A Trip Abroad by Don Carlos JanesAn account of a journey to the earthly Canaan and the land of the ancient Pharaohs

Distributed Proofreaders A TRIP ABROAD An Account of a Journey to the Earthly Canaan and the Land of the Ancient Pharaohs To Which Are Appended A Brief Consideration of the Geography and History of Palestine, and a Chapter on Churches of Christ in Great Britain BY DON CARLOS JANES 1905 _”Go, little booke, God send
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A TRIP ABROAD

An Account of a Journey to the Earthly Canaan and the Land of the Ancient Pharaohs

To Which Are Appended

A Brief Consideration of the Geography and History of Palestine, and a Chapter on Churches of Christ in Great Britain

BY

DON CARLOS JANES

1905

[Illustration: “Striving for the Faith of the Gospel.” Don Carlos Janes.]

_”Go, little booke, God send thee good passage, And specially let this be thy prayere:
Unto them all that will thee read or hear, Where thou art wrong, after their help to call, Thee to correct in any part or all.”_

CHAUCER.

PREFACE.

In this volume the author has made an effort to describe his journey to Palestine and Egypt. It is his desire that the book may be interesting and instructive to its readers. The chapter on the geography of Palestine, if studied with a good map, will probably be helpful to many. The historic sketch of the land may serve as an outline of the important events in the history of that interesting country. It is desired that the last chapter may give American readers a better understanding of the work of churches of Christ in Great Britain.

This book is not a classic, but the author has tried to give a truthful account of a trip, which, to him, was full of interest and not without profit. No doubt some errors will be found, but even the critical reader may make some allowance when it is known that the writing, with the exception of a small part, was done in a period of eighty days. During this time, the writer was also engaged in evangelistic work, speaking every day without a single exception, and as often as four times on some of the days. That the careful reading of the following pages may be profitable, is the desire of THE AUTHOR.

BOWLING GREEN, KY., October 21, 1905.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.

Several books have been consulted in preparing this one. “Lands of the Bible,” by J.W. McGarvey, has been very helpful. The same is true of Edmund Sherman Wallace’s “Jerusalem the Holy.” Much information has been obtained from the “Historical Geography of Bible Lands,” by John B. Calkin. Other works consulted were: “Recent Discoveries on the Temple Hill,” by James King; the “Bible Atlas,” by Jesse L. Hurlbut; “Galilee in the Time of Christ,” by Selah Merrill; “City of the Great King,” by J.T. Barclay; “Palestine,” by C.R. Conder; Smith’s “Bible Dictionary”; “Century Dictionary and Cyclopaedia”; “Columbian Encyclopaedia,” and “Encyclopaedia Britannica.”

The chapter on Churches of Christ in Great Britain and Ireland was read before publication by Bro. Ivie Campbell, Jr., of Kirkcaldy, Scotland, who made some suggestions for its improvement. Bro. J.W. McGarvey, of Lexington, Ky., kindly read the chapters on the Geography and History of Palestine, and made some corrections. Selah Merrill, United States Consul at Jerusalem, has given some information embodied in the Historic Sketch of Palestine. Acknowledgement of the helpful services of my wife, and of Miss Delia Boyd, of Atpontley, Tenn., is hereby made.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND

CHAPTER II.
CROSSING EUROPE

CHAPTER III.
ASIA MINOR AND SYRIA

CHAPTER IV.
A FEW DAYS IN GALILEE

CHAPTER V.
SIGHT-SEEING IN JERUSALEM

CHAPTER VI.
SIDE TRIPS FROM JERUSALEM

CHAPTER VII.
EGYPT, THE LAND OF TOMBS AND TEMPLES

CHAPTER VIII.
GEOGRAPHY OF PALESTINE

CHAPTER IX.
HISTORIC SKETCH OF PALESTINE

CHAPTER X.
CHURCHES OF CHRIST IN GREAT BRITAIN

CHAPTER I.

SCOTLAND AND ENGLAND.

When I was a “boy on a farm,” one of my school teachers had a small machine, which was sometimes used to print the names of students in their books. Somehow I came to want a “printing press,” and after a while I purchased an outfit for fifteen cents, but it was a poor thing and failed to satisfy me. Accordingly, I disposed of it and spent a larger sum for a typewriter, which was little more than a toy. This, too, was unsatisfactory, and I sold it. At a later date, I bought a second-hand typewriter, which was turned in as part payment for the machine I am now using to write this book, and now, after all these successive steps, I find myself possessed of a real typewriter. I will also mention my youthful desire for a watch. I wanted a timepiece and thought I would like for it to be of small size. I thought of it when awake, and, sometimes, when asleep, dreamed that I actually had the little watch in my possession. Since those days of dreams and disappointments, I have had three watches, and they have all been of small size.

In the same way, several years ago, I became possessed of a desire to see the Land of Promise, the earthly Canaan. I thought about it some, and occasionally spoke of it. There were seasons when the desire left me, but it would come back again. Some years ago, when I was doing evangelistic work in Canada, the desire returned–this time to stay. It grew stronger and stronger until I decided to make the trip, which was begun on the eleventh of July, 1904. After traveling many thousands of miles, seeing numerous new and interesting sights, making many pleasant acquaintances, and having a variety of experiences, I returned to the home of my father on the fourteenth day of December, having been absent five months and three days, and having had a more extensive trip than I had at first thought of taking. There is a lesson in the foregoing that I do not want overlooked. It is this: Whatever we earnestly desire is apt to be worked out in our lives. Deeds usually begin with thoughts. If the thoughts are fostered and cultivated, the deeds will probably be performed some time. It is, therefore, important that we exercise care as to the kind of thoughts we allow to remain in our hearts. “Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life” (Prov. iv. 23).

On the way to New York, I stopped in Washington and saw some of the interesting places of the National Capital. The Bureau of Engraving and Printing, where about six hundred persons were engaged in printing paper money and stamps, was visited. I also went out to the Washington Monument and climbed to the top of the winding stairs, although I might have gone up in the free elevator if I had preferred to ride. The Medical Museum, National Museum, Treasury Building, the White House, the Capitol, and other points of interest received attention, and my short stay in this city was very enjoyable.

I spent a night in Philadelphia, after an absence of more than four years, and enjoyed a meeting with the church worshiping on Forty-sixth Street. It was very pleasant to meet those I had known when I was there before, some of whom I had been instrumental in bringing to Christ. In New York I made arrangements to sail for Glasgow on the S.S. Mongolian, of the Allan Line, which was to sail at eleven o’clock on the fourteenth of July, and the voyage was begun almost as promptly as a railway train leaves the depot. We passed the Statue of Liberty a few minutes before noon, and then I prepared some mail to be sent back by the pilot who took us down to the sea. The water was smooth almost all the way across, and we reached the desired haven on the eleventh day. I went back to my room the first morning after breakfast and was lying in my berth when a gentleman came along and told me I would have to get up, they were going to have _inspection_. I arose and found part of the crew scrubbing the floor and others washing down a wall. Everything was being put in good condition for the examination to be given by some of the officers who passed through each day at about ten o’clock. The seamen knew the inspection was sure to come, and they knew the hour at which it would take place, so they made ready for it. We know that there is a great “inspection” day appointed when God will judge the world, but we do not know the exact time. It is, therefore, important to be ready always, that the day may not overtake us “as a thief in the night.”

Religious services were held on the ship each Lord’s day, but I missed the last meeting. On the first Sunday morning I arose as usual and ate breakfast. As there was no opportunity to meet with brethren and break bread in memory of the Lord Jesus, I read the account of the giving of the Lord’s Supper as recorded in Matthew, Mark, and John; also Paul’s language concerning the institution in the eleventh chapter of the first Corinthian letter, and was thankful that my life had been spared until another beautiful resurrection morning. At half past ten o’clock I went into one of the dining rooms where two ministers were conducting a meeting. The order of the service, as nearly as I can give it, was as follows: Responsive reading of the twenty-third and twenty-fourth Psalms; prayer; the hymn, “Onward, Christian Soldiers”; reading of the twenty-ninth Psalm; prayer; the hymn, “Lead, Kindly Light”; an address on “Knowing God”; prayer; the collection, taken while singing; and the benediction. The ship furnished Bibles and hymn-books. A large copy of the Bible was placed upon a British flag at the head of one of the tables where the speaker stood, but he read from the American Revised Version of the Scriptures. The sermon was commenced by some remarks to the effect that man is hard to please. Nothing earthly satisfies him, but Thomas expressed the correct idea when he said: “Show us the Father and it sufficeth us.” The minister then went on to speak of God as “the God of patience,” “the God of comfort,” “the God of hope,” and “the God of peace.” It was, with some exceptions, a pleasing and uplifting address. There were about thirty persons in attendance, and the collection was for the Sailors’ Orphans’ Home in Scotland. The following is one verse of the closing hymn:

“A few more years shall roll,
A few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those that rest, Asleep within the tomb;
Then, oh, my Lord, prepare
My soul for that great day,
Oh, wash me in thy precious blood
And take my sins away.”

Before the close of the day, I read the whole of Mark’s record of the life of our Savior and turned my Bible over to Gus, the steward. We had food served four times, as usual. The sea was smooth and the day passed quietly. A Catholic gentleman said something at breakfast about “saying a few prayers” to himself, and I heard a woman, in speaking about going to church, say she had beads and a prayer-book with her. Later in the day I saw her out on the deck with a novel, and what I supposed to be the prayer-book, but she was reading the novel.

Several of the passengers had reading matter with them. Some read novels, but my Book was far better than any of these. It has a greater Author, a wider range of history, more righteous laws, purer morals, and more beautiful description than theirs. It contains a longer and better love story than theirs, and reveals a much grander Hero. The Bible both moralizes and Christianizes those who permit its holy influence to move them to loving obedience of the Lord Jesus. It can fill its thoughtful reader with holy hope and lead him into the realization of that hope. It is a Book adapted to all men everywhere, and the more carefully it is read the greater the interest in it and the profit from it become. It is the volume that teaches us how to live here that we may live hereafter, and in the dying hour no one will regret having been a diligent student of its matchless pages of divine truth and wisdom.

The last Lord’s day of the voyage the ship reached Moville, Ireland, where a small vessel came out and took off the passengers for Londonderry. The tilled land, visible from the ship, reminded me of a large garden. Some time that night we anchored in the harbor at Greenock, near the mouth of the River Clyde. About one o’clock the second steward came in, calling out: “Janes!” I answered from my berth and heard him call out: “Don Carlos Janes!” Again I answered and learned that he had some mail for me. I told him to hand it in, not remembering that the door was locked, but that made no difference, for he handed it in anyhow, but the locking arrangement on that door needed repairing after he went away. I arose and examined the two pieces of mail, which were from friends, giving me directions as to where I should go when the ship got up to Glasgow, twenty-two miles from the sea. There was but one case of sea sickness reported on the whole voyage. There was one death, but the corpse was carried into port instead of being buried at sea.

The home of Brother and Sister Henry Nelmes, which was my home while I staid in Glasgow, is nicely located. Brother Nelmes and his wife are excellent people, and treated me with much kindness. Glasgow is a large and important city, with many interesting places in it. The Municipal Building with its marble stairs, alabaster balustrade, onyx columns, and other ornamentation, is attractive on the inside, but the exterior impressed me more with the idea of stability than of beauty. The old Cathedral, which I visited twice, is in an excellent state of preservation, although founded in the eleventh century. There is an extensive burial ground adjoining the Cathedral, and one of the prominent monuments is at the grave of John Knox, the reformer. These impressive words, written from memory, were spoken by the Regent at the burial of Knox, and have been carved upon his monument: “Here lieth he who never feared the face of man, who was often threatened with dag and dagger, yet hath ended his days in peace and honor.” Carlyle spoke of him as a man “fearing God, without any other fear.”

One day I visited the birth-place of Robert Burns, at Ayr, a point not far from Glasgow. I not only saw the “lowly thatched cottage,” but a monument to the poet, “Auld Kirk Alloway,” the “brig o’ Doon,” and many interesting articles in the museum. When the street car came to a standstill, I had the old church and cemetery on my right hand, and the monument on my left hand, while a man was standing in the road, ahead of us, blowing a cornet,–and just beyond was the new bridge over the Doon, a short distance below the old one, which is well preserved and profusely decorated with the initials of many visitors. Along the bank of “bonny Doon” lies a little garden, on the corner of which is situated a house where liquor is sold, if I mistake not. It was before this house that I saw the musician already mentioned. As I came up from the old “brig o’ Doon,” I saw and heard a man playing a violin near the monument. When I went down the road toward the new bridge and looked over into the garden, I saw a couple of persons executing a cake-walk, and an old man with one leg off was in the cemetery that surrounds the ruined church, reciting selections from Burns. Such is the picture I beheld when I visited this Ayrshire monument, raised in memory of the sympathetic but unfortunate Scottish poet, whose “spark o’ nature’s fire” has touched so many hearts that his birth-place has more visitors per annum than Shakespeare’s has.

On the following day I had a pleasant boat-ride up Loch (Lake) Long, followed by a merry coach-ride across to the “bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond,” which is celebrated in song and story. It is twenty-two miles in length and from three-quarters of a mile to five miles wide, and is called the “Queen of Scottish lakes.” Ben Lomond, a mountain rising to a height of more than three thousand feet, stands on the shore, and it is said that Robert Bruce, the hero of Bannockburn, once hid himself in a cave in this mountain. A pleasant boat-ride down the lake brought me back to Glasgow in time to attend a meeting of the brethren in Coplaw Street that night.

Leaving my true friends who had so kindly entertained me in Glasgow, I proceeded to Edinburgh, the city where Robert Burns came into prominence. In the large Waverley Station a stranger, who knew of my coming through word from Brother Ivie Campbell, of Kirkcaldy, stopped me and asked: “Is your name Don Carlos Janes?” It was another good friend, Brother J.W. Murray. He said he told some one he was looking for me, and was told, in return, that he would not be able to find me. His answer to this was that he had picked out a man before, and he might pick out another one; and so he did, without any difficulty. After a little time spent in Waverley gardens, I ascended the Walter Scott Monument, which is two hundred feet high. The winding stairway is rather narrow, especially at the top, and it is not well lighted. As I was coming down the stairs, I met a lady and gentleman. The little woman was not at all enthusiastic over the experience she was having, and, without knowing of my presence, she was wondering what they would do if they were to meet any one. “Come on up and see,” I said, and we passed without any special difficulty, but she said she didn’t believe “two stout ones could” pass. As she went on up the winding way, she was heard expressing herself in these words: “Oh, it is a place, isn’t it? I don’t like it.” The tourist finds many “places”, and they are not all desirable. Princess Street, on which the monument is located, is the prettiest street that I have ever seen. One side is occupied by business houses and hotels, the other is a beautiful garden, where one may walk or sit down, surrounded by green grass and beautiful flowers.

Edinburgh Castle is an old fortification on the summit of a lofty hill overlooking the city. It is now used as barracks for soldiers, and is capable of accommodating twelve hundred men. Queen Mary’s room is a small chamber, where her son, James the First of Scotland and the Sixth of England, was born. I was in the old castle in Glasgow where she spent the night before the Battle of Langside, and later stood by her tomb in Westminster Abbey. Her history, a brief sketch of which is given here, is interesting and pathetic. “Mary Queen of Scots was born in Linlithgow Palace, 1542; fatherless at seven days old; became Queen December 8th, 1542, and was crowned at Stirling, September 9th, 1543; carried to France, 1548; married to the Dauphin, 1558; became Queen of France, 1559; a widow, 1560; returned to Scotland, 1561; married Lord Darnley, 1565; her son (and successor), James VI., born at Edinburgh Castle, 1566; Lord Darnley murdered, February, 1567; Mary married to the Earl of Bothwell, May, 1567, and was compelled to abdicate in favor of her infant son. She escaped from Lochleven Castle, lost the Battle of Langside, and fled to England, 1568. She was beheaded February 8th, 1587, at Fotheringay Castle, in the forty-fifth year of her age, almost nineteen years of which she passed in captivity.

“Puir Mary was born and was cradled in tears, Grief cam’ wi’ her birth, and grief grew wi’ her years.”

In the crown-room are to be seen the regalia of Scotland, consisting of the crown, scepter, sword of state, a silver rod of office, and other jewels, all enclosed in a glass case surrounded by iron work. St. Margaret’s Chapel, seventeen feet long and eleven feet wide, stands within the castle enclosure and is the oldest building in the city. A very old cannon, called Mons Meg, was brought back to the castle through the efforts of Walter Scott, and is now on exhibition. I visited the Hall of Statuary in the National Gallery, the Royal Blind Asylum, passed St. Giles Cathedral, where John Knox preached, dined with Brother Murray, and boarded the train for Kirkcaldy, where I as easily found Brother Campbell at the station as Brother Murray had found me in Edinburgh.

I had been in correspondence with Brother Campbell for some years, and our meeting was a pleasure, and my stay at Kirkcaldy was very enjoyable. We went up to St. Andrews, and visited the ruins of the old Cathedral, the University, a monument to certain martyrs, and the home of a sister in Christ. But little of the Cathedral remains to be seen. It was founded in 1159, and was the most magnificent of Scottish churches. St. Rule’s Tower, one hundred and ten feet high, still stands, and we had a fine view from the top. The time to leave Kirkcaldy came too soon, but I moved on toward Wigan, England, to attend the annual meeting of churches of Christ. Brother Campbell accompanied me as far as Edinburgh, and I then proceeded to Melrose, where I stopped off and visited Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott. It is situated on the River Tweed, a short distance from Melrose, and was founded in 1811. By the expenditure of a considerable sum of money it was made to present such an appearance as to be called “a romance in stone and lime.” Part of this large house is occupied as a dwelling, but some of the rooms are kept open for the numerous visitors who call from time to time. The young lady who was guide the day I was at Abbotsford, first showed us Sir Walter’s study. It is a small room, with book shelves from the floor to the ceiling, the desk on which Scott wrote his novels sitting in the middle of the floor. A writing-box, made of wood taken from one of the ships of the Spanish Armada, sits on the desk, and the clothes worn by the great novelist a short time before his death are kept under glass in a case by the window, while a cast of his face is to be seen in a small room adjoining the study. We next passed into the library, which, with the books in the study, contains about twenty thousand volumes. In the armory are numerous guns, pistols, swords, and other relics. There is some fine furniture in one of the rooms, and the walls are covered with paper printed by hand in China nearly ninety years ago. Perhaps some who read these lines will recall the sad story of Genivra, who hid herself in an oaken chest in an attic, and perished there, being imprisoned by the spring lock. This oaken chest was received at Abbotsford a short time before Scott’s death, and is now on exhibition. Sir Walter, as the guide repeatedly called him, spent the last years of his life under the burden of a heavy debt, but instead of making use of the bankrupt law, he set to work heroically with his pen to clear up the indebtedness. He wrote rapidly, and his books sold well, but he was one day compelled to lay down his pen before the task was done. The King of England gave him a trip to the Mediterranean, for the benefit of his health, but it was of no avail. Sir Walter returned to his home on the bank of the Tweed, and died September twenty-first, 1832. In his last illness, this great author, who had produced so many volumes that were being read then and are still being read, asked his son-in-law to read to him. The son-in-law asked what book he should read, to which Sir Walter replied: “Book? There is but one Book! Read me the Bible.” In Melrose I visited the ruins of the Abbey, and then went on to Wigan.

After the annual meeting, I went to Birmingham and stayed a short while. From here I made a little journey to the birth-place of Shakespeare, at Stratford-on-Avon, a small, quiet town, where, to the best of my recollection, I saw neither street cars nor omnibuses. After being in several large cities, it was an agreeable change to spend a day in this quiet place, where the greatest writer in the English tongue spent his boyhood and the last days of his life on earth. The house where he was born was first visited. A fee of sixpence (about twelve cents) secures admission, but another sixpence is required if the library and museum are visited. The house stands as it was in the poet’s early days, with a few exceptions. Since that time, however, part of it has been used as a meat market and part as an inn. In 1847, the property was announced for sale, and it fell into the hands of persons who restored it as nearly as possible to its original condition.

It has two stories and an attic, with three gables in the roof facing the street. At the left of the door by which the tourist is admitted, is a portion of the house where the valuable documents of the corporation are stored, while to the right are the rooms formerly used as the “Swan and Maidenhead Inn,” now converted into a library and museum. The windows in the upstairs room where the poet was born are fully occupied with the autographs of visitors who have scratched their names there. I was told that the glass is now valuable simply as old glass, and of course the autographs enhance the value. The names of Scott and Carlyle are pointed out by the attendant in charge. From a back window one can look down into the garden, where, as far as possible, all the trees and flowers mentioned in Shakespeare’s works have been planted. For some years past the average number of visitors to this house has been seven thousand a year. The poet’s grave is in Trinity Church, at Stratford, beneath a stone slab in the floor bearing these lines:

“Good friend, for Jesus’ sake, forbear To digg the dust enclosed here.
Blest be ye man y spares these stones, And curst be he ty moves my bones.”

On the wall, just at hand, is a bust made from a cast taken after his death. Near by is a stained-glass window with the inscription, “America’s gift to Shakespeare’s church,” and not far away is a card above a collection-box with an inscription which informs “visitors from U.S.A.” that there is yet due on the window more than three hundred dollars. The original cost was about two thousand five hundred dollars. The Shakespeare Memorial is a small theater by the side of the Avon, with a library and picture gallery attached. The first stone was laid in 1877, and the building was opened in 1879 with a performance of “Much Ado About Nothing.” The old school once attended by the poet still stands, and is in use, as is also the cottage of Anne Hathaway, situated a short distance from Stratford. I returned to Birmingham, and soon went on to Bristol and saw the orphans’ homes founded by George Muller.

These homes, capable of accommodating two thousand and fifty orphans, are beautifully situated on Ashley Downs. Brother William Kempster and I visited them together, and were shown through a portion of one of the five large buildings by an elderly gentleman, neat, clean, and humble, who was sent down by the manager of the institution, a son-in-law of Mr. Muller, who died in 1898, at the advanced age of ninety-three years. We saw one of the dormitories, which was plainly furnished, but everything was neat and clean. We were also shown two dining-rooms, and the library-room in which Mr. Muller conducted a prayer-meeting only a night or two before his death. In this room we saw a fine, large picture of the deceased, and were told by the “helper” who was showing us around that Mr. Muller was accustomed to saying: “Oh, I am such a happy man!” The expression on his face in this picture is quite in harmony with his words just quoted. One of his sayings was: “When anxiety begins, faith ends; when faith begins, anxiety ends.”

Mr. Muller spent seventy years of his life in England and became so thoroughly Anglicized that he wished his name pronounced “Miller.” He was the founder of the “Scriptural Knowledge Institution for Home and Abroad” and was a man of much more than ordinary faith. His work began about 1834, with the distribution of literature, and the orphan work, if I mistake not, was begun two years later. “As the result of prayer to God” more than five millions of dollars have been applied for the benefit of the orphans. He never asked help of man, but made his wants known to God, and those who are now carrying on the work pursue the same course, but the collection-boxes put up where visitors can see them might be considered by some as an invitation to give. The following quotation from the founder of the orphanages will give some idea of the kind of man he was. “In carrying on this work simply through the instrumentality of prayer and faith, without applying to any human being for help, my great desire was, that it might be seen that, now, in the nineteenth century, _God is still the Living God, and now, as well as thousands of years ago, he listens to the prayers of his children and helps those who trust in him._ In all the forty-two countries through which I traveled during the twenty-one years of my missionary service, numberless instances came before me of the benefit which this orphan institution has been, in this respect, not only in making men of the world see the reality of the things of God, and by converting them, but especially by leading the children of God more abundantly to give themselves to prayer, and by strengthening their faith. _Far beyond what I at first expected to accomplish_, the Lord has been pleased to give me. But what I have _seen_ as the fruit of my labor in this way may not be the thousandth part of what I _shall_ see when the Lord Jesus comes again; as day by day, for sixty-one years, I have earnestly labored, in believing prayer, that God would be pleased, most abundantly, to bless this service in the way I have stated.”

The objects of the Scriptural Knowledge Institution are set forth as follows: “To assist day schools and Sunday-schools in which instruction is given upon scriptural principles,” etc. By day schools conducted on scriptural principles, they mean “those in which the teachers are believers; where the way of salvation is pointed out, and in which no instruction is given opposed to the principles of the Gospel.” In these schools the Scriptures are read daily by the children. In the Sunday-schools the “teachers are believers, and the Holy Scriptures alone are the foundation of instruction.” The second object of the Institution is “to circulate the Holy Scriptures.” In one year four thousand three hundred and fifty Bibles were sold, and five hundred and twenty-five were given away; seven thousand eight hundred and eighty-one New Testament were sold, and one thousand five hundred and seventy-four were given away; fifty-five copies of the Psalms were sold, and thirty-eight were given away; two thousand one hundred and sixty-three portions of the Holy Scriptures were sold, and one hundred and sixty-two were given away; and three thousand one hundred illustrated portions of the Scriptures were given away. There have been circulated through this medium, since March, 1834, three hundred and eleven thousand two hundred and seventy-eight Bibles, and one million five hundred and seven thousand eight hundred and one copies of the New Testament. They keep in stock almost four hundred sorts of Bibles, ranging in price from twelve cents each to more than six dollars a copy.

Another object of the Institution is to aid in missionary efforts. “During the past year one hundred and eighty laborers in the Word and doctrine in various parts of the world have been assisted.” The fourth object is to circulate such publications as may be of benefit both to believers and unbelievers. In a single year one million six hundred and eleven thousand two hundred and sixty-six books and tracts were distributed gratuitously. The fifth object is to board, clothe, and scientifically educate destitute orphans. Mr. Muller belonged to that class of religious people who call themselves Brethren, and are called by others “Plymouth Brethren.”

After leaving Bristol, I went to London, the metropolis of the world. The first important place visited was Westminster Abbey, an old church, founded in the seventh century, rebuilt in 1049, and restored to its present form in the thirteenth century. Many eminent men and women are buried here. Chaucer, the first poet to find a resting place in the Abbey, was interred in 1400. The place where Major Andre is buried is marked by a small piece of the pavement bearing his name. On the wall close by is a monument to him. Here are the graves of Isaac Newton, Charles Dickens, Alfred Tennyson, Charles Darwin, and many others, including Kings and Queens of England for centuries. In the Poets’ Corner are monuments to Coleridge, Southey, Shakespeare, Burns, Tennyson, Milton, Gray, Spencer, and others, and one bearing the inscription “O Rare Ben Jonson.” There is also a bust of Longfellow, the only foreigner accorded a memorial in the Abbey. The grave of David Livingstone, the African explorer and missionary, is covered with a black stone of some kind, which forms a part of the floor or pavement, and contains an inscription in brass letters, of which the following quotation is a part: “All I can add in my solitude is, may heaven’s rich blessings come down on every one, American, English, or Turk, who will help to heal this open sore of the world.”

Concerning this interesting old place which is visited by more than fifty thousand Americans annually, Jeremy Taylor wrote: “Where our Kings are crowned, their ancestors lie interred, and they must walk over their grandsires to take the crown. There is an acre sown with royal seed, the copy of the greatest change, from rich to naked, from ceiled roofs to arched coffins, from living like gods to die like men. There the warlike and the peaceful, the fortunate and the miserable, the beloved and despised princes mingle their dust and pay down their symbol of mortality, and tell all the world that when we die our ashes shall be equal to Kings, and our accounts easier, and our pains for our sins shall be less.” While walking about in the Abbey, I also found these lines from Walter Scott:

“Here, where the end of earthly things Lays heroes, patriots, bards and kings; Where stiff the hand and still the tongue Of those who fought, and spoke, and sung; Here, where the fretted aisles prolong
The distant notes of holy song,
As if some Angel spoke again
‘All peace on earth, good will to men’; If ever from an English heart,
Here let prejudice depart.”

Bunhill Fields is an old cemetery where one hundred and twenty thousand burials have taken place. Here lie the ashes of Isaac Watts, the hymn writer; of Daniel De Foe, author of “Robinson Crusoe,” and of John Bunyan, who in Bedford jail wrote “Pilgrim’s Progress.” The monuments are all plain. The one at the grave of De Foe was purchased with the contributions of seventeen hundred people, who responded to a call made by some paper. On the top of Bunyan’s tomb rests the figure of a man, perhaps a representation of him whose body was laid in the grave below. On one of the monuments in this cemetery are the following words concerning the deceased: “In sixty-seven months she was tapped sixty-six times. Had taken away two hundred and forty gallons of water without ever repining at her case or ever fearing the operation.”

Just across the street from Bunhill Fields stands the house once occupied by John Wesley (now containing a museum) and a meeting-house which was built in Wesley’s day. The old pulpit from which Mr. Wesley preached is still in use, but it has been lowered somewhat. In front of the chapel is a statue of Wesley, and at the rear is his grave, and close by is the last resting place of the remains of Adam Clarke, the commentator.

A trip to Greenwich was quite interesting. I visited the museum and saw much of interest, including the painted hall, the coat worn by Nelson at the Battle of the Nile, and the clothing he wore when he was mortally wounded at Trafalgar. I went up the hill to the Observatory, and walked through an open door to the grounds where a gentleman informed me that visitors are not admitted without a pass; but he kindly gave me some information and told me that I was standing on the prime meridian. On the outside of the enclosure are scales of linear measure up to one yard, and a large clock.

After the trip to Greenwich, I went over the London Bridge, passed the fire monument, and came back across the Thames by the Tower Bridge, a peculiar structure, having two levels in one span, so passengers can go up the stairs in one of the towers, cross the upper level, and go down the other stairs when the lower level is opened for boats to pass up and down the river. While in Scotland, I twice crossed the great Forth Bridge, which is more than a mile and a half long and was erected at a cost of above fifteen millions of dollars. There are ten spans in the south approach, eight in the north approach, and two central spans each seventeen hundred feet long. The loftiest part of the structure is three hundred and sixty-one feet above high-water mark.

The Albert Memorial is perhaps the finest monument seen on the whole trip. The Victoria and Albert Museum contains the original Singer sewing-machine, and a printing-press supposed to have been used by Benjamin Franklin, and many other interesting things. The Natural History Museum also contains much to attract the visitor’s attention. Here I saw the skeleton of a mastodon about ten feet tall and twenty feet long; also the tusks of an extinct species of Indian elephant, which were nine feet and nine inches long. There is also an elephant tusk on exhibition ten feet long and weighing two hundred and eighty pounds.

Madam Tussaud’s exhibition of wax figures and relics is both interesting and instructive, and well repays one for the time and expense of a visit. Several American Presidents are represented in life-size figures, along with Kings and others who have been prominent in the affairs of men. In the Napoleon room are three of the great warrior’s carriages, the one used at Waterloo being in the number. London Tower is a series of strong buildings, which have in turn served as a fortress, a palace, and a prison. I saw the site of Anne Boleyn’s execution, but that which had the most interest for me was the room containing the crown jewels. They are kept in a glass case ten or twelve feet in diameter, in a small, circular room. Outside of the case there is an iron cage surrounded by a network of wire. The King’s crown is at the top of the collection, which contains other crowns, scepters, swords, and different costly articles. This crown, which was first made in 1838 for Queen Victoria, was enlarged for Edward, the present King. It contains two thousand eight hundred and eighteen diamonds, two hundred and ninety-seven pearls, and many other jewels. One of the scepters is supposed to contain a part of the cross of Christ, but the supposition had no weight with me. One of the attendants told me the value of the whole collection was estimated at four million pounds, and that it would probably bring five times that much if sold at auction. As the English pound is worth about four dollars and eighty-seven cents, this little room contains a vast treasure–worth upwards of a hundred million dollars.

I will only mention Nelson’s monument in Trafalgar Square, the Parliament Buildings, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Kew Gardens, Hampton Court Palace, and the Zoological Gardens. I also visited the Bank of England, which “stands on ground valued at two hundred and fifty dollars per square foot. If the bank should ever find itself pressed for money, it could sell its site for thirty-two million seven hundred and seventy thousand dollars.” It is a low building that is not noted for its beauty. If it were located in New York, probably one of the tall buildings characteristic of that city would be erected on the site.

The British Museum occupied my time for hours, and I shall not undertake to give a catalogue of the things I saw there, but will mention a few of them. There are manuscripts of early writers in the English tongue, including a copy of Beowulf, the oldest poem in the language; autograph works of Daniel De Foe, Ben Jonson, and others; the original articles of agreement between John Milton and Samuel Symmons relating to the sale of the copyright of “a poem entitled ‘Paradise Lost.'” There was a small stone inscribed in Phoenician, with the name of Nehemiah, the son of Macaiah, and pieces of rock that were brought from the great temple of Diana at Ephesus; a fragment of the Koran; objects illustrating Buddhism in India; books printed by William Caxton, who printed the first book in English; and Greek vases dating back to 600 B.C. In the first verse of the twentieth chapter of Isaiah we have mention of “Sargon, the king of Assyria.” For centuries this was all the history the world had of this king, who reigned more than seven hundred years before Christ. Within recent times his history has been dug up in making excavations in the east, and I saw one of his inscribed bricks and two very large, human-headed, winged bulls from a doorway of his palace.

The carvings from the palace of Sennacherib, tablets from the library of Asur-Banipal, and brick of Ur-Gur, king of Ur about twenty-five centuries before Christ, attracted my attention, as did also the colossal left arm of a statue of Thotmes III., which measures about nine feet. The Rosetta stone, by which the Egyptian hieroglyphics were translated, and hundreds of other objects were seen. In the mummy-room are embalmed bodies, skeletons, and coffins that were many centuries old when Jesus came to earth, some of them bearing dates as early as 2600 B.C., and in the case of a part of a body found in the third pyramid the date attached is 3633 B.C. Being weary, I sat down, and my note book contains this entry: “1:45 P.M., August 20. Resting here in the midst of mummies and sarcophagi thousands of years old.”

From the top of the Monument I took a bird’s-eye view of the largest of all earthly cities, or at least I looked as far as the smoky atmosphere would permit, and then returned to my stopping place at Twynholm. As I rode back on the top of an omnibus, the houses of one of the Rothschild family and the Duke of Wellington were pointed out. My sight-seeing in Scotland and England was now at an end, and the journey so far had been very enjoyable and highly profitable. I packed up and went down to Harwich, on the English Channel, where I embarked on the Cambridge for Antwerp, in Belgium. In this chapter I have purposely omitted reference to my association with the churches, as that will come up for consideration in another chapter.

CHAPTER II.

CROSSING EUROPE.

Immediately after my arrival in Antwerp I left for a short trip over the border to Rosendaal, Holland, where I saw but little more than brick-houses, tile roofs, and wooden shoes. I then returned to Antwerp, and went on to Brussels, the capital of Belgium. The battlefield of Waterloo is about nine and a half miles from Brussels, and I had an enjoyable trip to this notable place. The field is farming land, and now under cultivation. The chief object of interest is the Lion Mound, an artificial hill surmounted by the figure of a large lion. The mound is ascended by about two hundred and twenty-three steps, and from its summit one has a good view of the place where the great Napoleon met his defeat on the fifteenth of June, 1815. There is another monument on the field, which, though quite small and not at all beautiful, contains an impressive inscription. It was raised in memory of Alexander Gordon, an aide to the Duke of Wellington, and has the following words carved on one side: “A disconsolate sister and five surviving brothers have erected this simple memorial to the object of their tenderest affection.”

From Brussels I went over to Aix-la-Chapelle, on the frontier of Germany, where I spent but little time and saw nothing of any great interest to me. There was a fine statue of Wilhelm I., a crucifixion monument, and, as I walked along the street, I saw an advertisement for “Henry Clay Habanna Cigarren,” but not being a smoker, I can not say whether they were good or not. In this city I had an amusing experience buying a German flag. I couldn’t speak “Deutsch,” and she couldn’t speak English, but we made the trade all right.

My next point was Paris, the capital of the French Republic, and here I saw many interesting objects. I first visited the church called the Madeleine. I also walked along the famous street _Champs Elysees,_ visited the magnificent Arch of Triumph, erected to commemorate the victories of Napoleon, and viewed the Eiffel Tower, which was completed in 1889 at a cost of a million dollars. It contains about seven thousand tons of metal, and the platform at the top is nine hundred and eighty-five feet high. The Tomb of Napoleon is in the Church of the Invalides, one of the finest places I had visited up to that time. The spot where the Bastile stood is now marked by a lofty monument. The garden of the Tuileries, Napoleon’s palace, is one of the pretty places in Paris. Leaving this city in the morning, I journeyed all day through a beautiful farming country, and reached Pontarlier, in southern France, for the night.

My travel in Switzerland, the oldest free state in the world, was very enjoyable. As we were entering the little republic, in which I spent two days, the train was running through a section of country that is not very rough, when, all in a moment, it passed through a tunnel overlooking a beautiful valley, bounded by mountains on the opposite side and presenting a very pleasing view. There were many other beautiful scenes as I journeyed along, sometimes climbing the rugged mountain by a cog railway, and sometimes riding quietly over one of the beautiful Swiss lakes. I spent a night at lovely Lucerne, on the Lake of the Four Cantons, the body of water on which William Tell figured long ago. Lucerne is kept very clean, and presents a pleasing appearance to the tourist.

I could have gone to Fluelin by rail, but preferred to take a boat ride down the lake, and it proved to be a pleasant and enjoyable trip. The snow could be seen lying on the tops of the mountains while the flowers were blooming in the valleys below. Soon after leaving Fluelin, the train entered the St. Gothard Tunnel and did not reach daylight again for seventeen minutes. This tunnel, at that time the longest in the world, is a little more than nine miles in length. It is twenty-eight feet wide, twenty-one feet high, lined throughout with masonry, and cost eleven million four hundred thousand dollars. Since I was in Switzerland the Simplon Tunnel has been opened. It was begun more than six years ago by the Swiss and Italian Governments, an immense force of hands being worked on each end of it. After laboring day and night for years, the two parties met on the twenty-fourth of February. This tunnel, which is double, is more than twelve miles long and cost sixteen millions of dollars.

At Chiasso we did what is required at the boundary line of all the countries visited; that is, stop and let the custom-house officials inspect the baggage. I had nothing dutiable and was soon traveling on through Italy, toward Venice, where I spent some time riding on one of the little omnibus steamers that ply on its streets of water. But not all the Venetian streets are like this, for I walked on some that are paved with good, hard sandstone. I was not moved by the beauty of the place, and soon left for Pisa, passing a night in Florence on the way. The chief point of interest was the Leaning Tower, which has eight stories and is one hundred and eighty feet high. This structure, completed in the fourteenth century, seems to have commenced to lean when the third story was built. The top, which is reached by nearly three hundred steps, is fourteen feet out of perpendicular. Five large bells are suspended in the tower, from the top of which one can have a fine view of the walled city, with its Cathedral and Baptistery, the beautiful surrounding country, and the mountains in the distance.

The next point visited was Rome, old “Rome that sat on her seven hills and from her throne of beauty ruled the world.” One of the first things I saw when I came out of the depot was a monument bearing the letters “S.P.Q.R.” (the Senate and the people of Rome) which are sometimes seen in pictures concerning the crucifixion of Christ. In London there are numerous public water-closets; in France also there are public urinals, which are almost too public in some cases, but here in Rome the climax is reached, for the urinals furnish only the least bit of privacy. One of them, near the railway station, is merely an indentation of perhaps six or eight inches in a straight wall right against the sidewalk, where men, women, and children are passing.

By the aid of a guide-book and pictorial plan, I crossed the city from the gateway called “Porto del Popolo” to the “Porto S. Paolo,” seeing the street called the “Corso,” or race course, Piazza Colonna, Fountain of Treves, Trajan’s Forum, Roman Forum, Arch of Constantine, Pantheon, Colosseum, and the small Pyramid of Caius Cestus.

The Porto del Popolo is the old gateway by which travelers entered the city before the railroad was built. It is on the Flammian Way and is said to have been built first in A.D. 402. Just inside the gate is a space occupied by an Egyptian obelisk surrounded by four Egyptian lions. The Corso is almost a mile in length and extends from the gate just mentioned to the edge of the Capitoline Hill, where a great monument to Victor Emmanuel was being built. The Fountain of Treves is said to be the most magnificent in Rome, and needs to be seen to be appreciated. It has three large figures, the one in the middle representing the Ocean, the one on the left, Fertility, and the one on the right, Health. Women who are disposed to dress fashionably at the expense of a deformed body might be profited by a study of this figure of Health. Trajan’s Forum is an interesting little place, but it is a small show compared with the Roman Forum, which is much more extensive, and whose ruins are more varied. The latter contains the temples of Vespasian, of Concordia, of Castor and Pollux, and others. It also contains the famous Arch of Titus, the Basilica of Constantine, the remains of great palaces, and other ruins. “Originally the Forum was a low valley among the hills, a convenient place for the people to meet and barter.” The Palatine Hill was fortified by the first Romans, and the Sabines lived on other hills. These two races finally united, and the valley between the hills became the site of numerous temples and government buildings. Kings erected their palaces in the Forum, and it became the center of Roman life. But when Constantine built his capital at Constantinople, the greatness of the city declined, and it was sacked and plundered by enemies from the north. The Forum became a dumping ground for all kinds of rubbish until it was almost hidden from view, and it was called by a name signifying cow pasture. It has been partly excavated within the last century, and the ruined temples and palaces have been brought to light, making it once more a place of absorbing interest. I wandered around and over and under and through these ruins for a considerable length of time, and wrote in my note book: “There is more here than I can comprehend.”

I was in a garden on top of one part of the ruins where flowers and trees were growing, and then I went down through the mass of ruins by a flight of seventy-five stairs, which, the attendant said, was built by Caligula. I was then probably not more than half way to the bottom of this hill of ruins, which is honeycombed with corridors, stairways, and rooms of various sizes. The following scrap of history concerning Caligula will probably be interesting: “At first he was lavishly generous and merciful, but he soon became mad, and his cruelty knew no bounds. He banished or murdered his relatives and many of his subjects. Victims were tortured and slain in his presence while dining, and he uttered the wish that all the Roman people had but one neck, that he might strike it off at one blow. He built a bridge across the Bay of Baiae, and planted trees upon it and built houses upon it that he might say he had crossed the sea on dry land. In the middle of the bridge he gave a banquet, and at the close had a great number of the guests thrown into the sea. He made his favorite horse a priest, then a consul, and also declared himself a god, and had temples built in his honor.” It is said that Tiberius left the equivalent of one hundred and eighteen millions of dollars, and that Caligula spent it in less than a year. The attendant pointed out the corridor in which he said this wicked man was assassinated.

Near one of the entrances to the Forum stands the Arch of Titus, erected to commemorate the victory of the Romans over the Jews at Jerusalem in A.D. 70. It is built of Parian marble and still contains a well-preserved figure of the golden candlestick of the Tabernacle carved on one of its walls. There is a representation of the table of showbread near by, and some other carvings yet remain, indicating something of the manner in which the monument was originally ornamented.

The Colosseum, commenced by Vespasian in A.D. 72 and finished by Titus eight years later, is a grand old ruin. It is an open theater six hundred and twelve feet long, five hundred and fifteen feet wide, and one hundred and sixty-five feet high. This structure, capable of seating eighty-seven thousand people, stands near the bounds of the Forum. It is the largest of its kind, and is one of the best preserved and most interesting ruins in the world. When it was dedicated, the games lasted one hundred days, and five thousand wild beasts were slain. During the persecution of the Christians it is said to have been the scene of fearful barbarities.

On the second day I entered the Pantheon, “the best preserved monument of ancient Rome,” built by Marcus Agrippa, and consecrated to Mars, Venus, and others. It was burned in the reign of Titus and rebuilt by Hadrian, and in A.D. 608 Pope Boniface consecrated it as a church. The interior is shaped like a vast dome, and the only opening for light is a round hole in the top. Raphael, “reckoned by almost universal opinion as the greatest of painters,” lies buried in the Pantheon behind one of the altars. I went to Hadrian’s Tomb, now the Castle of St. Angelo, and on to St. Peter’s. Before this great church-building there is a large open space containing an obelisk and two fountains, said to be the finest in the city, with a semi-circular colonnade on two sides containing two hundred and eighty-four columns in four rows, and on the top of the entablature there are ninety-six large statues. There are large figures on the top of the church, representing Christ and the apostles. The interior is magnificent. There are three aisles five hundred and seventy-five feet long, and the middle one is eighty-two feet wide. The beautifully ornamented ceiling is one hundred and forty-two feet high. In this building, which was completed three hundred and fifty years after it was begun, is the reputed tomb of the Apostle Peter, and many large marble statues. There are figures representing boy angels that are as large as a full-grown man. The Vatican is not far from St. Peter’s, and I went up to see the Museum, but got there just as it was being closed for the day. I had a glimpse of the garden, and saw some of the Pope’s carriages, which were fine indeed.

One of the most interesting places that I visited about Rome was the old underground cemetery called the Catacombs of St. Calixtus. The visitors go down a stairway with a guide, who leads them about the chambers, which are but dimly lighted by the small candles they carry. The passages, cut in the earth or soft rock, vary both in width and height, and have been explored in modern times to the aggregate length of six miles. Some of the bodies were placed in small recesses in the walls, but I saw none there as I went through, but there were two in marble coffins under glass. In one of the small chambers the party sang in some foreign language, probably Italian, and while I could not understand them, I thought the music sounded well. The Circus of Maxentius, fifteen hundred feet long and two hundred and sixty feet wide, is near the Catacombs, as is also the tomb of Caecilla Metella, which is said to have been erected more than nineteen hundred years ago. It is probably as much as two miles from the city walls, and I walked on a little way and could see other ruins still farther in the distance, but I turned back toward the hotel, and some time after sundown found myself walking along the banks of the yellow Tiber in the old city. Two days of sight-seeing had been well spent in and around the former capital of the world, and I was ready to go on to Naples the next day.

There is a saying, “See Naples and die,” but I did not feel like expiring when I beheld it, although it is very beautifully located. The ruins of Pompeii, a few miles distant, had more interest for me than Naples. I went out there on the tenth of September, which I recollect as a very hot day. Pompeii, a kind of a summer resort for the Roman aristocracy, was founded 600 B.C. and destroyed by an eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in A.D. 79. It was covered with ashes from the volcano, and part of the population perished. The site of the city was lost, but was found after the lapse of centuries and the Italian Government began the excavations in 1860. Some of the old stone-paved streets, showing the ruts made by chariot wheels that ceased to roll centuries ago, have been laid bare. Portions of the houses are still standing, and the stone drinking fountains along the streets are yet to be seen, as are also the stepping stones at the crossings, which are higher than the blocks used in paving. Some of the walls still contain very clear paintings, some of which are not at all commendable, and others are positively lewd. One picture represented a wild boar, a deer, a lion, a rabbit, some birds, and a female (almost nude) playing a harp. There was also a very clear picture of a bird and some cherries. At one place in the ruins I saw a well-executed picture of a chained dog in mosaic work. It is remarkable how well preserved some things are here. In the Museum are petrified bodies in the positions they occupied when sudden and unexpected destruction was poured upon them, well nigh two thousand years ago. Some appear to have died in great agony, but one has a peaceful position. Perhaps this victim was asleep when the death angel came. I saw the petrified remains of a dog wearing a collar and lying on his back, and a child on its face. One of the men, who may have been a military officer, seemed to have a rusty sword at his side. There were skeletons, both of human beings and of brutes, bronze vessels, and such articles as cakes and eggs from the kitchens of the old city.

Mt. Vesuvius is a very famous volcano, standing four thousand feet high, and has wrought a great deal of destruction. In the eruption of 472, it is related that its ashes were carried to Constantinople; in 1066, the lava flowed down to the sea; in 1631, eighteen thousand lives were lost; and in 1794 a stream of lava more than a thousand feet wide and fifteen feet high destroyed a town. From my hotel in Naples I had a fine view of the red light rising from the volcano the evening after I visited Pompeii.

Leaving Naples, I went to Brindisi, where I took ship for Patras in Greece. A day was spent in crossing Italy, two nights and a day were taken up with the voyage to Patras, and a good part of a day was occupied with the railroad trip from there to Athens, where the hotel men made more ado over me than I was accustomed to, but I got through all right and secured comfortable quarters at the New York Hotel, just across the street from the Parliament Building. From the little balcony at my window I could look out at the Acropolis. The principal places visited the first day were the Stadium, Mars’ Hill, and the Acropolis.

Leaving the hotel and going through Constitution Square, up Philhellene Street, past the Russian and English churches, I came to the Zappeion, a modern building put up for Olympic exhibitions. The Arch of Hadrian, a peculiar old structure, twenty-three feet wide and about fifty-six feet high, stands near the Zappeion, and formerly marked the boundary between ancient Athens and the more modern part of the city. Passing through this arch, I soon came to what remains of the temple of the Olympian Jupiter, which was commenced long before the birth of Christ and finished by Hadrian about A.D. 140. Originally this temple, after that of Ephesus said to be the largest in the world, had three rows of eight columns each, on the eastern and western fronts, and a double row of one hundred columns on the northern and southern sides, and contained a statue of Jupiter, overlaid with gold and ivory. Its glory has long since departed, and only fifteen of the columns are now standing. A little farther on is the Stadium, with an arena over five hundred and eighty feet long, and one hundred and nine feet wide. It was originally constructed by the orator Lycurgus, about three hundred and fifty years before Christ, but was being rebuilt when I was there. The seats are on both sides and around the circular end of the arena, being made on the slope of the hill and covered with clean, white, Pentelic marble, making a beautiful sight.

On the way to Mars’ Hill and the Acropolis I passed the monument of Lysicrates, the theater of Bacchus, and the Odeon. This first-mentioned theater is said to have been “the cradle of dramatic art,” the masterpieces of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and others having been rendered there. The Odeon of Herod Atticus differed from other ancient theaters in that it was covered.

Mars’ Hill is a great, oval-shaped mass of rock which probably would not be called a hill in America. The small end, which is the highest part of it, lies next to the Acropolis, and its summit is reached by going up a short flight of steps cut in the limestone, and well preserved, considering their age. The bluff on the opposite side from these steps is perhaps thirty or forty feet high and very rugged. The rock slopes toward the wide end, which is only a few feet above the ground. I estimate the greatest length of it to be about two hundred yards, and the greatest width one hundred and fifty yards, but accurate measurements might show these figures to be considerably at fault. I have spoken of the hill as a rock, and such it is–a great mass of hard limestone, whose irregular surface, almost devoid of soil, still shows where patches of it were dressed down, perhaps for ancient altars or idols. The Areopagus was a court, which in Paul’s time had jurisdiction in cases pertaining to religion.

A vision called Paul into Macedonia, where Lydia was converted and Paul and Silas were imprisoned. In connection with their imprisonment, the conversion of the jailer of Philippi was brought about, after which the preachers went to Thessalonica, from whence Paul and Silas were sent to Berea. Jews from Thessalonica came down to Berea and stirred up the people, and the brethren sent Paul away, but Silas and Timothy were left behind. “They that conducted Paul, brought him as far as Athens,” and then went back to Berea with a message to Silas and Timothy to come to him “with all speed.” “Now while Paul waited for them at Athens, his spirit was provoked within him as he beheld the city full of idols.” Being thus vexed, and having the gospel of Christ to preach, he reasoned with the Jews and devout people in the synagogue and every day in the marketplace with those he met there. He came in contact with philosophers of both the Epicurean and Stoic schools, and it was these philosophers who took him to the Areopagus, saying: “May we know what this new teaching is which is spoken by thee?”

The Athenians of those days were a pleasure-loving set of idolaters who gave themselves up to telling and hearing new things. Besides the many idols in the city, there were numerous temples and places of amusement. Within a few minutes’ walk was the Stadium, capable of holding fifty thousand persons, and still nearer were the theater of Bacchus and the Odeon, capable of accommodating about thirty and six thousand people respectively. On the Acropolis, probably within shouting distance, stood some heathen temples, one of them anciently containing a colossal statue of Athene Parthenos, said to have been not less than thirty-nine feet high and covered with ivory and gold. In another direction and in plain sight stood, and still stands, the Theseum, a heathen temple at that time. Take all this into consideration, with the fact that Paul had already been talking with the people on religious subjects, and his great speech on Mars’ Hill may be more impressive than ever before.

“Ye men of Athens, in all things I perceive that ye are very religious. For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, To an unknown God. What therefore ye worship in ignorance, this I set forth unto you. The God that made the world and all things therein, he being Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; neither is he served by men’s hands as though he needed anything, seeing he himself giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; and he made of one every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed seasons, and the bounds of their habitation; that they should seek God, if haply they might feel after him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us; for in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain even of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring. Being then the offspring of God, we ought not to think the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver or stone, graven by art and device of man. The times of ignorance therefore God overlooked, but now he commandeth men that they should all everywhere repent: inasmuch as he hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by the man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men in that he hath raised him from the dead.”

The Acropolis is a great mass of stone near Mars’ Hill, but rising much higher and having a wall around its crest. At one time, it is said, the population of the city lived here, but later the city extended into the valley below and the Acropolis became a fortress. About 400 B.C. the buildings were destroyed by the Persians, and those now standing there in ruins were erected by Pericles. The entrance, which is difficult to describe, is through a gateway and up marble stairs to the top, where there are large quantities of marble in columns, walls, and fragments. The two chief structures are the Parthenon and the Erectheum. The Parthenon is two hundred and eight feet long and one hundred and one feet wide, having a height of sixty-six feet. It is so large and situated in such a prominent place that it can be seen from all sides of the hill. In 1687 the Venetians while besieging Athens, threw a shell into it and wrecked a portion of it, but part of the walls and some of the fluted columns, which are more than six feet in diameter, are yet standing. This building is regarded as the most perfect model of Doric architecture in the world, and must have been very beautiful before its clear white marble was discolored by the hand of time and broken to pieces in cruel war. The Erectheum is a smaller temple, having a little porch with a flat roof supported by six columns in the form of female figures.

The Theseum, an old temple erected probably four hundred years before Christ, is the best preserved ruin of ancient Athens. It is a little over a hundred feet long, forty-five feet wide, and is surrounded by columns nearly nineteen feet high. The Hill of the Pynx lies across the road a short distance from the Theseum. At the lower side there is a wall of large stone blocks and above this a little distance is another wall cut in the solid rock, in the middle of which is a cube cut in the natural rock. This is probably the platform from which the speaker addressed the multitude that could assemble on the shelf or bench between the two walls.

Some of the principal modern buildings are the Hellenic Academy, the University, Library, Royal Palace, Parliament Building, various church buildings, hotels, and business houses. The University, founded in 1837, is rather plain in style, but is ornamented on the front after the manner of the ancients, with a number of paintings, representing Oratory, Mathematics, Geology, History, Philosophy, and other lines of study. At one end is a picture of Paul, at the other end, a representation of Prometheus. The museum is small and by no means as good as those to be seen in larger and wealthier countries. The Academy, finished in 1885, is near the University, and, although smaller than its neighbor, is more beautiful. On the opposite side of the University a fine new Library was being finished, and in the same street there is a new Roman Catholic church. I also saw two Greek Catholic church houses, but they did not seem to be so lavishly decorated within as the Roman church, but their high ceilings were both beautifully ornamented with small stars on a blue background. I entered a cemetery near one of these churches and enjoyed looking at the beautiful monuments and vaults. It is a common thing to find a representation of the deceased on the monument. Some of these are full-length statues, others are carvings representing only the head. Lanterns, some of them lighted, are to be seen on many of the tombs. There are some fine specimens of the sculptor’s art to be seen here, and the place will soon be even more beautiful, for a great deal of work was being done. In fact, the whole city of Athens seemed to be prosperous, from the amount of building that was being done.

The Parliament Building is not at all grand. The Royal Palace is larger and considerably finer. At the head of a stairway is a good picture of Prometheus tortured by an eagle. The visitor is shown the war room, a large hall with war scenes painted on the walls and old flags standing in the corners. The throne room and reception room are both open to visitors, as is also the ball room, which seemed to be more elaborately ornamented than the throne room. There is a little park of orange and other trees before the palace, also a small fountain with a marble basin. The highest point about the city is the Lycabettus, a steep rock rising nine hundred and nineteen feet above the level of the sea, and crowned with a church building. From its summit a splendid view of the city, the mountains, and the ocean may be obtained.

I spent five days in this city, the date of whose founding does not seem to be known. Pericles was one of the great men in the earlier history of the old city. He made a sacred enclosure of the Acropolis and placed there the masterpieces of Greece and other countries. The city is said to have had a population of three hundred thousand in his day, two-thirds of them being slaves. The names of Socrates, Demosthenes, and Lycurgus also belong to the list of great Athenians. In 1040 the Normans captured Piraeus, the seaport of Athens, and in 1455 the Turks, commanded by Omar, captured the city. The Acropolis was occupied by the Turks in 1826, but they surrendered the next year, and in 1839 Athens became the seat of government of the kingdom of Greece. With Athens, my sight-seeing on the continent ended. Other interesting and curious sights were seen besides those mentioned here. For instance, I had noticed a variety of fences. There were hedges, wire fences, fences of stone slabs set side by side, frail fences made of the stalks of some plant, and embryo fences of cactus growing along the railroad. In Italy, I saw many white oxen, a red ox being an exception that seems seldom to occur. I saw men hauling logs with oxen and a cart, the long timber being fastened beneath the axle of the cart and to the beam of the yoke. In Belgium, one may see horses worked three abreast and four tandem, and in Southern France they were shifting cars in one of the depots with a horse, and in France I also saw a man plowing with an ox and a horse hitched together. Now the time had come to enter the Turkish Empire, and owing to what I had previously heard of the Turk, I did not look forward to it with pleasure.

CHAPTER III.

ASIA MINOR AND SYRIA.

The Greek ship _Alexandros_ left the harbor of Piraeus in the forenoon of Lord’s day, September eighteenth, and anchored outside the breakwater at Smyrna, in Asia Minor, the next morning. The landing in Turkish territory was easily accomplished, and I was soon beyond the custom house, where my baggage and passport were examined, and settled down at the “Hotel d’Egypte,” on the water front. This was the first time the passport had been called for on the journey. The population of Smyrna is a mixture of Turks, Greeks, Jews, Armenians, Italians, Americans, and Negroes. The English Government probably has a good sized representation, as it maintains its own postoffice. The city itself is the main sight. The only ruins I saw were those of an old castle on the hill back of the city. The reputed tomb of Polycarp is over this hill from Smyrna, between two cypress trees, but I do not know that I found the correct location. Near the place that I supposed to be the tomb is an aqueduct, a portion of it built of stone and a portion of metal. As I went on out in the country I entered a vineyard to get some grapes, not knowing how I would be received by the woman I saw there; but she was very kind-hearted, and when I made signs for some of the grapes, she at once pulled off some clusters and gave them to me. She also gave me a chair and brought some fresh water. More grapes were gathered and put in this cold water, so I had a fine time eating the fruit as I sat there in the shade watching a little boy playing about; but I could not converse with either of them on account of not knowing their language. On the way back to the city I stopped at the railway station to make inquiries about a trip to Ephesus.

Most of the streets in Smyrna are narrow and crooked, but there is one running along the water front that is rather attractive. On one side is the water, with the numerous vessels that are to be seen in this splendid harbor, and on the other side is a row of residences, hotels, and other buildings. The people turn out in great numbers at night and walk along this street, sometimes sitting down at the little tables that are set in the open air before places where different kinds of drinks are dispensed. Here they consume their drinks and watch the free performances that are given on an open stage adjoining the street and the grounds where they are seated. Perhaps the most peculiar thing about it all is the quiet and orderly behavior of this great crowd of people. While in this city I had occasion to go to the “Banque Imperiale Ottoman,” and learned that it was open in the forenoon and afternoon, but closed awhile in the middle of the day. I saw a street barber plying his trade here one day. A vessel of water was put up under the customer’s chin, and held there by keeping the chin down. The barber had his strop fastened to himself, and not to the chair or a wall, as we see it at home. Great quantities of oats were being brought down from the interior on camels. The sacks were let down on the pavement, and laborers were busy carrying them away. A poor carrier would walk up to a sack of grain and drop forward on his hands, with his head between them, and reaching down almost or altogether to the pavement. The sack of grain was then pulled over on his back, and he arose and carried it away. Some poor natives were busy sweeping the street and gathering up the grain that lost out of the sacks. There seems to be a large amount of trade carried on at this port. Several ships were in the harbor, and hundreds of camels were bringing in the grain. There are now many mosques and minarets in Smyrna, where there was once a church of God. (Revelation 2:8-11.)

On Wednesday, September twenty-first, I boarded a train on the Ottoman Railway for Ayassalouk, the nearest station to the ruins of Ephesus, a once magnificent city, “now an utter desolation, haunted by wild beasts.” We left Smyrna at seven o’clock, and reached Ayassalouk, fifty miles distant, at half-past nine. The cars on this railway were entered from to side, as on European railroads, but this time the doors were locked after the passengers were in their compartments. Ayassalouk is a poor little village, with only a few good houses and a small population. At the back of the station are some old stone piers, that seem to have supported arches at an earlier date. On the top of the hill, as on many hilltops in this country, are the remains of an old castle. Below the castle are the ruins of what I supposed to be St. John’s Church, built largely of marble, and once used as a mosque, but now inhabited by a large flock of martins.

I visited the site of Ephesus without the services of a guide, walking along the road which passes at some distance on the right. I continued my walk beyond the ruins, seeing some men plowing, and others caring for flocks of goats, which are very numerous in the East. When I turned back from the road, I passed a well, obtaining a drink by means of the rope and bucket that were there, and then I climbed a hill to the remains of a strong stone building of four rooms. The thick walls are several feet high, but all the upper part of the structure has been thrown down, and, strange to say, a good portion of the fallen rocks are in three of the rooms, which are almost filled. It is supposed that Paul made a journey after the close of his history in the book of Acts; that he passed through Troas, where he left a cloak and some books (2 Tim. 4:13); was arrested there, and probably sent to Ephesus for trial before the proconsul. Tradition has it that this ruined stone building is the place where he was lodged, and it is called St. Paul’s Prison. From the top of its walls I could look away to the ruins of the city proper, about a mile distant, the theater being the most conspicuous object.

There are several attractions in Ephesus, where there was once a church of God–one of the “seven churches in Asia”–but the theater was the chief point of interest to me. It was cut out of the side of the hill, and its marble seats rested on the sloping sides of the excavation, while a building of some kind, a portion of which yet remains, was built across the open side at the front. I entered the inclosure, the outlines of which are still plainly discernible, and sat down on one of the old seats and ate my noonday meal. As I sat there, I thought of the scene that would greet my eyes if the centuries that have intervened since Paul was in Ephesus could be turned back. I thought I might see the seats filled with people looking down upon the apostle as he fought for his life; and while there I read his question: “If after the manner of men I fought with beasts at Ephesus, what doth it profit me” if the dead are not raised up? (I Cor. 15:32). I also read the letter which Jesus caused the aged Apostle John to write to the church at this place (Rev. 2:1-7), and Paul’s epistle to the congregation that once existed in this idolatrous city of wealth and splendor. As I was leaving this spot, where I was so deeply impressed with thoughts of the great apostle to the Gentiles, I stopped and turned back to take a final look, when I thought of his language to Timothy, recorded in the first eight verses of the second epistle, and then I turned and read it. Perhaps I was not so deeply impressed at any other point on the whole journey as I was here. The grand old hero, who dared to enter the city which was “temple-keeper of the great Diana,” this temple being one of the “Seven Wonders of the World,” and boldly preach the gospel of Christ, realizing that the time of his departure was at hand, wrote: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give to me at that day; and not to me only, but also to all them that have loved his appearing.” Meditating on the noble and lofty sentiment the apostle here expresses in connection with his solemn charge to the young evangelist, I have found my sentiments well expressed in Balaam’s parable, where he says: “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his” (Num. 23:10).

Near the front of the theater, on the left as one comes out, is quite a space, which seems to have been excavated recently, and farther to the left excavations were being made when I was there. An ancient lamp, a fluted column, and a headless statue were among the articles taken out. The workmen were resting when I viewed this part of the ruins, and an old colored man gave me a drink of water. Beginning a little to the right of the theater, and extending for perhaps fifteen hundred or two thousand feet, is a marble-paved street, along which are strewn numerous bases, columns, and capitals, which once ornamented this portion of the great city; and to the right of this are the remains of some mighty structure of stone and brick. In some places, where the paving blocks have been taken up, a water course beneath is disclosed. While walking around in the ruins, I saw a fine marble sarcophagus, or coffin, ornamented with carvings of bulls’ heads and heavy festoons of oak leaves.

J.S. Wood, an Englishman, worked parts of eleven years, from 1863 to 1874, in making excavations at Ephesus. Upwards of eighty thousand dollars were spent, about fifty-five thousand being used in a successful effort to find the remains of the Temple of Diana. I followed the directions of my guide-book, but may not have found the exact spot, as Brother McGarvey, who visited the place in 1879, speaks of the excavations being twenty feet deep. “Down in this pit,” he says, “lie the broken columns of white marble and the foundation walls of the grandest temple ever erected on earth”; but I saw nothing like this.

When Paul had passed through Galatia and Phrygia, “establishing all the disciples,” “having passed through the upper country,” he came to Ephesus, and found “about twelve men” who had been baptized “into John’s baptism,” whom Paul baptized “into the name of the Lord Jesus.” He then entered into the Jewish meeting place and reasoned boldly “concerning the kingdom of God.” Some of the hardened and disobedient spoke “evil of the Way,” so Paul withdrew from them and reasoned “daily in the school of Tyrannus. And this continued for the space of two years; so that all they that dwelt in Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks.” The Lord wrought special miracles by Paul, so that the sick were healed when handkerchiefs or aprons were borne from him to them. Here some of the strolling Jews “took upon them to name over them that had the evil spirits the name of the Lord Jesus, saying, I adjure you by Jesus, whom Paul preacheth.” When two of the sons of Sceva undertook to do this, the man possessed of the evil spirit “leaped on them and mastered both of them, and prevailed against them, so that they fled out of the house naked and wounded.” There were stirring times in Ephesus in those days. Fear fell upon the people, “and the name of the Lord Jesus was magnified.” Many of the believers “came confessing, and declaring their deeds. And not a few of them that practiced magical arts brought their books together and burned them in the sight of all; and they counted the price of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver.” “So mightily grew the word of the Lord and prevailed.”

“And about that time there arose no small stir concerning the Way. For a certain man named Demetrius, a silversmith who made silver shrines of Diana, brought no little business unto the craftsmen; whom he gathered together, with the workmen of like occupation, and said, Sirs, ye know that by this business we have our wealth. And ye see and hear that not alone at Ephesus, but almost throughout all Asia, this Paul hath persuaded and turned away much people, saying that they are no gods that are made with hands: and not only is there danger that our trade come into disrepute, but also that the temple of the great goddess Diana be made of no account, and that she should even be deposed from her magnificence, whom all Asia and the world worshipeth. And when they heard this they were filled with wrath, and cried out, saying, Great is Diana of the Ephesians. And the city was filled with the confusion: and they rushed with one accord into the theater, having seized Gaius and Aristarchus, men of Macedonia, Paul’s companions in travel. And when Paul was minded to enter in unto the people, the disciples suffered him not. And certain also of the Asiarchs, being his friends, sent unto him and besought him not to adventure himself into the theater. Some therefore cried one thing, and some another: for the assembly was in confusion; and the more part knew not wherefore they were come together. And they brought Alexander out of the multitude, the Jews putting him forward. And Alexander beckoned with the hand and would have made a defense unto the people. But when they perceived that he was a Jew, all with one voice about the space of two hours cried out, Great is Diana of the Ephesians. And when the town clerk had quieted the multitude, he saith, Ye men of Ephesus, what man is there who knoweth not that the city of the Ephesians is temple-keeper of the great Diana, and of the image which fell down from Jupiter? Seeing then that these things can not be gainsaid, ye ought to be quiet, and to do nothing rash. For ye have brought hither these men, who are neither robbers of temples nor blasphemers of our goddess. If therefore Demetrius, and the craftsmen that are with him, have a matter against any man, the courts are open, and there are proconsuls: let them accuse one another. But if ye seek anything about other matters, it shall be settled in the regular assembly. For indeed we are in danger to be accused concerning this day’s riot, there being no cause for it: and as touching it we shall not be able to give an account of this concourse. And when he had thus spoken, he dismissed the assembly” (Acts 19:23-41).

As I was leaving the ruins, I stopped, sat down in sight of the spot where I supposed the temple stood, and read the speech of Demetrius, and thought his fears were well founded. Their trade has come into disrepute, “the temple of the great goddess” has been “made of no account,” and “she whom Asia and all the world” worshiped has been “deposed from her magnificence.” Portions of the temple are now on exhibition in the British Museum, in London, and portions have been carried to different other cities to adorn buildings inferior to the one in which they were originally used. “From the temple to the more southern of the two eastern gates of the city,” says McGarvey, “are traces of a paved street nearly a mile in length, along the side of which was a continuous colonnade, with the marble coffins of the city’s illustrious dead occupying the spaces between the columns. The processions of worshipers, as they marched out of the city to the temple, passed by this row of coffins, the inscriptions on which were constantly proclaiming the noble deeds of the mighty dead.” The canal and artificial harbor, which enabled the ships of the world to reach the gates of the city, have disappeared under the weight of the hand of time. In some places the ground is literally covered with small stones, and even in the theater, weeds, grass and bushes grow undisturbed. How complete the desolation!

Before leaving Ayassalouk on the afternoon train, I bought some grapes of a man who weighed them to me with a pair of balances, putting the fruit on one pan and a stone on the other; but I didn’t object to his scales, for he gave me a good supply, and I went back and got some more. I also bought some bread to eat with the grapes, and one of the numerous priests of these Eastern countries gave me some other fruit on the train. I was abroad in the fruit season, and I enjoyed it very much. I had several kinds, including the orange, lemon, grapes, pomegranates, figs, olives, and dates. Perhaps I had nothing finer than the large, sweet grapes of Greece. The next day after the trip to Ephesus, I boarded the _Princess Eugenia_, a Russian ship, for Beyrout, in Syria. Soon after leaving Smyrna the ship stopped at a port of disinfection. The small boats were lowered, and the third-class passengers were carried to the disinfecting establishment, where their clothes were heated in a steam oven, while they received a warm shower bath without expense to themselves. A nicely dressed young German shook his head afterwards, as though he did not like such treatment; but it was not specially disagreeable, and there was no use to complain.

That evening, the twenty-second of September, we sailed into a harbor on the island of Chios, the birth-place of the philosopher Pythagoras. It is an island twenty-seven miles long, lying near the mainland. The next morning we passed Cos and Rhodes. On this last mentioned island once stood the famous Colossus, which was thrown down by an earthquake in 224 B.C. The island of Patmos, to which John was banished, and upon which he wrote the Revelation, was passed in the night before we reached Cos. It is a rocky, barren patch of land, about twenty miles in circumference, lying twenty-four miles from the coast of Asia Minor. On the twenty-fourth the _Princess Eugenia_ passed the southwestern end of the island of Cyprus. In response to a question, one of the seamen answered me: “Yes, that’s Kiprus.” I was sailing over the same waters Paul crossed on his third missionary tour on the way from Assos to Tyre. He “came over against Chios,” “came with a straight course unto Cos, and the next day unto Rhodes,” and when he “had come in sight of Cyprus, leaving it on the left hand (he) sailed unto Syria and landed at Tyre” (Acts 20:15 and 21:1-3).

On the evening of Lord’s day, September twenty-fifth, the ship passed Tripoli, on the Syrian coast, and dropped down to Beyrout, where I stopped at the “Hotel Mont Sion,” with the waves of the Mediterranean washing against the foundation walls. At seven o’clock the next morning I boarded the train for Damascus, ninety-one miles distant, and we were soon climbing the western slope of the Lebanon Mountains by a cog railway. When we were part way up, the engine was taken back and hitched to the rear end of the train. After we were hauled along that way awhile, it was changed back to the front end again. In these mountains are vineyards and groves of figs, olives, and mulberry trees, but most of the ground was dry and brown, as I had seen it in Southern Italy, Greece, and Asia Minor. Beyond the mountains is a beautiful plain, which we entered about noon, and when it was crossed, we came to the Anti-Lebanon Mountains, and reached the old city in the evening. Damascus, with its mixed population of Moslems, Greeks, Syrians, Armenians, Jews, and others, is the largest city in Syria, and it has probably been continuously inhabited longer than any other city on earth. Away back in the fourteenth chapter of Genesis we read of Abraham’s victory over the enemies who had taken Lot away, whom Abraham pursued “unto Hobah, which is on the left of Damascus,” and in the next chapter we read of “Eliezer of Damascus,” who Abraham thought would be the possessor of his house. Rezon “reigned in Damascus, and he was an adversary to Israel all the days of Solomon” (1 Kings 11:23-25). Elisha went to Damascus when Ben-Hadad was sick (2 Kings 8:7-15); Jeroboam recovered the city, which had belonged to Judah (2 Kings 14:28); and Jeremiah prophesied of the city (Jeremiah 49:23-27). It was probably the home of Naaman, the Syrian leper, and here Paul was baptized into Christ.

For a long time the Arabs have considered Damascus as “an earthly reflection of Paradise,” but an American or European would consider a place no better than it is as being far from the Paradise of Divine making. But it is not entirely without reason that these people have such a lofty conception of the old city. The Koran describes Paradise as a place of trees and streams of water, and Damascus is briefly described in those words. There are many public drinking fountains in the city, and owing to the abundance of water, there are many trees. The river Abana, one of the “rivers of Damascus” (2 Kings 5:12), flows through the city, but the most of its water is diverted by artificial channels. I had some difficulty in finding the American Consular Agent, and it is no wonder, for the place is not the most prominent in Damascus by a good deal, and the escutcheon marking it as the place where the American Government is represented is not on the street, but over a door in a kind of porch. The Agent was not in, so I retraced my steps to the French consulate, which is near by. I was kindly received by a gentleman who could speak English, and after we had had a good, cool drink of lemonade, he went with me to the “Hotel d’Astre d’Orient,” in the “street which is called Straight.” The next morning I found the American Agent in his office. Then I went to the postoffice, and after being taken upstairs and brought back downstairs, I was led up to a little case on the wall, which was unlocked in order that I might look through the bunch of letters it contained addressed in English, and I was made glad by receiving an epistle from the little woman who has since taken my name upon her for life. After reading my letter, I went out and walked up the mountain side far enough to get a bird’s-eye view of the city, and it was a fine sight the rich growth of green trees presented in contrast with the brown earth all around. Returning to the city, I walked about the streets, devoting some of my time to the bazaars, or little stores, in which a great variety of goods are offered for sale. I also saw several kinds of work, such as weaving, wood-turning and blacksmithing, being carried on. The lathes used for turning wood are very simple, and are operated by a bow held in the workman’s right hand, while the chisel is held in his left hand and steadied by the toes on one or the other of his feet. It is a rather slow process, but they can turn out good work. One gentleman, who was running a lathe of this kind, motioned for me to come up and sit by his side on a low stool. I accepted his invitation, and he at once offered me a cigarette, which I could not accept. A little later he called for a small cup of coffee, which I also declined, but he took no offense. “The street which is called Straight” is not as straight as might be supposed from its name, but there is probably enough difference between its course and that of others to justify the name.

When Paul was stricken with blindness on his way here (Acts 9:1-30), he was directed to enter the city, where he would be told all things that were appointed for him to do. He obeyed the voice from heaven, and reached the house of Judas in Straight Street. When I reached the traditional site of the house of Ananias, in the eastern part of the city, near the gate at the end of Straight Street, I found a good-natured woman sitting on the pavement just inside the door opening from the street to what would be called a yard in America. The “house” has been converted into a small church, belonging to the Catholics, and it is entirely below the surface. I went down the stairs, and found a small chamber with an arched ceiling and two altars. I also went out and visited the old gateway at the end of the street. The masonry is about thirteen feet thick, and it may be that here Paul, deprived of his sight, and earnestly desiring to do the will of the Lord, entered the city so long ago. I then viewed a section of the wall from the outside. The lower part is ancient, but the upper part is modern, and the portion that I saw was in a dilapidated condition. “In Damascus,” Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “the governor, under Aretas the king, guarded the city of the Damascenes in order to take me: and through a window was I let down in a basket by the wall, and escaped his hands” (2 Cor. 11:32,33). In some places there are houses so built in connection with the wall that it would not be a very difficult thing to lower a man from one of the windows to the ground outside the city.

Mention has already been made of the Arab’s opinion of Damascus, and now I wish to tell how it appeared through my spectacles. The view from the distance is very pleasing, but when one comes inside the wall and begins to walk about the streets, the scene changes. The outside of the buildings is not beautiful. The streets are narrow, crooked, and usually very dirty; in some cases they are filthy. It seems that all kinds of rubbish are thrown into the streets, and the dogs are scavengers. Perhaps no other city has so many dogs. At one place up along the Abana, now called the Barada, I counted twenty-three of these animals, and a few steps brought me in sight of five more; but there is some filth that even Damascus dogs will not clean up. Some of the streets are roughly paved with stone, but in the best business portion of the city that I saw there was no pavement and no sidewalk–it was all street from one wall to the other. I saw a man sprinkling one of the streets with water carried in the skin of some animal, perhaps a goat. When I came out of the postoffice, a camel was lying on the pavement, and in another part of the city I saw a soldier riding his horse on the sidewalk. Down in “the street which is called Straight” a full-grown man was going along as naked as when he was born. Perhaps he was insane, but we do not even allow insane men to walk the streets that way in this country. Carriages are used for conveying passengers, but freight is usually moved on the backs of horses, camels, donkeys, or men. Some wagons and carts are to be seen, but they are not numerous. It is remarkable what loads are piled upon the donkeys, probably the commonest beasts of burden in Damascus. Sometimes the poor little creatures are almost hidden from view by the heavy burdens they are required to bear, which may consist of grapes to be sold, or rubbish to be carried out of the city. Sometimes they are ridden by as many as three people at once. If the gospel were to get a firm hold on these people, the donkeys would fare better.

About 333 B.C., Damascus came under the control of Alexander the Great. Antiochus Dionysius reigned there three years, but was succeeded by Aretas of Arabia in 85 B.C. Under Trajan it became a Roman provincial city. The Mongols took it in 1260, and the Tartars plundered it in 1300. An enemy marched against it in 1399, but the citizens purchased immunity from plunder by paying a “sum of a million pieces of gold.” In 1516, when Selim, the Turkish Sultan, marched in, it became one of the provincial capitals of the Turkish Empire, and so continues. There was a very serious massacre here in 1860. All the consulates, except the British and Prussian, were burned, and the entire Christian quarter was turned into ruins. In the two consulates that were spared many lives were preserved, but it is said that “no fewer than six thousand unoffending Christians … were thus murdered in Damascus alone,” and “the whole number of the Christians who perished in these days of terror is estimated at fourteen thousand.” A number of the leaders were afterward beheaded, and a French force, numbering ten thousand, was sent into the country. The Mohammedans have about two hundred mosques and colleges in this city, which was once far advanced in civilization.

I left Damascus and returned toward the coast to Rayak, where I took the train on a branch line for Baalbec, the Syrian city of the sun, a place having no Biblical history, but being of interest on account of the great stones to be seen there. No record has been preserved as to the origin of the city, but coins of the first century of the Christian era show that it was then a Roman colony. It is situated in the valley of the Litany, at an elevation of two thousand eight hundred and forty feet above the sea. The chief ruins are in a low part of the valley by the side of the present town, and are surrounded by gardens. Within the inclosing wall are the remains of the temple of Jupiter and the temple of the sun. The hand of time and the hand of man have each had a share in despoiling these ruins, but they still speak with eloquence of their grandeur at an earlier date. The wall is so low on the north that it is supposed to have been left unfinished. Here are nine stones, each said to be thirty feet long, ten feet thick and thirteen feet high, and they are closely joined together without the use of mortar. Just around the corner are three others still larger, and built in the wall about twenty feet above the foundation. Their lengths are given as follows: sixty-three feet; sixty-three feet and eight inches; and sixty-four feet. They are thirteen feet high and about ten feet thick. Some may be interested in knowing how such large building blocks were moved. McGarvey says: “It is explained by the carved slabs found in the temple of Nineveh, on which are sculptured representations of the entire process. The great rock was placed on trucks by means of levers, a large number of strong ropes were tied to the truck, a smooth track of heavy timbers was laid, and men in sufficient number to move the mass were hitched to the ropes.” Some of the smaller stones have holes cut in them, as if for bars, levers, or something of that kind, but the faces of these big blocks are smooth. “A man must visit the spot, ride round the exterior, walk among the ruins, sit down here and there to gaze upon its more impressive features, see the whole by sunlight, by twilight, and by moonlight, and allow his mind leisurely to rebuild it and re-people it, ere he can comprehend it.”–_McGarvey_.

There were some of the native girls out by the ruins who tried to sell me some of their needle work, but I was not disposed to buy. One of them attempted to make a sale by saying something like this: “You’re very nice, Mister; please buy one.” I told her there was a little girl in America who thought that, too, and went on. There is a rock in the quarry at Baalbec that is larger than any of those in the ruins, although it was never entirely cut out, the length of which is sixty-eight feet, and the width varies from about thirteen feet at one end to seventeen feet at the other. It is about fourteen feet thick, and the estimated weight is fifteen hundred tons. Some of the stones in a ruined building, once a tomb, standing on the hill above the town, give forth a metallic ring when struck. Farther on is a small cemetery, in which some of the headstones and footstones are as much as nine feet apart. If the people buried there were that long, surely “there were giants in the land in those days.” I went down on the opposite side of the hill from the tomb and entered a vineyard, where an old man treated me with kindness and respect. The modern town is poorly built of small stones and mud, but there are some good buildings of dressed stone, among which I may mention the British Syrian School and the Grand New Hotel. I staid at another hotel, where I found one of those pre-occupied beds which travelers in the East so often find. About midnight, after I had killed several of the little pests, I got up and shaved by candle-light, for I wasn’t sleepy, and there was no use to waste the time.

Leaving Baalbec, I went down to Rayak and on to Beyrout again. This old city is said to have been entirely destroyed in the second century before Christ. It was once a Roman possession, and gladiatorial combats were held there by Titus after the destruction of Jerusalem. An earthquake destroyed it in 529, and the British bombarded it in 1840. The population is a great mixture of Turks, Orthodox Greeks, United Greeks, Jews, Latins, Maronites, Protestants, Syrians, Armenians, Druses, and others. A great many ships call here, as this is the most important commercial city in Syria. The numerous exports consist of silk, olive oil, cotton, raisins, licorice, figs, soap, sponges, cattle, and goats. Timber, coffee, rice, and manufactured goods are imported. At one time Arabic was the commonest language, and Italian came next, but now, while Arabic holds first place, French comes second. The British, Austrians, Russians, and perhaps the French, maintain their own postoffices. Considerable efforts are being made by American, British, and other missionary institutions to better the condition of the natives. The American Mission, conducted by the Presbyterians, has been in operation more than seventy years. A few years ago they had one hundred and forty-three schools and more than seven thousand pupils. The Church of Scotland has a mission for the Jews. The British Syrian Mission was established in 1864.

Beyrout has comparatively little of interest for the traveler. I walked out to the public garden one morning and found it closed, but I do not think I missed much. As I went along from place to place, I had opportunity to see the weavers, wood-turners, and marble-cutters at their work. I stopped at a small candy factory, equipped with what seemed to be good machinery for that kind of work. One day I watched some camels get up after their burdens of lumber had been tied on. They kept up a peculiar distressing noise while they were being loaded, but got up promptly when the time came. When a camel lies down, his legs fold up something like a carpenter’s rule, and when he gets up, he first straightens out one joint of the fore legs, then all of the hind legs, and finally, when the fore legs come straight, he is standing away up in the air. The extensive buildings of the American College were visited, also the American Press, the missionary headquarters of Presbyterians in America. On the third of October the Khedivial steamer _Assouan_ came along, and I embarked for Haifa, in Galilee.

CHAPTER IV.

A FEW DAYS IN GALILEE.

Years ago, when I first began to think of making the trip I am now describing, I had no thought of the many interesting places that I could easily and cheaply visit on my way to Palestine. I did not then think of what has been described on the foregoing pages. Now I have come to the place where I am to tell my readers the story of my travels in the Land of Promise, and I want to make it as interesting and instructive as possible. It is important to have a knowledge of the geography of all the lands mentioned, but it is especially important to know the location of the various places referred to in Palestine. These pages will be more profitable if the reader will make frequent reference to maps of the land, that he may understand the location of the different places visited. I shall first describe my trip across the province of Galilee, and take up my sight-seeing in Judaea in other chapters.

The ancient Phoenician cities of Tyre and Sidon were on the coast between Beyrout and Haifa, where I entered Galilee on the fourth of October, but we passed these places in the night. Haifa, situated at the base of Mount Carmel, has no Biblical history, but is one of the two places along the coast of Palestine where ships stop, Jaffa being the other. Mount Carmel is fourteen miles long, and varies in height from five hundred and fifty-six feet at the end next to the sea to eighteen hundred and ten feet at a point twelve miles inland. There is a monastery on the end next to the Mediterranean, which I reached after a dusty walk along the excellent carriage road leading up from Haifa. After I rested awhile, reading my Bible and guide-book, I walked out to the point where the sea on three sides, the beautiful little plain at the base of the mountain, Haifa, and Acre across the bay, all made up one of the prettiest views of the whole trip. Owing to its proximity to the sea and the heavy dews, Carmel was not so dry and brown as much of the country I had seen before.

By the direction of Elijah, Ahab gathered the prophets of Baal, numbering four hundred and fifty, and the prophets of the Asherah, four hundred more, at some point on this mountain, probably at the eastern end, passed on my way over to Nazareth later in the day. “And Elijah came near unto all the people, and said, How long go ye limping between the two sides? If Jehovah be God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him” (1 Kings 18:21). He then proposed that two sacrifices be laid on the wood, with no fire under them; that the false prophets should call on their god, and he would call on Jehovah. The God that answered by fire was to be God. “All the people answered and said, It is well spoken.” The prophets of Baal called upon him from morning till noon, saying, “O Baal, hear us. But there was no voice, nor any that answered. And they leaped about the altar that was made. And it came to pass at noon that Elijah mocked them, and said, Cry aloud; for he is a god: either he is musing, or he is gone aside, or he is on a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth and must be awaked. And they cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner with knives and lances, till the blood gushed out upon them. And it was so, when midday was past, that they prophesied until the time of the offering of the evening oblation; but there was neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regarded.” The sincerity, earnestness, and perseverance of these people are commendable, but they were _wrong_. Sincerity, although a most desirable trait, can not change a wrong act into acceptable service to God, nor can earnestness and perseverance make such a change. It is necessary both to be honest and to do the will of our heavenly Father. After water had been poured over the other sacrifice till it ran down and filled the trench around the altar, Elijah called on Jehovah, and in response to his petition “the fire of Jehovah fell, and consumed the burnt offering, and the wood, and the stones, and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench.” Elijah then took the false prophets down to the brook Kishon, at the base of the mountain, and killed them. Acre is the Acco of the Old Testament, and lies around the bay, twelve mile from Haifa. It is said that the Phoenicians obtained the dye called Tyrian purple there, and that shells of the fish that yielded it are yet to be found along the beach. Napoleon besieged the place in 1799, and used a monastery, since destroyed, on Mount Carmel for a hospital. After his retreat, Mohammedans killed the sick and wounded soldiers who had been left behind, and they were buried near the monastery. Acre was called Ptolemais in apostolic times, and Paul spent a day with the brethren there as he was on his way down the coast from Tyre to Jerusalem. (Acts 21:7.)

About noon I entered a carriage for Nazareth, in which there were four other passengers: a lady connected with the English Orphanage in Nazareth, and three boys going there to attend the Russian school. About two miles from Haifa we crossed the dry bed of the Kishon, as this stream, like many others in Palestine, only flows in the wet season. Our course led along the base of Carmel to the southeast, and the supposed place of Elijah’s sacrifice was pointed out. Afterwards Mount Gilboa, where Saul and Jonathan were slain, came in sight, and later we saw Little Hermon with Nain upon it, Endor below it on one side, and Jezreel not far away in another direction. We saw a good portion of the Plain of Esdraelon, and Mount Tabor was in sight before we entered Nazareth, which lies on the slope of a hill and comes suddenly into view.

Nazareth is not mentioned in the Old Testament, and the references to it in the New Testament are not numerous. When Joseph returned from Egypt in the reign of Archelaus, the son of Herod, he was afraid to go into Judaea, “and being warned of God in a dream, he withdrew into the parts of Galilee, and came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, that he should be called a Nazarene” (Matt. 2:19-23). I do not know the age of Jesus when Joseph and Mary came with him to Nazareth, but “his parents went every year to Jerusalem at the feast of the passover”; and we are told that the child was twelve years old at the time his parents missed him as they were returning from the feast, and later found him in the temple hearing the teachers and asking them questions. In this connection we are told that “he went down with them and came to Nazareth; and he was subject unto them” (Luke 2:51). Luke also informs us that Jesus, “when he began to teach, was about thirty years of age” (Luke 3:23). Thus we have a period of eighteen years between the incident in the temple and the beginning of his public ministry, in which Jesus resided in Nazareth. The greater part of his earth life was spent in this Galilean city, where he was subject unto his parents. It is a blessed thing that so much can be said of our Savior in so few words. It is highly commendable that children be subject unto their parents, who love them dearly, and who know best what is for their health, happiness, and future good.

After his baptism and temptation in the wilderness, “Jesus returned in the power of the spirit into Galilee, … and he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up: and he entered, as his custom was, into the synagogue on the Sabbath day and stood up to read.” When the roll of the Scriptures was handed to him, he read from the opening verses of the sixty-first chapter of Isaiah, then “he closed the book, and gave it back to the attendant, and sat down: and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fastened on him” as he told them: “To-day hath this scripture been fulfilled in your ears,” and although they “wondered at the words of grace which proceeded out of his mouth,” they were not willing to accept his teaching, and as he continued to speak, “they were all filled with wrath, … and they rose up, and cast him forth out of the city, and led him unto the brow of the hill whereon their city was built, that they might throw him down headlong. But he, passing through the midst of them, went his way. And he came down to Capernaum, a city of Galilee” (Luke 4:14-31).

Having made arrangements for a carriage the evening I arrived in Nazareth, before daylight the next morning I started to drive to Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee. When I went down stairs, at about half-past three o’clock, I found a covered rig with two seats, and three horses hitched to it side by side. I filed no objection to the size of the carriage, nor to the manner in which the horses were hitched. As the driver could not speak English and the passenger could not speak Arabic, there was no conversation on the way. As we drove out of Nazareth, I observed a large number of women at the Virgin’s Fountain, filling their jars with water. At a distance of a little more than three miles we passed through Kefr Kenna, the “Cana of Galilee,” where Jesus performed his first miracle. (John 2:1-11.) The road to Tiberias is not all smooth, but is better than might be supposed. With three horses and a light load, we were able to move along in the cool of the morning at a lively gait, passing a camel train, an occasional village, olive orchard, or mulberry grove. After a while the light of the moon grew pale, and about six o’clock the great round sun came above the horizon in front of us, and it was not long until a beautiful sheet of water six miles long–the Sea of Galilee–came suddenly into view. We rolled along the winding curves of the carriage road, down the slope of the hill, and through a gateway in the old wall, to Tiberias, on the west shore of “Blue Galilee.”

According to Josephus, Herod Antipas began to build a new capital city about sixteen years before the birth of Jesus, and completed it in A.D. 22. He named this new city Tiberias, in honor of the emperor, but it does not appear to have been a popular place with the Jews, and but little is said of it in the New Testament (John 21:1), yet it was not an insignificant place. The Sanhedrin was transferred from Sepphoris, the old capital, to the new city, and here the school of the Talmud was developed against the gospel system. The ancient traditional law, called the “Mishna,” is said to have been published here in A.D. 200, and the Palestinian Gemara (the so-called Jerusalem Talmud) came into existence at this place more than a century later. The Tiberian pointing of the Hebrew Bible began here. The present population is largely composed of Jews, about two-thirds of the inhabitants being descendants of Abraham. They wear large black hats or fur caps, and leave a long lock of hair hanging down in front of each ear. There is little in Tiberias to interest the traveler who has seen the ruins of Rome, Athens and Ephesus. The seashore bounds it on one side and an old stone wall runs along at the other side. I walked past some of the bazaars, and saw the mosque and ruined castle. About a mile down the shore are the hot springs, which, for many centuries, have been thought to possess medicinal properties. I tried the temperature of one of the springs, and found it too hot to be comfortable to my hand. As I returned to Tiberias, I had a good, cool bath in the sea, which is called by a variety of names, as “the sea of Tiberias,” “sea of Galilee,” “sea of Genessaret,” and “sea of Chinnereth.” It is a small lake, thirteen miles long, lying six hundred and eighty-two feet below the level of the Mediterranean. The depth is given as varying from one hundred and thirty to one hundred and sixty-five feet. It is really “Blue Galilee,” and the sight of it is an agreeable change to the eye after one has been traveling the dry, dusty roads leading through a country almost destitute of green vegetation. In the spring, when the grass is growing and the flowers are in bloom, the highlands rising around the sea must be very beautiful.

Several places mentioned in the New Testament were situated along the Sea of Galilee, but they have fallen into ruin–in some cases into utter ruin. One of these was Bethsaida, where Jesus gave sight to a blind man (Mark 8:22-26), and fed a multitude of about five thousand. (Luke 9:10-17.) It was also the home of Philip, Andrew, and Peter. (John 1:44.) It is thought by some that James and John also came from this place. On the northwestern shore was Chorazin, situated in the neighborhood of Bethsaida; also Capernaum, once the home of Jesus; and Magdala, the name of which “has been immortalized in every language of Christendom as denoting the birth-place of Mary Magdalene, or better, Mary of Magdala.” Safed is a large place on a mountain above the sea in sight of the Nazareth road, and was occupied by the French in 1799. It is said that the Jews have a tradition that the Messiah will come from this place. On the way back to Nazareth the driver stopped at the spring of Kefr Kenna and watered his horses and rested them awhile. Hundreds of goats, calves, and other stock were being watered, and I saw an old stone coffin being used for a watering trough.

After another night in Nazareth, I was ready to go out to Mount Tabor. For this trip I had engaged a horse to ride and a man to go along and show me where to ride it, for we did not follow a regular road, if, indeed, there is any such a thing leading to this historic place, which is about six miles from Nazareth. It was only a little past four o’clock in the morning when we started, and the flat top of the mountain, two thousand and eighteen feet above sea level, was reached at an early hour. Mount Tabor is a well-shaped cone, with a good road for horseback riding leading up its side. There is some evidence that there was a city here more than two hundred years before Christ. Josephus fortified it in his day, and part of the old wall still remains. According to a tradition, contradicted by the conclusion of modern scholars, this is the mount of transfiguration. By the end of the sixth century three churches had been erected on the summit to commemorate the three tabernacles which Peter proposed to build (Matt. 17:1-8), and now the Greek and Roman Catholics have each a monastery only a short distance apart, separated by a stone wall or fence. The extensive view from the top is very fine, including a section of Galilee from the Mediterranean to the sea of Tiberias.

In the Book of Judges we read that Israel was delivered into the hands of the Canaanites, and was sorely oppressed for twenty years. The prophetess Deborah sent for Barak, and instructed him with a message from God to the end that he should take “ten thousand men of the children of Naphtali and of the children of Zebulun” unto Mount Tabor. This he did, and Sisera assembled his nine hundred chariots “from Harosheth of the Gentiles unto the river Kishon. So Barak went down from Mount Tabor and ten thousand men after him. … Howbeit, Sisera fled away on his feet to the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber, the Kenite,” and she drove a tent-pin through his temples while he was lying asleep, (Judges 4:1-23.) The song of Deborah and Barak, beginning with the words, “For that the leaders took the lead in Israel, for that the people offered themselves willingly, bless ye Jehovah,” is recorded in the fifth chapter of Judges.

I was back in Nazareth by ten o’clock, and spent some hours looking