avas made Avhich Avas put upon the 454 THE HOLY LAND. head of Christ. (Matthew xxvii. 29.) It is certainly the most prickly and thorny growth I ever saw. These natives cut it and pile it up in rows about their gardens for fences. Below Jericho we crossed the bed of the brook Cherith, the stream beside which Elijah was fed by the ravens, probably farther up, where it comes out of the deep ravine in the Quarantine mountains. The streaiji was entirely dry, though the bed shows that at times large quantities of water flow down here. This bed of the brook is doubtless the valley of Achor, Avhere Achin was stoned to death. (Joshua vii. 26.) All the way down the Dead Sea is in full sight, and appeared from the first to be only a few miles away. After riding an hour it seemed quite as far off as when we started. We found that it required a ride of at least ten miles to reach the sea. When Avithin tAvo or three miles of the Dead Sea the land becomes more a Avaste for a mile or so, Avhen the A'alley be- comes absolutely barren. Even the thorns can not groAV here. Every uoav and then as Ave rode on .south-east toAA'ard the sea Ave suddenly descended from ten to tAventy feet to find our- selves on a loAver plain. This continued until Ave found at last that AA'e had descended hundreds of feet. These loAver plains are Avhitish clay, crusted over Avith salt, so that in some places the crust of salt seemed almost an eighth of an inch in thickness. Close about the .sea were large flocks of buzzards, I should judge tAvice as large as the American buzzard. A haze or mist hangs over the sea, so that one can not see clearly its shores, as can be done at the Sea of Galilee. I haA'e heard it stated that no living thing can fly over this sea of death ; but this is a mistake. I saAV a number of foAvls flying far out OA'er it, some small, but others large-looking, like the mud-hen. The Dead Sea is the most Avonderful sea in the Avorld. Its bosom is clear as crystal, though constantly fed by the muddy Jordan. It is one thousand, two hundred and ninety-tAvo feet below the level of the INIediterranean Sea. It is forty-six miles long, and at the broadest place ten miles wide. Its greatest depth is gi\'en by Lynch at one thousand three hun- dred and ten feet, and its mean depth at one thousand and DEAD SEA. 455 eighty feet. It lies two thousand four hundred and ninety- four feet below the city of Jerusalem. Its depth varies a few feet each }'ear — Condcr sa}’s not more than two feet. It is calculated that six million tons of water flow into it daily. It is thirteen per cent solid salt. It is not po.s.sible for the sea to have any outlet; and though shut in by the mountains of Moab — the grand monumental tomb of Moses — on the east and the steep mountains of Judea on the west, with the heavy current of the Jordan and many other streams pouring into it, still it is never full. How this small sea, only forty- six miles long and ten miles wide at the widest point, can evaporate so rapidly is a marvel in the things of nature. The THE DEAD SEA. lands about the sea are barren and desolate ; but the gravel beach and calm, clear water, scarcely disturbed by a breeze, spread out a scene of beauty before our eyes which one can never forget. There is no ship or boat on the sea in which one might have a sail over the deep. Most of our company took a bath in this salt sea. I tied my pony to a dead branch of a tree, which had doubtless been washed down the Jordan and drifted to the shore, and ad- dressed myself to a bath in this renowned water. I had heard many stories about the saltness of the water, hut could scarcely believe that which looked so clear and beautiful could 456 THE HOLY LAND. be so disagreeable. My first effort 'vvas to take a dive. This I should never repeat. The effort to get under the water was a failure, to begin with. The salty fluid got into my ears, mouth, nose, and eyes. Oh ! it seemed as if it would surely put my eyes out. MTien these sensations of pain were over I had the most delightful feelings. The Avater seemed soft as oil. In it, or on it, I swam and floated for an hour, loath at last to leave it. The Avater is so heavy that it bears the body up fully one fourth ahoA'e the surface. Thus I could not sink, but floated like a feather. It is difficult to SAA'im on the breast, because of the feet being lifted out of the Avater; but turning the body on the back, and elevating the head till the neck and shoulders are above the Avater, one can drive himself Avith great speed. I found it easy to sit up in the Avater; and the head, neck, and shoulders Avould bo entirely above the surface. One of our comj)any, Avho Avas fond of novelty, after swimming a long distance fi'oni the shore lighted a pipe and actually took a smoke Avhile SAvimming about in the Avater. Upon coming out of the .sea and drying the body, instead of experi- encing a burning or itching from the saltness of the Avater, my skin felt soft and oily as if a coat of oil had been applied. Another place, of still greater interest, remained to be A'is- ited. In history, in poetry, and in song, the ri\'er Jordan is the most renoAvned and sacred on our globe. The classic Rhine, the Avonderful and life-giving Nile, ancient Tigris and the Eui)hrates, which are as old as the garden of Eden, and the poetic Tiber, all lose their sacredne.ss in the mind of the traveler as he approaches the banks of the deep and rapid Jordan. It Avas the last barrier to yield to the triumphant tread of Israel as they journeyed toAvard the long-promised Canaan. And so it became the fitting type of death, the Avaters of Avhich, as in a figure, floAV between the pilgrim and his long-sought heaAmnly home. A ride of an hour and a half from the Dead Sea across the plain brought us to the ford of the Jordan called Bethabara, about six miles from Avhere the Jordan empties into the Dead Sea. The Avater is muddy, caused by the banks through Avhich CROSSINO THE JORDAN AT BETUABARA. 458 THE HOLY LAND. it flows and the stream's rapid current. At the ford the river is about one hundred feet wide, and the current is strong and rapid. There are three beds to the river much of the distance where I examined it. These have their own peculiar banks, cut by the waters when at different heights. We rode thought- fully along through a dense forest of tamarisk, silver-poplar, terebinth, and Avillows, thickly set in with reeds and bushes of various kinds, intercoursed with little paths made by wild boars, when suddenly we halted on a jiretty sandy beach ; and just before us rolled the waters of the Jordan. The entire banks of the river are a jungle of trees and shrubs and reed, in which the bulbuls, nightingales, and turtle-doves in great numbers find a safe retreat. At the first I was disaj)pointed in the appearance of the Jordan. I could hardly realize that it was indeed the Jordan of the Bible I saw flowing before me. The stream was smaller than I had always supposed it to be, and its waters were more turbid than I had thought. Xo one would think of spending a dav at the Jordan without taking a bath in its renowned waters. I found the water disagreeably cold, and its muddy appearance Avas not at all inviting; yet with this mudd}’ and cold Avater I tried to Avash off the saltiness left from the bath in the Dead Sea, but succeeded only in part. For several da3^s I felt as if I had taken a hath in oil. Some of our company soon SAvam across the river; hut though thej^ Averc expert swimmers, thev Avere rapidly carried doAvn the current, and reached the Moah shore a great distance beloAV the ford. I resolved to jAroceed cautioush", and if possible wade a«ross the Jordan to the Moah side. This I succeeded in doing. The Avater came about half Avay up mv body, and I found it to be extremelA* difficult to hear up against the strong, cold current. Several of our company also Avaded across. Upon returning, I secured the assistance of one of the compaiiA^ to hold me from floating doAvn the current. When in the middle of the river I dived entireh' under the Avater, and as a reward brought home some very pretty pebbles, thus secured “ out of the midst of Jordan,” eA’eri as Joshua commanded “twelve PILGRIMS TO THE JORDAN. 459 men” to take up “ out of the place where the priests’ feet stood firm, twelve stones” (Joshua iv. 3), which were planted as a memorial unto the people. Here, also, in the midst of the Jordan, Joshua planted twelve stones, according to the tribes of Israel. While we were at Bethabara a company of Bedou- ins came to the ford, going over into the Moab country. They were all well armed, and their donkeys, of which they had about thirty, were loaded with goods. They were probably returning from Jerusalem to their country east of the Jor- dan. One lone woman in the company was seated upon a donkey and partly carried and partly floated across, attended by half a dozen stout Arabs. All the company soon disrobed, tied up their clothes and guns, and carried them across the river on their shoulders. They then returned and removed the loads from their donkeys and carried the loads across. Upon their I’eturn it seemed that they would proceed to carry the donkeys across also; but this they did not do. They were perhaps an hour driving them over, the water washing the smaller ones far down the river. On the other side they loaded up their beasts and disappeared beyond the bushy tamarisk- forests. This place is visited by thousands of European pilgrims every year. The time chosen is Easter Monday ; and the Latin and Greek pilgrims to the Holy Land form in pro- cession at Jerusalem and in soleinn order visit the place, bathe in the Jordan, put some water into bottles, with which they are provided, cut them a staff, and return towartl the holy city. They camp near the site of ancient Gilgal one night, then visit the sacred place, and again return to their place of bivouacing, where they eat, and late in the night silently resume their journey toward Jerusalem. Some of them bathe in the Jordan naked, while others have provided gowns which are ever afterward preserved sacred for their bur- ial. The Greek and Catholic Easters fortunately do not occur at the same time, so that there is no collision. However, here as at other places, their dislike to each other is manifested in each having their own place of bathing. It is said that as 460 THE HOLY LAND. many as five thousand Greek pilgrims come here at one time, upon a great Easter occasion. This is the traditional place where our Lord was baptized hy John when he entered u]>ou his public ministry. Of the cer- tainty of this tradition, it is not possible to speak. Lieuten- ant Conder argues with great strength against the tradition, holding that the baptism of Chri.st occurred much farther up the Jordan. Ilis princii)al argument against this place is its remoteness from Cana of Galilee, where Christ was the third day after the baptism. (John ii. 1.) This interpretation allows no place for the temptation in the chronology of events. So, it is not impossible that near here Jesus was bai)tized of John in the Jordan. The proximity of the “wilderness of Judea,” and Jerusalem, from which the people went out to John’s baptism, strongly sustains this tradition. (Matthew iii. 1, 5, 13-17.) The sun was sinking down toward the toj3 of the mountain of temptation across the valle}’' which lay before us as we turned our course westward toward our camp at Jericho. What memoi'ies cluster about these surrounding hills and mountains. What foot-iu'ints were once marked in the sands of this vast plain. Here Joshua led the ])COple of Israel into the promised land after the forty years’ wandering in the wil- derness. Northward from this place, perhaps a mile or more, God piled up the waters of the Jordan at the touch of the feet of the priests who bore the ark of the covenant. A wide passage was thus opened, and two and a half millioirs of wan- derers passed over to jiossess this goodly land. Before them was the promise of God and the presence of God as they swej)t over the plain of Jericho and encamped at Gilgal. Here Eli- sha followed, across the plain, the old prophet of God who wordd go beyond the .Iordan to meet the chariot of fire, deter- mined that his master should not escape his eye till the very gate^of heaven shut him out of sight. Here the Jordan, the stream long held as the symbol of death, parted asunder when the mantle smote it and the two went over on the other side. From some elevation east in these hills of Moab, Elijah RETROSPECTIVE. 461 stepped into the chariot of tire, and went up through the path of the clouds to the city of God. The same old mantle in the hands of Elisha again divided the Jordan, and the lone ])rophet came across this plain to Jericho to fight the battles of God, as his master had done, under the power of the same Spirit. Nearly' nine hundred years later the Me.«siah came down from Nazareth, and pressed his way through the crowds which thronged to the baptism of John, and here was recognized as the “Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.” And coming up out of the waters, from these same skies the Spirit of God like a dove descended and lighted upon him. And across this plain over which we have been wandering, and into these mountains just a mile west of our camp, he was led by the Spirit to he tempted of the devil. What walks are these we tread ! The foot-prints of God are here! To be permitted to look on those scenes and plains and ruins of cities and gray mountains, and to rest along the banks of the ‘Jordan under the pleasant tamarisk-shades, all of which speak to the heart with an eloquence divine of a history so illustrious and holy, brought a flood of joy to my soul the currents of which shall never cease. As the sun was sinking over the Quarantine mountains we rode up from the banks of the Jordan and crossed the plain six miles, to the site of ancient Gilgal, before described. After a little titiK' spent here we hastened to our camp at Jericho. CHAPTER XIX. Leaving Jericho — Thieves — Brook Cherith —Elijah Fed by the Ravens — Ravens — Wilderness of Judea — The Good Samaritan — Gazelles — Apostles’ Fountain — Stone of Rest — Bethany — Tomb of Lazarus — Clirist at Bethany — View of Jerusalem from Olives — Entering the Holy City. ~^X the 17th of November we quit our camp-life, tvhich, to say the least of it, is not a thing of unmixed com- fort. It was with peculiar pleasure that I arose from Tiny cot with the assurance that during the remainder of our sojourn in Palestine we should l^e more com- fortably quartered in hotels, where life would be some- what akin to the customs of Americans. When my associates in the tent awoke in the morning, I was delivering an elo- quent and afiectionate farewell address to my narrow bed on the ground. I repeated a short valedictory to the tent Avhich had sheltered me for a number of weeks. Before evening we hoped to enter the Holy City, to which for weeks we had been looking with ever-increasing anxiety. Our horses were sad- dled and brought in front of the camp ; and while the men were taking down the tents, which we did not expect to see again, we climbed into the saddle and filed out toward the “wilderness of Judea,” on our way toward Jerusalem. Our camp had been so well guarded by the Arab soldiers that no loss through thieves had been sustained by any of our company. We had escaped the fate of a “certain man” who, coming hither, “fell among thieves,” who wounded him sorely. We had the greater reminder of our good fortune from a cir- cumstance which came to our knowledge just as we were leaving Jericho. A woman came to the camp in great distress. 462 BROOK CHERITH. 463 She called u])on our guards, kissed their hands, and proceeded to tell a pitiful story. The previous night a band of thieves had entered the village where she lived and had robbed her house or tent, carried off her goods and donkey, and left her in pitiable sorrow. She begged that the soldiers might go in search of her goods. Our dragoman and com})anv consented that a part of the men who were engaged to attend us through the pass toward Jerusalem sliould go after the thieves, and if possible recover the woman’s goods and doukej". And so we said “good-by” to the “city of palm-trees.” Here in the ])lains about Jericho, however, we saw but one solitary palm. I do not believe there are more. A short time before entering the Wady Kelt, wliieh leads from Jericho to Jerusalem, we passed the Jericho of Christ’s time, to which we have al>ove referred. Here are remnants of an old pool and ar|ueduets of Roman times. Conder thinks he discovered the I’emains of five aqueducts. A little farther on are tlie great ruins of towers of strength, which must have been erected as forts to protect this passage toward Jerusalem. They are of ancient times, being mentioned by the writer’s of the early Christian centrrries. Crossing the brook Cherith, which comes out of the great wady, we found the road winding about up the wilde.st and yet gloomiest valley seen in all our ti’avels. Sometimes we could look down from the road almost per- pendicularly for nearl}’ two thou.sand feet, to the bed of the “brook Cherith that is before Jordan,” beside which doubtless the old Prophet Elijah was fed by the raveirs, who “brought him bread and tlesh in the morning, and bi’ead and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the brook.” (I. Kings xvii. 6.) Here the reader inquires if there are not doubts and ques- tionings about the genuineness of these traditions as to the events accredited to particular places. “ Is it really so, that this is the place where Elijah was fed by the ravens?” Let it be answered here, that there are not a few places where it would be extremely desirable to brush away all doubt. Re- specting this place, many have held that the Hebrew “Che- rith” and the Arabic “Kelt” are too remote from each other to 464 THE HOLY LAND. determine anything. Others, and Dr. Robinson among the number, assert that the changes necessary to make the words identical are often made. The author referred to is disposed to accept this valley of Kelt as the Cherith where Elijah was sheltered. Others have sought a place farther northward, mainly to find a place closer to Zarephath, and because they suppose it improbable that Elijah passed through the domin- ion of Ahab to reach Cherith. It is, however, much more likely that he passed through the country to reach this secluded place, than that we should find a place near the cap- ital of the enraged Jezebel simply to avoid the necessity of the prophet having made a few days’ journey from Phoenicia. It is not, however, within the scope of these pages to discuss the merit of the various claims of particular locations. The author has taken pains to look at the most reasonable dis- cussions, and aims to give what seems most rational, and what many researchers and scholars, though not all, have supj)orted. As to this Cherith, I find it quite reasonable to believe, that this deep gorge and those breasts of tbe Quaran- tine mountains, honey-combed with caves and tombs and chapels, are indeed the veritable solitary resting-place of the old Tishbite prophet Avhen God supplied him food by the wings of the ravens. I saw a number of these noble birds in Palestine. The first which attracted my attention was Avhen we were ascending the Lebanon mountains in Syria. Quite a number of these ra vens hovered over us, while Ave were quite close to one or tAvo. One followed us, flying above us for seA’eral miles. The raA’en, here, is a noble-looking bird. It closely resembles the American croAv, though its neck and head are more neat ; but it is three times as large. The gen- tleness of the bird in thus following us for an hour reminded me of tbe trying eA^ent in the life of Elijah, the prophet of God, in tbe time of tbe great drought in Israel. This Wady Kelt has its head near the road leading from Jerusalem to Bethel. Near the road from Jericho altog which we passed the rocks are cut doAvn almost perpendicularly for hundreds of feet, the valley being often not over one hundred feet wide. We were almost two thousand feet direct!}' above it. WILDERNESS OF JUDEA. 465 Thus we began to ascend the hill, which is very steep. Al- though the road is quite wide enough for vehicles to pass over it, this could not be from the fact that the ascent of the hill at many places is in steps almost a foot in height. To our right all along the deep wady into which we look down, the mount- ain rises abruptly. The mountains are grayish in color, and a great number of caverns and tombs are cut in the solid rock. These come down close to the edge of the brook. Some priests ■were preparing a road from the main highway down a steep hill to the brook, so that the Russian pilgrims might go down and see the sacred place. The way through this “wilderness of Judea” would be ex- ceedingly diflicult and laborious were it not for the great improvement made in the road a few years ago by the contri- bution of a French lady for that purpose. She came out here on a vi.sit, and experiencing how difficult it was to go down from Jerusalem to Jericho, gave the handsome sum of twenty- five thousand dollars to the imj)rovemeiit of this road. At many places along the way are to be seen remains of the old Roman aqueduct and the Roman highway. The mountains about us are of a grayish stone, barren and dc'solate, and must always have been so. A more desolate and barren country could hardly be imagined than this “ Wilderness of Judea.” It was along this Avay that Christ located the occurrence which is mentioned in the parable of the “Good Samar- itan.” (Luke X. 30-37.) Remembering that this region has always been the fitting habitation of mountaineers and ma- rauders, and looking ujM'n these barren and desolate hills and deeply-cut wadies, it is no wonder that the Savior chose such a place for the location of an incident which shadows forth for the world a new social law. Whoever passes up this ■way over which “a certain man went down from Jeru- salem to Jericho,” will experience a sense of the probability that the narrative related by Jesus to the “lawyer” was even more than a “ parable.” Tradition has long since located this event at a desolate point about half way from Jericho to Jerusalem. What particular jjlace was in the mind of 30 466 THE HOLY LAHD. Christ, or where the events forming the basis of the parable occurred, no one can tell. The traditional site is on a kind of ridge somewhat elevated, between two valleys. Close to the road are the ruins of an old khan, and a perpendicular overhangiitg rock, beneath which is a shallow cavern, which is a resting-2>lace for travelers, even as the ‘‘ shadow of a great rock in a weary land.” Near the old khan are the ruins of two large cisterns, one of which has fallen entirely into decav. Far up on the mountain, north-east, are the ruins of a forti- lication, surrounded by a moat cut in the solid rock. It was once a defense of this jiass to the Jordan valley. After riding about fifteen miles through this rough and desolate region, over one hill after another, and winding down and up through one wady after another, we came into lands which are culti- vable. Here a few fleet-footed and beautifully formed gazelles .scamj)ered acwoss the fields which were becoming green with grain and grass, to the rocky hills beyond. Passing uj) the Wady el Hod, with steej) hills on eitlu'r side, we halted at a splendid fountain gushing up on the left of the road. For the last four hundred years it has been called the “ A po-^tle-s’ S{)ring,” from the sui>position that the apostles Avith their illustrious Lord often sto])2>ed hen' and drank from the jiearly fountain. This fountain is believed to be the “Avaters of En-shemesh,” marking the soutln rn Ixuindary of Benjamin. (.Joshua XV. 7). The road must haA’e ahvays been along this valley; and doubtless it Avas here that “Shimei AAent along on the hill’s side over against” David and cursed him as he fled from Jerusalem and his rebellious son. (IT. Samuel xvi. 13.) This stream is doubtless the “brook of water” over Avhich the woman told the servants of Absalom, Ahimaaz and Jonathan, had gone. (II. Samuel xvii. 20.) We Avere noAV only a feAv miles from the holy city. The “mount- ains Avhich are round about Jerusalem” lifted their forms before the eye. Just before us Avere the ridges and spurs of the eastern side of the mount of Olives. We turned aside to the spring, over which a comparatively modern work of masonry has been constructed consisting of a heavy Avail of STONE OF REST. 467 (Irossed stone with an arch over the fountain. Here we re- freshed ourselves at the “ Apostles’ Spring.” The water was refreshing and was received with grateful lips. As one exam- ines carefully the topography of the country and the way over the mount of Olives, he soon is assured beyond a doubt that he is here, indeed, not at the mouth of a well at which .lesus sat when it was “ deep ” and he had nothing with which to draw, but at a gurgling, pearly fountain beside which the Savior and his disciples must often have refreshed themselves as they went up to Jerusalem from Jericho. Near the fount- ain is an old khan where we halted for an hour for a little rest and to take lunch. The sun stood in full strength over the slopes of Olivet, and the hills about us seemed beautiful in their mellow majest)’, contrasted with the barren wilder- ness of mountains over wdiich we had passed trom .Jericho. A spirit of expectancy crept over my anxious heart. Mounting- our horses, we turned somewhat abruptly to tlie right and began to climb up the winding road on the eastern spur of the mount of Olives. Every step of the way was made tenfold more sacred bv the thouglit that we w(“rc on tin* same path up which the weary feet of .lesus ascemled again and again, and that we were to enter Bethany by the same- ]iath over which he pas.'^ed that last time l)efore he was crucified at Jeru.salem. After following the winding way up the steeps of Olivet for about a mile, we pausi'd for a little rest on a small plateau less than half a mile distant from Bethany, where our drago- man pointed out a stone about three feet long lying by the way and said, “ This is the stone of rest.” I knew the tradi- tion, but asked him to explain what he meant by the “ stone of I’est.” He looked at me with evident surprise and said, “ Here on this stone our Savior sat when Martha came out to meet him when Lazarus was dead.” Here, as often before, I felt mv senses indisposed to believe tradition respecting spe- cial localities. Possibly this was not the stone on which Jesus sat. It was indeed hardly probable. Still, it was with pecul- iar reverence that I alighted from the saddle and found my- self inclined to sit upon the same stone. Doubtless it was 4G8 THE HOLY LAXD. somewhere near this spot on this hill that Martha met Jesus as he was coming, with that pathetic appeal which must have penetrated the depths of his tender heart, “ Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.” (John xi. 20, 21.) I remembered that when she who loved to sit at the feet of Jesus “aro.se quickly, and came unto him,” that “Jesus was not yet come into the town, but was in that place where Martha met him.” So, as I rested a few moments, that tender scene of the meeting of Jesus and Martha and Mary crowded iq)on my imagination. Did you ever know a father who came home, after a long absence, to l>e met at the gate by a loving wife who broke to him the awful message that their darling child had died during his long ab.sence and that she had been compelled to bury it alone? Did you ever stand beside a dear friend in the house of the dead, while she met a brother who came home after many days’ travel only in time to look upon the pale dead face of a brother who had passed the mysterj" and pain of death ? "What a meeting of brother and sister's hearts as they stood in the chamber where their dead fellow lay humbled in death. Such scenes as these which I had too often witnessed came rushing to memory and intensi- fied the vivid concc-ption of that scene when these two sisters fell at the Savior’s feet here outside of Bethan\’ and poured out their grief. “ It is too lute, too late. Oh, why did you not come sooner. Lord, if thou hadst been here our brother had not died.” How deeply the scene interested me. I re- membered that in a far-off native land I had a dear brother laid in the grave. As I thought of him, his love, his hope, and then again of a darling little girl laid away to sleep in the grave, how my poor heart wanted to tell Jesus its bitter sorrow. What would he say ? Quickly I drew from my side the Holy Book, and turning to the eleventh chapter of John I read, “ Thy brother shall rise again.” Farther on I read, “ I am the resurrection and the life ; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” Forgetting the “ stone of rest,” I had found as never before a Rock upon which to BETHANY. 469 place my trembling feet, even iii the hours of sorrow and the waters of death. Lifting up my eyes there stood the village of Bethany, with the history of which there are connected so many tender memories of the life of our Lord Jesus. A score of rude Arab children swarmed around our com- pany before we got to the town, and they were determined to have barkshish. My dream of quiet meditation at the sacred places of the town, the very name of which is the synon^-m of tenderness and love and rest, was banished by these pests who pursued us. Bethany is not known in Old Testament history. Xow it is called by the natives El Azariyeh, — after the name Lazarus. From the time of Helena, the mother of Constantine, the sacred sites of Bethany were marked by buildings, the bare ruins of which now remain. It has now a small population of fanatical ^Moslem people who shelter in perhaps forty houses or huts. The huts have low stone walls and flat roofs, and present a rude a}>pearance. Bethany stands on a sj)ur of the mount of Olives, a mile east of the summit, south-east of the highest point on which the church and mosque stand. Through Bethau}' the natives followed us with a zeal which surely is to be commended. Here are pointed out the sites of the home of Lazarus and his two sisters, and the tomb of the dead brother whom Christ restored to life. Amid the abomi- nable annoyances we were compelled to suffer here these places were visited. The reputed tomb of Lazarus is reached by descending about twenty-five stone steps down a dark passage opening into a subterranean chapel, which is probably nearly fifteen feet below the level of the street. From this chapel I crept down over three great steps cut in the rock, each three or four feet deep, into a grotto cut deep into the solid rock. This grotto is not over six feet square. Here tradition asserts is the “cave” where they had “laid him” whom Jesus loved. There are, however, few writers who are inclined to regard this as the place where Lazarus was really buried. Modern trav- elers prefer to find the tomb in the south or south-east part 470 THE HOLY LAND. of the town in some of tlie places which they consider more suitable to the narrative. The more 1 investigated the claims of this site, and real objections to the plausibilit}' of the tra- dition, the more that single utterance of John, “It was a cave,’’ inclined me to believe this to be the veritable place. It is evident from this utterance of the evangelist that the ]»la(!C of the burial oI Lazarus was not an ordinary tomb cut in tlie rocks, but a deeper cave in the earth. As I now think of it, I can not divest my heart of the conviction tliat I was in the very same grave where Lazarus lay, and from which Jesus called him back from the dead. Less than fifty yards east is the traditional site of the house of this family of Bethany, which Jesus loved. (.John xi. 5.) Conjectures re- specting the location about which we must always be in some doubt need not be indulged. Sure it is that this is Bethany. It stood close to the borders of the wilderness of Judea, and probably was never much of a town. Yet it was here that Jesus, weary of the toils of the day, often came over Olivet from Jerusalem to find a place and hour of rest with tlie family he loved. It was here in the home of Mary and Martha and Lazarus that Jesus showed most of the human sympathy of his heart, and revealed to us how his lonely nature and life were affected by and drawn to the shelter of an earthly home, from which he borrowed a few restful hours. He had a nature deep and ])rofound, which was mightily touched by the tenderness of the child and the deep love of woman and the bleeding pangs of sorrow. It is here at Bethany that Jesus in frequent events of his life reveals the fathomless human side of his great soul. The events occurring at Bethany are familiar to every reader, and each recalls them for himself. Bethany and Olivet stand ever hathed in the holy tears of the Son of Cod. Twice we look upon a weeping Jesus. “Jesus wept” (John xi. 35) as he stood beside the tomb of Lazarus as he lay in the bonds of death, until the Jews exclaimed, “Behold how he loved him!” Go thence a little way westward to the top of Olivet and see the Savior on another day. As he stood there before Jerusa- CHRIST AT BKTHANY. 471 lem, “he beheld the city, and \ve])t over it." (Luke xi.x:. 41.) Here a whole life-time comment is put upon the character of Jesus, as we read it in two words, the Bible’s shortest verse, beside the tomb of the dead brother of Mary and Martha. Even the Jews were constrained to say, “Could not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died.” That voice of Jesus in its piercing tones which invaded the dark dominion of Death, “ Lazarus, come forth ! ” went ringing down to the gates of hell, and conies to us echoing over the mist-covered mountains of the ages, and will re-echo on through eternity ; for, “ he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave- clothes.” But the Master of Death said unto them, “ Loose him, and let him go.” Here, in these oumiiiotent displays of Jesus’ loving power over Death, lies the hope of our own sad hearts for the eternal years. Along the rude streets of this little town Mary and Martha walked with hearts lifted out of deepest sorrow in a joy which was like a dream, while they held fast to their brother, who had “been dead four days,” but was alive again, lest he should escape from their sight. It was here that the people of the village made Jesus his last reception-supper in the house of l^imon, at which iMary and Martha were jiresent, with their brother Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead, and whom the Jews sought to put to death b(‘cau.«e through him many of the jieople believed on the Lord. Yonder, along the slope or brow of the ridge lead- ing out from the mount of Olives, Jesus walked at the head of his disciples until just on the hill at the edge of Bethany, “he lifted up his hands and blessed them,” and was “parted from them,’’ being received into a bright cloud “and carried up into heaven.” (Luke xxiv. 50, 51.) Oh, marvelous ])ath of God where thv footstep' still in memory and love remain! From this hallowed spot the pathway of the shining heavens opened to the brighter chariot-cloud of glory which bore our ascend- ing Lord beyond the range of mortal sight where the eternal holds its sway. We reached the summit of the mount of Olives from Beth- 472 THE HOLY LAND. any by a road following around the brow of the hill, while directly to the left lay one of the deepest wadies seen in Pales- tine. We took the direct road toward Jerusalem with a view' of taking our first view of tlie holy city from the highest point of Olivet, where the view would be the most delightful. It was past two o'clock when we stood on the summit of Olivet and looked dowm its slopes over the trees of olive, carob, and walnut which make the mountain-side look like some old deserted and broken-dowm orchard, upon Gethsemane VIEW FROM OLIVET. 473 at the foot b}' the vale of the Kedron. Beyond the valley our eyes rested upon Mount Zion, the city of the great King. There is not in this wide world a scene upon which the pil- grim to the palace of God looks with such subdued reverence as upon that which lay before us. There before my eyes, a • mile away, lay Jerusalem, surrounded by its massive walls. True, tlie temple was not there, for its place isoceujned by the Mosque of Omar. The jialaees of the king have lieen de- stroyed and wasted. Still, there before us ivas the same valley of the Kedron, and beyond it rising to the walls of the city was Moriali, the slopes of whicli are whitened with Moliam- medan tombs. Beyond Moriah, covered with the memories of thousands of years, with the ascending smoke of .Jewisli sacrifice, rose Mount Zion, upon which David and Solomon once lived in their glory. True, this is not the Jerusalem of Solomon’s time, nor yet the Jerusalem upon which the eyes of the Savior rested when he stood on this same mountain ; but even now the view is the same, and the cit}’ of to-da}^ is not Avholly unlike the former .Jerusalem. The same “ mount- ains are round about .h ru-alem.” The eye is greeted by the same valleys, though less dcseji on either side, and by the same j)Ools and fountains, and rock-cut toomhs that were beheld by the Savior. I was not willing to allow my own raptured heart and mind to be drawn into controversy about the precise loca- tion of events or the possible changes in the locality of the walls of the city. I had come to Jerusalem not only that my eyes sliould “see the city of our God in the mountain of his holiness,” and behold Mount Zion, “beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth,” nor alone that my feet should “walk about Zion,” nor that I should “mark well her bulwarks and consider her palaces,” but I had come that my heart might be taught of God as I stood where he in olden times spoke face to face with man. I had come to Olivet that Jesus might lift up his hands above me and bless me, and that I might hear the Redeemer speak with a new tongue. Would he not make some deeper spiritual revelation of himself to my poor heart in the silence of its meditation ? Does he who yearned over 474 THE HOLY LAND. this city und who would have gathered the people even as a hen gathereth her brood under her wings, not love us still ? What scenes come to the mind as one stands on the summit of Olivet! Looking eastward, there is the “wilderness of Judea,” toward Jericho, the place whither our Lord was “led by the Spirit to be tempted by the devil.” Beyond it nestles the Dead Sea in its bed deep down in the Jordan valley. A little way along an eastern spur of the mountain is Bethany, surrounded by figs and olives, through which we have come, with all its hallowed memories of Lazarus, of careful and troubled Martha, and Mary, who sat at Jesus’ feet. From that little village the message was carried to the God-man, “ Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.” Turning the face southward, along the more southern brow of Olivet, the eye rests upon the road over whic I Jesus passed in his triumphant entrance to Jeru- salem, when the throngs cried, “ Hosanna to the Son of David : Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord ; Hosanna in the highest.” (Matthew xxi. 9.) Below the mountain, in the valley of the Kedron, lay the garden of Gethsemane, the scene of that awful night of our Lord’s bitter, bloody sorrow, and his midnight betrayal and arrest. Then, what memories of the “city of the great King!” Up tho.«e steeps and along those streets the “Man of sorrows” bore tlic burden of his toil and the weight of his heavy cross, while yonder, at the place called Calvary, “they crucified him, and the malefac- tors, one on tlie right hand, and the other on the left.” Yon- der out St. Stephen's Gate passed the risen Lord with his disciples, they following him again up this steep mount of Olives, passing, perchance, close where we are standing, until he had “led them out as far as to Bethany.” Down this same road which we chose, being the most direct to the city, “the disciples returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and were con- tinually in the temple praising and blessing God.” Amid memories such as these, and such others as I can not describe, more than an hour passed too quickly away as I sat on the summit of Olivet. Then we rode slowly and thoughtfully down the steep descenl, stopping now and again under the DAMASCUS GATE. 475 shade of an old olive-tree, and pasting by broken-down stone terraces, until we reached the edge of the narrow valley of the Kedron and entered the sacred seclusions of the garden of Gethseinane. When an hour had been passed in this sorrowful place, to which I shall ask the reader to return at another time, I climbed into the saddle, rode across tlie little valley, crossed the stone bridge, which with a single arch s])ans the Kedron, and slowly rode along beside the great grave-yard on the east of the city, then turned around the north-east corner of the city wall and rode westward to the Damascus gate. Here we pa.ssed the most elegant entrance to the city now in use, it being the great thoroughfare for the traveler going to or from Shechem and Damascus and all the northern country. 476 THE HOLY LAND. It is situated in a valley considerably lower than the grounds along the wall farther east and west. Our illustration gives a fine view of this splendid gate, with its pointed arch and mas- sive towers which stand one on each side for the protection of this entrance to the city. Here we entered the Holy City, and riding down the deep descent flr.st, then gradually ascending Damascus Street, alighted in front of the Damascus Hotel. We passed up a number of steps through a small door in the wall, and found ourselves in a stone-paved court, surrounded with heavy walls and narrow chambers. Ascending another flight of stejis we were in a large upper court, from which we had a splendid view of much of the city and of the mount of Olives, while about us wc-re pleasant rooms where our com- pany were domiciled greatly to their comfort compared with the tents from which we had parted at .Jericho. I was not a little disappointed in my first entrance to the city. The sight from the summit of the mount of Olives was the most de- lightful and enrapturing my eyes had ever beheld. The deep mellow shades of Gethsemane, with its walks and roses and olives and flowers of varied hues, had subdued my heart. The massive walls of the city, excelling all I had anywhere seen, had overawed me. But the narrow, unclean, crooked streets, with the little Arab shops beside them, and the poorly, curiously clad, dirty inhabitants somehow disgusted me. Still, this is what there is to-day of Jerusalem, and I was glad even to be di.spleased with the sorrowful, if I might be blessed by the memory of the illustrious and holy. CHAPTER- XX. The Holy Oity — Historyof Jerusalem — Origin of its Name — Location — Size — Population — Moriah — Zion — Valley of Kedron — Valley of Hinnom — Plan of Jerusalem — Tyropeon Valley — Stone City — A'^iew in Jerusalem — House-top — Present Condition of Jerusalem. GLUMES tvould not be sufficient to record the history of Jerusalem, nor many years long enough to explore all that its dust, and stones, and streets, and pools, ^ and mountains contain of the long and illustrious ages / j>ast. It is not within the purpose of this unpretending volume to try to explain its profounder secrets, but rather to “ walk round about Jerusalem,” and “tell the towers thereof” Yet it may be well to pause in our journey and scan a few pages on which are condensd a brief history of the struggles of the city of the great King. The early histor}^ of Jerusalem, as also the origin of the name, is in great obscurity. It is with plausibility supposed that this is the ancient Salem where Melchizedek, king and priest, resided in the time of .Abraham. (Genesis xiv. 18.) If this be true, which is probable, its name may have origi- nated by a combination of the name Salem with Jebusi, under which it was known more than four hundred years after the days of Abraham. (.Joshua xviii. 28.) The combination Je- bus and Salem would readily be made by the euphonious change of “6” to “r.” In the early possess?ion of the land, the tribe of Judah dwelt at Jerusalem with the Jebusites. (Joshua XV. 63.) One fifth of the reign of David had passed at Hebron, when he captured the “stronghold of Zion,” nearly ten hundred 477 478 THE HOLY LAND. and fifty years before Christ, and built on it the fort, and called it the “ City of David.” (II. Samuel v. 9.) The city was then confined alone to Mount Zion. Solomon built the temple, across the valley of the Cheese-mongers, upon “ Mount Moriah, where the Lord appeared unto David his father, in the place that David had jirepared in the thrashing-floor of Oman, the Jebusite.”. (II. Chronicles iii. 1.) This mountain is about one hundred feet lower than Mount Zion. The plateau con.structed by Solomon for the temple remains to this day, and we shall be greatly interested in visiting it. He also built “ the walls of Jerusalem round about.” (I. Kings iii. 1.) The names “Zion,” and “City of David,” are sometimes in the Old Testament applied to the entire city of Jerusalem. The location of tlie city has varied somewhat since the days of Solomon, and even since the days of Christ. We found traces of the city wall far south of the present wall at the southern end of Ophal. The ancient city included the hill .south of the j)resent walls, and also westward toward the pools of Gihon down the slopes of the hill. If Jerusalem rose in grandeur under the dominion of Solomon so as to become the admiration of the queen of Sheha, it soon was viewed by neighboring kingdoms with a jealous eye. The son of Solo- mon, in whose reign the kingdom was divided, was yet reign- ing over Judah, when Shishak, king of Egypt, partially robbed the city and temple of their glory. Another century had not passed when, in the reign of Jehoram, the Phil- istines and Arabian tribes again jdundered the holy tem- ple. Xor little more than half a century passed again when Jehoash, king of Israel, fought against Amaziah and broke down the city wall, jdundered the temple which Jehoash of Judah had repaired, and robbed the palace, and carried ofl' the .spoils of gold. The succeeding King Uzziah reigned over half a century and restored the glory of the Holy City, and strengthened its towers of defense. Ilezekiah, like a wise and good king, arranged the great system of water-sup- ply for the city by constructing ])ools and connecting aque- ducts, while his idolatrous son Manasseh enlarged the city by and set up an idol in tiie Temple of the Lord. (II. Chroni- cles xxxiii. 6, 7.) A little more than half a century later when the good king .losiah was dead, under the reign of -le- hoiachin and that of Zedekiah, who “ did evil in the sight of the Lord,” 'X(!buclindnezzar, king of Babylon, took “all the HISTORY OF JERUSALEM. 479 extending the walls southward and westward so as to include the southern projection of Zion. This follow('d his imprison- ment and humiliation in Babylon, and was something of a reparation for the shameful idolatry in which he caused his children to pass througli the lire in the valley of Ilinnom, POOL OF SILOAM, LOOKTN’O TOWARD JERTJS.ALEM. 480 THE HOLY LAND. treasures of the house of the Lord ” and carried them to his own proud city. This was soon followed by the further sad destruction of the house of God by fire, and the slaying of tlie inhabitants of Jerusalem. Half a hundred years later Nehe- miah superintended the rebuilding of the temple and the wasted walls of the city amid the mournful memories of the past. The history of the Holy City was a varied one for the fol- lowing six hundred years. As the time for the fulfillment of prophecy in the appearance of the Messiah began to dawn, the Maccabean dominion, which had followed the Alexandrian or Macedonian, yielded to the conquests of Pompey, sixty- three years before Christ’s birth. A quarter of a century later, Herod, assisted by the Romans, became the possessor of the land and king over Jerusalem. He rebuilt the temple in great splendor, and fortified the city with numerous towers. During this period of external beauty and glory, Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, the antitype of all the sacrifices of Moriah, api)eared in the world, and walked the streets of the Holy City oftentimes, — to be disowned in the temple, which he honored with his divine jn'esence, — God in the veil of flesh ! — and to be crucified without the camj'), that he might sanctify the people with his own blood. Jerusalem as a Jewish city soon passes out of sight; for with the end of the long, bloody siege, in which Josephus asserts over a million of souls perished, the most terrible siege of historjq if that author is to be credited, Titus, the son of Vespasian, in August, A. D. 70, burned the city and the temple of Herod, and laid the city in ruins, where it slept in ashes, uninhabited, for over half a century. Hadrian, the Roman emperor, about A. D. 132, did something to the re- building of the city, and, it is claimed, erected a temple to Jupiter on the site of the Jewish temple. For almost three centuries the history of Jerusalem is in total obscurity. It probably became a Christian city in a large measure, as Euse- bius gives us the names of a long list of bishops who presided there. The mother of Constantine, Empress Helena, visited LOCATION OF JERUSALEM. 481 Jerusalem in A. D. 326, and took a deep and pious interest in the sacred places of the city and other parts of the Holy Land. Constantine followed her example. Nearly a half century after the visit of Helena to Jerusalem, Julian the apostate gave the Jews permission and aid looking toward the rebuilding of the temple. This was iirevented by the bursting forth of balls and flames of fire from the ruins of the temple, by which the workmen were burned and affrighted and led to abandon the undertaking. (Neander's Church History, Vol. II., page 50; Gibbon’s Fall of the Roman Empire, chapter xxiii.) In the early part of the sixth century Justinian, the Greek, honored the city of Jerusalem, as well as other portions of Palestine, with structures of strength upon sacred places. A number of monasteries about Jerusalem and a church in honor of the mother of our Lord were erected by him. The Persians, in A. D. GI4, took Jerusalem and destroyed much of the city. It was again restored for a few years. But in A. D. 637 the Arabian army, commanded by Omar, took possession of Jerusalem, defeating the Greeks, who, it is said, numbered twelve thousand soldiers. About A. D. 960, the Eg3’ptians took pos.session of the citj" ; and in X. I). 1099 the Crusaders attacked and captured it, slaying most of the Mohammedans and Jews. The citj' continued in the possession of the Cru- saders for nearly ninety years, and up to the defeat of the Franks by Saladin, on the hills west of the Sea of Galilee. (See page 371.) Saladin took possession of Jerusalem A. D. 1187, since which time, with varying events, it has continued a Mohammedan citjn^ The Jerusalem of to-day occupies nearly the same location held by the city in the times of Solomon and Christ. It is a city of hills or mountains. The whole country from the plains of the Jordan in the east and the plains of Sharon on the coast of the sea is a vast range of hills and mountain.s, broken and severed by deep-cut wadies, which, running down into one another, course awa^"^ to the plains east or west. In the midst of these mountains which are “round about Jerusalem,” furnishing its defense, stands the H0I3* City between two deep 31 482 THE HOLY LAND. valleys, the Kedron on the east and the valley of Hinnom on the west. These valleys lie more than a mile distant from each other, and between them rise the mountains Moriah and Zion, divided by the Tyropeon valley. The two valleys Kedron and Hinnom unite almost half a mile below the ju’esent southern walls of the city, and form the deep gorge called the valley of Jehoshaphat, which winds its way througli the hills of .Judea to the Dead Sea. These valleys north of Jerusalem have their start in gentle depressions within a few rods of each other, at a height of two thou.sand six hundred and fifty feet above the level of the Mediterranean Sea. Diverging from each other, they encircle the ])lateau on which the city stands, and then rapidly sink into the earth, until at their meeting below the “Well of Job” they have sunk six hundred and seventy-two feet below their origin. The Tyropeon valley, called also the valley of the Cheese-mongers, divides tins plateau into two sections, leaving Moriah on the east and Zion on the west. It Avas never as deep as the other valley, and disappears in the valley of the Kedron at the pool of Siloam. The elevation of Jerusalem is two thousand, live hundred and seventy-two leet above the Mediterranean Sea. It is sixteen miles from the Dead Sea and thirty-six from Jo])pa. The city, as shotvn in our vicAV from the mount of Olives, is surrounded by a massive stone wall, somcnvhat resembling a square, about two and a half miles in entire circumference, or a little more than half a mile long on either side. The east wall along Mount IMoriah is more nearly straight, while the north Avail is the longest ot any side of the city. It is a city of stone, built on mountains of strength and fortifi(“d by the eternal hills. If the reader Avill carefully study the “ plan of Jerusalem” as presented on page 488. and refer to it freriuently until familiar Avith its scope and details, he Avill have secured a correct view of the city and be Avell prepared to journey Avith the writer to the places of greatest interest. By this it will be seen that the city is built upon five hills. Ophel, noAV south of the east part of the city, Avas embraced in the ancient Avails. North of it is Moriah, and north of Moriah is Bazetha, occupied by the » PLAN OF JERUSALEM. 483 Mohammedan quarters. West of Moriah, across the Tyro- peon valley, is Zion, higher than its eastern neighbor, and north of Zion is Acra, occupied by the Christian quarters. 1. Armenian quarter. 2. Christian quarter. 3. Mohammedan quarter. 4. Jewish quarter. 6. Upper Gihon. 6. Lower Gihon. 7. Pool of Hezekiah. 8. Zion Gate. 9. Bethesda. 10. Dome of the Rock. 11. Golden Gate. 12. Tower of Antonia. 13. Church of Pater Noster. 14. Absalom’.s Tomb. 15. Aceldama. 484 THE HOLY LAND. Jerusalem, Shechem, and Damascus are the cities of Pales- tine and Syria, upon which the traveler looks with wonder. And they are as unlike in their character and surroundings as can be well imagined. Shechem is guarded by a mountain on either side towering from the narrow valley to a great height, while the plain is full of springs and fruitful gardens. Damascus is a dirt-city, built largely of sun-dried mud brick, and is sunk in the midst of fertile plains stretching away for many miles, while its people are purely oriental in all their habits, dress, and life. Jerusalem lies between two valleys, on the plateau ridging up into two hills or mountain ranges, while on the east of the valley rises the mount of Olives, and on the west the hills of Judea. It is a stone city. Its walls, streets, and houses, even the very floors of the houses, are of stone, and this in the second as well as lower stories. Its pop- ulation is made up of all nations under the sun, while Chris- tianity, Judaism, and Mohammedanism all claim it as a great center of religious power. Each have their sacred places, reverenced with a sacred ness which exceeds our utmost con- ception of possible superstition. Jerusalem is a small city, and yet within the walls, which are less than two-and three fourtlr miles around them entire, is found a population of not less than twenty thousand people, though at least thirteen acres of this spot is taken up by the temple plateau upon which stands the Mosque of Omar. There are only a few streets wortliy of the name, and the houses are so closely huilded together that it would be almost impossible to drive a cart through the streets of the city. In many parts of the city the buildings are so crowded together that one could pass from one house to another on the house- top. And such it has been from all time. It was to this fact that Christ alluded when in speaking of the time of the destruction of the city of Jerusalem he said, “ Let him which is on the house-top not come down.” (Matthew xxiv. 17.) He meant that they should flee for their lives, making their escape over the tops of their houses. This could be done more rapidly and successfully than through the crowded streets. VIEW IN JERUSALEM. Tower of David. 486 TEE HOLY LAND. The most delightful view to he had of the Holy City is from the mount of Olives, and we were exceedingly fortunate in having enjoyed so grand a view for tlie first time. Within there is nothing beautiful in this city. As one treads along the streets of .Jerusalem, he is assured that wonderful changes have been wrought in its history. The Jerusalem of Christ’s day is buried beneath the stones and dust and dwellings and streets on which we now tread. Beneath that is tlie city of Xehemiah’s day, while still below that lie the ruins of the city of Solomon, who once reigned here in wonderful glorv. The rebuilders of the city each time alter its destruction have founded their city upon the debris of the former city. Thus through ages following ages the city has in many of its parts been filled up until we walk thirty, forty, and at ])laces fifty feet above the Jerusalem that was in the days of Solomon, and more than thirty feet above the city of Herod. Go where you will along the crowded streets, still every step reminds 3’ou of the memories and deeds of this most sacred of all jdaces on the earth. With all this, Jerusalem of to-day is per- haps the dirtiest city of its size on the globe. ..lany of the streets are so polluted that it is offensive to walk in them ; and the odor rising from the abundant filth almost sickens one. i\Ien gayly dressed saunter lazily along the renowned streets, while poorly-clad women and miserable-looking chil- dren sit in the narrow ways with marketing to sell, or to beg alms of the passer-by. Slowly pressing through this throng, intermingled with multitudes of dogs, the camels, heavily loaded, and led by barefooted Arabs, and the donkeys driven by the donkey-boys, make up a scene which the traveler from afar scarcely expected to behold in the Holy City. ISjSDith EN VI HO NS GibecCh-i , 'TuLnii cj^'dL '.neit^n.ip.1 i f \ > S i^L ■isav'-tyeru ■ • I = Scopus iSytr shtoaii. iifta choTr^Tuts Conyent of thf Cross ^ 3eir el-l£ar SuUahfh, -Atikoh Deir Shsikh, Sah w tp. ^*\ ,A}fnQia^\ pi’s Touib li .RAhil -r-x The Am^ric^an Su/ida^ S(Ju>ol TTrduon . ThJU.fuLelphia . 11 ( Coprjrighx. 2860. ! CHAPTER XXI. Walk about Jerusalem — Mount of Olives — Place of Christ’s Ascension- Olives — Oil-Mill — Taxation of the Lands — Via Dolorosa — Brook Kedron — Valley of Kedron — Grotto of Jeremiah — Tomb of Mary — Gethsemane — Olive-Tree inGethsemane — Jewish Tombs — Tomb of Absalom — Other Tombs — Hill of Offense — Virgin’s Fountain — Pool of Siloam — En-rogel. ;EFORE continuing our journey through the Holy 11^ City, it may be well to “ walk about Zion ” and get a better view of the entire surroundings of the city where we are to spend a number of days, and where our hearts are to be often touclied with the tenderest emotions. Where would the reader desire to pay the first visit? There is no spot on earth more tender than Gethsemane, just down across the valley of the Kedron on the loAver slopes of the mount of Olives. True, we passed by the garden of sorrows on our entrance to the city ; but we must make another visit and examine the garden more closely, and commune with its memories more fully. Coming out of the door of my room to the upper court of the hotel, ready for the journey, there in full view before the eye stands the long mellow range of the mount of Olives, with its winding way over which the Savior passed when he led his disciples out as far as Bethany. The summit of Olivet is crowned with the remains of the Church of the Ascension, and a IMohammedan mosque, with a tall minaret. The olive-trees here and there seek to shelter the bare earth and white limestone steeps. At the base of the mountain, in full view, is the beautiful Garden of Gethsemane, where our Lord wept on that night of agony. Three roads ascend the mountain. Beyond the summit of 487 488 THE HOLY LAND. Olivet and the Hill of Offense are the blue mountains of Moab, ■which tower up about Xebo, beyond the Dead Sea. Closer to the view within the city walls are the fiat roofs of the houses, on which women are at work and children are play- ing. One lone, solitary palm-tree rises above the houses to greet the eye. And there on Mount Moriah stands the Mosque of Omar, where once ^stood the Temple, and from which as- cended the smoking incense and perfume from the hallowed altars of God. Our illustration presents a beautiful view of the mount of Olives, with the inclosed Garden of Gethsemane just at its base. The summit of the mountain is two thousand, seven hundred and twenty-three feet above sea-level, and about two hundred feet higher than the temple area— the distance from the one to the other by a straight line being about half a mile. Looking at the illustration, which clearly shows the steep slopes of this sacred mountain, you are facing directly east- ward. The mount of Olives is over a mile long, breaking down about one hundred feet at the north end to a spur con- necting with Scopus, and at the south connecting with a ridge to the Hill of Ofiense. The top of the mountain is reached by three roads, diverging just at the Garden of Gethsemane. They are shown in our illustration. On the summit of tlie mountain, Constantine erected a Christian church upon what he supposed to l)e the ]>lace of the ascension of our Lord. Various buildings have crowned the spot; and a Mohamme- dan mosque, constructed of the former buildings, now is vis- ited by great numbers of j^ilgrims, eager to see the fabulous prints of the feet of Christ which are there shown. No intel- ligent person believes that his feet made any prints in the rocks. Luke tells us that Jesus led his disciples out “as far as to Bethany,” which is some distance from here, and really not in sight. The view of the city from the mountain is the best to be obtained. Just back of the Mohammedan mosque, on the east side of the mountain, is a little village of a dozen stone houses, called the “village of the mount of Olives,” its Arab inhabitants being a pest, if not a terror, to persons who would visit these places, or ]>ass to Bethany. Tomb of Mary. MOUNT OF OLIVES. Garden of Oothsemanc inoioaod. 490 THE HOLY LAND. In the Kedron Valley and over the slopes of Olivet grow great numbers of the olive-tree. It is indeed the most abun- dant growth of all Palestine. The wood is a pretty dark color, and with oil and friction is polished to great beauty. It is used for manufacturing na})kin - rings, rules, j>aper- knives, toilet - boxes, and various trinkets, whicli are sold in great abundance in Jerusalem and taken to all j)arts of the world. There are large stores and shops in Jerusalem for their manu- facture and sale. The tree is of slow growth, and does not yield fruit until it is nearly a dozen years old, and then bears every other year. In size it somewhat resembles an apple-tree, though the trunk in great age becomes much larger. The top somewhat resembles a damson-tree, though the dark-green leaf is longer and not half ‘as broad. The olive is a beautiful tree. It yiehls a berry lialf the size of a large damson, and much the same shape, which when ripe is shaken from the tree, gathered to the oil-press, and ground or mashed by a large stone, like a grindstone in shajie, rolled around over the l^erries, which are placed in a large stone basin, seven or oil-mill. eight feet in diameter. The mashed berries are then removed to a lever 2)ress and the juice or oil pressed out of them. The oil thus secured is tlie great product of Pale.stine. It is used for lam])s, and for all culinary purposes, where we would use lard, and also in the place of vinegar. It has a flat, unpleas- ant taste ; and at first I found it very disagreeable, but soon became accustomed to it, so as to really relish food prepared in the olive-oil. It is also extensively used in the manu- facture of soap, and is shipped to all parts of the wmrld. The production of the olive-oil could readily be increased to a yet much greater proportion. It is estimated that one half of the quantity produced is consumed in the manufacture of soap and one fourth in family use, and yet not less than TAXATION OF THE LANDS. 491 twenty tons are aniuuill}' exported. It may be said as of old, This is a “good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills; a land of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig-trees, and pomegranates; a land of oil olive, and honey.” (Deuteronomy viii. 7, 8.) No doubt the olive-tree, which grows alike in the valleys and on the hills, through the long, dry summer, would be cultivated to a much greater extent were it not for the burdensome tax * placed upon it. The Turkish government taxes a tree from the time it is planted; and as it requires ten or twelve years to come to fruit-bearing, the poor people are not able to pay the tax, and hence allow their lands to lie bare. The Turkish government in this and every other respect, either from abom- inable ignorance as to the policy of government, or from down- right meanness and a desire to keep the people in poverty, peal and rob the people from the very root of every industry. This instance is a fair example of many others. America would encourage industry and the improvement and increase of the products of the country. Turkey taxes not only the fruits of the land, but the very effort to produce fruits. The abundant fruitfulness and rich green of the olive-tree make it a restful and beautiful object to look upon in all the land. David said he was “Like a green olive-tree in the house of God.” (Psalms lii. 8.) The olive lives to great age, and it is stated by Conder that at Gaza, the natives assert, not a single olive-tree has been planted since tht' possession of the land by the Turks. Their tradition points to trees which existed in the time of Alexander the Great. Conder is inclined to believe that the tradition which says no trees have been planted at Gaza since the INIoslom conquest, may be tru Yet they are there in great abundance. I saw no dead olive- trees in all the land, nor any signs of dying in any of all the thousands of trees seen in all parts of the country. They seem never to die. From the old trunk, brancl)''s shoot up and form a new family or group of trees. It is to this feature of the olive that the psaln.ist alludes in the “ Song of degrees,” when he enumerates the blessings upon the people of the Lord 492 THE HOLY LAND. and among them, “Thy children like olive-plants round about thy table.” (Psalms cxxviii. 3.) The shade of the olive is most delightful, and we were often pleased to find our camp pitched under some grand old olive-trees. The natives do not regard the shade of the fig-tree as healthful. They think it produces ophthalmy. The olive is a favorite shade for all. But we have tarried viewing the mount of Olives too long; let us now continue our journey to Gethsemane. Passing southward along Damascus Street we come to a crossing * in which Ave turn a square angle and go eastward down the street. We are now in the Via Dolorosa, the Avay of the cross, and folloAV this narrow way dqwn and across a loAver valley in the city, and then ascend the street for some distance ; then turn to tlie left for a fcAv paces, and Avith two otlier turns fol- low the street leading us out of St. Stephen’s Gate. A number of Turkisli soldiers are lazily guarding about the gate ; hut there are no hinderances to our passing out of the city at pleasure. Being outside the city, the mount of Olives is full in view; hut the attention is directed to the steep descent Avhich must be made into the A'alley of the Kedron. The summit of Moriah, outside the city Avails, far toAvard the south-eastern corner of the city, is covered Avith Mohammedan tombs. They are Avhitewashed, and such as Ave have seen in many other places. A steep path leads directly down the hill to the val- ley; but a road hearing to the north, half Avay down the hill, and then soutliAvard, making tAvo turns, leads over a stone bridge of a single arch to the east side of the brook Kedron. The valley of the Kedron, AA'hich Avinds doAvn on the east of the city elevation, from the region north of the city to the junction with the Valley of Hinnom south of Jerusalem, entirely separates the hills or mountains upon Avhich the city stands from the range of the mount of OUa'cs east and north- east and the Hill of Offense south-east. The bottom of this someAvhat Avinding A^alley is only a few hundred yards from the east Avail of the city; and the descent from St. Stephen’s Gate is so steep that the road is made to take two turns, so as to descend the hill more easily. This valley is sometimes TOMB OF MARY. 493 known as the Valley of Ivedron and sometimes as the Valley of Jehoshaphat. There is no doubt but that at many places it has been filled up greatly by debris thrown out of the city and by washings from the hills. So much is this the case that the brook Kcdron, which during the wet season flows down its stony channel, becomes entirely dry during the summer- season. While the writer was in Jerusalem the Kedron was entirely dry. Captain Warren in his exjJorations and exca- vations here in the bed of the valley dug down forty feet, where he found a la}'er of pebl)les and stones, worn smooth, indicating that the bed of tlie brook has been filled up from that de])th. Farther .south, and closer to tlie Temple wall, he found the rocks to lie no less than eighty feet below the pres- ent surface of the earth. Thus the original valley was at this point eighty feet lower than it appears at pre.sent. No doubt the bed of the Kedron was formerly also much nearer the wall of the city than now, cutting close under the steep slopes of Mount Moriah. The Kedron valley north-east of the city is a broad, beautiful valley of cultivable land and olive-or- chards. It gradually narrows down, until at the nortli-east of the city it is only a few rods wide, and its sides are steep. The valley about the Garden of Gethsemane is not less than forty or fifty yards wide. Farther southward it becomes much narrower. A few paces from the bridge over the Kedron is the tra- ditional tomb of the Virgin Mary. Several flights of steps lead down to a stone chapel cut in the sol;d rock. Here it is asserted Joachin and Anna, the reputed parents of Mary, v/'ere buried. This chapel, the floor of which is about thirty- five feet below the surface of the earth and eighteen feet wide and ninety feet long, is lighted with silver lamps. Here is a well of cool water. But you are more surprised at being shown the sarcophagus which it is asserted contains the dust of the mother of Christ. When she died, or where she was buried, no one can tell. Farther up the valley and on the east of the bed of the val- ley is the grotto of Jeremiah, where he is said to have dwelt 494 THE HOLY LAND, ill sorrow for a season, and where he wrote his Lamentations. It is a cave in the rock, now used as a mosque. From the crossing of the bridge, a few paces brings us to the Garden of (iethsemane, where Jesus on the dark night of his betrayal into the hands of sinners wrestled alone in prayer until “ his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” (Luke xxii. 44.) Gethsemane is on the base of Mount Olivet, just as it rises out of the Valley of Kedron. It is surrounded by a heavy stone wall, and divided into several compartments by a pretty picket-fence. Eight old olive-trees grow here which tradition says are the same as stood here in the time of the sorrow, of •Jesus. The Bible narrative says nothing of olive-trees being here. However, from the very name Gethsemane, which sig- nifies- “ oil-pre.‘JS,” ic is altogether 2>rohable that Gethsemane was then as now an olive-orchard. These trees are doubtless of great age. The olive is of slow growth and long life, and these may indeed be shoots from the trees which concealed the sorrowing Son of God in that awful night of agony, while the hills about the city were cnnvded with those who had come to the passover. The old trees have burst open at the trunks jierhaps centuries ago, and tlius show great age. Some of them are as much as nineteen or twenty feet in circumference. There is a well of good water in the garden, and the entire inclosure is jJanted with younger olives and all kinds of beautiful flowers. The garden has the shape of an irregular quadrangle, and has a passage all around it just inside the wall shut off by the ])icket-fence. In the walls here and there, and at the corners, are small oratories with images in them re|)resenting various scenes connected with Christ's associa- tion with the garden. It is perhaps eighty yards around the entire inclosure. We knocked at the gate on the east side of the garden, and a Franciscan monk received us courteously indeed ; and we w’ere permitted to walk in every part of Gethsemane. He also allowed us to pluck with our own hands such flowers as we desired to bring away as mementos of this sacred jdace. 496 THE HOLY LAHD. Close to the entrance is a stone which marks the traditional j)lace where the three disciples slept while Jesus wrestled in prayer. Outside of the wall of the garden is a piece of broken column which marks the spot where Judas betrayed the Son of God with a kiss. Visitors who enter Gethsemane are expected to give at least a franc to the monk for the care of the garden. This custom we cheerfully complied with. Considerable changes have occurred in the level of the earth here, this valley having been filled up by debris and washing from the mount of Olives. Then we know that in former time the Garden of Gethsemane embraced a larger space of land, extending farther northward. This may not be the precise spot where our Lord struggled with the powers of darkness, “and being in an agony he prayed more earnestly.” Still, this is Gethsemane. Do I indeed stand in this garden of unutterable sorrow of my Lord ! The shadow’s of the mystic and the eternal steal over my heart. I am melted dowm wdth the presence of the Lord and transformed and transported by the fellowship of Jesus. It was here that “ he came out, as he was w’ont, to the mount of Olives,” unto a place called Geth- semane ; and though he had just comforted his disciples with that deep, loving, wonderful, consolitory discourse, beginning, “ Let not your heart be troubled,” and followed it w’ith that prayer of all prayers, yet here he “ began to be sore amazed, and to be verj’ heavy.” Here there is an appeal to the heart which no picture and no w’ords can produce or even represent. I never felt the overpow’ering agony of Jesus in its impres- sions upon my ow’n heart as when standing speechless near the spot of that awful night-anguish of soul. Looking up to Moriah, there is the spot w’here stood the great Temple of Herod, under whose full moon-light shadows Jesus passed in coming from Mount Zion, where he had been wdth his disci- ples during the night. Out of that gate, from w’hich a thou- sand years before David had fled barefooted from Absalom, Jesus was followed by his disciples. Dowm the steep of Moriah he passed, winding his way through the tents which covered the lower slopes of the hill. Into the deep shadow's of these TOMB OF ABSALOM. 497 old olive-trees, or their predecessors, he led Peter, James, and John, saying to them, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death.” Hex’e, where the Lord often resorted beyond the Kedron to pray alone, he wrestled with the powers of dark- ness through lone liours, struggling and passing to and fro betw’een the place of pra^'er, where he bowed in unbearable grief, and the spot where bis three disciples, Peter, James, and John, had fallen asleep. The.se hills around wei'o possibly covered with tents ; and all around the sheltering walls of the city the festive pilgrims to the feast of the passover la)' in restful slumber wlien Jesus came down from the City of David, passed under the soft shadows of the Temple, then out the eastern gate of the city and down the winding road, over the slopes of Moriah across the Kedron, into the olive-seclu- sions of this place of sorrow. For a long time I wandered through this solemn and yet lovely place. My heart was too full to speak many words. Quickly came unnumbered thoughts, tender, solemn, and holy. If we have been long enough in Gethsemane, we may con- tinue our walk down the Kedron Valley. You will not care to 1 ' more than reminded that the Greek Church, moved with jealousy and rivalry, has recently fixed upon a spot as their Geth.semane, a little more than a hundred yards north-east of this place, and have inclosed a small parcel of ground in a stone wall. Below the road which ascends the mount of Ol- ives, just south of Gethsemane, the lower part of the Hill of Oflense is thickly crowded with Jewish graves. Only a little way below the road, and a little distance east of the bed of the Kedron, is the Tomb of Absalom, where it is believed were deposited the remains of the handsome, proud, rebellious, and wdcked .son >f David. Close by where the tomb stands, and pc'-sibly ( ver these very rocks, David fled when driven from Mount Zion by the terrible rebellion of this wicked son. A thousand years afterward Jesuis, in sight of this same tomb, bore a deeper sorrow than that )f David, when he wept and prayed in the garden. This tomb is a cube, about eighteen or twenty feet in size, and perhaps to the square twenty 32 498 THE HOLY LAND. feet in height. It is cut out of the native solid rock, and stands separated from the rock on three sides by a passage about ten feet wide at the side and eight feet at tlie back. The top is mounted with a kind of sjjire, which looks like an inverted funnel. It contains witliin a chamber about eight feet square with niches on the side for the reception of the bodies of the dead. The original door is closed witli rubbish and stone, but an opening higlier up enables one to creep in and climb down to the chamber. The tomb is almost filled with stones which have been thrown into it througli the open- ings on the sides. How far it extends below the stone and earth about it I do not know. The (juaint monument is forty-seven feet high above the eartli. This jiillar has been identified Avith the place mentioned in II. Samuel xviii. 18, “Now Absalom in his life-time had taken and reared up for himself a pillar, Avhich is in the king's dale.” The cornice a:id other features of the monumental tomb seem to be against the theory of so great antiquity since it is only known in history from about the fourth century of the Christian era. But these may have been added to it, or may indeed be more ancient than Ave Avould alloAv. The peculiar structure impressed me as fitting Avell to the “pillar” raised by Absa- lom. I climbed up to the little entrance and through the small chamber Avithin this monument of the long-ago Avicked and ungrateful child. It is the custom to this day for all passers-by to throw a stone at this tomb; and Avhile the writer was climbing through it and examining its structure, design, and Avorkmanship, he Avas frightened for a moment by the sharp reports of stones striking the rock. The momentary apjArehension that the stones Avcre cast at him Avere soon al- layed at the remembrance of tliis custom of contempt for the place. Some passers-by were stoning the memory and tomb of the wicked son of DaAud. A fcAV paces southward are three other remarkable tombs, with a number of departments or niches for the dead. They are of great antiquity. The one is called the Tomb of Jehoshaphat, the second the Grotto of St. James, and the other the Tomb of llezekiah. The tAvo former VIRGIN’S FOUNTAIN. 499 are excavations in the rock, while the latter, about eighteen feet square and twenty-nine feet high, is constructed much liko the Tomb of Absalom, but is mounted with a pyramid all of solid rock. These tombs lie directly opposite the south- east corner of the temple jdateau across the Kedron, and in the rock of the Hill of Offense. Indeed, the rocks and hills about .Jerusalem are literally honey-combed with dismal chambers, where, no douV)t, in the long-ago ages, ])rophets, kings, priests, and noblemen, illustri- ous in tbeir times, were laid away to rest in the last long sleep of death. Now these tombs are em])ty, except such as are used by poor people as places of residence. The miserable little village Siloah, farther down the valley, is almost one half of it in the caverns thus cut in the Hill of Offense, on the top of which it is said Solomon had erected dwellings for his pagan women. Solomon built “a high place for Chemosh, the abomination of Moab, in the hill that is before Jerusalem, and for Molech.” ( T. Kings xi. 7.) Whether this is the hill I can not tell. The hill is a lower continuation of the mount of Olives. Between the little Arab town Siloah and the Hill Ophel, once embraced in the city walls, is the Virgin’s Fountain, which we reached by descending two flights of broad stone steps. This fountain, down in a dark cavern, furnishes a large quantity of water, which is carried away by the women in their queer-shaped jars and in goat-skins. Here, too, they come to Avash in the stream flowing from it. The spring is intermittent, which no doubt is caused by a siphon formation somewhere above in the rocks through Avhich it flows. Thus the spring flows freely for a few hours, and then ceases en- tirely. This flowing and ceasing to flow occurs a number of times each day, and is more or less frequent as the volume of water is greater or less in quantity. In winter there are from three to five flows per diem ; in summer only two. If the season is exceedingly dry, the flow occurs only once in two or three days. This fact has been suggested as answering to the miraculous troubling of tbe px)l “by the sheep-market,” of 500 THE HOLY LAND. which we have an account in John’s gospel, fifth chapter. The water from this fountain, carried by a channel a quarter of a mile long under the hill, supplies the Pool of Siloam, which formerly was included in the city walls. This channel is about two feet wide and varies in height from t w o to sixteen feet. Captain Warren in his explorations dis- covered a shaft leading from the channel to the Hill Oi)hel, where a basin was hollowed out for it. This basin had a connecting shaft up to a corridor exca- vated in the rock where a flight of steps led to the surface of the earth in the ancient city. This arrangement Avas doubtless to enable the inhabitants to cut off uaedeiss eoirrH-EASTWAim. the flow to the Pool of Siloam in case of war, and have the Avater brought directly within the reach of the city. Curi- ously constructed glass lamps Avere found in the corridor, and other lamps Avith red pottery Avere found. The Virgin’s Fountain is so called from a tradition that Mary here washed her clothes and those of the infant Christ. The Pool of Siloam, situated at the foot of Ophel, and where the Tyropeon valley enters the Valley of Jehoshaphat, is fifty feet long and about eighteen feet wide and twenty feet deep. All agree that this is the pool of New Testament his- tory, “ Siloam.’’ The construction of the pool and the water- channel aboA^e mentioned is of great antiquity. Isaiah speaks of the “waters of Siloah, that go softly.” (Isaiah viii. 6.) He doubtlessly refers to this secret, silent, unseen passage from POOL OF SILOAM. 501 the Virgin’s Fountain to Siloam. Neliemiah tells us that Shallun built the “ wall of the pool of Siloah by the king’s garden, and unto the stairs that go down from the city of David.” (Nehemiah iii. 15.) Almost five hundred years later, Jesus of Nazareth pas.sing by saw a poor blind man upon whose eyes he put clay, made of earth and spittle, and said to him, “ Go wash in the Tool of yiloam.” (John ix. 7.) To this same pool the jioor fellow came staggering and blind, and no doubt climbed down these narrow stone steps to the water j and there where those two men were sitting washing, as I read the account so graphically described by John, he washed from his eyes the clay, when suddenly those sightless balls, which never had beheld the light of day, looked astonished, delighted, and enraptured upon the splendor of the city about whose walls and palaces and streets ho had wandered in darkness from his childhood. I wondered if the two men sitting down washing in the pool may not have had some knowledge of the wonderful miracle which once occurred here. While remaining there a woman stood patiently waiting at a distance dntil the men had as- cended the steps from the i)Ool, and then she went down and washed. Siloam is one of the most renowned pools in Jeru- salem, and yet its massive walls are falling to decay. To the Fountain of the Virgin and the Pool of Siloam the women came down from Siloah to wash and to carry water up to their hovels, some tilling their skin-bottles from the same water in which others were w'ashing. A few paces below this pool is a larger Pool of Siloam, which is now entirely out of use, and is largely filled up. A number of trees are growing up in it. Close by it we find remnants of the old wall, and possibly of the stairs which “ went down from the city of David ” in Nehemiah’s time. Just south of this pool is the old mulberry-tree, with the stones piled around it, which for centuries has been held to mark the jdace where Isaiah was sawed asunder. About three hundred yards farther down the valley is the Well of .Tob, as it is now called. The Greek and Latin priests 502 THE HOLY LAND. call it the Well of Nehemiah. It is the ancient En-rogel of Joshua’s time. (Joshua xv. 7.) It was here that Jonathan and Ahimaaz, the messengers to David, waited for word from Hushai, who would tell them what direction David must take to escape the hand of Absalom. (II. Samuel xvii. 17.) From this close watch of the city they were compelled to retreat because of tidings borne by a lad to Absalom, and were barely saved by a woman covering them over in the mouth of a cis- tern in the court of her house. This is probably the only never-failing well about Jerusalem. It is about one hundred and twenty-four feet deep and is covered with a rude stone structure. Some men were drawing water from its depths when I visited it, and filling huge troughs beside the well. The depression in the valley here is very great. Looking north- w’ard, the south-eastern corner of the city walls is before you, on Moriah, more than three hundred and fifty feet above the level of the land about the well. At this point south of Jerusalem the Valley of Kedron and that of Ilinnom coming down on the west of the city unite and form the great deep valley which continues south-east- ward down to the Dead Sea. While several of our com- pany were engaged in taking observations from En-rogel a number of miserable le])ers came one after another around us crying and whining and begging for backshish; and we were glad to get away from tins distressing company. So we hast- ened away from the ])lace where Adonijah in David’s great age usurped the throne of his father and made a great feast for tne king’s servants, and his brethren. (I. Kings i. 9.) But Natha.li the prophet and Solomon were not called here to the feast. Yet for all this, Adonijah had been spared by Solomon save for his asking, through Bathsheba, for Abishag the Shu- nammite for his wife. (I. Kings ii. 21-22.) CHAPTER XXII. Valley of Hinnom— Molech — Hill of Evil Counsel — Field of Blood — Lower Pool of Gihon — Aqueduct — Upper Pool of Gihon — Rain- Fall — Coronation of Solomon — Burial-Grounds — Olive-Trees — Tombs of the Kings — Tombs of the Judges — Sepulcher of Christ — Sepulcher Open and Closed — Nob — Saul’s Murder of the Priests. jj^T En-rogel the two valleys, Kedron on the east and J Hinnom on the west of Jerusalem, are united. Pass- ’ ing westward and northward from En-rogel, you ascend the V;illey of Hinnom, or Gehenna, where in an- cient times the rubbish of the Holy City tvas burned. From the name of this valley, Gehenna (fire), we derive our New Testament words “ hell ” and “hell-fire.” Matthew uses it at least seven times, Mark three times, Luke once, and James om;e. The lower portion of the valley was called To- phet ; and here they burned their sons and daughters in the fire as an offering to Molech. (See Jeremiah vii. 31.) In this awful wonship Manasseh, the son of Hezekiah, participated even to the torturous sacrifice of his own sons (II. Kings xxi. 6), but when Josiah came to the throne of David he “defiled Topheth,” “that no man might make his son or his daughter to pass through the fire to Molech.” (II. Kings xxiii. 10.) The Hinnom is a deep, crooked valley, dividing Zion from the Hill of Evil Counsel. This hill is so called from the tradi- tion that Caiaphas here had his dwelling, where he counseled with the Jews how he might put Christ to death. This deep val- ley always made an attack of the city from the western side an impossibility. The Hill of Evil Counsel is cut thick with unnumbered rock caverns and tombs, which in the early Chris- tian centuries were inhabited by hermits. Half way up the 503 504 THE HOLY LAND. hill is tlie supposed site of the Aceldama, or “Field of Blood,” purchased ^vith the “ thirty pieces of silver” paid to Judas for the betrayal of his Lord. (Matthew xxvii. 3-10; Acts i. 18.) From this spot, bought “to bury strangers in,” tradition asserts several ship-loads of dirt were taken to Pisa to cover the Cnni]>n Snutn, in A. D. 1218. (See page 144.) Fig, olive, and walnut trees are found along the valley and up the steep slopes of the hill. Mount Zion, now largely outside of the southern wall, is covered with pottery and debris. In this valley, between Zion and the Hill of Evil Counsel, is the lower and larger pool of Gihon, called Birlcet es Sultan. It is forty feet deep, with heavy walls, and covers almost three acres of ground, being about one hundred and seventy-five yards long and about seventy-five yards wide. It is too low down in the valley for the Avater ever to have been conveyed to the city. Two heavy Avails Avere built across the valley forming itsloAver part, and the upper part is cUt out of the rock. The Avails are falling doAvn, and it does not now contain water. If in repair, it Avould hold not less than nineteen mill- ion gallons of water. At the northern edge of the pool the aqueduct of Solomon, — conveying the Avaterfrom the Pools of Solomon below Bethlehem to Jerusalem, — crosses the Valley of Ilinnom, Avinds soutliAvard around the .dopes of Zion, and enters the temple plateau on the south-east •'>f the city. This loAver Pool of Gihon lies opposite the south-west corner of the city of Jerusalem, and directly south of the Joppa. Gate. It was probahh' used for the watering of the gardens of the lower A'alley. Farther north and at the head of the Gihon Valley, about one hundred and fifty rods Ave.^Jt of the Joppa Gate, is the upper Pool of Gihon, called hy the Mohammedans Birket el Mamilla. This pool is three hundred and sixteen feet long, from east to west, and tAvo hundred feet wide at the west end and two hundred and eighteen feet at the east end, with an aA'erago dejith of eighteen feet. It Avas here in this valley, close by these pools, that Zadok the priest, and Nathan the prophet of God, at the request of David, brought the UPPER POOL OF GIJION. 505 the city, close to the Ynffa Gate, and conveys the water as desired to the Pool of Hezekiah, which is just north of Chris- tian Street in the city. This provision for the supply of water to the city was made not less than two and a half thousand years ago. The pool was almost dry when I visited it, though Dr. Thompson says he has seen it full of water after a rain-fall. It is believed to have formerly been supplied from a fountain now entirely unknown. It is now filled from the drainage in the rainy season. The hill south and west from the Yaffa youthful Solomon and anointed him king with a horn of oil they had brought from the tabernacle. David had said to them, “ Take with you the servants of your lord, and cause Solomon my son to ride upon mine own mule, and bring him down to Gihon.” (I. Kings i. 33.) This pool was con- structed more than seven hundred years before Christ ; for we are told that Hezekiah “stopped the upper water-course of Gihon and brought it straight down to the west side of the City of David.” (II. Chronicles xxxii. 30.) The acjueduct thus constructed by Hezekiah passes under the west wall of UPP— R POOL OF GIHON. 506 THE HOLY LAND. Gate, and down toward the Valle}’ of Hinnom, contains the Armenian, the Christian, and the Jewish burial-grounds. These pools about Jerusalem and in the city, with vast numbers of others which I have not space to describe, show plainly that whatever changes may have occurred in Pales- tine in the last two or three thousand years, still such arrange- ments were necessary anciently to preserve water for the inhabitants of the land. They also indicate that a population ven,’ many times greater than that now found in the land existed formerly, as many of these pools are entirely unused at present, and are really not needed. The countr}’ was also subject to great droughts in ancient times, against which these pools were a provision for the cities. In the days of the glory of the land vast plains, as well as gardens and valleys, were watered by aqueducts leading from these pools. Even the Valley of Jericho, now so barren, was a “region fit for the gods.” The year is divided into two seasons. The “early rains” commence usually in November, and for about five months there is an abundance of rain-fall. After the “latter rains,” which cease in March, and which mature the crops, there is a long, dry summer of seven months Avithout any rain. Various estimates have been made as to the amount of rain-fall in Palestine. Dr. Barclay gives the average rain-fall at Jerusalem as about fifty-six inches. Dr. Vartan’s observa- tion at Nazareth gives it as a little ab(we twenty-three inches per year, on an average of eight years. Lieutenant Conder thinks the average for the land may be placed at tAventy or thirty inches. Thus it is seen to be more than that at Lon- don, which is tweirty-five inches, and less than in the United States, Avhich is giA'en at forty-five inches. These pools and cisterns and aqueducts show plainly that if put in proper order they haA’e capacity to furnish water to irrigate the whole land, and thus supply from the rain-fall an immense population. Farther north on the higher grounds are the modern Rus- sian buildings, the finest outside the city walls. The Rus- sian consul has his residence here. A large cathedral, and TOMBS OF THE KINGS. 507 liospitals, one for women and one for men, furnish sheltering- places for the hundreds and thousands of Russo -Greek pil- grims who visit the Holy City. Nortli of the city of Jerusalem are large orchards of olive- trees, thickly scattered everywhere. The land is quite rocky; and some of the trees look to be of great age, though not nearl}' so large as those in the Garden of Gethsemane. One afternoon we started out on foot through these groves north of the city to visit some ancient tombs. While all about Jerusalem there are many of these interesting excavations in the solid rock, those north of the city are the most important. A few paces from the main road to Shechem, in the olive- groves about three quarters of a mile from Damascus Gate, are the Tombs of the Kings. These consist of vast chambers and rooms connected by narrow passages all cut in the hard, solid rock. In these chambers and smaller rooms are cr}"pts and niches for the deposit of the bodies of the dead. There was an open court before the tomb nearly ninety feet squai'e, exca- vated in the rock a depth of five or six feet. A portico about forty feet long, fifteen feet high, and seven feet wide, covered the entrance to the ante-chamber at the southern end of the portico. The entrance-way is a low door through which we crept into the first chamber, nearly twenty feet square and about seven feet high. The passages are small, being not over tt\"o feet wide and three high ; and one experiences a sufibcat- ing and depressed and lonely sensation as he by a dim taper crawls from one to another, winding here and there, now and then descending lower or climbing up to another chamber, while on every side are little shelves in the rock for the recep- tion of the dead of long ago. Most of these are like pigeon- holes cut in the rock into which the dead body could be pushed. There are four of these gloomy chambers with their surrounding crypts for the dead. These holes are about twenty inches wide and twenty-five high, and deep as the length of the human body. The entire excavation, which furnished a burial-place for about sixty bodies, is a reminder of the royalty and wealth of those who produced it, and cos THE HOLY LAHD. who were entombed here in splendor. The chambers were once closed with huge stone doors. When a body Avas placed in its last resting-place, the niche was closed with a stone slab fitted and cemented in the mouth of the tomb. This made the vaults in which the bodies Avere deposited air-tight all around the chambers, and other vaults could be dug and the tomb thus improved as desired. In this manner a sepul- clier could be enlarged. It Avas to this custom of enlarging the sepulchers and depositing the dead Avith the bodies of those who had gone before that the phrase alludes as Ave often meet it, “Buried in tlie sepulcher of his father.” (Judges viii. 32, 11; Samuel ii. 32.) Jacob had, no doubt, thus enlarged the caA’e of ]\Iachpelah, though Abraham, and Sarah, and Isaac, and Rebecca, and Leali Avere already buried there. We learn this from Joseph, Avho says, “ My father made me swear, say- ing, Lo, I die: in my grave Avhich I have digged for me in the land of Canaan, there shalt thou bury me.” (Gene.sis 1. 5.) From this Ave may readily infer that Jacob had prepared a niche in the rock in the cave of Machj)elah, Avhere he was buried beside Leah. In some of the tombs the niches Avere formed as shelves, into Avhich the dead body Avas laid in the same manner as in the Catacombs at Rome. Why they are called the Tombs of the Kings I do not know, as there is no evidence that any of the kings of Israel A\"ere buried in them. A mile north and Avest of the Tomhs of the Kings and aboUt a mile and a half from the northern wall of Jerusalem are the Tombs of the Judges. They are surrounded by great rocky regions of land, over which we clambered Avith weary steps. The entrance to these tombs is beautifully decorated Avith a vestibule, tAvelve feet wide, carved in the rock, and orna- mented Avith floAvers and vines, finely wrought in the rock. The interior someAvhat resembles the Tombs of the Kings, though the Avhole atfiiir seems more complicated and mysteri- ous in its arrangement. The first chamber entered is about twenty feet square, but the others are much smaller. Probably fifty or more places are shown Avhere the dead Avere once depos- ited. XoAv the lone empty vaults remain to be looked upon SEPULCHER OF CHRIST. 509 bv the traveler. With a small taper in hand, I literally crept from one chamber to another, exploring every nook and corner of these habitations of the dead. Some of the open- ings to the chambers are so small that one can barely press his way into them. It must have requin'd years to cut these openings in this hard lime-stone rock. These rock sepulchers are not now used for the burial of the dead ; and the fact that the ancients buried treasures of various kinds with the departed led to the breaking o|')en and robbing of these tombs centuries ago. Is it iwobable that C'hri.''t was buried in such a tomb as is above described ? We think not. Itcspecting the tomb of Christ, Mattliew, Mark, and Luke tell us that it was “hewn in stone ’’ and “hewn out of a rock.” Matthew tells us that SEPULCHER OPEN. SEPULCHER CLOSED AND SEALED. it was a “new tomb” (Matthew xxvii. 60), while John says it was “a new sepulcher, wherein was never man j'et laid.” (John xix. 41.) Thus we may conclude that the sepulcher had but one room, the niches inobaldy not having j’et been pre- pared, and the body of Jesus was placed in that rock chamber ; or if the niches had been prepared, the body of Christ was not deposited in one of them on account of its incompleted em- balmment. (Mark xvi. 1.) If the body was placed in the usual niche it was in a kind of shelf in the rock, so that when Mary looked into the tomb she saw two angels “ sitting, the one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.” (John xx. 12.) The entrance to these tombs was closed either by a square stone, like a door, which moved on hinges, or by a large round stone in the shape of a wheel, which could be rolled against the opening. 510 THE HOLY LAND. The cut on page 509 shows the round stone door, the one being open and the other closed and sealed. This is done by fastening a string across and sealing it Avith wax. In this manner the JeAVS sealed the tomb of Christ before setting a AA'atch about it. (Matthew xxA'ii. 66.) The entrance to these tombs is by a Ioaa' door, so that aa'c can readily understand the expression “ stooping down,” respecting Peter’s position as he looked into the sei)ulcher, and how Mary, as she Avept, “stooped doAvn” to look into the place AA'here they had laid her Lord. (John xx. 11.) A little Avay east of the main road to Shecliem from Jerusa- lem, and on the northern slopes of the mount of Olives some- Avhere, once stood Nob, the city of the priests. Isaiah speaks of it as being on the way of Sennacherib’s army Avhich came by Aiath, Michmash, Ramah, Gibeah, Anathoth, and to Nob, Avhere he should “ shake his hand against the mount of the daughter of Zion, the hill of Jerusalem.” (Isaiah x. 32.) Thus we are sure that Nob Avas located somewhere near the north- western part of the mount of OHa'cs. Lieutenant Conder describes a plateau a little way to the right of the road from the Damascus Gate toAA’ard Shechem, three hundred yards AA’ide and eight hundred yards from east to west, AA’ith a hill connecting the plateau with Olivet. Jerusalem is visible. SomeAvhere here he locates Nob. Of course there are no traces of the place, nor should Ave expect to find any remnants of a toAvn destroyed more than three thousand years ago. Saul in his rage against David commanded Doeg to destroy the priests because he supposed them to sympathize with David, and “ Doeg the Edomite turned, and he fell upon the priests, and slcAV on that day fourscore and five persons that did wear a linen ephod. And Nob, the city of the priests, smote he with the edge of the sword, both men and Avomen, children and sucklings, and oxen, and asses, and sheep, Avith the edge of the sword.” (I. Samuel xxii. 18, 19.) It was an aAvful deed that shamed and sorroAved the place of the priests, the precise location of which Avill probably remain forever unknown. CHAPTER XXIII. Walls of Jerusalem — Towers — Eastern Wall — Great Stones — Founda- tions — Golden Gate — Council- Cbambers — Superstitions — Place of Judgment — St. Stephen’s Gale — Herod’s Gate — Damascus Gate — Length of Entire Wall — Joppa Gate — Tower of David — Mount Zion — Zion Gate — Tyropeon Valley — Dung Gate — Stone-Quarries under the City — Jeremiah’s Grotto — Golgotha. Jerusalem is strongly defended by massive walls, i which are over two and a half miles in circumfer- ehee. Like the New Jerusalem, of which it is a type, the city lies “four-square.” The wall is nine feet in thick- ly ness, and averages sixty feet in height on the outside. I At the south-eastern corner of the city it is eighty feet high, while at places it is not over forty. The top is mounted with a parapet, behind and belotv which is a walk nearly two feet wide, upon which one may pass entirely around the wall. There are great towers, which are higher than the walls, some of which remain from the ancient times. The wall on the ea.stern side along the hills Moriah and Bezetha is nearly straight, running almost due north and south. Its length is a little over half a mile. It has a gradual descent from the north to the south, and is entered by only one opening, called St. Stephen’s Gate, which is a little more than one third of the way dow’n from the northern end of the wall. The walls show evident signs of different periods of construction. At the south-eastern corner there are great stones in the lower part of the wall, nearly twenty feet long and four and five feet thick. They have the Jewish bevel, and no doubt were placed in their present position in the times of the great prosperity of Jerusalem. No d(niV)t many of these great stones were here 511 512 THE HOLY LAND. where they now lie when Solomon saw the blessing of God resting upon the kingdom of his father David, which he had been chosen to administer. Captain Warren sunk shafts down near the south-eastern corner of the city and found the foundation of the wall sixty and even eighty feet below the present surface of the earth. Here on the slopes of Moriah it is not only founded upon the solid native rock, but a scarp about five feet wide is cut in the rock and the wall built in it so that it is impossible for the foundations to be removed. There are seven gates to the pi-esent wall, five of which only are open. About a thousand and fifty feet from the south- east corner of the city wall, and near the north-east corner of the temple plateau, is the Golden Gate, the most beautiful in its architectural structure of any of the entrances to the Holy City. There is a projection of the massive wall of six feet for the length of fifty-five feet, in the center of which once opened this beautiful gate, entering into the temple plateau. It is walled shut on the outside, and has been so for probably a thousand years, and possibly much longer, though an entrance to its chamber on the inside is open. There is something sug- gestive in this splendid gate having been so long closed, and the more striking when we remember that it is most probable that it occupies the site of the “way of the gate of the out- ward sanctuary which looked toward the east,” as described by the prophet more than five hundi’ed years before Christ. Then he declared, “This gate shall be shut, it shall not be opened, and no man shall enter in by it; because the Lord'' the God of Israel hath entered in b}' it, therefore it shall be shut.” (Ezekiel xliv. 2.) It had a double entrance, mounted with Roman arches, sustained on either side by Corinthian columns, richly carved and sculptured. Dr. Robinson thinks it possible that it was erected by Hadrian in the second century as an entrance to the Jupiter Temple, which he erected on the site of the Temple of Solomon. If so, it doubt- less stands upon the foundation of another gate which was wasted in the destruction of the city. Its double entrance GOLDEN GATE. bn shows us that it was intiuuled by one o])ening to admit those wlio would enter tlie city, while the other might be thronged and pressed by those departing. The Hoor of the tower inside is about twenty feet below the level of the llaram plateau. The view, from the toj), over the city and over the Valley of Kedron is very delightful. Traditinn has connected this THE GOLDEN GATE — INTERIOR VIEW. gate with the ‘‘gate of the Tem])le which is called Beau- titul ” (Acts iii. 2); but this is a mistake, as that doubtless was an entrance to the Temple proper, though not far from this place. The tow(>r of this gate is sixty-eight by thirty- four feet oast and wast and north and south, and contains the 33 514 THE HOLY LAND. most splendid chamber of any of the gates of Jerusalem. Our illustration on page 513 gives a tine view of the interior of the Golden Gate. The great chambers of the gates are not only occupied by the guards of the city, but are the rooms where petty trials are conducted; and in times of war, councils are held in them. It was from this custom that Jesus drew one of his most powerful utterances when he sj)oke to Peter and his dis- ciples of the security of his church, saying, “The gates of hell shall not prevail against it.’’ (Mattliew xvi. 18.) Tlie council- chambers of hell and the armies of hell which come out of its gates shall not prevail against the church of Christ. The ^loliamniedans hold the superstitious idea that it is at this gate the Christians will some day endeavor to enter the city to capture it; and hence it is walled shut. A little south of this gate, near the top of the wall on tlie outside, is a broken column about one and a half feet in diameter, which protrudes from the wall, upon which, the Mohammedans as- sert, Mohammed is to sit at the end of the world. A wire is to be stretched from this place to Mount Olivet, and whoever can walk, assisted by the angels, on that wire acfoss the Val- ley of Kedron will enter heaven ; tho.se who fall off will be carried away to hell. A few hundred yards north of the Golden Gate is the. St. Stephen’s Gate, which is the great en- trance and exit for the })ilgrims and travelers from the Jericho country. Out of this gate, or the one standing at this place, Christ with his disciples often passed at even-tide as he turned away from the city to go to Bethany, beyond Olivet. There are two gates in the northern wall. The one called “Herod’s Gate” is closed, while Damascus Gate, at the termi- nus of the street of the same name, affords the passage for all who travel to Shechem or the country of the north. It stands in the valley which divides the hills Bezetha and Akra, and is one of the best-built and mo.st strongly-fortified enfrances to the city. (See illu.stration on j)age 475.) It was undoubtedly hut of this gate that Saul of Tarsus, with his companions, passed proud and defiant, as he started for distant Damascus to arrest and maltreat the disciples of Christ. ro WER OF DA vm 515 Hei’od’s Gate, now closed, is about three hundred and sev- enty-five yards east of the Damascus Gate, and three hundred and thirty yards from the north-east corner of the city wall. From the Damascus Gate the wall runs nearly west south- west, about six hundred yards to the north-west corner of the city. Thus the entire length of the northern wall is nearly three (quarters of a mile. There is considerable de- pression of the earth at the Damascus Gate, and the wall gradually rises as it goes toward the west corner. The wall on the west side of the city is the shortc-st of any, being about half a mile long, with the Yaffa, or Joppa, Gate a little north of the middle. It is irregular and crooked north of the Joppa Gate. From that point to the south-west corner of the city it is almost straight and runs north and south parallel with the wall on the east of the city. Just south of the Joppa Gate is the Citadel, or Tower of David, as seen in our illustra- tion QU page 485. It is a quaint old structure or group of five square towers irregularly combined, with a deep wide moat surrounding it, walled up above the street to j)revent man or beast falling into it. This moat is about eighty feet wide and probably originally as deep, but it is now considerably filled with earth. The tow'er is somewdiat concealed from view as you approach the city on the Joppa road by the tow'er of the Joppa Gate, once called the “Fish Gate.” (II. Chron. xxxiii. 14.) The foundations of the tower and parts of the structure are of great. antiquity, being built of large stone, some of them ten feet long, and dressed with the bevel peculiar to Jewish structures. The height of the tow'er is given by Dr. McGarvey as about eighty feet. It is suiiposexl to occupy the site of the Tower of Hippicus, as mentioned by Josephus. The walls on the west and south do not embrace all of Mount Zion. About half of that sacred hill lies outside of the wall. Part of it is cultivated, while a considerable por- tion is covered with pottery and debris. In this is the proph- ecy of Micah fulfilled to this day — “ Therefore shall Zion for your sake be plowed as a field, and Jerusalem shall become heaps.” (Micah iii. 12.) 516 THE HOLY LAND: The southern wall of the city, crossing from Mount Zion to Moriah to the south-east corner of the cit)’, is about two thirds of a mile long, and is the most crooked portion of the city wall. About three hundred yards from the south-west corner of the city, on the highest peak of Mount Zion, is the Zion Gate — sometimes called David’s Gate. It is open for use, though not so much frequented as the Joppa, Damascus, and St. Stephen’s gates. From the Zion Gate the wall makes four abrupt turns northward, running north-eastward in its trend over three hundred yards to a small gate called the Dung Gate. It is sometimes closed; though we found it open, and occasionally passed iir and out of it in going to or coming from the Pool of Siloam, over the hill Ophel, directly into the city. Here the dirt has tilled up on the inside of the city until it is almost as high as the wall, though the wall on the outside is thirty or forty feet high. In this part of the city are extensive gardens, in which vegetables are grown. There were large cactuses and other growths, which showed the soil to be productive. From the Dung Gate the wall descends Mount Zion, crosses the Tyropeou Valley, and strikes the •slope of Ophel, about one hundred and seventy yards from the Dung Gate. Here it bends at a right angle and runs north up Ophel ninety-eight yards, and turns at right angle and runs east, forming for about seven hundred and fourteen feet the southern wall of the Ilaram or temple plateau. Thus the circuit of the cit}’ is given by Conder at two and three fourths miles, while Dr. INIcGarvey, agreeing with Dr. Barclay's esti- mate, makes it a little less than two and a half miles. The latter measured on the walls, while Conder probably meas- ured on the outside of the walls. The style of architecture and the general construction, of the walls, and the arrange- ment as to the streets, are no doubt much the same as in the long ages past. Whoever takes a journey around Jerusalem upon the wall of the city will join the psalmist in his praise when he sings, “Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King. God is known in her palaces for a refuge.” STONE-QUARRIES UNDER THE CITY. 517 (Psalms xlviii. 2, 3.) And again, “Walk about Zion, and go round about her : tell the towers thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her palaces; that ye may tell it to the generations following.'’ (Psalms xlviii. 12, 13.) The Jopi>a Gate is the only entrance to the city on the western side, while on the south there are two — Zion Gate on Mount Zion and the Dung Gate. There is one opem gate on the north — the Damascus Gate, — and St. Stephen’s Gate on the east. For many years, and until recently, the gates were all closed at sunset, and remained so until the rising of the sun. This is not so now. Though they are closely guarded, persons are allowed to enter or pa.ss out of the city at any hour of the night. I went out before daylight and entered far in the night. While the gate of the heavenly city is narrow and guarded, as in all eternity past, may it not be said that in the nine.teenth century the pathway to that home in the skies is wide open all the time? “And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day : for there shall be no night there.” (Revelation xxi. 25.) One walking about Jerusalem would readily be led to ex- claim as did the disciples to their Lord, “See what manner of stones, and what buildings are here ” (Mark xiii. 1.), and nat- urally enough wonders where the stones were secured, as no quarries appear as at Baalbec in Syria. The fact is, these stones have largely been taken from under the city, the quarry hav- ing been unknown until its discovery in 1852 by Dr. Barclay, who came upon it in an accidental way. It is the only case in wdiich I have heard of a dog rendering service in the discov- eries of the Holy Land. As the missionary was passing along the road north of the city, his dog scented some animal which burrowed in an opening in the rock, and began scratching at the hole. The dog .soon fell in, but by and by made his ap- pearance again. Dr. Barclay, anticipating some worthy dis- covery, one afternoon went outside the city, and with two sons arranged to elude the Mohammedan’s eye by allowing themselves to be shut out of the city one night. In the night they effected an entrance to the quarry, and with lights in 518 THE HOLY LAND. liand explored it. It is called Barclay’s Quarry, or the “ Cot- ton Grotto.” We spent a part of a half day exploring its wonderful recesses. It is entered through a hole in the rock, under the wall of the city a few hundred feet east of the Damascus Gate. Having secured a guide, and being well provided with candles, which we lighted immediately upon creeping down into this great cavern, we crept, and climbed, and walked for hundreds of feet in every direction. The bot- tom is very uneven, being covered with stone chips, and at places with great rocks which have during the ages fallen down from above. Frequent columns are left standing to pre- vent the rocks from above falling down in a mass. At places we found rocks hanging almost ready to be severed from the ceiling. Others at the side are partially severed from the native rock by a channel, or curve six or eight inches wide, and were thus almost ready for removaL It is evident that the stones were quarried by thus cutting a curve or channel several inches wide and inserting a block of wood which was wet until it expanded and sjdit the stone from the rock. Some of the stones loosened in this way lie in the quarry and corre- spond in size and shape with those used in the substruction of the Haram and city wall. This (juarry extends nearly one thousand feet toward the temple plateau, and is over three thousand feet in circumference. At many places the ceiling is thirty feet from the floor. At one point near the extremity from the entrance is a spring which trickles down into a basin in the rock ; but the water is not good. The rock is a soft limestone and easily worked, but doubtless becomes harder when exposed to the atmosphere. I have no doubt that from this immense quany under Bezetha, Solomon secured the stones for the city and temple of his day. The Grotto of Jere- miah lies in the same rock immediately north of these quar- ries, and is entered by an opening just north on the side of the moat cut through Bezetha, east and west, in the solid rock. It is on the eminence just north of the city and a little way east of the Damascus Gate that many reliable modern writers locate “ the place of a skull ” where they crucified our Lord GOLGOTHA. 519 and Savior. This was probably tlie place of public execution. Near it in the fifth century stood a cha})el to St. Stephen, marking the traditional jilace where he was stoned to death. I have carefully read many autliorities u])on this question and am much inclined to bc'lieve this to be the site of tlie cruci- fixion rather than the place where the Church of the Holy Sepulcher stands. This, however, has all the force of tradi- tion against it. Yet we know that the crucifixion of our Lord occurred without the city, for the author of Hebrews tells us that ‘"Jesus, also, that he niiglit sanctify the people with his own blood, 'suffered without the gate.” (Hebrews xiii. 12.) Jolm tells us that “the place where Je.sus was cru- cified was nigh to the city.” (John xix. 20.) In this region north of the city the ancient Jewish cemeteries were located; and if we should look for the ])lace of the crucifixion near a highway, near the place of public execution, and convenient to Joseph’s new tomb, we should hardly find a jfiaee answer- ing so fully to these conditions as this knoll by the road to Shechera north of the city. Lieutenant Conder argues this view with great skill and plausibility. For some purpose we are perhaps wisely kept in doubt. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher has almost all of the traditions in its favor as the place of the burial of Christ, and his crutafixion as well. The one argument against it is its location so near the center of the uj)per city. At present it is far within the wall of the city, and whether its site lay within the wall of the city of Herod it is impossible to det(*rmine without extended exca- vations, which the Mohammedans will not allow. -lust where the northern wall of the city of Christ’s time was built no one can more than conjecture. C’onjectures greatly differ as to this location. At present the belief of the people accredits the place of the crucifixion of Christ to the site of the Holy Sep- ulcher. And yet 1 can never forget nor escape the feelings which came to my lu art again and again as I walked over the hill north and east of the Damascus Gate. Somehow it seemed to me that it was there that my Lord was crucified. CHAPTER XXIV. Streets of Jerusalem— Haram es Sheriff— Dome of the Rock — Sacred Place — Praying- Place of David —Superstitions — Dome of the Chain — Praying Before the Mosque— Cisterns— Mosque cl Aksa — Cradle oi Christ — Solomon’s Stables - Waihng - Place of the Jews. Jerusalem is truly an oriental city. There is noth- ing like it in the world. It has really only four streets worthy of being named as streets. Damascus ^Street runs directly southward from the Damascus Gate; Christian Street runs northward from Zion’s Gate; David 1 Street goes eastward from the Yaffa Gate, and the Via Dolorosa (the way of the cross) runs we.stward from St. Ste- phen’s Gate, being a short distance north of and parallel with David Street. These streets have frequent bends and are narrow and filthy. At some places the houses extend entirely over the streets. The buildings are crowded together, so that there is no arrangement for streets. Xo vehicles are driven or could be driven throuirh the citv. The donkeys and camels have just room enough to pass along the lanes crowded with men, women, and children, who sit in the dirt with their cakes and marketing to sell. Yet there is scarcely a nook or corner of this renowned city in which one does not find some- thing possessing thrilling interest. In the south-eastern corner of the citv, covering Mount Moriah, is the Haram es Sheriff — the Xob'e Sanctuary, or the temple plateau. This plateau was formed by building walls on each side of the rocky mountain, and then filling up low places. This was accomplished in many places by building up substructions and arching them over, leaving great caverns 520 DOME OF THE ROCK. 521 below. The southern portion of the east wall of the city forms the eastern wall of this plateau. The surface of this structure is alino.^t level, and at some places the native rock has been cut away. The central part, however, is somewhat elevated above the other. The plateau is in the form of an irregular quadrangle, being one thousand five hundred and thirty feet long on the east side, and one thousand six hun- dred and one feet on the west, and on the south nine hundred and twenty-two feet wide, and one thousand and forty-two feet wide at the north end. It contains not less than thirty- five acres, and is almost a mile around it. It is, all things considered, the most interesting spot on the globe, and em- braces the site of the ancient Temple of Solomon and its open court. It contains here and there a few olive-trees, and a number of buildings. We secured a permit from the government to enter this sacred inclosure, which costs about one dollar per person, and with a stout guard of soldiers for our protection passed most of one day visiting and inspecting this wonderful place. As we entered the Haram by David Street, through the cotton bazaars, there lay before us the vast court, and a little way from us the splendid building called the Dome of the Rock — called also Kubbet es Sakhra. This is the most interesting building on the Haram. It stands in the center of a platform elevated nearly ten feet above the other portions of the plateau. This table or platform is almost a rectangle, measuring on the east five hundred and twenty- eight feet, on the west five hundred and forty-four, on the south four hundred and twenty-five, and on the north five hundred and .six feet. It is paved entirety with smooth white limestone, while the rest of the Haram is not. In the north- western corner the rock has been cut and leveled down to its present uniform plane. In the center of this platform stands the Dome cf the Rock, which covers the sacred rock upon which it is believed Abraham offered Isaac, and which was the thrashing-floor of Oman, in the time of David. The sacred rock occupies the center of the building. It is about six and a half feet higher than the platform all about it, slop- 522 CHAIN, POME or THE BOCK, DOME OF THE ROCK. 523 ing lower tuwiinl the etu^t side. Thi.s huge rock, the highest point of IMuriah, is fifty-two feet long and thirty-eight feet Avide. The surface is not Hat, but broken off somewhat south and east. There is something which awes one into a rever- ence for tlii.s rock of antiquity when he considers all the tra- ditions which worthily belong to it. ft was no doul)t included in the holy and beautiful Temple of Solomon, and may have been the place of the holy of holies, where rested the ark of the covenant; Tradition asserts that the ark yet lies buried and concealed beneath this sacred rock. If this should be indeed the j)lace of the holy of holies, then upon this uneven surface of rock, which has stood hei'e j)reserved and venerated for thousands of years, the feet of the high-priests stood before the cherubim over the mercy seat and talked face to face with God. The rock is now surrounded with a heavy railing to protect it from any profane touch. The building around it has a double corridor with splendid ancient columns. It is entered by a gate from each of the cardinal i)oints of the com- pass. Our illustration on the opposite page ju’esents a sj)lendid view of this structure, which next to the tem))le at Medina is the most venerated of all Mohammedan buildings. Of course the Mohammedans attach many traditions to this place. The building as shown in our illustration is octagonal, each side being al)out sixty-six feet long. Its height to the dome is about forty -six fe(‘t. The dome, which rises from the sup- ports of pillars, and the double row of columns, is ninety- seven feet high and sixty-five feet in diameter. It is of wood, covered with lead, which looked upon from without appears as though it leaned slightly to the west. The interior of the building possesses real grandeur, thoiigh there is less artistic skill than one expects to find. There is a circle of twelve col- umns around the rock which support the dome. Out.dde of these piers and columns is a sjiace about forty-nine feet wide entirely surrounding the inner aisle. In this there is one circle of piers and columns supporting the outer portions of the roof. Lieutenant Conder thinks this outer wall and thirteen feet of the space is an addition to the building since 524 THE HOLY LAND. its first construction. The marble mosaic floors and marble columns of various colors, which were once in the Temple of Jupiter, and it may be were long ago in the Jewish Temple, upon which a mellow light is thrown tlivough the shaded window, present a scene one can never forget. There are no images here, but many quotations from the Koran, in gilded letters, upon the walls. What a history this place has shared! Once the solitary mountain to which Abraham came from the south to ofier up Isaac a sacrifice ; once the thrashing-floor of Oman, where David built an altar unto the Lord and offered burnt-offerings and peace-offerings; once the place where Sol- omon erected at great cost under the special direction of the Lord the most si)lendid temple to our God the world has ever known. Here stood the temple which the returned Hebrews built in their poverty and their sorrow, the inferiority of which must have added to their pains as they remembered the glory of the former teinj)le. On this same site the splendor-loving Herod built the third temple of magnificence into which our Lord Jesus so often entered. Here was the altar of incense and the table of show-bread. Forty years after the time of Christ this third tenii)le was burned and destroyed ; and Hadrian, the Roman emi)eror, erected on this same place an idol temple, in which he enshrined a statue of Jupiter. What otlier his- tory lies with its dim shadow over this awful place, who can tell? The Jews are not allowed to enter this sacred inclosure, though they regard it as the place where once stood their holy and beautiful house where their fathers worshiped God. Yet for more than a thousand years the Mohammedans have held possession of this sacred place, with but little interruption. There is a kind of pulpit erected at the south-east of the Sacred Rock, five or six feet high, from which a good view of the rock is obtained. Close by this pulpit our guide led the way down a flight of steps perhaps six feet wide, into a cav- ern cut in the rock about twenty feet square. The ceiling is of the native Sacred Rock, and about seven feet high, while the floor is handsomely paved with marble. There is around marble slab near the center of the chamber which covers a SUPERSTITIONS. 526 wall or passage, probably uii opening to an aqueduct or pas- sage from this chamber througli which the blood and water may have been carried from the temple court. Just above this is a round hole in the Sacred Rock almost three feet in di- ameter, through which Mohammed is said to have passed when he ascended to heaven from his ])lace of })iayer in the chamber. The rock wanted to attend him, and after being lifted several feet was caught by (iabriel and stopped. The prints of his fingers are still shown, and the rock, by the Mo- hammedans, is believed to be suspended in the air without support. In this chamber, the real original uses of which can only be conjectured, there are .several altars or prajdng-places where our guide solemnly informed us David, Solomon, Eli- jah, Abraham, and Mohammed once prayed. As we Avere Avalking through the gorgeous building, con- ducted by a devout Mohammedan guide, a little way from the northern side of the Sacred Rock I discovered a jasper slab. Our guide told us that Mohammed drove nineteen gold nails into the slab, and that once in a long time an angel came down and removed one of the gold nails. M’hen they are all gone then the end of the world will come. (There are three remaining.) He also informed me that any one who deposited a piece of money on any one of the gold heads remaining, would go to heaven sure. I thought it Avise to defer mak- ing the deposit at least long enough to give the matter due reflection, and concluded to try a little humor on the priest. So, speaking through an interpreter, I asked him if persons performing this duty Avent up immediately, or at any specific time. The old man smiled, looked at me, and then gazed up at the great dome and ansAvered, “ I guess there have none gone up yet, as I see there is no hole in the rpof.” It is e\’i- dently a little trick practiced to get money out of visitors ; and doubtless many a poor soul suflers from the delusion. On the east of the Dome of the Rock is a small building about fifteen feet in diameter, the same in form as the larger building. It is called the Dome of the Chain. A very pretty A’ieAV of it is given in our illustration on page 522. This little 526 THE HOLY LAND. building is sometinu's called Mchhnict David's jjlace of judgment^ — ami there are some foolish traditions attaching to it. Its shafts and columns with their ba.rayer. It is a Mohammedan ijraying-jilace. P:aAYING BEFORE THE MOSQUE OF OMAR. All about on the Ilaram jdatform I noticed jiersons sj)read- ingdown a mat and going through with their prayers as de- scribed on page 240. They always removed their shoes if they were not already barefooted, and seemed to be very devout. Two tall thin men, very black, followed us almost all the time as we visited various places in the Haram, and some* MOSQUE EL AKSA. 527 times beside us and soinelimes belli ud us they would get down at tlieir prayers. I thought possibly it was to be “ seen of men ; ” for they prayed at least in half a dozen or more places, as they followed us slowly from place to jilace. Possibly they considered that our company desecrated or jiolluted the place, and thfiy were sanctifying it again. Peneath the plateau over which we are walking there are vast numbers of cisterns, some of which are very large. One of them is described by Captain Warren as being sixty-three feet long, fifty-seven wide, and fort\'-two feet dec}). The same indefatigable ex})lorer, to whom an endlc.ss debt of gratitude is due, found and examined not less than thirty-three of these cisterns beneath this teni})le plateau. A still larger cistern, found in the southern part of the Ilaram, and close by the Mosque el Aksa, the water from the roof of which runs into it, is about forty-two feet deej) and seven hundred and forty feet in circumference. It is called the Royal Cistern, and, I believe, was first discovered by Dr. Barclay. The roof of native rock is su})ported by pillars of the original rock, left standing when the cistern was prepared. On the southern pt)rtion of this tem})le }>lateau or Ilaram stands the Mosque el Aksa (mosque far away — from Mecca), dating back in its foun- dation to the time of -Justinian, who here built a Christian church in honor of the Virgin Mary. It is a huge and com- plex building, which shows great antiquit}’. It was first a church, then a mosque; then the Crusaders converted it to a church, eight hundred years ago; hut, it became a mosque one hundred years later. The stones in its subterranean parts" exhibit the ancient Phnenician art. It retains much of the ancient basilica form. The entire building is two hundred and seventy feet long and one hundred and ninety-eight feet w’ide. The material is of all kinds, and shows that it also came from temples and structures which had yielded to de- .struction before its erection. Some of the })recious contents are beautiful indeed; some of the paintings are miserable. There has long been a foolish superstition that whoever should pass between two monolith columns of stone, about 528 THE HOLY LAND. ten inches apart, standing in this mosque -would surely go to heaven. This has, in the centuries, been the occasion of thou- sands and millions of persons jrressing between these columns. They have thus been continually scraped until not less than two or three inches of the stones have been Avorn away. IMany a fat pilgrim has S(j[ueezed hard to get through this narrow place, Avith the hope of eternal bliss. Xoav all such hopes are blasted, for a great iron frame-Avork has been erected in those passes so that none may jiass that Avay. Perhaps the most interesting substructions of the temple plateau are beneath its soutli-eastern corner. Descending a narroAV tiiglit of steps, tliirty-two in number, Ave Avere at a small Mo.dem oratory, or praying- place, called “The Cradle of Christ,'’ from a niche in the stone Avail. It is said that anciently .JeAvish Avomeu resorted here in expected birth of children, and remained until the presentation of the child in the Temple. The story is that this is the dAvelling- place of Simeon, ami here the Virgin and her holy Child abode for a time Avlien Christ Avas jiresented in the Temple. Soon we Avere in the great vaults called “ Solomon's Stables.” There are no less than one hundred scpiare piers, built up of ancient tlrafted stones, which support the semi-circular vaults aboA'e, near thirty feet from the floor. To Avhat uses these A'ast cham- bers, once called Solomon's Staldes, have been su1)jected no one can tell. Xo dould tlicA* haA'e often been tbe sheltering:- place of the inhabitants of .Terusalem in its times of Avar and destruction. These great drafted stones forming the hundred pillars Avhich sup])ort the massive stones and floors aboA^e, however removed in the later ages and placed in new posi- tions, tell the story of olden limes. I haA’e not time nor space to Avrite of much Avhich attracts the closest attention here, nor of the many foolish legends and traditions told to one as he travels shoeless over these cold floors, guarded by soldiers from the fanatical Mohammedans, .«ome of Avhom folloAv menac- ingly and others of Avhom fall on their knees here and there and go through their prayers. There are A'arious other smaller substructions here, and other rude buildings in the plateau. \YAITANG-PLACE OF THE JEWS. 529 but to visit them would require a more tedious journey than the reader Avould he willing to undertake. The we.st wall of this Ilarum or temjde plateau on the out- side or west side is the “ Wailing- Place of the Jews,” who every day sit in mournful sorrow, bemoaning the desolation of the house of their God. Our illustration presents a verw good view of the place* and of tlie mournful scene. The wall for a distance bt one hundred and lifty-six feet, and more wailing-place of the jews at jekusalem. than fifty feet high, shows great antiepiity. The nine lower courses of stone are of huge size. Some of th(*.se blocks of stone are over sixteen feet long and five or six feet thick. The old buildings forming the west side of the street stand some distance off, leaving a narrow street about fourteen feet ■R ide. This little street is reached by a dirtv alley from David Street. The largest company of mourners here is to be seen on every Friday afternoon. Then there are from one hundred 34 530 THE HOLY LAXD. and fifty to two hundred peiiioii:!. Old men and old women, young men and maidens, chant solemn songs and read mourn- fully over their old Hehrew ])rayei-hooks. How solemn the words on their lips as they mourn the desolation of Zion ! Zion is a wilderness; Jerusalem a desolation. “Our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers piaised thee, is burned up with fire: and all our pleasant things are laid waste.’’ (Isaiah Ixiv. 11.) “0 God, the lieatheii are come into thine inheritance; thy holy tom])le have they defiled; they have hiid Jerusalem on h(*aps.” “We are become a reproach to our neighbors, a scorn and derision to tlieiii that are round about us.” “0 remember not against us former ini<|uities: let thy tender mercies speedily ])revent us; for we are brought very low.” (Psalms l.Kxix. 1, 4, and 8.) The.se people seem to expe- rience a bitter sorrow, as they kiss often these stones made wet by their tears, and pray that peace and jo}' may abide at Jerusalem, and the branch .spring up out of Zion. I shall never forget the peculiar emotion experienced as T watched this strange and weird ceremony. Some of the women ap- peared very young, while others were quite aged. The men were mostly advj^nced in years, with a grave countenance and a manly, oriental bearing. No one of their number seemed to be at all disturbed by the presence of stranger.s. ^lant' of them were poorly dres.sed, and I supposed were from the poorer class of Jews in Jerusalem. The men and women seated on the ground would go on reading mournfully from their books, in a sing-song tone, moving their head and body backward and forward in a regular seesaw movement. Then a number Avould rise and join those tvho stood by the wall and there kiss the century -beaten .stone, while the tears now and again coursed down over their cheeks. Some were seated close beside the wall, while others were on the other side of the alley. I found my heart strangely touched. Just above and north-east from them is the place where once stood the holy Temple of the Lord, now occupied by a Mohammedan mosque. The nation of Abraham is scattered to the ends of the earth for its sin in rejecting the Lord’s Anointed, the Son of WAILING-PLACK OF THE ,1EWS. 631 David, and yvt these are nioiirnfully looking for the coining of the Messiah and the restoration of the glory of former times. Biedeker says that on certain days toward (‘vening they perforin a kind of chant, which he renders as follows: For the place that lies de.solate, We sit in solitude and mourn. For the palace that is destroyed, We sit in solitude and mourn. For the walls that are overthrown, We sit in solitude and mourn. For our majesty I hat i.s departed, We sit in solitude and mourn, h'or our great men wlio are dead. We sit in solitude and mourn. For the precious stones that are burned. We sit in solitude and mourn. For the priests who have stumbled. We sit in solitude and mourn. For our kings who have despised Him, We sit in solitude and mourn. Every alternate line is read by a leader, and the people fol- low with the words, “ We sit in solitude and mourn.” On another occasion they use the following litany, also in a re- sponsive chant : We pray thee, have mercy on Zion ; Gather the children of Jerusalem; May beauty and majesty surround Zion ; Ah ! Turn thyself mercifully to Jerusalem. Haste, haste. Redeemer of Zion ; Speak to the heart of Jerusalem. May thy kingdom soon return to Zion; Comfort those who mourn over Jerusalem. May pe'ace and joy abide in Zion ; And the branch [of Jesse] spring up at Jerusalem. These mournful cries are but as the lowing of the cattle. The Jews rejected, and continually crucify, the Son of God, by whose intercession and merit alone they might come to the Father and be healed of their sorrow. Thus do we learn the world-wide love of God, which embraced first the Jewish nation in a special covenant in order that he might show himself in all his fullness to all nations of men when the 532 THE HOLY LAND. fullness of time was come. And still may we not hojic that the sorrow of this once-chosen people of God shall wear itself out and break them down, and that some newer and fuller manifestation of Christ to the Avorld shall convince them that Jesus was and is the Messiah, and they yet be gathered into the divine fold. This temple plateau was doubtless connected with INIount Zion by bridges and sidendid walks. Quite south of the Jews’ Wailing- Place is what is known as Robinson’s Arch — named after the discoverer. These archcvs, which have their beginning in the wall of the temple plateau, were discovered lying fallen in the Tyropeon Valley, now covered many feet in the dchris. Dr. Robin.son found them by excavations sixty feet below the point from which the arch starts. Dr. Wilson also discovered a similar arch farther north. These bridges are supposed to belong to the time of Herod; but it is argued well and believed by explorers that other like bridges spanned this deep Tyropean Valle}' in the times of Solomon. There seems to be evident allusion to this in the account of what Avas beheld by the queen of Sheba, who was attracted to Jeru- salem by the fame of Solomon; for she saw the “ house that he had built, and his ascent by Avhieh he Avent up into the house of the Lord,” and Avas so affected by these things that ‘‘there Avas no more spirit in her.” (1. Kings x. l-o.) This “ascent” Avas doubtless a royal passage across the valley to the Holy Temple. CHAPTER XXV. Via Dolorosa — Pool of Bethesda — Tower of Antonia — Pilate’s House — Arch of Pilate — Church of the Holy Sepulcher — Stone of Anoint- ment— Holy Sepulcher — Rent Rock — Chapel of St. Helena — Find- ing of the Cross — Sacred Pillar — Tomb of Adam — Pilgrims — Holy Fire — Pool of Hezekiah — Armenian Monastery — Tomb of David — Lepers — Synagogue — Bazaars — Hospital of St. John — Lady Riding a Donkey — Money-Changers — Arab Quarrel. HE most interesting street in Jerusalem, and the one regarded with more superstitious reverence than any or all others, is the Via Dolorosa,— i\\e Way of the Cross. If you are in the eastern part of the city, or outside the city in the Valley of Kedron, it is well to enter through St. Stephen’s Gate, which leads into the Via Dolorosa, through a narrow street leading southward about sixty steps to a gate entering the Haram. Not wishing to enter the Haram, w'e turn to the right at the Pool of Bethesda, which is just north of the Haram or temple plateau. This is the largest pool or reservoir within the city walls, though it does not now contain Avater. It is almo.st seventy feet lower than the Haram just south of it, and occupies a deep valley or fissure in the rock, originally separating Moriah from Be- zetha. It is called Birlcit Israil — Pool of Israel. At its east end there is only a narroAv street between this pool and the city wall. The Via Dolorosa runs on its northern side. The length of the pool from the east westAvard is three hun- dred and sixty feet, and its width one hundred and thirty feet, with a neck at its south-west end forty-two feet wide, extending one hundred and forty feet farther, making the length of the southern side of the pool five hundred feet. It 533 534 THE HOJ.Y LAND. contains over one acre, and originally had a depth of eighty feet. It is said by Captain Warren to have a solid cement bot- tom, and openings twenty-live feet from the bottom for emp- tying it, and steps by which the water could he reached through a passage from the Haram plateau. It is now three fourths full of earth and debris from the city. When I visited it several times men and hoj’s were carryhrg dirt in hopper- like ba.'^kets, liung over the hacks of donkeys, and empty- ing it into this interesting 2)Ool. It was probably supplied with water from the Pools of Solomon below Bethlehem by means of an a(iueduct. It is stated by Dr. Ridgeway that a few years ago an English gentleman, Mr. iMaudsley, pro- po.'^ed to clean out and restore the pool at his own exjrense, but the silly, superstitious, dirt-loving Turkish authorities denied him permission to do so. It is highly ])robable that this pool was once a moat as well as pool, protecting the Tower of Antonia, which doubtless stood beside it. The evangelist tells u.s, “There is at .Ieru.«alem b}" the sheep-market a })Ool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having five porches.” (-lohn v. '>.) But we can not with certainty identify this ])ool with that one at which Jesus healed the impotent man -who had an infirmity thirty-eight years. And yet it is possible that it was somewhere near here that this notable miracle was wrought. West of the pool, between the Via Dolorosa and the Haram, is a mass of build- ings occupied as barracks for Turkish soldiers. This is gen- erally conceded to be the site of the “castle,” or Tower of Antonia, in which Paul was confined a prisoner. (Acts xxi. 34; xxii. 24.) Here it is believeil were the Roman head- rpiarters and residence of Pilate at the time of the arrest and trial of our Lord Jcsu.s. On the northern side of the street and at the west end of the Turkish soldiers' quarters is a Roman convent — a Catholic school for girls. It is shown as the tallest building in our illustration to the right of the street. From it is seen extending an arch, called “Pilate’s Arch,” from a tradition that, it was under its span that “Jesus came forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the VIA DOLOROSA. 535 purple robe,’’ while Pilate exclaimed “Acce i/omo ” — ‘‘Behold the man!” (John xix. 5.) The arch has been shown for the last four hundred years, hut its real origin is unknown. This Via Dolorosa is held to he the same street uj) wliich Christ passed from Pilate's judgment-hall to the place of crucifixion; and not less than fourteen sacred places are pointed out, all connected with that sorrowful journey to the cross. There is VIA DOLOROSA, AND ARCH OF PILATE. something deep!}' affecting in all this. Sometimes, however, the thought and the heart are hurled hack as by a tide when it is remembered that this street must be from thirty to fifty feet above the one over which Jesus bore his cross to Calvary, and that traditions have often changed the location of these sacred places. Still, your guide will point out the spot where the cross was taken from Christ's shoulder and placed on 536 THE HOLY LAND. Simon, a C}'renian (Luke xx. 26), the places where Christ fell under the burden of tlie cross the first and also the second time, and the location where other events occurred in the Sav- ior’s path of pain. From the Arch of Pilate the Via Dolorosa descends for a con- siderable distance, crossing the de{)ression or Tyrojieon Valley between Bezetha and Akra. At the lowest point it follows the valley southward' for a short distance, when it angles to the west up Akra, crosses Damascus Street, and continues westward through the city. In this course as it ascends the hill it passes the “Church of the Holy Sepulcher,’’ the tradi- tional site of the crucifixion and burial of our Lortl. The entrance is through an open court on the south, as shown in our illustration on page 538. This court is always occupied by large numbers of persons. Men and women sit all the day with beads, cups, rings, and indeed all kinds of trinkets, made of olive-wood, ivory, peaii, etc., which they sell to vis- itors. Many of these things are of real beauty, and are sold for small sums and taken to all parts of the world. Lieutenant Conder as he approaches a description of this place says, “It is a grim and wicked old building that we now approach. Perhaps no other edifice has been directly the cau.se of more human misery, or defiled with more blood. There are those who would willingly look upon it as the real place of the Savior’s tomb; but I confess that for myself, having twice witnessed the annual orgy which disgraces its walls, the annual imi)osture which is countenanced by its prie.sts, and the fierce emotions of sectarian hate and blind fanaticism which are called forth by the supposed miracle, and remembering the tale of blood connected with the history of the church, I should be loath to think that the sacred tomb had been a witness for so many years of so much human ignorance, folly, and crime.” It is not within the scope of these pages to discuss the ques- tion as to whether or not this incloses the real tomb of Christ. The reader will find on page 519 an allusion to the perplexi- ties of that interesting question. CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHER. 537 The Church of the Holy Sepulcher attracts more visitors than any place in Jerusalem. It occupies the reputed site of the crucifixion of our Lord, and the tomb in which he was buried. The present building, greatly improved and changed, was erected by the Crusaders nearly eight hundred years ago. It is a vast structure, with numerous chapels, which are divided between the Greeks, Latins, and Armenians. The building is an antiquated, orderless structure, about two hun- dred and thirty feet long from east to west and two hundred feet from north to south. Covering the spot v/hich the Chris- tians, at least from the fourth century, recognized as the sepulcher of Christ, it at once becomes, to say the least, ven- erable with hallowed memories. Constantine fixed upon this location, as is well shown by various connecting links of history, down through the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries. The Crusaders erected the present building upon the site of former structures, about A. D. 1100. This building was largely destroyed by fire in A. D. 1808; but the southern portion is believed to be a part of the Crusaders’ structure. Upon entering the sacred place by the large portal from the court, the first object shown is the “Stone of Anointment,” on which it is said the body of Christ was laid when it was anointed by Nicodemus. It is a yellowish marble slab about eight and one half feet long and four feet broad. The stone is flanked by great candles, which reach far toward the roof. Priests and pilgrims kiss the stone in passing. Many of these superstitious persons secure cotton cloth which they touch to the stone, or measure by its size, and carry away to be pre- served for their wdnding-sheet. Passing from this anteroom you enter at once into the rotunda of this strange clump of buildings and are under the great dome, as seen in our splen- did illustration on page 538. The dome is sixty-five feet in diameter. In this chamber, directly under the dome, is the Chapel of the Holy Sepulcher, a structure of white marble, twenty-six feet long, seventeen feet wide, and fifteen feet high, within which is the sepulcher. Our illustration presents it to the eye in a most effective manner. Its walls are elabo- CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHER. 538 THE HOLY SEPULCHER. 539 rutely carved, and all about are lamps of silver and gold kept constantly burning. In front of it are marble candlesticks, in -which huge candles stand in stately order. Passing by those candles, and through the open door, we were in a room sixteen feet long and ten feet wide, called the Chapel of the Angels, be- cause it is said to contain a part of the stone rolled away from the tomb of Christ l>y the heavenly vis- itors. The walls are of marble, and it is liglited by fifteen lamps, five of which l>elong to the Greeks, five to tlie Latins or Catholics, four t<> THE HOLT SEPULCHER. tliG Armenians, and one to the Copts. Through a low door we entered a still smaller room, the Chapel of the Se])ulcher, which is almost square', being six and one half feet by six feet. From the low ceiling forty-three golden lamps are suspended. On the north side is a marble altar, the slab of wliich is said to cover the rock which formed a part of the tomb of the Savior. This altar is about five feet l)y two, and three feet high. This entire cluqiel and the Chapel of the Angels is a structure within the other building. In this little chapel, lighted by golden lani])s, which lend a charm of glory mingled with shadowy gloom, the pilgrim believes that he stands beside the tomb of Christ, as did Mary of old, who wept, saying, “They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where 540 THE HOLY LAND. they have laid him.” (John xx. 13.) As I entered the cham- ber some monks were rising from their knees beside the tomb of Christ. It was with emotions such as I had not before experienced that I stood in that sacred place. All about were superstitious worshipers, who all the time were coming and going, bowing and worshiping in this chamber. They jOf course shared none of my doubts about the genuineness lof this location. They felt possibly none of the oppression of superstition which fills every department of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. They were more devout than it was possible for my undisciplined heart to be. So, with commingled feel- ings of wonder, belief, and love, and mental revolting, I came and went, but with a reverent tread. Upon a second visit to the same spot, as I saw others bowing down before this reputed tomb of Christ, I found my heart overcome, and with the rest I knelt beside the marble altar as one kneels beside the tomb of a loved one dead, but with a heart yearning not for the dead but for the living Christ, knowing that “he is not here: for he is risen” (Matthew xxviii. 6), and “hath ascended on high.” In a room about fifteen feet above the floor-level of the chapel of the tomb are several chapels, reached by steps, which are called Golgotha, or Mount Calvary. The room in the south- eastern part of this structure may be upon a natural rock; but I could not tell. In one of these chapels it is said the cross was rai.sed and Christ crucified. This room is over forty feet long and fourteen and a half feet wide. In one apse of the room is a silver casing around a hole in the rock, which it is asserted is the socket in which the cross of Christ was •fastened. About five feet distant are shown the places where the crosses of the two thieves were erected. Near by is shown a rock with a long rent in it, said to have been occasioned by the earthquake at the time of the crucifixion of Christ. (John xvii. 51.) This rent is said to penetrate to the center of the earth. There are numerous other chapels in the building, each one being dedicated to some event connected with our Lord’s crucifixion or with the memory and burial of some TOMB OF ADAM. 541 illustrious saint. Far below the level of the rotunda, six- teen feet below the level of the sepulcher, is the Chapel of St. Helena, sixty-five by forty-two feet. Thirteen steps below it is the Chapel of the “Finding of the Cross,” a cavern in the solid rock, about twenty-four feet square and sixteen feet to the ceiling, where it is asserted Helena found the identical cross of Christ. In this chamber is a bronze statue of St. He- lena, life-size, holding up the new-found cross. I can not take the reader from one cha])el to another with- out introducing him to sirperstition in its most glaring incon- sistencies. In one chapel is shown the column to which the Savior was chained before his crucifixion. Through an open- ing you can look in and see it. I saw a number of pilgrims take a stick kept there for the purpose, and jmt it in tlie oj>ening until tlie end of the stick touched the |)illar, and then draw the stick out and kiss it with holy reverence where it had touched the stone. It is of a grajdsh color, and over a foot in diameter, and much resembles a stone said to be a part of the same column in a small Greek church in Constantino- ple, which I was there allowed to examine more thoroughly. There are reliefs in the marble and jnctures in the various chapels and parts of the church, which are the purchase of the wealth of popes, bishops, and kings. The chapel under the dome is surrounded with chapcds built to the honor of many saints. Here are the tombs of Adam, and of number- less saints and holy men. With utter disregard to all history and fact, they have filled this Church of the Holy Sepulcher with all manner of traditions and superstitions which out- herod Herod. I spent much time here, and all with deep interest, often made to lament that these people have even eclipsed the Mohammedans with their many superstitious, impossible stories. And yet withal it is a sacred place. In this church is annually enacted one of the most disgrace- ful farces and frauds ever practiced in the name of religion. It occurs at the Easter season, when thousands of pilgrims from Russia and other places are in the Holy City. Lieuten- ant Conder, who twice witnessed this ceremony of fire de- 542 THE HOLY LAND. scending from heaven, describes it in a most graphic manner. From his thrilling account I gather a few facts. The day before the so-called “ Holy Fire” the rotunda about the Chapel of the Angels and Tomb of Christ is crowded for many hours by infatuated pilgrims. Here they join in chants, thronging the entire church by thousands, until the Greek patriarch, who is concealed within the Chapel of the Angels, passes out to the throng a' blazing torch, jnst lighted with fire caught from heaven. The throng light their tapers, providetl for the occasion, from this lighted torch and thrust their hands into the flame of the tapers and scorch their heads and burn their clothing, under the sup])usition that it will be the occasion of great good to them. This practice has been kept up for the last six hundred years, though the Catholics abandoned their part in the superstitious fraud two centuries ago. It is said that as many as twenty thousand pilgrims visit the city at this season, ten thousand of whom crowd into the dittei’ent parts of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. A little Ava}' south-west from the Church of the Holy Sepul- cher, and a little Avay north of David Street, running east from the Joppa Gate, is the Pool of Hezekiah, incased between the Avails of the Copt convent and Avails of houses, Avhich almost surround it. It is tAvo hundred and forty feet long, one hundred and forty-four Avide, and ten feet deep below the level of the street. Its Avater is not much used excejfl for bath- ing purj)oses. An acjueduct from the upper Pool of Gibon (see page 505) supplies this pool, long named after Hezekiah from the belief that it is to this pool that reference is made in the Avords, “he made a pool, and a conduit, and brought water into the city.” (II. Kings xx. 20.) We are told that “ Heze- kiah also stopped the, upper course of Gihon, and brought it straight doAvn to the Avest side of the city of David.” (II. Chronicles xxxii. 30.) Passing southAvard along Christian Street, we go through Zion Gate at the highest point of the Avail crossing Mount Zion. On the outside a short distance is the Armenian mon- astery of Mount Zion, Avhich they claim covers the site of the TOMB OF DA VID. 543 house of Caiaphas. Here several curious things are shown, including the place where Peter denied his Lord and a stone containing the marks of the feet of the cock that crew, and other curious superstitions, with which the reader need not he taxed. Southward a little way farther is the Caenanilum, the Place of the Last Supper, but by the Mohammedans called Neby Dnud — Tomb of David. Close bj' is the chamber dedicated to the last supper, anU in which for a few juasteis we were shown the room where the table of the last sixpper was placed. We were then conducted up a flight of stejis to a large room, through the latticed door of which is seen the sar- cophagus of David. The tomb is about twelve feet long and five feet high, .shaped like a coffin, and closely guarded by the Mohammedans. It is asserted that tliis tomb is a co]>y of the real tomb, Avhich is below in a cavern in the rock. The daughter of Dr. Barclay di.sguised lun’self in Turkish clothes, and through the female members of the family of the keeper of the place got into the tomb below and took a correct draw- ing. It is thought that the building dates back to the period of the Crusaders ; but whether it is indeed the tomb of David it is impossible to tell. We are told that “David slei>t with his fathers, and wnis buried in the city of David.” (I. Kings ii. 10.) This was no doubt in a prepared tomb in that part of •lerusalem built upon Zion. This tomb became the receptacle of the bodies of many of the kings and mighty men of Israel, who were “buried with their fathers;” that is, in the city of David. This place of burial, embracing the tomb of David, was no doubt well known for over a thousand years, at least. Peter in his address on the da}"^ of Pentecost says, “ Let me freely speak unto you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried; and his sepulcher is with us unto this day.” (Acts ii. 29.) Returning from these walks, we may enter again the Zion Gate and follow Christian' Street westward to the place where it intersects David Street, then, turning to the right, pass to the east until the foot of the hill is reached, where Damascus Street from the north may be entered and the Damascus 544 THE HOLY LAND. Hotel reached. If one is not weary he may find it interesting to return on the west side of the city and enter at the Yaffo Gate. Doing so I had a good view of the people coming to market from Bethlehem, who enter the city at this gate, on account of which it is sometimes called the Bethlehem Gate. With this a distressing scene met my eyes. Here were more than a score of lepers crowding about the gate, whining, cry- ing, and begging for back-Aiiish. (See page 425.) I was quite glad to hasten down David Street and make another brief visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Thus the days of my sojourn in the Holy City passed quite too quickly. One day I visited a large Jewish synagogue, of which there are four or five in Jerusalem. Two of these attract attention. The largest one, a great sc^uare structure crowned with plas- tered dome.s of masonry, is situated upon the higlier part of Zion. Passing up a number of steps and through a some- what intricate way we w<^re usliered into a pleasant chamber, provided with seats for all and elevated seats for instructors. Here a number of tall old men, with venerable beards, wear- ing lieavy black gowns down to the feet and curiously-shaped black hats, were passing to and fro, while .‘^ome were engaged in study. 1 was invited to a comfortable seat beside a rabbi, who showed me evident signs and tokens of friendship. In the midst of these he drew from his pocket a plug of tobacco and most kindly tendered it. With such gestures and pleas- ing smiles as I could command, his well-meant proffer of kindness was declined; and I soon withdrew from the syn- agogue. The sojourner in Jerusalem will often have occasion to visit the bazaars, where all kinds of goods are sold. These do not materially differ in their general features from the bazaars ot Damascus and Constantinople (see pages 241 and 316), though they are not nearly so large or interesting. I was much interested in the partially-excavated ruins of the hospital of the Knights of St. John, a benevolent order which rose among the Crusaders about the middle of the elev- enth century. The object of the order was to sustain pilgrims HOSPITAL OF ST. JOHN. 545 to the Holy Laud ; and here not tar from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher they built a hospital for the benefit of pil- grims, and dedicated it to the memory of St. John, a Greek, who in the seventh century had been patriarch at Alexandria. The order finally took the form of a military organization, which has almost become extinct, a mere shadow of it exist- ing only in Russia. This hospital, the ruins of which are of vast extent, shows that the contributions from Europe must have given it.no inconsiderable wealth and power. LADY BIDING A DONKEY. Day after day I wandered up and down and through these winding streets, and trod among these awful associations of the long-past ages. Outside the walls, u])on the walls, through the winding, narrow, dirty streets, I hunted my way, some- 35 546 THE HOLY LAND. times almost bewildered with the profound and solemn sensa- tions of reverence and awe which come to one as he stands face to face with the mountains of God— sometimes sorrowful and weeping at the remembrance of the sad history which followed the illustrious days of Jerusalem; sometimes filled with j)ity for the poor jDeojfie who live here, desecrating this sacred soil with their low and bestial lives. Now and then among the motley throng of men on foot and on donkey's, loaded camels, and women trudging along the streets with their dirty children, a richly-dressed, closely- veiled lady might be seen riding on a donkey, while one or two stout Arabs attended her. When needing a gold coin changed into the money of the country, I found it very necessary to have the assistance of a guide who understood the busiiujss. The money-changers sit along the streets in great numbers, and can easily be found. One of them Avill count you out ‘‘good money” in silver coin in exchange for French or English gold; but at the next bazaar or place of the “money-changers” you will learn that one third or one half of it is in coin Avhich is not in circula- tion at all, or is taken at enormous discount. I soon learned, however, the coins which were useless. Coming out of my room in the hotel one day, and stand- ing in the upper court, from which a splendid view of the mount of Olives lay before the eye, my attention was sud- denly attracted by a great noise of voices in the street just beloAv me. Walking to the balustrade, I looked down into Damascus Street and saw tAVO men engaged in a terrible braAA’l. I could not learn the cause of it. Angry looks, ter- rific gestures, and boisterous words, all indescribable, con- tinued for a long time. By and by one of the men determined to settle the difficulty. He made repeated efforts to kiss his enemy, but fiiiled. At last he caught hold of the other man's head and held it fast until he could give him a good solid kiss. Quick as thought all Avas over, and one passed one Avay and the other in the opposite direction, again and again re- turning kindly salutations as they parted. CHAPTER XXVI. Land of Abialiam — Sight of Bethlehem Fields — Tomb of Kaehel — Giloh — Pools of Solomon — Tekoa — Mountain of Paradise — Cave of Adiillam -Russian Pilgrims — Abraham’s Oak — Plain of Mamre — Hebron — Cave of Machpelah — Pool of Hebron — Bethlehem— Church of the Xativit3'— Well of David — Birth of Christ — Lights of Zion. ^^I|X Friday morning, Xovember 18th, quite before da}'- 1= light. Dr. Thompson, Dr. Fry, and the Avriter Avere in the saddle, headed by our faithful guide Joseph. Om' pni’po.se Avas to go soutlnvard, at least as far as to ■^jb Hebron, the land of Abraham, and to see the home I Avhere he dAvelt for so long a time, and Avhere he bought of the sons of Heth the field of Ephron, Avhich Avas in Mach- lielah, Avhich Avas before Mamre, even the cave of Machpelah in AA'hich Sarah Avas buried and Avhich afterward became the receptacle of Abraham, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Leah, .Avhen their earthly pilgrimage Avas over. We rode sloAvIy tiirough Damascus Street, passed out the Da- mascus Gate, around the north-Avest corner of Jerusalem, and across the Valley of Hinnom, AA’ith the Hill of Evil Counsel, in its dark outlines, to our left, and hurried soutlnvard toAvard Bethlehem. Soon Ave crossed the Plain of RejAhaim, Avhere David tAvice encountered the Philistines in battle after his possession of Jerusalem. (II. Samuel v. 18-25.) It Avas also called the Valley of the Giants. (Joshua xv. 8.) The plain is about two miles in length. For three or four miles Ave had a good road, and our horses made fine speed. The sun Avas just beginning to shoAv its broad, shining face above Beth- lehem, when Ave Avere in full sight of the town. It rose just above the white houses of the birthplace of our Savior, and 547 548 THE HOLY LAND. over the stony fields where once Ruth, the youthful widow, went out into the fields of Boaz to glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves, and from which at e^en-time she carried into Bethlehem to her mother-in-law her epha of Barley. iMore than three thousand years ago sorrowful Ruth came down these same hills, as the sun was rising, every morning all the days of the harley-harvest and the wheat- harvest. Thirteen hundred years later Mary came here on this same highway to Become the mother of our Blessed Lord. But here now are great caravans of camels and donkeys loaded with Bundles of brush for fuel, coal, and other things which they are carrying to .Jerusalem to the market. Instead of entering into Bethlehem we turned to the light and i>assed southward toward Hebron. M e had now come six miles ; hut it is yet fourteen or fifteen miles to Hebron. To our right, and close to the road, is the tomb of the be- loved Rachel. It is a small stone structure of modern date, t h o u g h this site has been held for many centuries as the place where ---- - -v— Rachel. Chris- tomb of rachel. dans, Mohammedans, and Jews all unite in holding this as the tomb of the mother of Joseph. There comes a strange sad- ness to one as he stands by the Tomb of Rachel hers the sorrow of her untimely death and reads, “ And Rachel died, and was buried in the way of Ephrath, which is Bethle- hem. And Jacob set a pillar upon her grave : that is the pi lar of Rachel’s grave unto this day.” (Genesis xxxv. 19, •) POOLS OF SOLOMON. 549 Thus in the time of Moses, nearly tliree hundred years after her burial, her tomb uas well known. Of course that pillar has perished long ago, but other .'Structures have peri)ctuated the same sad memories upon the same lonely spot. Is it not strange that the beautiful and most loved and unfortunate Rachel was made to sleep here alone, while Leah was buried in the cave of Machpelah, to which years afterward the body of Jacob was borne from far-off Egy]jt? As we continue our journey along the slojjc of the valley, far over to the right are splendid olive-orchards, and be^'ond the pretty-looking town occupying the site of ancient Giloh, the home of Ahithophel, the friend of the counselor of David who went over to Absalom. (II. Samuel xv. 12, xvi. 23.) Soon the road becomes exceedingly rough ; and we were jolted severely, for we pushed our horses quite out of their usual gait. We turned aside for a while to examine the Pools of Solo- mon, as they are called, situated ai>out two miles south-west FOOLS OP SOLOMON. of Bethlehem, close by the road leading to Hebron. There are three of these pools in the same deep valley. At each pool a wall is built across the valley, and the pools are walled up well and strong on all sides. They are partly hewed out of •5-50 THE HOLY LAND. t^olid rock. They are ahout fifty yards from each other. The upi)er one is three hundred and ei"litv-one feet lon» two hundred and eighteen feet wide, and twenty-five feet deep. The middle pool is somewhat larger, while the lower one is not less than five hundred and ninetv-two feet lono- over one hundred and fifty feet wide, and nearly fifty feet deep. Our illustration gives a good view of these pools, and also the large square castle-like structure to the left, or at the north-west corner of the ujiper ])ool, which is used as a khan and barracks for Turkish soldiers. The.«e pools are sui)plied from springs and wells, and were no doubt intended also to catch the rain-fall. They supplied, anciently as they do now, ])ortions of Jerusalem Avith water, carried by acjue- ducts. Solomon says, “ I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted trees in them of all kind of fruits: I made me pools of Avater, to Avater therewith the AAood that bringeth forth tree.«.” (Ecclesiastes ii. o, 6.) The.