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CIHM/ICMH 
 
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 ft NEW ZKALAXI). K(,VI'T. J' VL- 
 
 "•'■'» K. CLARK, D.D.'iJ 
 
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 U)H'Si:.s Of UFL lA FAUOFF lImaS 
 
 ^B <Sffn C1)iou(jf, a mamau's Hues 
 
 .*^v:^i: 
 
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 *«pe<i,tip iUustvittcd 
 
 » . ANi. A MAI' ^ihiwisi, ruk wnioifa 
 
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/ 
 
 OUJl JOURNEY 
 
 AJU)LND THE WORLD 
 
 an Blusti-atrti lUrorti of a gear's rrabrl 
 
 '"•• KO.iiV 1H..,SAM, ,,„.,,s ,■...!.„•.... 
 
 iSlINL, (.UEECE, Tlh-KKV, ITALY, FKANCE, SPAIX, ,:,,. 
 
 Kev. FKANCrS E. CLARK, D.D TX 
 
 tlrc«.t,c,U cf tbr itlnilrft 5orirm of erf,r,.„a„ l£„6cal,ot ' *'^ 
 
 (JLDIPSES OF LIFE ]x\ FAR OFF Ss 
 
 as Srrn €:fjrougfj a momau's 3£prs , 
 
 Mrs. Harriet E. Clark ^ ' "^ -^l^^'^-V^"^' 
 
 JtxpcvbhT JUustvatjcxl 
 
 KifoM UKK . n4 rr rn^ I'noro.Mi.M.ns taken 
 
 Vl'Tv'. ;!., ^''^ '^^ FACSIMILE HV KMINEXT 
 Ai.KM.s; AM, A MAI- S,roW,X(i ti.K AUIHOU'S 
 
 JOLU.VEY AUOLXIJ JIIK WOULD 
 
 SOLD OXLY ItY SCBSVIUFTJON 
 
 HARTFORD, CONN. 
 A. D. WORTHTXGTO.X & CO., PUP.LISHER8 
 
 1894 
 

 Entered, according to Act of t'ongrcHH, in tlie year 1894, 
 
 Hy a. I). WoRTiiiNCiTON & Company, 
 
 In the Office of the Lil)rarian of Congress, at Washington, D. (', 
 
 tTO XmbOm ft flBaV> Concern : — Notice \9 herel)y given by the pnblishers that the 
 n.„c „. ^„T T. „ . , • . . *"'''■ "^ """ ''°"'<' ■' <JUR JOUKNEY AROUND 
 
 THE W ORLD," by subscription only, m piolected by decisions of the United States Courts. 
 These decisions are by the U. S. Circuit Court of Ohio, rendered by Judge Hammond, and by 
 the U. S. Circuit Court of Pennsylvania, rendered by Judge Butler, and are that " when u sub- 
 scription book publishing house, in connection with the author, elects to sell a book purely 
 by 8uhsa-ipt ion am\ doeagoseU i/, through agents that are agents in the legal senae and not 
 indfnetident piirrham's of the books, the house and author are entitled to the protection of 
 the Courts against any Iiookseller who invades their rights by an attempt to buy and sell a 
 book so published and sold." 
 
 Hence, this is to notify booksellers and the public that all our agents are under contract, 
 as our agents, to sell this book by subscription only. They have no right w haiever to sell it 
 ill any other way, as books are furnished to them only for delivery to individual subscribers; 
 and any interference with our agents to indnce them to sell contrary to their contract obliga- 
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 us to the protection of the Courts. 
 
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 WORLD " can be identifled wherever found together with the name of the agent to whom the 
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 ins of it tor sale by a bookseller will be sufficient justification for us to institute nummary 
 p-Lceedings against both bookseller and agent. 
 
 V/e trust this notice will be received in the kindly spirit in which it is given, as it is made 
 simply 10 protect the author, ourselves, and our agents against infringements which rob us of 
 the legitimate fruits of our labor and investment. 
 
 Ateiita and ail other jjersons are requested to inform us at once of the offering of this 
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 THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
DcWcateJ) 
 
 TO 
 
 ^bc jpatber an& asotbet 
 
 WHO 
 
 FOLLOWED THIS JOURNEY 
 
 WITH 
 
 LOVIXCi INTEREST AND EARNEST PRAYERS 
 
mf^^B 
 
 |IIIS l)(»(»k is ii ivcord of a long 
 joui'iH'V. siu'li as, owing to the 
 ])e('uli!n' rircinnstiincos attending 
 it, <l(H's not oj'tcii fall to the lot of 
 niiui to iMiikc. Till' ordinary trip 
 around the world — a common 
 I'liout'li tliiny,- in those davs — 
 largely follows certain well-de- 
 liiied routes of ti'avel from Amer- 
 ica to .lii[)an, China, India, Egyi)t, 
 Palestine, and thence to America 
 again, r/'</ Kui'o])e. The travelei' 
 necessarily is obliged to keej) in these lanes of travel, 
 es])ecially in the far East, and the oi)jects he sees are largely 
 those which the guide-hook and a ])aid conductor ])oint (Uit 
 to him. 
 
 In the journey described in thes(! ])ages we were '' ])er- 
 sonally conducted" hy kind fi'iends, familiar residents of 
 every countiy which we visited. We wei-e able to see 
 phases of life and national characte«'istics usually denied the 
 hasty traveler, and we have tried to share them with our 
 readers, and in our tour to conduct them over the same 
 route made so pl(>asant foi' us. 
 
 ( vii ) 
 
Vlll 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Some months before this journey began we received 
 numerous pressing and hearty invitations to visit ('hristiau 
 Endeavor conventions in the different colonies of Australia. 
 
 These invitations were supplonionted by many others 
 from missionaries and other residents in .lapaii, China, In<ha, 
 Turkey, Spain, France, and England. It was to attend 
 these conventions and to visit these mission stations that the 
 journey was undei'taken. At the same time, thougli the 
 conventions and other engagements were very numerijus. 
 leisure was afforded between the meetings for sight-seeing, 
 which was made doubly valuable by our kind and generous 
 hosts who served so often as our guides, ])iloting ns to tiie 
 very spots we wanted to visit, and showing us the oddities 
 and unique customs and ways of living which otherwise we 
 should have missed. They often took us into the homes of 
 the natives, and introduced us to their manner of domestic 
 life. 
 
 To these hosts and guides, v.-jiose kindness, if space })er- 
 mitted, I should like to acknowledge in detail, and whose 
 names I should like to record in full, is due anything of 
 special or unique interest that may be found in these pages. 
 
 Little is said about the special object of the journey, or 
 the scores of meetings we attended, or the many delightful 
 conventions in which we had ])art. The relation of the 
 journey to the Christian Endeavor movement has been dis- 
 cussed in other publications, and this volume is distinctly a 
 book of travel. 
 
 Yet, though it contains little moralizing, it is devoutly 
 hoped that these pictures of life and scenes in many lands 
 may create a warm interest in the heart of every reader in 
 the people to whom English-speaking missionaries have 
 gone, and in the noble work that these missionaries are 
 doing; and that these ])ictures may also illustrate the world- 
 
PREKACK. 
 
 IX 
 
 wide hi'otluM'liootl, jind IiIcssimI iiitoi'iiational juid interdeiioiiii- 
 national ft'llowsliip, of the ('lii'istiun Endoavor iiioveniont. 
 
 It only ivniains to Ix' said that tlie r. uiics of two of the 
 "|)ilfj^nnis" may Im' found upon the title pa<,'e, and that "the 
 little pilgrim" was a lad of thirteen, who, to say the least, 
 got quite as mueh fun out of the trip as did his father and 
 mother. 
 
 As may he imagined, the journey was not. by any means, 
 a mere holiday trip, though the holiday side of it is usually 
 ])resented in these ehajjters. 
 
 A suj)plementary chapter will give members of En- 
 (leavor societies, and others particularly interested, some 
 knowledge of the results of the journey ; while the addi- 
 tional chapters from the feminine ])ilgrim will show her sis- 
 ters some glimpses of life in far-olf lands, and tell how the 
 witle world looks throuii:h a woman's eves. 
 
 THU'i^^^ 
 
 S.,Cf^^^u^ 
 
Shown ill Red Lines on the Map. 
 
 FU()]\r I'oston to New York ; tlienco to Sun Francisco; 
 tliencc to Honolulu, Sandwich Islands; thence to 
 Samoa, Navigator's Islands; thence to Auckland, 
 Xew Zealand ; tlience to Sydney, Austi'alia ; thence by rail 
 to IVfel bourne and Adelaide, and return same way to Bris- 
 bane; from Brisbane by sea to Port Darwin; thence to 
 Hong Kong; thence by land to Canton, and return to Hong 
 Kong; thence to Yokohama; tlience by rail to Tokio ; 
 thence l)y rail to Kioto and Kobe; thence to Shanghai by 
 sea ; thence to Hong Kong again by water ; thence to Co- 
 lonUjo, Ceylon, through the Sti'aits of Sunuiti-a; thence to 
 Tuticorin, in Southern India; thence by rail to Madras; 
 thence liy water to Calcutta ; thence overland across North- 
 ern India, via Lucknow and Agra, to Bombay ; thence 
 across the Arabian Sea and through the Red Sea to Ismalia; 
 tlience l)y rail to C^airo; thence by rail to Alexandria; 
 thence l)y sea to Jaffa ; thence to Jerusalem and back to 
 .laffa by rail; thence by sea to Beyrout ; thence by sea to 
 ^[(M'sin ; thence overland through Turkey, through the 
 Cilician Gates, vvVv Ctesarea and Angora, to Constantinople; 
 thence by water to Athens; thence by rail to Patras; 
 thence by water to Brindisi ; thence by rail to Naples, 
 Rome, Genoa, and ^larseilles, to San Sebastian in Spain ; 
 thence to Paris, London, Glasgow, Belfast, and Dublin ; 
 thence to Liverpool ; thence to Queenstown ; thence to New 
 York. 
 
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 Kiigiiivi'd on Hlcfl by .loliii >(. t'lidc, fiDin ii I'li()t(i.i,'nii)li lukcii i-xpiossly f(>r thin work. 
 
 7 
 
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 <♦ 
 
 10 
 
 < )KN.\MKNTAI, llr.AniXO TO PUKKACK 
 
 OUNAMKXTAI, ImtIAI- LkTTKK 
 
 ENriKAVKO AlTOdUAVH OK FitANCIS E. Cl,AUK 
 
 TiiK Stkamsiup ^IaKH'OSA 
 
 OUNAMKNTAI, llK.ADINd TO iTlNKHAnY OK TIIK AlTUOU'S JOUUNEY, 
 
 Nkw Impkuiai, .Mat ok tiik Would ($ufP Cpa0e\ To face 10 
 
 Showing tlio AutliorV '•JonrncyArounil the World " from the bi'^inninKtolhc 
 end. (Kniinivi'd inid |)rinti'<l liy W. A A. K. .lolmston, Kdinburjili, Scotland, 
 fxpressly for this work.) 
 
 OkNAMK.NTAL IlKAOINCi TO LiST OK Im,L'STKATION8, 
 OlJNAMKNTAI, TaII, PiKCK 
 
 Ohnamkntal IIeadixo to Taiji.k ok Coxtknts, 
 Ornamental Headixo, ("hapteu I, 
 Ohxamental Initiai, Eettku, 
 Diaoham ok a Siikkkle-Hoaki), . 
 Ohnamkxtai, Tail Piece, . 
 
 OKXAMKXTAI. IxITIAI. TjETTKU, 
 
 Vouno Swimmers oy lloxoui.u, 
 Samoan Giui.s Making Kava, 
 Ai,L TitAT Remains ok the " Auler, 
 A Maori IIoi:se, .... 
 
 .'M.\oRi InoLS 
 
 Ornamentai, Tail Piece, . 
 <Jrxami:xtm. Ixitiai, [.etter, . 
 
 (xiii) 
 
 13 
 20 
 21 
 37 
 37 
 46 
 49 
 50 
 52 
 62 
 63 
 65 
 66 
 67 
 68 
 
XIV 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTUATIUNS. 
 
 PAUK. 
 
 7» 
 74 
 1 1 
 
 m 
 
 S4 
 
 «7 
 »(» 
 
 mi 
 
 104 
 10i> 
 
 111 
 
 114 
 115 
 
 122 
 
 MaLK AbOKKIINAI. ArSTKAMAN, .... 
 
 FE.MAI,K AllOKKlI.NAI, AlSTKAMAN, .... 
 
 Ahohkhnai, Mktikh) ok Pkoditincj Fiue, 
 
 In tiik Grounds ok Oovkkn.ment IIoubk, Sydney, 
 
 In the Bihii 
 
 Ounamental Tail Piece, • . 
 
 OiiNAMENTAii Initial Lettek, 
 
 In Adelaide, 
 
 OllNAMENTAL TAII. PiECE 
 
 OllNAMENTAL INITIAL LeTTEU 
 
 AllOUKlINAL ArSTUALIAN 
 
 In one ok MEi.itontNE's Pauks 
 
 Heady kou the Descent into a Gold Mink, 
 
 Ohnamental Tail Piece 
 
 Ornamental Initial [,etteu, 
 
 In a C'ohneu ok the Steehaoe Deck — Chinese Gambling on 
 Siiii'uoAKD. ( JufP Cbagc. From an instantaneous photograph.) 
 
 To face 
 
 S(|\ifitiinK oil tlu'ir linunclics in a corner of the stcernije deck was another 
 circle of C'liinese (Jamlileri*, tlirowing <lice and playing cardtt with a dexterity 
 acquired only by long experience. They were Hniol<ing cigarettes, or ciirionn 
 pipes with minute IkjwIx, wliich when not in use they tuclted behind their ears 
 until they decired another whiff. 
 
 Aboriginal Aistralian, 
 
 "Backy," "Hacky," 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letter, 
 
 A Young Citizen ok Port Dar\vin 
 
 A North Queensland Aboriginal, .... 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letter 
 
 A Chinese Forge, 
 
 A Chinese Execution. {From an instantaneous photof/rapJi.) 
 Placing the Head ok an Executed Criminal in a Basket. 
 
 {From an instantaneous photograph.) 
 
 Taking a Condemned Pir.vte to the Place ok Execution. 
 
 (Juff Cba0e. From an instantaneous photograph.) To face 1.5(> 
 
 PriHoners under eentonce of death wear bamboo yokes when they are taken to 
 the place of execution. The head of the prison<'r is placed l)etween two rigid 
 bamboo bars, one in front, and the other at the back of the neck, while two 
 shorter bars rest across the shoulders and fasten the long side bars together. 
 The headsman accompanies the procession to the Held of execution holding his 
 keen blade aloft, followed by a crowd of spectators. 
 
 Coolies Pumping Water kor Rice Fields, 15t> 
 
 Ornamental Tail Piece 163 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letter, 164 
 
 Fishing with Cormorants 16^ 
 
 Prisoners in a Canton Jail 171 
 
 Ornamental Tail Piece, 178 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letter 17ft 
 
 125 
 13» 
 131 
 13.> 
 136 
 US- 
 151 
 15.5 
 
 15tt 
 
LIST OF Il.IA'STRATIOXS. 
 
 XV 
 
 I'AOE. 
 
 On tiik Pkaui, Rivkh, , 184 
 
 OKNAMKNTAI, TaII, I'IKCK, 19<) 
 
 OllNAMENTAL ImTIAI, LkTTKU, 191 
 
 DuESH OK .Iai'anksk Womkn, suowino tiik Olll 301 
 
 A HuuAi, ScKNK IN .Iatan, 202 
 
 A Tea Duinkeu's Fakadike— Oatiieiuno the Chop on a Tea 
 Plantation. ($uff CpagC. From an inntantaneoun jihvtograph.) 
 
 To face 20."> 
 
 The long rows of ten pliintH look like the tMincheo of l)ox willi which the 
 borders <if old-fiiKhiiiiK'd lliiwcr n'^'htif were once made, only the ten pl.mln are 
 much larger. When the crop Is matured the lea garden Ih full of pIckerH, imlivu 
 men and women in hright coHtnmeH working oide hy Hide. 
 
 OllNAMENTAI, TaII, PiECE, 205 
 
 Oknamentai, Initiaj, Letter, 20B 
 
 In Wintku Costume, 211 
 
 A Native Japanese Giust Mii.i.. (Juff (llCiQt. From an inttan- 
 
 taneous photograph.) . . . .' . . . To face 215 
 
 One c(K)lie threshes tlie rice straw over the Iron teeth of a primitive thiil whlcli 
 looks like a car|)enter's wooden liorse, while another winnows the grain hy pour- 
 ing it over a rude sieve, allowing tlie wind to hlow away the chaff ; while still 
 another coolie grinds the rice in a mill laboriously turned l)y hand. 
 
 A Japanese Fucit Stoiie 216 
 
 Japanese Umhuei.la Makers 217 
 
 L\ A JaP.VNESE liAKIiEH SlIOP, 219 
 
 The Villainous Daikon 222 
 
 The Baiiy in Japan. (Juff Cpage. From an instantaneous photo- 
 graph.) To face 225 
 
 Sometimes the baby has another doll baby on its back, and I have actually 
 seen a small doll on the big dolTs back, a big doll on the small boy's back, and 
 a small boy on his big brotlier"s back ; four generations, as it were, together. 
 
 A Japanese Peasant, 226 
 
 A JlNUIKISHA, 228 
 
 Ounamental Initial Lettek 230 
 
 DioNiKiED Damsels at Tea 231 
 
 A J.VPANESE Ceremonial Tea — The TiiiRTY-THiRn Decree ov 
 Exquisite Politeness. (Juff Cbage. From an instantaneous 
 
 photograph.) To face 23a 
 
 For three hundred years the "Ceremonial Tea" lias been an institution of 
 Japanese life, and ceremonial tea making is taught in Ilu? modern schools of the 
 government, as it is thought to give dignity and grace and a kind of solemn 
 lesson in etiquette. It is impossible to describe the [jreciseness, suavity, and 
 dignified solemnity with which every movement is performed. 
 
 In a Bamboo Forest 23{> 
 
 G.\THERiNG the Tea Crop . . 240 
 
 In the Land of the Japonica, 242 
 
 Entrance to Nagata Temple, Kore, 245 
 
 A Japanese Idol and Temple, 246 
 
 A Buddhist Shrine 248 
 
XVI 
 
 LIST <»K MIASTKATlONS. 
 
 An Inland Vii.i.aok 
 
 A Waysidi; SiiitiNK 
 
 A .Iai'anks!-; Kakmku 
 
 .Iai'anksi: AcKoiiATs 
 
 OHNAMKNTAI, InITIAI, I.KTTKIt 
 
 A ('iriNi;si.; |{i( k Mim 
 
 A CuiNKsK 1'ai'kk :\Iii,i 
 
 " IIlTTINfi TIIK PlI'i;," 
 
 Oril M FlKNDS 
 
 A liKI'KU (fllll. OK SlIANdllAI 
 
 A JirVKNll.K ClIINKSK ( )iicm;sTitA, 
 
 OlJNAMKNTAI, ImTIAI, LkTTKU 
 
 SaCHKI) WlIITK OXKN 
 
 The 15ii,i,()( k Cakt, 
 
 TnK Famois Haskkt Thick 
 
 OllNAMKNTAI, INITIAL LkTTKI! 
 
 Nativks ok Soi tiikkn India 
 
 A NaTIVK ViLLAdK OF SoiTlIKHN InDIA, . 
 
 Ji;\vp:ls ok India, 
 
 <4llINDIN(i CriiUY, 
 
 Oknamkntal Tail I'liuK, 
 
 OUNAMKNTAL LmTIAL I.KTTKlt 
 
 A Band ok Nativk Indian Jioglkus and Snaks Cuakmkks. 
 (Suffrage. From an inntantaneoiis phutogmph.) To face 
 
 "If this snnki' should liitc yoii," said one of these Keiitry, at the same thne 
 opeiinif,' OIK! of the baskets, "you will die In llfteen minutes. If this one 
 should bile you," opeidnt; another basket, " you will die in ten niiiuites." Open- 
 ing still another basket, he remarked eoolly, '• If he should liile you. you will die 
 In live minutes." and still another basket was ojiened with the hlood-eurdlini; 
 unnouncenient, " If this snake should bite you. you will die in one minute." 
 
 TlIlO GUEAT Temi'le ok Madi'ha 
 
 The Painted Cohuidou in the Temple ok Maduha, . 
 
 The Sacked Tank ok Madtua 
 
 Inteuiou ok the Gheat I'.u.ACE OK :\Iaduua 
 
 The Sacked Bi'll of Siv.v 
 
 Weaveks in the Stkei:ts ok jMadkas 
 
 Child on a I-eak of the Victokia I^eoia, 
 
 The Poi'ulah .Madhas Hint 
 
 A Wedding Pkocjession in India, (fuff ^age. Fi'om an inxtm,- 
 laneoiiH photograph.) To face 
 
 Three silent treading, knock-kneed, rassred oumels led the way, covered with 
 bright clotlis and much tinsel. There seeme<l to be little life or merriment 
 iibout the procession, and I i)resume the poor youni.^ jriil wlio was fioini; to the 
 home of her aijod husband, whom, perhaps. s\w, has never seen, fell as luelan- 
 choly as the solemn procession seemed to hidicute. 
 
 '!Bhatty" Making 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letteu 
 
 A Calcutta Bakhek Siior 
 
 I'AdK. 
 
 340 
 350 
 3511 
 253 
 357 
 268 
 205 
 267 
 368 
 370 
 371 
 379 
 380 
 383 
 387 
 394 
 399 
 801 
 808 
 804 
 310 
 811 
 
 317 
 
 318 
 319 
 330 
 331 
 833 
 338 
 329 
 330 
 
 330 
 
 333 
 335 
 338 
 
LIST (»K 11,1-1 STKATIONS. 
 
 XVll 
 
 A iiiNHf Fakiii • ;wy 
 
 A Ii«»N<i-ll.\iui;i) rvKiit ;m<> 
 
 TlIK IJrUMNd (JllAT •IV-i 
 
 A Tow Kit <»l' SlI.KNCK, ;U"> 
 
 A Hindi' IJuinK . . ;M» 
 
 A ZkNAN.V C'AUUIAdK OK BoMllAY •l>\ 
 
 OllNAMKNTAI, TaII, I'iKt'K Jl.VJ 
 
 OUNAMKNTAI, ImTIAI, Lr.TTKIt, , . . ... :>.">:i 
 
 A Nativk "TrKNoiT," '.\'>ii 
 
 In tiik Monkky Tk.mim.k, U.W 
 
 .MosiilK Ol' TIIK GllKAT I.MAMItAUA, F,l ( KNOW lUJS 
 
 TiiK Taj Maiiai ims 
 
 OllNAMKNTAI, InITIAI, hKTTKIt IJTO 
 
 In tiik Sikz ("anai ;{74 
 
 DoNKKY Hoy ok Ih.mama UTT 
 
 On tiik Banks ok tiik Nii.k :^7!> 
 
 A Nativk Koyptian S( iiooi.. (5uff CP^S^- ^'''""' "" i'<xfiin(nn(- 
 
 ous pholof/raph.) . . To fare liHU 
 
 An Kiiyptiaii school is a {'iiiiosiiy. 'I'lu' pupil,- •^il (ni llu' Moor, hIikIv lliiir 
 IcfHoiiH iiIoikI, rockiiii^ buck and forth, niid tlicy make llic mIiooIiciomi about as 
 lioiny aM a ward p(plili<'al iiicclin};. i t^cni'rally kiww where a hclioohnoin was al 
 U'ast hair a tiiiiiiiti' lictnrc I n'achcil itn iloorH. Tlie iriaslcr h<|iiatH on the lloor. 
 or staudn ainon^'his pupils, who aiv ccati'il inrowwor proniiscnoiisly scaltt'icd 
 Ihroii^'li the rrsi of the apartment. 
 
 Watku C'akuikks Fii.i.ino tiikiu Go.vt Skins ;>m8 
 
 OUNAMENTAI, InITIAI, LkTTKH ;i!»0 
 
 Ukkoue a Caiho Cokkkk IIoisk. (Suff CpCigC. From an instanta- 
 neous photonrujih.) To face iV.tO 
 
 The stnint;(' iM'oplc, the ciiriouH eostiiiiiec, tlie iinfaiiiiliar erics in llie street. 
 the <liaraeterislie erowd of all sorts and conditions of nipn in front of eacli 
 colTee lioiise, tlie sirantre manners and ciistoins of the ha/.aur, all furnislu'd ma- 
 terial for many days of deli;,'hl in the capital of K^iypl. 
 
 Stkkkt ]\IrsKiANs AND Danckus OK Caiuo 30;} 
 
 PUAYIN<i IN TIIK StHKKTH OK CaIUO, 3U4 
 
 Latticko Windows, Caiko, ;{9."> 
 
 Si;(iAi{-('ANK and Fiuit Ski.i.kiis ok Caiko 397 
 
 Shoe Pkddi.ku ok Caiko ;{'.»!• 
 
 A Bkdoiin P'a.mii.y on a .Tovunky 4(>1 
 
 In tiik Bn.AK ^NIiskim 404: 
 
 MU.MMY OVKK TlIHKE TlIOCSAND YEAUS Oi.D, OK SkTHI I, FaTIIKK 
 OK RaMKSKS II, — TIIK PlIAK.\OII WHO OlM'KKSSKD TIIK ClIII.- 
 
 DUEX OK Ishaki,. (Suff CpCi0C. Pi'om a special pliotograph.) 
 
 ' To face 409 
 
 Look into that ghiss case. There, in that royul K'hled coftln, lies a slirunken, 
 withered niiimniy. The lower limbs are yet wrapped in the cerements of the 
 Rrave, but, the nuked skull is still i)erfect and visible. The loiifj hooked Roman 
 nose, the deep sunken eyeballs, the heavy s(nnire jaw, tell of the warrior and the 
 tyriint. There is Moses' i)layfellow. For more than three thousand three hiin- 
 drc<l years he lay silent in tlie earth, until at last the mighty secret of hi.s burial 
 place was discovered, his roffln was opened, and he was found to tell us the 
 story of the awful oppression and tyranny which he inaugurated so many centu- 
 ries ago. 
 
XVlll 
 
 LIST OK ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Hamkhkh II 
 
 I-AIIE. 
 
 FiiM, Lknotii Vik.w <>y Mimmy ok Kincj PiiAnA<tii 
 
 (the I'/iiirdiih of the 0]>})remon,) 4(>0 
 
 WllKUK TIIK MlMMY <»K I'ilAltAOlI WAM FolNI),— EnTUANIK TO 
 
 TIIK Td.MII 411 
 
 I'uoKii.K OK Kino I'iiakaoii 412 
 
 FUONT ViKW OK I'llAKAOH IMMKUIATELY AKTEH UNWINDING THE 
 
 Md.MMY, 41!J 
 
 OUNAMKNTAI, TaII. PiKCR 416 
 
 OUNAMKNTAI, IniTIAI, LkTTEH 417 
 
 The Oueat Pyhamiiw 41U 
 
 TiY THE RoADSIDK IN KoYl'T 422 
 
 A S» KNK ON TIIK Nll.K 428 
 
 TiiK Fmoiit Down the Pyuamid 481 
 
 The Sphinx 483 
 
 Ounamentai, Taii, Piece 484 
 
 Ohnamentai, Initial Letteh 485 
 
 A»i)Ai,i,Aii, Orii DitAdoMAN 444 
 
 Ounamentai, Initiai, Lettku 447 
 
 Jeuuhalem and the SntiutuNoiNU CouNTHY. (Juff Gpci0e. f^om 
 
 a special photograph.) To face 448 
 
 There HfaiiclM (he city proiiilly on ilM hills ax nf yore. Jt hiin withntowl tho 
 decay Df ci'iitiiricH, the "tiaiiiu of coiKiiu'tiiin ariiiU-H, and the deHtriictUm that 
 I'oini's hi thf wakf of war and iH'Hiilcncc and (•on(ini'nt. lie rnuHl he dull indt'iil 
 who looks on .Jci'iisaUin for tlio ilrnt time unmoved, as bo rumembers all that 
 has (H'ciirrfd wiiliiii those tiinestained walls. 
 
 BEtitiiNo Deuvishes, Jekusalem, 455 
 
 A Water Cahuieu 458 
 
 Ounamentai. Taii, Piece 468 
 
 Ounamentai- Initial Letter 469 
 
 A Street in Jerusalem 470 
 
 Absalom's Tomb 477 
 
 A Bedouin Dinner Party. (5uff CfJage. t^om an instuntanemis 
 
 photograph.) To face 480 
 
 As we neared tho villaf;e we passed a group of ragged, filthy, Hore-eyed six-cl- 
 mens of humanity, scinatting on the ground ntmr an old dilapidated tont where 
 the^ had l)een lazily naskini; in the sunshine, Thev were engaged in the inter- 
 estmg task of simultaneously extending their dirty hands into the one and only 
 dish that contained their food. 
 
 A Bedouin Woman, 483 
 
 Rachel's Tomb 484 
 
 A Girl of Judea 486 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letter 488 
 
 The Mosque ok Omar, 491 
 
 Wailing Place of the Jews 501 
 
 Ornamental Initial Letter, 504 
 
 The Famous Cedars ok Lebanon. (Juff CpAge. Froni a special 
 
 photograph) To face 506 
 
 The grove here sliown is supposed to have furnished the timber for Solomon's 
 Temple, as recorded in the OhI Testament. It is now called "The Grove of the 
 Lord," and in It arc three hundred and nhiety-three trees ; of these only twelve 
 .ire of any great size, an,! they have received the name of "The Twelve 
 Apostles " from a tradition that Christ once visited this spot with his Apostles, 
 who planted their staves, which grew into these goodly cedars. 
 
LIST OK M.LISTKATIONS. 
 
 xix 
 
 <nlllotl), 
 
 DitrxK KiiMM MncNT Lkhanon, . 
 
 Oril Tl IIKISII I'.VSHI'OKT 
 
 A HviiivN Woman «>k thk Lowku C'i.ahh, 
 A SviiiAN Woman ok tiik Ukttkii ('i,ah«, 
 Oni liiKK I'uKHKiivKU (FufMimiteofuiirlliiui/ind 
 
 OUNAMKNTAI, TaII, PiKCK 
 
 OlINAMKNTAI, ImTIAI. liKTTKIt, . 
 
 A Sim- OK TitK Dkskut 
 
 Nativk Iviii'itDs OK Asia Minoii, 
 
 A SVKIAN Pon.TKY SKr,I,KII. 
 
 An K\< itino Momknt — Oru Hidk acuo.ss Tuhkky in a W 
 
 (Suff ^a0e.) 
 
 PAOI. 
 
 rm 
 
 517 
 
 5a'j 
 
 Ml 
 
 VOON. 
 
 To fare TiIW 
 
 SiiiiictiiiirK ilic rickety waK<»i would «wny iwrllnuxly on the verge of a rocky 
 |)rc('i|iii'c. oftt'ii we Wdiilil think llmt It wnx lU'timlly k«Ii>K over, itiiii would 
 c'lilrli our liri'iith ax we fxpcclcd to nee wu^'oii, liorHcx, uiid driver tiuiiblc Into (he 
 terrible iiliyKs. 'I'lieii the driver would throw hIniHelf from Hide to nlde of the 
 wii);on to ke<-|i It from toppllni; over, und the reHt of no would throw our weight 
 on that Hide to prevent the threatcnu<l cututttropho. 
 
 MiNSKI.MAN AT PitAYKH 
 
 TnK Cam. ok tiik iMirKZZiN, 
 
 OHNAMKNTAI, InITIAI- liKTTKH, . 
 
 ^Mosi^rK OK Ki. AzAH 
 
 SiDKWAi.K Mkiiciiants, Conhtantinople, . 
 St. Soi'iiia. Tiik Mauvelol's, . 
 A WiiiHMNo Dkuvisii, .... 
 A TiHKisii Hkaity 
 
 A Tl UKIrtll WO.MAN 
 
 A SiM/rAN'H ToMn 
 
 OUNAMENTAt, INITIAI, LeTTEH, . 
 OUNAMKNTAI, ImTIAI, LkTTEU, . 
 
 Okna.mentai, Taii, Piece 
 
 PoiiTUAiT OF Mits. IIahuikt E. Clahk (Juff Cbage), 
 Okna-mkntai, IIeadino to Intiioduction, 
 Okna.mentai- Initial Lettek to Inthoduction, 
 Enohavei) AiTotiiiAPii OK IIauhiet E. Clauk, 
 Ounamentai, Initiai, Letter, . 
 
 OhN AMENTA!, TaII. PiECE 
 
 Oknamental Initial Letter, . 
 
 A .Iai'anehe Mother 
 
 A JAr.\NE8K Maiden 
 
 Carriage Ridino in .Iapan — A Jinrikisha Man in His Rain 
 Cloak. (Stiff Cbage. From an instantaneous photograph.) 
 
 To face 
 Thus thulched, our jlnrlkit*ha man lookeil almoBt like an animated haystack. 
 Ills i-nln cloak covered him almost from head to heels. In the crowded Htreets 
 he was continually shouting at the top of his voice, " Hi-hi " which may be 
 translated info English, I supponO, as " Look out there," " Get out of the way," 
 ill order to clear a passage for our little procession. 
 
 To face 
 
 543 
 544 
 545 
 555 
 55«J 
 557 
 559 
 562 
 56,5 
 566 
 568 
 582 
 590 
 59;j 
 593 
 593 
 593 
 595 
 602 
 603 
 605 
 606 
 
 606 
 
XX 
 
 1, 1ST OF IhMSTUATIONS. 
 
 •Tai'ankhk Rkkiikhiimk.nth. , 
 Wahiiimi Day in .Iai'an. . 
 Sthkkt Ciiii.nuKN UK Japan, 
 
 OUNAMKNTAI, TAri, I'lK« K, . 
 
 ()hna.mi;mai, iMTiAr. Lkitkh, 
 
 COLOMIIO ('llll.DItKN, 
 
 A IIai'I'y Miiiiii.il, 
 
 I'lTlKI I. lilTTI.K CUKAIIItKS, 
 OlJNAMKNTAI, ImTIAI, LKITKII, 
 OllNAMKNTAI, TaII. PiK* K, . 
 OllNAMKNTAI, INITIAL lil.TTIlt, 
 Ooou NU»HT, 
 
 I'AliK. 
 Itll 
 
 <w» 
 
 (Mil 
 61T 
 (US 
 (iU) 
 
 mr, 
 
 fi:t:. 
 
 U41 
 
 ^Qtd 'l^inuKu' of jiiluiMratioiij?, jjo 
 
VMiT.. 
 (lit 
 
 tir.» 
 (lt:( 
 nir, 
 um 
 
 61T 
 
 . (UH 
 
 (i'j."» 
 fi;{."» 
 (i:i)i 
 041 
 
 
 [i^as^'^'^i^^^K^ 
 
 CIIAI'TKI: I. 
 ovn s'lAirr i.iri; on an ockan sti:ami;i{. 
 
 The JoiiriifV Ijcirnii — l);iily l.ilV on an Ocean Slcaimr— Alwiiysjoiiincy- 
 inir llniiicwaril — Willi is " We " — Talvinji' ilir Header into mir Coii- 
 li,|,.|,,.,. — .\ |»ailinK I-odk — '(iod lie uilli Von till We Meet Auain " 
 
 — The •' .)/iirii)()Kii" — Our Fellow I'asM'nizci's - (Janililinjr on Ship- 
 hoanl — Heltin.L' on the Day's l{nii — Where lo read " I'enny Dread- 
 fuls" — j.nrd I'danU and hi> (Jnardian — One Day on a I' '■ilic Steamer 
 
 — A Klexilile Hath mil — Somethintr of which there is Knonifh- At 
 the Dinner 'I'alile — Si^hinir for ilonieinade ilread and iJnIter — 
 Wanted. Milk I'rnni a Cow instead of t'roiii a Tin Can — Mrs. Hnslonesc 
 Brains — The Tramp, tramp, tramp nl ihc I'asM'niXi'fs — Hiiijl-Toss and 
 Slinllle U( ird — Sundav on thv ( (ceaii, ".JT 
 
 CIIAPTKK II. 
 
 ACMtOSS Tin: I'ACIKIC ()(1:AN— SA>[OA AND THE SAMOANS— 
 
 m;\v zkai.ands urtjcKD siioiu's. 
 
 'I'lie .loys of 'JVrrn /■'irnin — The I'layuronnd of Amerieii — Hewilderiiii;- 
 V'ejjetation — ISrown skimwMl Divers — l{iim and Missionaries — 'I'eii to 
 One — The l-'iitnre of the Hawaiian — Onr Departure — "■ l-'ire. Fire" 
 
 — IJelween the Flames ami the Sea — An Fxcitin.i,' Race for Lift — 
 Tile NavifTiitors Islands — The First (Jlimpse — The Samoans as Nature 
 Made Them — Stalwart »)arsmen — On Slioic A, train —Costumes not 
 from I'aris— iJaliies in IJrown Coats — The (Jreat Event of the Month 
 
 — A Splendid l{ace — The Salihatli Day Holy in Samoa — A Kini^^ly 
 Homanci — A Koyal Salary — Ta|)pa and Kava — An Aiijietizinu' Fro- 
 ce.ss — Far<'well to the Oasis — An Awful Storm — A ]\Iournfid Spectre 
 
 — Our Frolicsome Comiianions — A Week without a Weilnesday — An 
 Exag,i,'erateil Enir|ish Channel — New Zealand's Stern and KniiLied 
 Shores — (Joodliye Mtiriiiomi ' .")(» 
 
 ( xxi ) 
 
XXll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CIIAPTKIi iir. 
 
 OUR WELCOME TO A NEW CONTINENT — FIRST I.MPKKS- 
 SIONS OF AUSTRALIA. 
 
 A New Continent — A Magnitiecnt Harbor — Torres' Mistake — The 
 Fligiit of the Dove — " Tlio P^ndeavor" — An Important Astronomi- 
 cal Diseovery — A Vast Nouli's A-ii — Great Grandfatiier Animals — 
 Tlie Huslinian and His Fate — Wiiat the Savage could not do — Un- 
 certain Rain and Certain Drouglil — Anstralian Oddities — Confused 
 Trees — Topsy-Tnrvyness — Preconceived Notions — The Englishman 
 the World Over — The Evolution of the Yankee Drawl — Colonial 
 Days — " The Great American Desert " — Mother and Daughter — How 
 the Old Lad}' Treats Her Child — English or American — Architectural 
 Differences — Big Names — ' ' Elevator " or " Lift " — " Barber's Shop " 
 " Tonsorial Palace" — American Inventions in Australia — The Homo 
 of Anarchy and Unrest — Country Life reriois City Life — The " Bluey" 
 and the " Billy " — The " Larrikin " — A "New Chum " — Modesty Be- 
 coming a Literary New Chum, G8 
 
 CHAPTER iy„ 
 
 AUSTRALLV AND AUSTRALIANS — INTERESTING MATTERS 
 ABOUT A GREAT COUNTRY — ITS LIFE, ITS CUSTOMS, 
 ITS SCENERY^ AND ITS PEOPLE. 
 
 The Houses the People Live in — Stone Instead of Wood — An Eijglish- 
 man's Castle — Plenty of Soil — " Strathroy " versus " 1229 E. 341 St." 
 — "Bacchus, Cestus, Festus" — How They Travel — The Railways — 
 Inside the House — At the Dinner Table — A Pleasant Custom — 
 Scarcity of Cold Water — The Newspapers — Sometimes Dull but 
 Seldom Sensational — Some Budding Poets — Specimen of Obituary 
 Poetry — Outdoor Life — National Games — A Mighty Curse — The 
 Turf Adviser — The Totalisator — Church Life — Great Conventions — 
 The Singing — Cable Absurdities — A Mexican Invasion — Kissing his 
 Wife on the Street — Gum-chewing Girls — Chicago Girls and Boston 
 Maidens — Introducing Friends 85 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 AUSTRALIA THROUGH AMERICAN EYES — OUR VISIT TO A 
 GOLD MINE — RISKING LIFE FOR A FRIEND. 
 
 An Early Definition — A " Personsdly Conducted " Trip — A Peaceful Land 
 — One of its Neighbors — Australia's Only Battle — The p]ureka Stock- 
 ade — Uuwarlike Weapons — Hot, Hotter, Hottest — Summer the Pre- 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XXIU 
 
 LKS- 
 
 )nomi- 
 imls — 
 
 — Uii- 
 iifuscd 
 ishman 
 olonial 
 
 — How 
 ectural 
 Shop " 
 
 • Home 
 Bluey" 
 isty lie- 
 
 .TTERS 
 5T0MS, 
 
 Eiiglish- 
 341 St." 
 ilways — 
 Instom — 
 )ull but 
 )bituary 
 Ise — The 
 mtions — 
 Jssing his 
 Id Boston 
 85 
 
 TO A 
 
 jful Land 
 
 L'ka Stock- 
 
 tUe Pre- 
 
 vailing Season — Hugged and 'Pattered Trees — A Eucalyptus Country 
 
 — .'Many " Botany Bays" — Imported I'ests — A Pugnacious Little 
 Briton — One of Australia's Expensive Problems — The (Jcnlle, IVace- 
 iMvinu: Mear — The Kangaroo and the Emu — The Kangaroo's Small 
 IJrolher — The Laughing Jackass — A Land of Cities— Tales of Politi- 
 cal Corruption — An E.xploded Boom — .Mell)ourne the .Magnificent — 
 Sydney the Picturesipie — A(lelai(Ui the f^ovely — Ballarat the (Jolden 
 
 — Down in a (}(-ld .Mine — Getting Heady to Descend — In IMotley 
 Array — The Cage — Brave Women — United We Drop — Suppose ! — 
 Evervthing hut Oold — A Brave Miner — Risking liife for a Friend- 
 
 That Man was a Christian, 
 
 lUO 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE C7//A7;7'r— AN INTERESTING VOYAGE 
 IN STRANGE COMPANY — IN THE GOLD FIELDS OF 
 AUSTRALIA. 
 
 Beginning Our Log-book — Mrs. Pilgrim's Resolve — The Cldngtu — A 
 Unique and Unusual Journey — Our Steamer — Our Stewards — 
 "Loast Beef," "Olange Flittels" and "Lice Cakes" — Preparing for 
 Hot Weather — Our Fellow Passengers — Life in the Steerage — Mr. 
 Ah See and his Wives — Mrs. Ah See Number One — Photographing 
 the Family — The Ruler of the Roost — The Black Fellows — Ce- 
 lestials Returning Home — Taking Home Their Own Bones — The 
 Chinaman at Dinner — A Race of Squatters — The Fan-tan " Laj'out " 
 —Chinese Pas.sion for Gambling — Within the Barrier Reef — "White 
 Man. He too Salt" — Glittering Gold Fields — How Gold was Discov- 
 ered in Australia — Nash and His " Find " — " Welcome Strangers" — 
 Gold on Brogans — The Romance of the Morgan Mine — A Visit from a 
 Native Bushman- " Backy. Backy, Backy" — White Ant Hills- 
 Wrecked on a Coral Reef —Thursday Island 115 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 THROUGH LITTLE KNOWN COUNTRIES -LIFE IN THE MA- 
 LAY ARCHIPELAGO — A BATTLE WITH A SNAKE. 
 
 All the Days of the Week — A Convenient Nomenclature — A Diet of Sea 
 Worms- Trade in Bloodsuckers — Reminiscences of My Boyhood — A 
 Hideous Delicacy — The Pearl Fishery — Plums in the Pudding — The 
 Pearl Diver's Equipment — A Short i)ut not a Merry Life — A Baking 
 Day and Steamy Night — The Aborigines — In the Celebes Sea — The 
 Connecticut of the South Sea — The Nutmeg at Home — The Possibili- 
 ties of a Ball of Twine — How the Bride Wore the Trousers — Euro- 
 
 M 
 
XXIV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 pean ClotlifS niul Civilization — A Snake Story — An I'liwclconiP 
 Guest— Di.sloduin,:,' liis Scipcnlsliii) — A IJattlc with a I'ytlioii — Tiie 
 Spicy UrcfZcs — Tiic Xol)lc Work of tiie .Missionary — llow tiic Ciiicl' 
 Took tlic Census — At Ilis Wit's Kiid — A SJuewd {{ajah — Some 
 I'asseuu'crs — Some Memliers ot' tiie Feline 'i'rilie — The Tale of Tor- 
 toise-shell Tommy 131 
 
 ClIAPTKU Yin. 
 
 OUR ARRIVAL IX CHINA — L'XFAMIIJAR SKHITS AND 
 NOVEL EXPKRl KXCES — CHI XESE EXECUTIONS -CH IN ESE 
 FARMS AND FARMERS - DOMESTIC LIFE. 
 
 Cosmoiiolitan Iloiiii- Konir — Tlu; Calmieii of the Orient — A Ride in a 
 Sed:in Chair — I'plifted in S])irit — Sidewalk Shojis — Pennsylvania Oil 
 in China — -Fairyland under the L:nUerns — Incense OlVcrings to the 
 (lods — X'ovcl Siuhls and Scenes — Oriental Sharpers — I'nblushing 
 Swindlers — 'I'obou'^fan Sjidiiiii' — All Aboard for Canton — .lustice 
 Swift and Severe — E.xi'cutions in China — Heads Chopped olT with 
 Neatness and Despatch — The River (Jod at the Prow — The luiti^htiit — 
 River Robbers and Pirates — A Fioatinu,' Arsenal — The Rice Harvest — 
 Threshinii; Out the liice — '"Chinaman Makee (How "—Three Crops in 
 a Season — Water HutTaloes — Chi-istianity and Butter — l'[) the Pearl 
 River — Junks and Flower Boats, Sampans and Slipper Boats — The 
 lli^lh Road of Canton — A Novel Pontoon Bridire — A Family Picture 
 — Caulonese Jade — Oil" in u Sampan, . . 14S 
 
 niAPTKli IX. 
 
 IN CANTON TIIE CROWDED — CHINA AND TIIE CHINESE. 
 — CURIors SCENES AMONCJ A CURIOUS PEOPLE — IN 
 TIIE TEMPLE OF HORRORS. 
 
 Ah Cum, Jr. — A Courteous and Faithful (iuide — Aimless Wanderinfj; — 
 Tiie Birthday of the Fire God — Turning' out for a Sedan chair — Close 
 (Quarters — A Citj' of Temiiles — Street.s with Oihl Names — " Lon- 
 jrcvity Lane " — " Ileaveidy Pea( c Street " — A Changinjj; Panorama — 
 Outrageous Odors — A Pestilential Place without Pestilence — A Puz- 
 zle for our Doctors — People who Nevci- Heard of a I'lumber — Tlie 
 Live Fish ]\Iarket — Candy Stands — How .Much can you Buy for a 
 Casli V — Going to ^larket in Corea — A Royal Present — Juvenile 
 Curiosity — That Little "Foreign Devil" — The Cat and Dog Meat 
 Store — The Original of the Willow Pattern — The Five Hundred 
 Buddliists — Marco Polo among the Gods — Lugubrious Buddhist 
 Priests — Worshiping the Gods of Good Luck and Prosperity — 
 Business-like ^lethods of Worship — The Temple of Horrors— A 
 
fONTEXTS. 
 
 XXV 
 
 Necklaii' of Extracted Tectli — Soiiu- of tlic Toi-tii res — Sawing a 
 Man in Two — Boili'il in Oil — I'unisiiincnts <>( the iJuiJilJiist Hell — 
 The Kxaniiiiatiun Hall — A I'athelic SpL'ctack- 104 
 
 r'lIAI'TKK X. 
 
 ol K JOIHXEY ri' THE GHEAT RIVER — THE DAILY LIFE 
 OF A tillNAMAN IN HIS 0W^' CUL'.NTRY — FAVORITE 
 FOOD AND QUEER ])ISIIP:S. 
 
 Am Fxcursion in a FIowit Boat — "Rico Power" — The Stern-Wheeler 
 and its Motive Power — Sacriliccs and Perils of the Missionary — A 
 Chinese Feast — Chop Sticks and How to Use Them — Lamb and ('hest- 
 uiils — Frogs' Legs and Onions — A Dissipated Prejudice — Shrimps 
 and Banilioo Root — Our Seventeen Courses — A Chinese Vilhige — A 
 Village School and Schoolmaster — Studying Aloud — A Pot and its 
 Contents — How the Ashes of Grandfathers are saved in China — " Fe, 
 Fi, Fo, Fum, I Smell the Blood of a Chinaman" — Seventeen DoUars 
 for a Cliild — A FireCraclvcr Factory — How Fire-Crackers are Made 
 — Cheap Wages and Cheap Living — A Chinese Flower (Jarden— A 
 Mandarin in His Blossom CJown — A Chinese Temple — Waking up 
 the God — Washstands for a (lod — Lack of Reverence — Fans for Sick 
 Relatives — The Voices of the Night — A Contrast 179 
 
 C'lr AFTER XL 
 
 OUII STAY IN CHARMIX(J .lAPAX — SOCIAL CUSTOMS — SOME 
 INTKHESTING PEHSONAL EXPERIENCES — LIFE AND 
 SCENES ON A TEA PLANTATION. 
 
 Tile I)est Preparation for a Xew Land — A Terrible Typhoon — Personal 
 Experiences— " The Lord is Able to Give Thee Much More Than 
 Tills" — The Jlost Beautiful of Mountains— Fujiyama in Sjiotlcss 
 Ermine — "Fiery Jack "— Yokohama — The Rush of .liiu'ikishas — 
 The Capture of the Man-of- War's :\Ien — Fun in the Custom House — 
 " Crossing the Palm " — A Lesson in Japanese Politeness — Rowing in 
 Japanese — The Sliopkee|ier's Salaam — The INIaid Servant's Obeisance 
 lieceiving Callers — A Hinge in the Spine — The Ohio Statesman's 
 Mistake— "My Fool of a Wife " — Japanese Railways — Our Fellow 
 Passengers — Progressive Japan — Telegrai)h Lines aiul Electric Lights 
 — Postal Delivery Six Times a Day — Protecting the Windows — The 
 Professor's Many Suits — The "Obi" — A Japanese Joseph— What we 
 Saw from the Car AVindow — A Tea Plantation — " Father's Pride and 
 Mother's Joy " — Thatch-Roofed Farm Houses 191 
 
XXVI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A STROLL AMONG THE JIIKADOS Sl'IUECTS —EVERYDAY 
 LIFE IN A JAPANESE HOUSE. 
 
 Tokio, its Parks, its Toniplcs, and its Palace — Its University — A Study 
 of Fish Parasites — What .Missionaries have done — The Seisniologieal 
 Department — An Artificial Eartluiuake — Exceptional Earthquake 
 Privileges — Wheat and ChalT — Canton and Tokio. or China reruns 
 Japan — The Frenchman of the East — A Japanese House — No Doors, 
 No Windows, No Chimneys — A AValk in u Country Village — The 
 Country liakery — A Rice Mill — Division of Labor — An Initiation into 
 the Art of Orange Eating — The Jajianese Shoe Shop — The Villainous 
 Daikon — Prices in Japan — A Pot of Tea for Two Cents — A Japanese 
 Dinner in a Japanese Hotel — The Curious Crowds at the Window — 
 The Motormen of the East — The Hilarious Jinrikisha Men — The 
 Waitress and her Odd Position— Paying our Reckoning, . . . 206 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OUR EXPERIENCE AT A CERE^IONIAL TEA — JAPANESE 
 SOCIAL LIFE — IN THE EMPERORS PALACE. 
 
 A Ceremonial Tea — "Past Masters " of Politeness — The Emperor's De- 
 vice — A Dignified Function — A Contest in Politeness — White and 
 Black Charcoal — With IMcasured Steps and Rhythmic Motion — Build- 
 ing the Fire — The Most Solemn Moment — Our Part in the Ceremony 
 
 — No Laughing Matter — Smacking Our Lips — From Tokio to Kioto 
 
 — The Garden of the World — Industrious and Careful Farmers — 
 Woman's Rights in Japan — One of Japan's Honored Names — Mis- 
 sionary Life in the East — Flippant "Globe-trotters" — Cheating the 
 Gods — Stone Children with Red Bibs — Confucius's Chilly Cult — The 
 Temple of the Three Thousand Gods — Big Gods and Little Gods — 
 Rope Made of Human Hair — How Heavy Timbers were Lifted into 
 Place — Curious Sacrifice of Religious Devotees — In the Emperor's 
 Palace — Osaka, its Mint, its Castle, and its Fish-Market, . . . 230 
 
 CHAPTER Xiy. 
 
 OUR RETURN TO CHINA — THE SEAMY SIDE OF CHINESE 
 LIFE -OPIUM FIENDS AND FAN-TAN GAMBLERS — ODD 
 WAYS OF AN ODD PEOPLE — CURIOUS DISPOSAL OF 
 THE DEAD. 
 
 An Obstructing Bar — The Will of Heaven — Almond Eyes and Pigtails 
 
 — Noiseless John — How John Chinaman Treats Americans in Shanghai 
 
 — Colossal Conceit — The Future of the Celestial Empire — Shoes Two 
 Cents a Pair — A Chinese Grocery Store — Dried Kidneys and Chickens' 
 
 M 
 
 sx 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XXV 11 
 
 lYDAY 
 
 V Study 
 lological 
 tliquiike 
 111 n'ruiis 
 o Doors, 
 ;e-The 
 ilion into 
 illainous 
 Japanese 
 indow — 
 en — The 
 . . 205 
 
 PANESE 
 
 eror's Dc- 
 
 Vhite anil 
 — Build- 
 eroinony 
 to Kioto 
 irniers — 
 
 les — Mis- 
 iting tlie 
 
 ult — Tim 
 Gods — 
 fted into 
 imperor's 
 . 230 
 
 IIINESE 
 ODD 
 SAL OF 
 
 IS 
 
 I 
 
 d Pigtails 
 Sliangliai 
 
 slioes Two 
 Chicliens' 
 
 jjvcrs— Varnisliod Pig — All()\val)le Tiiet't — A Ciiincse Hicc Mill — 
 Arrested Development — How Cliinese Paper is Made — liicc Pai)er — 
 How it is Produced — Woebegone, Eniaeiated Faces — The Seamy Side 
 of Chinese I, ife— " Hitting the Pii)e " — Opium Fiends — Fan-tan (Jani- 
 lilcrs — Intense Excitement — Ciiincse Music — Uneartiily Screeching — 
 I'rolonged and Awful Caterwauling — In the Suburbs — Human Beasts 
 of Burden — Ciuna and Japan Agricultiirally Considered — Rotation of 
 Crops — Novel Ice Harvesting — Fish Farnung — An Odd Way of Fisli- 
 ing — The Old, Old Story of Mortality — A Great Funeral — Funeral 
 Baked Meats — Baby Towers of Shanghai, 257 
 
 CirAPTER XV. 
 
 A JOUHNEY THIIOUGII TKOPIC SEAS — AHHIVAL IN INDIA- 
 NATIVE JlGGi-EHS. ACROBATS, AND BEGGARS. 
 
 A Delightful Voyage — Eicpiid Fire — The Saered White Ox — The Gharri 
 
 — The " L Road" and the Bullock Ban<ly — Fan Palms of Singapore — 
 A Tree that Casts no Shadow — How the Bandy Driver Stimulates his 
 Steeds — An ElTective Tiireat — Chewing a Bullock's Tail to make 
 him go — Picturesque Wharf Venders — "Papa Dive" — Scrambling for 
 Nickels — A Walk in Penang — Mangosteens and Jack-fruit — Assa- 
 f(rtida and Onions — The Indian Juggler — A Man with a Gizzard — 
 The Mango Tree Trick and the Girl in the Basket — The Last of the 
 Chinaman — Ceylon's Spicy Breezes — The Waggish Captain's Joke — 
 The Odors of Colombo — A Horrible Combination — The Catamaran — 
 The Two Instincts of the Singhalese — Persistent Shopkeepers — Be- 
 sieged by Beggars — Baby Merchants and their Wares — The Cinna- 
 mon Gardens — An Ancient Turtle — Brawny Barbarism and Miss 
 Nancyism 279 
 
 CHAPTER XVr. 
 
 OUR EXPERIENCES IN SOUTHERN INDIA — LIFE IN A .MIS- 
 SIONARY BUNGALOW — A PICNIC IN THE JUNGLE. 
 
 A Journey with a Bad Reputation — Landing at Tutieoriu — Railway 
 Traveling in India — A New Use for a Dirty Sock — Preparing for Hot 
 Weather — House Building in the Tropics — " Give the Sun no Chance " 
 
 — Horses under Pith Hats— Barren India — On the Ragged Edge of 
 Famine — (}aunt Starvation — Disputing with the Ants — Buffaloes 
 and Long-legged Goats — A Sunset Scene — A Missionary Bungalow — 
 A Girls' Boarding School — How They Make up Their Beds- An In- 
 ventory of a Maiden's Jewels — A Missionary's Manifold Labors — A 
 Picnic in the Jungle — The "Nine Lac Garden " — Serio\is Duties 
 Again — A Bicycle Story- The Good Devil and his Terrible Bell — 
 "Tell Me Y'our Name, Good Devil " — Bound in the Shackles of the 
 Caste System — A Brave Brahmin, 294 
 
XXVlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 (MlAI'TKIi XVII. 
 
 SOMK FAMOUS CITIKS oF SolTllKKX INDIA —INDIAN 
 SNAKE ('IIAl{Mi:i{S, TIIIKVKS AND HOBUKKS — FAM0U8 
 IDOLS, THMIM.ES AND I'AEA( HS. 
 
 A Fiisciii.itiiii;- I, Mild — (Iiirucniis Ilciitliriiisiii — 'I'at too Marks and Sacred 
 Aslics— A Man of the Tliict' Casti-— A l{()l)lK'r Villayr — Calling tliu 
 Uoll of Thicvos — The Thief Middleman — The Women at tlie Well — 
 'I'he (ireasy Fakir — Pavinji; Ilim for Drifting to Eeeward — Mlood- 
 cnrdling Announcements — A Magiiilieent 'I'emple — 'I'wenty-tive Mill- 
 icjns of Dollars — Dusty (Jods and Goddesses — The Holy of Holies — A 
 .Stone Bull in a Stone Hath Tub- The God's IJatli- A Beautiful Pal- 
 ace — The Temple of Tanjore — Filthy Water as a I'urilier of Sins — 
 The East Bajah and His \\'ives — A Wedding Procession — Tlu; Kick- 
 ing Capacities of an Old Sniooth-Bore — Vellore and its Temjjle — Sus- 
 pense and Teri'or — A I5rave l{eseue — The (Sallant Horses — Tippoo 
 Sahib's Uelalives — The Madras Hum — Tlie Punkah Wallah, . Ull 
 
 CIIAPTKR XVIII. 
 
 ON THE B.\NKS OF THE SACRED (GANGES — HOlHtlBEE CUS- 
 TOMS- FINEHAE lUTES AND AVEDDING CElfEMOXHOS. 
 
 The .Mouth of the Hoogly — A Precaution — From the I'arisian to the 
 Pariah — The Great IJanyan of the Geographies — Ten Thousand 
 Troojjs nnder its Shade — The Burning Ghat — A Sidewalk Barber's 
 Siioj) — A (Jliasliy Group — Inmimerable Beggars — Ueligious I'arasites 
 
 — The Old Fakir's Oifering — The leathers in the Ganges— A Devoted 
 Son — Dying at her Leisure — A Burning (Jliat — Decorations after the 
 Iiath — Burning the ])ea<l — Hindu Tlieology — Towers of Silence — 
 Dreary Biers and Hungry N'ultuics — A Cannibal Feast — The Jews of 
 India — Why They (Jive their Bodies to the Vultures — The JJoiidage of 
 Cast( — Inlying Dear for his Dinneis — A A'enerable Bridegroom — 
 Matcli Alakers in India — Tlie Stars Favorable and .Marriages FrcMpient 
 
 — A Wedding Procession — A I'athetic Mite of a Bride — A Matter-of- 
 fact \Vooer 385 
 
 M 
 
 (MIAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN THE COUNTRY OF THE GIHCAT MUTINY — SOME PAGES 
 OF BLOODY HISTORY — HEROES AND HEROINES OF 
 INDIA — MEMORIES OF THE PAST. 
 
 Across Northern India by Rail — In an Indian Sleeping Car — Scenes from 
 our (\ir Window — Storks anil Penguins, Monkeys and Jackals — "It 
 is a Beautifid ]\Iorning ; Come, Bet Us Kill Something" — Defiling a 
 
 M 
 
CONTKNTS. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 IVddlcr's Swcctmciits— A Work n( I'fiti(iicc and Dipldiiiac;- — Am 
 Every Diiy ('(uivciNiiiinn in India — 'I'ln' M.'cca nf liic IJraliiniiis — Tlie 
 Mt^niii'V 'I'cniplc — Caw ii|>ni(' nf lildody .Memory — An Awful I'a.ne of 
 History — 'I'lie Angel of lieniendiranei — Meiuorics of J.ueknow — 
 Tlie Gallant Lawrence — Ha veloek's Troops to the Ueseue — The 
 Hero's (}rave —Tlie Cannon IJall that l{olihed the Mother of Her Halie 
 — The City of the Taj ^hdial — The ^Moi^id's I'rondse and How lit; 
 Ke|)l It — "In Memory of an Immortal Love" — The Hand of the 
 Vandal -".lane Hii^ginljottoin " in the Taj — How the Old Kinj^ 
 I'layed I archesi H.W 
 
 CIIAPTKU XX. 
 
 oil! V()VA(H': ACUOSS THH IM)L\N OCEAN AND THUOl'GH 
 THK SlEZ CANAL — AIJHIVAL IN ECJVPT. 
 
 Some of our Fellow Passengers — Missionaries and Men of Mars — The 
 I.iltle Athletts — I'otato liaees and Hurdle .lumping— The Red Sea — 
 A Glimpse of Sinai-- "Ami a Half, Eight" — Waiting our Turn — A 
 Huge .laek o' Lantern — A Sight Long to bo Hemembered — A Stu- 
 pendous I'lnterprise — A Great Waterway — Canal Diggers before De 
 Lesseps — In the Canal — Isiualiaand her Donkeys — " Vankee Doodle" 
 and "Washy Washington" — I'ndeniable Desert — A Woman with a 
 Supplementary Nose — Our First (Jlimpse of the liedouin — A Family 
 of Arabs — The Land of Goshen — Pharaoh and his Prime Minister — 
 IJrieks without Straw — The Fellahin and How They Live — Their 
 Superstitions — " O, Viigin ISIary " — "The Sun Do ]Move " — The 
 IJlessings Hrought by John IJull — A Ghostly Reminder — How They 
 Curry the Babies— " Raeksheesii, I'.aeksheesh "— " Oh Sugar for a 
 Nail"— "God Will :Make Them Light, Oh Lemons" — The Little 
 " Sons of the River," 370 
 
 nes Irom 
 Is- "It 
 )etiling a 
 
 CHAPTER XX I. 
 
 IN THE LAND OF THE PHAUA( )HS — THE MOST WONDER- 
 FIL MlSEl'M IN THE WORLD — THE MUMMY OF PHA- 
 RAOH THE OPPRESSOR. AND HOW THE BODY WAS DIS- 
 COVERED—LOOKING INTO PHARAOH'S FACE. 
 
 Marvelous Cairo — A Vivacious Traveler — Eyes wanted Before and Be- 
 hind — A Labyrinth of Lanes — Fashion in a Fez — Madaiu Grundy in 
 Egypt — At the Sugar Cane Bazaar— A Glimpse of the Khedive — A 
 Boy in a Fez— A Ride to Ileliopolis- The Flight into Egypt — The 
 Tree of the Virgin — How the Spider Outwitted Herod — Ancient On — 
 Tli(! ( )idy Relic — .Joseph's Father-in-Law — Where .Tose])h was Married 
 — How are the :\Iighty Fallen 1 — The ^Vlost Wonderful Museum in the 
 World — A Room Full of .Alummies — Sethi I and Ramescs II — Moses' 
 
XXX CONTKNTS. 
 
 Playfellow — What tiii' Hiblc says of lliin — A Muiiimy over Three 
 Thoiisainl Years Old — Tiic Pharaoh ol' ilie Oppression — When; He 
 was |{wrie(l — Tlie Loealion a .Miglity Secret for Centuries — How the 
 Tonili was Discovered in IHHl — I'nwiiiding tlie .Muniiny — How 
 Pharaol) Looked — Description of the Mody — Its Identity Kstahlished 
 — Where is the I'liaraoh of the Exodus '! 390 
 
 CIIAJ»TKIi XXII. 
 
 ON THE BANKS OF THE NILK-OIU CMMH TO THE TOP 
 OF THE GREAT I'YHAMJDS - HESET MY AUAHS — AMUS- 
 ING ADVENTURES AND EXPEIUENCES. 
 
 An Ancient Proverb — Our First View of tlie Pyramids — Man-niado 
 Mountains — Monuments AYhich Ni'vi'i" Disappoint tli(; Traveler — 
 Could They be Built To-day? — A Blow at the Conceit of the Ninc- 
 t<,'enth Century — Comfort for the Optimist — Why the Pyramids were 
 Built and How — Tlie Tombs of the Pharaohs — A Small Pyramid for a 
 Short \\v\i^n — A More Intimate Acquaintance — The Road to Cheops 
 — " Malish Backsheesh " — Unnecessary Attention — The Comanches of 
 the Desert — An Appeal to the Sheik — Getting Upstairs — How the 
 Stout Lady Reached the Top — Desolation, Dearth, and Death — Life- 
 giving Father Nile — Beautiful Cairo — An Ancient Story of the Pyra- 
 mids — Avaricious Arabs — Destroying the Pyramids — Looking Down 
 on Forty Centuries — A Ride on a Camel to the Sphinx — Boarding 
 the Ship of the Desert — The Ever-watchful One, 41T 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIT. 
 
 ALL ABOARD FOR JERUSALEM — JOURNEYING THROUGH 
 THE HOLY^ LAND BEHIND A LOCOMOTIVE— SCENES AND 
 INCIDENTS BY THE WAY'. 
 
 A Stormy Day in March — A Test for Brave Hearts and Stnmg Stom- 
 achs — Throwing Up Jonah — Going Ashore at JafTa — How We Got 
 Down the Ship's Side — Dumping Passengers in the Small Boat — Up 
 to the Ridge Pole and Down the Side of the Great Tent — A Terrible 
 Accident — A Highwayman's Demand — " Y'our Money or Y'our Life" 
 — A Near Approach — Unspeakable Filth — The House of Simon the 
 Tanner— Simon's Vat — View from the Housetop — Our Rural Friend 
 from New Y'ork State — "Them Jimkirridges " — Through the Holy 
 Land Behind a Steam Engine — The Sentimental Man — The Reward of 
 Indulging a Sentiment — Our Dragoman — How Abdallah Caught the 
 Doctors Napping— When the Sun and the Moon Stood Still — The 
 Dapper Conductor in His Red Fez — The Rose of Sharon, . . . 43i> 
 
■f 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 XXXI 
 
 (ilAPTKIl XXIV. 
 
 "JERUSALEM, JEIUSALEM • — ollt So.lolUN IN THE LAND 
 OF SA('|{ED STOUV -IN'TEKESTING SCENES AND TOUCH- 
 ING MEMORIES. 
 
 The IJriikemuii's Aniiounceniciit — Incoiij^nuous Modernism — Enti'dng 
 Jonisalcin — 'I'lin>ii^iii,>; Eiiiotiiuis — " 'I'Ik; Joy of tin- Wlmlc Earlli " — 
 A Walk within llie Walls— Tlu- MocU-rn City — A I'athclic Story — 
 Pluii/^inf; into tho Heart of the City — The Various Siiops — Silverware 
 from DamaseuH — Shylock in Jerusalem — A Su>rjresiion of Wliite-(.'a|)S 
 — The Camel and His Sneerinff l'nderli,i — Waler-( 'arriers and t heir (.oat 
 Skins — The Dignified Syrian — Tin Church of the; Holy Sepulchre — 
 A Checkered History — The Short Triumph of the Crusaders — The 
 Stone of Unction — A Touching Rible Story — Vulgar Facts — Moa.sur- 
 ing the Stone for Their Winding Sheet — Our Lord's Tomb — The Great 
 Unwashed — How Adam Came to Life — The Cleft in the Rock — An 
 Impressive Spectucle — A Disgraceful Easter Scene — An Awful Acci- 
 dent, 447 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 FOLLOWING IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF OUR LORD — A MEMOR- 
 ABLE WALK — LIFE AND SCENES IN THE HOLY CITY. 
 
 The Via Dolorosa — Fourteen Stations on the Way to the Cross — St. Veron- 
 ica and Her Handkerchief — Some Touching Inscriptions — Outside the 
 Gates — Our Golgotha — " The Green Hill Far Away." — Gethsemane — 
 Tlie Stone of Treason — A Wonderful View — Our Lord's Broken- 
 Ilcarted Lament — The Russian Tower — The Dead Sea — A Marvelous 
 Mirror — Absalom's Tomb — The Fate of an Untilial Reprobate — The 
 cave of Adullam — Nebo and Its Lonely Grave— The \Mllage of Mary and 
 Martha— The Greatest Miracle of the Ages— " Dis Way to de Tomb 
 of Lazaroos" — The Wretched Inhabitants of Modern Bethany — The 
 Tomb of Rachel— Where Our Lord was Born — The Marble Cradle — 
 An Impressive Sight — Wrangling Christians — Turkish Guards at Our 
 Lord's Cradle — A Sad Suggestion 46& 
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 WITHIN AND AROUND " THE DOME OF THE ROCK "— CURIOUS 
 TRADITIONS AND PATHETIC SCENES. 
 
 The Mosque of Omar — A Rock of Wonderful Traditions — Abraham's 
 Sacrifice — Our Retinue — Mohammed's Broomstick Ride — The Wily 
 Jew and the Pilgrim — The AVise Judge — The Marvelous Iron Chain 
 
XXXll 
 
 CONTKNTS. 
 
 Jl 
 
 of .lustirc — A Wily Jew — Oiir Sli|>|M'r>< iiiiil How We Kept Tlinii On 
 — Our '■ lliimliun" Slicik — 'I'lic (inut Unck -■ 'I'lif Sioiic n\' Nails — 
 How llu! Devil Drew 'I'lifiii Out — An Kiisy Way of Miiyiim- llravcn — 
 A iJotk Which Ifi'stsoii Nolhini,'— How (ialirifl IIilil It Down — 'riic 
 Way to l'aiaili-.c Wlial tlii' i'ii.uiiin Found in tlic Well — Hairs from 
 the iJcanl of .Molianinic(l — TIk! Stalih's of Solomon — Tin- I'laco of 
 Final .liidiinicnt — Startlin,:,^ ami Cnrious Traditions — Tin; Wniliny; 
 Place- Kcal tiricf — A Sciualid Seeni' — The Old l'harise<' and His 
 liovelocks — A Sad liitany — A More Joyful Keynote — A iMarvelous 
 Itace 488 
 
 1/. 
 
 CIIAPTKIi XXVIT. 
 
 IN T1H-: HOME OF SAIN'I' FAIL — THI] FAMOFS CEDAUS OF 
 FFMANON — OFU KXFFIUKNXKS IN THK I. AND OF THE 
 SFLTAX — AT THK MFUCY OF INHOSFITAHLE TFHKS. 
 
 Embarking at .laffa — Aniericaiis in Syria — Their S|)lendi(l College — An 
 Interostinii' Hooni — The IJe^inninji;- of Our Tribulations — A Turkish 
 ("usto;;. H(tuse — Forl)id(len Words — The Sapient Censor — A School 
 Boy's Composition and What ("anu- of it — The Fse of Ironclads 
 — An Ill-starred Kclu'llion — " No Mean City " — St. Puul's Well — 
 Dniwini,^ Water from It, — St. Paul's Tree — St. Paul's Institute — 
 Humble Streets — A Walk to the Vali's I'alaee- " Palace " or 
 "Sheds"".' — In the Presence of His Excellency — "The IJouyou- 
 rouldoii " — Olliciai Handwriting — A Simday in Adana — A Livinj; 
 Screen — A Congregation of Fe//es — S(iuattin,ij: on the Floor — How to 
 Pack a Congregation — Turks and Armenians — "Is America on a 
 
 Hill ? " — Preparing for our Overland Journey, 
 
 504 
 
 CITAPTEIl XXVTir. 
 
 A HEMAHKABLE JOURNEY ACROSS ASIA MINOR IN A SPRING 
 WA(;ON — THRILLING EXPERIENCES BY THE WAY— A 
 DANGEROUS RIDE. 
 
 An Impo.sing Cavalcade — Foolish "Franks" — An Arsenal of Archaic 
 Weapons — AH, tiie Turk — Anastas, the Errand Boy — "IMeat" — 
 Entrancing Scenery — Snowcapped Lebanon — The Road of Paul and 
 Cicero — Elocjuent Ruins — Our Fellow Travelers — Caravans of Cam- 
 els — The Patient Donkey — Pleasant Salutations — " Bereket Versiu " — 
 "May the Ainnghty Cling to your Hand" — The 3Iotto of the Spoons 
 
 — The Story of the Dervish— The Holy Ass— A Chip of the Old Block 
 
 — KeepingOir the " Evil Eye" — " Y'ou Dirty Brat" — A Fond Moth- 
 er's Salutation — The Mother-in-Lavv in Turkey — A Typical Turkish 
 
 :* 
 
COXTKXTS, 
 
 XXXUl 
 
 KImii — Sliariiii: n \'>i<\ willi ilic ( amils 'l'liinii;;li ilif ( ilii ian (ialcH 
 — The •• llail Ki\r .Mil( s ' ^ llc.w W'r lldii the Wau'm CroHsini: the 
 Taurus .Mniiiilaiiis — 111 till' (Jiiisl Ifnoni uf Srlim ."»•,',*» 
 
 CIIAITKi: X\I\. 
 
 ON TO TIIK COI.DKN IIOIJN — CONTI NTAIION oF ol K .lolK- 
 NKV IN A \VA(ioN -WillliMNt; AND l[o\VI.I\(; DKK- 
 VisiIKS-VHILKI) \V().MI:N OF TrKKKV. 
 
 Walciicil liy a I'lirimis Crowil — A i>i'ukcii llcaitcd Wife — Tlic l.aiiip- 
 Dealer's Suspicious Malls — A (iciiiiine TmUisli Matli — The Feast i if 
 Uaniidau — WaUiiiiJ: I'p to Kat — Tlii' DilTi reiiee IJelweeii a IJIack 
 Thread and a Wliiti — Cross Ollicials — A Picked and Siii;j:ed Turkey 
 
 — Carviiii,' rp Turkey — An.u'ora Cats and AuL-'ora (Joats — Tyini;' I'p 
 a IJailway Train — Drawinij Near to CunsliiMtiiiople — A l-'auious 
 Colleixe — St. Soi)lMa, the .Mar\(lous — In the Hands of tiie \'andai>. 
 
 — The Covered Faic — The Hlondy Hand of tlie Con({ueror — The 
 •■ Swealinu: Column " — Tiie Whirling' Dervishes — llou They Whirl — 
 Treadinu: on the Hahies — A Sti'aimc Ceremony — How the Sultan (Joes 
 to .M()S(|ue — Saiidin,!i' the Road — A .Mean-Faced Monarch — The Sidtan'>* 
 Wives and Daughters — A Timid Tyrant — liieh Stores of Costly 
 .Jewels — IJeautiful IJroiis.sii — Tomb of Othmaii the CJreat, . . .")4.% 
 
 'RING 
 A -A 
 
 ClIAI'TKIi XXX. 
 
 THRorOII CLASSIC LANDS — FRo.M CONSTAXTINOPLK TO 
 THK ("OAST OF SPAIN — INDKR lil.lK ITALIAN SKIFS — 
 ALONG OLD PATHS — HOMEWARD HOlND. 
 
 OIV for Athens — On llie Trfiirf,afr/i'>f—T\H' Occident and the Orient — 
 The Sharj) Line of Demarcation — Teiiedos and Its Wooden, Horse — 
 What .Makes Athens (Ireat To-day? — A Charminir Journey — The 
 Ruined City and its Tlirillina; Story — The Romantic Way of Climliinu: 
 Vesuvius — The Lake of Fire and Hriinstoiu — An Awful Accident 
 — Where the Christians Fought with Wild Beasts— Pisa and its Hell 
 Tower — The Canipo Santo and its Sacred Soil — Lazy Venice and its 
 Gondolas — Genoa the Suiierh- All that We Found of Colund)us — On 
 the Murders of Sjtain — A Royal Swimmer— And)ilious Spanish Girls — 
 Too Envious to he Courteons — A Memory of Lafayette — Washer- 
 women Object to Modern Conveniences oGH 
 
! 
 
 xxxiv 
 
 COSTKNTS. 
 
 i*l 
 
 CIIAI'TKK \\\l. 
 oiuKcTs AND i{i;sn/rs OF (Hit .lornNKV-Tin: kavohinc; 
 
 IIANH OF IM{0\ II)EN( K — LOOKINU IJACK WAIU) IIAIM'V 
 MKMOKIKS. 
 
 Tile (Jniit OlijccI of our .loiiriicy — Aiistriilian Cniivciilioiis — Unhdimdcd 
 Kiilliusiiisiu — Tlie V. I*. S. ('. Iv I'riiiiiinl - Happy .Memories — In 
 Marvelous Jiipaii — A " I'liiteil Society" lor Ciiiiiii — AiiioiiK the Hin- 
 dus — Olislacies in Turkey — Forltiddeii Words — Arresting,' St. Paul 
 
 — IJIac k Hyed S|)anisii Ijideavorers — Fncoiira;;enieiil in I'aris— (tood 
 Nt'WH from the Motlier liand — Steady (irowtii of Kndeavor Societies — 
 Impressions of Missionaries and Tiieir Work — Cniei Misrepresentations 
 
 — (Jloi)e Trotters' Slanders — A Diversity of (Jifts— Wiial are the 
 Hardsid|)sof 11 Missionary to-(hiyV — Tiic Most Hopeful Feature of Mod- 
 ern Civilization — The Anj^lo-Saxon Missionary and His Noble Work — 
 Saving the World throu>j;h Jesus Christ OyS 
 
 
 B0 Seen (Tbrouflb a lUloman'e iB^ce. 
 
 BY 
 
 CirAPTETl L 
 
 A WOMAN'S LIFE AT SEA — HOUSEKEEPING IN A FLOATING 
 PRISON -LIFE UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS. 
 
 At Sea — Ilousekeepinj? on a Small Scale- Daily Life in a Floating 
 Prison — A (Consoling Stewardess — Tea and Toast in a Stateroom — 
 A Bed tliat Never Kept Still — Lucid Intervals — .Moving,' into a New 
 Home — Arranfi;in<r our Belonjiini^s — (Join;^ to Ilousekeepinir P^if;;hteen 
 Times in One Year — The Back Yard of an Ocean Steamer — Sifihing for 
 a Pine Stunip — A Chinese Steward, A Malay (Quartermaster, and an 
 English Captain — Life on the ('/iiiir/ti/ — Vn(\i'r the Southern Cross — 
 A Velvet-footed Steward -- Doleful rerstiH Pleasant Memories, . . 593 
 
 ■!' I 
 
i 
 
 J'ONTKNTS. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 ciiArTKi: II. 
 
 A>I(>N(J THK WOMKN AND ClIIKDltKN OF JAPAN-A .TAPAX- 
 KSE I'UAVKK MKKTINO NATIVK I'OMTKNKSS AND iri'I- 
 
 (iiKi'i'i; .Mv i:\im:i{iknck wrrii ciioi'sticks. 
 
 583 
 
 TIN{} 
 
 rilAPTKU TIT. 
 
 AMONG THE WOMEN AND (IIII.DItEN OF INDIA — NATIVE 
 DUESS AND ORNAMENTS — LIFE INSIDE A HICII HEATH 
 EN HOME— HEATHEN DOLLS, HKIDES, AND WIDOWS. 
 
 Chiltireii in CVylon — Persistent Little Begj^ars — C'lirly-I leaded Karo — 
 "My .so Poor"— Pretty Hrowii Hahies — Little Hands Stretched out 
 for Ahns — Ceylon Dandies — Pietnre.sijiie Waiters — A Kace of Ik'g- 
 gars — Tipping an Army of Attendants — Starting on u Journey ut 
 Three o'clock in the Morning — A Wagon Uide of Seven Miles ia the 
 Mooidight — Through the Streets of Vellore — Arrivid at a Mission 
 Bungalow — A Native (Jirl's Hoarding School — A Bridal Trousseau iu 
 lied and Yellow — Life Inside a Heatlien Home — Our Kcccption hy the 
 *'Bo" — A Peep into liie "Bahoo's" Apartments — A Display of 
 Jewelry — An American Doll in India — A Hciithi ii Doll — Mrs. Grundy 
 in u Zenana — Ten- Ycar-Ohl Brides — Child Widows 616 
 
 CirAPTEU IV. 
 
 A WOMAN'S JOUUNEY ACROSS TIHKEY IN A WAGON — A 
 MEMORABLE NIGHT IN A TIRKISH KHAN — TlRIvISH 
 VILLAGE LIFE — INTERESTIN(} PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. 
 
 Learning hy p:.\perience — :My Traveling Companions— " Coining out 
 Strong " — Mark Tapley's Opinion of the Sea — Our First E.vperiences in 
 a Turki-sh Custom House — Searching for Concealed Books and Papers 
 
■1 
 
 XXX VI 
 
 (•(iNTKNTS. 
 
 — A Novel (';iv,il('M(lc — In :i TiirUisli KIimii — A Mciiuiriihlc Ni,i;;ht — 
 HooiMiiiii' with Ddiikcys, Ciinicls, niul Horses — Our \Viisli Uasiii — 
 Over llic 'rnuriis ,Mouiil:iiiis — An Arnciican Spriii^f Wiigon in Asia 
 Minor — A Dismal I'inspccI — Filtli ami Dirt Evcrywiicrc — Sickcnintr 
 Siiilits in Villai^c Sirci'ts — lldlison's Clioicc — In a Xative House — 
 I'utlinLraii Aiineninn Haliy to Ucd — A ('iiccil'nl Infant — A I'eeiMiilo 
 Paradise — Dirty Turks — Hal in,;;- out of tlie Same DInIi uitli 'I'iiem — 
 A I'laguc of Fleas — iSonie Pointed (.2>'<-'''t'<"i^ ''-^ 
 
 ■S'. 
 
 CIIAITKIi V. 
 
 (JOOD I'.VK. 
 "GOD I5K Willi Vor TILL WL MKKT AGAIN." 
 
 The Departure from San I"''raneisco — Tiie Crowded Wharf — "All Ashore; 
 that's (Joini,f Ashore" — Tiie Son i;- of Farewell — The Captain's Kncour- 
 a.i^cnienl — (Jood Cheer f(a' All — A NeNcr-to-bo-forirotten Sonix — In 
 Morelon I>ay — On Hoard the CJiiiKjiu — Our P^rieiids on the Launch — 
 Chatleriiii;' Chinese — A \'oice from the 'I'lirslidir — An Cnaiipreeiative 
 Listener — Another Precious .Memory — At a Hallway Station in Oka- 
 yama — Japanese Cnurtesy — The Train Wails for the Sonir — In a 
 Chinese Schoolroom — The Lively Little Junior — The Dear Old llymii 
 in Chinese — In a Little Hill Town oT India — Departure in the ICarl}' 
 ^lorning — Surroiuideil hy Ohosts — " (lod He \\'ith You " in Hindu 
 Dialect — A Hrown-faced Boy Choir — Sweet, Lingering Echoes — A 
 JMessed Jlemory of Friends in Distant Lands GI5G 
 
 fl! 
 
 'A ; 
 

 I 
 
 CIIAPTEIl I. 
 
 OUR START — LIFE ON AN OCEAN STEAMER. 
 
 Tlic Journey lU'jrun — Duily Life on an Ocean Steamer — Al^^ ays Journey- 
 ing Homeward — Who is "We" — Taiiing the Reader into our Von- 
 lidence — A Parting Loolc — "God be with You till Wc Meet Again" 
 
 — Tlic " ^flml>OH(l" — Our Fellow Passengers — Gambling on Ship- 
 board — Hetting (m the Day's liuii — Where to read " Penny Dread- 
 fuls"— Lord Blank and his Guardiau — One Day on a Paeitic Steamer 
 
 — A Flexible Bath-tub — Something of which there is Enough — At 
 the Dinner Table — Sighing for Home-made Bread and Butter — 
 Wanted, .Milk from a Cow instead of from a Tin Can — Mrs. Bostonese 
 Brains — The Tramp, tramp, tramp of the Passengers- Ring-Toss and 
 Shutllc-Board — Sunday on tlie Ocean. 
 
 ^^.r'- 
 
 
 HE traveler on his AViiy around 
 the workl is tilways journeying 
 liomeward. Every revolution 
 of tlie car Aviieels, every vibra- 
 tion of the steamer's |n'o[)eIler 
 hrin^s him nearer to the point 
 of liis departure. He has no 
 Aveary miles of sea or land to 
 I'etrace. "When deserts dtiunt 
 his sjnrits, and dreary wastes of 
 interminable, tuniblino- waves 
 oppress the very imag-intition, 
 :? as thoy are sure to do before his journey ends, he can say 
 '^ to himself: "I shall not go this Avay again. I have but 
 to keep on and the desired home haven will be reached." 
 
 §1 assure mv readers that before the wide open doors of 
 
! ! '1 
 
 38 
 
 PERSONALLY CONDUCTED. 
 
 ■ ..1 • ' I 
 
 4 ! 
 
 '■t 
 
 the Golden Gate had been left many days in the distance, 
 we had reason to summon all our philosophy and to extract 
 all the sunshine Avliich we could obtain from such sentimen- 
 tal cucumbers ; for, to make the best of it, there are, on such 
 a journey as this book relates, monotonous days iind home- 
 sick (not to say seasick) hours, and discomforts in abun- 
 dance, to offset tlie new experiences, novel sensations, and 
 cluirming memory pictures whicli such a journey also atfoi'ds. 
 But it shall be my object on this '' personally conducted " 
 trip which I invite my readers to take with me, to elimi- 
 nate from theiv journey just as many of these disagreeable 
 and monotonous features as possible, and to give them the 
 pleasures of travel without its discomforts ; as many roses 
 and as few thorns as may be in my power to pluck. 
 
 The preface tells the reader of the chief object of this 
 journey ; and the purpose of this book is to take my fi'iends 
 with me over sea and land and show them the objects and 
 the people, the customs and the manners, the homes, streets, 
 and native life that most interested me. How often have 
 I wished that these friends were with me as I have silently 
 called the roll of their names — hundreds and thousands 
 of them : that some fabulously rich Count of Monte Cristo 
 might put a steamer or a whole fleet of steamers at our 
 <lisposal so that we could make the journey together. But 
 since that could not be, Ave will go together in the pages of 
 tills volume if they Avill kindly follow me. 
 
 We started — Ijut Avhere shall I say we started ? From 
 Boston, wiiere our trunks Avere first checked, or from Jersey 
 City, Avhere hundreds of generous friends from Xew Jersey 
 and New York and Brooklyn gave us occasion to remember 
 the parting scene as long as aa'-c Ha'c; or from Chicago, 
 Avhere equally Avarm Avelcomes and Avarm fareAvells Avere 
 extended ; or from DenA^er, or Salt Lake City, or Santa 
 
 
r, 
 
 WHO IS "WE. 
 
 39 
 
 atice, 
 :tract 
 hnen- 
 L such 
 lioine- 
 abun- 
 s, and 
 tTonls. 
 icted" 
 1 elimi- 
 reeable 
 em the 
 y roses 
 
 3k. 
 of this 
 
 ■ friends 
 cts and 
 streets, 
 
 len have 
 silently 
 ousands 
 e Cristo 
 at our 
 er. But 
 pages of 
 
 \1 From 
 \n Jersey 
 ^v Jersey 
 lemember 
 Chicago, 
 ills were 
 lor Santa 
 
 Cruz, or San Jose, or Oakland, or San Francisco? If one 
 starts from the place wliere he leaves dear friends and 
 receives kind and affectionate adieus, then we started from 
 all these places, and many others which it is impossible to 
 mention. 
 
 However, since the trip across the American Continent 
 is a matter of daily occurrence to hundreds of travelers, and 
 since I need not weary you with such a twice-told tale, we 
 will stai't, dear reader, as, in fact, " we " actually started from 
 the Golden Gate on Friday — by no means an unlucky day, 
 let us hope. 
 
 The "we" is not altogether an editorial we, but refers, 
 when particular designation may be necessary, to the three 
 individuals whom we will call the Pilgrim and Mrs. Pilgrim 
 and the Young Pilgrim, whose personality is explained a 
 little more fully in the preface. 
 
 This book is not to be a journal of what these pilgrims 
 did and said and how they felt and what kind of WT.it 'ler 
 they experienced, and how many times they paid tribute to 
 Neptune, and so forth. Such diaries are apt to become 
 egotistical and wearisome; but this shall be made up of 
 experiences and pictures Avhich wo would have live in your 
 memories and ours. 
 
 It matters comparatively little whether the Pilgrim had 
 a fit of indigestion on the 20th of Septembei*, or whether 
 Mrs. Pilgrim had an attack of the blues (as though such a 
 tiling were possible) on the 25th of November, or whether 
 the young Pilgrim caught the measles from a too close 
 inspection of the steerage ; sucli facts may have appropriate 
 place in a private diary, but only old Samuel Pepys could 
 make them interesting to other people. 
 
 But we shall take you all into our confidence in regard 
 to matters of common interest. We will, in other words, 
 
40 
 
 FAREWELL TO THE GOLDEN WEST. 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 look for you through the most j)owerful iichl-ghisses wo can 
 coniniand, ut evorythin<^ high jind h)\v, c(jninionphice and 
 extraordinary, wliich wetliiidc wouhl interest you. AVe will 
 not merely gaze at the sun, moon, and stars, the h)fty moun- 
 tain ])eaks, and sublime characters which come Avithin our 
 range. AVe will look for you at the common people and 
 their common Avays ; at the little street gamin as w^ell as the 
 lords and ladies of higii degree ; at the trivial things Avhich 
 many travelers think beneath their notice ; and es})ecially 
 at the unusual and the uncommon Avhich it is necessary to 
 travel t(>n thousand leagues of sea and land to view. 
 
 Now that we undi.'rstand each other so fully, dear read- 
 ers, let us take a parting look at " the land of the free and 
 the h(jme of the brave," which we shall not see again for 
 nearly a twelvemonth. 
 
 The steamship M(n'i'j)Ofi<i is moving away from her 
 San Francisco pier. The llutteriiig white handkerchiefs of 
 the crowd of (Jalifornian Endeavorers on the dock, whose 
 welcome has partaken of all the unbounded hospitality of 
 the Golden West, are gi-o\ving dimmer every moment, their 
 " God be with vou till we meet again" sounds fainter and 
 fainter, until at last they are lost to eye and ear, and wuth a 
 lump in our throats at the thought of the land and friends 
 we are leaving behind us, Ave turn to look at the good ship 
 Avhich for nearly a month is to be our home, and at the 
 passengers who are to be our neighbors. 
 
 Not a matter of snudl moment is this of home and neigh- 
 bors on such a voyage as that from San Francisco to Syd- 
 ney. On a little run of live or six days on an ocean grey- 
 hound across the Athmtic, it matters little, comparatively, 
 Avhat are one's surroundings. One can misanthro])ically 
 take to his berth or shut himself up in his stateroom for 
 such a journey ; but when it comes to the magnificent dis- 
 
 ti 
 
(iAMHLIX({ ON SIIII'HOAUI). 
 
 41 
 
 o can 
 ! and 
 e will 
 inoun- 
 lu our 
 le and 
 as the 
 Avliich 
 lecially 
 sary to 
 
 V read- 
 fee ttnd 
 i-iiin for 
 
 3m lier 
 hiet's of 
 :, whose 
 ility of 
 nt, their 
 ter and 
 with a 
 friends 
 ood ship 
 at the 
 
 d nei<;h- 
 to Syd- 
 an grey- 
 iratively, 
 ropically 
 room for 
 icent dis- 
 
 1:T 
 t 
 
 tancos of tlie Pacific it is (|uite a difi'erent thinfjf, and one 
 feels almost as much interest in his surroundings as a nunis- 
 ter in his new parish or a freshman in his new classmates. 
 
 All modern ocean steamers for ])assenger travel liave 
 many things in common ; tliey are all long and narrow, with 
 staterooms and dining saloon helow, and a ])romena(le deck 
 or social hall ahove. The Tacific liners, es})ecially those for 
 the Australian ])orts, are built nujre for hot weatlier than 
 the Atlantic Heet, with the most desirabhi staterooms on 
 the upper deck, and with awnings to keep off tlie sun which 
 on the Xoi'th Atlantic is always nu^re agreeable than other- 
 wise. 
 
 But let us look at our fellow passengers. As all (iaul 
 was divided into tlir(>e ])arts, so all tlu! passengers on an 
 ocean steamer may be divided into two parts; the gamblers 
 and the non-gandjlers. I am sorry to say tliat on our steamer 
 the fornuM' outnumber the lattei'. Not that they are pro- 
 fessicjnal gand^lers for the most])art ; they Avould be shocked 
 at any such renu)te suggestion, but they hel[) make up "the 
 pool," take a chance in the "Calcutta Sweep," and eagerly 
 scan the recoi'd of the shi[)'s run each day to se(^ whether 
 they have lost or won. 
 
 The moral sense, on the nuitter of gand)ling at least, 
 seems to be blunted on shi[)board ; the sea air has a demoral- 
 izing effect on the finer scMisibilities. There is Loi'd , 
 
 for instance, who looks like a gi'een country youth from the 
 backwoods of America, only that his clothes do not fit so 
 well as the average cowboy's fit him. One would think, to 
 look at his innocent face, that no guile lurked behind it, but 
 he spends day after day in the reeking atmosidu,»re of the 
 smoking room, with his pile of money and "chips" before 
 him, as eager over the cards as though his life depended on 
 them. There, too, is Sir 
 
 a great nuin in his own 
 
r 
 
 i2 
 
 REVELATIONS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 i! 
 
 land, I understand, wlio, doubtless, poses every year at elec- 
 tion time as a model of all the virtues, and an example to 
 all the 3'outh. lie can find nothing better to do than to bet 
 on every day's run, and to abet the young lord whose tem- 
 l)orary guardian he is, and before Avhom he should set a 
 good example, in all his gambling operations. There, too, 
 
 is Mrs. , who doubtless, considers herself a ])erfect 
 
 lady. Alas, I believe the register says she is from Boston ! 
 She is eagerness itself to know whether her little venture in 
 the Calcutta Sweep is like to yield her any dividends. 
 
 But there are some, I am glad to say, who have as much 
 l)rinciple on sea as on land ; who are not tempted to lay 
 aside their ordinary morals because of the comparative 
 seclusion of an ocean steamer. 
 
 The fact is, a voyage of this sort brings out and accent- 
 uates the traits which on shore are covered up by the 
 conventionalities of life. An ocean trip is a kind of a 
 judgment day in its revelation of character. In this little 
 company of a few score of people is a little world with all 
 the hopes, fears, joys, and ambitions of the larger wf)rld 
 from which avc have come. The gambler at heart, who on 
 shore has not a chance because of public opinion to risk a 
 nickel or turn up a card, is here a gambler in reality; the 
 tippler, who at home seldom takes a drink, here without any 
 reproach can have his bottle at every meal as well as be- 
 tween meals; the impatient mother (we almost always find 
 one such) here has little to do save to scold her unfortunate 
 babies; the devoted lover can hold his sweetheart's hand all 
 day long; the flashy novel reader, with no bread and butter 
 to earii; can peruse his ''penny dreadfuls" from morning to 
 night. 
 
 The real lady and gentleman, I am glad to say, are also 
 on board, and their kindness and unassuming unselfishness 
 
IN THE EARLY MORNINO. 
 
 43 
 
 t clec- 
 iple to 
 to bet 
 iG tein- 
 . set a 
 re, too, 
 perfect 
 Boston ! 
 iture in 
 
 as much 
 1 to lay 
 iparative 
 
 i accent- 
 1 by the 
 ind of a 
 his little 
 with all 
 :er "\vorld 
 who on 
 to risk a 
 ality; the 
 bout any 
 ell as be- 
 ways ftnd 
 nfortuniite 
 s bantl all 
 and butter 
 iiorning to 
 
 ly, are also 
 
 ■i 
 3 
 
 are also accentuated as they show us how, amid the trying 
 circumstances of life on sliijjboard, true courtesy can exist. 
 
 Perliaps you would like to know liow wo ])ass the day. 
 Set! itno (h'-scc oz/oics (from one learn all) is a K(Mnan proverb 
 wliieli a})plies particularly to life on a Pacific Ocean steamer, 
 where the monotony of daily life is scarcely ever broken 
 even by the unwelcome advent of a storm. Bright skies, 
 brisk but not violent trade winds, dancing Avhite ca})s, and a 
 jierpetual, long, nauseating swell, are the characteristics of 
 sea and sky, and one dav is as much like another in all out- 
 ward as{)ects as the proverbial two peas in a pod. 
 
 Before daylight we hear the deck hands war>hing off the 
 decks, for scrupulous neatness is one of the virtues of these 
 ocean steamers, then Ave know that there is time only to 
 stretch and yawn and co(]uette with Morpheus for a little 
 while before rising, for the early morning hours in these 
 tropical latitudes arc the choicest of the day and Ave Avould 
 make the most of them. 
 
 At six Avill come the salt AA'ater i)lunge. A huge canvas 
 ijath tub is arranged on the alter-deck, Avell screened from 
 eves polite bA' sail cloths ; and toAvard this novel bath mav 
 be seen stealing in the early hours certain nondescri[)t male 
 iigures clad in Indian ])ajamas. A large hose brings the 
 water in great volume straight from the briny ocean to the 
 flexible bath, so that every few minutes the water is 
 changed. Into this cool and Avholesome tank Ave plunge, 
 Avhile the umlulating deck continually splashes the Avater of 
 our bath into the sea again. But there is plenty left. AVe 
 need not fear a famine of salt Avater, or be sparing of the 
 refreshing fluid. If there is one thing of Avhich there is 
 enough in this Avorld, it is the Pacific Ocean. We are glad 
 to make such good use of a little of it. After the bath Ave 
 dress for breakfast, i)ronienade, read, write, or Avatch the 
 
m 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ;;< ;ii 
 
 44 
 
 APPALLING MONOTONY AT .MKAL TLAIE. 
 
 ever restless ocean, as the mood seizes us, until tiio gong for 
 breakfast sounds. 
 
 The ineals on shipboard are nuich like hotel meals on 
 shore; the different steamer lines vary just as hotels vary, 
 some having a good, some a bad, and some an indifferent 
 cuisine; but even on the best of steamers an appalling 
 monotony comes to ])revail after a little. The meals seem 
 to accentuate the sameness of the voyage. The fried sole 
 tastes like the mullet and the mullet like the cod ; the chops 
 and the steaks seem to be cut off of different sides of the 
 same animal, Jind to have been cooked in the same frying- 
 l)an ; the tea and the coffee are often of the railroad eating- 
 house order, and, on the whole, the less said about breakfast, 
 dinner, and supper at sea the better. Lot the gournuind 
 and o])icure beware of a long ocean voyage. Even the most 
 uncomplaining man may be excused foi' sighing for his 
 mother's honu^made broad and butter, and for milk drawn 
 from a cow instead of from a tin can. 
 
 Breakfast is soon over and then the passengers, except 
 those Avho lind their pleasure in the suKjking-room, stretch 
 out their steamer chairs and in turn stretch themselves out 
 on tliom, and the lazy life of a lazy day at sea begins. 
 
 '* J>ut why do you not arouse yourselves to intellectual 
 activity r' I liear ]\[rs, Bostonose ]Jrains inquire. ""What 
 glorious hours to read! AVhat high communion you may 
 have with Shakespeare and Milton, with Dante and Goethe ! 
 What rare oj>portunitios for writing and meditation and 
 communion with nature ! " " Ah, yes, my dear Mrs. Bi-ains, 
 that all sounds very avoU on paper, and doubtless if this 
 were a Avoi'k of fiction it would contain some rare passages 
 concerning the intellectual activity of its traveling hero and 
 heroine; how thev learned three lano-uaws bv the IMoister- 
 schaft System and conquered the intricacies of the Integral 
 
 n 
 
LAZV LIFE AT SKA. 
 
 45 
 
 Calculus, and becamo ]m)ficiont in Astronomy and Tliooso- 
 phy dui'ing a four Avoeks' voyage to Austi'alia, Hut this is a 
 veracious chronicle of actual fact, and, if it is not veiy Mat- 
 tering to the vo3'a<!^or8 to say it, it must be confessed that 
 tiiere is verv little stimulus to intellectual exertion on shii)- 
 board. Even the best sailors acknowle(l<>'<> this, and the 
 worst are too much occui)ied with a<^onized thoughts of tlicir 
 stomachs to expend much on the cultivation of their minds. 
 So, instead of iinding the deck transformed into a busy hive 
 of intellectual workers after breakfast, you will see a long 
 line of steamer chaii's, each Avith its lolling occupant, who 
 looks as though the chief end of man was to ])ass away the 
 time as comfortably and expeditiously as ])ossible. 
 
 "Books and work and healthful play" arc represented, 
 however, even on shipboard; the former, it must bo con- 
 fessed, mostly by volumes drawn from the Jfa/'!j)osa''s 
 library, which is signilicantly made up, nine parts of novels 
 and one pai't of books of travel. The "work" is repre- 
 sented by the crochet and emln'oideiy of the ladies, and 
 ''the plav" bv the two or three small bovs whoso natures 
 seem to be the same in mid-Pacific as anywhere else. 
 
 My young readers Avill like to know what games are in 
 vogue on shipboard. The standard games outside of the 
 smoking-i'oom are ring-toss and shuifle-board. King-toss 
 is too familiar to need description, but shurtle-board seems to 
 belong peculiarly to the ship's deck, and furnishes excellent 
 exercise for those who have some little muscle at command. 
 
 The game requires not only considerable muscular 
 power, and hence furnishes good exercise, but gives oc- 
 casion for much skill in knocking the opi)onent out, and 
 occupying the highest squares, for the motion of the ever- 
 undulating deck must be calculated, the roll to right or left 
 must be considered, and a light or Iieavv stroke with the 
 
I 
 
 Hi 
 
 If 
 
 
 ». ,s 
 
 46 
 
 GAMES UPON DECK. 
 
 cue must bo given, a(C()r(liu<^ us the vessel pitelies haeUwai'd 
 or forward. 
 
 Four usually play the game, and the implements are six 
 black and six white disks of solid wood, about six inches in 
 diameter and an inch thick, and lour crutch-like cues or 
 sticks with which to ])ush them along the deck. A space on 
 the deck is then marked off with chalk and numbered as 
 folhjws: 
 
 The ])layers stand some iif- 
 teen feet from this chalk-lined 
 figure on the deck, place their 
 disks on a line and try to 
 shove them into the squares 
 marked with the highest num- 
 bers. The great object is to 
 shove the enemy out, and land 
 your own disk within the cov- 
 eted square. At the end of 
 each bout the whites and 
 l)lacks reckon up their gains, 
 counting only the disks that 
 are wholly within the squares 
 and not touching any line, and the side that obtains sixty-one 
 points first is the winner. 
 
 1 do not know who the cliam[)ion shuffle-board ])la3'er of 
 the world may be, but he deserves to have his name in- 
 scribed on the immortal roll of base ball and tennis cham- 
 pions, who, I suppose, have made up their minds that their 
 earthly fame, at least, is secure. 
 
 At two bells (one o'clock) usually comes lunch, and at 
 four bells (six o'clock) comes dinner. These are more or less 
 imposing formalities, the social customs on some steamers 
 reciuiring evening dress for dinner. After dinner come the 
 
 
 10 
 
 ON 
 
 
 8 
 
 
 1 
 
 G 
 
 3 
 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 
 9 
 
 2 
 
 
 10 
 
 OFF 
 
 
 SIirKKLE-UOAUU. 
 
 < I 
 
I'I.EASANT EVENIX(J llOl'RS. 
 
 47 
 
 :\varc1 
 
 re six 
 lies in 
 lies or 
 lice on 
 red as 
 
 nne flf- 
 Iv-lined 
 ;e tlieii- 
 try to 
 squares 
 st num- 
 ct is to 
 nd land 
 the cov- 
 
 end of 
 es and 
 
 I' gains, 
 iks that 
 
 squares 
 ixty-one 
 
 )layer of 
 lame in- 
 is cham- 
 lat their 
 
 !■( 
 
 and at 
 
 or less 
 
 steamers 
 •onie the 
 
 choice hours of all the day. The glaring trojncal sun has 
 suidc to rest, the monotonous voice «>t" the ])o<)l auctioneer is 
 stilled, the ])assengers become social and friendly. All 
 nature is aglow; the ))hos|)horescent gleam a])|)ears whero- 
 ever the shi})'s prow ])arts the waves, the evening clouds 
 assume fantastic shapes on the western horizon, the rosy rays 
 of dej)arting day foretell a bright to-morrow, one by one the 
 southern stars come out and twinkle down upon a thousand 
 dancing wavelets, which, like so many tiny mirrors, catch u}> 
 their broken light and seiul it heavenward again. 
 
 Rick and forth, back and forth, over the unsteady 
 deck, ti-amj) tlu^ passengers, taking their evening constitu- 
 tionals, while the jiiano-girl thrums the keys inside the 
 social room, Avhich is too warm in these latitudes to 
 attract many visitors. In this way the evening jiasses 
 until bedtime comes, early or late, wliile the good ship 
 ])lunges on and ever on into the darkness, and through 
 the inky waves with their silver edges. Thus one of the 
 ])rosaic twenty-live days between San Francisco and Sydney 
 is numbered with the past. 
 
 But one day of the week on sea, as on shore, is unlike 
 every other. Hard as men try to secularize it, desperate as 
 the efforts are to degrade it, on sea as on shore it is still 
 George Herbert's : — 
 
 "Sweet daj-, so cool, so calm, so bright; 
 Bridal of earth and sky." 
 
 At least, such is it to the Christian heart. Whether the sun 
 shines, or the clouds lower, or the winds blow, it is still the 
 Sabbath, "bridal of earth and sky." Even the inveterate 
 gambler feels the difference. He dares not outrage the 
 sentiment of the day by rattling his poker chips, so he puffs 
 his cigar and sits around disconsolately on deck, complain- 
 ing that Siindav is the dreariest day of all the week. 
 
4R 
 
 "there was no more hea." 
 
 i I 
 
 >\\ 
 
 
 I 
 
 A\< 
 
 \i 
 
 TIm' ship must |)l()\v on Iut way, tlio suilors and dock- 
 liands and stowjirds must ^o thi'<)U<j^li their (hiily routine of 
 woi'k, l)ut oven they seoni to feel a ditToront atniosi)h(^ro, and 
 sonio of thoni join th(^ worshipiu'^- ))asson^('rs, who, at 
 eleven o'ehx-k, assemhU; in the social iiail for divine service. 
 How dillerent from our Sunchiv surrounding's on shore! 
 This unsteady cal)in for our sanctuary, a lla<i;-(h'aped shelf for 
 the ])ulpit, a few devout souls of <lilTei'ent nationalities, an<l 
 creeds almost as various as the iiulividuals, for worshipc^rs. 
 And yet there ai*e some things that are ever the same, (iod 
 is here. The boundless sea and inlinite skv only seem to 
 
 ft A.' 
 
 hi'ing Ilim nearer. Christ is liere, and "Jesus, Lover of my 
 tSoul," and *' Kock of A«,a^s," never sounded more sweeten 
 laiul. The spirit of devotion is the same when accentuated 
 by the solemn recjuiem of tlu; sea and the ceaseless swash of 
 the waves, as wIkmi boi'ue aloft by the music of the deep- 
 toned or<^an. 
 
 AVbat is the meaning of that text — "There was no more 
 sea"^ Some of the homesick, seasick passengers would like 
 to take it literally and believe that the Ilevelator meant to 
 state a fact in the physical geography of heaven. But with 
 vision clarified by many days on the ocean wave, can we not 
 see other meanings in the familiar text? The sea is a 
 symbol of separation. In the fair country of Avhich John 
 Avrote there will bo no separation of friend from friend ; for 
 '•there was no more sea." 
 
 The ocean is ty])ical of isolation. On this long voyage 
 we have not seen a single sail for weeks on the far-off 
 horizon. "We have been completely shut off from all man- 
 kind. The redeemed soul in heaven can never be set apart 
 by himself. lie is not shut u]) in solitary confinement. 
 There is no isolation of the " Saints in Light." " There was 
 no more sea." 
 
 ^^i 
 
ISOLATION — MYSTKKV — DANOKR. 
 
 49 
 
 The sea is svinl)()lic of mvstcrv. Strjii<'lit on into tiio 
 unknown \V(^ have been plun^nn;^ over sinco leaving San 
 Fi'ancisc'o. Only ten oi* a do/en miles into tlu> west towai'd 
 Avliieli we are constantly liastenin^^ can wo see iVoni the 
 steamer's <le{!k; all beyond the liori/(m is profoiindest 
 mystery, typical of mysteries no less jti'ot'ound in science 
 an<l faith, which snrround us on evei-y hand. In the land of 
 which John wrote all problems will be solved, all mysteries 
 will he cleared uj). " There was no more sea." 
 
 The sea, to the hindsman at least, will always mean 
 dan<!:ei'. Until ho becomes accustomed to their baseless 
 terrors the (ierce gale, the sadden huri'icane, the treacherous 
 ■wave, all seem waiting to engulf him. To the ancients in 
 their little shallo|)s these dangers nuist have been intensified 
 an<l (iuadru})led. J?nt John in the Kevelation saw a 
 counti'y where the inhabitants were never afraid — "There 
 was no more sea." 
 
 "Lord, bring us, when our voyage of life is ended, to 
 that blessed hand of Fi'iendshij) sui)ernal, of Knowledge un- 
 boundiul, of iSecurity eternal," is our })rayer on this Sabbath 
 on the sea. 
 
 f'-- 
 
:lii 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 
 4 
 
 ACROSS THE PACIFIC OCEAN — WELCOME AUSTRALIA. 
 
 The Joys of Terra Finna — The Phiyground of America — Bewildering 
 Vegetation — IJrown-sklnned Divers — Riiin and ^Missionaries — Ten to 
 One — The Future of the Hawaiian — Our l)ei)arture — "Fire, Fire" 
 
 — Between the Flames and the Sea — An Exciting liace for Life — 
 Tlie Navigators Islands — The First Glimpse — The Samcans as Nature 
 Mfide Them — Stalwart Oarsmen — On Shore Again —Costumes not 
 from Paris — Babies in Brown Coats — The Great Event of the Month 
 
 — A Splendid Race — The Sabbath Day Holy in Samoa — A Kingly 
 Romance — A Royal Salary — Tappa and Kava — An Appetizing Pro- 
 cess — Farewell to the Oasis — An Awful Storm — A Mournful Spectre 
 
 — Our Frolicsome Companions — A Week without a Wednesday — An 
 Exaggerated English Channel — New Zealand's Stern and Itugged 
 Shores — Goodbye Mariposa. 
 
 I* 
 
 I 
 
 HAT the green oases of the des- 
 ert with their sweet fountains 
 and their sentinel pahn trees are 
 to the traveler across the sandy 
 Sahara, such are two ports at 
 which tlie Oceanic steamers call, 
 to the voyager on Pacific waters. 
 These two oases are Honolulu in 
 the Sandwich Islands, and Apia 
 in the Samoan group. 
 
 After only seven days on the wil- 
 derness of waves wo can truth- 
 fully say with Tennyson : 
 
 "We have had enough of action and of motion ; Ave 
 Rolled to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free, 
 Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam fountains in the sea." 
 
 (50) 
 
 %■■■>■ 
 
 m 
 
AN OASIS IN THE DESERT OF WATERS. 
 
 51 
 
 
 % 
 
 "4. 
 
 and now, very early on the seventli niornint^ after the " God 
 InMvith you" soiukUhI in our ears from tlu; Sun Francisco 
 pier, we see a faint cloud-like form in the dim horizon. Is it 
 a cloud or a mountain ? Is it a mist-baidc or solid term 
 fir//i)i / The strengthen iu;^' dayligiit s( .m and joyously 
 resolves our doubts. That bhie cloud-like iiiountain is land; 
 solid, substantial, stable soil ; g-ood gritty ground, which we 
 are eag(?r to tread at the tirst possible moment. 
 
 We do not have long to wait, for soon the Mar'ipom 
 steams majestically into the harbor, dwarling with her huge 
 bulk all the little pigmy boats that come out to meet her, 
 and veiy (jnickly she is made fast to the Honolulu pier. 
 
 What a new workl we are in ! How suddenly our green 
 oasis has risen out of tlu^ blue desert of the waters ! It can- 
 not be that we are only 2,100 miles from San Francisco. 
 By all the ordinaiy analogies of travel Ave have come, at 
 least, twenty millions of miles. We could easily imagine 
 ourselves on a different planet. 
 
 The vegetation is strange, the people are unique, every 
 thing is dilferent from the land we have left. The drive, 
 rush, and nervous haste of an American city has given Avay 
 to the languor and luxurious ease of a tropical pleasure 
 ivsort. 
 
 As Switzerland is the summer playground of Europe, the 
 Saiulwich Islands some day will become the summer and 
 wintcM' playground alike of America, for, with its delicious 
 air and equable temperature, rarely too wai-m and never too 
 <'ool. uU seasons are its own. 
 
 What magnificent ])alm trees are these of almost count- 
 less varieties! Cocoanut palms, tall and stately, with the 
 \('llow nuts hiding far up uiuler the tufted fronds ; date palms 
 Avith their clusters of golden fruit ; royal palms with their 
 weeping plumes and tassels; breadfruit trees, alligator 
 
 J^ 
 

 O'^ DIVING FOR A NICKEL. 
 
 pears, tamarinds, and feathery alg-eroba trees (on Avliose 
 " husks '' tlie i)ro{ligal of the parable would fain liave fed). 
 Tlie variety is bewildei-ing to a traveler from temi)erate 
 climes. 
 
 The j)eoi)lo, too, always more interesting than trees or 
 vegetables, are as varied as the trees which wave their 
 "fronded palms" above them. The little naked, brown- 
 skinned divers on the wharf attract our attention iirst. 
 
 -,:,,^. ■^., ^. ^ -- -^^^ /^;^r^^2ws 
 
 ^"-■•>'^*'~- 
 
 
 ■■<r?--s^ " 
 
 .>Cai^!:i-t; 
 
 ^-->-«J^^ 
 
 
 
 YOUNG SWIMMEUS OK HONOLULU. 
 
 The}' are all ready, like little lads of fairer skins, to pick up 
 an honest penny Avherever they can lind it. So we toss a 
 nickel into the water and over they leap. A dozen brown 
 heads disaj)pear beneath the waves, two dozen whitey-brown 
 soles appear wriggling vigorously Avherc a second before 
 the heads appeared, a momentary but unseen struggle for 
 the coveted nickel takes place beneath the water, and then 
 
VICES AND VIRTUES OF CIVILIZATION. 
 
 53 
 
 liose 
 fed). 
 ;vatc 
 
 iS oi* 
 
 their 
 
 •oAvn- 
 
 lirst. 
 
 
 pick up 
 e toss a 
 l)ro\Yii 
 -brown 
 before 
 o-o-le foi* 
 uul then 
 
 ■'?• 
 
 1 
 
 the little brown heads bob u}) serenely, antl the brown hand 
 of the victorious urchin appears above the brine, holding up 
 the ]>iece of money to show that he is the winner, before he 
 dcjiosits it in that ever ready bank — his mouth. Then, 
 with his companions, he is ready for another dive and 
 another struggle for the coveted piece of silver. 
 
 Brt we must not linger on the steamer or on the wharf, 
 for there are equally novel sights on shore. There is China- 
 town Avith its swarming Celestials, Portuguese settlements 
 with their swarthy, gaily bedecked inhabitants, beautiful 
 American and English homes embowered in palms and trop- 
 ical plants of all kinds, and the quarters of dusky natives in. 
 scanty clothing and with gay wreaths around their hats, 
 haj)py, improvident, good-natured, and lazy. 
 
 Tiie lover of the picturesque in human nature, as well as 
 in nature physical and geographical, can find enough to 
 interest him for many a day in Honolulu. 
 
 Are the natives destined to extinction? Ah, that is a. 
 (juostion that only thne will solve. But, if they are, it must 
 l>e remembered that it will be due to civilization's vices and 
 not to civilization's virtues or Christ's religion. 
 
 When it is borne in mind that even before Capt. Cook's 
 advent, the islands and the islanders had passed the climax of 
 their glory as a race; that they were engaged in destructive 
 Will's with each other which were sometimes wars of extermi- 
 nation ; when we remember that probably ten ship loads of 
 luni have been sent out from Christian England and America 
 t'oi" every missionaiy they have dispatched; that it has taken 
 tlio Latin races eighteen centuries, and the Saxon races 
 ni'iu'ly as long, to reach their present unstable Christian 
 'iluiUbriuni, and tlieir still im])erfect civilization; we are 
 siii'pi'ised. not that tlie islanders ai'e so imperfect and so 
 l>i'oiie to fetisiiism and idolatrv, but that in a few vears 
 
1 
 
 
 54 
 
 FROM HONOLULU TO APIA. 
 
 I > 
 
 h\ 
 
 they have Jicquirod so much of the Spirit of Ilim who \v;is 
 pure and harmless and undeliled, and who went about doiuy- 
 good. The missionary influence is still strong- in this beauti- 
 ful land, and it shows no signs of waning. 
 
 IVLiny of the most beautiful residences are oAvned by 
 nussionaries' sons, Avho are h)yal to the faith of their fatiiers, 
 and nnich of the business of the islands is in the hands of 
 these Christian men. They are influential in the halls of 
 legislation and shape the aifairs of government. So long as 
 such men are to the fore there is confident hope for this 
 lovely oasis of the Pacific Desert. 
 
 But the Ifarijwsa's warning whistle sounds; we must 
 liasten to the wharf. As we stepped aboard, our friends, 
 according to the beautiful Hawaiian custom, covei'ed us with 
 garlands of jasmine and sweet-scented leaves, and loaded us 
 with fi'uits and beautiful flowers. The royal Hawaiian l)and 
 of forty ])ieces played "God Save the Queen" and "The 
 Star S[)angled Banner," and we were off once more across 
 the watery waste, bound foi* another paradise of the Pacific 
 — Samoa. 
 
 At about equal distances are these two oases situated 
 between San Francisco and Svdnev, — Honolulu twentv-one 
 hundred miles from America, A])ia twenty-one hundred 
 miles, or seven days, further. But, though we are sailing 
 over summer seas and there is little to distui'b the dreamy 
 monotony of this particular journey, let not the reader think 
 that the voyages are always uneventful. 
 
 Such was not the case on that voyage of the Mariposa, 
 when very early in the morning, so early in fact that only 
 the sailors of the morning watch heard it, the dreadful ci'y 
 of "Fire — lire" resounded throughout the ship, and, on 
 opening the hatchway, a ( ense volume of black smoke 
 ])oured uj), stifling all who came too near. The hose Avas 
 
 
 I 
 
AN AWFUL SECRET. 56 
 
 turned on, hut the hn<^e streain of wtiter luid no effect on 
 tlie l)uriiing- flax which composed the ciirgo. Then tlie 
 hatches were l>attened down, a small hole bored through 
 the ])artition, and a steam ])\\)e turned in ui)ori the tire, but 
 that was eiiually useless. Several men who went below to 
 hoist u|) the burning bales of flax were asphyxiated, and 
 <vith much exertion were brought back to life again. At 
 hMigth the captain, seeing that nothing could prevail, 
 g as st()pj)e(l up evei'V p(jssible crevice leading to the cargo, 
 
 this turned his vessel about, and steamed for Auckland, the 
 
 nearest })ort, more than thi-ee hundred miles distant. 
 
 What can be more awful than a shi]) on Are in mid- 
 ocean i Between the two devouring elements, who can hope 
 to escape i The unpitying fire within, the remorseless sea 
 \vithout! For those who knew it, what jhi awful secret 
 must the knowledge of that smouldering cargo have been? 
 JUit few com])ai'atively knew of the disaster. With rare 
 pi'esence of mind Capt. Hayward and his officers kept the 
 matter to themselves. The good ship fairly seemed to leap 
 tiirough the water. Never did she do better credit to her 
 uated -M builders. She seemed to realize that she was racing for life, 
 
 tv-one :^ The passengers — most of them — did not notice that she 
 
 undred J had turned about and Avas headed west instead of east, 
 
 sailing m Tlie captain suggested a concert in the evening to divert 
 
 reamy '"m attention, and it ^vas carried out in the highest style of 
 
 think j^ nautical art. The awful secret was blazing in the hold, 
 
 and the tell-tale smoke sometimes esca])ed and wreathed 
 r'qwsa, ^^H itself above the deck. And still the Jlarljxmi plowed on 
 it only ^^ "ii'l on and on, until at last the welcome headlands of 
 ful cry JS Auckland harbor loomed up and the Avharf was safely 
 ind, on ^^m I'caclicd : the treacherous cargo was discharged, and two 
 
 smoke JB Inmdred lives that hung on a thread so slender were 
 
 ose was -MM saved. 
 
5G 
 
 PALMS AND CORAL REEFS. 
 
 It was soon after noon on a gray and squally day that 
 we first caufflit siifht of the hills that rise behind the town 
 of Apia, and, after that, with the eagerness of landsmen 
 long at sea, Ave could not keep our eyes off the enchanting 
 spectacle. Little by little, the encircling bay of Apia with its 
 fringe of majestic i)alms, its outer coral reef on which the 
 surf was dashing high, and its row of native huts interspersed 
 with a few European cottages, came into view, and we feasted 
 our eyes to our hearts' content on this lovely shore. Imme- 
 diately behind the village rises a conical hill, some six 
 or eight hundred feet high, and in front the shore is lap})ed 
 by the bright azure-tinted water, whose depths sparkle with 
 coral and sea anemones and bright-colored fish. 
 
 But we are still more interested in the Samoans than in 
 Samoa ; in men and women and boys and girls, than in hills 
 and palm trees and coral reefs and fishes. And here they 
 come : Samoans of both sexes and of all ages, for the arrival 
 of the monthly mail steamer is a great event in Apia. Some 
 of them are in neatly painted Avhite rowboats, but most of 
 them put off to meet us in their native dug-outs, long, shal- 
 low, and exceedingly narrow boats that Avould tip over in a 
 twinkling, even though the oarsman's hair might be parted 
 in the middle, were it not for the inevitable outrider with 
 Avhich they are all rigged. This outrider consists of a long 
 piece of light cork-like wood, nearly the length of the canoe, 
 attached to it with braces at each end. In these light, frail 
 canoes the natives ride in the greatest security and go 
 through the heaviest surf. "What a picturesque sight it is I 
 There is a young girl Avith a bright shawl about her Avaist 
 sitting as composedly and as self-poised as a queen in her 
 little canoe, Avliile around her feet is a Avealth of cocoanuts, 
 mangoes, ])ineapples, and bananas, which she offers for sale 
 in a dignified Avay ; a Avliole bunch of the latter " for tAvo 
 
 i?': 
 
SAMOAN SURF BOATS AND BOATMEN. 
 
 57 
 
 bits " (twenty-five cents). There is another hirge boat ap- 
 proaching bearing some official from the ishind, and rowed 
 by lialf a dozen stalwart, bronze-colored natives, whose bare 
 skins, rubbed down with abundant cocoanut oil, glisten in 
 the sunlight. Their muscles stand out like whipcord as 
 they vow in perfect time and splendid form, the despair of 
 any Yale or Harvard crew that might witness the sight. 
 There is another native boat loaded with fresh fish, neatly 
 bundled u}) in huge green leaves, while sparkling shells and 
 coral branches make np the rest of her little cargo. And here 
 is a native Avho somehow lias scrambled aboard the Mar'qwsa 
 in s])ito of the efforts of the crew to keep him off, and he 
 jabbers and gesticulates at us in true hackman style. We 
 could not understand a word he said, but the unspoken 
 language of a cabman is the same the world over, so we 
 accepted his offer, which Ave understood was to take us 
 ashore for "two bits," the universal standard of value in 
 these regions. We crawled down the ship's side by the 
 rope ladder, aided by two strong pair of arms, and were 
 soon landed at the little pier. 
 
 There a strange and novel sight, indeed, greeted our 
 evos. The Avharf and the streets were swarming Avith 
 natives, young and old, in all kinds of costumes and in no 
 costumes at all, who had come down to the water's edge to 
 see the great event of the month, the arrival of the mail 
 steamer from America. If ever there Avas a picturesque 
 throng of people this Avas one. The Mother llubl)ard dress 
 seemed to be the most popular for the Avomen, and for some ^ 
 of the men, too, for that matter, but as foAV could indulge in 
 such vanities as an everyday affair there Avere all kinds of 
 vai'iations from the standard mode. 
 
 One man strutted proudly by Avith as much dignity as a 
 lieau Brummel or a Lord Chesterfield could assume, Avith a 
 
68 
 
 STALWAUT AND GENTLE CHKISTIAN PEOPLE. 
 
 pioce of the native ta])pa thrown no<,^li^ently across liis 
 shoulders; anotlier stalked past with a l)riyht red tablecloth 
 about his loins; a group of young girls evidently just out 
 from the mission school, went ti'ij)piiig j)ast arrayed in a 
 ])iece of white cloth, with a beautiful garland of llowers 
 across their shoulders, while babies were invariably arrayed 
 solely in the beautiful brown coat which nature first gave 
 them. 
 
 The Samoans are a s[)lendi(l race, physically considered ; 
 the most stalwart, as well as the most gentle of all the 
 South Sea Islanders. I did not see a sinf-le u<>lv or ma- 
 lignant face during my stay at A])ia. Ilc^mely features 
 there are as in every crowd, but few malevolent, vicious, 
 sinister faces; smiling looks, unsus])ici(nis manners, intelli- 
 gent and even courtly ])oliteness I saw everywhere. 
 
 After seeing these jneii and women I could easily l)elieve 
 what had been told me — ^that all the natives were Chris- 
 tians. About five thousand of them are Catholic, five 
 thousand moi'c are Wesle3'ans, and the rest of the forty 
 thousand inhabitants are under the care of the London Mis- 
 sionary Society, Avhich, thi'ough its excellent missionaries, 
 most admirably looks after their spiritual interests. "Oh, 
 but they are only nominal Christians," I can hear my skej)- 
 tical reader exclaim. Well, dear reader, if Ave may judge 
 them by their fruits their Christianity is not so "nominal" 
 as that of most of the peopki who live in New York and 
 Boston, Chicago and San Francisco. If our steamer had en- 
 tered the harbor of A])ia on a Sunday not a single canoe or 
 gaily decked native would have come out to welcome lis. 
 Not a cocoanut or a bunch of bananas would have been 
 offered for sale. All the canoes would have been hauled up 
 on the beach, liigh and dry, and at church time every man, 
 woman, and child in the place, barring the sick, would have 
 
T 
 
 A COMPARISON IN FAVOR OF THE SAMOANS. 
 
 59 
 
 his 
 •loth 
 ■j out 
 in iv 
 )\vers 
 I'tivcd 
 
 gave 
 
 leved; 
 jl the 
 )!• ina- 
 nit lives 
 acious, 
 intelli- 
 
 , believe 
 . Chvis- 
 ic, live 
 He forty 
 on Mis- 
 oniu'ies, 
 - Oh, 
 IV skep- 
 y judge 
 oniinal" 
 ovk and 
 had en- 
 canoe or 
 [come us. 
 ive been 
 uiuled up 
 ery man. 
 ukl have 
 
 l)een seen wending their way to church. Not sucii a nom- 
 inal religion is that which thus remembers the Sabbath day 
 to keep it holy. 
 
 If we should enter anv one of these native huts at break- 
 fast time we should see all tlie heads reverently ho wed 
 while the Divine Blessing was asked, and afterwards all the 
 family would come together for morning prayers. If we 
 should live among them we should find them honest, gentle, 
 peaceable, kind-hearted, affectionate neighbors. Not merely 
 nominal Christian graces are these. 
 
 To be sure thev have their faults. Thev are lazv and 
 improvident. The family tie is not observed as it should be, 
 and doubtless they have minor blemishes. Hut tell me, dear 
 Mrs. Beacon Street or jVlr. Fifth Avenue, are you ready to 
 cast the lirst stone? The white lif^ht of Chi-istianitv has 
 been beating upon your head and tlie heads of your ances- 
 tors for eighteen hundred years. It is but little more than 
 sixty years since the Sun of Kighteousness arose upon 
 Samoa. You, all 3'our lives, have been inhaling the air of 
 C'hristlike devotion, which once made the martyrs strong to 
 do and dare for God. These peo})le, until within sixty 
 years, have lived in the fetkl atmosphere of heathenism. 
 For many generations your forefathers have been growing 
 sti'ong while feeding on the Bread of Life. Only one gener- 
 ation has passed away since the symbolic bread was broken 
 and the emblematic wine was first poured in Samoa. Who 
 will doubt the power of Christianity, or deride the value of 
 missionary labor after studying the history of Samoa? And 
 yet there are self-sufficient, purblind people Avho, with an air 
 of knowing all about it, Avill tell you that the missionaries 
 liiive done more harm than good, that they are responsible 
 for the gradual extinction of the natives, and that when 
 converted, the natives are not worth the labor expended. 
 
I ' 
 
 CO 
 
 ROYAL VICISSITUDES. 
 
 One finds many men and women who talk in this way 
 on the very steaniei's which visit those islands, and amon^ 
 those wiio actuallv see tliese transfoi'minf"- wonders of Cliris- 
 tianity. I have always noticed, however, that the men Avho 
 talk thus spend most of their time in the smokin<^-room 
 playinj^ ])oker or betting on the ship's run, while the women 
 who express such opinions seem to have no souls above the 
 fancy work or the ])ack of cards they hold ifi their hands. 
 I, for one, should be jjorfectly willing to set otf Sanioan 
 moralitv aijainst theirs. 
 
 The Mariposa only remained in A])ia long enough to 
 exchange mails and dischai'ge a little freight, s(j wo luul but 
 one or two brief, delightful hours on shore. P)Ut these were 
 enough to lill us with a longing to spend as many Aveeks. 
 However, we had time to see the long straggling street ; the 
 new native church, a beautiful and commodious stone struct- 
 nre; the consulates and land commissioners' offices of 
 the three powers, America, I^ngland, and Germany, that 
 really govern Samoa; the beautiful grounds and pleasant 
 buildings of the London ]\[issionary Society, and the royal 
 Imt of King IMalietoa sui'i-ounded by palm trees and luxuri- 
 ant tropical ])lants of all kinds. This good King, like some 
 sovereigns of more extensive domains, has had his ups and 
 downs. Nearly twenty years ago he was elected King, and 
 for about ten years he reigned in tranquillity, protected by 
 treaties with Germany, England, and the United States. 
 Tlien, however, owing to the interference of the Germans, 
 who had cast a covetous eye on Samoa, which Uncle Sam 
 was none too quick to see and to resent, feuds arose, a rival 
 claimant tried to seize the sceptre, and King Malietoa was 
 sent as an exile to a distant island in the western Pacific. 
 But Germany's avaricious plans were frustrated, the spuri- 
 ous claimant whom she had supported was defeated, and 
 
CLOTH PROM MULBERRY BARK. 
 
 61 
 
 iMalietoa was bi'(>u<,^lit back and ro-ostablislied on liis tlirone, 
 which was then protected by the presence of a man-of-war 
 from the United States Navy. lie is a good and thoughtful 
 (Christian man, who sets a kingly example to all his peo[»le. 
 I am glad to hear that his siilary has just been raised and 
 that he now receives the royal sum of one hundred tlollars a 
 inontli. 
 
 Wiiile we \vere on shore a slight shower arose — a very 
 common occurrence in Apia — and as Ave wei-e without 
 umbrellas or mackintoshes we sougiit shelter in a friendly 
 native hut, which consists simply of a thatched I'oof oj)en on 
 every side to the winds of heaven. We were received with 
 the utmost politeness, and though there were no chairs or 
 lounges, and we were obliged either to stand or to sit on the 
 floor, we felt none the less Avelcome. While thus taking- 
 shelter we bought from one of the natives a large square of 
 taj)pa, the native cloth, which is ingeniously made of the 
 innoi* l)ark of a mulberry tree. This bark is first laitl in the 
 bed of a running stream to soak. After a sufficient time the 
 pieces of bark are laid, layer 1)V layer, upon a log, and 
 then beaten out to the Avidtli required by heavy wooden 
 mallets. When the strips have been beaten for some time 
 they become blended into one mass, which, by the addition 
 <jf fresh bark, can be increased in length and width as 
 required. 
 
 Ill the beautiful museum at Honolulu the Curator has 
 arranged squares of this tappa, which are dyed in all imagin- 
 able beautiful colors, in a Avindow through Avhich the 
 Avestern light shines. At a little distance one can hardly 
 believe that it is not delicate stained glass. 
 
 Another peculiar product of Samoa is kava, the South 
 Pacific native drink. Miss Emma A. Adams in her pleasant 
 little book about Fiji and Samoa tells hoAV it is made: — 
 
I 
 
 !|l J 
 
 I ! 
 
 I ; 
 
 62 
 
 **WEAK TEA AND MFCDICATED MOAPHl'DH." 
 
 '' Kiivii is [)r('[)ai'('(l tVoiii the root of a species of pepper 
 tree, lomid on most of tlieso groups. The shi-iil) attains a 
 luM«^ht of live or six feet, and has a [)retty green foliage, 
 tinged with pni'j)Ie. TIh; I'oot, having been thoi'onghly 
 washed, is cut in small sliees, which are distrihuted to young- 
 persons with perfect teeth to be masticated, i)y which pro- 
 cess they are reduced to a complete |)nlp. Mouthful after 
 
 
 . '■ '"'^v'jj''!^' ''^; ,)i;"iii(((jij)j'P>\>im''#'Mii;,il;,o/^, ; 
 
 HAMOAN (ilKl.S MAKINd KAVA. 
 
 mouthful of these little pulpy masses is thrown into a large 
 bowl, ceremoniously [)lacod in front of the one who is to 
 serve the beverage, and water is tiien poured upon thein. 
 Tlie mass is now worked witii the hand until all the strength 
 and vii'tue of the iibre is expressed, when it is deftly strained 
 awav with a bunch of lono- fibre fi-om the inner bark of the 
 hibiscus, and the licpiid is now i-eady for drinking. Its 
 appearance is like that of weak tea, its taste like that of 
 medicated soapsuds." AVill you have a cu]), my reader? 
 
THK Fl'UV OK A TROPICAL STOUM. 
 
 68 
 
 liut our brief respite from tlio jlesert of tlie sea is nearly 
 ov(?r. Our lioui- in the Oasis is spent and the deep-toned 
 whistU'of the Marljiom calls us on hoard amain. 
 
 Reluctantly we tear ourselves away from our brief 
 glimpse of paradise, but g-o we must. On the way back to 
 the steamer we ])ass the ^aunt and mournful spectre of the 
 Adlei', one of the unfortunate Ciernum men-of-war, wiiich, in 
 the awful gale of ^farch !.'», 1SS!>, was lifted bodily from the 
 water and with great fury cast up(m tiie toj) of tin; reef and 
 
 ■v^'L 
 
 
 AM- THAT UKMAIN8 OK TlIK " AI)M:H." 
 
 turned over on her side. There she still lies, her poor ribs 
 exposed and l)are, with the daylight shining through them 
 everywhere, an awful spectacle of the fury of a tropical 
 storm in this quiet bay. Near by, but under the waves, lies 
 her companion gunboat, the J'Jur, and the two United States 
 steamers, Vandalia and Trenton, which were wrecked and 
 uttei'ly destroyed in tlie same fearful y:ale in which there 
 jierished four American officers and forty-seven men, and 
 nine German officers and eighty-seven men. Nine hundred 
 men were saved from the wrecked shipping in the harbor, 
 who were provided for with the utmost generosity and 
 
't; 
 
 64 
 
 UOUNDLKSS SKIKS AND KNDLliSS HKAS. 
 
 'H'Im: 
 
 I ■! 
 
 liuiiumity Ity tlic^ iiiitivc; Siuiiojins nud IIk^ I'oi'ci^n j'csidcJits. 
 As llic Mni'ipoxd stejiiMS out of I lie (|iii('t (M)i*iil itcI' with llio 
 frail niitiv(^ hojits <liui(;in<^ all ahoiil her, it is li;ii(l lo i-calizc! 
 that this pcaccriil l»;iy Wiis cvci' the scene ol' such <lev;islat i?i<^ 
 fiirv. 
 
 Now we iiiity coM^l'Mtiiliile ourselves lliiit we iii'e moro 
 thitii li;iir w;iy to Sydney, more than live thousand miles 
 behind us, less than three thousand miles hefoi-e us. IJoinid- 
 less skies ahove us, endless seas around us; that, is the; 
 liistoi'v of th(i next, six <lays. ISoundless skies decked hy 
 many a, cloud and some! imes ei'ay and an^ry with the Stoi'm 
 Kin^^'s wi-alh; endless seas llecked hy never a sail and dark 
 <'ned hy no trailing' steamei's' smoke, toi', sa\ine' the Ai'ctic 
 and Antarctic; seas, we ar<i on the loneliest- ocean of all. 
 
 Oidy an o(!casional school of eainholinir dolphins, "ski]) 
 jacks" the sailors ajipropriately call them, eidiven the secant;. 
 In tlx' jx-rfect abandon of <^'ood spirits tlu^y chas(! each other 
 through the watei', tund)l(^ over each other, divt; undei' (!ach 
 other, and sometimes hear down u|ion the ship, lea|>in;^ hieh 
 in the air and tui'iiiii".;' their yellow bellies to tin; sun for the 
 iiH!i'(! fun of the thine', ;is bo\s dive oil' a loiJ' onc^ alter the 
 other to W(»rk oil' theii* animal spirits. Then al'tei' (;hasiiie- 
 the slii|) for a do/en miles or mor(\ they disappear as 
 suddenly as tlu^y cann' and leave us to the sole companion- 
 ship of the mild-eyed, curious albatross, which circles 
 around and around and ai'ound ami sonu^timc'S falls behind 
 but nevei' allows tlu; steamer to ii'ct out, of siu'hl. The last 
 thin<^ at ni<^'ht oui* albatrosses ai'e thei'e, sometinu's follow- 
 ing ii, our wake, sometimes circline' ovei' our very heads. 
 The lii'st thin<^ in \\\k\ mornine-, jiowovei" eai'ly w<' rise, ther*; 
 th(3y Jin; aeain, tlui most ei'ji('(>fid bii'ds that lly, just liftine' 
 thoir wiiif^s and steej'in*^- their course; and allowin<^ tlio wind, 
 apparently, to do all the work of Hying' for them. 
 
 i -I 
 
SIX DAYS MARK ONK WKKK. 
 
 65 
 
 Tims convoVMHl wo sidled on oxer llit^ \vjit(Ty wasto. 
 The necessities of l()n<;it ti<lin:il i'e('i<(»nin;^- <^jiv«! ns om; week 
 without a WiMliUisday. We went to l>e(l one Tuewlay ni<,'lit 
 and wal<e<l np «»n Tlinrsday morning- and yet we liad only 
 slept our re^idation eij^lil lioni's. My readei's, who will 
 iviriend)ei' that we pass the ISO' ineridian of lon^itmhi 
 iu'lween Samoa, and AiicUiand, will nndei'stand the ceasoti 
 
 A MAOIll llorSK. 
 
 lot' this week' with otdy six days in it. I'.nt this week was 
 (|iiil(' ion^' eii()ii;^'li. We are very I'eady to spare one day out 
 of it, and very wiliin;^' to welcome the l»hiir and I'u^^i^^cid 
 shores of New Zealand on the sixth day onl from Samoa. 
 
 Tliis wondei'TuI island, whose shores look' not mdike tlu'; 
 rucklioiiiid const of our own New I'!n<i'land, deserves lo hav<i 
 ;i whole hook devoted to it. lis Wonderful iialiu'al r(^- 
 siiiu'ccs. its cm'ious vej^ctahle and animal products, its war- 
 like race of natives, the lierce Maoi'is, and its intrepid atid 
 ciiti'iprisiiin' colonists, who have alreadv made New Zealand 
 
66 
 
 IX THE STREETS OF AUCKLAND. 
 
 ' 
 
 one of tlife bri<,ditest jewels in Her Majesty's crown, tempt 
 the chronicler's })en to linger long. But we only had time 
 to see the line, solidly built streets of Auckland, with its fine 
 business l>l(5cks, its handsome government buildings, and its 
 great tabernacle erected by llev. Thomas S})urgeon, a son of 
 
 * •/ '. SS'i: a** - 
 
 
 
 MAORI IDOLS. 
 
 the famous preacher ; to receive a most hearty welcome 
 from Auckland's ministers, and lay Christian workers, to 
 attend a thoroughly enthusiastic Christian Endeavor meet- 
 ing in the Ponsonby IJaptist Church, and then we were off 
 again ; always off, for the restless Maripom will never 
 be satisfied until she reaches her dock at Sydney. 
 
 Then came five days more of ocean traveling across the 
 
« 
 
 SAFE ^\ ITHIN THE HARBOR OF SYDNEY, 
 
 07 
 
 Avide and tiirlndent cliamiel that stretches between Xew 
 Zeahmd and Australia. This particular strip of water has 
 a very had re])utation. It is considered a kind of exagger- 
 ated English Channel, and my readei's who have experienced 
 the bitterness of that piece of salt water between Xewhaven 
 and Diepj^e, or Dover and Calais, will understand all the 
 miseries which such a voyage inn)lies. Think of spending 
 five days tossing about like an intoxicated cork on the 
 English Channel, and you will know something of Avhat the 
 vovage between Auckland and Svdnev often is. But, fortu- 
 iiately, on this voyage Neptune did not seriously test our 
 courage or our seanuxnshi]). "We had bright skies and com- 
 paratively smooth seas, and on the morning of the fifth day 
 from iVuckland and the twentv-fifth from San Francisco, 
 "land ahead" was the welcome cry; Svdnev Heads loomed 
 u]) in the distance ; we found our way through the narrow 
 channel which Capt. C\)ok so narrowly missed a hundred 
 years ago, and, after three and one-half weeks of rolling and 
 tossing and pitching and heaving on the vast Pacific, found 
 ourselves safe within the s])lcndid land-locked har])or of 
 Sydney, to which our good ])ilot had steered over 7,0U0 miles 
 of trackless lonely waves. 
 
 Goodbye, JLirijuMt. "Welcome, Australia. 
 

 CII AFTER III. 
 
 A NEW CONTINENT — FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AUSTRxVLIA. 
 
 A New Continent — A Magiiiticent Harbor — Torres' Mistake — The 
 Flight of the Dove — "The Endeavor" — An Important Astronomi- 
 cal Discovery — A Vast Noah's Ark — Great Grandfather Animals — 
 The Bushman and His Fate — What the Savage could not do — Un- 
 certain Rain and Certain Drought — Australian Oddities — Confused 
 Trees — Topsy-Turvyness — Preconceived Notions — The Englishman 
 the World Over — The Evolution of the Yankee Drawl — Colonial 
 Days — " The Great American Desert " — Mother and Daughter — How 
 the Old Lady Treats Her Child — English or American — Architectural 
 DilTerences — Big Names — " Elevator" or " Lift " — " Barber's Shop " 
 "Tonsorial Palace" — American Inventions iu Australia — The Home 
 of Anarchy and Unrest — Country Life versus City Life — The " Bluey" 
 and the " Billy " — The " Larrikin " — A "New Chum " — Modesty Be- 
 coming a Literary New Chum. 
 
 TRAVELER'S first impressions 
 of a new land, while not always 
 the most accurate, are usually 
 the most vivid and interesting. 
 How many pulses have thrilled 
 with curiosity and pleasure as 
 they have seen the rough coast 
 of old Ireland for the first time 
 Avlien a])proaching the Old AVorld 
 from the New, for there in the 
 shadowy distance, somewhere be- 
 hind the frowning cliffs of Erin, 
 lies all the mystery of antiquity, all the historic asscK'iations 
 of 2,000 vears. In fact, the accumulation of (i.odO vears ol' 
 history and civilization are represented by that little stormy 
 
 ( <iS ) 
 
SYDNEY HKADLANDS AND HAKBOR. 
 
 09 
 
 sti'ip of" Irish coast to tlio Yoviigor from the hmd Avliich has 
 lew .iiKMUiiiieiits Jind no ruins, iiiid only ji brief liistoiy. 
 
 With every ne\v huul one aitproaches, these lirst impres- 
 sions are rencAved, and so Avheii the l)hilf Hues of Sydney 
 Heads rear themselves on the horizon we eagerly crane our 
 necks and strain our eyes for a glimpse of the new Australian 
 (.ontinent which is about to open before us. We do not have 
 to wait long for a fuller revelation of the fair vision, for 
 very soon after the headlands are sighted we steam in be- 
 tween the two sentinels that guai'd the magnificent land- 
 locked harbor of Svdney. 
 
 >yo wonder that the New South Welchmen are proud of 
 their harbor, "as proud as though they had scooped it out 
 themselves," as some one has ill-naturedly I'emai'ked. It is 
 one of the harbors that cannot be overpraised. A small dic- 
 tionai'v of adjectives might be em])tied in)on the description 
 and it would scarcely be overdone. 
 
 It has hundreds of miles of coast line, and on the map 
 looks like a great octopus which has been flattened out by 
 some tremendous kind of liydraulic ])ressure, whose arms 
 aad tentacles run far u[) into the country, affording number- 
 less beautiful bays and lovely retreats, Avhich, in many 
 places, are as wild and rugged as when ra])t. Cook iirst 
 sailed by the narrow entrance; for it is a singular fact that 
 this bold navigator, though he discovered Botany Bay only 
 a few miles distant, entirely passed by this most wonderful 
 liai'bor, so straight and narrow is the way that leads to it 
 from the oi)en sea. 
 
 Ill fact, the early navigators all seem to have had diffi- 
 culty ill iinding this great continent. One wouhl think that 
 a niagnilicent stretch of land which occupies so large a por- 
 tion of the earth's surface could have been easily discovered, 
 esiiecially by those who are searching for it, but in those 
 
70 
 
 SKILLFUL PILOTING OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 |! 
 
 ■.. 
 
 days in the little sliall()])s that wore at the command of the 
 explorers, it was no easy thin<^ to discover even such a vast 
 island as Australia. 
 
 To-day the navigator sets sail from San Francisco, 7,000 
 miles away, and, precisely on schedule time, to a single hour 
 ])robal)ly, with trusty compass and skillful })ilot, he will steer 
 .straiglit througli the middle of the narrow passage that 
 leads to the city <^f Sydney, But 800 years ago, without 
 chart ov j»ilot, it was a ditfei'ent thing to feel one's way 
 across these misty, unknown seas at the mercy of the uncer- 
 tain sails and the certain gales of the Southern Pacilic. 
 Although it seems that he could not have missed the island 
 <'ontinent he was searching for, yet it is said that Torres, the 
 l)()ld navigator, sailed directly through the narrow strait 
 Avliidi now bears liis name, and which separates Australia 
 from j\ew (luinea, without knowing that there was land on 
 <'itlier side; certainly without knowing that he was almost 
 Avithin sift-ht of one of tiie mightiest divisions of the earth's 
 .surface, lie missed the glory by a hair's breadth, as it were, 
 of adding to his laurels and perhaps giving his name to a 
 continent. 
 
 Otlier early navigators had the same difficulty in finding 
 this elusive land. The Dutch in the Dreyfhen^ or Dove, a 
 little vessel which stretched its wings and flew away from 
 Holland in the year lOOO, first saw the main land of Aus- 
 tralia, but the Dutch had no use for it, and did not think it 
 worth while to claim possession. 
 
 Perha])s from theii" stan(l])oint of a home-land half sub- 
 merged with water, they did not appreciate such a high and 
 <lry continent as Australia proved to be. At any rate they 
 made no attempt to explore or colonize the land, and it was 
 left to Captain Cook, more than 150 years later, to make the 
 first discovery which was really of value to the European 
 
THE NOAH S ARK OF THE NATURALIST. 
 
 71 
 
 world. Tie set sail in the little ship ^)i<7t'«vo;* ; suggestive 
 name tluit, considering the purpose Avhicli has taken the 
 wi'iter of this chronicle to Australia. II is ])rincipal purpose 
 was to make (observations in regard to the transit of Venus 
 which was not visible in the AVestern Hemisphere, but he 
 combined discovery with Jistronomy, and not only proved 
 from the transit of Venus that the sun was something more 
 thiiii ninety millions of miles away from the earth, a dis- 
 tance which, up to that time, had not been accurately meiis- 
 iircd. but also proved that there was a vast unknown land in 
 in these southern seas waiting for the first occujoant who 
 nii<;ht raise the luitional Hag and take possessi<m in the 
 name of modern civilization and Christianity. 
 
 Geolofficallv, Australia is said to bo one of the oldest 
 portions of the earth's surface, and in its ])hysical aspects 
 and natural ])roducts it is extremely interesting to the nat- 
 ui'ulist. In fact, it is a kind of Noah's Ark in which has 
 been preserved the animals and the plants which hmg ago 
 died out of Europe and America. The animals which in 
 th»! older world flourished in the secondary and tei'tiary 
 |)('riod. but which are now as extinct as the Dodo himself, 
 arc still found in large numbers in this land. The kangaroo 
 iiiid tli(> wallaby and all the allied races of marsupials which 
 once were common in Europe and America, are distinctive 
 and characteristic animals of Australia. 
 
 Th(^ I'cason, says the naturalist, for this strange survival 
 of these great-grandfather animals which long ago gave up 
 the ghost in Europe, is, that Australia has not been sub- 
 jected to such fearful convulsions of nature as the rest of the 
 woild. She has not been drowned out by the flood or 
 ground down by the glacier, or had all her animal and vege- 
 table life frozen up in a great ice age ; so these interesting 
 animals of a pre-historic period still live and flourish on her 
 

 72 
 
 NATURE HOSTILE TO THE SAVACJE. 
 
 vast inliind ])liiins. Aiistriilia, however, could never bocome 
 a f^-i'eat and important factor in tlio world's progress without 
 the aid of civili/.ed men. Her natui'al resources, though 
 great, requii'ed to be (levelo])ed. The rainy seasons are 
 uncertain over a large ]K)rti(>ii of the continent, and the 
 droughts alone can be i-elied upon. They come with pro- 
 voking regularity. 
 
 MALE AlJOKIorXAL AUSTHALIAN. 
 
 The savage could not tickle this ground with a hoe and 
 expect it to smile Avitli a harvest, lie could not plant a 
 cocoanut tree and live uiuler its shade and on its nuts all the 
 rest of his days. The arid soil, the intense heat, and the 
 lack of ]noisture were against him, and as lie could not cope 
 with these natural disadvantages without the a]>pliances of 
 civilization, the poor fellow became a very abject and 
 wretched specimen of a human being; not fierce and strong 
 like the North American Indian, not vigorous and warlike 
 
THK VVHITK MAN's PLOW AND SPADE. 
 
 73 
 
 like the Zulu, not ^ay iiiul careless in the iibundaiico of trop- 
 ical bounty Hko tli(; South Sea Islander; ho dej^eneratod 
 into a poor, miserable, abject bushnian, who has already 
 been, for the most part, " civilized " off the face of the earth, 
 l^ut poor as was the country for the untutored savage 
 when the white man canii; with his plow and his sj)a(le, 
 his steam drill una his locomotive, this neglected continent 
 
 FKMAl.K AUOItldlNAI, AI'STIiAMAN. 
 
 became a new land and has yet a gi'eat place to fill among 
 the nations of the earth. Civilized man with the history of 
 the ages behind him, was able to make the desert blossom as 
 th(M'ose; to store the water of the Avet season for the exi- 
 gencies of the dry ; to find in the nutritious buffalo grass the 
 best fodder in all the world for his sheep, and to discover in 
 the bowels of the earth the richest stores of gold that have 
 ever been unearthed since the days of King Solomon. 
 
■ '• 
 
 74 
 
 PERPT.EXINQ TO STRANGERS. 
 
 Where sava<^os could not live the En^^lishnian luis built some 
 of the most iua<,milicent cities on the surface of the globe; 
 where the poor bushnien grew thin and emaciated, with 
 scarcely strength or spirit left to spear a kangaroo, the Eng- 
 lislnnan luis grown stout and healthy, hearty and ha])py, 
 and is founding a new nation wiiich will surely be in the 
 future ages the greater Britain. 
 
 When one first comes to Australia many things strike 
 him as being strange and out of ])lace, but he soon begins to 
 
 ask whether ]K)ssib]y liis notions 
 and ideas are not at fault, and 
 not the country, and whether Ikk 
 is not carrying his traditional pre- 
 judices around with him. Why, 
 for instance, should not the trees 
 put forth their buds and leaves 
 in September instead of in April ( 
 It looks odd enough at Jli'st 
 when the traveler reaches Australian shores after the scorch- 
 ing days of midsummer and the early breezes of fall have 
 begun to blow, to find that summer is not behind him but 
 before him, that it is not autumn, but s])ring ; that the trees, 
 instead of doifing their fall livery, are donning their spring 
 dresses, and that all nature is waking up for a new year oi 
 growth and activity. 
 
 It is said that the trees that arc transplanted from 
 Europe or Xorth America, ai"e themselves very nmch con- 
 fused })y this change in their surroundings ; that at first 
 they make a few feeble attempts to bud forth in May and 
 drop their loaves in October, but they soon accept the Aus- 
 tralian seasons as they are made for them. 
 
 A most excellent thing it is for a man of unreasonal)le 
 prejudices and provincial proclivities, to take such a journov 
 
 AliOUHilNAI- MKTiron OF 
 PKUUICINU KIUK. 
 
AN OVERTURNTNO OF PRECONCEIVED IDEAS. 
 
 75 
 
 as this. All his ])rec()nceive(l notions are knocked on tlie 
 head, so to sjjeak. His ideas of what is lit and i)i'o|)er for 
 Nature to do are completely upset, and if lie is a wise man 
 he will be«^in to say, j)erha[)s, alter all, wisdom will not die 
 with me, possibly my ancestors did not know everything- 
 tluM'e was to be known, and there may be new ways and 
 methods which are not to be despised simply because I was 
 not educated in them. I know of more than one good man 
 whose eminently respectable ideas I would like to have 
 turned topsy-turvy by some such transiti<m from a northern 
 to a southern hemisphere of thought. 
 
 Hut it must be confessed that in other ways besides turn- 
 ing the seasons end to end, Australia works havoc with oui* 
 preconceived notions of things. The cherries, for instance, 
 instead of covering up their stones with a good layer of flesh, 
 wear their hearts upon their sleeves, so to speak, or at least, 
 bear their pits upon the outside, instead of beneath the skin, 
 as all well-regulated cherries are suj)pose(l to do. The 
 Eucalyptus trees, and some other varieties, instead of shed- 
 ding their leaves, have a strange fashion of shedding their 
 l):ifk, and one sees great forests of them standing bare and 
 giiunt, with the bark falling off in shreds and ribbons while 
 th<'y stretch their white arms heavenward, but their tops aro 
 ill ways covered with a dull green leaf which they never part 
 with under any circumstances. 
 
 Much of the Australian wood, instead of floating as all 
 well-regulated wood should iloat when thrown into the 
 water, sinks to the bottom. Many of t\\o (lowers cover the 
 outside of their ])etals with bi-ight colors instead of the in- 
 side, as modest English flowers almost always do, and there 
 are various anomalies of this sort, which, however, are only 
 iiiHiniaiies, I suppose, because of our imperfect and narrow 
 vision. I did not hear tliat water ran uj) hill in Australia, of 
 
f , .: 
 
 'P . I 
 
 111 
 
 76 
 
 THE AddRESHIVK AN(JL()-SAXON. 
 
 that rain wiis dry uiid snow hot, hut [ should scui'coly huv(» 
 1kh!U surj)i'is('(l 1o h'iini of such disci'cpiincics hcfovc I wciil 
 away, 
 
 AfttT all, c'ivili/od human natiirci is vri'v lauch the same, 
 liowever natural pi'oduets and inaiiimatii natui'c dillVis in 
 (litferent parts of tln» world. Lovo and liatc, joy and sor- 
 row, fear and ho|M', I Mud, ar«! exactly tho sanio at the 
 Antipodes as in the countries with whicli I am familiar. 
 Hunuin natui-e does not <lilVer in its charactei'istics hy l)ein<^' 
 trans})lante<l from one hemispliero to another. Tla^ Kn«2^1ish- 
 man is very much tho same sort of a creature wherevei' 
 lie is found, whether transplanted to America to ac()uire t le 
 alleged '"Yankee drawl" and the sharp features which I 
 must say I think exist hirgely in the humorist's novel, or 
 "whether he crosses the soutliern seas to take \\\) his ahode in 
 Australasia; — ho is the same sort of a being — resolute, 
 aggressive, jmshing, fearless ; sometimes haughty and arro- 
 gant in his treatment of inferior races, often })rejudiced and 
 unjust in his judgment of others, but nevertheless a mighty 
 and potent factor in tlu^ woi'ld's civilization. "Without him 
 ■what would be tlu; vast prairies of America, or the mighty 
 sea-girt continent of which I am writing 'i If ever there wa;^ 
 a providential race raised up of G(xl to do a j)articular work 
 in the world and exert a mighty civilizing agency, that rac(^ 
 is the Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 I feel that it is necessary to be cautious in reco!'ding my 
 impressions of the English race in Australia lest I lay myself 
 open to the same charges which I am tem])ted to bring 
 oftentimes against other hasty travelers who have skipped 
 through America at the rate of a mile a minute and then 
 made up tiieir minds that they kn(jw all about it. ^Fy warm 
 American ])lood sometimes boils with not a little indignation 
 as I hear our institutions slurred and our ])ul)lic men de- 
 
IN THK VAN(JL'AUI) oi' ('l\ IM/,ATH)N. 
 
 
 faiiu'd l>v tlu>s(> who know nothing- iihoiit «'itli('r oiu' oi- tlic 
 <»tlH'i'. So [ iiiiist ho t'lin't'ul not to raise the hloo<l of tmyoiu' 
 else to tho hoilin^^ point witli unfounded critieisnis. Still, as 
 everyone must j^ivt; his inipi'essions, I would say that the 
 Colonies, so far as 1 liav(5 seen tiieni and talked with I'epi-e- 
 stiiitative Australians, strikes me as hein;;- in a period corre- 
 s|)ondin'^ to the Colonial days of Amei'ica before tlu; glorious 
 era of lT7<i dawn«;d upon us. 
 
 Not that the Australian C^olonies are 100 v(»ai's l)ehind 
 
 hty 
 him 
 ^■hty 
 
 work 
 rac(^ 
 
 nyseli 
 bring 
 dipped 
 I then 
 T warm 
 nation 
 len de- 
 
 IN THK CiUOl'NDS OK (JOVKUNMKNT IIOISK. SYDNEY. 
 
 tlio times by any means. They arc fully abreast of tho most 
 recent civilization. All the appliances and inventions and 
 elegancies of civilized life are found here, and I ima,'ino that 
 11 new invention of Edison, or a labor-saving contrivance of 
 ^IcCormick, would be introduced (juite as soon itito these 
 pi'ogi'essive, go-ahead colonies as they would in any ])art of 
 America, and far more raindlv than thev would \n' likely to 
 !»(■ introduced into England. The fashions, too, are as recent, 
 toi'augiit T know; tho store windcnvs are certainly as ele- 
 gant, the streets of such cities as ^felboni'ne are as wide, 
 and the puljlic buildings as magnificent as any that can be 
 
78 
 
 VAST DESKKTS AND I'NWATKKKI) IM.AINH. 
 
 
 i 
 
 r 
 
 found in all the world. Viit I am rcniindcd cvc^ry day that, in 
 
 somo respects Australia is very niucli like North America 
 
 "III lli(! K"<"l "I'l Colony (liiys 
 When we lived iiiidcr tlie Kiiifj." 
 
 The ]»o|)ida,tion of th(!se (Joloni(!s is Vi^ry nearly the same as 
 of th(! i;'> orioinid States that made; up the Union in 177*I, 
 soin(!thiti^ lil<(^ three or lour millions of people- formin^^ a 
 Irin^'c of setthfmcnt alono' tin; seashor-e for- thousands of 
 mih'S. TIm! tar intci'ior, for the most part, is a /^rr« m^joy- 
 nita^ waitini^ lor the hardy pioncci- and th(! adventurous 
 settler. 
 
 When I was a, hoy, an<'. that is not so very many years 
 a^o aftei' all, t.'ic old f^cooi'ii plucks still had a, traet of land 
 ooveriri"^ neai'ly the whoh; ar<'a west of the Mississippi, 
 labeled "The (Ireat American Desi'rt." (iradually this 
 f^reat Amei'ieaii Desert has ^n'own smaller I y de<;r(!es and 
 h(!autit'ull V less until it is now eordined to a, eom|)aj'ativ(!lv 
 narrow sti'ip of outlyin;^ j)lains, which themselves ai'(! not he 
 yond hope of ultimate redem[)tion. So I have no douht the 
 vast deserts and unwatc^red plains of the une.\|»lored interior 
 of this mio-hty land will one of these days ''Id to tlie 
 prowess of the |>ioiieer and the sturdy toil of the .S(d.tler until 
 all Australia blossoms like tlie rose. 
 
 In its political h-at iires. too. t he Australasian Colonies are 
 not at all uidikethe Amei'ican ('oloni<'S \n'\^)Vi' the lf(U'ohi- 
 tion. Jealous of their riohts, the\ hrook no interfereiiee 
 from the Mother ( 'omit i-y to which they still (»we alleo'iaiice. 
 If she should attempt to imi)ose a tax on tea there would !"■ 
 the o'l'eatesl lea pari v in Melhoiinie llarhor that was ever 
 seen. The liostoii tea party would scarcely he a circmii- 
 stanc<^ to this .\iisti'aliau '" tea-meet ino'."' If an oh.itiiiati' 
 Kiny' (i(!oi'o'e III was <»n thellir<iiie instead of her ( JracioMS 
 Majesty ( " hei- (ioo(lness-< iracioiis Majesty'" some of tlir 
 
AN INDULdKNT MOTIIKU. 
 
 71) 
 
 Aijsti'iilijm jKipci's cjill hci-) (jiiccri V'i(;t()riji, it, \V(»iil(l not 
 Itr l»»ii^, probably, bdor-cf {\u'sr. ("oloiiics would set ii|) lioiisc- 
 kc('|)iii;^' foi' tli(Miis('lv('s, and cut llicinsclvcs wholly adrift 
 iroiii Mother Mii;^l;md, lli;it k»'('|»s house jit, home. l!iil,iis it 
 IS, they t'e('l IK) pressure of iiiateriial aiithoi'ity. 
 
 The old l;idy soiiiet imes scolds, to be sure, jiiid is somo- 
 liiiies considered indiU'ei'dil to her children's welhire, bnt. 
 sh(! never attein|)ts to " boss" t hem ("boss," bv the way, 
 is as ^ood Australian as it, is American), and so the Colo- 
 nies ^ive a, willin<:-, if not in all cases a vei'V enthusiastic, 
 .dlci^-iaiice to (he Mother Land. 
 
 In the " ;j^'ood old ('oloiiy diiys," too, of which we sin^"", if 
 I read history aright, our dill'ei'eid colonies were very jeal- 
 ous of each other e;ich afraid that tin- ot her would "^'ain 
 t,li(! advantai^'i! and obtain some |)redominant power. 
 
 IlistoiT is re|)eatine' itself a^^ain in this Soulhei-n world. 
 Wlmthei' the principle of \'vi'i' ti'ade oi' protection is I lie truct 
 Me I have no occasion to say in this chronicle, but it doe;^. 
 seem ver'V strail^^'e tiiJit the ('olouies should |trotec( them- 
 selves so zealously one a;^'ainst another. 'I'hey are raising"; 
 their tai'ilf (hit ies hi;^'lier and hii^'her, I understand, not, oidy 
 a;^;iinst all th<; rest of the world, but atiaJnst theii' sister 
 colonies. The oratic'es of New S(»uth Wales must be taxed 
 helure they call come; int(» \'ict,oria, and the rues of New 
 /ealaiid must. |>ay a, hea\y duty before they c;m be wrapped 
 ioiiimI Australian knees. It is as tliou;;ii New Jlampshire 
 sliuuld jirolect, herself against the dread incursions of \'er- 
 iiKinl iiiiipic su<;;ir. and \'eriiioiit should set up ;i Icirrier 
 :i'j:iiiist the exportation of New Hampshire ;.;'!';iiiile, and 
 iiriila should object to Maine ice unless it was duly taxed, 
 aii'l ,Maine should retort by piittin;^' an iiii|»ost on l''loi'idii, 
 ''i:iM'jes. However, h'<lei'ation is ill t he ;iir just as it was in 
 III'' North American air in the latter part of llie last cen- 
 tury. 
 
80 
 
 A PROPIIKCV OF FKDEKATrON. 
 
 
 I 
 
 Tlicre is fcdtM-atioii iilrciuly in s(!iitiiii<>nt Jind purposes 
 against Hk; iigij^n^ssion of all tlio rest of tlio world. TlnH't^ is 
 fcMJcration of (Christian sentiment and religious ])ur[)os(;, and, 
 doubtless, before the IDth century conies to aclose there will 
 b(! j)oliti(,'al f(!(lerati(in, just as the close of the iSth century 
 marks the political fedenition which has ever since been 
 growing strong(ir and strongei* Ix'tween tlu^ states of the 
 Amei'ican Union. 
 
 Another impression which I have received is that Aus- 
 tralia is a mixture! in about ecpial j)roportions of British 
 conservatism and American aggressiveness, a splendid mix- 
 ture that, sinc(! both (jualities ar(! needed to makci up the 
 ideal race, and either alone , though admiral)le in itself, can 
 be carried too far. Sydney is said to Ite very Kiiglish, Mel- 
 bourne very Anu^rician, and I think there; is some reason for 
 this distinction, which the Australians often comment upon 
 tiiemselves. Sydney was settled 1<>() years ago, and its nar- 
 row streets and crooked lanes remind me of the; j)ictures(|U<! 
 city which, like; all loyal liostonians, I regard, of courses, as 
 the "hub" of the; Universe. 
 
 Melbourne, on the; other hand, is a modern city built 
 within the last oO y(>ars, and its wide streets and elegant 
 bouhnards, its magniticent public buildings, and extensive; 
 stores, woulel h'ad e)ne' who was set de)wn in it with liis e;yes 
 blindfoleleel te) imagine; he; was in any e)ne; e)f half a ele)zen e)f 
 our me)st wiele-awake weistern cities. Te) be; sure; he; we)ul(l 
 finel it ratlie;r cle>ane'r than me)st e)f tlieMii, anel wit h ne) elense 
 ])all of smoke; hieling its bevuitie's. lie; we)ulel he-ave; a sigh 
 anel wish that e)ur stre'e>ts might be as well ])ave;el anel ke'pt 
 as cle'an, but, with the; e'Xe;e'ptie)n e)f a fenv minor matters e»f 
 this se>rt, he; wexilel be eMiiinently at Iiemie in the beautiful 
 city of Me'l bourne. 
 
 In Syeliie'v almejst every house has its balcony, anel this 
 
 Sll{ 
 
 idf 
 
 iiiii 
 
•loirN lULi, versus bkothkr Jonathan. 
 
 81 
 
 hnilt 
 
 is iilso ii coiniiion iiicthod of jircliitcM'tun' in ^^('lI)ollI■Il(^ 
 Houses in Austi'Jiliii, uvc l)tiilt, I'oi- hot wciithcr (tlii'oUi;liout 
 llic lar^vst. |>iii-t ol" the Ainci'iciin continent tiiey are Unilt t'oi" 
 cold weatlier) lienc*^ tli(; sii<j;lit, (liU'efeiices of arcliitect ur(? 
 w liicli \V(! not ice. 
 
 Tliere are, indeed, very many tliine-s tliat reniiml me of 
 the old country, hut these are all halanced hy Americanisms 
 which a|)])eiii" at every coi'ner. 
 
 l'"or insta-iicc, 1 Jiave more than once seen the si^^n 
 •• Man<ilin^' <lone liere," which always I'eminded me of tin; 
 iiiil'ortunat(^ Mr. Mantalini. N\'e slioidd call the establish- 
 ment a laundry, 1 su|>]iose. The dru^'j^ists ai'e almost all 
 ••chemists,"' and they have no extravagant mai'ble fountain 
 with forty-two ditferent kinds of Amcricuii driid<s issiiin;^ 
 liiei'efroni, in the front part of their stores. "IJeef and 
 liiinr' sho|)s I ha,v<i often seen, hut- why a man who si^lls 
 liiini should not also sell lamb or otliei' butcliei''s meat I can- 
 iini (|uile detei'mine. 
 
 The street cars are all "trams.'" The elevators ar(> all 
 ••lifts,"" and the railway cai's ai'c all '•coacluis." "Why is it 
 lliat you Amei'icaiis always ,i;'ive such a bi;^' nauu; to everv- 
 iliin^',"" sai<i an Austi'alian ^'cntleman to me the otliei" day. 
 "Why do you call a lift an 'elevator," aiul why is yotu' 
 'classrooin' a ' I'ecitution hall," and why is your barber's 
 sliu|) usually a, 'tonsoi'ial palace "T" I am still ])onderin^ 
 these (juestious, and have not arrive(l as yet at any satisfac- 
 tory answei'. 
 
 Hut, if tlx'i'e is uiucli that is Knnlish tliei'e is also as 
 iiiiicli that is distinctively American about these colonicjs. 
 p'lM a do/.en ai'ticles of conuiion use I have seen the name 
 "^.ileui. Mass.,"' or "Sin-ino'ii,.!,!, Mass.," oi- " Tittsbureh, 
 l''iinsylvania," or "('hica^-o. Illinois."'' American books, 
 A:iieiiean watches and typewriters, American lamj)s and 
 
 ^f 
 
88 AMERICAN INVENTIONS — "am P:RICAN BARS." 
 
 .M 
 
 !v|,i;p:^" 
 
 bicycles, American incandescent li<^lits and teU^piiones, and 
 alas! many "American bars" from which, as the si<,^ns tell 
 us, American (b-inUs are (Hspensed, ai'e to be seen every- 
 where. I am not at all proud (jf this last Americanism, but 
 in many of the Continental cities of Euro|)(! the American 
 bar is tiu; only American thin<^ that you will s(!e in idl the 
 city. 
 
 ( )ii tin; railway between Sydney and ]\I('lboiirn(', Pull- 
 man ciirs of the very best constiMiction are used, and on the 
 Melbourne sti'eets the swift cable cars which I tliitd\ must 
 have been made in Ti'oy, New ^'oi'k,^nve one tlr; im])i'('ssion 
 that he cannot be far from Kansas ('ity, or Onndia, oi' San 
 Francisco. In one veiy im|)orlant way, howevei'. the Aus- 
 tralian colonies dill'ei' from our <;ai'ly American colonies, and 
 that is ii) the jjredominance of tlu^ city life over tlie country 
 life. I should think that fidly ;")() percent, of the people of 
 Australia live to-day in the cities, lar<4'e oi- small; ncai'ly 
 one-half of the inhabitants of \'ictoria are <^athered together 
 alon<^' the beautiful streets of ^Melbourne. So in New South 
 AVales, Sydney absoi'bs a lar^o proportion of the population, 
 while in South Australia, Adelaide; is not on''- the capital 
 and metropolis, but the oik; center foi- a vast tei-ritoiy. 
 
 The rural ])o])ulation of Amei'ica is in some sections 
 sadly on tli(! wane. Tin; f^'reat cities are <^'r'eat magnets 
 everywhere which draw tlu! |)eoj)l(': from tin; count i-y to 
 themselves. Cntil the poles of this nni<,nH't can be rcncrsed 
 in sonn> way, both in Austi'alia aiul America, and the jx'ople 
 lind that theii- haj)|)iness is not in the; crowded streets of aa 
 ov«M'poj)ulated city, but amid tin* peace? and plenty of conn 
 try life, a ei-eat dan<.^er will always numace these two <;real 
 continents. Discontent, anarchy, and revolution, with all 
 their hideous evils, are breathed in the ^'I'eat cities; tin; fresh 
 country winds blow the cobwebs out of the brain, and (lis- 
 

 FREE AND IIAI'I'V COINTKV lAFE. 
 
 83 
 
 "■ 
 
 
 ions 
 ;n('ts 
 •V to 
 
 •l'S('<l 
 
 coun 
 
 h all 
 
 fresh 
 
 ;l clis- 
 
 <!(>iitent (jut of tlio lioart. Until both Austi-alitiiiiul Amoricii 
 b(!Coine lilled witli siiiull liUullioldiM's, cucli (niltivatirifr his 
 own litthi \)\vvM (jf (Jod's eartli, the problems of their fu- 
 ture destiny will not all be solved. 
 
 But, [)redoniiniint us citv life is in Austrjiliu, the inilu- 
 
 IN TIIK lilSII. 
 
 flic-; of i])(\ earlv settle)', the s(|iiatter, and tlu; bushinan is 
 still f(;lt. Most of the distinctive AiistriiliMii slaii^' \vlii(;h I 
 have jiciird can 1)(^ trace(l hack' to these sources — thus th(^ 
 '■ hillahoni^r" is the backwater of a river; t he " la^'oon," vv(; 
 sImmiM cull it iit home. The " bhiey " is the hlankcit of tlu; 
 lioiilicrsmaii in whi^-li he wrajis himself at nieht and lies 
 »l')\Mi to sleep wherever he may \h), under the siltmt stars. 
 
81 
 
 S4 
 
 AUSTRALIAN SLAN(;. 
 
 The '• hilly " is tliccim in wliicli he cooks fii-st his tcii jind 
 llicii liis iiiciit. "\V«! may !«' sure lie i-clislics tliciii hotli !)('- 
 cause of tlic s|>Icn(li(l appetite sauce which was always upon 
 his tal)le. These tei'ius have now (le<;('n<'rate(l to deiiot*' the 
 properties of the ti'ainp, and the huridh' which he cai'ri<'S 
 up(»n his liack is iiis "swa<^'/" The " larrikin '" is the street 
 loal'ei', and a \{'yy unpleasant type of street loafer he is, too. 
 as develo|)(<l in these colonies I, niyseir, am a ••new 
 ciiiini." as ( vei-y new arri\al is styled in Ausli'alian dialect ; 
 and, until I iiad l»een here at least, live years, 1 could he 
 only a •• n<'W chuni," corresponding to the " teiidorfoot'" ol 
 (»ur mining' camps. It is surely hecomin<j;' that a new chum 
 should he careful in liis commendations and uiodest in Jiis 
 criticisms. Pei'liaj)s it is iiigli time, therefore, that 1 should 
 i)rin;j: this cha|)ter to an end, Ixifort^ T commit the usual indis- 
 cretion of ii literui'y "uew chum" in a sti-ange land. 
 
niAI'TEIi IV. 
 
 Al'STIfAIJA AND AISTKAMANS- LITTLE MATTERS ABOUT 
 
 A GHHAT CorNTUV. 
 
 H 
 
 
 III' Houses tlu! People Live in — Stone Instead of Wood — An English- 
 iiiMii's Castle— I'lenty of Soil — " Stmtliroy " versus " 12'J!) E. IMl St." 
 — " Maccluis, Cestiis, Festiis" — How 'i'licy Travel — TIk; Hallways — 
 Inside llie House — At tlie Dinner Talil< — A Pleasant Custom — 
 Scarcity of Cold Water — Tlie Newspajiers — ^Sonietiines Dull but 
 Seldom Sensational — Some Budding Poets — Specimen of ()l>itu!iry 
 I'oetry — Outdoor Life — National Oiunos — A Alighty Curse — The 
 Turf Adviser — The Totalisator — Church Life — (Jreat Conventions — 
 The Singing — Cahle Ahsurdities — A Mexican Invasion — Kissing his 
 Wile on the Street — (irum-chewing Girls — Chicago Girls and Boston 
 Maidens — Introdueing Friends. 
 
 OME (jf the little things that seem 
 to me to 1)0 cliarjicteristic of 
 v^^ ^J^rfj l^'^-s^y ^, AiiHti'iiliuii life may seem hardly 
 ' "^ ■ "* ' worth meiitiotiinj^ in serious con- 
 
 verse, and yet it is these little 
 matters tliat diirerentiate our 
 Australian cousins from their 
 American r(;latives. 
 
 Ill other laitds it is easy to 
 
 ])aint the |)ictiir" witli hroad 
 
 touches of the hriish. I)ut in a 
 
 country so much iik'c our own, 
 
 Jiiitl itmonf^a jieopii; who, so far. 'is all outward characteristics 
 
 ^o. hve across the street, instead of across tlie Pacific ocean, 
 
 Wf liiid peciiliarities iind dilTerences only in minnte thin^^s. 
 
 TIk! hous(; in which the Aiisti'idian lives, for instance, 
 
 ( S.) ) 
 
 tI 
 
 if- 
 
 9 
 
8G 
 
 COMKOUT IN sb:clusi<)X, 
 
 ff 
 
 i I'i: !^ 
 
 llioiigli u most conifoi'tiiblo ono, and oftv.n an clcf^aiit man- 
 sion, is (liirci'iMit in sornci sii<^lit particulai's from that in 
 which his American n^lativc; would tak(^ np his al)od«?. It is 
 uhnost invai'iahly built of stoiu; or hi-ick, liVcu in the coun- 
 tiy, instead of wood ; th(; niason hcin^'', I suppose, that 
 timber is scarce and hif^h, comjjarativeiy speakin<^, and tl»e 
 native woods do not easily lend themselves to the house- 
 builder's art. 
 
 At any I'ate, oiu; sees very few modern houses of the 
 style which maki; our subui'ban citi<>s and country villages 
 so bright anil attractive, with tluur many colors and their 
 varied styles of architecture. 
 
 Many of the houses here, ev(;n of the better class, are one- 
 story buildings, with bculrooms as well as pai'lors and din- 
 ing-rooms on the ground lloor, ))ut they are high and com- 
 modious ai)artments and doubtless have; soiik; a<lvantages in 
 this hot climate ovei- the numy-stoi'ied sti'uctures with which 
 Me are ac(juainted. Moreover, f(;r every Austi'alian his 
 house is his castle, and in this mattei' he shows his English 
 breeding and trainiu"-. lb; shuts himself in fi-om all the 
 woi'ld with liiji'li lied^'es and tences. The ci'usade for the 
 abolishment of fences and luMlges, with which we arc so 
 familiar, would meet willi no favoi' in this land. 
 
 So it comes about that the streets of tin; suburban towns 
 hav(! a m()i'(! foj'bidding and unsocial asp(H't than our streets 
 at lionu'. Tliei'c^ is none of tln^ pai'k-likti ell'ect which is 
 • given to a, beautiful suburban town, by I'einoving all fences 
 and obstacles to th(> view, and allowing tlu^ ])remises of ad- 
 ioininj'' neiirliboi's to conu! too'etlHii" with oidv an inuiii'lnarv 
 line between them. Uut after all when you once g(;t behind 
 an Australian's fence oi' an Hnglisliman's hedge, tliei'c^ is a joy 
 in the sense of seclusion and quiet retirement which one can 
 tiardly experience^ in the o})en. thoroughfai'(> of an American 
 
 ITS I 
 
 in;i; 
 -';iil 
 
 t' ;l 
 
 '.Vi! 
 
 tl'oil 
 Moil 
 
 OJlr 
 
 M 
 
SPACK ENor(JlI AND TO SI'AUK. 
 
 87 
 
 town. You I'md, too, tliut wliiit yon tf)ok t'oi" ('xclnsivoncss 
 is only SI national rcscrvo and that tlio wai'nicst kind of hos- 
 pitality is cxtcnihul Ut those; who^ct hehind these foritiddiny- 
 tenues. 
 
 The Australian believes in havin^^ plenty of land about 
 liini, and why shouldn't ho^ If tliei-e is on(? tiling of which 
 tli(!re is enouf^^h in this <^reat contincmt, it is ^^othe^ Kai'th. 
 Only a little frin<,^(^ of her soil liere as yet has been subdued. 
 No wonder that the Australian household(>r ehooses to have 
 
 •'li, 
 
 so 
 
 IN ADKI.AIDK. 
 
 :i Li'ood <^enerous (juota for his hous(>-lot and garden. The 
 icsiilt is that these cities spread out enormously, and Wash- 
 ington must yield the palm of being considered "the city of 
 iiiagnidcent distances" to Melbourne and Sydney and Ad- 
 elaide and IJallarat. In Alelbourne, for instance, tliei-e seems 
 l< iie no residential portioii of the city foi' the better classes 
 wiiliin less than threi; or foui' miles fi'om Collins strei^t, and 
 tl'iiisands of the business nuMi live half a scoi'e of miles oi' 
 I I'H'e away from their ollicc's. 
 
 When we get to their houses we find that each oile has a 
 distinctive individuality of its own, which is very ])leasing to 
 »>iie accustomed to i-esidences known only l)y an unsynn)a- 
 
88 
 
 DLSTINCTIVE NAMES. 
 
 M H 
 
 thotic nuinlHM". For instiincc, it is inncli inorc ploasinn-, jn 
 my (.'stimatioii. In live at "Stratliroy," or "St. Kilda." or 
 " Ilai'oldinc," than to liav(^ your abode at " l'J2l> East lUst 
 sti'oot." llou' can cliiidivn ever luivc! an uircction for ''No. 
 <»2T'V I low can the liouscliold <j,()ds (^vcir ho pcrinancntly 
 sot up on a six-story Mat in '•4'Jli.i A, Ttttli Avonue"^ 
 
 Hut to have a lioinc of youi' own with its distinctive 
 nanio which is appi'opriatcd l»y no one else! Ahl then; is 
 a sensation of homeliness comes over one when wo but seo 
 the nauK! u|)on the ^'•ate j>ost I 
 
 irowovei", some of these names, I must say, sti'ike me as 
 peculiai'. In order to ^ct a (hll'ei'ent hom<' desi^tiation IVom 
 any oik; else, chihli'on's nauu's are sonu'times usimI, and I 
 have soon " Emnui House" and " Alice Terrace" and 
 "^Afaudina" and "Susana." One row of houses which J 
 havo s<M>n was named " \'oltaii'e."' " liousseau," and " ]{enan." 
 IIow any builder could hope to let such houses to a ('hris- 
 tian, I do not understand. 
 
 Still another terrace of liouses I havo seen labeled 
 "IJaccinis," "Oestus," and " Festus." With all my love 
 for individuality and btr distinctive names, I must say I 
 think that this is a littk? ovordoiny; it. I should alwavs feel 
 ashamed to live in a house that b(-r<! the name of the old 
 inobriato "Bacchus"; and as for datin<^ my l(>ttei's fi'om 
 *' Festus," I Avould pay a larg-ely increased rent I'ather than 
 submit to any such indiy-nity. 
 
 I havo found the modes of roadway traveling in Aus- 
 tralia much like those to which we are accustomed, with tla; 
 exco])tion that oui' fi'iends hei'e very much affect a certain 
 species of English ti'ap which T have never seen at home, in 
 which the driver has the best seat of all, and the pcojjle 
 whom lie drives, if there is more than one, get along as best 
 they can on a kind (jf perch with their backs to the horses. 
 
 ( 
 
 ill 
 
 <) 
 
 on 
 
 ;ni 
 
 III. 
 
 fri.r 
 
I' 
 
 A VVEMi MANA(JKI) KAILWAV HYSTKM. 
 
 89 
 
 il> 
 
 whih' they aro cari'liil to avoid the drivor's reins wliicli are 
 alwuvs in close proximity to tln'ir c.irs. However, this ti'ap 
 liiis tlie adviintiiji'e of i)eiiio- i-ooiny and easy to enter, and for 
 father and ni»»lher and a small family of chiMren is jnst the 
 thinu;. 
 
 The raih'oads seem to me well manati'ed and well 
 e(pii|>|)ed. The road i)eds are splemlidly ballasted, the sta- 
 tions are suhstantial thon;ih not ele<iant, and evervthinj; 
 ahont the i'ollin<i^ stock is on a par with our lii'st-class Amer- 
 ican I'oads. 
 
 To 1k^ sure th(\v clin^^ to the old, exclusive, Kn^lish com- 
 |)artment system for the most pai't, i)Ut the cai's are well 
 iipli<»lstei'e(l. and neai'ly all who can aH'oi'd it seem to ride 
 lii'st-class, wiiereas in Kn<:^land it is a commo!! sayin<^ that 
 oidy lords, fools, and Americans ever j)atronize th<> tirst-class 
 railway carriage. 1 have seen no third-class cars, and the 
 second-class ai-e very comfoi'tahle, thcMi^h far outnumbered 
 i)y the lirst-class comi)ai'tm<'nts. 
 
 On somciof the roads rnllman cars aro in constant use. 
 On others, Mann boudoir cars are pi'et'erred. (Irado cross- 
 in<;s are abolished as far as ])ossible, and more care is taken 
 of life and limb than on oui- avei'ag'e railway lines. Here 
 one ste])s immediately from tlit! ])latform into the car, in- 
 stead of goinf^ up two or three steps as in our cars, and a 
 Ix'll about the size of a dinner bell, vigorously run<^, 
 iimiounces the hour of departure. 
 
 To show how nmch custom has to do with our views of 
 the (itness of things, I was amused to hear an Australian 
 friend, who had been traveling- in Amei-ica, say tiiat it 
 soeined strange to her to climb a short flight of stairs before 
 getting into our cars, and tliat it seemed preposterous for 
 the en'^-ineer to ring a bell as big as a church bell whenever 
 the ti'ain started. "Well, I had always regarded the three 
 
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IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 90 
 
 FOUR MEALS A DAY. 
 
 fllt^ 
 
 or four steps as the most natural means of getting into a 
 railway car myself, and as for tlie churcli-bell to which she 
 alluded, I had never regarded it in that preposterous light. 
 But I thought I would be careful after hearing her remark 
 about saying anything about the Austi-alian railway dinner 
 bell, or any other little peculiarities Avhich struck me as 
 o;ldities. 
 
 We have found now our Australian home and the means 
 of locomotion by which we reach it. As we enter the aver- . 
 age home of the well-to-do, we find a large and commodious 
 parlor, a well-stocked library, a dining-room and a breakfast 
 room, which in tiie season (and almost every season in Aus- 
 tralia i.-i the season of flowers) are gay with blossoms from 
 the abundant garden. 
 
 The dining-room always interests the hungry traveler, so 
 we will enter it. A beautiful fashion, which I have never 
 seen practiced to the same extent elsewhere, is that of deco- 
 rating the table, for it is typical of the Australian as of the 
 Englishman that he makes a good deal more of the dining 
 table than is usually done by the average American family. 
 
 He indulges in four meals instead of three, though the 
 late supper at night is often a very informal affair, and he 
 frequently finds room for a cup of tea between meals. As 
 for getting along on two meals a day, as some of our more 
 aesthetic IS^ew Englanders are accustomed to do, he would 
 spurn the idea. The center of the table is beautifully deco- 
 rated with bright velvet or brilliant cloths of other kinds, 
 and is gay with flowers, and often in the evening with fairy 
 lamps, Avhich add to the brilliant effect. The average Aus- 
 tralian does not indulge in so many hot biscuits, porterhouse 
 steaks, buckwheat cakes, etc., as his friends across the sea. 
 but his table is always abundantly and often lavishly spread 
 with cold meats, bread of different kinds, ])astries and pud- 
 
GINGER ALE OK ICE WATER. 
 
 91 
 
 (lings, and " sweets " under wliich genei'ic term are grouped 
 marmalade and jam, jellies and syrups of various kinds. 
 
 Of course the teaj)ot is there, (occasionally the cotfeejoot, 
 very often the syphon of seltzer water and ginger ale, and, 
 most rarely of all, the water pitcher. In fact, I think that 
 some of my Australian iiionds scarcely know the taste of 
 unadulterated water, and, as for ice water, I imagine they 
 would abominate it as an invention of the arch enemy of 
 mankind. 1 have seen hands hehl u}) almost in horror at the 
 thought of the dreadful American practice of drinking ice 
 water on all j)ossible occasions, and under all circumstances, 
 and it seems to be a standing wonder with many, how any 
 of us manage to survive the ])eriod of infancy with all the 
 various iced drinks and the vast amount of i)l;iin water that 
 we make way with. 
 
 After breakfast we, of course, take up our morning })aper, 
 and here it is, damp from the press. I must say, that to my 
 somewhat vitiated taste, perhaps, some of these daily papei-s 
 seem extremely dull, but I am inclined to charge this im- 
 pression to two facts. In the first place, they contain almost 
 no American news, unless, possibly, John L. Sullivan, or 
 some such slugger, happens to have received an unmerciful 
 pounding (in which result we all devoutly rej(oice). In the 
 second place, a strar "-er never knows where to look for what 
 he wants in an unaccustomed newspaper, so, though it may 
 contain many morsels which he would be glad to read, he is 
 apt to throw it aside impatientl}'^ with the reflection that it 
 is (lull and stupid. 
 
 But if this charge can be preferred with some force, 
 there is something far worse than dullness, and that is the. 
 outrageous sensationalism Avhich disgraces many of our own 
 papers. These papers are at least dignified, and, for the 
 most part, high in their moral tone. Some of the afternoon 
 
I 
 
 93 
 
 DULL BUT DIGNIFIED. 
 
 U I 
 
 ■;ii, ii v. 
 
 m 
 
 li 
 
 if: : 
 
 journals, to be sure, are imitating a bad American example, 
 iind deal in " scare heads " and " penny-dreadful " stories, 
 but the leading papers are all comparatively clean, if not 
 aggressively on the side of religion and morals. 
 
 The Melbourne papers pay exceedingly little attention to 
 religious matters, and seem to ape the " London Times " in 
 the silent contempt that they visit upon anything or any- 
 body that is not patronized by an earl or a lord at the very 
 l^ast. Their snobbishness is often spoken of by the people 
 of Melbourne themselves, and it is not shared, I am glad to 
 say, to any extent by the leading papers of Adelaide or Syd- 
 ney. These are quite as good as newspapers, and far better 
 as moral agencies in supporting and advancing the great 
 religious movements of the day. 
 
 In addition to the column of uirtlis, marriages, and 
 deaths, a " memorial " column is published in many of the 
 papers, and anybody can get his funereal lucubrations pub- 
 lished at so much a line. I do not know but this is wise 
 forethought on the part of the newspaper publishers. If 
 their subscribers Avork off their poetic afflatus in some dog- 
 gerel verses concerning a deceased relative, they are not so 
 likely to deluge the editorial sanctum with poems on 
 " Spring," " Love," and such threadbare subjects. I think 
 .some publisher could make his fortune by collecting the 
 choicest of these verses under the title, " Funereal Poetry 
 AS She is Composed." Here is one that I have found, and it 
 is quite equal to the average, neither better nor worse. I 
 commend the use of the verb in the last line to all our bud- 
 ding poets. 
 
 " Farewell, Mother ; we did not know tliy worth, 
 But thou art gone, and now 'tis prized, 
 Thus angels walked unknown on earth, 
 But when they flew were recognized." 
 
 !i 
 
OUTDOOR LIFE. 
 
 98 
 
 Anotlier one, for which a friend of mine vouches, read as 
 follows : 
 
 " I heard that my Mother had met with a sprain, 
 I left Ikllarat by the 4.50 train, 
 At Melbourne a cab took me quick to her side, 
 But when I got there, alas, she had died ! " 
 
 My friend suggests that no wonder the good lady tleparted 
 this life before the arrival of a daughter who could perpe- 
 trate such verse. 
 
 After the breakfast and the paper have been disposed of, 
 we will go out to see something of the national life, for 
 there is a vast amount of outdoor life in Australia ; too 
 much, I am told by those who know it best, for the young 
 men and women, in consequence, often spend too little time 
 at home. The line climate makes verv much of outdoor life 
 possible and delightful ; and athletic sports have been 
 carried to an extent that is not known in America or in 
 England. This devotion to athleticism will, doubtless, pro- 
 duce a line race of men physically. May this development 
 not be gained at the expense of moral qualities which are 
 vastly more important. 
 
 As baseball is the national game in America, so football 
 is tlie great national game of Australia. To be sure, cricket 
 is ])layed and famous elevens have beaten the best English 
 cricketers. Australian oarsmen are renowned throughout 
 the world, but football is the national gamej^ar excellence. 
 
 The betting on these games, and especially the gambling 
 oil the horse races, are the worst features of outdoor life in 
 Australia. It seems to me that I never saw the gambling 
 spirit so rampant, even in England itself, as it is here. It 
 certainly has not taken hold of the better classes in America 
 as here. In some quarters there seems to be very little 
 conscience about the matter. The races are patronized by 
 

 
 1 
 
 
 , ; 
 
 
 : 
 
 ■ 
 
 I 
 
 III 
 
 IP '' 
 
 ill' 
 
 lit 
 
 94 
 
 THE CURSE OF AUSTRALIAN YOUTH. 
 
 the governor-generals and tlie leading men in political life, 
 and the protests which are raised by Christian people are 
 sneered at by many of the papers as the feeble attempt of 
 " sniveling parsons." A premier of one of the leading col- 
 onies, himself not averse, as I found upon the steamer, to a 
 chance in the " Calcutta Sweep," assures me that the spirit 
 of gambling is the awful and growing curse of Australian 
 youth. This testimony, certainly, is not from an unduly 
 prejudiced source. 
 
 Not only do the wealthy classes and the bookmakers bet, 
 but the clerks and schoolboys and the ragged little boot- 
 blacks themselves invest a shilling in the sweep. Immense 
 prizes, sometimes as high as $50,000 each, tempt the cupidity 
 of rich and poor alike. In fact, these horse-races are simply 
 huge Louisiana lotteries legalized, and established in all the 
 colonies, which must debauch the youth by the wholesale if 
 they are allowed longer to exist. 
 
 I have seen a sign over a very respectable looking house 
 in Melbourne which read "Turf Adviser." It was not, as 
 the uninitiated might suppose, a landscape gardener's office, 
 or the establishment of one who gave instruction in regard 
 to a model lawn, but of one Avho professed to have some 
 special knowledge in regard to the races, and gave the 
 unwary a supposed "tip" as to the winning horse. Such 
 establishments, under one name or another, are very com- 
 mon, and even in times of depression and suffering the horse 
 races and the bookmakers are the last to feel the pinch. 
 Every little town has its own races and its own betting 
 establishments, and the w^ork of the DaAl goes on in hun- 
 dreds of different places at the same time. 
 
 A very long Australian word, and one which for 
 some time I could not understand the meaning of, is "total- 
 isator." The papers are full of arguments for and against 
 
VKJOROUS LIFE IN THE CHURCHES. 
 
 06 
 
 the " totjilisator." The ministers denounce it from the 
 pulpits, and the religious ])ress score it in their columns, for 
 it is sim})ly Ji legalization of gambling, in which the govern- 
 ment steps in and guarantees fair play ; that is, if there can 
 be such a thing as "fair play" in gambling. At least tiie 
 government guarantees that professional sharpers shall not 
 "fleece" the immature little gamblers, but that they shall 
 have an equal chance at the unrighteous winnings f)f the 
 lottery. 
 
 But it is pleasant to turn from the L'orse race and the 
 gambling hell to the church ; and to record that the church 
 life of Australia seems to me vigorous, genuine, and aggres- 
 sive. Nowhere are earnest Christians more numerous ; no- 
 where are the churches better managed or more liberally 
 sustained. Some of the metropolitan churches are immense 
 establishments, with lecture rooms and class rooms, large 
 libraries and parlors, and offices for all kinds of religious 
 and benevolent enterprises. Some of them are practically 
 theological seminaries as well, where the minister of the 
 church, with some assistance perhaps from brother ministers, 
 instructs young men for their future work. 
 
 Tiie singing for the most part is magnificent. No thin 
 warbling; no operatic airs; no display of organist and 
 choir, such as is sometimes so painful in churches on our 
 own side of the Pacific ocean; but hearty, Avhole-souled, 
 devotional, congregational singing obtains everywhere. 
 
 The ministers, for the most part, are well-educated and 
 able men, eloquent in defense of the truth, and outspoken 
 for all righteousness. Especially in connection with the 
 conventions for the Society of Christian Endeavor, which 
 it was my happy ])rivilege to attend during almost every 
 (lay of my stay in Australia, was this devotional spirit most 
 deliglitfully prominent. Never have I seen greater en- 
 
96 
 
 A BRIGHT OUTLOOK. 
 
 thusiasin or nioro intelligent l)iety ; or greater throngs, con- 
 sidering the population to be drawn upon, or a more intense 
 interest in the practical phases of religious life. And among 
 all the hap})V weeks of my life I count those spent at the 
 Australian Christian Endeavor Convention among the 
 brightest and best. 
 
 I need not here repeat the story of these delightful gath- 
 erings, which, in fact, occupied all my time when in this 
 land. AVith strong religious fervor and outspoken devo- 
 tion ; with the vast material resources of the new continent 
 to draw upon ; with the sturdy British character forming 
 the basis of the population, I cannot help feeling that the 
 outlook for this fair land materially, morally, and spiritually 
 is as bright as for any country on all the face of the earth. 
 
 There is no spot on earth Avliere democracy is more ram- 
 pant than in Australia. With all the talk about "home" 
 {i. e. England) and all the sentimental love for the mother 
 country, a very sturdy independence is cultivated, and a 
 kind of individualism which is said by those who know best 
 to tend to irreverence and disregard for authority. Young 
 Australia is complained of by old Australia for its precocity 
 and unpleasant development of beardless mannishness, just as 
 young America is often twitted with the same fault by its 
 elders. But I must say I have seen little of this priggish- 
 ness among young Australians, and I have met many of 
 them, and, as for young America, I think it has often been 
 sadly maligned in this same way. 
 
 For the secret ballot we have to thank Australia, for a 
 simpler way of registering our deeds, which it is hoped will 
 soon be universally adopted, and for other improvements in 
 municipal and civil government which naturally have origin- 
 ated with this fresh and independent people. 
 
 On the other hand, Australia has adopted many Ameri- 
 
UNFAIR REPRESENTATIONS. 
 
 or 
 
 can ideas, and is very ready to credit every new invention 
 and bright idea as a " Yankee notion," in wliatever corner of 
 the world it may have originatetl. But there are still many 
 niisund(;rstandings to be corrected and many prejudices to 
 be overcome. 
 
 There is a great need of a better understanding between 
 these two English-speaking nations on both sides of the 
 Pacific ocean. They have far more in common than most 
 ])eople believe. To understand these common character- 
 istics, one must be in sym})athetic relations to each. Tlie 
 newspapers on either side of the ocean seem to do tlieir best 
 U) give a distorted and unworthy ])icture of life, both in 
 Australia and America. In our American papers how little 
 do we see of real imj)ortanco concerning the Australian 
 colonies ? In the Austi'alian, one may search the cable mes- 
 sages for weeks for information concerning America and 
 find little besides accounts of horrid murders, desperate 
 suicides, and brutal prize fights, with here and there a dis- 
 torted political item miscalled " news." 
 
 It has been gravely said to me by a young Australian, 
 with an air of knowing it all, that no decent num went into 
 politics in America. lie had full means of knowing what 
 iu! was talking about, he said, and he was assured that no- 
 body but scoundrels and " scalliwags " ever ran for a politi- 
 cal office in the States. As I thougiit of our Christian gov- 
 ernors and congressmen, senators and representatives Avliora 
 I know are devout men and supporters of their churches, I 
 could onlv smile at his i ignorant conceit. 
 
 And yet this young man doubtless represents many 
 whose views of American life have been altogether gained 
 through the opaque and distorting medium of the submarine 
 cable. One of the American consuls in Australia told me 
 that he was convinced that news was willfully distorted by 
 

 ; ^^i 
 
 It . . Fl 
 
 til- 
 
 <L m 
 
 n 
 
 1 'r 
 
 i : 
 
 98 
 
 ABSURDITIES OF MISINFORMATION. 
 
 cable managers in Great Hritain for political effect, to lead 
 the colonists to think that America is inhabited chiefly by 
 cut-throats and assassins. This I cannot believe, however, 
 though the kind of news that is most often cabled gives 
 some color to the suj)j)osition. 
 
 This same consul told me that on one occasion he saw a 
 cable dispatch saying " that the Mexican Garcia and the 
 black rascal Ormond, with a band of followers, had invaded 
 Missouri, and had captured and sacked the town of In- 
 dependence." lie could not believe that this was true, since 
 the town in (piestion was more than one thousand miles 
 from the Mexican border and the bandits would have to go 
 through a thickly settled region to reach it. However, he 
 had no means of disproving the assertion, but a few days 
 after came the news that the telegraphic cipher had been 
 misinterpreted, and that it should have been interpreted to 
 mean that a certain liorse owned by the Duke of Westmin- 
 ster and the black filly Ormond, had captured all the sweep- 
 stakes at a certain race in England. I do not suppose that 
 the cable dispatches are often quite so absurdly mistrans- 
 lated as in this case, but it would be strange if there were 
 not numberless mistakes. 
 
 I remember searching all througli the London Times on 
 one occasion, for news from my own country, and the only 
 bit of information I could find was to the effect that a man 
 had been arrested on the streets of Boston for kissing his 
 wife ill public. This absurd canard, the invention of an idle 
 reporter, was accepted by " The Thunderer'''' as a solemn 
 truth, and constituted the sole allowance of American news 
 for that day. 
 
 Said a young man to me, " I understand that all Amei-i 
 can girls are given to chewing gum, and that they go around 
 spitting upon the streets promiscuously." He could hardl\^ 
 
HIS IDEAS OF AMKKICAX (ilKLS. 99 
 
 be convinced when I told him that no Anicricun young lady 
 I had ever seen was guilty of the latter heinous otFenso 
 against good nuinners. lie had probably seen some joke in 
 an American paper about girls chewing gum, and I 8U[)pose 
 that, from the same veracious source of information, he 
 would make up his mind that the Chicago young ladies all 
 wear No. 14 boots ; and that every Boston gii'l is a spinster 
 in spectacles, with a Greek lexicon under one arm and a 
 Latin dictionary under the other. Very likely the views 
 which our papere give of Australian life, whenever they 
 take the pains to give any (which I fear is not very often), 
 are equally distorted and fragmentary ; and if this chapter, 
 in regard to the little things in Australian life and customs 
 and manners, shall serve to introduce to any of my Ameri- 
 can friends the country which I have come so highly to 
 honor and respect, 1 shall be exceedingly glad. 
 
 aS" 
 
 ^^ 
 
 U' 
 
 

 CIIArTER V. 
 
 AUSTRALIA TIIIIOUGH AMERICAN EYES. 
 
 Au Early Definition — A " Personally Conducted " Trip — A Peaceful Land 
 
 — One of its Nci^diborH — Australia's Only Battle — The Eureka Stock 
 ado — Unwarlike Weapons — Hot, Hotter, Hottest — Summer the Pre- 
 vailing Season — Ragged and Tattered Trees — A Eucalyptus Country 
 
 — Many "Botany Bays" — Imported Pests — A Pugnacious Little 
 Briton — One of Australia's Expensive Problems — The Gentle, Peace- 
 loving Bear — The Kangaroo and the Emu — The Kangaroo's Small 
 Brotlicr — The Laughing Jackass — A Land of Cities— Tales of Politi 
 cal Corruption — An Exploded Boom — Melbourne the Magnificent — 
 Sydney the Pictures(|ue — Adelaide the Lovely — Ballarat the Golden 
 
 — Down in a Gold .Mine — Getting Ready to Descend — In Motley 
 Array — The Cage — Brave Women — United We Drop — Suppose ! — 
 Everything but Gold- A Bruve Miner — Risking Life for a Friend — 
 That Man was a Christian. 
 
 !| 
 
 ! i I 
 
 STORY is current liere in Aus- 
 tralia that an American geogra- 
 pliv was on(?b^ published wliich 
 contained this extraordinary piece 
 of information concerning this 
 vast continent. "Australia is a 
 place to wliich England sent her 
 convicts, some of whom have been 
 converted and have become her 
 leatling citizens." It was in this 
 same geography, doubtless, that 
 England was described as a 
 " small island off the coast of France." 
 
 Absurd as such a description seems after one has visited 
 these colonies with their thriving cities and bustling, cosmo- 
 politan, modern life, which, for energy and vigor, is not 
 
 (100) 
 
A COUNTKY LITThK KNOWN TO US. 
 
 101 
 
 surpassed anywliero in tho world, it is typical of a vast deal 
 of inisitiforiiiation that pivvails on both sides of the I'aciflu 
 (({•can coiicernin/;^ the ^rtnit countrif: on the opposite shores. 
 Kar too little of Australia is known in America, far too 
 litth; of America is known in Austi'aiia. These two peoples 
 of a common stock, a common lanj^iia^e, and a common 
 destiny, should know each other as they have not as yet 
 hcj^run to know each other; and if these notes of a traveler 
 in Australia shall do anythin;^ toward introducing these two 
 l)i'anches of the English-si)eaking race to each other, tho 
 author will feel (as autlujrs are accustomed to say in pre- 
 faces) that "'his work has not been altogether in vain." 
 
 The area of Australia is almost exactly the same as of 
 the United States, exclusive of Alaska, and about three- 
 (|iiarters as large as Europe, lint do not be alarmed, dear 
 reader, for I am not going into weary particulars, historical, 
 geographical, biographical, or ethnological. I am only 
 going to tell you of those things which impress a traveler in 
 a journey through this new land ; in fact, to take you with 
 nie on a personally conducted trip. You remember how this 
 great island looks upon the map. It is roughly heart- 
 shaped, but across the breadth of this heart is a journey of 
 2,;3UO miles, while from the top to the bottom in its very 
 narrowest length it is over 1,OOU miles. 
 
 It is not a country of vast and stupendous mountains, or 
 ini<ditv rivers, or belching volcanoes. It is eminentlv a 
 jioaceful, quiet, pastoral country. It has, to be sure, some 
 tine mountains, and one or two large rivers, and some mag- 
 nificent scenery, but there is more scenery which a tourist 
 would seek in a single canton in Switzerland than in this 
 whole continent of the southern seas. 
 
 However, if Australia is not a Switzerland, it has a 
 iSwitzerland at its doors, for one of the Australasian colonies, 
 
102 
 
 A IVIDK DOOHWAY. 
 
 
 '.il. 
 
 A^, 
 
 New Z(!al;m(l, cum houst of as iiiii^^'iiilict'iit iiiniiiitaiiis and 
 glaciers, lakes and wutcrl'alls as S\vit/,(M'laii(l, uikI procipiccis 
 and fionls liU(; tliose of Norway. I liav(^ said tliat tliis Aus- 
 tralasian Switzerland was at tli(^ «loors of Austi-alia, and y<'t 
 it is a ^'ood wide doorway; I'oj' l,2t>() miles of stoi'iny ocean 
 rolls hetween tlies(^ islands. However, tliis is a country of 
 ina;^iiilicent distances and as New Zealand is tli(! largest 
 nei<^'ld)oi' of Australia we may he pardoned I'or tliiid<inn- 
 of liei' as a near neighbor. 
 
 As is becominjL!;- a peaceful, |iastoi'al country, the liistoi'y 
 of tliis land since civilized num lii'st came here to ahid(^ is 
 far from warlike. In fact tliei-e is no nation on the fact; of 
 the earth whoso history has heen so little stain<'d with blood 
 as this land. I visited the only hattle-eVoimd on Australian 
 shor(?s, the Kureka, Stockade, so calle<l, near l»allarat. This 
 battle-ground is iu)t a Watei'hjo oi- a (Jettysburf^', by any 
 means. It is simply tin! scene of a brisk skii-mish betwtMMi 
 some I'iotous mint^rs and the authorities, wlii(;h n^sulted in 
 f(;)v fatalities on eithiM' side. Nevertheless an hei'oic iiumu 
 m(!nt marks the spot, and some unwarlike cannon, which 
 ])robably could not be fired, show tlieii' muzzles from the 
 historic hillock. Except for this brief skirmish the history 
 of the country has been absolutely bloodless. The Austra- 
 lians have no one to ti<^'ht and no one to fear. No nation 
 would think of sendin<^- an ai'med force to these shores, and 
 even if sent it would be route<l in even (juicker time than the 
 Hessians who were sent to contjuer tiie American colonies a 
 century a<j;'o. 
 
 What is the climate of this country, do you ask, my cui'i- 
 ous reader? Well, you mi<^'ht as well ask, "AVhat is tlu; 
 climate of the United States." You will have to come down 
 to ])articulars, and we shall ask you whether you desire to 
 know about the temperature of Texas or of North Dakota, of 
 
■;!. 
 
 .r 
 
 TALL AND TATTEKED TKEES. 
 
 103 
 
 Florida or of Miiinc. Tlore, too, thoro jiro all climates and 
 Jill toiiipcnituiTs. South Austi'alia is hot, Now South Wales 
 is hot fci', (Queensland is hottest. Victoi'ia has a more; teiii- 
 pci'ate cliniato and so has Tasnianiii, wliih^ souk; pai'ts of the 
 mountainous re«^ion of New Zeahind nm Aretie in their 
 icinperatui'e. 
 
 l!ul laU(i Australia thi'oui;iiout, wo may say that it is a 
 suiiiiiei' elime aiui far moi'e sumnun'-lilve than the saim; area 
 of liahilahle North Amei'iea. Summer is liei"(^ tlu^ pi'evail- 
 iii"' season, and when it is not summer tinu; it is either hito 
 ill tlu^ spi'in^' or early in tiu; fall. 
 
 Tiu! ve^^etation of Australia seems to a stranfjjer to ho 
 rat licr meagre and monotonous; not that anythin*^- will not 
 •iTow whieh is planted and well watered, hut indi<^'enous 
 trees arii lai';.;'ely of tlie eucalyptus class, and though some 
 of these arc tiie tallest trees in th<^ world, and ma^nillccnt 
 specimens of tr(;ehood, yet, foi* the most ])art, they ai'o 
 scrawny and scra^<^y, and as they shed tluiir hark, they 
 have a peculiarly ragyed and uid<emj)t look, like street 
 j^^aniins whose clothes are hanginj^ in tatters from their 
 liiiihs. The hotanists tell us that theiu^ arc^ 1.^)0 dilferent 
 kinds of eucaly[)tus trees, most of which helony to Australia 
 aloiii'. 
 
 liiit, after all, tlieso are splendid trees for the country, 
 and are, like most other inventions of Mother Nature, exactly 
 adapted for the woi'k which they have to do. Tliey have 
 vciy hjfno- taj) I'oots, which suck up the moistui'«; from a 
 ^I'cat de|)th, and their tough, leathery leaves lit them pecu* 
 liaily for tlu; dry climate. Hut though th(! eucaly])tus is 
 more largely representiul in the njitive forest than any other 
 tree, yet it is not fair to say that the vegetation as a whole 
 is of a dull, lifeless, and uninteresting character. 
 
 Nowhere have I seen sucli gorgeous flowers ; no land can 
 
 % 
 ■ ivM 
 
 I 
 
 :^ 
 
! i^ 
 
 ■t\l 
 
 : 
 
 '4m 
 
 
 i 
 
 , 
 
 i: ■ ■ ■ 
 
 : j 
 
 1 
 
 
 104 
 
 BRILLIANT FLOWERING PLANTS. 
 
 boast more ]na<^nilicent gardens. Nature, seeming desirous 
 of compensating tlie country for the usual lack of variety in 
 deciduous trees, has fully made up for this loss in the shrubs 
 and flowering plants with which she has so plentifully car- 
 peted the earth, especially during the s})ring months, Avlien 
 sufficient moisture makes the blossoms possible. "Botany 
 
 ABORIGINAL AI'STRALIAN. 
 
 Bay" may be found in man}'^ places along the shores of 
 Australia. The Wasatah is a most brilliant, showy, red 
 flower Avhich grows on a tall spike, while another famous 
 native of New South "Wales is the modest flannel flower, a 
 beautiful relative of the edelweiss of Switzerland, which it 
 much resembles. 
 
 Many of these brilliant flowering plants are indigenous 
 and others have been imported, such as the gorgeous golden 
 gorze, and the equally golden cape-weed, which, however 
 beautiful it looks when the sun shines upon it of i\ bright 
 
CAPE-WEED, SPARROWS, AND RABBITS. 
 
 106 
 
 spring morning, is a pest as utterly detested by the farmers 
 as the Avhite weed in our northern meadows. I'v the wav, 
 when will people learn to experiment less recklessly with 
 the products of other zones i "When will we learn the les- 
 son, that for the most part, the trees and plants and birds 
 and insects which God has settled in the land, are best 
 adapted to that country, and that we are running great 
 risks when we try to naturalize other citizens that are for- 
 eign to these climes ? 
 
 Kot only has the cape-weed become an unutterable nui- 
 sance, but the English sparrow is almost as great a pest in 
 Australia as in our own country. Why could Ave not have 
 l)een content to have left the chattering, mischievous, pug- 
 nacious little bird at liome, instead of spreading his ravages 
 through two great continents. The gipsy moth seems to be 
 a very harmless insect when you look at him with the dis- 
 piissionate eye of a naturalist, and yet what havoc he has 
 made, and how many thousands of dollars has his unfortu- 
 iiiite advent cost the goodly State of Massacliusetts ! 
 
 Could anything be more harmless in a])pearance than 
 the timid rabbit, and yet the introduction of a few })air of 
 these " feeble folk," has cost these colonies millions of pounds, 
 and the end is not yet. IIow to exterminate the pests the 
 colonists know not. They multiply faster than the hunter's 
 gun and the hunter's dog can extir})ate them. A vast re- 
 ward has been offered to anyone who shall invent a poison 
 l)otent enough to rid the country of them, but the reward 
 has never been earned as yet. The only way to secure 
 immunity from them is to build a "rabbit fence" around 
 any particular field, sunk a foot or two below the surface of 
 the ground under which the rabbits will not burrow. But 
 to do this on any large scale is manifestly impossible, and 
 the reward aforementioned still awaits the inventive Pas- 
 
mm. 
 
 106 
 
 RIDICULOUS ANIMALS. 
 
 teur or Edison, who may discover the deadly rabbit extermi- 
 nator. 
 
 I have said that the geological and political history of 
 Australia have been alike of a peaceful character, marked 
 by no great upheavals of nature or of man. This gentle 
 characteristic extends to the animal life of Australia as well, 
 for there arc no native animals of a lierce and savage nature, 
 no lions or })anthers, no wild cats or grizzly bears. The 
 kangaroo is the typical animal, and the emu is the typical 
 bird, and they are found one on either side of the New 
 South Wales coat of arms, while both are dignified by a 
 place on her postage stamps as well. There is, to be sure, a 
 native bear, called the koala, but it is a mild and jieace- 
 loving animal that climbs sluggishly about at night on trees, 
 in search of fruits and seeds. 
 
 The kangaroo is t/ie typical Australian animal, beyond 
 all others, and Avitli his snudler cousin, the wallaby, has 
 afforded me no end of amusement as I have seen them in 
 the well-kept zoological gardens of the country. With their 
 puny little forelegs Avliich seem so utterly inadequate to the 
 occasion, and Avhicli as often as the}' stand up on their hind 
 legs droop down in a helpless, lackadaisical way, they are 
 the very pictures of innocence and helplessness ; but I am 
 told that a blow from the hind leg of an " old man" kanga- 
 roo, or even a stroke of its powerful tail is not to be des- 
 pised, and Avhen angry and fearful for their young, they 
 Avill fight in desperate fashion. The most stupid animal 
 whose acquaintance it was ever my pleasure to make, is tlie 
 wombat, a kind of dull, listless woodchuck, with a most 
 uninteresting countenance, who burrows in the ground like 
 his American cousin, but is not nearly so vivacious and 
 enterprising. Among the birds is a very solemn-faced 
 creature called the laughing jackass, who looks as though he 
 
A STUPID AND HAKDONIC BIRD. 
 
 lor 
 
 had not an idea in his head or a friend in the workl, as he 
 sits perched all day imni()val)le in liis hirge cage in the 
 gardens. Bat I am told that when in his native haunts, he 
 is a diffeiont sort of a creature, and is gifted with a loud, 
 sardonic laugh, which is very startling as one passes his 
 haunts. For just as the traveler has got by his habitat, this 
 ironical, chuckling laugh bursts out as though some demon 
 was rejoicing over the traveler's i)rogress to the City of 
 J)osti'uction. 
 
 Much of the luiman life of Australia, aside from the 
 Al)(jrigines, is found in the hirge cities. In fact, far too large 
 a proi)ortion, as I have already renuirked, of our Australian 
 friends live in the cities, and too small a proportion for the 
 best and truest ])rosperity of the C(juntry cultivate the f. AL 
 This fact is acknowledged and nu^urned over by thoughtful 
 Australians everywhere. If Paris is Fnince, much more is 
 ^Melbourne Victoria, and Sydney is New South Wales, and 
 Adelaide is South Australia, In fact, not far from 50 per 
 cent, of the people live in cities, and nearly that percentage 
 of the whole p()j)ulation is found in these great leading cities 
 or their immediate environs. 
 
 The usual tales are told in the ]iai)ers about |)olitical cor- 
 ruption and incompetence of premier and councilors and 
 members of the Colonial Parliament. I have learned to put 
 very little confidence in these newspaporial -wails about the 
 decadence of legislation and legislators. I have heard so 
 many of them in my own country that I am inclined to dis- 
 count those t'aat I read in an\' other. Like the man wdio 
 was not frightened by ghosts because he had seen so many 
 ot" them, I am not greatly alarmed when I see the opposition 
 papers telling the country that it is going to rack and ruin 
 as fast as the other party can carry it. 
 
 However, there have doubtless been some sad revelations 
 
 I, . r I 
 

 
 \ V 
 
 > 
 
 1^ 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i ! 
 
 i 
 
 } 
 k 
 
 |; 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 108 
 
 AN INDOMITABLE PEOPLE. 
 
 of liito ill i)<)litic'al life, iind Victoria cspooiiiUy is suffering 
 terribly i'rom an exj)l()(le(l "hooni." Throe years since, so 
 the Victorians tell mo. it was su|)j)o.so(l that the golden gates 
 of prosjjority were wide open for all the colonies, and would 
 never bo closed, and that all that any one had to do was to 
 enter in anil help himself to as many millions as he was 
 smart enough to grab. Ileal estate Avent u^jf to a fabulous 
 price, wildcat schemes were entered into with a recklessness 
 worthy of South Sea ]»ubl)le years. I\[any men in each 
 
 V t ft' 
 
 large city were suj)posod to bo veritable descendants of 
 Croesus and whatever they touched, it was thought, would 
 turn to shining gold, liut the inevitable crash came which 
 always follows an extravagant hoom, and for the last two 
 years A^'ictoria and Now South Wales, especially the former, 
 have been suffering sadly from the cc^llapso. 
 
 Ilow^ever, this depression must bo merely temporary. 
 With the magnificent country to be developed behind the 
 large cities, with aii indomitable ]ieople, and English pluck 
 and perseverance to Avork upon, there is no doubt concern- 
 ing the future history of these colonies. As it is. they 
 have made marvelous j^rogross during- the last forty years, 
 for it is only since ffold was discovered in 1851 that the 
 great future of Australia has boon assured. AVithin that 
 time Melbourne has grown from an insignificant village 
 to a vast and beautiful city. The word '"magnificent" is 
 scarcely too large a word to be used in describing this me- 
 tro])olis. Some of its streets are equal to the best that can 
 be found in l^aris or London, Kew York or Philadelphia, 
 and, take it throughout, it has a cleaner, fresher, and more 
 wholesome ap])oaranco than either of those cities. Its public 
 buildings are massive and imposing, its stores are s]">acious, and 
 much of the architecture of its principal thoroughfare, Col- 
 lins street, can scarcely be matched elsewhere in the world. 
 
 i^ 
 
M'- 
 
 A CITY OP HOMES. 
 
 1(>!» 
 
 S\ilnoy is not so \v(!ll laid out iis ^[ell)oin'n(\ for, liko 
 Topsy, it "just <^ro\ve'r' instead of bcin*^ ])lanno(l caivfully 
 hy arcliitects and surveyors; but it is ii nioro picturos(|Uo 
 city by reason of its irref^ularity, and in most respects fully 
 as interesting as IVfelbourne. 
 
 Adelaide combines citv and country in a cliarmin''' wav, 
 
 IN ONE OK MEI,110I'KNK's PAKKS. 
 
 :ui(l is surrounded on all sides by a wide ])arlv filled with 
 l)fautiful trees and brilliant shrubbery. Beyond this ])ark- 
 enc'losed area are the suburban cities and villas, and back of 
 all is a lovely range of green hills that encircles the city 
 most lovingly round about. Adelaide seened to me pre- 
 cminentlv a citv of homes, and the religious influences are 
 .strong and abiding. 
 
 Another remarkable city that I visited is Ballarat, the 
 center of the gold-mining industries of Australia ; or at least 
 
I : 
 
 
 i -^ 
 
 :i 
 
 
 
 1 i 
 
 ^ili' 
 
 ll 
 
 ill 
 
 H - 
 
 1 
 
 lii' 
 
 110 
 
 NOT A TYIMCAL MININ<J TOWN. 
 
 Olio of tho centers, for Bendigo, which 1 did not visit, is 
 equally famous in its way as a golden city. 
 
 All my preconceived notions of a mining town were 
 rudely destroyed hy liallarat, for, instead of belching chim- 
 neys and ban-en hillsides, bedraggled streets and dirty 
 houses, such as I have always associated in my imagination 
 with a mining town, I found here one of the handsomest of 
 modern cities with splendid streets, tree-lined and statue- 
 adornrd ; line ])ul)lic buildings and business blocks, and a 
 charming i'esi<lential (juarter where some of the most reiined 
 and hosj)ital)le ])eople on the face of the earth have their 
 homes. But des))itc these delightful surroundings, one sees 
 at a glance that liallarat is a city of mines. Huge heaps of 
 yellow earth, almost mountainous in their size, sui'round the 
 city in every direction, and these show where the mines 
 have been and in many cases still are worked. From some 
 of these fabulous sums of gold have been extracted, and the 
 sup})ly seems ])ractically inexhaustible, for, however far the 
 miners have gone, they have not found the end of the gold- 
 bearing quartz. 
 
 Let us go (hnvn togetlier, dear reader, into this dark hole 
 in the ground, for we will never have a better opportunity 
 to see a gold mine. As we go into the oltice of the com- 
 pany to don our underground costumes, Ave see a great pile 
 of ap])arent golden ingots, — ])laster representations of the 
 gold that has been taken out of this mine during the last 
 three or four yeai's. These bars are piled up under a glass 
 case, and represent hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth 
 of yellow metal which has come out of this one hole in the 
 ground. 
 
 Ikit Ave Avill not linger on the surface, for here are the 
 clothes that Ave are to jmt on, a motley anay'Df all sorts 
 and sizes : battered hats, ragged coats, trousers that reach 
 
IN PICTUKESyUE KACJS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 only liiilf ^vay belou' tlu; knee, und 1kk>is li(>|)('l('ssly run 
 down at tl'O heels ; but no mutter, lor wo arc not g'oiug" into 
 polite society for the next few hours. 
 
 So i)icturos(iue, however, is our ri;^, that wo j)auso to have 
 our photographs taken before descending into the bowels of 
 Mother Earth. Then wo find the entrance to tho mine and 
 the cage waiting to carry us down. It is a pokerish looking 
 
 llEADY KOU Tilt; DKSCKXT INTO A GOLD MINK. 
 
 liolc, indeed, and requires some little nerve on the part of 
 the ladies of our party. But I have always noticed that a 
 i-ciiuine Avonian, though she may run from a snake, and ))os- 
 sil)le give a little scream at the sight of a mouse, always 
 braces up when her genuine courage is required. And first 
 of all, the ladies step u})on the platform of the cage and 
 stow themselves away in the smallest ]iossible compass, four 
 going down at a time. A cord is passed around them, tying 
 them all together, so that not only united they stand, but 
 united they drop down into the lower regions which yawn 
 
 lii 
 
112 
 
 DARKNESS THAT MAY HK FELT. 
 
 bonciitli tliciii. Tlio si<^n{il is given iiml down we po. It is 
 an awful plunge into the depths of the eai-th. Ligl)t and 
 ho|)e wo seem to leave above us, and a pitchy bhulvness that 
 may bo felt is all that seems to bo below us. However, we 
 have not time for any very long-continued dismal rcUcctions, 
 for in less than three minutes wo are at the bottom of tho 
 shaft, and picking > ,ir way gingerly over sharj) pieces of 
 ((uartz, and through pools of muddy wat(!r, following oui' 
 guide who goes bv^fore us with his llickei'ing candle at 
 which wo have all lighted our own torches. 
 
 If not lieroic, there is something picturesque and weird 
 in tho sight of a file of men and women stumbling along in 
 a narrow passage a thousand feet below^ the surface, lighted 
 only by a few gleams that serve to make the darkness visi- 
 ble. Even the stoutest hearted cannot hell) thinking: 
 " Suppose the fire damp should explode ! " '' Sup])oso the 
 flood gate should give way and ])our their whelming floods 
 of water into this hole while wo are here ! " " Su])posing 
 these wooden sup})orts that Avail us in should yield to the 
 tremendous pressure above them and collajise, who would 
 carry the tale of the imprisoned Yankees in a Ballarat gold 
 mine i " 
 
 However, none of these things occur or are very likely to 
 occur, for the utmost precauticm is taken, and I imagine that 
 life is quite as safe in this underground hole as it is on 
 Broadway or Washington street. After stumbling around 
 in the different passages for an hour or two, looking for 
 nuggets which never appear, and searching the walls dili- 
 gently for specks of gold which we can never see, we return 
 again to the shaft that will take us up to air and sunlight, 
 convinced that about tho only thing one cannot find in a 
 gold mine is gold. 
 
 Yet all this innocent-looking w^hite quartz which seems 
 
HKAVY TO (iKT AND I.KiHT TO Hol,|). 
 
 li:{ 
 
 to contain not even a scintillation of tliu vcllow metal, is 
 cliargod with it, and wlu-n it is crushed, Hooded with water, 
 and strained through hlankets, and treated with (luicksilvor' 
 wliosi! deft fin;^ers j)iclv out every little paj'ticU' of tli«' pre- 
 cious ore, it is found to be exti'enielv rich in that connnoditv 
 f(ti' which so many men are willing to nuUce slaves of them- 
 selves all tiuiir lives long. 
 
 The miniM's themselves, however, get no extravagant 
 wages; though tliey work in gold and for gold, they can 
 only (hiily line their pockets with about $2.r)0 worth of the 
 iiu'tal for wliich they delve. So true is it in gold mines as 
 in every other industry, and every other effort moral, sjjirit- 
 iial, and nuiterial; "other men labor and we are entered 
 into their labors." 
 
 "That man must have been a Christian," said our guide, 
 as we were going up from the bottom of the mine to the 
 
 daylight again. 
 
 "What man?" Ave inquired. 
 
 "AVhy, the fellow that savetl his chum's life in one of the 
 mines a little while ago." 
 
 " Tell us all about it," we said, and before we got up to 
 daylight we had time to hear the brief and graphic story. 
 Two miners were recently going up the shaft together in a 
 1 tucket, when one of them accidentally fell off. They were 
 liurrying uj) to get out of tiio way of four charges of rend- 
 rock which had been put into tlie drilled holes to blast away 
 a })()rtion ot the wall of the mine. The fuse had been 
 lighted, and these men, scrambling into the bucket, had 
 given the signal to be hoisted up, Avlien, as I said, one of 
 tlieni fell out. Quick as thought his brave companion gave 
 tlu; signal to lower the bucket again. 
 
 It had gone some twenty or thirty feet only, and the 
 man who fell from it, though stunned and bruised, was not. 
 
 Iff 
 I 
 
114 
 
 A HERO OF THE MINE. 
 
 killed. His coiiipiinioii felt arouiul in tln» uwfiil (lai-kncss 
 for tlio t'har<^('s of rendrock in onlor to ])ull thorn out and 
 prevent the explosion. lie found three of them, hut tlu? 
 fourth he could not find in the darkness and confusion of the 
 moment. lie had hut a few seconds to work for the fuse 
 was l)urnin<; toward the explosive with fri<;htful rapidity. 
 
 Finding that ho could not lay his hand upon the last 
 charge, he drctw his senseless companion into a niche in the 
 rock, shielded him as far as j)ossihle from the Hying frag- 
 ments, and wait(Ml tin; dreadful moment of the explosion. 
 Was ever a man placed in a [)osition of more awfui ex- 
 pectancy? Did ever a braver soul c(mrt death for the sake 
 of saving a fellow-num^ The fearful explosicm came. The 
 mine was lilled with suffocating fumes, the rocks flew in 
 every direction, l)ut, strange to say, neither of these men 
 were killed. They wei'o bruised and cut, and much shaken 
 nervously, as can be imagined, but the bravo deliverer was 
 able to crawl to the bucket again when the ex})losion was 
 over and to cari-v his woundetl friend with him, and both 
 were hoisted into God's suidight again. 
 
 AVith all our hearts we agree with our guide's remark: 
 "That man must have been a Christian! " 
 
 m 
 
ciiAiTKii vr. 
 
 THE CUriSK OF TlIK r///.\V/7'r— AN INTKHK3TING VOYAGE 
 IN ST!{AN(}K COMI'ANV — IN TIIK CJOLD FIELDS OF 
 Al'STUALIA. 
 
 Hcgimiiiif^ Our Log-liook — Mrs. IMlgrim's Resolve — The Cfiiiit/tn — A 
 Uiiiiiuu unci Unusiiiil Journey — Our Wteainer — Oiir Stewards — 
 •'I.oasl Hecf," " 01aii.:,'c Flitltls" and "Lice ("aUes" — Preparing for 
 Hot Weather — Our Fellow I'usseiigers — Lite in the Steerage — Mr. 
 Ah Sec niid his Wives — Mrs. Ah See Number One — riH)tograi)hing 
 the Family — The Hider of the l{onst— The Hlack Fellows — Ce- 
 k'stials l{etnrning Home — Taking Home Their Own Hones — The 
 Chinaman at Dinner — A Race of Sciuatters — The Fan-tan "Layout" 
 — Cliinese I'assion for (Jamhling — Within tlic Harrier Reef — "White 
 Man, He too Salt" — ({littering (lold Fields — How (Jold was Diseov- 
 ered in Australia — Nash and His ',' Find" — " Welcome Strangers" — 
 (iold on Rrogans — The Romance! of th(,' Morgan Mine — A Visit from a 
 Native IJushmau — "Baeky, Raeky, ]?ack " — White Ant Hills. 
 
 O start fairly with our log-book 
 Ave imist tell j'ou that tho 
 Ch'nKjtK sails frotii Melljourne to 
 Ilong Kong, but tluit we did not 
 join her until she had plowed her 
 way for a thousand miles along 
 the waters of the Australian 
 coast, and had reached Brisbane, 
 the capital of Queenshind. 
 
 IVIrs. Pilgrim had declared 
 that nothing would induce her to 
 go a mile by water tluit could be 
 traversed by land. So we had traveled by rail from Ade- 
 laide to jVIelbourne, from ]\[elbourne to Sydney, from 
 Sydney to Brisbane, ca long eighteen hundred miles in all ; 
 had attended most enthusiastic and long-to-be-remembered 
 
 (115) 
 
 I 
 
If > .. 
 
 :i!^i 
 
 ii(i 
 
 NOT AN KVEllV-lJAV JOLIINEV. 
 
 (Mii'istiiin Eiidojivor (Conventions in ull tiiosc cities; iind on 
 the jii'tcnioon of Octolnn" 22 were ready to einl)a!-i< on the 
 ti'ini and slanncli C/iliujhi-^ "the magnilicent stiiainer," iis 
 the lunvspaju'i" advertisements called lier, ol" the China Navi- 
 gation ('oin])any. 
 
 I slioidd hai'div term her "inaynillcent" hnt sluMvas an 
 exceedin<^ly comloi'tabh; vessel, and for three weeks aH'orded 
 ns a very restfnl and pleasant liome after the hibors of six 
 weeks of continnons convent!* n-going. 
 
 Now before ns is a voya<^e worth takln<^ indeed. Noiu^ 
 of youi' (!verv-(lay trips across the Atlantic that you can 
 make in i\\v, fraction of a week; noiu; of your common 
 jaunts across the h)ng ferry between San Francisco and 
 I long Kong; but a uni(|ue and unusual joui'ney is this 
 witinn the (treat Barrier Keef, and thi-ough the marvelous 
 Malay Archipelago, and the many seas and sti-aits which 
 form the watei'-way between two of our iivo continents. 
 
 Here is a new sensation for the hhtuS traveler; a journey 
 at which every scribbling voyager innw the time of Colum- 
 bus lias not had a hack. Jlere is a trip over nnruHled 
 seas and on an even keel, such a trip as (me frequently reads 
 about in Haming desci'ipticms of lival steamboat lines, but 
 very rarely exj)eriences after one has taken i)assage on one 
 of the aforesaid rival steamshi))s. 
 
 ]?efore W(; get out of !Mor(!ton bay, into which the Bris- 
 bane river debouches and which is the point of our embai'ka- 
 tion, let us take a look at the ChitKjtn, our floating home for 
 the next three Aveeks. It is a long, low-built, somewhat 
 rakish-looking steamer, Avith a huge black smoke-stack, a 
 large amount of awning to ward otl' the rays of the fierce 
 troj)ical sun, and large steerage accommodations for J(jIiii 
 Chinaman, who always extensively patronizes this line, as he 
 goes back and forth to and from his native land. 
 
ON HOARD THK "CHINQTU." 
 
 117 
 
 Beiii'^ built liU'^'c'ly l'<»r IVei^lit, tlu; lirst-rlass piisscn^csr 
 acc'oimiiodiitions aru somewhat liinit<'<l, l)iit they arc; (jiiito 
 sutlicieiit lor the passoii^'er trallk; ol' this riMuotc! conuT of 
 th(^ woi'hl, aiul they make up in (|uality what they hick in 
 (|iiantity. Evei'ythin<^ is exquisitely neat, tlu; table is abun- 
 dant und exc(»llent, and tlu; service of the ('hineso stewurds 
 leaves nothing to be; desired, (^uiek, observunt, quiet, cat- 
 like in their tread, these China boys are the perfection of 
 ship servants. 
 
 All oui" sailors, as well as cooks, waiters, and stciward^ 
 are (Miinese orAlalays, ai\d ev(Mi the librarian of the (^/I'nujtic- 
 is ''Number One IJoy" as his fellow-stewai'ds call him. At 
 the table the watchful "Hoy" who is detailed to look alter 
 our comfort stands at our elbow to replenish our tund)ler, or 
 to nil our teacup, or to |)ass us the toast whenevei'onr enq)ty 
 cup or i)late sugg'ests any lack, and gently to insinuate the 
 bill of fare under our nose when W(> ])aus(; for a monunit in 
 our <j,'astron()mic elforts. 
 
 Order for "loast beef" and "olange tlittels" arc^ continu- 
 ally sent back to the cook in the galley, and I know of 
 a small boy who finds it very hard to I'epress a snicker when 
 at the bi'eakfast table the fre(pient o)'der for "lice cakes" 
 is heard. 
 
 In every way we are reminded that the ship is built for 
 tropical weather. The doubhi awning over the [)i"omenade 
 deck, through which even the awl'td sun-glai'e of Noithern 
 Austi'alia linds it hard to pierce;; tlu; heavy Indian |nuikahs 
 over each table, which, during the meals, are swung by 
 invisible coolies; the hard beds on which are no blatdscts or 
 spreads or even sheets, all tell us to niake up oui" minds for 
 hot weather. And well we may, for the cruise of the 
 ah'iutjtii is alnu)st wholly within the tropics. 
 
 The only drawback (and iu this imperfect world there 
 
 ' ii 
 
 11 
 
 m 
 
118 
 
 THE AH SEES. 
 
 hS' 
 
 I * ■ 
 
 must bo sonic drawbaok oven to such ji suininor voyii<^o as 
 this) is tho continuous heat. Not that it is ivinarkably in- 
 tense at any one nioniont, l)nt it is so uni'CMnittin<^- and on r 
 vatin<^ that one ]on<^'s for iin ic(> pahico and a tobo<^gan slido 
 many times every (hiy. Kighty-live degrees in the morning, 
 and eighty -seven degrees at noon, and eighty-ilve degrees 
 again at sunset, and eighty-four degrees at nii(hiight, wiien 
 continued (hiy after (hiy, are calcuhited to rechice tho pity 
 one has alwnys felt for the Es(|uimau in his snow hut. 
 
 Now let us take a h)ok iit our feUow ])nssengers of the 
 Chinyta. Not the Europeans with their continental (h'oss 
 and their chimney-pot liats and tlieir calf-skin boots: we 
 will not waste our time upon such common peo])le (by the 
 way, your point of view makes all the ditrerence in the 
 world as to who the common ])eo[)le are), but wo will look 
 on the afterdeck and on tho ])oop for tho second and third- 
 class passengei's, if wo would forage in fresh fields and 
 human pastures new. 
 
 There on the poop deck we shnU find Mr. All See with 
 his two wives and his four children ; tho prosperous Chinese 
 merchant of Sydney, who has made his little [)ile in Aus- 
 tralia, and is going home to spend it in Canton, Avhere he 
 will bo a great and wealthy man among his almond-eyed 
 
 Mr. Ah See is fat and good-natured, and seems very fond 
 of the four little Ah Sees, even though two of them are 
 girls. Like the model husband that he seems to be, he has 
 one of the cliiklren in his arms most of the time, even 
 though he has two wives to care for them. 
 
 But "Tommy" and "Fleddy," and "Maly" and 
 
 "Eliza" are all very nearly of an age, and are quite bright 
 
 and pert enough to do credit to their English names. Mrs. 
 
 Ah See Number One is a stout woman with a pleasanv, 
 
TAME BLACKS. 
 
 119 
 
 motherly face, slant eyes, and two liiig(i slicll i'iii<;s in her 
 ears, while her hair is done up in a most feni'liil and woiid(»r- 
 I'ul fashion, (juite ecjual to tlu; coitrure of an Amei-iciin l)elle 
 when chif^nons Avere in fashion a few yeai'S since. 
 
 She evidently "rules the roost" in the Ah See houseiiold, 
 while !Mrs. Ah See Number Two is like an ohler dau^^^iiter, 
 thou<^h more submissive and bidable than s(nne ehler (hiug'h- 
 ters whom I know. 
 
 AVhen I desire to take their pictures, Mrs. Nunib(!i' One 
 steps forward, takes little ICliza from Mrs. Number Two, who 
 is giving the baby her morning meal from the maternal 
 fount, and is ready to pose l)efore the kodak in her a])pi'o- 
 priate place as the rightful head of the family and the 
 mother of all the children ; and, in a certain sense, of all 
 the other wiv^es as well. 
 
 Here, also, are three " black fellows " among the third- 
 class passengers who are going to Port Darwin with a cattle- 
 (li'ove, and from thence into the uninhabited wikls of South 
 Australia. Quiet, stolid, undemonstrative fellows are these 
 " tame blacks," who seem to care for nothing but to be 
 stretched on the hatchway all day long, and to sit up long 
 enough to oat an enormous plate of beef and potatoes and 
 cabbage three times a day. Their skins are jet black ; such, 
 a depth of lustrous blackness as I have nev^er seen except in 
 Australian aborigines ; their eyes are as black as their skins, 
 uiul glow like tw^o stars in a setting of alabaster ; while their 
 woolly hair that stands up on end is as black as everything 
 else about them excepting the whites of their eyes. 
 
 Their faces are not vicious, however, and they make 
 faithful shepherds and herdsmen who will defend their mas- 
 ters against their ferocious brethren, who still infest the 
 northern portion of Australia. 
 
 Interesting as are our second and third-class fellow pas- 
 
 uA 
 
120 
 
 OUR FRIENDS IN THE STEERAGE. 
 
 in. ■ 
 
 1 |P^HH 
 
 •'I 
 
 
 
 sengers, our friends in the steerage are more interesting still, 
 for here wo have John Chinaman, in all his heathen unlove- 
 liness, to be sure, but at the same time, m all his picturesque 
 barbarity. Here are some fifty or sixty Mongolians going 
 back to China once more. More than Mecca to the Moham- 
 medan, more than Paris to the Frenchman, more than 
 London to the cockney, is China to the Chinaman. His 
 cupidity will tempt him to go away, but nothing can per- 
 suade him to stay away from his beloved land, and every 
 returning ship is loaded Avith returning Celestials. If, by 
 any mischance, he dies away from home, his bones are 
 never allowed to rest in peace except in the soil of the Flow- 
 ery Kingdom. 
 
 So it happens that many of our passengers on the 
 Chinytu are old men, decre})it and feeble, toothless and 
 almost blind, who are evidently taking their bones home for 
 burial, thus getting a last glimpse of their native land and 
 saving the expense of an embalming surgeon at the same 
 time. 
 
 But others among our passengers are stalwart, lusty 
 young Celestials, with neatly-braided pig-tails coiled under 
 their caps or thrust into a side-pocket of their white blouses. 
 
 It is an unending source of enjoyment to go into the 
 steerage at any hour of the day or night, a free play-house, 
 Avhere the actors are all entirely unconscious of histrionic 
 effort, and thus attain the perfection of good acting. 
 
 To go down the companion-way Avhich separates the 
 cabin passengers from the steerage, is a swift descent from 
 Europe to China, and at meal-times the visit is always espe- 
 cially interesting. In their very impromptu meals, first a 
 big Avicker basket of rice, the great staple of Chinadoin 
 everywhere, is brought in from the galley and set down 
 anywhere on the steerage deck. Then a small dish of meat 
 
 J'l 
 
RICE AND CHOPSTICKS. 
 
 121 
 
 soused in plenty of gravy follows, then another dish of 
 boiled greens and a bottle of Chinese wine is set on the deck, 
 and dinner is served. A dozen bare-legged Chinamen, clad 
 in shiny black waterproof blouses, squat around these four 
 dishes and ])repare for business. Each has a china bowl and 
 two chopsticks in his hand. First )ie fills his bowl to the 
 brim with boiled rice, and then how he makes the chop, 
 sticks fly ! Putting the rim of the bowl close up to his lips, 
 he shovels his mouth full of rice with his ra])id little sticks. 
 "When it can hold no more he pauses for a moment for 
 iH'eatli and for mastication, and then picks up most dexter- 
 ously a morsel of meat and a wad of greens which he crowds 
 into the interstices of the rice-filled cavern Avhicli he calls his 
 month. 
 
 After munching this mixture with evident satisfaction 
 for a minute or two, he again raises the rice bowl to his lips, 
 oi'ams the cavern again with the utmost alacrity, adds ^a 
 little spice in the way of meat and greens, and enjoys an- 
 otiier rapturous period of mastication until that, too, is dis- 
 ])osed of. It is wonderful how long these fellows can squat 
 < in their haunches. A position which would cramp our mar- 
 row bones in half a minute they will maintain throughout a 
 long meal, apparently with the utmost ease and composure. 
 
 Just beyond the dinner party is a circle of gamblers 
 around the fan-tan " lay out " ; for John is an inveterate 
 gambler. He will work like a slave for years in some 
 foreign land, save and scrape and hoard and live on next to 
 nothing; and then gamble away all his little hoard on his 
 journey back to China. First, ho will bet all his money, 
 tlien Avager his clothes, and then his wife and children, 
 wliile, if his soul were at his own disposal, I have no doubt 
 lie Avould Avager that in his passion for gambling. 
 
 Squatting on their haunches in a corner of the steerage 
 
 f 
 
 9 *■• 
 
 ■n\ 
 
122 
 
 WITHIN THE BARRIER REEF. 
 
 |. <i , ; 
 
 deck is another circle of Chinese gjunblcM's, throwin*^ dice 
 and playing cards, with a dexterity ac([iiired only by long 
 experience. They are smoking cigai'ettes, or curious ])ipes 
 with minute bowls, which when not in use they tuck behind 
 their ears, until they desire another whiflF. 
 
 But it must not be thought that all the passengers of the 
 Chhujtu are gamblers. A traveler in foreign lands is only 
 in duty bound to describe the unusual and picturesque, and 
 he need not waste his space upon the manly but everyday 
 officers of the Chingtu, or the very pleasant, but quite un- 
 noteworthy Englishmen and Australians, Americans and 
 Germans and Frenchmen who make up her small first-class 
 passenger list. 
 
 Now it is quite time that we turn our thoughts from the 
 little Avorld of the Chingtu to the larger world around us. 
 
 "We were just steering out of Moreton bay, were we not, 
 when we went below to look at our strange assortment 
 of passengers? 
 
 The water is smooth and glassy, and over just such an 
 unruffled sea the captain tells we are likely to sail for more 
 than two weeks, for, during the first Aveek, Ave shall keep 
 well within the Great Barrier reefs Avhich effectually prevent 
 the rude Atlantic waves from buffeting our progress ; and 
 during the second Aveek, the many islands off the coast of 
 Northern Australia and the Malay Arcliii)elago act as break- 
 waters for our course, so that, practically, Avitli the exception 
 of the last three days, the Avliole cruise of the Chingtu is 
 Avithin landlocked seas. This assurance is a great delight to 
 some of our company, for even the most indifferent sailor 
 cannot fail to enjoy such a trip as this. 
 
 Those sunbaked, blistered mountains on our left mark 
 the coast of Queensland, and Avhat a tremendous colony it 
 is! More than five times the size of Great Britain and Ire- 
 
)n 
 
 IS 
 
 l(H' 
 
 it 
 
h 
 t: 
 (I 
 
 V 
 
 tl 
 
 C 
 
 I i '' 
 
 I A 
 
 Ul 
 
 sa 
 
 j)l 
 
 teJ 
 
 ali 
 
 go 
 
 lio 
 
 Jini 
 
 pn 
 
 ev( 
 
 Va 
 
 Ell 
 
 "fr 
 
 too 
 
 wil 
 
 cast 
 
 iiiai 
 
 lieai 
 islai 
 witl 
 sens 
 ] 
 ofrei 
 
M 
 
 VVHITR MAN, HE TOO SALT. 
 
 136 
 
 -Jatflfcr. 
 
 land, the gcogra})liies tell us, and we can well imagine that 
 they are not exaggerating the truth, as we sail on, day after 
 (lay, day after day, in 
 vain effort to get beyond 
 tlie northern point of 
 Cape York. 
 
 Far off yonder in 
 Northern Australia are 
 unexplored wilds !>iid 
 savage black men, who 
 would not only take 
 pleasure, so our captain 
 tells us, in flaying us 
 alive, but in eating tt 
 good tender Yankee after 
 lie has been well flayed 
 and cooked. These blacks 
 prefer Chinamen, how- 
 ever, so he assures us, to 
 Yankees or to people of 
 European extraction of any kind, for they are much 
 "fresher" says our epicurean aboriginal. "White man, he 
 too salt," is the verdict of this fastidious savage. AVell, we 
 will rejoice in our saline characteristics, for if we should be 
 cast ashore on this inhospitable coast, salt, as is its nature, 
 may preserve us. 
 
 On the left or Australian side, as we steam northward, 
 headland succeeds headland; on the right, island succeeds 
 island, and so all da}'^ long and all the days long, we glide on 
 with never enough of a pitch or a roll to disturb the most 
 sensitive stomach. 
 
 Early in its history the government of Queensland 
 oilered rewards, varying from a thousand to five thousand 
 
 ABOUKUNAL AUSTRALIAN. 
 
 P 
 
 I 
 
1-^6 
 
 CAPUK'IOL'H FORTUNE. 
 
 (loUiirs for the tliscovorv of i)ayiil)lo j^'-old lields. As can 
 easily bo imagined, this offer, coinl)in(Ml with the certain 
 wealtli which a great gohl mine wouhl assure, set many men 
 to searching with all their eyes over the hot ))lains of 
 ijueensland. JJut fortune is ju-overhially capricious witii 
 the gold seeker, and it so hai)i)ened that not one of these 
 scientific gold hunters, but a ])oor vagabond, named Nash, 
 who toward the end of 1S«;7 was wandering about in an aim- 
 less sort of way in the neighborhood of Cxymjjie, about Dio 
 miles from l>risbane, found "an auriferous region of great 
 extent," as the Australian histories put it. In other words, 
 he had struck gold and struck it rich. In a day or two his 
 ompty pockets were heavier by several thousand dollars 
 worth of gold than when he made 1ms great "iind." At first 
 he set to woi'k to gather it all in for himself, but his goUl 
 field was near a traveled I'oad, and he was frequently 
 <)ljli<;ed to crouch anions the bushes until the distant foot- 
 steps told him that the departing traveler was far on his 
 way. Then he would go to work Avith feverish haste to 
 scrai)o together a few more shining Hakes of the precious 
 metal. 
 
 At length, however, he found that he could not keep his 
 precious gold field all to himself any longer, and, going to 
 the nearest town of ^[aryborough, he proclaimed his discov- 
 ery, and received his reward. 
 
 As can easily be imagined, a rush at once took place to 
 Gympie, and one of the early gold birds found a most re- 
 markable Avorra very near the surface of the gi'ound, in tlio 
 shape of a nugget of pure gold that weighed nearly a hun- 
 dred pounds. 
 
 Even this nugget, however, is eclipsed by several that 
 Iiave been found in the colony of Victoria, such as the 
 ''Welcome Stranger," found in 1869, which actually 
 
 
Jl 
 
 m 
 
 WELCOME NUtKJETS FOR WEARY MINERS. 
 
 1«7 
 
 ll 
 
 uei/^liod in the sciiles l!>i» pounds, and was worth about 
 f(U*tv thousand doUai's. IJesi(U's tho *'\Volconio Strangor" 
 was the " Welcome" nugget, found in 1H.')S, and only smaller 
 by six i)ounds than the great golden lump I have already 
 described, while still another, found in 1S."»3, weighed almost 
 \:\'2 })ounds, 
 
 "■ Welcome strangers," indeed, were all these nuggets to 
 the weary and often discouraged miners, lint those discov- 
 eries were made in the golden age of Australian gold min- 
 ing. A friend of mine who lived in I5allarat during this 
 golden age, tells me that freciuently, when a boy, lie has 
 i)orrowed tho nnuhlv l)oots of the miners after their return 
 fi'om a day's work in the alluvial gold iields, for the sake of 
 scraping the mud off their dirty brogans ; and that he has 
 frecjueiitly scraped live shillings worth of gold from a single 
 pair of boots. 
 
 lie was an honest, truthful man, moreover, who told me 
 this story, and lie Avould not be guilty of presuming on tho 
 gullibility of a credulous Yankee. So my readers may 
 accept his astounding story as absolute truth. 
 
 IJut to return to the Queensland gold fields. The 
 romance of the Morgan mine eclipses all the rest. In 1858, 
 a young squatter bought from the government a section of 
 *>4o acres near Rockliam})ton. When he came to "squat," 
 iiowever, he found that his selection was a barren, rocky hill, 
 and that it Avas quite useless for agricultural ])urposes. So 
 lie thought himself very luckv Avhen he found three l)rotliers 
 named Morgan, Avho would take his un])rofitable purchase 
 off his hands lor about three thousand dollars. Hugging his 
 precious three thousand dollars, he left that ])art of tho coun- 
 try forever, shaking its unproductive dust from his feet. 
 
 But the Morgan brothers found, that though they could 
 not raise cabbages among the dirty gray rocks of their new 
 
 i 
 
Il 
 
 1 'A 
 
 I >l 1 n 
 
 128 
 
 A rAHC'HEU AND HOWLING WILDERNESS. 
 
 ])ur(;liiiso, tli«'V could get out of them Hoim.'tliiiig vastly more 
 valuable, for in ovcry cart load of tho rock there was more 
 than one lumdivd dollars' worth of gold ; in fact, they found 
 that they had on their hands the richest gold mine ever dis- 
 covered in the iiistory of the world. 
 
 A year or two after this the hill was sold for forty mil- 
 lions of dollars, and already dividends to the amount of 
 nearly fifty millions of dollars have been paid by the Mor- 
 gan mine, and still there are "millions in it." 
 
 But to skip from shore to sea again. As tho 'C/iiiujtif 
 makes lier slow and tortuous way along tho coast, avoiding 
 sunken reefs, dodging islands, and threading intricate pas- 
 sages, we see very littlo of human life except that which our 
 polyglot and cosmopolitan passenger list contains. For hun- 
 dreds of miles there is no white settlement, only a parched 
 and howling wilderness, into which it is not safe for a white 
 man to penetrate unless with a strong guard. Here and 
 there a bush-iire shows us the location of a native encami)- 
 ment, and once wo descried on tho water horizon a black 
 speck which seemed to be moving nearer. Anything 
 unusual at sea attracts attention, and it was not long before 
 half a dozen opera glasses were trained upon tho sjjot. The 
 speck soon resolved itself into a native canoe, and the canoe 
 was seen to contain four naked blacks. Tlieir craft was 
 simi)ly a hollowed-out log pointed at tho ends, with a long 
 outrider which prevented it from rolling over as it certainly 
 would have done otherwise. As the blacks came nearer, we 
 saw that they were bearing down upon our ship and pad- 
 dling Avitli all their might. When they got within ear shot 
 they all lifted up their voices and cried : " backy," " backy," 
 " backy " (tobacco). 
 
 But the Chingtu majestically kept on her way. The pit- 
 iful cry, " backy," " backy," " backy," became fainter and 
 
THE CONyUEUING AN0L0-8AXUN. 
 
 Vid 
 
 fainter, the lo;; caiioo faded into a speck a^ain, and the speck 
 vanishiul altogetiier. 
 
 Wiiat a perfect type, I said to myself, of the vanishing 
 hushnien in the presence of the majestic white race. What 
 
 •'UACKY," "BACKY." 
 
 tiie feeble little dug-out is to the full-powered ocean steamer, 
 so is the remnant of this aboriginal nation to the all-conquer- 
 ing whites. As the Chingta contemptuously leaves the 
 canoe in the distance without even slackening speed to listen 
 to the appeal of its occupants, so the contemptuous English- 
 s])eaking races in all parts of the world leave their colored 
 Iji'cthren behind or spurn them from their presence. As 
 '' backy " was the cne corrupted English Avord which these 
 black fellows seemed to know, so the vices of the dominant 
 race first become known and assimilated. As the canoe van- 
 ished into the hazy distance while the Chlngtu held strongly 
 on her appointed cruise, so the black races are disappearing, 
 
 ■■!■ 
 
 
130 
 
 THROUOH ALIL\NY PASS. 
 
 (Iiiir 
 
 ? 
 
 while the Anglo-Saxons keep steadily on their way, conquer- 
 ing anil to conquer. 
 
 Jiut while wo are musing about these black fellows, the 
 Chinytu has been ])lowing her serpentine way along the 
 much-indented coast of this huge colony. 
 
 AV^e have left the sandy reach where (/aj)t. Cook nu)re 
 than a hundred years ago beached his famous ship, the 
 Eudi'xwor, which had been sadly disabled in ti'vin<>- to ilnd 
 an entrance through the J>arrier Keef ; we have steamed i'oi' 
 a whole week since leaving Brisbane, along these unending 
 shores ; and now, just seven days from the start, the (Jlnnijiii 
 cleaves her way through Albany I'ass, a narrow strait 
 between two verdure-clad islands, at the very tip eiul of 
 Northern Austi'alia. 
 
 On either hand as we went thi'ough Albany Pass, we 
 saw hundreds of curious red mounds, which at lirst we took 
 for decaying tree stumps, so regular and symmetrical were 
 they. But on examinihg them more closely through our 
 glasses we found that they were white ant hills, and a nu)st 
 singular a})})earance they gave the land, as though it had 
 been hastily cleared by settlers Avho had left the stumps 
 about four feet high to rot away at their leisure. 
 
 Soon after ])assing through Albany strait, the gaunt, 
 spectral yards of a four-nuisted, sijuare-rigged ship ap})eai'ed 
 on the horizon, fixed and motionless as they have been for 
 five years past, ever since the good ship Vohja struck on the 
 coral reef and sunk in a few fathoms of Avater, leaving her 
 yards and masts above the waves, a sad monument to the 
 power of the unseen foe beneath. 
 
 Then a few more hours of sailing and we drop anchor in 
 the roadstead of Thursday Island at the northern extremity 
 of Caj)e York, and at this safe anchorage, the first part of 
 the cruise of the Chiuytii has come to an end. 
 
CHAI'TKR VII. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF TIIK r7/A\Y,' 77/^^ — CONTINUED, 
 
 All tlie Days of the AVcck — A Convenient Nomenclature — A I)i(!t of Seii 
 Worms — Trade in H!oo<isu(kers — Hcminiscences of My IJoyiiood — A 
 Hideous Delicacy — Tiie I'earl Fisiicry — Plums in the I'udding — The 
 Pearl Diver's E(nnpment — A Wiiort but not u Merry Life — A Haking 
 Day and Steamy Ni.s^ht — The Ahorijrines— In the Celebes Sea — Tiiu 
 Connecticut of tiie South Sea — The Nutmeg at Home — The Possibili- 
 ties of a Ball of Twine — How the Hride Wore tlie Trousers — Euro- 
 l)ean Clotiies and Civilization — A Snake Story — An Unwelcome 
 Guest— Dislodging his Serpcntship — A Hattle with a Python — Tiie 
 Spicy Hreezes — The Noble Work of the Missionary — How tlu; Cluef 
 Took the Census — At His Wit's End — A Slwewd Hajaii — Some 
 Passengers — Some Members of the Feline Tribe — The Tale of Tor- 
 toise-shell Tommy. 
 
 |IIlIIiSI)AY ISLAND is the only 
 isluiul in tlio littl(3 iirchipdiigo to 
 tlio north ot" Aiisti'jiliii tliiit con- 
 tains any considerable settlement 
 of Enro[)eaiis, but tlie other (hiys 
 of the week are not ne<^lecte<l by 
 any means, for there is Friday 
 Island and Saturday Island, Sun- 
 day Island and Monday Island, 
 iWKP^:-^ to»isi*^-^ Tuesday Island and Wednesday 
 
 [^■^*li^^^T^^ . Island; and the (liitKjta steams 
 
 by neai'ly all of them in goinj^ in 
 
 or out of Thursday Island harbor. 
 
 A convenient method of nomenclature this, which wo 
 
 would commend to geographei's who have lands to name, if 
 
 there renuiin any new lands to be discovered. Then, when 
 
 (i:}l) 
 
132 
 
 NAMING COUNTRIES FROM THE CALENDAR. 
 
 ,r: 
 
 u ■.} 
 
 'vM 
 
 t ' 
 
 >5|: 
 
 ill 
 
 
 the days of the week have been exhausted, they would find 
 an ahnost unfailing source of supply in the days of the 
 month, as, for instance, the " Fifth of November," and the 
 "■ Twentv-third of Julv," and " Januarv Eio-hteenth," 
 
 Then the hours of the day might be resorted to, and wo 
 should read upon our ma])s " Four O'clock Island," and 
 " Midnight Bay," and " Six-thirty Eiver." What a pity 
 this i)icturesque system suggested by Thursday and her sis- 
 ter islands was not thought of before we had disfigured our 
 maps with so many Smith-towns and Brownsvilles and Jones- 
 ports, and Clark counties ! 
 
 Soon the Chingtii is not only anchored, but made doubly 
 secure by being tied up to an old hulk which is anchored in 
 the roadstead for a sort of cargo-receiving ship ; and by the 
 kind thoughtfulness of friends in Sydney, who had "wired" 
 that we were coming, we are taken ashore by the agent of 
 the chief mercantile house of the place, and are shown 
 everything that the resources of Thursday Island have to 
 offer. 
 
 What are the great staple exports of Thursday Island, 
 my readers? If I should give you twenty or a hundred 
 and twenty guesses, you would not solve the conundrum. 
 Not gold or silver, or tin or copper, or wool or mutton, or 
 wheat or corn, or machinery or cotton goods, or sugar or 
 spice, or rice or Yankee notions, but — do you give it up ? 
 Beehe de mer and mother-of-pearl ; or, in other words, sea 
 worms and oyster shells. 
 
 The Beehe de mer is a long, slimy, nasty (in the Ameri- 
 can, not the English, sense of the word) slug, which looks 
 for all the world like an exaggerated leech — the loathsome 
 bloodsucker that used to fasten itself on my legs when I was 
 a small boy and " Avent in swimming," as small boys love to 
 do. But the Chinese consider this hideous slug a great deli- 
 
 m ' 
 
THE PEARL FISHERIES AND DIVERS. 
 
 133 
 
 cacy, and a very large commerce in it has sprung up, for 
 nowhere does it grow so fat and kiscious as on tlie Aus- 
 tralian coast and the adjacent ishmds. 
 
 There are various kinds of Brchc de me/', whicli experts 
 distinguish as white, red, black, etc.; and it brings from 
 $15(1.0(1 to $750.00 a ton. Just now, I believe, the red 
 species of hideousness is most affected by Chinese gour- 
 mands. I saw tons of these slugs dried and baled, and 
 waiting for transportation to the Flowery Kingdom. 
 *■ Dried fish " is the eu})honious but common])lace name by 
 which this article of export is known in Thursday Island, 
 
 But the pearl fishery is, after all, the largest industry, 
 important as is the Beche de iner trade. Three hundred 
 small boats are engaged in the pearl fisheries, and very 
 profitable they often prove to their owners, for not only is 
 there a steady demand for the mother-of-pearl shell, but 
 single perfect pearls are sometimes found worth from $1,000 
 to $3,000 ; so that always there is the excitement of possible 
 sudden wealth connected with this pursuit. 
 
 But the mother-of-pearl is the staple of trade, the pearls 
 themselves being only the plums that are found in the pud- 
 ding at rare intervals. Of these shells there seems to be 
 an inexhaustible supply, and though the three hundred ves- 
 sels engaged in the trade bring almost countless tons to the 
 surface, there are still countless tons to be won from the 
 ocean's depths. 
 
 Our own vessel adds to her cargo more than seventy 
 tons of shells, which Avill eventually reach Birmingham and 
 Sheffield, to be made up into knife-handles and card-cases, 
 inlaid cabinets, and other articles of vertu. 
 
 The pearl diver's equipment is a most ungainly and curi- 
 ous affair, for the shells are found in water many fathoms 
 deep, and the heaviest of woolen clothes are used to protect 
 

 I;? ' 
 
 1:1 ■'■'<■. 
 
 u- 
 
 
 
 fji 
 
 
 
 1 '1 
 
 -•1 
 
 it 
 
 V iR'l] 
 
 
 1: 
 
 134 
 
 ACROSS THE GULP TO PORT DARWIN. 
 
 the (liver from the pressure of the water, Avhile the shoes 
 with leaden soles which he uses to sink him to the bottom 
 weigh fully ten pounds each, and the helmet which he dons 
 weighs as much as both his shoes put together. 
 
 But, even with the best of diving gear and the most ap- 
 proved appliances, the diver's life is short and risky. He 
 seldom is able to follow this pursuit more than five or six 
 years, and no divers reach old age. 
 
 Thursday Island is a place of great expectations rather 
 than of vast performances. Though at present there is 
 only a single row of straggling shops, with a few pleasant 
 bungalows behind them, and a pathetic little "• School of 
 Arts," which contains two pictures, a few dilapidated curios, 
 and a small library, it expects to be a great metropolis one 
 of these days ; and, in fact, has an excellent location as 
 calling ])ort for steamers going to various parts of the world. 
 
 Our cargo of mother-of-pearl is soon safely stowed away 
 in the hold, the Chlngtu weighs anchor again, and we are 
 on our course once more, across the great Gulf of Carpen- 
 taria and the southern portion of the Arafura Sea, about 
 eight hundred miles, as the crow flies, to Port Darwin, the 
 northern capitjil of Xorth Australia. » 
 
 If Thursday Island has its greatness in the future. Port 
 Darwin has had its day in the past. Great dreams were in- 
 dulged in by its inhabitants in early days. A railroad was 
 to connect it with Adelaide across the whole length of the 
 continent of Australia. All European steamers would make 
 it their port, instead of going around the stormy southern 
 coast. Passengers and mails would be transhipped hence to 
 all parts of the world. Its early-discovered gokl niiiu^ 
 would make everybody rich, and Palmerston, situated at the 
 head of the Port, would be one of the great commercial 
 capitals of the world. 
 
A DISCOURAGED RAILROAD. 
 
 130 
 
 But this (Ireiiin has not materialized. The railroad 
 across the continent has not been built nor is it likely to be 
 l)uilt. The only railroad of which Port Darwin boasts is n 
 discouraged sort of an affair, that runs a hundred miles into 
 the interior and then stops, not because it has reached an 
 
 A YOUNG CITIZEN OF PORT DARWIN. 
 
 im))ortant terminus, but because it has not energN'^ to go any 
 further. It cost a frightful amount of money, on which the 
 South Australian people still have to pay interest, for it is 
 a government affair, as all Australian railroads are. The 
 two trains a day have dwindled down to two a week, and it 
 l)ids fair soon to rival the famous " tri-weekly " road, whose 
 president explained the title by saying that he sent a train 
 tlown the line one week and tried to get it back the next. 
 
 The gold mines could not bo worked at a profit by 
 Europeans, and have all fallen into the hands of Chinamen, 
 
130 
 
 BAKED AND BOILED. 
 
 '' 5; 
 
 ^m , «= 
 
 mi 
 
 h 
 
 
 4h 
 
 m^-'' -1 
 
 
 !^ ^ 
 
 pi 
 
 and the five or six thousjind Englishmen and- Australians 
 wlio used to walk the line, broad streets of Palmerston, and 
 live in its pleasant houses, have dwindled to a few hundreds, 
 who grumble at the government and shake their heads 
 
 A NORTH QUEENSLAND ABORIGINAL. 
 
 dismally, saying that Port Darwin's golden opportunity has 
 gone by, never to return. 
 
 If it is always as hot in Port Darwin as on baking 
 day and the steamy night that the Chingtu lay at her 
 wharf, Avhile we were her passengers, I do not wonder that 
 Europeans Avho object to being both baked and boiled m the 
 same twenty -four hours refuse to make it their home. 
 
 The climate, however, seems exactly to suit the Aborigi- 
 nal Australians who are found here in large numbers. Tall 
 
 Jess 
 after 
 birds 
 tliose 
 
w 
 
 SAILING OVER TROPIC SEAS. 
 
 137 
 
 men ■witli long, thin legs, intensely Ijlack skins, and wiry 
 crinkly hair, tall women equally black and equally thin, and 
 al)solutely naked little boys, perclied on their mother's necks 
 or trotting by their mother's side, as happy as boys of a 
 cloudier clime, are seen everywhere; 
 
 A few hours of intensely hot daylight and a long, in- 
 sufferably hot night Avere quite enough of Port Darwin for 
 us, and glad we were to hear the Captain's order the next 
 morning to " cast off tlie bow line " and get under way. 
 
 For the next twenty -three hundred miles the cruise of 
 the Chbujtu is between tropic islands and across tropic seas ; 
 the Arafura and the Banda and the Celebes and the Sulu 
 and tlie China seas, one after the other following each other 
 in (juick succession. 
 
 A most lovely sail it is, and one that would be taken far 
 oftener than it is by pleasure seekers if its joys were known. 
 Scarcely a day of rough weather need be apprehended until 
 the China sea is reached, and a most wonderful series of 
 archipelagos is passed, any one of which might well delay 
 a naturalist or ethnologist for years had he the time to 
 spare. 
 
 Our course at first lies among the Austro-Malayan group 
 whose forests contain many of the typical Eucalyptus trees, 
 and whose birds and insects are nearly allied to those of the 
 great Australian continent Avhich once doubtless extended 
 much further north than it does at present. 
 
 After we get into the Celebes sea we have touched the 
 borders of the Indo-Malayan region where the islands are 
 less affected by the blasting hot wnnds that cross the seas 
 alter sweeping over the Australian deserts, and where the 
 birds and beasts, the trees and flowers, are more allied to 
 those of India. 
 
 Some of these islands are of vast extent. If you should 
 
 'ill; 
 
138 
 
 DUTCH MONOPOLY OF NUTMEGS. 
 
 m 
 
 |;< 
 
 ilii! 
 
 draw a map of Borneo, for instance, you would find that 
 it was not unlike in sha])e the United Kingdom of (ireat 
 Britain and Ireland, but vastly lar<^er, for you could set 
 England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales inside of Borneo, and 
 have a great rim of green trees and verdui'e hundreds of 
 miles wide surrounding that mighty little kingdom. 
 
 New Guinea is })robahly still larger than Borneo, though 
 its irregular coasts and unex})lored territory nuike it difficult 
 to tell to a certainty. 
 
 Many of these islands are under Dutch control, and very 
 good masters on the whole do Dutchmen nudce. It would 
 be difficult to know what the doughty little kingdom behind 
 the dikes would do were it not for these spice islands of the 
 South seas, where it coins gold out of nutmegs and cloves, 
 cinnamon and allspice. 
 
 The island of Banda is the greatest nutmeg region of the 
 world, barring Connecticut, and many years ago the Dutch 
 attempted to secure a monoply of this product by cutting 
 down the nutmeg trees on the other islands where they 
 grew naturally, in order that they might be confined to 
 Banda, Avhere the monopoly could be protected, 
 
 Nutmeg trees are very symmetrical in shape, with bright 
 glossy leaves. They grow to a height of twenty or thirty 
 feet, bearing small yellow flowers. The fruit looks much 
 like a peach in size and color. When it is ripe it splits open 
 and shows a dark brown nut within. Still, we have not got 
 to the nutmeg itself. The fruit is like a nest of Chinese 
 boxes, for within the thin hard shell which is now disclosed 
 is the nutmeg of commerce. 
 
 Towards evening of the third day from Port Darwin we 
 passed between the great islands of Ceram on one side and 
 Bouro on the other. Nestling in the lee of Ceram is the 
 little island of Amboyna, which contains one of the oldest 
 
m 
 
 THE MALAYAN AND THE E'APL'AN. 
 
 i:vj 
 
 European settlements in the South seas. Here the Dutch 
 governor is Lord of all he surveys, and is only disturbed 
 in his solitude by a few vessels that come on their spice- 
 laden errands once or twice a vear. 
 
 The inhabitants of these islands may, in a general way, 
 be divided into two great types, the Malayan and the 
 rai)uan. A rough classification gives the eastern islands to 
 the Papuan races; the western, which lie nearer to China 
 and India, to the Malayan races. The Malay has been 
 described as of "short stature, brown-skinned, straight- 
 haired, beardless, and smooth-bodied. The Pa})uan is taller, 
 is black-skinned, frizzly-haired, branded, and hairy-bodied. 
 The former is broad-faced, has a small nose, and flat eye- 
 brows ; the latter is long-faced, has a large and prominent 
 nose and flat eye-brows. The JVEalay is bashful, cold, un- 
 demonstrative, and quiet; the Papuan is bold, impetuous, 
 excitable, and noisy. The former is grave and seldom 
 laughs ; the latter is joyo\is and laughter-loving — the one 
 conceals his emotions, the other displays them." 
 
 Perhaps this epigrammatic description by one who spent 
 many years among these islands will serve to introduce our 
 neighbors on either side of the Chlmjtu to my readers, 
 better than any words of mine. 
 
 There is little need to describe the clothes of either of 
 these neighbors, for they seldom consult Paris modes or New 
 York tailors. A friend of mine who once lived in New 
 Guinea was consulted by a tailor of London as to whether 
 there would not be a good opening for a man of his craft in 
 that great island. ]\[y friend replied that a ball of twine 
 would afford ample clothing for half a century for all the 
 natives on the island, and he could scarcely encourage the 
 knight of the goose and the shears to remove from the 
 capitol of cockneydom. 
 
't , 
 
 uo 
 
 EXTRAORDINARY HEADOEAR. 
 
 II 
 
 * ■ ' 
 
 ^■■v' 
 
 The story is told of a bridof^n'ooni who was presented on 
 his W('d(lin<;^-day with a pair of European trousers. In the 
 exuberance of Iiis early love, he presented them to his bride, 
 who ap[)eared at the weddin*^ ceremony, heated and per- 
 spiring, with the trousers drawn on as far as possible over 
 her liead, while the legs hung down like two huge, hollow 
 tails, on either side. 
 
 For my part I do not see the necessar}' connection of 
 Euro})ean clothes and European civilization. The nations 
 can be civilized and cliristianized just as (juickly, I believe, 
 while allowed to wear their native costume, a loose piece 
 of cloth tucked about the waist, as when arrayed in " boiled 
 shirts " and swallow-tailed coats. 
 
 The only grotesque and ridiculous natives I have seen, 
 are those who ape European costumes and try to combine in 
 a most laughable way New York and SoutL Sea Island 
 fashions. 
 
 The islands between which "we are continually passing, 
 and whose sides we almost graze at times, abound in bright 
 plunuiged birds, parrots and paroquets, lyre birds and birds 
 of paradise of every imaginable lovely hue. 
 
 Beasts of prey are not very common, though tigers and 
 orang-outangs are found in some of the large islands, and 
 huge crocodiles abound in many of them. Snakes, however, 
 are numerous and venomous, and a sharp lookout must be 
 kept by the traveler, lest that innocent-looking fallen limb, 
 on which he is abcrut to put his foot, proves to be a huge 
 python or boa constrictor. 
 
 A famous naturalist tells a gruesome story about a great 
 snake which he found in the thatciied roof directly over his 
 head one morning as he awoke. He had heard a rustling 
 noise the night before but paid little attention to it. The 
 next morning, however, the cause of the noise was revealed. 
 
 a-i: 
 
 LkL 
 
A SNAKE STORY. 
 
 141 
 
 for, " looking more carefully," he says, " I could see yellow 
 and black marks and thought it must Ik) a tortoise shell put 
 up there out of the way between the ridge-pole and the roof. 
 Continuing to gaze, it suddenly resolvetl itself into a largo 
 snake, compactly coiled up in a knot; and I could detect his 
 head and his bi-ight eyes in the very center of the folds. 
 
 " A python had climbed up one of the posts of the house; 
 liad made his way under the thatch within a yard of my 
 head, and taken up a comfoi-table position in the roof, and I 
 had slept soundly all night, directly under him. 
 
 "I called to my two native 'boys' who were skinning 
 birds below, and sjiid, ' Here's a big snake in the roof; but 
 as soon as I had shown it to them they rushed out of the 
 house and begged me to come out at once, 
 
 "Finding they were too much alarmed to do anything, 
 we called some of the laborers in the plantation, and soon 
 had half-a-dozen men in consultation. One of these said he 
 would get him out, and Avent to work in a business-like way. 
 
 " lie made a strong noose of rattan, and with a long pole 
 ])oked at the snake, which then began slowly to uncoil itself. 
 He then managed to get the noose over its head, and slip- 
 l)ing it well over its body began to drag the animal down. 
 
 " There was a great scuffle as the snake coiled round the 
 chains and ])osts to resist his enemy, but at length the man 
 caught hold of his tail, rushed out of the house so quickly 
 tliat the creature seemed (piite confounded, and tried to 
 strike its head against a tree. He missed it, however, and 
 let go, and the snake g')t imder a dead trunk near by. It 
 was again poked out, and again the man caught hold of its 
 tail, and running away quickly dashed its head with a swing 
 against a tree, and it was then easily killed Avith a hatchet. 
 
 "It was about twelve feet long and very thick, quite 
 capable of swallowing a dog or child." 
 
 
14:> 
 
 WHERE EVERY PROSPECT PLEASES. 
 
 ■i ■' 
 
 I'ut this pvtlioii was only a l)al»y comparctl with another 
 which this sanio veracious naturalist saw a little later, which 
 Avas not loss than twenty IVot lon«^, and fully able to tackle 
 an ox or a horse if it got the cliance. 
 
 It wt)ul(l scarcely be ]H'()|)er to sail through this serpent- 
 infested region without telling at least one snake story, but 
 the above, vouched for l)y the highest authority, will per- 
 haps sutflce. 
 
 After a twenty-four hours' run across a coni})aratively 
 open ])iece of water we passed between the Spanish convict 
 island of ^[andanao on one side, and Basilan on the other. 
 On the other side of this passage we found the oi)eii waters 
 of the Sulu sea awaiting us, and then, coasting U}) the kmg 
 shore of the Philippine islands, we have come at length out 
 into tlie rough waters of the China sea, and are striking 
 across this much-dreaded ])assage to the j)ort of Hong Kong. 
 
 All these islands which we ])ass are famous for their 
 spicy tropical ])ro(lucts. 
 
 "The spicy breezes" blow soft not only over Ceylon's 
 isle, but across Cei'am and Bouro, Banda and Amboyna, 
 Mandanao and Basilan. 
 
 Every ])ros]>ect ])leases and even man is by no means as 
 vile as he was a hundred years ago, for the missionary is 
 abroad in most of these islands, tiie natives have responded 
 most readily to liis kindly touch, and, in many cases, whole 
 islands are Christianized and are occupied In' res})ect;»ble, 
 God-fearing, church-going races. Even the degradation 
 which nsually follows in the wake of commerce has not been 
 entirely able to drag down these sim])le natives to the level 
 of their white conquerors, and the most godless trader who 
 knows what he is talking about can sometimes be found who 
 will acknowledge that tlie missionarv lias transformed manv 
 a barbarous tribe of cannibals into an intelligent })eople, 
 
WHAT CHRISTIANITY HAS DONE. 
 
 ii;{ 
 
 livin<^ in orderly villap's; in pleasant, wiiitewaslicd houses, 
 with flowering vines growing over the eool verandas. 
 Moreover, in sonies places good I'oads and careful cultivation 
 of the soil are found, all due to races that have emerged 
 fi'otn the lowest harbai-isni witiiin the meniorv of living 
 men. 
 
 I Avould like to take some of the shallow worldlings 
 whom I have seen elevate their tip-tilted noses at missions, 
 and whom I have heard sneer at every etTort to make the 
 heathen better, I would like to take them, 1 say, to some 
 of the beautiful, orderly villages of ('elebes, and stop their 
 jirofano lips with a sight of what Christianity actuallyhas 
 done and is doing for these savages. I am doubtful if even 
 this vision would do much good. Such men and women are 
 too densely wra])pe(l up in their impenetrable conceit to be 
 disturbed by facts or figures, or convinced even by that 
 which their own eves miyht observe. Thev would not be- 
 lieve "though one rose from the dead." 
 
 Most of these islands, though nominally under the pro- 
 tection and control of different Eurojjcan powers, to which 
 they are obliged to ])ay some small tribute, are still jn'acti- 
 cally under the power of these native chiefs and ])rinces, some 
 of whose dynasties run back for many generations. 
 
 A good story is told by the naturalist Wallace of the 
 way in which one of these native chiefs took the census of 
 his unsus])ecting subjects. 
 
 It seems that this chief or Rajah relied for his revenues 
 ii|)on the rice tax which each one of his people in all the 
 villages of his domain was supposed to pay into his treasury 
 every year. But he soon became convinced that his under 
 officers were not treating him fairly, and that a good deal of 
 the rice which ought to have found its way into the treasury 
 of the Rajah was stop})ed on the way, either by the Kapala 
 
U4 COMMUNING WITH THE SPIRIT OP THE VOLCANO. 
 
 Kiiiupong, tlio liead man of the village, or by the "VVaidono 
 who is over the district, or by tiie (lustis or head chief, who 
 received the rice from the Waidono. 
 
 Hut the Rajah ccjuld not prove the peculations, because 
 lie did not know how many people there were in his domain, 
 and he could not toll how many peo})le there were unless ho 
 took a census, and lie could not take a census without ])utting 
 all the under otficers on their guard, for they would be sure to 
 make the number t)f people in their districts correspond with 
 the amount of rice which they turned over to His Majesty. 
 So his problem was to take a census without having the 
 peoj)le who Avei'o enumerated know anything about it. 
 
 The })oor llajah was at his wit's end. He smoked and 
 chewed betel nut all day long, and still was no nearer to 
 the desired solution. At length, however, a bright idea 
 struck him. He would go u\) into the great mountain of 
 T onibock that belched out fire and vapor, and consult the 
 cieity of the mountain, for it was in the old days of heathen 
 superstition and heathen worslii[). The awe-struck ])eople 
 followed him part way u}) the volcano, and then they dared 
 to go no further. Hut the llajah })ressed on up into the 
 region of perpetual smoke, and here he stayed for a long*^ 
 while, communing with the Great Spirit of the mountain. 
 
 AVhen his ])eo})le who were waiting about the base of the 
 mountain began to be tlioroughly uneasy about their chief, 
 he a])peared again among them, and told them in solemn 
 tones that the Great S})irit had revealed to him that a time 
 of terrible pestilence was coming, and that the only way to 
 avert the pestilence was to make twelve sacred krisses or 
 daggers, to be sent, in case of need, to the plague-stricken 
 villages. Moreover, these krisses must be of a peculiar kind, 
 made of a great number of needles, each needle represent- 
 ing one man or woman or child in his domain. 
 
THE TELLTALE NEEDLES. 
 
 145 
 
 There must be no mistake, either, in tlie number of 
 needles, for, if tliere was, the krisses would not avail, and 
 the plague could not be averted. 
 
 So the Gusti and the AV^aidonos and the Kapala Kam- 
 pongs went to work very busily to collect in their different 
 villages a needle from every man, woman, and child in all 
 of Lombock, and they were very careful not to make any 
 mistake, for fear the kris Avould not work ])roperly. At 
 length the needles were all collected, and were wekled into 
 l)right, shining daggers before the llajah's own eyes, and 
 then carefully wrap[)eil in silk and laid away for use against 
 the time of pestilence. 
 
 The pestilence did not come, however, but the time of 
 the rice harvest did come; and when only a small quantity 
 of rice was presented by any Gustis, the Rajah mildly re- 
 marked that ''there Avere five thousand needles sent from 
 your ]m)vince, aiul it ought to yiekl far more rice than 
 this." Then the Gustis saul the same thing to his AVaidonos, 
 and the Waidonos repeated the renuirk to the Kapala Kam- 
 ])ongs; and the result was that the following year the llajali 
 had four times as much rice as ever before, and he was able 
 to give all his Avives beautiful earrings, and to buy many 
 more black horses from the whitG-skinned Dutchmen than 
 ever in the past — all by reason of the remarkable interview 
 he had with the Great 8i)irit in the mountain that sent out 
 fh"e and smoke. 
 
 I have spoken already of the hunuin passengers of the 
 Ch'nujtu, — the Chinamen, and Malays, Jews, Christians, and 
 IJushmen. Besides these, we have some dumb passengers 
 who are quite as interesting in their way. Among them a. 
 flock of merino shee[) that were unceremoniously tied to- 
 gether by their four legs and bundled overboard into a 
 lighter at Thursday Island ; a dog Avliose master, the cattle- 
 
140 
 
 OUR DUMB PASSENGERS. 
 
 drover, was taking into the bush to herd sheep and fight 
 the Bhicks. 
 
 ]iiit, poor fellow, he scarcely held up his head after com- 
 ing aboard. A kick or bruise of some kind just before em- 
 barkation had injui'ed him internally. He bore his pain, 
 which was evidently intense, without a whimper or a groan 
 for seven days, and on the eighth day turned his patient, 
 affectionate eyes upon his master with a look of trustful love 
 for the last time — and died. 
 
 " I can't bear to go aft any more where my poor dog 
 lay," said the cattle-drover, and I didn't wonder. 
 
 Besides the dog and sheep, Ave had, at the beginning, sev- 
 eral specimens of the feline tribe. Two or three forlorn 
 little kittens haunted the steerage belonging to the China- 
 men. For two or three days they prowled disconsolately 
 about, evidently aware of the fate that awaited them, and 
 then they mysteriously disappeared, leaving no trace behind. 
 The gastronomic Chinanum could, perhaps, have explained 
 their disappearance, for all is soup that comes to his pot. 
 
 But besides these wretched, woe-begone little kittens, we 
 had on board a magnificent, stately, tortoise-shell cat, as 
 handsome a pussy as ever tr(xl a ship's quarter deck. He 
 would watch the second-class passengers at their meals in a 
 very dignified way, and would even accept a gratuity from 
 their hands in the shape of a savory titbit, once in a while. 
 He would jump through our extended arms, and do every 
 trick that a well-educated pussy is su])posed to know. One 
 evening the northeast monsoon was blowing a stiff gale, and 
 had s])attered u)i the salt spray until every rail was wet and 
 sli})pery. Tommy was unusually frisky. He jumped from 
 spar to hatchway, ran up the rigging, and worked off his 
 high spirits in every way known to a cat. But, alas ! he 
 jumped once too often, for leaping from the hatch to the 
 
A TRAGEDY ON ELECTION DAY, 
 
 147 
 
 guard rail, he lost his balance, clawed for a moment help- 
 lessly at the wet, slippery wooil, and fell off into the engulf- 
 
 ing sea. 
 
 It is hoped that some passing shark cut short his misery, 
 and that he Avas not obliged to struggle for hours with the 
 waves, drowning by inches. 
 
 That day was Election day in the United States. The 
 mighty quadrennial struggle between the two great parties 
 was being decided as the hours went by. To the English- 
 men, Australians, and Chinese, who made up our passenger 
 list, this struggle Avas absolutely uninteresting. Though it 
 affects the lives of nearly seventy millions of people, it did 
 not create as much excitement as the death of a tortoise-shell 
 cat. Such is the relative importance of an event. So de- 
 pendent is it on geography and ethnography. 
 
 Our captain Iiad a vague idea that one or the other of 
 the leading candidates had before been nominated for elec- 
 tion. When I explained that one of the candidates Avas then 
 president, and the other had held that office, he Avas quite 
 amazed, but remarked : " Oh, aa'cII, hit Avont make much 
 liodds, I suppose, they're both proper rascals." 
 
 I resented the imputation against these excellent and 
 honorable men Avith the utmost AA^armth, and yet it is of 
 little use to Avax hot, for the ingrained and unremovable 
 British opinion of American politics is, that all our politicians 
 are rogues and knaves. I scarcely Avonder at this, for the 
 British press does its utmost to foster this impression, and 
 our oAvn sensational journals, Avith their scurrilous attacks 
 on public men, only strengthens the same impression. 
 
 Three days more Avith this gentle monsoon blowing 
 across the Avide China Sea Avill bring us to Hong Kong, and 
 then the cruise of the Chingtu Avill be ended. 
 
CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 rmST GLIMPSES OF THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE. 
 
 Cosmopolitan Hong Kong — The Cabmen of the Orient — A I?idc in a 
 Sedan Chair — Uplifted in Spirit — Sidewalk Shops — Pennsylvania Oil 
 in China — Fairyland under the Lanterns — Incense Olferings to the 
 Gods — Novel Sights and Scenes — Oriental Sharpers — Unblushing 
 Swindlers — Toboggan Sliding — All Aboard for Canton — Justice 
 Swift and Severe — Executions in China — Heads Chopped off with 
 Neatness and Despatch — The River Go<l at the Prow — The Fats/i<tn — 
 River Robbers and Pirates — A Floating Arsenal — The Rice Harvest — 
 Threshing Out the Rice — "Chinaman Makee Glow" — Three Crops in 
 a Season — Water Buffaloes — Christianity and Butter — Up the Pearl 
 River — Junks and Flower Boats, Sampans and Slipper Boats — The 
 High Road of Canton — A Novel Pontoon Bridge — A Family Picture 
 — Cantonese Jade — Off in a Sampan. 
 
 UST as the sun was setting after 
 a gray and turbulent day, the 
 Chingtu reached the outer har- 
 bor of Hong Kong. The waning 
 light held out barely long enough 
 to discover our anchorage ground. 
 What a sight was the first glimpse 
 of life in Asia! On the Hong 
 Kong shore were thousands of 
 twinkling lights, reaching far up 
 the hillside. The magnificent 
 warehouses and residences of the 
 foreign merchants give it the appearance of a modern city, as 
 indeed it is, but, together with this modern and cosmo])olitan 
 air is mingled the antiquity of the far East. On every side 
 
 were Chinese junks, whose style is the same as in the days of 
 
 (148) 
 
ASIATIC SIGHTS AND SOUNDS. 
 
 140 
 
 the Mayfower, of the J*i/it(i, and the jVaia ; the same 
 in fact as when the Roman galleys vexed the waters of 
 the Mediterranean. 
 
 Little boats, too, sampans and still smaller row-boats, 
 swarmed about the C/ihu/tK. As it was now growing 
 dark they were all illumined with Chinese lanterns of every 
 variety of style and slia})e, and yells and cries, and invita- 
 tions from the occupants to take their boat to the shore, 
 reminded us of the vociferous cabbies at the Grand Central 
 Station in New York. But there was little else to remind 
 us of New York. "We had indeed reached the Orient. 
 
 Taking a steam-launch sent out by the Hong Kong 
 Hotel we were soon on shore. Then all the sights and 
 sounds, to say nothing of the smells, reminded us that we 
 were on Asiatic soil. A crowd of jinrikisha and sedan chair 
 men besieged us on every side. A throng of half-naked 
 coolies jabbered and crowded and fought with each other 
 and insisted on being our porters. But, though it required 
 some rough usage on the part of the hotel porters, we at last 
 escaped their clutches and reached the hotel, which is but 
 a few steps from the landing. A European hotel, however, 
 was altogether too commonplace an affair to engage our 
 attention for any leii ,tli of time, and after Ave had taken 
 a hasty dinner we were soon upon the street again. 
 
 Will vou not go out with us Avhile Ave view these unac- 
 customed sights ? 
 
 Now again as Ave step out of the liotel door, there is a 
 great hubbub and hullaballoo, for scores of chair-men and 
 jinrikisha-men rush upon us as their right and hiAvful prey. 
 Let us take a chair this evening since it is more in accord- 
 ance Avitli the genius of the country. The jinrikisha is a 
 Japanese institution and a A^ery recent importation into 
 China, and AA-e Avill patronize home industries. 
 
 ¥■ 
 
 i^ 
 
"^ 
 
 ;« ;:! 
 
 f», fi 
 
 lit. " '^ 
 
 150 
 
 THE BURDEN BEARERS. 
 
 80, Avitli muiiy polite '••esturos and o'onufloctions on the 
 ])iu't of our bearers, wc crawl into one of the little l)oxes. 
 take our seats, and are immediately hoisted uj)on the 
 shoulders of three stalwart coolies, two in front and <jne be- 
 hind. The skin on their accustomed necks is hardened and 
 calloused by nniny such loads which they have borne, and at 
 first a feeling of great compassion and pity for them arises 
 in our hearts, as though Ave were treating human beings as 
 Ave Avould treat a horse or an ox. We almost feel as though 
 we ought to step down from our exalted position and apolo- 
 gize to the bearers for loading them doAvn as Ave Avould 
 '' dumb, driven cattle." But, after all, the sensible traveler 
 reasons Avith himself, this is an honorable and reputable Avay 
 of earning a living. Xo opprobrium or disgrace attaches to 
 the palanquin-man. He would bear the people of his own 
 race and station in society as quickly as he Avould bear the 
 Emperor, and Avould liaA^e no sense of degradation. It 
 aifords a great multitude, Avho perhai)s Avould otherAvise 
 starve, an excellent living. So Ave Avill dismiss our scruples 
 and enjoy the novel sights around us. 
 
 Then, perhaps, so sharp are the revulsions of feeling in 
 weak liuman nature, one -begins to have a Avealthy and 
 lordly feeling, as though he Avere being borne through the 
 streets on the shoulders of an admiring crowd because of 
 some great achievement. However, the throngs are not 
 very demonstrative in their adnliration, for they take no 
 more notice of you than a New York crowd Avould take of a 
 Broadway street-car. In fact, Ave who are perched up in 
 these chairs are far more interested in the croAvds beneath 
 than they are in us, for foreigners are no novelty in Hong 
 Kong. 
 
 Let us go down to the Chinese quarter and get out of 
 this humdrum Euroi)ean life as soon as ])ossible. It does 
 
OUT-OF-DOOR AVOCATIONS. 
 
 151 
 
 f 
 
 not take us lon<^ to do this, for there ure only eight thou- 
 sand foreigners in tlie city and some two luindred thousand 
 natives. Everytlung is of interest to our unaccustomed eyes. 
 But we must record our imi)ressions (quickly before custom 
 (hills the edge of amazement, or it will seem as though we 
 
 A CIIINKRK FOnOE. 
 
 had always lived in the midst of these sights, and shall not 
 be able to describe them with any vividness to our friends at 
 home. 
 
 The first thing that sti'ikes us as strange is, tuat every- 
 thing is done out-of-doors. The shoemaker cobbles his 
 shoes ; the fish merchant peddles his lish ; the cabinet-nudvcr 
 lits together his chest of drawers; the tailor shoves his 
 needle; the carpenter draws his ]ilane (toward himself in 
 genuine Chinese style), but all upon the sidewalk as it 
 soems. There are, to be sure, small recesses which are 
 
 10 
 
 i-i' 
 
15-> 
 
 LANTERNS AND INCENSE. 
 
 "f : 
 
 called stores and slioj)s, but they are very diminutive and 
 scarcely seem necessary to the carryin<j on of business. 
 
 Over every shop door hangs a ])ai)er lantern, some of 
 them huge affairs as big as small balloons, others more mod- 
 est in size, while here and there one sees a vulgar kerosene 
 lamp. It is said that the oil wells of Pennsylvania are driv- 
 ing the old-fashioned lanterns out of the market. All who 
 desire picturesqueness of effect will certainly regret this, for 
 there is nothing Avhicli gives the streets such a charming, 
 fairy-like effect as the Chinese lanterns, painted in every hue 
 of the rainbow, and twisted into every conceivable shape. 
 
 Not only has every shop its lantern, but every shop has 
 its shrine as well, and the smell of burning incense pervades 
 the air wherever we go. This is rather fortunate, i)erhaps, 
 for it obscures certain other odors which are not so pleasant. 
 If you look closely, even in the darkness of this first even- 
 ing's ride, j'ou will see a stick of incense burning beside 
 every doorway, the little spot of fire at the end glowing like 
 a tiny jewel in the night. These are all offered to the gods 
 of prosperity and good luck in the hope that the business 
 ventures carried on within will turn out successfully. 
 
 But after all, novel as are the sights about Ilong Kong, 
 it is one of the least interesting cities, in many respects, in 
 all China. It is too much Europeanized to afford a true idea 
 of the way in wdiich the natives live and conduct their busi- 
 ness. It has all the vices of a city in the far East, and not 
 all its virtues by any means. Ever^^thing is frightfully dear 
 at the European stores, and in this free-trade possession of 
 Great Britain, the shop-keepers will unblushingly charge you 
 four or five times as much as an article is worth anywhere 
 else. The hotel-keepers will fleece you out of your last 
 dollar if they can. Photographers will charge you as much 
 for a single picture as would buy a dozen better ones in 
 
ASCENT OP VICTORIA PEAK. 
 
 153 
 
 Japan ; and your morning ])a])er, wliicli will cost you ten 
 cents, will not contain a farthing's worth of ncAvs. Nothing 
 more barren and meager and utterly uninteresting than the 
 Ilong Kong newspaper has it been my lot to find in any 
 part of the civilized or uncivilized Avorld. Society is decid- 
 edly " fast," as in all such foreign settlements, and were it not 
 for the saving salt of missionary life and influence, I am told 
 by those who know, Ilong Kong, and Yokohama in Japan, 
 and other such treaty ports, might easily out-rank Sodom 
 and Gomorrah and the Cities of the Plain. 
 
 There is one place, however, which we must visit before 
 leaving Ilong Kong for the far more interesting city of 
 Canton, and that is Victoria Peak, which towers up for a 
 thousand feet or more directly behind the city. This is a 
 beautiful, conical mountain, exceedingly steep and precipi- 
 tous, but the way up has been made easy by a cog-Avheel 
 railroad, which affords, certainly, the most abrupt climb 
 with which I am acquainted. Far steeper than the Rigi or 
 the Mt. Washington railroad or Pike's Peak is the railroad 
 that climbs Victoria Peak. Nervous women sometimes 
 grow quite hysterical as the train begins to move up an 
 incline steeper than the roof of a house. But the railway is 
 managed with great skill and with every precaution to insure 
 safety, and there has never been here any loss of life, so far 
 as I know. 
 
 As one climbs this famous mountain, a magnificent pano- 
 rama unfolds before him, of city and sea, of embracing 
 mountains and yet higher distant peaks. Every view is a 
 little more entrancing than the last, until one stands at the 
 very summit. Then, on every hand, is a landscape which 
 one can expect to see but seldom in a lifetime. Such a vast 
 and stupendous combination of ocean and mountain is almost 
 worth a stormy journey across the Pacific to behold. 
 
154 
 
 BY BOAT TO CANTON. 
 
 'i|:i 
 
 We liave readied the spot near the toj) where the rail- 
 road stops, and where oui" foot-journey begins, unless we 
 choose to take a sedan-chair, which, for thirty cents, will 
 carry us to the to])nH)st ])oint. We refused, however, to he 
 borne up this uiagnillcent mountain in any sucli ignominious 
 way. The chair is all very well for level ground, or for get- 
 ting through the crowded streets; but the true mountain 
 climber would feel ashamed of himself to be borne aloft on 
 men's shoulders uj) these rugged ])ati)s as long as ho has two 
 good legs to carry him. The road, though very steej), is 
 well made, and affords so many ex(piisite views from every 
 angle and turn of the twenty nunutes' climb to the })eak 
 that it is a continual delight. 
 
 But the wind is blowing shrewdly from the top, and Ave 
 do not linger long, even tliougli the view is entrancing ; but 
 soon descend, take the train once more, and in eight min- 
 utes slip down this tremendous toboggan-slide on to level 
 ground again. 
 
 To-morrow morning we will take the river-boat for Can- 
 ton, a journey of about one hundred miles, and one which 
 affords us vast delight. The steamers on the Pearl River 
 are excellent side-wheel boats, not unlike the best river-boats 
 in America, officered by Euro])eans, though manned by 
 Chinese crews. There are some things about them, how- 
 ever, which would remind us that we are still in China. At 
 the prow is a large image which I took for a iigure-head, but 
 Avas soon informed that it Avas the river-god, who must be 
 propitiated eA-en by this modern steamshii) company ; so 
 they had placed his obese figure in a little shrine at the 
 A'^ery proAV of the Fatshan. 
 
 Looking Avithin the cabin, too, we see a stack of rifles, 
 and are assured by the Captain that they are necessary in 
 case the boat should be attacked by the river pirates — a not 
 
 SkiS^ 
 
FLOATIN(} ARSENALS. 
 
 155 
 
 inconceivable iiTipossil)ility. A few months af^o one of tlieso 
 stoauKM's was captured by a swarm of tliese robbers, wlio 
 had come alioard as second-chiss j)asscn<^('i's. Th(; otHccrs 
 were overpowered, and th(! pass:en<^(M's wei'e shut up in a 
 tiylit atid close cabin, where they barely had air enough to 
 
 A CIIINESK KXKCITION. 
 (From an iiis/unlaneoiis p/io/af/ta/ih.) 
 
 keep them alive, while their pocketbooks were rifled and the 
 steamer plundered by these systematic knaves of every pos- 
 sible thing of value. Then they took themselves off, mak- 
 ing sure that thev should not be ]iursued until thev had 
 gotten well out of the way. Chinese passengers are not 
 now allowed in the first cabin, and every steamer goes well 
 armed with a small arsenal of modern weapons. 
 
 '4 
 
 i . 
 
i: 
 
 
 15(1 
 
 CHINESE EXECUTION. 
 
 Swift justice is dealt out to Chinese criminals, antl only 
 a siioit time elapses after sentence before the head of the 
 condemned persoti is severed from the bodv by a single 
 stroke of the ex(>cutioner's keen sword. 
 
 Prisoners under sentence of death wear bamboo yokes 
 when they arc; taken to the ])laco of execution. The head 
 
 - 2. ~ 
 
 V% ' i'\\ 
 
 \U r .1 I 
 
 PLACINU TlIK HKAD OK AN F.XECUTEU ClilMINAL IN A 1JA8KKT. 
 
 (Frmn an inslantamous photoymph .) 
 
 of the prisoner is placed between two rigid bamboo bars, 
 one in front and the other at the back of the neck, while 
 two shorter bars rest across the shoulders and fasten the 
 long side bars together. The headsman accompanies the 
 procession to the field of execution, holding hk'. blade aloft, 
 followed by a crowd of spectators. The execution is public, 
 and generally takes place in an open field accessible to all. 
 
 
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 11 
 
UP THE I'KARI, RIVER. 
 
 159 
 
 Tlio pi'isoiu'i" knoels, heiuls forward a trille, bows his head, 
 and in an instant till is ovoi*. 
 
 Tiio sail u[) tho river is a most interestiii<^- one, I'ollowinf^ 
 the windings of the great sti'eani, wliich sometimes broadens 
 out into a lalvc nuUis ui)on miles in extent, and sometimes 
 
 tool, IKS ]'UMl'IN(i WATKIl KOH ItICK KIKLDS. 
 
 narrows again with frowning |)eaks clos(i overhead. Every- 
 where are the s\\'jirming villages — thirty thousand, 1 am 
 told, in a singh^ province — each one occupied by from one 
 to ten thousand people. 
 
 The !'ice croj) was just being cut as wo sailed up this 
 noble river, and down to tlu; very vei'ge hung the riptMied 
 grain on heavy stalks. This was the second crop of tho 
 
 I 'i 
 
 4: 
 
 • 
 
' lUO 
 
 PKIMITIVE METHOD OF HARVESTING. 
 
 » ,' ' 
 
 Hi. 
 
 
 I'll it!' 
 
 •r'l 
 
 ' year, and laborers, men and women, were busy everywlu'i'e 
 iuirvesting- it — just as for three thousand years past, per- 
 haps, their ancestors had luirvested a siniihir crop. After 
 cutting the rice-straw near the gi'ound with a small sickle 
 ■ and piling it in heaps, they grasp a good-sized handful of 
 the grain and thresh out the rice by the sim})le process of 
 beating the heads over the edge of a stone or a piece of 
 board armed with iron teeth. A little screen keeps the rice 
 from flying far in any direction, and on both sides we 
 could see hundreds of these little screens and these ])rimitive 
 harvesters gathering the great staple crop of China. 
 
 Wonderful gardeners are these Cantonese in any part of 
 the world. Whether in America or Australia, the Sandwich 
 Islands or on their own native heath, they can coax the 
 ground to yield to them what she would never give U]) 
 to the more civilized races, Avho, perhaps, hjok down on 
 them as ignorant barbai'ians. Even in tropical Australia, in 
 the dryest of the dry seasons, they can make things grow if 
 only water can be had with which to drench the soil. " Me 
 no likee lain," said a Chinaman to me ; " lainey time anyone 
 laise things ; dly time only Chinaman makee glow." 
 
 But here along the banks of the great river they find 
 not only ])lenty of water, but a most fertile soil, and any 
 Chinaman who does not get at least three crops oif of every 
 inch of land which he possesses is thoroughly ashamed of 
 liimself. Two crops of rice and one of vegetables is the 
 regulation thing, while some farmers force even four cro})s 
 every year from the same piece of ground. 
 
 Another intei'esting feature of the landscape is the huge 
 water-butfaloes which love to wallow along the banks of the 
 river. Tliev look more like the rhinoceros than like the 
 buffalo of our plains, with thick welts of hairy skin hanging 
 on their sides and legs. However, they are a very useful 
 
It- 
 
 AT THE WHARF IN CANTON. 
 
 IGl 
 
 h 
 
 aniniiil, tliouf^li rather liidtM^us in appearance. They are 
 em))loyed in plowing- and working the rice fields, and afford 
 an excellent milk which is nsed by the foreign residents ot 
 Canton and vicinity, where there are no cows. The Chinese 
 themselves, however, after they arc weaned, have no use for 
 food of this sort, and look u]>on the rest of us, I suppose, as 
 ])oor "milk-sops" for demanding it on our tables morning, 
 noon, and night. 
 
 Nor can thev understand how we find it difficult to 
 exist without butter jind cheese. A recently converted 
 Chinaman, exphiining to his neighbors the joys of Christian- 
 ity, said to them, " Now Christianity is not like butter, for 
 you have to learn to like that before you can eat it. It is 
 horrid tasting stuff when you first try it, and you can only 
 endure it after a good many efforts. But Christianity is 
 something that you do not have to learn to like. It is just 
 as good the first time you taste it as it is the last." A good 
 hint here for public speakers to adapt their illustrations to 
 the people who listen to them. 
 
 But all this time we are sailing up the great Pearl river, 
 with its interminaljle rice fields and its clustering villages 
 nestling behind them at the base of the mountains. 
 
 At last the Fatiahan reaches her wharf in Canton, and 
 we find ourselves at once in one of the strangest and most 
 remarkable cities on the face of the earth. Around us are 
 swarming junks and flower-boats, sami)ans and sli{)per-boats 
 of all sizes, as thickly as their struggling owners can crowd 
 a1)out the Fatf<Jian. 
 
 They row and pole, and hook on to their neighbors and 
 grab our steamer's chains in their mad and eager scramble 
 to get some passengers or freight for other parts of the city; 
 for this great river is the lil'^li road for all Canton. Fully 
 seventy-five thousand people live in these boats on the river 
 
tl>' 
 
 1(,2 
 
 HOME LIFE ON A SAMPAN. 
 
 at Canton alone all the year round. The number is usually 
 put much higher, but 1 am assuretl that this is a very mod- 
 erate estinuite. 
 
 As the steamer is being tied up to her dock let us peer 
 over into one of these little boats that is struggling to get 
 near us. It is like a thousand others that are wedged 
 so closely together that one could easily walk for miles over 
 their little roofed decks without getting his feet wet. It 
 seems like a continuous pontoon bridge, though none of the 
 boats are tied together, and all are strugghng to move in 
 some direction and for some ])urpose. 
 
 But look down into this particular sampan Avhich we 
 have chosen to interview. A brawny woman wields a long, 
 heavy oar in front. She is evidently captain, first officer, 
 and cook, as well as chief engineer of the little craft. On 
 her back is straj)pe(l a baby whose little head bobs ami 
 swavs with everv motion that its mother makes in scullinij: 
 the boat. The handle of the huge sweep which she uses just 
 escapes the top of his bald little head. Her glossy black 
 hair is done up Avith great skill and neatness into the shape 
 of a "tea-pot handle," as a little boy by my side declares. 
 Through this tea-pot handle is stuck a green jade pin, and in 
 both ears are h;igo jade eai'rings. Xo woman in Canton 
 seems too poor to afford these precious jewels. Of all the 
 thousands of Avomen of high grade and low Avhoin I have 
 seen in Canton, I scarcelv remember one Avithout the na- 
 tional jade ornaments. 
 
 On the stern of this little craft are four children, one boy 
 of eight years of age, Avho, manly little fellow that he is, 
 assists his mother with an oar three times as long as him- 
 self. Another boy of four is feeding with kernels of rice 
 some chickens which are tied by the leg to one side of the 
 boat. Still another little olive branch that can just toddle. 
 
3i 
 
 CLOSE QUARTERS. 
 
 1(53 
 
 and is ])ossibly two years old, is tied by a string to the roof 
 of the deck, which allows him to g-o to the very ed<rG of the 
 boat, but insures his being pulled in if he should happen to 
 fall overboard. In the stern of the boat also are all the 
 culinary arrangements for the family ; all the pots and 
 kettles and crockery ware and chop-sticks that are needed 
 for a family of six. Bohintl the kitchen is the shrine, and as 
 the door is open we can get a ])eep within at tlie gilded god, 
 who is sitting complacently on his haunches, while two 
 sticks of incense are burning before him. 
 
 In the center of the boat, covered Avith a low roof, are 
 seats on two sides for five or six [)assengers, for it is the bus- 
 iness of this family, while the husband is at work on shore, 
 to get all the passengers it can and to eke out their living in 
 this way. I must fall back on a general reputation which I 
 trust I have for sobriety and truthfulness when I tell you 
 that this boat by actual measurement is only fourteen feet 
 long and four feet wide in the widest part. Even this 
 sampan is larger than many others which crowd about our 
 steamer's sitle, but it looks so clean and ro(jmy, the children 
 look so good natured, and the mother smiles so pleasantly, 
 that we will take this boat and give the woman ten cents (a 
 liberal sum) to take us to our friends some two miles up the 
 river. 
 
 I 
 
 SiMm^ 
 

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 bi 
 
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 li 
 
 CIIAPTEIl IX. 
 
 IN CANTON TIIK CUOWDED — CHINA AND TFTE CHINESE. 
 — CUHIOUS SCENES AMONG A CURIOUS PEOPLE — IN 
 THE TEMPLE OF HOlM^OHS. 
 
 All ('mil, Jr. — A Courti-ous niid Faitlit'til Guide — Aimless Wandering — 
 The nirthday of the Fire God — Turniiij^ out for a Sedan clmir — Close 
 Quarters — A City of Temples — Streets with Odd Xames — "Lon- 
 gevity Lane " — " Heavenly Peace Street " — A Changing I'anorama — 
 Outrageous Odors — A Pestilential Plaee without Pestilence — A Puz- 
 zle for our Doctors — People who Never Heard of a I'iuinber — The 
 Live Fish Market — Candy Stands — How Much can you J>uy for a 
 Cash? — Going to Market in Corea — A Royal Present — Juvenile 
 Curiosity — That Little "Foreign Devil" — The Cat and Dog Meat 
 StoH! — The Original of the Willow Pattern — The Five Hundred 
 IJuddhi.sts — Worshiping tin; Gods of Good Luck and Prosjierity — 
 Business-like Methods of Worship — The Temple of Horrors — A 
 Necklace of Teeth — Souk; of the Tortures — Sawing a Mnn in Two — 
 Boiled in Oil — Punishments of the Buddhist Hell. 
 
 ,E were exceeding fortuntito, on our 
 arrival at Canton, in finding the 
 l)est guide it has ever been our 
 good fortune to secure. ^Ir. Ah 
 Cum, Jr., deserves to have his 
 name ein])almed in history. Just 
 before our visit a famous Ameri- 
 can traveler had visited the same 
 citv, and lie wrote in the guide's 
 book, (I ht Isaac "Walton : " Doubt- 
 less God coidd make a better 
 guide than Ah Cum, Jr., but 
 doubtless he never did." "VVe feel like endorsing this com- 
 mendation to the fullest extent after spending a few hours 
 in Ah Cum's society. lie not only knew everything in 
 Canton, but could speak intelligent English to explain to us 
 
 (IGl) 
 
'II 
 
 1' 
 
 AN ENDLESS ARCADE. 
 
 1G5 
 
 Avluit we saw. He knew how to kee]> the land sharks who 
 sua]) at every innocent traveler away from us, and though 
 he tloubtless piloted us to stores which i)aid him a good 
 commission, he would not let us })ay more than twice what 
 a thing was worth, even to his friends. 
 
 As we take this journey through Canton's crowded 
 streets, the three pilgrims require sedan chairs, with another 
 one for Ah Cum, Jr. ; but in the train of this short proces- 
 sion we can take a hundred thousand of you just as well, 
 without crowding anvone. At first we sav to Ah Cum 
 that we do not wish to go anywhere m particular ; " just 
 take us through the streets ; let us see how the people live, 
 how they buy and sell and get gain ; let us see how they 
 pound their meal, and sell their fish, and make their shoes, 
 and shave their heads, and paint their pictures, and do their 
 ivory work, and fashion their jewelry, and turn out their 
 ])ottery." It is not necessary to stop and go inside of any 
 building to see all of these things, for, as in all Chinese 
 cities, these handicrafts are carried on in shops out of which 
 the front has been com])letely taken. Tliei'e is a rear wall 
 to these shops and two side walls, but no front wall in 
 the daytime ; and passing through the streets of Canton 
 seems like going through a never-ending arcade. The streets 
 are so narrow and so covered overhead with awnings and 
 immense signs that one can scarcely realize that he is in 
 the open air. The dim light streams down from above, mel- 
 lowing and tempering even the most hideous things, while 
 the gay costumes and fabrics, and gold-lettered signs, give a 
 holiday air to v whole city. 
 
 Moreover, it is the birthday of the Fire God Avhen we 
 chance to go through the city, and the people are celebrat- 
 ing his nativity with an unceasing fusilade of firecrackers. 
 "Whole bunches of the snappiest kind of crackers are thrown 
 
IGO 
 
 CIVIL EN(iINEERINO. 
 
 lil 
 
 recklessly into the streets under tlie very feet of our coolie 
 bearers, which make them dance and caper, though they 
 take it all very good-naturedly. Each of us on this journey 
 has three bearers, two in front and one behind ; and the 
 streets are so narrow that it is with the greatest difficulty 
 that two chairs can pass each other. Indeed, when two 
 chairs a])proach from opposite directions a catastrophe seems 
 unavoidal)le, but somehow or other it is always avoided. 
 The })eo})le flatten themselves against the Avails on either 
 side, taking up as few cubical inches as possible ; and at 
 length, oftentimes with a good deal of turning and twisting 
 and engineering, the chairs commg from opposite directions 
 ])ass one another. 
 
 Canton contains about one million people, so conservative 
 writers say, though the number is i)laced by numy at a far 
 larger figure. As the more accurate censu:= of later years 
 is taken, the population of China is dwindling somewhat, 
 and the enormous figures that were believed by our fore- 
 fathers are scarcely borne out by the enumerators. Peking 
 is not so enormously large as has been supposed, while 
 Canton, which used to be said in many quarters to have 
 two millions of inhabitants, is found to have only about 
 one million. However, this is quite enough for the area 
 that is inhabited. 
 
 If ever people were packed together like sardines in a 
 box, or peas in a pod, it is in this same city of Canton. 
 ]^o superfluous room, as I have said, is taken up by the 
 streets, and this city which, if it Avas spread out like 
 "Washington or ]\Ielbourne, or even New York, would re- 
 quire a wall something like one hundred miles in length, 
 is encom])assed by a wall less than six miles in circuit. 
 This Avall was built in the eleventh century, and was 
 finished as it now stands more than five hundred years 
 
^irt\\ 
 
 A CURIOUSLY CHAN(JING PANORAMA. 
 
 k;: 
 
 ago. In it are sixteen gates, besides two water gates. 
 Canton became a port of foreign coniniorce more tlian a 
 thousand years ago, but it was not until 1(!37 that a fleet 
 of P^nglish vessels entered the river. Since then the trade 
 has largely been in the hands of the English, who seem, 
 in whatever ])art of the world they go, to get their full 
 siuire of the ffood thinij^s of this life. 
 
 There are 125 temples in the city of Canton, and every 
 little shoj) has its altar, before Avhich the daily incense is 
 burned. I am told that more is spent for incense and 
 candles at these altars than is given for foreign missions for 
 the whole world by the great Congregational and Presby- 
 terian boards of the United States. 
 
 Some of the streets through which we pass have odd 
 names ; for instance, one of them is " Longevity Lane " ; 
 another, " Heavenly Peace street,'' while '' High street " and 
 '' Market street " sound verv familiar. I wish in our own 
 country we might have more streets of " Benevolence and 
 Love." AV^e will at least pass through this street in Canton, 
 even though it belies its names. 
 
 We shall never get accustomed to this constantly chang- 
 ing panorama ; these odd people ; these queer costumes ; 
 these strange sights ; these outrageous odors ! Cologne 
 itself, with all its seventy smells, cannot for a moment 
 comjiare with Canton. 
 
 It is a "wonder that the })eople are not exterminated by 
 ty])hoid fever and diphtheria. There is no drainage to 
 .s})eak of, and Avhat little there is lies immediately below the 
 flagstones over which Ave pass, and is very rarely, if ever, 
 flushed by running Avater. Strange to say, hoAvever, Ave are 
 told that the rate of mortality is not especially high in Can- 
 ton ; that there are many old people in the city and that it is 
 not often visited by any sweeping pestilence. "What Avili 
 
108 
 
 IGNORANT OF DRAINS AND CUT-OFFS. 
 
 our doctors and sanitary cn^inoors and |>lninl)crs, who muko 
 life niisorable for the lioiisehohlor. sav to tiiisj 
 
 If over Avo have a little scarlet rash in the house among 
 the cliiidi'on, or if the tloctor can discover a white patch in 
 our throats, he at once declares that tiie plumbing is out of 
 ordei" and the Health Department comjx'ls us to rip up the 
 Hoors and discover the cause of the affliction in some hidden 
 and undiscoverable lead j)ipe. The plumber is called in and 
 he declares that his rival who })lumbe(l the house was a per- 
 fect idiot and knew nothing about sanitary engineering. 
 That means a bill of several hundred dollars for the most im- 
 proved style of pipes and traps and drains, and, as likely as 
 not, the next year scarlet fever attacks another child and 
 a white })atch appears on the other side of our throats. Yet 
 these benighted people of Canton, who never heard of a 
 plumber, who know not how to build a decent drain, and 
 are not initiated into the mysteries of patent traps, cut-off's, 
 and counter vents, live on centurv after century in their ill- 
 drained, foul-odored city, in blissful ignorance of what they 
 esca])e by not being sufficiently civilized. 
 
 Some of the shops which interest us most as Ave ])ass 
 along the streets are the fish markets. The fish are all 
 brought to the market alive and wriggling. AVlien a cus- 
 tomer comes along, ho ])icks out the fish Avhicli he fancies in 
 the tank ; the dealer dextrously captures him with a net, 
 splits and beheads him in sight of the customer who goes on 
 his way rejoicing, knowing that at least, he will have fresh 
 fish for dinner. 
 
 The many little candy stands and booths for selling nuts 
 and cakes also interest us. There is a kind of soft yellow 
 cake made of beans which is greatly affected by the lower 
 class of Chinese, and which always has a Chinese character 
 stamped on the top ; there are peanut venders on whose 
 
f\ 
 
 CHEAP FOR "CASH. 
 
 169 
 
 travs are arranged little j)iles of peanuts which are worth 
 one ''cash" (one-tenth of a cent) each, while other dealers 
 confine their attention to betel nuts, of which they carry 
 a stock in trade consisting- of half a dozen nuts cut into 
 (quarters, with some pungent leaves to wrap them in before 
 
 .mMlliiQaiiMi! 
 
 FISniNG WITH COUMOUANTS. 
 
 they are masticated. In other places we find row after 
 row of toy shops and little earthenware establishments, 
 where the largest thing of value will cost about one cent. 
 
 In fact, it "would be interesting to see how many things 
 on the streets of Canton could be bought for a cash. A 
 collection of such articles Avould lill a cabinet with rare 
 curiosities. But let not any foreigner think he could make 
 such purchases. The thrifty Chinese dealer is sure that the 
 said foreigner's pockets are lined with gold and will charge 
 him at least ten times the true value of any article desired, 
 lie can only get what he wants at a reasonable j)rice by 
 sending a Chinaman for it and paying him a commission for 
 buying in the cheapest market. 
 
 In the large stores the "cash" is not very much used, 
 
 but small silver pieces, pennies and huge, dirty, ragged bank 
 
 bills ; but the street venders and cheap Jacks on the side- 
 11 
 
170 
 
 A COW-LOAD OF COINS. 
 
 walk trade, lor the most part, in cash alone, and one needs 
 to eariT an extra sedan eliair to Indd liis nionev il' lio 
 expects to make maJiy purclias(>s witli these ciimltroiis coins. 
 The small c<tnia;4(', liowevrM', is not so lai'^^c liere as it is 
 in Coi'ea, oj' at least the ])recious metals are more used. I 
 am told that in Coi'ea the purchaser \vh(» ^-oes to market 
 drives a cow before him to cai'iy his casli, and if lie expects 
 to make any considerable pui'chases. he must load two cows 
 with the n(vessary m<jney. The cows carry his coins, but 
 he can cari'v his purchases homo in his hands. 
 
 The royal family of Corea, it is said, desiivd to make a 
 missioiuiry a ])resent on th(> occasion of his marria<^'e, since 
 the missionaiy had been s(M'viceal)le to the emperor's wife 
 when ill. AVhat was the missionary's surprise to find six 
 coolies come to his house each loaded down "with a huij'e 
 chest of monev which was all they could stajjijer under. 
 "When ho camo to count his treasure, he found that his i)res- 
 ent was a generous doiuition of $300, all in cop])er cash. 
 
 As wo go along the streets in our sedan chairs, we excite 
 a great deal of comment and amused attention from the 
 ])a8sers l)y and from the store-keepers as well. The little 
 Pilgrim, especially, attracts the notice of all the boys and 
 girls in Canton. When they catch sight of him in his chair, 
 they chuckle and giggle and ])oint their fingers at him, and 
 laugh as if he was the funniest object they ever beheld. A 
 little imp with a long queue will scuttle into the house as we 
 go by, and call his father and mother, his uncles and aunts, 
 and his brothers and sisters and cousins, to look at that 
 strange cavalcaile, and especially at that little "foreign 
 devil," as he persists in calling the juvenile Pilgrim. 
 
 One would su])poso that foreigners were so numerous in 
 the vicinity of Canton, they would excite no interest, but, as 
 a matter of fact, comparatively few of them are seen on the 
 
^'I 
 
 AMU8IN(f ri'RIOHITIKH. 
 
 in 
 
 stivcts of tli(! n;itiv(! city. Ladies arc an especial curiosity, 
 ami Anu'i'ican boys ai'c^ evidently most aniiisine- and lon<j;-to- 
 l)e-renienil)ered creatures. It is \rry ])rol)al)le that some of 
 those slant-eyed little ('clestials are still talkin<,^ ahout that 
 small hoy in the Boston Ili'^h School caj), and those ahsurd 
 short ti'ousersand lon;^ stockings, ami that (jueer American 
 reefer, who once passed thi'ou<^h theii' streets. 
 
 rUISONKKH IN A CANTON JAIL, 
 
 There are a few " show places " in Canton, as there are 
 in every city, which the traveler must not ne<^lect, though I 
 must say that I always prefer first to get an idea of the w^ay 
 the common ])eople live, rather than to be dragged from 
 temple to })ago(la, and from ]iago(la to university by the 
 eager and loquacious guide. But that is one of Ah Cam's 
 good points. lie is willing that you should see what you 
 want to see, and will not insist upon your seeing only what 
 he considers wonderful. He lets us have our fill of Canton- 
 
172 
 
 (iRANDMOTHEU's HLUK CHINA. 
 
 Iv 
 
 I: 
 
 ii 
 
 es(} sif^lits I'lnd sounds iind odofs ; Ik; is williii;,^ tliiit we 
 should ^•riitil'y imv cui-iosity by looUinn- into vci-y liuud)l(; 
 and insiji^iiilicunt shops. lie is not iishiun(;d of us il' we stop 
 to »i;'hin(;(; at the street pechlh'i', and h(! does not IVown upon 
 us with i'i«^ht(!OUs in(li<^tiiition even when we h)ok into th(^ 
 cat and (h)<^ nie>iit stoi'c. Ilei'c; is one poor pussy, still" and 
 cold, iind sin^^ed of iill liei' hair, awiiitin<j^ a customer. A 
 pool' l)U|)py that hiis depai'ted this life, looks •ghastly since ho 
 has been di'csscid and trussed like a j)i^. In another ])art of 
 th(! stoi'<', a wick(!r basket contains another s])ecinien of the 
 feline race, which, Ah (Juni says, will bo sacrificed at noon, 
 at which tirno wo shall see a yroat many more cats and (lo<^s 
 if wo happen to ikiss that way. 
 
 Fii'st in viewin<^ C'anton's famous sights, let us go into 
 the (luild Hall of tin; tea morciiants. It is a very old 
 affair, and the carving and terra cotta work is (;xcoeding]y 
 fin(;; but we are espcicially interested in a little garden 
 behind the (luild Hall, for, from this garden the famous 
 willow ])attern was copied, Avhich is found upon the blue 
 cliina ware of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers. 
 The (original tr(!o which gave it its name has died, but the 
 other features a.ro tho same whic «avo been ]ierpetuatod so 
 many scor(>s of millions of tiiniis, on thc^ plates and cups and 
 saucers and t(!ai)ots and teacups, which, in the (jlden time, 
 wore treasured by tlu; mothers and handed down to tho 
 daughters with such scruj)ulous care. 
 
 l-'rom the (xuild ILill hit \\n go into tin; temple of tlx; five 
 hundi'(!d Uuddliists. This is a, lai'g*; building around llics 
 Avails of v»'hi(;li ar<i ari'anged in two rows great gilt images 
 of I'liddliist ancHisti'al divinities, fiv(s hundred of them in all. 
 Eveiy face has a distinct individuality of its own, and they 
 all !iav(! long ears that i-eacli dcAvn almost to their shoulders, 
 lik(; a turkey's (U!wlaj)s. These long eai's indicate longevity. 
 
n I 
 
 FIVK HUNDUKO ANCESTUAI. (iOI)S. 
 
 173 
 
 Wliiit sur])ris(Hl us most of all, was to find Marco I'olo in 
 this f^aiaxy. This famous travciicT has \h'vu aihnittcd to tiio 
 comi)aii_y of tlu; ;^'o(ls, and Ik; was Iiomoi-cmI with a stick of 
 hui'iiiu«^ inc(nis(! om thciday W(! wcvc, in tlit^ tcnij)le, which was 
 moi'c t'lau could l)c said foe most of them. \ think if I 
 had intenihid to burn any incense in tiiat temple, I shoidd 
 have put iny stick in thi! little sand box before Mai-co Polo 
 ulso. It is notc(!rtain that the features of this ima<^'(! i'es(Mn- 
 ble this lirst ^lobe-trotter's, for whom it is supposed to stand, 
 but it is probably (juite as autlK^ntic as many of th(^ pictures 
 and statues of tlx* famous m n of anti(juity. 
 
 ()n(i oUiv.v old fellow among tiie <^ods also attracted my 
 attention. lbs had eyebrows that rciached almost down to 
 his chin, and from all that I couhl gatiier, Ik; was famous 
 chiefly for his (!y(;l)rows, which have never been duplicated 
 since. 
 
 In the middl(! aisle; of the; liall of the five hundred Bud- 
 dhist gods is ii liiH! bronz(! })agoda, in which arc; three great 
 bronze inniges. While we w(;r(! in tin; tcsmple it service was 
 going on, and four j)riests wei-e marching around the; bronze 
 imag(!s, beating tluiir tomtoms and chanting in a most dole- 
 ful and lugul)rious toms of voice. Ainong all the; dis[)ij'ited 
 fellows I ever saw th(!se priests would cai'iy off thi! ])alin. 
 They had a little cur'iosity about us, who were; the only vis- 
 itoi's to the; tcjmple at tlu; time, but no interest in tlu; service 
 that th(!y wer*; perfoi'ming. They //i>f.'<t beat their tomtcmis 
 so many times ; they /ii.i/M wail out their iiideous chant so 
 many times moi'(;, but they evidently considered it a most 
 unpleasant job, aiul desired to get thi-ough it with as littlo 
 expenditure; of nervous energy as possible;. I shall iun'<!r 
 foi'g(;t the faces of two of those j)ri(!sts, so utterly dis|)ii'ite(l 
 wei'e th(iy, so completely and i)]'ofoun(lly inditren'emt to what 
 they were doing ! 
 
 ii i 
 
 1'^ 
 
 t 
 
17t 
 
 THE SORDID SPIRIT OF BUDDHISM. 
 
 It seems to mo that the siglit was representative of the 
 decadence of the lUuUlhist religion everywhere. Whatever 
 it may iiave been in the past, it certainly has little hold on 
 the alFections of the people to-day. The idols are worshii)e(l 
 with no thought of love or real reverence but Avith the hojio 
 of gain. The incense is burned and the prayers are offered 
 for the sake of good luck, and there is no more sense of 
 reverence or worship, or affectionate recognition of a higher 
 power on the part of these devotees, so far as I could learn, 
 than there is in tlie hearts of those at home, who, partly 
 for fun and partly because <jf their superstition, hang out the 
 horseshoe over the front door, or insist on seeing the moon 
 over their right shoulder when she ilrst ap])ears. "Worship 
 appears to l)o universal in such a city as Canton. Every 
 store, every house, and every boat has its god, its shrine, 
 and its incense; yet it is simply the god of Good Luck who 
 is worshiped; only the deity of Prosperity who is invoked. 
 
 Let us go to another temple before we get through with 
 Canton. This shall be the ''Temple of Horrors," which, 
 sing'ularly enough, is situated on the street of " Benevolence 
 and Love." It is the most ])opular temple in the city, 
 whether because of the horrors which are artistically ar- 
 ranged at each side or L'ecause of the fortune tellers, ped- 
 dlers, gamblers, and (piacks who have their stalls there, I am 
 not able to say. This seems to be the favorite resort of the 
 dentists also, for I saw several of their ilk with long strings 
 of extracted molars and grinders at least thirty feet in 
 length, which looked like ghastly necklaces. There were a 
 few ])eo[)le paying their vows to the idols, but the one who 
 interested me most was a woman of high caste who toddled 
 in on the tiniest of tiny J'eet. If her feet were small she 
 made u[) for it at the other end of her person, for her hair 
 was dressed in the latest and exti'emest stvle. oniaincnted 
 
w 
 
 IN THE IIEIWHT OF THE FASHION. 
 
 175 
 
 with all kinds of ricli and costly ornaments. Ilor face was 
 painted in most l)i'illiant coloi's and there was a ])atcli of 
 bi'illiant carmine on her lower lip. Iler clothing was silk of 
 various bright cohjrs, and she was evidently gotten up with- 
 out regard to expense. Ou her tiny toes she could not walk 
 alone, but had a servant ou each side to steady her as she 
 went up the steps. Slu; appeared <;s indilFeront to the god 
 wh(i was grinning from the rear end of the temple as any of 
 the rest, but coolly sent one of her sei'VJints to light some in- 
 cense and place the l)undle of sticks in the sand box beneath 
 the god's nose. Then she got a slij) referring to a nundjer, 
 which numl)er the })riest consulted and gave her the proph- 
 ecy which she sought. The ])riestly oracle frecpiently 
 couches his words in very ambiguous phrases which will 
 answer for one thing alxjut ;is well as another; but after 
 getting her slip of paper which told her fortuiu^ she toddled 
 off once more, evidently well [)]eased with the news slu; had 
 received, while tlui priests were ecpially satistied with the 
 silver bits which had come into their till. 
 
 Everything about these temples is dirty and disorderly. 
 There is no ol)eisance oi- indicaticjns of reverence on the 
 part of the worshipers. They bustU; around in the most 
 business-like way, l)uy their incense, light it, i)lace it in the 
 proper receptacle, and tlieii go off perfectly satislied that 
 they have done their duty. I]i all the smaller t(nn[)les 
 which I saw in ("liina, the sanu' disregai'd, inditrerence, and 
 irreverence were exhibit(Ml. The priests lot)ked utterly 
 weary and dispirited and evidently tlujught life was not 
 woi'th living. The; worshipers only sought good fortune 
 and success in business. Tlu^ tem[)les were often littered 
 and dirty, and priest and worshiper alike were only con- 
 cerned with wliat they could get out of the imposture. 
 This temple is called the Tem[)le of Horrors because of some 
 
KG 
 
 THE BUDDHIST HADES. 
 
 wax- work-like shows on eitlier side of the entrance which 
 leads up to it. I think Mii(hinie Tussaud must have gotten 
 the idea of her underground Temple of Horrors in London 
 from this temple in Canton, her's, to be sure, being rather 
 more artistic and realistic. J»ut this show has the advantage 
 of being older, and the figures (pute as true to life. 
 
 In one of the little ai)artments two liends are seen saw- 
 ing a man in two from his head to his feet. The poor man 
 who is l>eing thus treated is inclosed between two boards, 
 but he is tui-ned sideways to the audience so that it can see 
 the saw going through him. In another apartment transmi- 
 gration is shown, and a nnm is being turned into a wolf, the 
 creature as he a[)pears being half man and half wolf. In 
 still another section of this famous museum is a man 
 strai»[)ed to the ground with the soles of his feet uppermost, 
 Avhilo a hideous devil with a grin on his face bastinadoes 
 him. Still another pool' fellow has a red-hot bell coming 
 down over his shrinking body which, evidently, will soon be 
 reduced to a cindei', while another one is being boiled in oil. 
 These are the ])unishments of the Buddhist hell. 
 
 Another of the show ])laces of Canton which we wish to 
 see is the Examination Hall. Here every three years the 
 examinution of candidates for the second literary degree is 
 held All the students of the lirst degree in the whole 
 })rovince are recjuii-ed to compete at this examination, and I 
 imat>ine it is the most extensive "exam " that is held in anv 
 portion of the world. As we enter the Examination Hall, 
 we see on either side rows and rows of little cells which ex- 
 tend back from the main passageway, seventy-five or a hun- 
 dred of them in a row. These cells are 5^ feet long and 
 3^ feet wide, and numbei' lljfUO; but even this enoi'mous 
 number is not enough for all the candidates, and additional 
 cells were furnished at the last triennial examination. 
 
THE GREAT TRIENNIAL EXAMINATION. 
 
 177 
 
 In these naiTow closets the ciuulidute for the second de- 
 gree is imprisoned. lie is given a chair and a (Hniinutive 
 table : a little earthen braiser with a few coals in it on 
 which he can cook his rice and make his tea, and for three 
 days he is not allowed to leave liis cell except to go into the 
 narrow passage whicli runs beside it. lie must have no 
 communication with any other student, and if he is caught 
 with another man's essav or cheatiu''- in anv wav, he mav 
 lose his head, for aught I know. At any rate the punish- 
 ment Avould be very severe. The examination begins on the 
 eighth day of the eighth moon and occupies three sessions of 
 three days each. The same text is given to all at daylight, 
 and the essays must be handed in on the following morning. 
 Out of these 12,0()() or more candidates, liow many do you 
 suppose pass the linal examination^ ^^'^Iv 1^5<> on the 
 average. The rest of the poor fellows Avho have used their 
 time jind brains fijr nothing are doomed to disa[)])ointment, 
 but they can try for the degree again at tlie end of another 
 three years if they choose, and again and again, and the 
 most pathetic spectacle is to see old men of sixty and 
 seventv years who have tried to i)ass the examination every 
 three years since they were twenty, still hoping against 
 lio})e. 
 
 Those who pass, however, are well taken care of, for 
 they are booked for promotion in civil offices, and are 
 always required to go to Peking to compete for the third 
 degree. If one passes this {bird degree, he is honored by all 
 his relatives and by the Avhole clan. I have seen many 
 a pole with fluttering flags set up in Chinese vilhiges, indi- 
 cating that the family which lives about that pole has a 
 scholar of high rank among them, one who has passed an 
 examination for the second or third degree. 
 
 But what an absurd and useless waste of energy is re- 
 
178 
 
 A WASTE OF ENEKCJY. 
 
 ([uiivd to pnss this examiniition? Notliing of modern 
 scieiifc is deiiiandod, notliinn- of modern litemturo, notliin*'- 
 timt will improve the body or the soul, or that will add to 
 the siiin total of the world's knowledge ; hut simply an essay 
 on some text of Confucius. This is the only door of en- 
 trance to civil service promotion in China. This kind of 
 civil service reform certainly needs itself to be reformed. 
 
 Another interesting place in Canton is the Five-Storied 
 Pagoda. Strickly speaking, it is not Ji i)ago(Ui at all, but 
 looks more like a great brick barn. There are five stories to 
 it, however, and from the topmost i)latfoi'm a magnilicent 
 view of the city, the great river, and the hills beyond can 
 be seen. These hills are filled with graves of a semicircular 
 shape, and from this place the tond) of a relative of Ma- 
 liommed, Avho died in the seventh century, is visible. 
 
 Perhaps we have seen enough for one morning, and after 
 paying our bearers about twenty-live cents each for their 
 services and our guide a reasonable sum for his time, Ave will 
 find our way back to our friends, v/ith most vivitl recodec- 
 tions of a morning in Canton. 
 
CIIAPTEU X. 
 
 OUR JOURNEY UP THE GREAT RIVER. 
 
 An Excursion in a Flower Boat — " Rico Power " — Tiic Stcrn-Wheolcr 
 and itH Motive Power — Sacritices and Perils of the Missionary — A 
 Cliiiiese Feast — CliO] Sticks and How to UseTliein — Lanih and Cliest- 
 nuts— Frogs' Legs and Onions — A Dissipaled Prejudice — Shrimps 
 and JJaniboo Root — Our Seventeen Courses — A Chinese Village — A 
 Village School and Schoolniaster — Studying Alou^l — A Pot and its 
 Contents — How the Ashes of Grandfathers are saved in China — " Fe, 
 Fi, Fo, Fum, I Smell the Blood of a Chinaman" — Seventeen Dollars 
 for a Clnld — A Fire-Cracker Factory — How Fire-Crackers are Made 
 — Cheaj) AV^ages and Cheap Living— A Chinese Flower Garden— A 
 Mandarin in His Blossom Gown — A Common Temple — Waking up 
 the God — Washstands for a God — Lack of Reverence — Fans for Sick 
 Relatives — The Voices of the Night — A Contrast, 
 
 I GST visitors to Canton confine their 
 attention to the great city itself, 
 and think they have seen it all 
 when they have visited the Exam- 
 ination Hall, the Temple of the 
 Five Ilnndred Gods, the silk- 
 weaving establishments, and the 
 Five-Storied Pagoda; but to me 
 these Avere not the niost interest- 
 in o; of the sio-hts of this marvel- 
 ons province, teeming with more 
 population than any other ecpial 
 section of the globe. It Avas onr good fortune to be guests 
 in a delio-htful missionary home Avhile in Canton, and to 
 see not only these stock sights, but to get some glimpses of 
 Chinese life .vliich not one visitor in a hundred is likely to 
 
 see. 
 
 (179) 
 
180 RICE POWER NAVKUTION. 
 
 One (lay we had an excursion u)> the great Pearl Iliver 
 in a Cliiiie.se house boat. Tiiis was a most uiiicjue experi- 
 ence. The hoat was a great lumbering ark of an atl'air, 
 fitted u}) with kitchen and sitting-room, while the stained- 
 glass wiiulows, ebony and marl^le furniture, and tinkling 
 chandeliers gave it quite a gorgeous ajipearance. Slowly 
 and wearisomely the coolies made their way up the river 
 just as their ancestors had done for a thousand years jiast. 
 Our boat, like all the other thousands on the river, was pro- 
 pelled by " rice power," as one of our fi'iends said. Steam 
 power has not yet been introduced on the Pearl Kiver, 
 except for a few steam launches. Electric ])ower is still un- 
 unknown, but " rice power," exerted through the muscles of 
 men and women, is still the })ropelling force on the Canton 
 or Pearl River. 
 
 Every now and then a splashing stern-Avheel boat would 
 pass us. At first it ajipeared almost like a Mississi))pi IJiver 
 steamer of rude design, Avith Avater flA'ing from the paddle 
 wheel behind, but on looking more closely, we could see that 
 the machinery was worked l)y sixteen coolies, who constantly 
 shullled through their monotonous round like ])oor horses in 
 a treadmill. But even this is an invention of very late years, 
 and is considered a great innovation by most of the inhabit- 
 ants. A long sweep fastened to a short staple in the bow 
 of the boat is still the ordinary means of propulsion. 
 
 Every few minutes our coolies would stop to refresh 
 themselves with a cup of tea, or a whiff or two from their 
 pipes, which, by the way, only hold a })inch of tobacco. 
 They all seemed to be very good-tempered and al>le-bodied 
 fellows. One or two of them had brawny arms tliat would 
 rejoice the heart of a pugilist. Past the rice fields, past vil- 
 lages, past toiling coolies endlessly pumping water for irri- 
 gation, past luxuriant gardens where every square inch of 
 
^ 
 
 COURA(JE AND SELF-SACKIFKE. 
 
 181 
 
 W 
 
 soil is cultivated, wo slowly made our way. Some of my 
 missionary Friends spend much of their time in the villages 
 lumdi'eds of miles u}) the river, for this is a great water way 
 ■which branches out in (>vei'v direction and affords access to 
 the very heart of this great province. I would like to intro- 
 duce the scoffers at missi(Miary woi'k to these self-sacrificing 
 men and women who have left their home and fi'iends 
 behind them, and are spending their lives in the foul atmos- 
 phere of a pagan country, not for a few short weeks or 
 mcmths, but for a lifetime, in order to win some of these 
 people to Christ. 
 
 Many a time have these missionaries taken their lives 
 in their hands. Though there is now but little danger in 
 most of the villages there are some which it is not safe for 
 them to visit. Many times have some of them been stoned 
 out of the villages Avhere they attempted to preach the Gos- 
 pel, but they still persevered and are satisfied that the time 
 will come when this marvelous j)eo])le, who have retained 
 their ancient civilization for so many centuries, will be 
 equally stable in their new Christian civilization. 
 
 At length, in the course of this novel picnic, dinner time 
 
 comes and my friends have promised me a genuine Chinese 
 
 feast. Let us sit down together to this feast. AVe are not 
 
 allowed to have knives and forks or spoons, but simply 
 
 chop sticks and a little porcelain ladle, with which we help 
 
 ourselves out of the common dish in the middle of the 
 
 table. "Would you learn how to use these chop sticks^ 
 
 then follow these directions implicitly. Put the lower stick 
 
 across the thumb, holding it firmly betAveen the thumb 
 
 and first finger. Place the second cho}) stick over this, 
 
 allowing it to be flexible and to wriggle as you desire it. 
 
 After considerable practice you may ho. able to convey a 
 
 piece of fish from the central dish to your mouth Avithout a 
 12 
 
 I 
 
182 
 
 A GENUINE CHINESE FEAST. 
 
 catastr()))ho on the way. The great soeivt (A catiri',^ with 
 chop sticks is to koop tho lower stick stitl' and inllcxihle; but 
 a forci<^ncr\s musclt's bciny ill-trained, it is apt to waver and 
 slip, which is fatal to all successful elfoi'ts. 
 
 After waitinff a considerable time for the diijnilied cooks 
 to make read}', oranges and banaiiiis are brought on for tho 
 first course. These required no great skill, for wo aro 
 allowed to take thorn in our hands and eat them as at any 
 other time. But now comes a diillcult task. A sou}) with 
 mushrooms, melons, I'ice, and l)arlev, is next brought on and 
 placed in a bowl in the center of the table. Each one takes 
 liis little porcelain ladle and dii)s for himself in the common 
 bowl, while the larger particles of mushrooms and melons ho 
 must fish out witii his chop sticks. The third cour.se is 
 boiled chicken stulfed Avith chestnuts and rice. This is so 
 completely cooked that the least little touch with tho chop 
 sticks breaks it into pieces, and wo ench fish out for ourselves 
 "what wo can from tho common dish. AVlien secured it is 
 most toothsome and savor v, I assure vou. 
 
 Stuffed ])igeons constitute the fourth course. They are 
 somewhat like the chickens, only dressed in a different way. 
 Fish Avrap])ed in something that resembles a sausage skin 
 constitutes the fifth course, and a very good course it is. 
 The sixth course is lamb and chestnuts ; seventh course, 
 matai, a vegetable that is crisp and very pleasant to tho 
 taste. Duck and ham furnish tho eighth course, and with 
 each new tlisli our })lates aro changed, though we are al- 
 lowed to retain the same chop sticks. Frogs' legs stewed in 
 onions are then placed upon the table. 
 
 Some of the ladies of the party told the Chinese servants 
 to be sure and let them know when the frogs apjieared that 
 they might decline that course ; but Avhen they thought to 
 mention the matter, they were ])olitely informed that the 
 
SKVKNTKK.N (OIKSKS. 
 
 183 
 
 tVot^s had alrciuly been eiitt-n. and tliov roiin'iiilu'rcd, wlicii 
 it was too late to roinedv it, that thcv had i'liiovcd that 
 coiii'so bettor tlian any otlici-. Thus oui' pi'cjiidicrs ai'o dissi- 
 ])atL'd, soinotinios unconsciously, I>ul why IVo^^s shouhl bo 
 any more distasteful than turtles or oysters or lish, I have 
 never been able to dotorniine. 
 
 The tenth course is rice, just sini|ile, uiiiidulteiMted boiled 
 rice. Why it should he thus honored in the middle! ol' the 
 least, 1 ;iMi not aware. This is followed by a course of 
 shrimps stowed with onions and bandioo I'oot, which is very 
 l)alatable. The twelfth coiu'se is jticUles; the thirteenth, 
 baiumas; the fourteenth, another mushroom soup; the fif- 
 teenth, a kind of a dish made of shi'imps, jiork, and other 
 meat mixed and boiled to<^ethei'. The sixteenth is sjumge 
 cake, and tho seventeenth numdarin oran<''es. J>v this time 
 you can imagine that the capacities of the missionaries were 
 sorely taxed, and even the gastronomic cai)al)ilities of their 
 guests were tried to the utmost extent. However, this was 
 not all, for in order to do full justice to the (Jhinese feast, we 
 must not forget that we are in the land c^f tea, aiul in a little 
 while, dainty and delicate cu})s of it are brought on to con- 
 clude the ban(]uet. 
 
 A little way back from the river are many Chinese 
 villages which for the most part are embowered in trees. 
 The tiled roofs look so much like the surface of tho ground 
 that it is dirticult at a little distance to find Avliere the village 
 begins and the fields leave off. If we get into the village, 
 however, we shall find it teeming with life. 
 
 On this trip up the Pearl river we have an excellent 
 opportunity to visit one of these villages. In the missionary 
 district which is covered by one of my friends who is in the 
 boat with us, are thirty thousand of these villages. Of 
 course he could not preach in all of them in one year or 
 
 1' 
 i! 
 
IMAGE EVALUATiON 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 l?5 
 
 111= 
 
 U ill 1.6 
 
 
 9 
 
 '*^..*, ^^"«-:.^ ■'''C*'^ 
 
 ^i> <^ 
 
C<' 
 
184 
 
 STREETS SPANNED BY AN UMBRELLA. 
 
 in a hundred years, but they are all open to his ministra- 
 tions. From a distance these villages look somewhat pictur- 
 esque, but the enchantment vanishes on nearer approach. If 
 the streets of Ilong Kong are narrow and the streets of 
 Canton narrower, the streets of these villages should be 
 
 
 1 
 
 \h 
 
 { 
 
 'r 
 
 \ 
 
 )i 
 
 \ '^ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 V\i 1 
 
 \ 
 
 t^ 
 
 \k. 
 
 JL'-f 
 
 &^ 
 
 -ixM 
 
 fsQ 
 
 m^it 
 
 Sm 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 ON THE PEARL ItlVER. 
 
 compared in the superlative degree, for indeed they are the 
 narrowest of all. Two people can scarcely walk abreast in 
 many of them. I had in my hand Avhen visiting one of 
 them, an ordinary umbrella which exactly spanned the dis- 
 tance from Avail to Avail in many streets, AA'hile the Avidest 
 ones Avere about six inches Avider than the length of my 
 umbrella. The })avement is broken and shattered and horri- 
 ble filth is ever^nvhere. 
 
 As Ave passed along the street in the village, Ave heard a 
 great noise of voices reciting in a humdrum, sing-song way, 
 something Avhicli AA'as of course unintelligible to us. 
 
 " That is a school," said my friend ; " let us look in." So 
 Ave unceremoniously entered, Avhich Ave found Ave Avere at 
 
«l 
 
 A PRIMARY SCHOOL. 186 
 
 perfect liberty to do, and saw twenty little urchins who, at 
 the top of their voices, were shouting some sentences from 
 Confucius. The schoolmaster did not appear at first, but 
 after we had been standing looking in at the door for a 
 moment, finding from the slight cessation of noise, which 
 was due to curiosity of the students who could not recite 
 and look at us at the same time, that there was something 
 going on, he came out of the back room of the school build- 
 ing. 
 
 He was very polite and courteous and invited us to come 
 in and take a seat. He explained to us that the ])upils 
 learned the words, but that they had no idea of their mean- 
 ing. After they had thoroughly committed them, he in- 
 terpreted the meaning of the passage, and then gave them 
 a new one to learn. They cannt)t do this silently, however, 
 but the louder they shout the quicker they seem to learn 
 their lessons. Most of the schoolmasters throughout the 
 empire are those Avho have passed tne first examination, but 
 are among the vast majorit} of those who have not passed 
 the second and who, in all prubability, never will. It is for- 
 tunate tliat some occupation is open to them, though the 
 teacher of the common school is not a very exalted person- 
 age in China. 
 
 " What do Miat large earthen pot contain ? " I said to 
 my friend as we came out of the school. " Oh, that is the 
 ancestral jar, containing the ashes of the grandfathers of tlie 
 people who live in this house," he said. 
 
 Thus we made our way through tliis crowded little 
 village. The Avomen came to the door of their little hovels 
 to stare at us, the children scuttled away as though we were 
 the arch enemies of mankind. Doubtless many of them 
 have been taught by their parents to believe that foreigners 
 will make aAvay with all of them if they can only get their 
 
18G FOREIGN OGRES. 
 
 hands upon them. Every foreigner, in tlie estimation of the 
 lower orders of Chinese, is a great ogre who is constantly 
 saying, when he comes into a Chinese village, 
 
 " Fe, fl, fo, fuin, 
 
 " I smell the blood of a Chiimnian," 
 
 and these litrle folks had evidently been taught to keep out 
 of harm's way. • 
 
 "When the haathen Chinese Avish to damage the reputa- 
 tion of the missionary, they persuade their simple-minded 
 countrymen that the missionaries wish the eyes and hair 
 and livers of their children to make up into medicine, and 
 that they must not send their children to the mission 
 schools. A friend of mine took a poor little child, whose 
 mother had died and whose father was a worthless scam]), 
 in order that she might bring up this c' "Id in a decent way. 
 For several months she watched over it carefully, and gave 
 it the best of Chinese nurses, but one sad day for the baby 
 the wretched father happened around, caught up the child, 
 carried it off, and sold it for $17, in order to satisfy one of 
 his creditors. The selling of children is a very common 
 thing among the lower class of the Chinese, and infanticide 
 is still practiced in some of the provinces to a frightful ex- 
 tent. Xo wonder, with sucli Bluebeard-like stories for nur. 
 sery tales, that the little slant-eyed urchins got out of our 
 way as rapidly as they could. 
 
 On our way from the village we jiassed a firecracker fac- 
 tory, in which I am sure the bovs of America will be inter- 
 ested. In the rear room of the factory were piles of coarse 
 brown ])a])cr. P>v a very simple process tliis pajier is made 
 into tubes of the right size for different kinds of firecrackers, 
 while in still another room a dozen men and girls were 
 putting in the powder, tam])ing in the brick dust on top, and 
 making a great clatter about it with their little mallets. 
 
CHINESE CHEAP LABOR. 
 
 187 
 
 Most of this work is done by hand, though some rude 
 machinery is used. It has been a mystery to me, ever 
 since the Urst Fourth of July that I can remember, how fire- 
 crackers could be made and sent over to America to be sold 
 for five cents a bunch. The mystery is scarcely diminished 
 when we see the work performed, and note that so much of 
 it is hand labor. I suppose the real explanation lies in the 
 cheapness of labor. Wages, I am told, do not average more 
 than ten cents per day, equivalent to seven cents of our 
 money ; but even on this the coolies can supply themselves 
 with scanty food and sufficient clothing for this climate, and, 
 perhaps, lay by a few dollars for the rainy day which people 
 in China, as well as in America, are always fearing. 
 
 The real secret of Chinese cheap labor is Chinese cheap 
 living. Hotels in China Avliich charge $-t.(JU a day for their 
 guests and $1.00 a day for European servants Avill board 
 Chinese servants for ticentij vents a day, and tlren make 
 money. I cannot say, however, that this poor and monoto- 
 nous life, as it doubtless is, has any deteriorating effect, 
 physically, on the Chinese. They seem usually to be strong 
 and healthy, and unless addicted to opium smoking, as many 
 of them are, they are often fine s})ecimens of a vigorous 
 physical manhood. How a coolie can support life, and do 
 the tremendously hard labor which is expected of him six- 
 teen hours out of the twenty-four, on a little rice and fish, 
 surpasses the foreigner's comprehension ; and yet that it can 
 be done is proved by the hundred of millions of robust peo- 
 ple in all parts of the Chinese Empire. 
 
 On our way from tlie village we Avent into a Cliinese 
 flower garden. These abound in the vicinity of Canton, and 
 are really very beautiful. Evei'ytliing is on a diminutive 
 scale. Flowering shrubs, orange trees, lemon trees, azalias, 
 and chrysanthemums are all of the dwarf variety. Many 
 
 .4 
 
 
 I; 
 
 I 
 
188 
 
 BLOSSOMING MANDARINS. 
 
 orange trees growing in pots are loaded with little oranges 
 no larger than the end of one's thumb. But the most curi- 
 ous thing about these flower gardens is the shapes into 
 which the shrubs are trained. On many branches we found 
 huge goggle eyes pinned, while from the lower branches 
 porcelain hands reach out to us in a ghostly Avay. Below 
 the hands Avere often a pair of porcelain feet resting on the 
 soil. AYe found that in this way was constructed the skele- 
 ton of a floral mandarin, who, after a few weeks, as the 
 blossoms oi)ened on the branches, Avould be clothed in a 
 gorgeous dress of white or red or yellow bloom. Some of 
 the mandarins had already blossomed out, and their heads 
 and hands and porcelain feet appeared from a beautiful 
 dress of living green and brilliant flowers. There Avere also 
 in this garden lions and unicorns, foxes and buff'aloes, Avith 
 floAvery skins, and goggle eyes of porcelain. The Avhole 
 effect Avas A'ery curious. 
 
 A Chinese mandarin clothed in flowers, or a lion or uni- 
 corn in the same beautiful dress, if displayed in a 'New 
 York florist's AvindoAV, AA'ould attract such a croAvd that the 
 police Avould luiA'e to clear the Avay. There AA'ere many 
 other beautiful things in this garden, fountains and arch- 
 AA'ays, bridges OA'er little streams, and flowery pagodas, mak- 
 ing it as picturesque and beautiful a place as could be found 
 in our most extensive establishments in England or America. 
 
 As Ave came out of the garden Ave passed along the bor- 
 ders of canals and roads lined Avith orange and lemon trees 
 and the beautiful carambola, Avith its three-cornered yelloAV 
 fruit as large as an apple hanging in rich profusion from its 
 branches. The carambolas Avere just ripe at the time of 
 our visit to Canton, and the deep yelloAV, luscious fruit shin- 
 ing through the green leaves made as pretty an orchard 
 effect as one Avould Avish to see. 
 
 
THE GRIMY GODS OF CHINA. ISO 
 
 On our way back to our missionary home, we stepped 
 into one of the common temples, not a great, gorgeous 
 temple such as we have seen in Canton, but a more modest, 
 suburban shrine. A beautiful grove of trees surrounded it, 
 but within the temple was the same squalor and dirt, indif- 
 ference and irreverence, that we have seen elsewhere. 
 There was, to be sure, a gong to be rung, and a ])ig drum to 
 be beaten in order to wake up the god, and by his side were 
 many votive offerings. In one temple that we visited, the 
 god had been favored with several washstands fitted up with 
 copper basins. From the looks of his time-begrimed face 
 we thought he needed to use these presents. Another god 
 had several suits of clothing presented to him. These hung 
 on a chair near by, though from their appearance we judged 
 that he had never put them on. Still another had a hand- 
 some sedan chair among his gifts, so that he could take a 
 ride if he wished. 
 
 The god of medicine is assiduously fanned by many of 
 his worshipers, and these fans are taken home to be used by 
 his friends in fannmg their sick relatives, thus bringing the 
 breath of the god near to them. 
 
 That such an intelligent, practical, sensible people, as the 
 Chinese undoubtedly are in many ways, should still adhere 
 to these absurd and silly superstitions, can only be accounted 
 for by the fact that few of them have ever heard of jin v- 
 thing better, and that the religion of Christ in this vast 
 empire has 3'et had time to make but little headway. 
 
 Soon we are again at the kind home which opens to us its 
 hospitable doors after a most delightful day on the river and 
 in the country, tired enough, as Ave thought, to go to bed 
 and sleep soundly in spite of the voices of the night, which 
 are not so poetical as in some sections of the globe. Yet Ave 
 hear until Avell on toAvards midniffht the claiiffinff of the 
 
190 
 
 IN THE NIGHT AVATCHES. 
 
 gongs from the Biuldliist temples on either side of our 
 frieutrs home, alternating Avith the beating of cymbals, for 
 this has been a high day and the god must be worshiped far 
 into the night. 
 
 Every now niid then a louder bang indicates the report 
 of a gun, which we are told is lired by the Avatchman on his 
 rounds to let the thieves know that he is in their vicinity and 
 that they had better keep out of his way, a very convenient 
 thinf for the thieves, as it seems to us. Thus, Avith the bang 
 of gun and beat of drum, and clash of cymbals, our senses 
 grow droAVsy as Ave recall to m nd the events of the day that 
 has passed, and Ave thank God for a religion that appeals to 
 the head as Avell as to the heart, to the conscience and not to 
 superstition, to the love of God and not to an undefined fear 
 of evil, to the desire for holiness and not to the hope of gain. 
 These are the lessons Avhich the tom-toms and the fire-crack- 
 ers, the gongs and tlie drums of the Buddhist temples, teach 
 us in the Avatches of the night. 
 
CirAPTP:R XL 
 
 OUR STAY IN CHARMING JAPAN — SOCIAL CUSTOMS — SOME 
 INTERESTING PERSONAL EXPERIENCES — LIFE AND 
 SCENES ON A TEA PLANTATION. 
 
 The Best Preparation for a New Land — A Terrible Typlioon — Personal 
 Experiences — " Tlie Lord is Able to Give Thee Much More Than 
 This" — Tlie ;Most Beautiful of Mountains— Fujiyama in Spotless 
 Ermine — " Fiery Jack" — Yokohama — The Rush of Jinrikishas — 
 The Capture of the Man-of-War"s ]\Icn — Fun in the Custom House — 
 "Crossing the Palm" — A Lesson in Japanese Politeness — Bowing in 
 Japanese — The Shop-keeper's Salaam — The Maid Servant's Obeisance 
 
 — Receiving Callers — A Hinge in the Spine — The Ohio Statesman's 
 Mistake — "My Fool of a Wife " — Japanese Railways — Our Fellow 
 Passengers — Progressive Japan — Telegraph Lines and Electric Lights 
 
 — Postal Delivery Six Times a Day — Protecting the Windows — The 
 Professor's Many Suits- The " Obi" — A Japanese Joseph — What we 
 Saw from the Car Window — A Tea Pluutatiou. 
 
 OTinXG SO well prepares the trav- 
 eler for an introduction to any 
 new land as a long and stormy 
 journey thitherward by sea. Even 
 the desert of Sahara Avould ])e 
 welcome under such circum- 
 stances ; how much more the 
 beautiful shores of smiling Japan. 
 So far as i)i'evious pre})aration 
 is concerned, wo were made 
 ampl\' I'eadv 1)V the lontj: and 
 stormv vovaae from IIonf>' Konfj:. 
 Earely has so much tempestuous discomfort been com- 
 pressed into the seven dtiys between Hong Kong and 
 Yokohama. 
 
 As we neared the coast of Japan, a fearful typhoon 
 
 (101) 
 
192 THROUGH THE CENTER OP THE TYPHOON. 
 
 which liad hoen following in our wake for several days, 
 making only a little more rapid time than the steamer itself, 
 overtook us. The barometer dropped to the lowest point 
 ever known in these latitudes, and about ten o'clock on the 
 night of November 28d, the wind began to blow with " ty- 
 phoon force." For several days before, the wind had been 
 " blowing a gale," according to the captain's log book, but 
 on this night the demons of the air seemed to take to them- 
 selves seventy times seven spirits worse than the first, and 
 the Avay they shrieked and howled and screamed through 
 the rigging will never be forgotten by the passengers of the 
 Peru. Hoping the storm might blow by. Captain Ward at 
 first " hove to," to speak after the manner of sailors, but, 
 fearing that we might drift upon the rocks of the Loochoo 
 Islands, he soon put on all steam again, and drove his good 
 ship directly through the center of the typhoon, in order to 
 get sufficient sea room. 
 
 As is well known, a typhoon is a circular storm of lim- 
 ited extent, which revolves about a comparatively calm area. 
 After plowing our way through the eastern edge of the 
 typhoon for some two hours, we struck the calmer center, 
 and for a little while the passengers congratulated them- 
 selves that the storm was over. But, alas ! our congratula- 
 tions were premature, for, after half an hour of comparative 
 quiet, the Peru dashed into the Avestern edge of the cyclone, 
 and all the demons in the rigging began to scream and howl 
 and shriek with redoubled fury. For two hours more it was 
 with the greatest difficulty that we kept in our berths, hold- 
 ing to the storm braces with both hands, and thus prevent- 
 ing ourselves from being pitched headlong into the mass of 
 trunks and rugs, tumblers and Avater bottles, hairbrushes 
 and life preservers, which were jumbled together in inde- 
 scribable confusion upon the state-room floor. 
 
FUJIYAMA, THE BEAUTIFUL. 193 
 
 As the gray dawn began to show in what part of the 
 state-room the window was situated, the wind somewhat 
 moderated, but the waves were as high as ever. Reaching 
 down into the confused mass of ilchris which lay on the 
 state-room floor, Mrs. Pilgrim picked up one of tlie calen- 
 dars which our thoughtful friends at home had given us, with 
 the follovring cheering message for November twenty -fourth 
 (Thanksgiving day, by the way), " The Lord is able to give 
 thee much more than this." 
 
 Never did that promise from Holy Writ have such a sin- 
 ister significance before. However, as the storm cleared 
 away and the sun appeared later in the day, and as the 
 waves somewhat moderated, though still "mountainous," 
 according to the log book of the Peru, we felt the promise 
 was not so inappropriate after all, and there were many 
 things to be thankful for on this Thanksgiving Day, even 
 though the rolling, pitching dinner table did prevent our 
 doing full justice to the Thanksgiving turkey and cranberry 
 sauce. 
 
 After this experience, it can readily be seen that we 
 eagerly awaited the first glimpse of the lovely shores of 
 Japan. 
 
 Early on the morning of November twenty -sixth, they 
 broke upon us. There was Fujiyama, the most beautiful 
 mountain in the world, which figures on innumerable screens 
 and fans and teacups, rising b<ifore us in all his regal 
 splendor. No wonder that the Japanese love their sacred 
 mountain ; a far more dull and phlegmatic people would have 
 their veins stirred by such a sight. 
 
 This first .view of Fujiyama Avhich we enjo^^ed was per- 
 haps the best that could be obtained. The early snow of 
 approaching winter clothed him in a spotless ermine mantle 
 to his very feet. Every part of this most symmetrical and 
 
104 OUR WELCOME TO JAPAN. 
 
 lovely cono was of dazzling wliiteiioss, and, as the Eastern 
 sun arose, a rosy tinge s})read its glow from the topmost 
 crater to the lowest fringe of the glistening garment. 
 
 On the other side of the steamer a volcano was pulling 
 out hugev<;lumes of smoke. " Fiery Jack " the sailors called 
 it. On both sides the carefully cultivated fields of this park- 
 like fairy land came down close to the water's edge. Little 
 sailboats and Japanese junks danced about us on every side. 
 Everything on sea and shore looked its brightest and best. 
 The terrors of the stormy passage were forgotten, and Ave 
 felt that nature conspired with the experiences of the past 
 few days to make our welcome to Japan most bright and 
 memorable. 
 
 A feAV hours later and the I*<')'u droj^ped her anchor 
 in Yokohama harbor, and \\q gladly exchanged the deck of 
 the shij) for more substantial teri'd Jirma. 
 
 Yokohanui, Avith its large English concession, its substan- 
 tial Avarehouses, and its harbor full of the A'^essels of all 
 nations, is not a typical Japanese city, and yet there are 
 many things to interest the traveler, Avho has not as yet been 
 sated Avith the temples and palaces, the picturesque villages 
 and beautiful natural scenery of fair Japan. 
 
 For instance, as aa'c stepped ashore from the steam launch 
 a Avliole army of jinrikisha men came after us, each insisting 
 that Ave should patronize his particular baby carriage. But 
 first our baggage had to be passed through the Custom 
 House, and Ave Avere obliged for a time to disappoint our 
 eager friends, Avho served as hackmen and horses combined. 
 
 "While Ave Avere undergoing the trying ordeal of a Custom 
 House inspection some fifty sailors from a British man-of- 
 Avar roAved ashore. Then Avhat rushing and jamming and 
 pushing and shouting there Avas on the part of the jinrikisha 
 men! The eager cabmen at Forty -second street station. 
 
CURIOUS OFFICIALS. 195 
 
 New York, are not to be coni}){ire(l to their brethren of 
 Yokohiuna. Two jinrikislia men ])itche(l upon each jolly- 
 tar and bore him away bodily to one of the little carriages 
 in waiting, and in less time than it takes to tell the story 
 every sailor was bundled into a jinrikislia and wliisked 
 away ; we fear to no very reputable abitling place, for land- 
 sharks abound in Yokohama as in every seai)ort, and the 
 jinrikisha men have the reputation of being subsidized by the 
 worst of them. 
 
 Going through the Custom House is oftentimes a serious 
 matter in Japan, not that the duties are very high,' but the 
 Custom House officials' curiosity is very great. Anything 
 done up in a bundle seemed to excite their susi)icion at once, 
 and they took a boyish delight in finding out that one pack- 
 age contained a few worthless seashells, another a set of 
 chess men, each one of which had to be taken from its box 
 and examined separately, and still another, a double Chinese 
 sword, wliich one official took from its sheath and made 
 playful lunges at all the others who surrounded him. 
 
 However, a little harmless curiosity on the part of these 
 youthful inspectors is a venial fault compared with the rude- j 
 
 ness and corruption of many of our customs officials at \ 
 
 home. One can afford to spend a little time at the Custom k 
 
 House while the inmost recesses of his trunks are beine: ran- 
 sacked, if only he is treated Avith politeness meanwhile, 
 and is not brazenly asked to " to cross the i)alm " of the official, 
 as I have been invited to do ere this in New York city. 
 
 Now that we have actually set foot on Japanese soil, we 
 may as Avell take a lesson in Japanese politeness, for from 
 the lowest porter to the emperor himself this is an ingrained 
 characteristic, and unless we are careful, our brusque and 
 prompt western way may shock this courtliest of all 
 peoples. 
 
196 A LESSON IN POLITENESS. 
 
 Even the Custom House otHcials bow low when we 
 present our keys and recjuest them to examine our trunks, 
 and the jinrikisha men almost bend themselves to the dust 
 before us in their polite entreaties that we favor them with 
 our patronage. 
 
 As we g'o u]) the street, if we ste]) into a Japanese store 
 to buy so much as a sheet of ])aper, we are greeted with 
 a low salaam by the ])ro])rietor, who deems it (piite awkward 
 to go <lirectly to business without a few polite })reliminai'y 
 genuflet^tions. 
 
 AVlien we reach our boarding-house a smiling man-ser- 
 vant stands upon the jiiazza to take our baggage with tiie 
 most gracious bow, tind the door is opened by a maid-ser- 
 vant who almost touches the floor with her forehead, so low 
 is her obeisance as she admits us Avithin the penetralia. 
 
 When we go upon the platform to make an address our 
 audience often rises and bows, and when we begin to s])eak 
 it is the })roper thing to make as low a salute <is our Ameri- 
 can stiffness and previous training will allow. Upon this 
 the audience all bow most graciously once more. At the 
 conclusion of the address the speaker bows again, and the 
 audience Returns the salute. 
 
 But it is when Ave receive callers that the most trying 
 politeness is exjiected. The caller bows and we bow, and 
 then the caller bows again and we bow still lower. Again, 
 our Ja])anese visitor bends his body in a tiiird genuHection, 
 and we foUow suit, doing oui* best to hoin in Ja])anese if we 
 cannot speak Ja])anese. 
 
 If we were well trained we siiould not lift u}) our stoo})iiig 
 figure until our visitor had begun to raise liimself from his 
 salutatory i)osture, and we furtively glance out of the corners 
 of our eyes to see if ho is not almost through with his bow- 
 ing. Sometimes a ])eculiar little guttoral grunt indicates 
 
GENUFLECTIONS AND CIRCUMLOCUTIONS. 
 
 197 
 
 that the visitor has finished his genuflections, and tliat Ave 
 can raise our own hodies to an upi-iglit posture with ])i'o- 
 priety. I very nuicli fear tiiat I liave many times broken 
 all the laws in the Japanese code of ])ropriety and courtesy, 
 but I trust I shall be forgiven, and that niy rudeness will be 
 charged to a lack of early training, and to my imperfect 
 western notions of civility. 
 
 One important factor in the Japanese obeisance is to get 
 the hinge in the right ])ai't of your anatomy. The brus(jue 
 Yankee and stiff Englislnnan bow sim])ly with their heads 
 and the hinge they use is at the top of their spinal columns, 
 but no such indiffei'ent bobbing of the head will satisfy the 
 Japanese denuinds. One must put the hinge lower down, at 
 the base of his sj)inal column, and bow with his whole body 
 instead of the to]) of his liead. A few days of ])ractice will 
 make one fairly ])i'(>(icieiit in this superficial part of the 
 Japanese code of eti(piett(!. 
 
 liut not only is their jioliteness a matter of bows and 
 genuflections; it is as fully indicated in their language. 
 There is a ])olite language which is (piite different from that 
 used on ordinary occasions, and cannot even be understood 
 by those familiar only with the colhKiuial tongue. Even the 
 humblest peojJe use the })olitest circumlocutions on every 
 possible occasion. 
 
 For instance, when we knock at the door, the ])erson 
 inside cries out "Ohairi," which means, ''AVe welcome your 
 honorable return." When one greets a friend on the street 
 he says, ''Ohayo," which means literally, "Honorable 
 early" ; or if translated into Irish it would be: ''The top o' 
 the mornin' to yez!" 
 
 It is said an Ohio statesman was once sent to a certiiin 
 port in Japan as consul. As he lande<l on the shores of the 
 country which was to be his home lie heard one and another 
 
 ! ! 
 
198 
 
 BY RAIL TO TOKIO. 
 
 say in vory good Enj^^lisli as Ik^ thought, Oliio (Oluiyo). "I 
 dochiro," siiid this son of the iiiickc^ye stato, "1 know they 
 were a well <!ducat<;d j)e()})le in this land, l)ut I didn't su})poso 
 they knew tlu; vc.vy state I came iVoni." 
 
 A i'l'iend of iiiitui ttjjls me that his Japanese servant eanio 
 to him one day and saiti, as Ik; bowed low to tlu; floor, "Will 
 my most worthy master suflV;)' his most humble servant to 
 visit ilu! honorable^ bath that la; may wash his (ilthy body?" 
 It is ikhmIIcss to say that after such a [)olite r(!(juest permis- 
 sion was at once granted. 
 
 Jai)an(;se polit(in<!ss consists not only in loading the ])er- 
 sons spoken to with all kinds of com|)lim(!iitary adjectives, 
 but also in d('|)r<!ciating one's sell'. Such a collo(piy as this is 
 often heard in ,Iiipanes(! highways: 
 
 "How is your honorabhi wih; this morning?" 
 
 "f thaidc you, honorabh; sii', my fool of a wife is very 
 well this moi'niug.'" 
 
 And y(!t the second sjx'akcsr may be a most loving and 
 exeni[)lai'y husband; lit; only wishes to be ])roi)ei'ly ])olit(; in 
 depr(!ciating his own. 
 
 Ther(! is not v<!ry much to detain (me in Yokoluima, and 
 we will soon tak(i the train for Tokio, distant oiu; hour by 
 I'ail. 'J'hcrc; seeuis to be; an incongi-uily Ixitween the rush- 
 ing, bustling lif(^ of a I'ailway station, and the Oriental 
 throngs that ci'owd it. The woodcni clogs, woi-n by men, 
 Women, and children, clatt(!r on tlu; stone Moor of the station 
 like so many castan(!ts and make: almost a, <lcafening sound. 
 Instead of s|)i'uce business men and "tailor-made gii'ls," such 
 as oiu! is accustomed to see thronging our' i'ailway cars at 
 home, people clad in practically the same gai'b which was in 
 fashion a thousand years ago, step into thest; most moderi of 
 all vehicles to Ix; whii'led away as fast as steam can carry 
 them. Something seems to be out of place; whether the 
 
PKOfJKESSIVE MODKllN JAPAN. 
 
 10!) 
 
 Jjipanftso costuiiio and woochjn clo'^s, oi- our uinctfu'ntli cen- 
 tiu'v ni()(l(; of Icjcomotion, I sliall not pi'etiMid to say. 
 
 However, there seonis to \h) iio tliong-Iit of incon<^ruity on 
 tlu! ])art of our fellow j)as.s('n;.<ei*s, foi' tli(! Japanese Irive 
 tak(!n to raili'oads and steamships, to teh^phones and eh;cti'ic 
 liglits, as thouf^h ih(\y wc^re to the manner horn. 
 
 Th(i mod(;i'n .)apanes<! is nothin<^' if not j)i'o<^ressive. 
 Every new inv(Uition, evc^ry hitest hihoi'-savin<^ contrivance^ 
 he is ready to <'xaniine and adopt if it commends itself to 
 Ids judgment. Well-appointed I'ailroads coniUH-t one end of 
 Japan with another. A |)erf('ct network of t('legra,|)h wii'es 
 €onne(!t all leading cities, hmandescent electric lights (jften 
 flash from the most ]iuml)le stores and dwcdlings. In tla; 
 leading cities the })ostman delivers his message six timers a 
 day, and wluirever we go we find that Ja,j)an\s senses are all 
 alert to the first intimations of pi'ogress in any direction. 
 
 In some n^spects th<5 Japanese; I'ailway system is even 
 ))(!tter than ours. At least, more ruiv. is taken of life; and 
 liml), no gi'ade crossings ai'(! allowe^d at stations, and fatal 
 accideids an; of veiy rai'(! occu)'r<'Mce. 
 
 The cars ai'e mostly after the iMiglish pattern, and di- 
 vided into llrst, sin-ond, and third-class compartments. The 
 iirst-class compartnmnts are very rai'ely used in .Japan, even 
 by "lords, fools, and Amei-icans." In fact, after riding 
 many hundred nnles on .Japanese railroads, I rememl)ei' to 
 have s(HMi hut a singh; occupant of a, lirst-edass carriage. 
 The second-chiss is used somewhat spai'ingiy, whilethe third- 
 class on eveiy train is crowded with vivacious .Japanese 
 ti'avelers. 
 
 As glass is a modern inv(Mition which, strangely enough, 
 lias not heen largely introduced into countiy districts, Jap- 
 anese windows generally being made of rice papei*, the glass 
 car windows in third-class compai'tments avo crossed with 
 
200 
 
 OUR FELLOW PASSENGERS. 
 
 i 
 
 lines of white paint, so that native travelers from the rural 
 districts, who never saw glass before, may not unwittingly 
 put their heads through the windows. The bills of the Im- 
 perial Eailway Co7iipany for broken glass became so lai'ge 
 that at last this device for showing the rural passenger that 
 there Avas something between him and the outside world 
 was adopted. 
 
 If you please, my readers, we will take a second-class 
 car to Tokio, and, without being rude, we can furtively ex- 
 amine our fellow passengers and their attire. After a few 
 days we shall become so accustomed to the national dress 
 it will be difficult for us to describe it ; so we must make 
 the most of our first impressions. 
 
 On the seat in front of us is a Japanese gentleman in 
 European clothes, but his ill-fitting coat and shabby Derljy 
 hat are not nearly so picturesque as the garments of the 
 friend by his side. Not being a woman or a man milliner, I 
 cannot describe these garments with very good effect, but 
 must content myself with saying that our Japanese-clad fel- 
 low passenger wears tight-fitting trousers, nearly hidden by 
 a loose upper garment coming nearly to his feet, and bound 
 about the Avaist by a kind of scarf. 
 
 In fact, our friend on the opposite seat, since it is cold 
 weather, seems to wear several upper garments, for this is a 
 way the Japanese have of keeping warm. They do not 
 build fires or introduce steam heat, or even close their win- 
 dows and doors, but they add one garment to another, until 
 it is difficult to tell how large the kernel under the many 
 husks ma}" be. The story is told of a professor in a famous^ 
 school Avho had the reputation of wearing more clothes than 
 any other man on the faculty. The students, exaggerating 
 the truth, as students Avill, circulated the story that he com- 
 monly wore thirty -one suits of clothes. A friend of mine 
 
SCPERFLUOUS COATS. 
 
 301 
 
 made bold to approacli him on the subject, telling him the 
 story that was circulating among the students, whereupon 
 he gravely replied that lie could not account for such a 
 report, as he had never, to his knowledge, worn more tlum 
 thirteen suits at one time, unless the students had transposed 
 the ligures (31 for 13), and so the mistake liad arisen. 
 
 But the gentleman in front of us in the car probably 
 wears not more than half a dozen garments on this journey, 
 and makes up for his superfluous coats by wearing nothing 
 
 i 
 
 DRESS OP JAPANESE WOMEN, SHOWING THE OIU. 
 
 on his head. On entering the car he slips off his wooden 
 shoes very easily, as they are only held on his feet by a cord 
 passing between his big toe and the next one ; then, putting 
 his stocking feet on the foot-warmer filled with hot water, 
 the onl}^ method of heating these cars, he settles himself 
 comfortably for his journey. 
 
 Not far from the gentleman opposite sits his wife. Her 
 garments are, of course, quite beyond my powers of descrip- 
 tion. It is only necessary to say that they are loose, flow- 
 ing, and graceful, and that on her back is a curious affair 
 13 
 
20'^ 
 
 AN INDICATION OP RANK. 
 
 called an " obi," or sash, on which she greatly prides her- 
 self. It is made of linest silk, and her rank in society is 
 very largely indicated by the obi which she wears. Her 
 head, too, is bare, though her profusion of black haii is so 
 fantastically arranged that she does not need any other 
 head-gear. On her feet are the same kind of clumsy wooden 
 shoes her husband Avears. 
 
 Between them is their little child, the joy and pride, 
 
 A RURAL SCENE IN JAPAN. 
 
 doubtless, of the father's and mother's heart. He is arrayed 
 in a most gorgeous suit, a miniature reproduction of his 
 mother's, only in brighter colors. Joseph himself was not 
 more favored when a boy than this little Japanese lad. 
 
 But the objects of special interest are not all within the 
 car windows, by any means. "We never get tired of the 
 ever-changing panorama without, made up of mountain and 
 meadow, forest trees and cultivated fields, bright costumes 
 and quaint cottages, and many a scene of rustic comfort and 
 content. 
 
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 32 
 
A CHARMING PANORAMA. 
 
 205 
 
 il. ? 
 
 
 
 
 
 One of the most interesting sights is a tea plantation. 
 Many of these we skirt in our railway journeys in Japan. 
 The long row of tea plants look like the bunches of box with 
 which the borders of old-fashioned flower garcbns were once 
 made, only the tea plants are much larger. AVhen the crop is 
 matured the tea garden is full of pickers, native men and 
 women, in bright costumes, working side by side, their gay 
 attire contrasting prettily with the fresh green of the tea 
 leaves. Tliese bright beings, who, we fear, are not as radi- 
 ant as they look, stop their work as the train rumbles by, to 
 gaze after the retreating cars, stirred by the same wonder 
 which a rushing railway train always excites in every part 
 of the world, however common the sight may be. 
 
 Thus we journey on, stopping at picturesque little vil- 
 lages, with thatch-roofed cottages; past miles and miles 
 of fields cultivated with most accurate nicety, every one 
 looking like a market garden in the suburbs of a great city ; 
 past beautiful bamboo forests ; past shrines and large tem- 
 ples and emblems of Butldhist worship, set up, as m the days 
 of old, " under every green tree " ; past beautiful hills and 
 fertile valleys, winding rivers and canals teeming with life, 
 until, all too soon, so interesting is this brief journey, the 
 cars roll into the station of the great city of Tokio — the 
 largest in all the realm, the capital of the kingdom, the Mi- 
 kado's city of the Mikado's empire. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MIKADO'S CITY AND THE MIKADO'S SUBJECTS. 
 
 Tokio, its Pfxrks, its Temples, and its Palace — Its University — A Study 
 of Fish Parasites — What AMssionaries have done — The Seisniologleal 
 Department — An Artittcl..! Earthquake — Exceptional Earthquake 
 Privileges — Wheat and Chaflf — Canton and Tokio, or China venus 
 Japan — The Frenchman of the East — A Japanese House — No Doors, 
 No Windows, No Chimneys — A AValk in a Country Village — The 
 Country Bakery — A Rice Mill — Division of Labor — An Initiation into 
 the Art of Orange Eating — The Japanese Shoe Shop — The Villainous 
 Daikon — Prices in Japan — A Pot of Tea for Two Cents — A Japanese 
 Dinner in a Japanese Hotel — The Curious Crowds at the Window — 
 Character Studies — The Motornien of the East — Surprising Endurance 
 
 — The Hilarious Jinrikisha Men — The Waitress and her Odd Position 
 
 — Paying our Reckoning. 
 
 lAMOUS and imposing as are its 
 many "lions," the one tiling that 
 impressed me most strongly in 
 Tokio was the Imperial Univer- 
 sity. To find in this Oriental 
 land a university in many re- 
 spects the peer of Cambridge or 
 Oxford, Heidelberg or Harvard, 
 is a surprise to most people who 
 considered themselves tolerably 
 well versed in Japanese affairs. 
 The buildings of the Imperial 
 University, to be sure, are not equal to the venerable piles 
 which lend their ancient charm to an English or German 
 University town ; but even in buildings and equipment the 
 
 Imperial University of Japan is not far behind many vener- 
 
 (306) 
 
 
A scientist's ambition. ?07 
 
 able schools of other hinds. IJut when one comes to examine 
 the work in biology, chemistry, the science of engineering, 
 and other departments of learning leading to j)ractical re- 
 sults, he finds this is not a whit behind the great schools of 
 the world. 
 
 In the biological department we saw a graduate student 
 famous the world over for his studies of fish parasites. For 
 years he has been making microscopic examinations of these 
 minute enemies whicli })rey upon the finny tribe, and his re- 
 searches have provoked the favorable comment of scientiiic 
 men in all parts of the world. As I approached his labora- 
 tory he had just discovered a new parasite, which he showed 
 me with considerable satisfaction, imprisoned as it was 
 between the glasses of his slide. He expects to devote his 
 life to the study of fish parasites, though he is gradually 
 coming to the belief tiiat his ambition has taken too wide a 
 range, and that he ought to devote himself to the parasites 
 of 7narine fish altogether. 
 
 As he is now a very young man, with doubtless forty or 
 fifty years of hard work before him, I should think that he 
 might before he dies make considerable progress in the ])ur- 
 suit of his favorite study, if he confines himself to a suffi- 
 ciently narrow range. I sincerely hope that my friend of 
 the Imperial University will not have the same cause for re- 
 gret as the famous Greek student of the dative case, who 
 reproached himself on his death-bed that he had taken so 
 large a subject and had not devoted himself altogether to 
 the dative case of the Greek article. This example does not 
 stand alone. In other departments also the same careful 
 and highly specialized work is accomplished. 
 
 In the early days the University was manned largely by 
 foreign professors, and the chief credit for its establishment 
 and progress is due largely to Christian missionaries, as was 
 
208 
 
 BARTHgUAKE PRIVILEGES. 
 
 the case with almost every liigh ^nu\o (ioUc^o in tlio far 
 P^iist. In .liipun os|)(>(;iiil honor is (Uio to Dr, Vrrhock of the 
 J)utc:h Ktifoi'incd IJoanI, wiio, in the b«'<:;innin^, more than 
 any otlicr man iiilhuMUMid tiu^ ^ovornnicnt in the estal)lish- 
 incnt and (hivclopnicnt of i\w university idea. Of lato 
 years, liowever, as in all other depai'lnionts, the ^overnnunit 
 is hrin;^in<i^ the Iinpei-ial University and ail lower scliools 
 nioi'e and more un«ler the control of .lapanes(! teachers. 
 "Jajjan for the Japanese," is the cry of recent days, and 
 forei<^n teacliers are lar<^ely bein;^ dischai'^ed and their 
 places filled by native Japanese, even in the teaching of the 
 English lan<rua<^e itscsif. While willin*^ to adopt everything* 
 that tliey think is best in modern civilization, the Jajjanese 
 are evidently bound to be free from de[)endence on foreign- 
 ers at tin; earliest possible moment. 
 
 As one walks throu<^h the halls, enters the spacious 
 library, and views the splendid e<iuipment of the engineering 
 de])artnient of the university, he stands amazed at tiie 
 modern progress of this ancient nation. There is no j)haso 
 of scientiUc thought familiar to the Western world which is 
 not almost ecpially familiar to this Island Empire of the 
 Orient. Every latest conti-ivance, every labor-saving ma- 
 chine is examined and a])propriated if considered worthy. 
 In the Seism()h)gical department of the university are prob- 
 ably the most accurate and delicate instruments for comput- 
 ing the direction and vibration of earthquakes to be found in 
 the world. The professor in this department set the delicate 
 clock-like machinery in motion for us, thus producing a 
 miniature artificial eartluiuake that we might see how the 
 nicely adjusted nuichines, with their automatic fingers, 
 marked the slightest vibration in the earth's crust. Tokio, 
 by the way, is a very favorable place for such a de})ai'tment 
 of study, for scores of times a year it thrills and (juakes with 
 
THE CROWN OK JAPAN H CIVILIZATION. 
 
 209 
 
 Hubtorraneiin niovonu'iits. In lact its cnrtlKiuuko opportu- 
 nitios iuv uni(pio uiul excoptioiial. 
 
 Tlui contnist l)otwcon tho ('liiiu'so and -lapaiioso is dis- 
 cerned by no one nioro plaiidy than by him who travels 
 direct from Canton to Tokio. In the former city is n'pre- 
 sented tho old educational system <jt' tlui Orient, in the 
 dro.iry exumiiuition hall, with its ehiven hundred cells, empty 
 and desei'ted, except for nine days, in tin? coui-so of three 
 years. The su[)remo test of scholarship durin<^ those nine 
 days of examination is, as I have already stated, the ability 
 to write an essay on some t(;xt of Confucius ; the sole stand- 
 ard for civil service pi'omotion, a •^•ood literary style, and 
 ai)tness to write some incomprehensible pa'^es upon an un- 
 fathomabUi subject. No lan<^ua^('s are studied there, no In- 
 ductive Philosophy, no Chemistry, niol()<,^y, Geolof^y, liotany, 
 no engineering or mining departments, no instruction in 
 shi|)-l)uilding or architecture ; but on(; dreary monotonous 
 griiul on Ccmfucius and Confucianism. The old sage still 
 dominates every man, wonuin, and child in China, excei)t 
 tho few who are emancipated by tho religion of (Jhrist. 
 
 In Japan how dilferent ! Here arc railroads and steam- 
 boats, th(5 latest electrical invotitions, and most nu)dern theo- 
 ries of ship-building aiul mining, agriculture and the me- 
 chanic arts, and the crown of all this modern civilization is 
 the Im})erial University of Tokio. Here Confucius takes 
 the back seat, and Galileo and Fi-ancis JJacon, Isaac Kewton 
 and Ilerschel, Huxley and Darwin come to the front. 
 
 Perhaps this smUleu advance in modern civilization is 
 not altogether an unmixed good. Doubtless numy evils 
 have followed in the train of this nineteenth century civiliz- 
 ation which has svept with such a con(|U(n'ing march over 
 the empire oi Japan, Doubtless there has been much chaff 
 mixed with the wheat, and sometimes, in all probability, the 
 
D""IH^JL" 
 
 310 
 
 THE FRENCHMAN OF THE OLD WORLD. 
 
 wheat lias been ilii-own away, and tlu^ clialT of false ])liil- 
 osopliy and materialism i-etained. Nevertheless, the con- 
 trast between tlie thousand-year-old Examination Hall of 
 Canton and the Imperial University of Tokio ivveals the 
 inherent diifei'encc between the two <ri'eat nations of the 
 Orient. Eno;lisli-speaking ])eo])le are too a[)t to lump 
 Orientals together, and to see but little difi'ei-ence between 
 the almond-eyed nations of the Avorld. 
 
 An American religious pa])er once gravely announced 
 that "llev. Mr. So-and-So was al)out to start as a missionary 
 to China and Ja])an," as though either of these nations w(M'e 
 not quite enough to tax tlu^ ])owors of the averages Ameri- 
 can missionary. As a matter of fact, lliei'e is far more dif- 
 ference between the Chinese and Japanese than betw(>en the 
 Englishman and Frenchman, or the (Jerman aiul Russian. 
 
 The Japanese is the Frenchman of the Old AVorld, as has 
 often been renuirked ; volatile, mercurial, easily moved to 
 adopt a new ])lan, but often iickle in his rent(Miti()n of it, he 
 is endowed with the sti-ong ])oints, and doubtless many of 
 the weaknesses, of the (Jeltic nations of Eurojjc. lo watch 
 the development of this new France in these Eastern seas 
 will be a most interesting studv for the future ethnolooist. 
 
 In one respect, however, Japan is different from France, 
 i'oi- it ])ossesses no vast ca])ital of overwhelming importance, 
 like J'aris. If ''Paris is France," Tokio, though the most 
 important city, is by no means Japan. 
 
 A few days after our arrival in Yokohama we took a 
 journey into i-ui'al Japan, llei-e in tlu^ country districts we 
 find the Japanese at home. He has adopted no foreign cos- 
 tume, and ])ut on no Parisian aii-s. He has the telegraph 
 and electric light, to be sure, and in many ])laces the rail- 
 road train ; but in all essential particulars the Ja|)an of to- 
 day is the Jaj)an of a thousand yeai's ago. 
 
A VILT.A(JE STREET. 
 
 211 
 
 Lot me tiiko you on a walU this l)i'i<j;lit, crisp I)e('(nnl)or 
 morning through ii vilhigt; street in .lapiin — such a viUago 
 street as Iluive seen a liuiuli'ed times (hu'ing my brief stay 
 in that fair land. The viUage hoasts no buildings of archi- 
 
 IN WINTKlt I'OSTt'Mi;. 
 
 tectural ])retenti()ns, unk'ss, ]HM'h;ii)s, it contains an old 
 ])alace of ])ainiio times. Even if it does, th(> palace is 
 prohabl}'^ deserted and falling into I'uin, though its nuissivo 
 ■walls, wide water-lilled moats, and pagoda-liUe stori(>s still 
 tell of its former magnillcence in feudal times. 
 
212 
 
 HOUSEKEEPING MADE EASY. 
 
 As for the rest of the village, the houses generall}' are 
 very humble and unpretentious, usually one-story high, with 
 a heavy thatched or tiled roof, and defended' from the 
 weather by thin paper screens. A modern writer has said 
 that " Japanese houses have no walls, no windows, and no 
 chimneys.'" Take away these essentials, and one may well 
 ask what Avould be left but a huge dry-goods box. This, 
 however, is somewhat of an exaggeration, for the moval)le 
 rice paper screens answer very Avell for partition walls, and 
 the rice paper screens themselves, though opaque, answer for 
 Avindows, through which a " dim religious light " manages 
 to find its way. As for the chimneys, what need is there 
 of them when the stoves contain no blaze and no smoke, but 
 simply a little handful of coals in the middle of a bed of 
 sand i If we get a glimpse into one of the Japanese houses 
 Ave are passing, Ave shall see very little furniture ; tAvo or 
 three warm quilts for each person, a small flat cushion on 
 which he may sit, two or three " hibachis " or fire boxes, a 
 few little tables not more than six inches high, and some 
 lamps, cups, bonds, tubs, and saucepans complete the house- 
 hold furniture. One will see no chairs, knives, forks, or 
 s])oons, no carpets nor rugs, no ])icturos on the Avails. How- 
 ever, there are some verv good substitutes for all these neces- 
 sary articles. The screens are often beautifully painted, and 
 scrolls on the walls, changed often, add life and color to the 
 room. There are no chairs, to l)e sure, but what does one 
 Avant of a chair Avhen he can sit on the soles of his feet i 
 And as for knives, forks, and spoons, chopsticks are quite as 
 handy Avhen one knows how to use them, and far less trou- 
 blesome. What Avould not oui" jVmerican housewives, who 
 are " cumbered with much serving," and grow ])rematurcly 
 old with much dish- washing, give for these neat and inex- 
 pensive sid)stitutes for table cutlevN' I 
 
 P-K 
 

 
 OQ =■ ^ 
 
 c ■ • 
 
 ^ — ni 
 
. 
 
NO CHARGE FOR SHOWING GOODS. 
 
 215 
 
 We may not linger too long at the open doorway of this 
 Japanese house lest we be deemed impolite even by these 
 people, Avho themselves have more than their fair share of 
 "Yankee curiosity," so Ave will pass on to have a look at 
 some of the stores, which are open to the inspection of the 
 passer-by. There are no sliow windows, for the whole store 
 is one show window with all its goods on exhibition. Here 
 is a bakery, for instance, with many kinds of thin, tempting- 
 looking wafers, and nmch gaudy candy, which one finds, on 
 investigation, has for its largest component rice flour with a 
 very small modicum of sugar. There are bushel baskets 
 full of rolls and little loaves with variegated streaks of green 
 and red running through them. If we should go a little 
 ways into the country we should find the rice flour mill 
 where the chief ingredient of these showy little cakes was 
 made. Here, under the same projecting roof, one coolie 
 threshes the rice straw over the iron teeth of a primitive flail, 
 which looks like a carpenter's Avooden horse, while another 
 winnows the grain by pouring it over a rude sieve, allowing 
 the wind to blow away the chaff, while still another coolie 
 grinds the rice in a mill laboriously turned by hand. IS^ext 
 to the bakery comes a fruit store, perhaps, where one sees 
 tempting piles of "kid glove" oranges, great, luscious, rosy 
 persimmons, yellow loquots, and })iles of little oranges not 
 bigger than the end of one's thumb. 
 
 But my readers will pardon a digression here, for Avhile 
 looking at these tempting piles of Japanese fruit, I Avill 
 initiate him into tlie process of eating a Japanese orange. 
 Every nation has its ]>eculiar method of extracting the juices 
 of this tempting fruit. Perha])s nations might be classified 
 according to their ways of eating oranges. The American, 
 at least the hotel-patronizing American, cuts his "Florida" 
 in two in the middle, scoo})s out the rich juice with his 
 
 
21G 
 
 THE POLITE ART OF ORANGE EATING. 
 
 orange spoon, and acconi])lishes his task deftly and neatly. 
 The Australian cuts into eight sections the ])roduct of his 
 semi-tropical groves and is thus able to eat his breakfast 
 fruit with great ex])edition. The small boy of all nations 
 bores a hole in the end of his orange and unceremoniously 
 sucks its contents, leaving the fair looking skin dry and 
 juiceless. The Japanese orange, however, may be eaten like 
 a gra])e, as it naturally falls a])ai't into a dozen different 
 
 A JAPANESE FHUIT STOKE. 
 
 wedge-shaped segments. The expert grasps the thin end of 
 the wedge lirmly between his thumb and first finger, presses 
 the juicy section, held perpendicularly and not horizontally, 
 between his teeth, and thus in the twinkling of an eye 
 extracts all the sweetness from the skin of one section. 
 Thus he treats section after section of his orange, eating 
 them as rapidly as so many Ilambui'g grapes. In fact, an 
 expert "orangeman" will make nothing of getting through 
 
 i 
 
CLOGS AND STRAW SANDALS. 
 
 217 
 
 six specimens of this luscious Japanese fruit while the aver- 
 age American is toilsoiiiely digging out the pulp from a 
 single native of the orange groves of Floritla or California. 
 Just beyond the fruit store is a barber slK)p, for hair cut- 
 ting and shaving is a great business in Jai)an. As in the 
 other stores, everything is open to the daylight, there are no 
 screens, no windows, no partitions. The shop is simply a 
 recess from the sidewalk where the barber and his customer 
 are sitting, while other customei's are waiting the familiar 
 "next." 
 
 JAPANESE UMUKELLA MAKEIl. 
 
 Then comes a shoe store, perhaps, but we see no "Oxford 
 ties" or top boots, "Dongolas" or russet tennis shoes dis- 
 })layed; but instead we see rows upon roAvs of heavy 
 wooden clogs, mud shoes on wooden stilts three or four 
 inches high, and long festoons of straw sandals hanging 
 fi'om the ceiling. These sandals are nothing but soles, for 
 tiiere is no need of an upper to protect the foot, but simply a 
 strap passing between the big toe and its next neighbor, by 
 
•218 
 
 BY MARKET AND WORKSHOP. 
 
 which the sandul is dexterously held in i)luee. Perlia])s the 
 shoe dealer also trades in stockings and we iind a hu-fre 
 assortment of curious foot-wear made of cloth and not knit 
 like the stockings of foreigners, but sewed together with 
 a compartment especially nuule for tiie big toe by itself to 
 fit the shoes and sandals already described. Kext to the 
 shoe store is an umbrella factory, and near by is a vegetable 
 market. Here Ave find a very good sui)i)ly of the vegetables 
 of the season. Sweet ]wtatoes are common aiul cheap, sold 
 not only raw but also at almost everv street corner, smokino- 
 hot from the pot or nicely browned from the brazier. Pars- 
 nips and cabbage, onions and celery, spinach and lettuce 
 also find a i)lace in these stores. 
 
 Everywhere one sees piles of the succulent 'Ulaihm''; 
 along the railroad stations, in the fields, borne upon the stag- 
 gering shoulders of men and women, loaded upon bullock 
 carts, strung upon great ro])es and stretched between trees 
 and posts to dry, cut up and spread upon the house roofs for 
 desiccation, until one is tempted after all these sights to call 
 Ja])an, not the land of the chrysanthemum, but the country 
 of the daikon. Of course, the green grocer whose store we 
 are inspecting has a large assortment of this favorite vegeta- 
 ble on hand. The daikon is a sort of radish, and is of two 
 varieties, one very long, sometimes nearly two feet in length 
 and six inches through, while the other specimen looks like a 
 turnip of gigantic proportions. How it tastes we shall iind 
 out when we come to eat our dinner at a Japanese hotel. 
 
 As we pass another open recess in the street we see a 
 potter at work with his wheel ; still another alcove shows 
 an umbrella-maker ; a third reveals a rake-maker plying his 
 task with strips of stiff bamboo for the rakes' teeth, while a 
 fourth is busy raaldng the lanterns which form such a pictur- 
 esque and striking feature of night life in Japan. 
 
THE PARADISE OF LEAN POCKETBOOKS. 
 
 219 
 
 
 Let us stop and make a few ])in'cliase8 as Ave pass some 
 of these odd and temi)tin<^' stoi'es. Your pockets and mine, 
 my reader, are not very large, ])ei'lia])s, but .ra))an is tlie])ar- 
 adise of lean ])()cket books. For instance, we will take home 
 to show our fi'iends the f(jot gear of this interesting people, 
 one pair of straw sandals, one of Avooden shoes, and still 
 another of high clogs for muddy weather, and three pairs of 
 stockings to go Avith our shoes. Our ])urchascs make quite 
 
 IN A .JAPANESE llAHUEK SUOl*. 
 
 a formidable looking bundle, and we fear Ave may not haA'^e 
 change enough to pay for our curiosities. But Ave are quite 
 relieved to find that all our goods come to only seventeen 
 sen, fiKQ rin, something less than 12i cents. 
 
 Everywhere in Japan, except on the foreign concessions, 
 these cheap prices prevail. For instance, at the railroad sta- 
 tion I purchased an earthen teapot, holding at least a quart 
 of hot tea and Avith a cup thrown in, for the extravagant 
 price of three sen, or about two cents, United States currency. 
 
220 A DOZEN ORANGES FOR ONE SEN. 
 
 Desiring to have some unneeessarv liirsute appendages 
 removed, I was told that the price of liair cutting in the 
 Japanese sakion where I proposed to go was two sen, and if 
 I wanted to be shaved, I must deplete my pocket book to 
 the extent of one sen more, or something like six and one- 
 half mills for a clean shave. If, however, I desired the 
 barber to come to my house to perform his task, I would be 
 obliged to pay him the enormous sum of six sen (United 
 States money about four cents) for his extra trouble. 
 
 The jinriksha man will run for a good hour toiling up 
 steep hills and over rough roads, and at the end of the live- 
 mile journey, with the sweat pouring down his back, will 
 bow his most gracious thanks if presented with the value of 
 a ten-cent })iece. One feels that he is taking advantage of an 
 innocent and unsuspecting youth when lie first pays such a 
 trifling sum for such a large service, but these jinriksha men, 
 like their brethren of the horsey fraternity all over the 
 world, have their eye teeth cut, and it is more likely that he 
 hus taken you in to the extent of a few rin, than that he is 
 in any way underpaid. 
 
 At one time I handed a railway platform peddler a cop- 
 per sen (less than one cent), and with various motions gave 
 him to understand I desired the value of the coin in the 
 oranges which he held in his tray, whereupon he passed into 
 the car window orange after orange until a round tlozen lay 
 on the seat beside me. Had I been aware that I Avas 
 making so large a purchase I would have invested but half 
 the sum at one time. It must be confessed, however, that 
 the oranges were not very large, and a hungry little boy by 
 my side soon disposed of the whole purchase. 
 
 Now, if we have sufficiently explored our village street^ 
 let us go into a Japanese hotel and have dinner, for sight- 
 seeing is hungry work. We will leave our shoes at the door, 
 
DINNER AT A TOY HOTEL. 
 
 991 
 
 
 i 
 
 for it would bo almost profanity to bring our muddy foot- 
 wear into this immaculate little toy hotel. 
 
 The floor is covered with soft, heavy matting, as spotless 
 as table damask, and three or four hihac/i'tH are set around in 
 different parts of the room to take the chill from the frosty 
 atmosphere, which the paper screens very freely admit. 
 But still wo are cold, in spite of the few little piles of glow- 
 ing charcoal, and our host opens another screen door, show- 
 ing his h>t<ihu, simply a s(iuare hole in the middle of the 
 room, filled with sand, upon which is a little larger ])ile of 
 glowing charcoal. Over this hole is spread a large, thick 
 quilt or ^''futo/i,"^ and under this futon we all stick our feet, 
 and the genial Avarmth from the kotatsu being all econo- 
 mized, our lower extremities are soon quite warm, while avo 
 hold our 'iands over the hibachis, and so are soon glowing 
 Avith Avarmth at both extremities, whatever nuiy be true of 
 the rest of our bodies. 
 
 While Ave have been getting Avarm, dinner lias been cook- 
 ing, and noAV a Japanese damsel brings it in on red lacquer 
 trays. This solemn proceeding is preceded by a very low 
 boAv, the Avaitress falling on her knees and touching the mat- 
 ting Avith her forehead before each one of us. Then she 
 presents the dinner tray as though making an offering to the 
 gods. 
 
 In the trav is a bowl of steaming rice " Avithout an\' 
 trimmings,'' as one of our party remarked ; no sugar, salt, or 
 condiments of any kind being eaten Avith the rice, except 
 such as Ave find in the boAvl of thin soup accompanying it. 
 In this soup is a little Avad of boiled si)inacli, several largo 
 mushrooms, and a slice of an indescribable mixture nuule of 
 fish and eggs, Avhicli is not altogether unpalatable if one has 
 courage to investigate it. 
 
 Besides the soup and rice, the tray contains a large cup 
 
 14 
 
222 
 
 AN EXECRABLE PICKLE. 
 
 of lima boans, lianl and unsavory, a saucor of fish Avith a 
 little "soi" by its side, and tlio inovitablo daikon. Tiiis 
 daikon is not the radisli in its first estate, fresh from tlio 
 dewy fields, but a most execrable kind of fermented ])ickle. 
 It looks white and fair enough to tempt the most delicate 
 appetite, but its taste wofully belies its toothsome appear- 
 ance. Some one has described it as a cross between spoiled 
 sauerkraut and decayed Limburger cheese, and perhaps 
 
 THE VILLAINOUS DAIKON. 
 
 there is no better description, on the whole, for this most 
 villainous of vegetables. 
 
 However, when the gourmand of our own country eats 
 his "high game" and "woodcock trail," and rejoices in 
 his sauerkraut and Limburger, who shall say the Japa- 
 nese partiality for pickled daikon is more absurd than the 
 gastronomic whims of the American or European epicure? 
 However, the most "diflHcult" appetite need not go unsatis- 
 fied even in a Japanese hotel, for the oranges are delicious, 
 and the tea is always hot and good even if minus milk and 
 sugar. 
 
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INTKUESTINO TO Ol TSIDKUS. 
 
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 "Wliilo \V(i tii'o oiitiji^- our (liuiict' in tins toy toa-houso 
 a gi-ouj) of iiKjuirin^- urcliiiis ^atlicrs at tlu^ window outside. 
 If tlu'v arci intiM'cstcd iu us, we ai'(^ (juilc as much intcivstod 
 in tluMii, and cxti'art. i\o less fun from \\\{- insjUH'tiou tliaii 
 thoy do tluMnsclvcs. As in most such ci-owds in (>vcry hind, 
 th(5 "^iinall hoy" predominates. \'ery often he has a, 
 smaHcj' boy upon his hack, foi' cliihlren ai-e put to work 
 early in tliis hincL Th(^ litthi f«»Uow on his brother's back, 
 thou<^h but a few months ohl, is (piite crontcmt with his 
 elevated })osition, aiul evidently has a, mild curiosity in re- 
 gard to the foi'eignei's who are makin<^' such awkward work 
 with their chop-sticks. 
 
 Sometimes the baby has anotluM' doll baby on his back, 
 and I liavo actually schmi a small doll on the l)i^- doll's back, 
 the big doll on the small boy's back, and thi^ snudl boy on 
 his l)ig brother's back; four generations, as it were, to- 
 gether. 
 
 Hut curiosity is not confined to the small fry altogether. 
 Their fathers and mothers look in u|)on us with wondei'ing 
 eyes; the street peddler draws n(»ar and forgets to ha,wk his 
 wares for a few moments; the swoi'd juggl(»r who ])er- 
 and)ulates the street with loud cries and extravagant antics 
 for the sake of drawing a (irowd to his entei'tainnuMit, seems 
 more interested in thes(i strange people who have descended 
 upon his native village than in his own jxM'formance. 
 
 By stop[)ing to gaze upon us one curiosity mongei' at- 
 tracts another until the wholes dooi'way is filled, and wo 
 begin to feel ourselves the observed of all observei's. How- 
 ever, it is a very good-natured inspection, and as I have said, 
 wo repay it with intm-est. For (>very dirty-faced little street 
 ganun, and every scald-headed baby (for many of them, I 
 am sorry to say, lusve some soi't of scalp disease), (»very bare- 
 headed, open-eyed bumpkin, evc;y black-toot 1m'<1 nuirriod 
 
32G 
 
 BEGGARS AND MOTOR-MEN. 
 
 woman, and every sweet-faced ''musmee" (for there are 
 many pretty f^irls among them) is an especial study. 
 
 In this throng at the liotel doorway (if it is proper to 
 •^eak of a doorway when the whole side of the house is one 
 great doorway) we are likely to get a glimpse of a Buddhist 
 
 priest with his queer head- 
 gear and closely shaven head. 
 Very likely he is a beggar 
 priest with a little gong 
 which he continually beats, 
 and a big receptacle for the 
 offerings of the faithful. 
 Other beggars wear a pecu- 
 liar kind of hat like an in- 
 verted bushel basket, which 
 comes down over the head 
 almost to the shoulders. 
 
 "We also have among our 
 auditors several bare-leggod 
 jinrikisha men, with their red 
 blankets wrapped around 
 their shoulders, giving a 
 touch of color to the scene, 
 and leading one to diink for an instant, as he glances out upon 
 the crowd, that he is on an Indian reservation in the far 
 West. These jinrikisha men deserve a whole chapter to 
 themselves, for they form a very large section of the popu- 
 lation, besides furnishing a very important convenience to 
 the traveling public. They are the hack men and motor- 
 men, the horse-car drivers, and liorses and electric motors 
 combined, of the far East. The jinrikislia was invented 
 twenty-five years ago, by a Baptist missionary, tiiough the 
 date and title to the invention is disputed by some. 
 
 .,\\-1''Hli 
 
 A JAPANESE PEASANT. 
 
AN EXAGGERATED BABY CARRIAGE. 
 
 227 
 
 It seems strange that this inventive and progi-essive 
 people did not find such an important and convenient means 
 of conveyance long before, for horses are almost unknown in 
 Japan, except in the army, mules are entirely a minus quan- 
 tity, and cows do not afford a very swift or delightful 
 means of travel. The roads, moreover, are excellent 
 throughout the emi)ire, and are just fitted for these light 
 and tiny one-man vehicles. AVithin a twelve-month after its 
 introduction the jinrikisha had become common in the large 
 cities of Japan, and within two years its use became uni- 
 versal. After getting along for five thousand years under a 
 single dynasty without any such convenient mode of loco- 
 motion, the nation was evidently ripe for the introduction 
 of this exaggerated baby carriage. As mushrooms spring 
 up in a night Avhere the evening before there Avas no sign of 
 a growing fungus, so the jinrikisha has suddenly appeared in 
 all parts of Japan, and with it came the jinrikisha-man, who 
 is now an institution that could not possibly be dispensed 
 with. 
 
 Just as there are cabs and cabs, elegant landaus, and rus- 
 tic herdics, brightly-polished hansoms and disreputable four 
 wheelers, so there are jinrikishas and jinrikishas. Get into 
 one of the better class, with a strong man to pull it and a 
 good road to travel over, and one is as comfortable as in an 
 easy chair wheeled over a parlor carpet. ]?ut get a rattlety- 
 bang affair such as one sometimes finds, Avith a low back 
 that cuts the spine in two, rattling Avheels and a semi-defunct 
 man to pull it, and the sensation of jinrikisha riding is any- 
 thing but agreeable. However, most of these men are 
 strong, quick, and polite. They will tuck you into their 
 little vehicle with the red blanket around j'our feet, and 
 start off as merrily as if going to their own wedding. Espe- 
 ciallv when several are hired at the same time for the same 
 
228 
 
 HILAUIOUS JINKIKISIIA MEN. 
 
 journey, they seem to take genuine (Iclight in tlieir work. I 
 have seen ten of these men, two in a jini'lkisha, liired by a 
 party of live, wlien roads Avere rough and time limited, 
 scam])er along the road Avith the utmost glee, as hoys just 
 lot out of school go home for a long holiday. They would 
 crack jokes one to another, laugh uproariously, and then 
 subside into a steady jog trot and monotonous low chant, 
 which, beginning with the head man, would be })assed back 
 
 A JINIUKIHUA. 
 
 to the next, by him to the next, and so on until the last man 
 in the ])r()C(;ssion took u}) the strain and ])assed it forward 
 along the line. 
 
 Their endurance is ])erfectly wonderful. Many a time 
 hav(5 I seen th(!m trot off, a good hour at a time, uj) hill and 
 down <lale, j)ulliiig their heavy loads witiiout a single breath- 
 ing s|)(;li, while at the end of the journey I do not remember 
 to have seen one exhausted or " wiiuled." IIow would it do 
 for our college athletes to take lessons in training from 
 these .Japanese jini'ikisha men 'i A missionary friend of mine 
 
A (X)NVENIENT I'OHITION FOR THE WAITRESS. 
 
 229 
 
 » 
 
 tolls me that on one occasion, when jn'cssed i'or time, his jin- 
 likisha-man made seventy-live miles in one day over a road 
 far from the best, and Avas by no means utterly exhausted at 
 the end of the day. On the foUowing day ho was quite 
 fresh and ready for anotlicr long })ull. This journey, thou«^h 
 of course oxcoj)tional, is by no means unexampled, while 
 forty or fifty miles is not an unusual day's woi'k, and may 
 be kept up nuiny days in succession by those hardy little 
 runners. 
 
 ]iut our jinrikisha men have (piite run away with us from 
 that dinner we were describing. \iy this time we must be 
 considered to have linished our Japanese meal, drained the 
 last cu}) of weak tea, and ready to leave mine liost. While 
 wo have boon eating, our Japanese waitress, in lier sj)otles8 
 white stockings, has been sitting in the very middle of the 
 tiibk^, or rather, of the dining-room floor, which serves as 
 our table, so that she nuiy conveniently luind us any edibles 
 that may bo out of our reach. The vision suggested to my 
 roatlers by this description of a groat, straj)ping, awkward 
 Irish Bidd}'^ planting herself in the middle of the dining 
 tabUi, and })assing the viands to the dilforont guests, is su- 
 premely ludicrous ; but not in the least incongruous is the 
 j)icture of this delicate and deft Ja])anose jnaiden squatting 
 on her wiiito soles within the inmost circle of guests, that she 
 might hand the desired dishes to any one in need. 
 
 Now we will j)ay our snudl rotikoning, put on (jur shoes 
 again, makci a, low salaam to the honorable tavern keeper 
 and his wife and all his servants and waitresses, and lind our 
 way through the dense crowd of curiosity-seekers to the roil- 
 way station. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OUR EXPERIENCE AT A CEREMONIAL TEA — THE THIRTY- 
 THIRD DEGREE OF EXQUISITE POLITENESS — JAPANESE 
 SOCIAL LIFE — IN THE EMPERORS PALACE. 
 
 A Ceremonial Tea — "Past Masters " of Politeness — The Enijieror's De- 
 viee — A Dignified Function — A Contest in Politeness — ^Vhite antl 
 Black Charcoal — \\'ith Measured Stei)s and Rhvtlunie Motion — Build- 
 ing the Fire — The !Most Solemn Moment — Our Part in the Ceremony 
 
 — No Laughing Matter — Smacking Our Lips — From Tokio to Kioto 
 
 — The Garden of the "World — Industrious and Careful Farmers — 
 Woman's Rights in Japan — One of Japan's Honored Names — Mis- 
 sionar}' Life in the East — Flippant "Globe-trotters" — Cheating the 
 Gods — Stone Children with Red Bilis — Confucius's Chilly Cult — The 
 Temple of the Three Thousand Gods — Big Gods and Little Gods — 
 Rope Made of Human Hair — How Heavy Timbers were Lifted into 
 Place — Curious Sacritice of Religious Devotees — In the E/nperor's 
 Palace — 0.saka, its Mint, its Castle, and its Fish-Market. 
 
 EFOEE we leave the fascinating 
 enn)ire of the Mikado "\ve must 
 all attend '"a Ceremonial Tea." 
 It is not the good fortune of every 
 traveler in Japan to become ac- 
 quainted with this unique national 
 custom, but it is well worth the 
 time it takes to see the acme of 
 etiquette, the thirty-third degree 
 of exquisite politeness, formality, 
 and ceremony, in whicli the Jap- 
 anese are " Past Masters." Pro- 
 fessors of the art of ffivino: ceremonial teas still exist in 
 Japan, though I understand the ])rofessors and the teas 
 themselves are not sucli everv-dav matters as they used to 
 
 be, for most Japanese in these stirring days have not time 
 
 (230) 
 
ORIGIN OF THE CEREMONIAL TEA. 
 
 231 
 
 to devote the hours and hours necessary to imbibing a cup 
 of tea in the most approved and correct manner. 
 
 This custom is said to have been introduced bv Ilidevoshi, 
 the great concjueror of Corea, who, after liis armies had re- 
 turned triuniphant, felt obliged to provide some occupation 
 for his sokliers which shouhl take their time and remove 
 their thouglits from Avarlike scenes. So, shrewd man that 
 he was, he centered their minds upon pouring and imbib- 
 ing the " cup that cheers," feehng sure that any one Avhose 
 
 DIGNIFIED DAMSKLS AT TKA. 
 
 attention was taken up for five hours at a stretch by the 
 delicate and intricate ceremonies centering around a tea- 
 pot would have no room for bloodthirsty thoughts or over- 
 leaping ambitions. 
 
 For three hundred years the Ceremonial Tea has been an 
 institution of Japanese life, and ceremonial tea-making is 
 taught in the modern schools of the government, as it is 
 thought to give dignity and grace and a kind of solemn les- 
 son in etiquette to all who study its intricacies. When we 
 asked the aged professor who had been a teacher of the art 
 all her life, and who poured for us the ceremonial cup, how 
 
232 
 
 PRELIMINARY COURTESIES. 
 
 long it took to become ])erfect in her profession, she told us 
 that a bright scholar studying one hour a day for three 
 years continuously might become fairly proficient ; but she 
 emphasized the word "fairly" to show that only a very com- 
 ])arative degree of proficiency was attainable by any such 
 short apprenticeship. 
 
 But now for the tea. There were five of us favored with 
 the ceremony in the old Daimio city of Okyama. After 
 carefully removing our shoes, we stepped reverently upon 
 the straw matting of the professor's little toy house, which, 
 by the way, was a perfect specimen of the average Japanese 
 abode. I said stepped, but it would be more proper to say 
 kneeled, for we were told that it would be almost profane 
 to come into the room in our usual upright position. So we 
 left our shoes on the ground below and kneeled up into the 
 first floor sitting-room of our hostess' apartments. Here we 
 saw a gray-haired old lady awaiting us with sweet serenity 
 and great dignity of mien. She also was upon her hands 
 and knees, and she bowed very low before us, while her 
 pathetic gray hairs swept the matting at our feet. We were 
 not to be outdone in politeness, however, so putting our 
 hands before us on the matting, we bowed low until the very 
 crowns of our heads rested on the soft matting of the floor. 
 After remaining in that position as long as we thought 
 strict etiquette required, Ave rose to our feet, and followed 
 our hostess up the steep and narrow stairs to the room above, 
 the room sacred to the ceremonial tea. 
 
 In this room a fire w^as glowing in the Tcotatsu, and the 
 steaming earthen jar of hot water looked altogether cheer- 
 ful and home-like as it bubbled and simmered above the coals. 
 
 This pre-arrangeraent, however, was only a concession to 
 our AVestern spirit of haste, for our ceremonial professor 
 had been tpld we had but one hour at our disposal, and the 
 
I 
 
 STATELY AND DIGNIFIED CEREMONIES. 233 
 
 tea must be made and served in that short siuice of time, or 
 not at all. Otherwise, she would have kindled the tire 
 before us, and have placed every drop of water in the honor- 
 able pot, which is the true and ancient way to prepare for a 
 ceremonial tea. 
 
 Motioning us to take our seats upon the mats provided, 
 she set about her task in the most serenely grave and digni- 
 fied fashion. First she entered the screen door with a little 
 bronze dish filled with charcoal, some sticks being painted 
 white, while other? v.'crc ]*^ft the natural color of the coal. 
 When she reached the door she turned around and very 
 gravely pulled the door parti}' to with one band, transferred 
 the charcoal dish to the other hand and pulled the door a 
 little farther with the hand thus left free, then changed 
 hands once more, and finally shut the door with the hand 
 first in use. Then, with six short and measured steps, only 
 six and no more, she made her way to the fire-hole in the 
 floor. Then turning around, with solemn precision, she 
 dropped upon her white stocking soles, and with the utmost 
 reverence and care deposited the charcoal in front of her. 
 Taking from a large basket by her side a pair of curious 
 black tongs, slowly and with the gravest dignity she placed 
 two black and two white pieces of charcoal on the glowing 
 coals. Then, though there was not a particle of dust to be 
 seen, she took two turkey feathers and slowly and with 
 rhythmic motions brushed the black polished edge of the 
 kotatsu. With a specially dedicated spoon she then took the 
 saucer of damp ashes and sprinkled them all about the glow- 
 ing coals, that the fire might not spread. As I write this 
 description the words naturally used seem to imply some- 
 thing of hurry and undignified haste. The very word 
 " sprinkle " from its sound seems to imply a hasty and flip- 
 pant action, but I beg my readers to understand it was any- 
 
23i 
 
 A SOLEMN MOMENT. 
 
 tiling but this. Slow and moderate, dignified and rhythmic, 
 was every motion of her hand and spoon and tongs, and as 
 the damp ashes di'()p])ed upon the hot sand they seemed to 
 partake of the spirit of the occasion, and to fall in a very 
 dignified and methodical manner. Then, with the same slow 
 and solenm movement she rose to her feet, and grasi)ing the 
 chosen vessel with the utmost tenderness, taking six meas- 
 ured steps to the door, no more and no less, she set down the 
 bronze dish and opening the door, first Avith one hand and 
 then with the other, and then with the first again, and bow- 
 ing her gray hairs to the floor, she glided out into the next 
 room. 
 
 In rising from the floor she must get upon her left foot 
 first, and it would be an unpardonable breach of etiquette to 
 put her right foot forward before the left had preceded it. 
 
 In the same "way, with slow and measured half-'lozen 
 steps, she brought in two cups, and then a slop-bowl, and 
 then a little bamboo dipper with which to fill her hot water 
 pot, and last of all the sacred lacquer box containing the 
 powdered flowers of the tea plant. This was, possibly, the 
 most solemn moment of the whole ceremony. Even Avith 
 fifty years' ex])orience our hostess evidently found it difficult 
 to live up to her lac(iuer tea box. Taking from her girdle a 
 red silk najjkin, she smoothed and folded it with extremest 
 care, tenderly and seriously, and then dusted the top of the 
 tea box, on which there had been before not the slightest 
 suspicion of dust ; then unfolding it again in another peculiar 
 manner, which took months of constant practice to learn to 
 perfection, she laid the cloth aside. 
 
 Following this came another serious ceremony. Taking 
 a bamboo dipper carefully in both hands, she placed it in 
 just the right position on the teacup, the handle resting on 
 the floor. Then, with her other hand again grasping the 
 
NO CAUSE FOR LEVITY. 
 
 235 
 
 handle of the dipper, with dignified reverence she poured 
 a small amount of water into the teacup. Into this half 
 a teaspoonful of the powdered tea flower was put, and 
 stirred in with a long bamboo wliisk which looked not unlike 
 an egg-beater. 
 
 Then with slow and measured tread she approached the 
 first guest in the row, and, sweeping the soft matting Avith 
 her white hair, she placed the cup before the honored guest. 
 Do not suppose that anything was done except with the ut- 
 most precision and care. It is impossible, since life is short, 
 to describe the preciseness, suavity, and dignified solemnity 
 with which every movement w^as performed. Not a smile 
 passed over her weather-beaten features. Every act was no 
 less serious than a religious rite to her. 
 
 However much cause for levity her guests may have 
 found, our hostess herself was evidently performing a duty 
 which admitted of no frivolity. Worldly chatter seemed 
 out of place. Laughter which came into our hearts died 
 away before it rose to the lips; and every smile was 
 smoothed out before the dignified procedure of our cere- 
 monious host. 
 
 Then came our part, which was, alas ! performed so much 
 more awkwardly than hers. A native Japanese lady, how- 
 ever, was present to coach us, and under her direction Ave 
 first touched the matting with our foreheads ; then solemnly 
 raising the cup, touched it to our brows first and next to our 
 lips. We were told it was good form to drain the cu]) in 
 three swallows, drawing in the breath after each swallow 
 and smacking the lips loudly to show our appreciation of the 
 delicious nectar. After the last swallow a peculiar noise 
 must be made by drawing in the breath with the pursed up 
 lips; a noise for which I have often heard children reproved 
 by their elders when discovered making it at the dinner 
 
236 
 
 THE ORDEAL OVER. 
 
 table. I have forgotten to say, however, that before raising 
 the cup to our lips it was necessary to put it in the ])alni of 
 the left hand, while the right lovingly chis])e(l the cu)), then 
 it must bo tui'ned half wav around, after which it niiyflit be 
 slowly raised to the lips. 
 
 After drinking, the outside of the cup must be wiped 
 with the thumb, while the inside of the cup must be simi- 
 larly wiped with the forefinger. Then it must be turned 
 half way round on the palm once more, and reverently set 
 down on the matting. 
 
 In the same way tea was prepared for each one of the 
 five guests, every one of whom must go through exactly the 
 same motions, or be forever disgraced in the eyes of our 
 hostess. 
 
 Then taking u-p the dipper and ladle, tea caddy, slop 
 bowl and cups, fire tongs and bronze charcoal basket, one by 
 one, she carried them into the next room, pacing most sol- 
 emnly each time over the six steps between the fire hole and 
 the door; opening the door in the same way with both 
 hands, and then coming back to say "Adieu" to her guests. 
 
 By this time our hostess had relaxed a little ; a weight 
 was evidently off her mind ; she had gone through a severe 
 ordeal once more and had acquitted herself most creditably. 
 Her teacups had no reason to be ashamed of her, and she 
 even smiled a dignified smile, and condescended to chat 
 most graciously. We could not, however, remain for any 
 gossip, but pressing our crowns to the matting once more, 
 with many a bow and genuflection, we backed out of the 
 presence of etiquette personified, put on our shoes, bobbed 
 through the low Japanese door, and were able to stand erect 
 and take a good infornuil breath of fresh air, thanking God 
 that no such thing as ceremonial tea existed in the world 
 of nature into which we had emerged. 
 

 * '- — 
 
 •fir i: M^^^''^'^'!^ 
 
INDUSTRIOUS AND HAPPY FARMERS. 
 
 839 
 
 Tlic journey from Tokio to Kioto, from the modern 
 secular capital to the ancient sacred capital of Japan, was a 
 most delightful one. Such a panorama of mountain and 
 valley, seashore and bluff, beautifully cultivated rice fields 
 and garden spots, forests of bamboo, orange groves, and tea 
 plantations, nuilberry bushes and persimmon orchards, rice 
 fields and vegetable gardens, would be hard to find in any 
 other section of the globe. England and France with their 
 careful culture are not so thoroughly tilled as the arable 
 
 IN A BAMBOO FOUE8T. 
 
 portions of Japan, and even little Belgium, with its teeming 
 population, does not seem as thoroughly subdued as the cul- 
 tivated parts of the Mikado's empire. On these little islands, 
 only one-ninth part of which has yet been brought under 
 cultivation, very much of whose area is bare rock and moun- 
 tain crag which cau never be tilled, thirty-seven millions of 
 people find room for existence. AVhile a few discontented 
 peasants in Ireland are always in a state of famine and 
 appealing to the sympathy of the civilized world with their 
 woes and lamentations, ten times as many contented, indus- 
 trious, and happy farmers and trades-people make a living in 
 Japan and never send to America doleful tales of want and 
 woe. 
 
240 
 
 JAPANESE Vir.LA(;ES. 
 
 ]>y a very careful system of storage of water and irriga- 
 tion most of the cultivated regions of Jajjan are beyond tiie 
 reach of drought, and whei'c tiie AnuM'ican farmer wouhl 
 starve, and the English gi'umble, and the Ii-ish get uj) a ri(jt, 
 the Japanese fai'iner will live in conrfort and plenty. To 
 be sure, his wants an; sim])le, but he is (piite able to 
 Sl pply those wants. One s(;es few gaunt, hungry beggars 
 in the large cities of Japan, fewer still in the country dis- 
 tricts. ]>eggars there are, to be sure, but most of them are 
 fat and rosy, and by no means unhiq)py hjoking or lone- 
 
 GATHKUINO Till'- TKA ('IU>1'. 
 
 some, for usually tliey resemble the famous family of 
 martyrs in having nine small children and one at the breast. 
 
 As one rides along the railway betw(M'n Tokio and Kioto 
 ho pass(>s innumerable small villages, all built on the same 
 princij)le. The h()us(>s with thatched or tiled roofs, pictur- 
 esquely turned up at tli(; end, oft(>ntimes a large Buddhist 
 temple, fnupiently a number of shrines, and a street of 
 stores, such as I hav(! desci-ib.-d in a, ])r<!vious chapter, make 
 up tli(; village. 
 
 In the (iclds we se(! women woi'king side by side with 
 the men, and often on the strecits \\r see them pulling heavy 
 loads of rice or vegetables. I'ut after all their lot is no. 
 
GROVES AND GARDENS. 
 
 241 
 
 more unonviiiblc! tliiin tliat of poiisant women on the con- 
 tin(!nt ol" Europe, and I am told that these field women, 
 though they work hai'd and aj)j)arent]y toil from morning 
 til! night, hav(; far mor<; freedom and inlluenee in their own 
 homes than the women of the i-icher classes, and their lot is 
 (]uit(! as easy to be borne. 
 
 TIk; liehls ai*e small, a!id divided frcjm one another by 
 low eMd);inkments with nari'ow ditches between, but all 
 under \\\v. most ex(|uisit(! culture, with furrows sti'aigiit and 
 even, and no inch of soil wasted. The licjuid manure stored 
 at every field's corner is malod(jrous, to be sure, but without 
 it the Japanese; fai'm(;rs could not exist, and what they can 
 endui'e year in and year out, sui"<'ly the passing traveler can 
 whid' withont murmuring. Under almost every green tree 
 and clum]) of bushes stands ii IJuddhist shrine;, while the 
 Inunboo groves with their sti'aight and slim fish-pole-like 
 stems arul feathei-y t()|)S, make pleasant and [)ictures(|UO 
 additions to the landscape. 
 
 Soon after leaving Yokohama by rail, beautiful "Fuji" 
 towers into vicnv, (|uite as lovely wlnm viewed from the 
 shore as from tin; sc^a. Symmetrical and lordly beyond all 
 description, it nuist 1x5 seen t(j be appreciated. Neither 
 glowing words, nov even the most faithful canvas can do 
 justice to it. For many miles it dominates the landscape, 
 and it is several hours after it first comes into view before 
 we get the last giim))se of this glorious mountain. 
 
 As we a])proached Kioto the beautiful gardens of a/alias, 
 japonicas, and chrysanthenmms for which it is JU)ted, be- 
 came numerous, and though at the time of our visit they 
 were not in their glory, we could get some concej)tion of 
 what they must be when every spray is a nodding ])lume of 
 flowers. 
 
 Kioto is noted for its temples, its ancient ])alace, and to 
 15 
 
242 
 
 KIOTO S MAGNIFICENT UNIVERSITY 
 
 all Christian hearts, for its splendid Christian university, the 
 Doshisha. If this were the only monument of Christian 
 missions in all the world, it Avould he a satisfactory proof 
 that they are not a failure. Here on the soil of Japan, 
 reared within a quarter of a century, we find a university of 
 which any state in the Union mig-ht be justly ])roud. Here 
 are taught not only the classics and sciences, but philosophy 
 of the most pronounced Christian type, theology, and medi- 
 cine in connection with a splendidly appointed hospital. 
 
 IN THE LAND OF THE .lAPONICA. 
 
 The hundreds of young men who assc^nble at morning 
 prayers would do credit to Dartmouth or Oborlin, and in all 
 respects this university not only accom])lishes the prime 
 ol)jeet of its estabHshment, the fornuition of Christian char- 
 acter, but is fully abreast of the times, and is second in ])opu- 
 larity and influence among the Japanese themselves only to 
 the Imperial University of Tokio itself. 
 
 The founding of this school is due verv larffolv to the 
 talents and influence of Jose})h Neesima, whose name is a 
 household word among Cliristian ])e()ple on both sides of the 
 Pacific ocean. His lamented death did not W(>ak(Mi the 
 
THE INFLUEN'CE OF THE CHRISTIAN MISSIONARY. 24;3 
 
 prestige or power of the university, but he finds a Avorthy 
 successor in President Kozaki, the former pastor of a lead- 
 ing Congregational churcli in Tokio. Most of the professors 
 in tiie univei'sity are Japanese, tliough eminent scholars 
 from among the missionaries have from the first given to 
 the school the best features of an Occidental University. 
 
 Any candid and intelligent traveler, Avhether a profess- 
 edly religious man or not, can but note and give due credit 
 to the mighty power Avhich has wrought for the regenera- 
 tion and civilization of these Eastern nations. To hear the 
 flippant commentaries of the average " globe-trotter," as I 
 have before remarked, often makes one's blood boil with in- 
 dignation. A man who goes no farther than Yokohama or 
 Kol)e, who sees the missionaries living in good houses, and 
 having servants to wait on them, immediately writes home 
 to the papers that the missionaries are living in luxury and 
 doing no good, and that their influence is not appreciably 
 felt in the empire. Such a man is no more a fit judge of 
 that concerning which he writes so fluently than the keeper 
 of a Chinese josshouse in San Francisco is fitted to write of 
 the influence of the Sundav-School movement, or a citizen of 
 the South Sea islands of the spread of temperance sentiment 
 in Xew England. 
 
 More than all other influences together has the Christian 
 missionar}' moulded and directed the new civilization of 
 Japan. Commercial treaties could never have wrought the 
 change. Open ports for trade in rice, tea, and lacquer ware 
 could never have sent the new blood of AVestern civilization 
 bounding through the veins of old Japan. But the mission- 
 ary and the Bible, and everything for which the missionary 
 and tlie Bible stand, have in less than a generation accom- 
 plished what centuries of mere commercial intercourse Avith 
 other nations couhl ncA'er lun^e brouiiht about. 
 
I 
 
 244 
 
 NOT TRUTH, BUT SENSATIONALISM. 
 
 I have met missionaries of almost every denominational 
 board in Japan, and in not a single instance have I fonnd 
 them other than devoted, consecrated men and women, who 
 have dedicated their lives completely and forever to the lift- 
 ing np of this people and the glory of God. I have seen in 
 our daily papers strictures and criticisms upon the inission- 
 aries which a single half day's investigation would ])rove 
 false. But these flippant penny-a-liners, who Avritc their 
 first impressions for the daily papers, never stop to investi- 
 gate. The truth is not what they are after, but a sensation, 
 and my readers may set down any such ill-natured remarks 
 Avhich they nuiy read in the future about missionaries and 
 their work, as the result of ignorance and maliciousness. 
 
 The temples of Kioto are very numerous and exceedingly 
 beautiful. Of these perhaps the Kyonizu Sanjusangendo 
 and Ilongwanji temples are the most famous. 
 
 The Kyonizu temple is built on enormous piles, and on 
 one side is raised scores of feet from the ground. It is ap- 
 proached by a long flight of stone steps, and as Ave Avent up 
 the steps Ave Avere a})})roaclied, not only by numerous beg- 
 gars, but also by many money changers, Avho offered to 
 change our sens into rins. As a sen is Avorth less than a 
 cent and a rin less than a mill, it is evident that the ostenta- 
 tious Avorshiper Avho Avishes to make his charity rattle loudly 
 in the temple treasury, can get a great deal of credit for lib- 
 eral gift-giving out of a A'ery few pennies. Tliere are, more- 
 over, debased iron coins, a hundred of Avhich equal one son, 
 and these are very popular at the entrance of some temj)les. 
 After all, this is the same principle by Avhich light Aveight 
 and punched and clipped silver coins find their Avay into con- 
 tribution boxes at home, and I liaA'e sometimes heard it 
 rumored that buttons in America answer the same purpose 
 as iron rins in Japan ; they make as much noise as gold. 
 
A FAMOUS TEMPLE. 
 
 245 
 
 As wc go up the steps of the Kyoni/Ai temple, we see at 
 regukir intervals stone lanterns, into which candles are 
 thrust to light the pilgrim on his toilsome way, and every 
 now and then we pass a medicine god whose features are 
 worn smooth by the devout worslii]:)ers, who have rubbed 
 their hands over the i)arts of the idol's body in which the 
 diseases of their afHicted friends were located, in order that 
 they might carry the healing touch home with them. 
 
 Eye diseases and rheumatism seem to be the prevailing 
 
 ENTKANC'E TO NAGATA TEMPM:, KOBE. 
 
 [t 
 
 distempers in this part of Japan, for the eyes of some of 
 these old gods are completely scratched out, and their knees 
 and thighs worn smooth by centuries of ceaseless rubbing. 
 Nothing is more pathetic among all the superstitions of 
 heathendom than these efforts on behalf of invalid friends, 
 so impotent and yet so touching, showing that whether in 
 Christian light or heathen darkness, the heart's affection is 
 the same the world over. 
 
 Another most pathetic sight in the Kyonizu temple is the 
 corner devoted to imaffes of children. Hundreds and hun- 
 
240 
 
 SUPERSTITION RATHER THAN DEVOTION. 
 
 (Ireds of these little stone images are ranged in rows, witlj 
 little red bibs about their necks, votive olFerings, we are told, 
 to tiie god ol' the temple, in behalf of children sick at home. 
 The red bibs indicate, if I am not mistaken, that the children 
 recovered, and are put on as tiiank offerings over the little 
 stone imago Avhen the child gets well. 
 
 These temples and tliis idol worship, however interesting 
 to the casual observer, seefn to take very little hold of the 
 national life. Little true devotion is ap[)arent in China or 
 
 A .lAPANKHK IDOL AND TK.MI'M;. 
 
 Japan, the prevalent ske])ticism liaving in many places taken 
 the place of the old-time reverence for Buddha and the lesser 
 duties. 
 
 Tlie gods seem to be worsliip(>(l more often as a matter of 
 gain, as a superstitious olfei'Ing to good luck and pi'osperity, 
 and even while they are worshij)ed they are laughed at, I 
 am told, by the more intelligent Japanese, just as the super- 
 stitious Christian will often i-efuse to eat with twelve others 
 at table, will fret if he sees the nu)on over his left shoulder, 
 or breaks a looking-glass, laughing at the same time at his 
 
A TEMPLE CROWDED WITH fJODS. 
 
 ^47 
 
 1 
 II 
 
 rs 
 
 if, 
 
 lis 
 
 own superstitious fears. I)()ul)tless, witli many people, the 
 worship of these heatiien deities is a most serious aud lieart- 
 I'elt afl'air, and is to them far more than a su[)erstition to be 
 sneei'od at. Ja])an is not now a hind under tlie absohitc 
 domini(m of eitlier Shintoisni or Buddhism; the real conflict 
 of (/hristianity is not with the false relif^ions of the East, but 
 the skepticism of tlu; West, not with Confucius and his 
 " chilly cult," but with tiie infidelity of Paine and Voltaire, 
 llosseau and Kenan. 
 
 The Saiijusan;Ljcndo temple is interesting chiefly because 
 of the great number of deities packed away beneath its ro(jf. 
 It is sometimes called th(; temple of the three thousand gods, 
 at other times of the thirty-three thousand, while it is some- 
 times even known as the abode of the three hundred and 
 thirty-three thousand, thi'ee hundred and thirty-three, all 
 depending U])on liow one counts the gods. 
 
 Inside are long, long rows of large figures, some thousand 
 in all, if I counted correctly, each with many hands, and a 
 multitude of smaller gods springing from the lu>ads and 
 fingers, while in the center is a huge liuddhawith a hundred 
 hands each 'covenul with a multitude of smaller deities. 
 Counting all the gods, hirge and small, then^ aro, certainly 
 over three thousand, and as certainly less than tln'ce hundred 
 and thirty-three thousand, but what the exact number may 
 be, an aritiimetician must decide;. 
 
 Back of this temple is an interesting sj)ot where, in the 
 early days, the stalwart youtii of .Ia[)an practiced archery, 
 the great feat being to send an arrow in a horizontal line, 
 without too much elevation, the entire length of the temple. 
 The whole tem])le roof and the space under the eaves were 
 formerly shot thick with arrow heads which had strayed 
 from the. mark ; but these are now mostly removed by relic; 
 hunters, and we saw but few still sticking in tin; roof. 
 
us 
 
 SKILLFUL WOOD CARVERS. 
 
 Perhaps the most interesting temple in Kioto, all tilings 
 considered, is the llong-wangi. It is asserted by some 
 recent writers that no new Buddhist temples are being built, 
 and that the old ones are turablin<if into decay. The Ilonff- 
 wangi temple, however, disputes this assertion, for it is still 
 incomplete, and was begun only a few years since. It is 
 erected by one of the most liberal sects of the Buddhists, for 
 the Buddhists, like the Christians, are divided into manv 
 sects and parties, which regard each other with far more 
 
 A BUDDHIST SHUINE. 
 
 rancor than Christian denominations ever felt one for 
 another. In this new temple are some of the finest speci- 
 mens of Japanese wood carving to be found in any part of 
 the Empire. Birds and fish and flowers and foliage of 
 excpiisite workmanship abound, though often hidden under 
 the eaves, where they are seen with the utmost difficulty. 
 
 One of the most interesting sights about this temple is 
 the great coils of rope, made of human hair, with which the 
 heavy beams w^ere hoisted into their places. This hair was 
 contributed as the offering of thousands and thousands 
 
 •!(. 
 t 
 
ROPES MADE OF HUMAN HAIR. 
 
 5>40 
 
 of devoted women and girls, and after being used to hoist 
 the beams and I'afters into their })laces is preserved in these 
 great coils, six inches through and thousands of feet in 
 length, for the veneration of future devotees. The nujst 
 pathetic of these coils were made of gray hair, evidently the 
 contribution of old grandams whose faith had survived the 
 weary years that had whitened their locks. 
 
 -W*^'?!? 
 
 AN INLAND AaiXAQE. 
 
 IS 
 
 Ihe 
 [as 
 Ids 
 
 . The pillars of this temple are made of the beautiful 
 Keyaki wood, the most famous building material in all 
 Japan. These pillars are immensely tall and straight, often 
 three or four feet in diameter, and beautifully polished. 
 
 There is an interesting history connected with one of the 
 most elegant of these pillars. The tree grew in an inland 
 village and was the pride and delight of all the villagers. 
 The priests wanted it for the new temple, but could not 
 
260 
 
 A SELF-SACRIFICING DEVOTEE. 
 
 
 rr/rf«>V^ 
 
 obtain it for lovo or money, until one devoted Buddiiist, for 
 the sake of renderin<^ it Avorthless wiiere it stood, hung him- 
 self from its branches, thus maiving it accursed and at the 
 dis})()sal of whoever desired to cut it down. In conse(juenco 
 of the self-sacrilico of that devotee the llongwangi temple 
 rejoices to-day in its most beautiful pillar. 
 
 I The priests 
 
 k have a fasiiion 
 
 v^ of saying that 
 
 these pillars 
 were not hauled 
 to the temple, 
 but made their 
 own way thith- 
 e r w a r d , t h e 
 ^ facts being that 
 the people of 
 one village, in 
 their enthusias- 
 tic fervor, Avoukl 
 haul the log to 
 the nearest vil- 
 lage, they to the 
 next, and so on, 
 until at 'last it 
 reached Kioto, 
 and was estab- 
 lished in its })lace among the stately columns of the 
 Ilongwangi temple. 
 
 Another of the lions of Kioto is the royal palace, Avhere, 
 until twenty-five years ago, for a full millennium abode His 
 Imperial Majesty, the Mikado of Japan. Not that he and 
 his ancestors occupied this particular palace, for the build- 
 
 rcsn—- 
 
 /— -— UMcJh'M^ - I— II ■! Ill ■ 
 
 A WAYSIDE SIiniXR. 
 
AN AMUSING NOTICE. 
 
 251 
 
 ings were oiicn destroyed by esirtluiuiiko uiid fire, l)iit 
 were as often rebuilt in the same fashion as of. ohl ; and 
 as one enters he can see to-day how the Mikados lived a 
 thousand years ago. 
 
 After having received a special ])ermit, we awaitetl in 
 the cold vestibule the pleasure of our guides, who are never 
 in any hurry in Japan to do the honors of their show places. 
 While waiting we had ample time to read the notice which 
 in English and Japanese confronts every visitor. Here it is : 
 
 Id 
 Ito 
 
 lil- 
 iie 
 m, 
 
 it 
 
 o, 
 Ivb- 
 
 lie 
 
 Ire, 
 his 
 
 Ind 
 lid- 
 
 VISITORS WHO HAVE BEEN AUTHORIZED TO VISIT THE 
 IMPERIAL PALACE MUST BEFORE ENTERING PRESENT AT THE 
 ENTRANCE THEIR VISITING CARDS AND REQUEST TO BE CON- 
 DUCTED INTO THE PALACE. ALSO SIGN THEIR NAMES, GIVING 
 FULL INFORMATION AS TO OFFICIAL AND DIGNITARY TITLES. 
 VISITORS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WEAR BOOTS OR SHOES IN 
 THE PALACE. VISITORS SHOULD LEAVE THEIR OVERCOAT, 
 MITTEN, STICK, WALKING STICK, CANE, OR WHATEVER THEY 
 TAKE WITH THEM EITHER TO THE ATTENDANT OR TO THE 
 SERVANT OF THE PALACE StFORE THEY ENTER THE PALACE." 
 
 Not being encumbered with any '' mitten " we only took 
 off our shoes, de])osited them at the door, and left our " stick, 
 walking-stick, and cane," all combined in one, with the 
 attendant, and entered within the royal precincts. 
 
 Though one would not Avish to miss the sight, I must 
 admit there was exceedingly little to see. After living a 
 thousand years in such a draughty suite of rooms, I do not 
 wonder the Mikados were ready to move to Tokio, though I 
 do not knoAV that their present abode is superior to the old 
 palace. Cold corridor succeeded cold corridor, and room 
 after room, each as bare of furniture as the other; no 
 pictures nor bric-a-brac, no cozy homelike fireside, no shelf 
 of well-worn books, no rocking-chair for the old grand- 
 
252 IN A JAPANESE ROYAL PALACE. 
 
 mother, or high-chair for the baby, no bed or lounge or rug 
 or hassock to give them a habitable look. Every room and 
 hall and corridor is covered with matting of exactly the 
 same pattern, in strips exactly three feet wide by exactly six 
 feet long, and bound with red or blue braid. To be sure, 
 there were finely-i)ainted screens in almost every room, 
 which would have been the envy of all connoisseurs in 
 Japanese art. In one room, too, was the throne, which was 
 a very uncomfortable but highly carved and gilded piece of 
 the modern cabinet-maker's art, Avhile before it were three 
 low stools on which the maces, wands, and other insignia of 
 office were laid. 
 
 In the imperial study were beautiful screens decorated 
 on all sides with wild geese in full fliglit. Whether this 
 indicated that the study of Confucius which formerly occu- 
 pied the young Mikados in this room was a " wild goose 
 chase," or not, I am not sure. Very likely, however, the 
 young Mikados of old were of the same opinion as Solomon 
 and the modern school boy that "much study is a weariness 
 unto the flesh." Who can tell how many successive Mikados 
 have whiled away the tedious hours by watching the wild 
 geese flying about the room on these screens? 
 
 The Emperor's bedroom, like all the other rooms except 
 the throne-room, was entirely bare and empty of everything 
 that could be called furniture. In one corner was a square, 
 six or eight feet across, made of cement, on which dirt was 
 sprinkled every morning, so that the Emperor might wor- 
 ship the shades of his ancestors on the soil (as his religion 
 demanded), without leaving his own bedroom. Thus, even 
 before the days of cushioned pews and high-priced choirs, 
 was worship made as easy as possible for those who can 
 afford it. 
 
 In the great open square, around which the royal rooms 
 
 i 
 
THE LEGEND OF A CHERRY TREE. 
 
 253 
 
 are Imilt, Avere some feeble attempts at landscape gardening. 
 A little stream antl rgckery and a few clumps of bamboos 
 are maintained tliere, just as they have been for hundreds of 
 years. Near the Emperor's bedroom Avas a cherry tree, the 
 progenitors of Avhich were planted by a great IMikado hun- 
 dreds of years ao'o, and 
 when that rotted away 
 a plum tree took its 
 place; then another 
 cherry tree succeeded 
 by another plum tree; 
 but always in that par- 
 ticular spot there has 
 been for ten hundred 
 and thirty -two years a 
 fruit tree for successive 
 Mikados to gaze upon. 
 This dynasty of the 
 Japanese Mikados is 
 the oldest ruling house 
 in all the world. For 
 twenty-five h u n d r e d 
 years the same family 
 has occupied the 
 throne. Before Eng- 
 land, or France, or Ger- 
 many, or Russia were 
 so much as dreamed 
 of, Japan's Emperor held royal sway. When the Greeks 
 were at the height of their power the ]n'esent reigning fam- 
 ily of Japan had begun to bear sway. The present Mikado, 
 if I am not mistaken, is the one hundred and twenty-fifth 
 who has occupied the throne in direct succession. How 
 
 A JAPANESE FAKMEU. 
 
'25i 
 
 TEMPTING THE TOURIST S PURSE. 
 
 does that strike you, O ye aristocrats, who can trace your 
 lineage back at most for a few paltry centuries, or j)ei'ha])s 
 for only a few scores of years? Ye are i)arvenues, indeed, 
 beside the royal family of Japan, even though ye came over 
 with William the Concjueror himself. 
 
 Nagoya is a seat of manufacture of much of the finest 
 ware exported fi'om Japan, and the beautiful conceits and 
 imexpected forms iiito which cups and teapots, bowls and 
 ])lates are cast, makes them the despair of the connoisseur in 
 china. Each new article seems lovelier than the last, and 
 tempts the lean purse to open once more, even though the 
 vision of a long voyage and imperious Custom House 
 officials at the end teach caution and economy. 
 
 The ravages of the great earthquake of 1891 are now 
 ]')retty well re})aired, but cracks aiul huge lissui'cs in mud 
 walls, buildings, and even in the ground itself remam to 
 show the havoc wrought by the wrestling of the subter- 
 ranean demons. 
 
 The most beautiful castle in existence in Ja]ian is foimd 
 in Nagoya. It is used now for barracks f(jr the ]m])erial 
 troops, and is surmounted by two huge golden d()lj)hins 
 whose scales are made of large Japanese golden c(jins. The 
 whole value of the doli)liins is not less than $180,000. One 
 of them was (jnce on exhibition at a great Euro})ean ex- 
 position. It was wrecked and lost on the way home, in the 
 Bay of Biscay^ and great was the rejoicing on the ])art of 
 all loyal Ja})anese, when a famous diver fished it from its 
 watery bed (for which the dolphin evidently had an affinity), 
 and it was })erche(l once more, high and diy, upon the pin- 
 nacle of the Xagoya castle. 
 
 In some of these busy towns through which we pass, we 
 are very likely to find that some gala day is being cele- 
 brated, and that half the inhabitants are gathered in the 
 
JAPANESE JUGGLERS AND ACROBATS. 
 
 255 
 
 public stjuare to watch the ju^i^glers and acrobats, who, on 
 liigh hidders, balanced in the most ticklish fashion, are 
 dancing and turning somersaults and standing on their 
 heads and cavorting around generally, yet always landing 
 right side up on their feet when the show is over. 
 
 Osaka is famous for its castle, too, and also for its mint, 
 an institution carried on uj)on the most approved modern 
 ])lans, and which turns out as finely linished and l)eautiful 
 €oins as are made by any country in the world. AVliat inter- 
 ested me most in (Jsaka was, perhaps, the lish nuirket. This 
 
 %;S^^ 
 
 
 JAPANE8K ACROBATS. 
 
 I went to see early in the morning, and if there is any 
 variety of the finny tribe which was not on sale in the 
 Osaka fish market that morning, I should like to see it. It 
 is said that two hundred species of edible fish are found off 
 the Ja])an coast, and not one of them, I am convinced, was 
 missing from that Eastern Billingsgate. P>hie fish and green 
 lish, red fish and yellow lish, and lish combining all the 
 colors of the rainl)ow, long lish and short fish, fat fish and 
 lean fish, thin fish and stout fish, al)ounded in every stall. 
 Stjuids and cuttle fish, dev'l fish and skates Avcre found, and 
 every variety of octo])Us, es])ecially that with the long, jelly- 
 
>oO 
 
 IN A JAPANESE FISH MARKET. 
 
 «' 
 
 like, cruel tentacles, which, if they get hold of a man under 
 "vvater, would evidently hold liim fast until the life blood was 
 sucked dry. 
 
 Besides these were sculpins and spine llsh, eels, big and 
 little, sea snails and suckers, and all kinds of hlche de mer. 
 Doli)hins, too, seemed to ])lay a prominent part in this fish 
 market, and the great red chunks of meat cut out of them 
 and exposed for sale gave the stalls the appearance of a 
 butcher's shop where Texas beef was the sta})lc article. It 
 was most interesting to Avatch the way in which the fish 
 Avere auctioned off. The auctioneer will present a tray of 
 cuttle fish or squids, for instance, praising them up in true 
 auctioneer style, and knock it off to the highest bidder all in 
 a quarter of a minute, for he has a hundred trays to dispose 
 of, and cannot dwell long rtn any one lot. His shrill voice, 
 added to the shouts of the fishermen and the objurgations of 
 the buyers, always inseparable, as it Avould seem, from Bil- 
 lingsgate, whether in Ja])an or England, made a pandemo- 
 nium not soon to be forgotten. 
 
 We take off our hats and make our best salaams to the 
 recedinjr shores of these lovely islands which we luive so 
 much enjoyed visiting. We can only i)ray that as Japan 
 grows great in material affairs, as it surely will as it adopts 
 the civilization of Western nations, it may also adopt the re- 
 ligion and the Bible which alone have made those nations 
 truly great. 
 
 I 
 
 - I 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 OUR UETURX TO ClIIX-V- THE SEAMY SIDE OF CHINESE 
 LIFE — OPIUM FIENDS AND FAN-TAN OAMRLEHS — ODD 
 WAYS OF AN ODD lM-]OPLE —DISPOSAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 An Obstriu'ling Bar — The Will of Heaven — Almond Eyes and Pigtails 
 
 — Noiseless John — How John Cliinanian Treats Anierieans in Shanghai 
 
 — Colossal Coneeit — Tlie Future of the Celestial Enqjire — Shoes Two 
 Cents a Pair — A Chinese (Jroeery Store — Dried Kidneys and Chiekens' 
 Livers — Varnished Pig — Allowable Tiieft — A Chinese Ri(<' Mill — 
 Arrested Devekxpment — How Chinese Paper is Made — Riee Paper — 
 How it is Produced — Woebegone, Einaeiated Faces — The Seamy Side 
 of Chinese Life — " Hitting the Pipe " — Opium Fiends — Fan-tan Gam- 
 blers — Intense Excitement — Cliinese ^lusic — Unearthly Screeching — 
 Prolonged and Awful Caterwauling — Human Reasts of Rnrden — 
 China and Japan Agriculturally Considered — Rotation of Crops — 
 Novel Ice Harvesting — Fish Farming — An Odd Way of Fishing — 
 A Great Funeral — Funeral Raked Meats — Baby Towers of Shanghai. 
 
 X the (lay aftei' ('Iiristiiiiis, the 
 stwuner Yokohama J/r/;v^ which 
 boro us from the l)eautiful shores 
 of Ja])ati, steamed ii[) to lier 
 (h)('k in Shanghai, and we found 
 ourselves once more in China. 
 
 8hano-hai is probably the 
 greatest commercial port of the 
 far Eiist. Vessels i)earing the 
 flags of every nation discharge 
 I ^^^^^^^^^^ ji^- their cargoes at iier warehouse 
 
 doors. At least, they do this 
 figurjitively speaking, and would be glad to do it literally, 
 were it not for the obstructing bai' netir the mouth of the 
 Yang-tse-Kiang river. 
 
 This bar the Chinese government tdlows to fill up with 
 10 ( •.>5r ) 
 
 J 
 
! 
 
 258 
 
 VELVET-FOOTED CHINAMEN. 
 
 silt from tlic upixM* rivor, and novor makes any effort to re- 
 move it, or to J'oi'ni a new channel, as mi<;lit easily be done. 
 
 "It is the will of heaven," say theses fatalistic (^elestials; 
 " we will not interfere." 
 
 I strong-ly sus])ect, howevei", tliat it is the will of the high 
 Chinese authorities as well, who ai'c^ not at all averse to 
 keeping the ''foreign devils " out of theii* t(M'rit(jiy even at 
 the expense of ruining their best sea])ort. 
 
 Be that as it nuiy, the poi't of Shanghai is ali'eady inac- 
 cessible to the largest vessels, and men moderate-sized 
 steamers sometimes must wait for days befoi'e they can cross 
 the bar at Woosung, where all the large steamers take on 
 and discharge? tlieii' cargo. 
 
 Shanghai consists of three cities united l)y contiguity 
 and commercial interests; the American and English con- 
 cessions which are under one municij)al government, the 
 French concession which is a municipality by itself, and the 
 native city, enclosed by a high wall, into whc^se narrow 
 streets are ci'owded hundi'eds of thousands of human beings. 
 
 Do not suppose, however, that English, Amei'ican, and 
 Fi'encli Shanghai are largely iidiabited by Englishmen, 
 Americans, and FrenchnuMi. A few ])Coi)le of these nation- 
 alities there are, a few tlujusands among himdi'eds of thou- 
 sands, but to search for a foreigner even in many ])arts of 
 the foreign concessions, is like looking foi- the traditional 
 needle in the hay-uiow. 
 
 Every whei'e ai'e almond eyes and pig-tails ; long, flapping- 
 blouses, loose, baggy drawers, and thick felt sli})})ers, Avhose 
 wearei's seem to steal along like cats, so noiselessly they go. 
 Especially is this noticeal)le to those who come from Japan, 
 Avliere the noisy wooden shoes clatter over the hard I'oads 
 and across the asphalt ]>latforms of the railway stations like 
 ten thousand castanets, each playing a different tune. 
 
AN EYE TO BUSINESS. 
 
 259 
 
 sc 
 (). 
 n, 
 lis 
 ke 
 
 '^o he stii'c, tlicrc iii'(> some line forci^'ii b'lsiiu'ss blocks in 
 Sliiiiigliiii, and Iwoor three e(>iis])icu<)iis cliiii-clies; and the 
 hund or water front, with its beautiful botanical "garden and 
 substantial banks, warehouse's, and I'esideuces, it would bo 
 dillicult to surjjass in any city ; but, after all, the |)revai]in<^ 
 inii)ression of Shan,ii,'hai is of a hui^-e Chinatown with a small 
 admixture of San Francisco. In fact, the tables arc; ()uito 
 turned on th(3 metropolis of our I'acitic coast. Ilei'e (^hina 
 very evidently bears sway, and the little handful of Ameri- 
 cans must say '' I>y youi' leave." 
 
 However, in spite of the general shabby treatment 
 accorded to -John in the Tnited States, there; seems to Ik; no 
 antipathy to Ainei'icaiis in Siianghai. The {ivera<^'e .lohn 
 (■iiinaman is too shi'ewd to cut oil' his no.se to s])ito his face, 
 and he knows that tiie pi'esence of En«^'lishmen, Americans, 
 and Frenchmen means trade and commerce, cash for his till, 
 jinrikisha money, ami small chan<.^'e <^'enerally, which other- 
 wise; he must g'o without. 
 
 Moreover, so fai' as Americans <^'o, he knows that while 
 he has ami)le reason to resent their ])resence in his native 
 land, he has far £>:reater cause to abominate other forei<>-ners 
 who have imposed still heavier' burdenis upon his [)atient 
 shoulders. So, instead of be<>'innin<2,' his warfare upon 
 brother .Jonathan, lie will begin with ,lohnny Bull or 
 -lohnny Ci'apaud, as umloubtedly his worst enemies. 
 
 Tntil within a few years, Aniei'icans have stood hig'hest 
 in the estimatiem of the Chinamen. Of late years, not 
 uujuiturally, theii' stock has declined in the Chinese market, 
 and now tin .,ormans (perhaps because they have had fewer 
 oi)poi'tunities to abuse China) are the favorite people through- 
 out the; Celestial Emjnre. 
 
 What the future of China will be, is yet an unsolved 
 mvstery. That she should always nuuntain her stolid indif- 
 
 It/ t. 
 
2G0 
 
 UNRESPONSIVE CHINA. 
 
 i» 
 
 
 ference to "Western civilization seems impossil)le. In spfte of 
 her im penetrable husk of prejudice and self-satisfied conceit, 
 her settled conviction that her wavs are the best ways, and 
 that no untutored barbarian can teach her anvthino', it 
 seems to nie that the rushing, seething-, nineteenth century 
 life which is continuallv beating against her shores must 
 eventually make an impi'ession. Sooner or later thehistincts 
 that are being awakened in the breasts of all the rest of 
 mankind for a largei", freer, better life will find a response in 
 the heart of Chinadom as well. 
 
 But I am convinced that there is only one touch that can 
 awaken the unresponsive heart of China, and that is the 
 touch of Christ's hand. 
 
 Commerce has been knocking at her doors for nearly a 
 thousand years, and has not aroused her from her letluirgy. 
 Foreign cannon have thundered at the gate;^ of all her chief 
 cities and they have not awakened lier. Foreign inventions 
 and labor saving contrivances; railways and steamboats, 
 electric lights and modern conveniences, have been presented 
 to her in vain ; and all have failed to shame her out of her 
 stolid self-conceit. She has gone back to her wheelbarrow 
 and her sedan-chair, her paper lantern and her clumsy jurdv, 
 convinced that " we are the people and wisdom Avill die with 
 us," and that the paltry inventions of " foreign devils " are 
 not worth copying. 
 
 What chance then is there for such a nation except that 
 which lies in the arousing of her dormant spiritual energies 't 
 This is the mission of the missionaries of the Cross. Already 
 many of them tell me that they see indications of a "■ break" in 
 this benumbing national self-sufficiency, and Avlien the break 
 does come, what a torrent of spiritual activity may we not 
 hope to see. To be sure this good day may not come in 
 this generation or the next, but some day I believe the holes 
 
A WALKING SHOE SHOP. 
 
 201 
 
 V 
 
 ot 
 in 
 
 es 
 
 already made in the dike of prejudice will widen until the 
 whole nation is flooded with the life-giving waters of the 
 Gospel. 
 
 Let us take a walk this brisk December morning through 
 the crowded streets of Shanghai. Until the edge of novelty 
 is dulled every common shoj) is filled Avitli marvels. He 
 who only looks for the treasui'es oi the Orient in the ex- 
 pensive curio stores, which abound at the seaports, will miss 
 most of them. To be sure he will there Ihid exquisite 
 carved ivory and lac(pier ware, marvelously beautiful 
 bronzes, figures in wood that are almost beyond price, and 
 pieces of china and jiorcelain of fabulous cost. Nearly all 
 these treasures, or their duplicates, he could ihid in almost 
 any large American city. But the treasures we look for are 
 found in every common shop and home in China, and really 
 I'epresent Oriental life and ways. 
 
 Here, for instance, comes a nuin bending under the 
 weight of two hundred pairs of shoes, made of honest, 
 undisguised rice straw ; uppers, soles, shoe-strings and all, of 
 braided rice straw. AVishing to take home a pair as a 
 souvenir of the Shanghai shoe dealer, Ave incpiire the ])rice, 
 and, after not a little difficulty Avitli his language and he 
 with ours, find that his chai'ge is thirty " cash," about two 
 American cents })er })air. Thinking this is not extravagant 
 Ave purchase a pair, but find out afterAvards from our friends 
 that Ave have been sadly overreached, and that liis price to a 
 Chinaman Avould not haA'e been oA'er fifteen or twenty cash, 
 or a trifle over one cent a pair. 
 
 But here is a store from which, though it is interesting, 
 Ave can take no souvenirs home, for it is a provision store, 
 and the greasy, unwholesome looking provender exposed for 
 sale Avould, aa'c fear, turn the stonuichs of our more fastidious 
 friends. 
 
2G3 
 
 DRIED KIDNEYS AND VARNISHED PIG. 
 
 In the next store are many festoons of chickens' livers, 
 dried and strung- like hiig-e ill-sliaped beads. Other strings 
 of dried kidneys hang from the ceiling, and many long 
 rosaries of skinny chickens' legs tied together and hung up 
 in loops, like great, uncanny necklaces, dangle from the 
 roof. 
 
 In these provision stores are also seen suspended from 
 the roof, as our gr-andmothers suspended dried ap})les and 
 pum])kins, strings of ducks, split oi)en and pressed fiat as 
 pancakes in the drying i)rocess. Here, too, are greasy look- 
 mg sausages, each one on a little stick of its own, and near 
 the doorway is usually a pig, varnished and roasted whole, 
 until he is of a most delicious-looking brown. 
 
 If the j)orker tastes as he looks, I do not wonder that he 
 is a favorite article of consumption among the followers of 
 Confucius. The proprietor of the provision store sits in front 
 behind a little railetl-in desk, and seems in no hurry for cus- 
 tomers. In fact, it is quite your own matter whether you 
 buy or not, and he often affects su]n'eme indifference as 
 though he was beyond the mercenary considerations of trade. 
 Before him is an abacus, and great strings of copper cash 
 coiled one over the other, — twenty ])ounds weight or more. 
 
 But do not think that this indifferent shopkeeper is not 
 shrewd at a bargain. American though you may be, with 
 generations of bargaining blood in your veins, he is a match 
 for you. Look out for him if you have any transactions to 
 make, for his code of morals does not demand any line de- 
 gree of scrupulosity. He will not cheat you very much, but 
 a little sharp practice he will regard quite within the estab- 
 lished limits of legitimate trade. In fact, petty peculation is 
 such a recognized custom, tliat if a servant does not steal 
 more than a certain per cent, of his master's substance, he 
 is never even threatened with the law. 
 
 I 
 
A NOVEL PLEA. 
 
 HQS 
 
 I was told thiit a certuhi iiuistor, new to the country, 
 liaving (lotected his servant in a small dishonesty, brought 
 him before the court. Whereupon the servant admitted his 
 guilt but claimed and ])roved that his peculations had not 
 amounted to^more than fifteen per cent, of his wages. Upon 
 this astoiuxling })lea of comp<iratim innocence, the judge 
 fully acquitted him without even a re}n'inuind. 
 
 ^^f^H* 
 
 A CHINESE HICK MILL. 
 
 As we continue our walk through Shanghai, we come to 
 a miller''s establishment next door to our provision dealer. 
 Here are a dozen men Avorking in a treadmill, which raises, 
 as thev tread their monotonous round, a row (^f huge mal- 
 lets. These uiallets, poised high in air, descend into a stone 
 well, partly lilled with uidmsked rice or paddy. After being 
 pountled by these mallets for a suiKcient time, the grain is 
 separated from the chafT and is then taken out and winnowed 
 bv hand. There are other kinds of rice mills, but even the 
 
ICA 
 
 HOW I'AI'EK IS MADE IN CHINA. 
 
 1 
 
 11 
 
 1,', 
 
 iii!! 
 
 commonest processes are yet very ])i'iiiiitive in this f^reat 
 emjtire of the East. 
 
 All China seems to furnish an oxamj)le of arrested (h^vel- 
 ojmient. Before any other natioji, douhtless, China used 
 ))ajK'r and gunpowder, movable ty])es, and tlie mariner's 
 eom])ass, but she lias never improved upon her lii'st I'oiigh 
 draughts. As she made these ai'ticles a thousaiul years ago 
 she nuUvCs them now. AVith most nations a new invention 
 of any kind is only a beginning of inventions. A great dis- 
 covery in physics or cheniistiy in other nations only sets 
 men's minds on tlu^ alei-t for other discovei'ies and improve- 
 ments in the same line. Outside of (Miina lu) invention is 
 complete at first. The i)erfect nuichine is the product of 
 many minds and of much expei'inienting. In the middle 
 kingdom, liowever, a machine once invented is invented for 
 all time. Ko improvements a])}»eMr, no I'ivals set their wits 
 at work to find a bettei* and chcaiH'r way to ])roduce the 
 same result. When once a method is i)(jinted out, it is imi- 
 tated by unreasonmg generations for countless future years. 
 
 For instance, a "well-informed "writer "who spent many 
 years in China in the consular service of (rreat ]>ritain, tells 
 us of the present-day process of making the ordinary Chi- 
 nese paper. " There is an entire absence of machinery," he 
 says, ''for washing and shredding rags; there are no troughs 
 of pul[), chemicals for bleaching, resin for watering, wire 
 molds for receiving, and di-ums for firming the paper as it 
 comes from the pulp troughs. Bamboo stems and paddy 
 straw are steeped with lime in deep concrete pits in the open 
 air, and allowed to soak for months. When nothing but the 
 fibre remains, it is taken out and rolled with a heavy stone 
 roller in a stone well until all the lime has been removed. 
 A small quantity of the fibre is placed in a stone trough full 
 of water and the whole stirred up. A close bamboo mold is 
 
 !iHl 
 
IN A CHINESE PAPER MILL. 
 
 2G5 
 
 tlien passed throui,'h the mixed lll)i'e and water, and the tihn 
 whicli adheres to it (Mner<^es as a sheet of ))a])er which is 
 stuck uj) to (h'v oti the walls of a room ke^)t at a hig'h tem- 
 perature. The sheets are afterwards collected and made uj) 
 into ])undles foi' market." 
 
 A CHINESE r.Vl'KU MIL!,. 
 
 Contrast this primitive method of paper making with the 
 mills of New England. Yet, in the idea of pa])er making, 
 China had the start of us b}'^ a round dozen of centuries. 
 
 The most beautiful i)a])er which I saw in China is the so- 
 called rice paper; a soft, delicate, velvety substance, which 
 takes colors to perfection, and which is very much in demand 
 
JiOG 
 
 A (TKIOIS I'KOCKSS. 
 
 I 
 
 ■'''. I 
 
 i.r 
 
 rl 
 
 I'oi- llic l»i'illi;iiit walci'-color |»;iint in;^s in wliicli llic Cliiiicsi* 
 iirc so ('Xpert. 
 
 1 ol'lcii \\(iii(h'i'('(| liow this |»;i|M'i' \\;is iii.'kIc, so (litl'crciit, 
 is il IVoiii any ollici- similar prodiid I liaNc ever seen, and 
 lia\t' only just learned that it is not |»a|)er at all, but the 
 pilli of a, lar<^'e-leaA('d, hiisli like plant, w liieli ^rows luxu- 
 riantly in tlie province of Kueicliow. My inl'orniant was 
 invited to visit a worker in pith alter ni^lit I'all. Although 
 soMiewliat surpi'ised at (he hour named lieae(('p(ed the in- 
 vitation. On his arrival he was ushered int(; a liadly li<:;iite(l 
 room where a, man was sitt in^' wit h his tools hel'ore him. 
 These consisted ot" a smoot li stone ahoiil a h)ot s(|Uare and 
 an inch and a half thick, and a lar^c knife (»r hatchet with a 
 sliorl- wooden handle. The lilade was altoiil, a, foot lonii", 
 two inches broad and nearly half an inch thick at tiie baci-;. 
 Jt was sharp as a I'azor. I'lacine; a piece of round pith on 
 the stone and his left hand on the top, he rolled the pith 
 biickwai'ds and forwards for a moment until he eol, it into 
 i\\o. rcMpiired position. Tiien, sei/.inu' iIk^ kuih' with his ri^ht 
 liaiid, he held the ed«;(> of ih,. blade, after a feint or two, 
 (;h)se to tin' pith, which he kep' rollino' to the left with his 
 left hand until notliin<;' remaine*. .o I'oll; for the pith iiad, 
 by the a[»piication of the knife, been pared into a, s(|iiare, 
 white sheet of uniform thickness. 
 
 The process seemed so easy that the vlsitoi* detei'mined 
 to try it himself, and, posini;' as a. professional worl;ei', he 
 succeeded in liackin;^' t; pith and in nearly maim in «.;■ him- 
 self for life. Ilt> was convniced that, a, keen eye and a 
 stcsuiy, experience(| hand were needed fol' the woi'k. l''or 
 
 ( 
 
 this reason these sheets ot pith are manufactured only at 
 nie'Iit when the city is asleep and the makers are not liable 
 to b<' disttM'JHtd, 
 
 As we make our way tlii'on<.''li the crowdecl citv we see 
 
 It 
 
IN AM OI'II'M DKN. 
 
 W7 
 
 ^y')v-\)^'<f^m^\ cMiMcinlcd I'liccs wliicli iiidicjilc iiini'(i surely 
 tliiiM the I'cd ii<»st> of llic (lriiiil<:ii'(l, llic NJctiiii of llif o|)iiiiii 
 liiihit. ( )ii(' who liiis lived iiiiy leii^^lli ol' liiiK^ in ('liiii.i eiiii 
 tell :m "<)|»imii lieiid " ;d ;i ;4l;iiiee, and even t<» t lie st ran<^('r 
 llie oH'aetorv oi'j'aiis "live iiiiinediatc and eoneliisive prnol' of 
 one's approach lo an opiiiin den. fn liu'l the |)r<-\ ailin;^' 
 odor oi' ( 'liiiia, the one that lin/^vrs longest in the tourist's 
 nieliKM'V, is the sickening' stench of the opiiini pipe that- 
 seems to he wal'ted aloii;^' {'\{'vy street, a,nd allev and coiiri. 
 In the ceiiler of a, circle of depraAcd (!elestials, swarthy, 
 
 iH 
 
 •*- -* L.J. ^ -. ^' r,' 1, 
 
 " IIITI'INd 'IIIK IMPi:." 
 
 hair naked harharians, asseinhled in a lilt liy den, is a, <lini oil 
 lamp, w ith a, siiKtky chimney. ( )iie of the Chinamen has an 
 opium pip(! with a, ver\' lar^'c stem (so larev that, he has to 
 distend his month to the widest capacity to take it in) and a- 
 vei'y small a|>erlni'e in the howl. With a lon^'; knittini;' 
 needle he lakes IVoin a little jar a wad of slick\' opium 
 ahoiit the size of a, pea. This he melts o\('r the llanie, and 
 then, al'ler rolling' it alMHit <»n the howl ol' the pipe I'or 
 S(n'<'ral minntes, he inserts it deflly in the little hole. 
 
 Tlien he lies down at I'nII length, puts the orilice e<(ntain- 
 iii".;' the opium o\cr the llame. and I'or I wo lilissl'ul nioiiienis 
 
20S 
 
 oriUM FIENDS AND FAN-TAN (JAMULEHS. 
 
 draws in tlio snioko, swallowiii"'- it and oxlialiim" it tiii-oui'h 
 tlio nose. 
 
 Tsot iiioro than tlir(30 or at the most four wliiiTs of siiioko 
 seoni to 1)(! contained in thc! |)i|)(! without rcioach'nn', hut 
 wiicn tii('S(! whill's havo hccn exhausted the ahnond eyes 
 ch)S(i with a sleepy aiiiiual-like content, the |)i|)e is taken 
 h_v son 1(3 other "o|>iuni liend,'" and thc^samc! sh)\v pi'ocess of 
 
 J 
 
 (II'IUM I'lKNDS. 
 
 liB 'w 
 
 lit 
 
 m f 
 
 ])re])aration, foUowed hy the three whill's of Nirvana, fol- 
 lows, and Ko on around tiie cii'cle. 
 
 (Janiblin^ is another l)esettin<^^ sin of .lolm (!hinanian. 
 It is a weird aiul uncanny si^lit to wat(;h a grou|» of fan tan 
 {rambh'rs in tiieir darl< den. l''()ur hintcirns containing 
 smoky candles, and piacied oiu? at each corner of a strip of 
 nuittin^^, serve to illuminates tins sccnie. Aroimd this arc 
 huddled a, motlciy crowd of slant-eyed Monfrolijnis, mostly 
 possessing oidy one <,''arnu;nt, (iither a loos(s shirt or a very 
 
HOW FAN-TAN IN I'LAYEI). 
 
 2iV.) 
 
 l)iig'<^y p.'iii' «)!' trousers, l)ut vci'V seldom ;i coiiibiuatioii of 
 tli('S(^ useful liabiliiiieiits. Kitliei' oik; or iIk; otliei- is full 
 (ii'ess for a fiin-tau <^iuiil»ler. 
 
 '^riie haiikei-'s assistaul, or wlialever lie luav l»e called (I 
 luust ('(nd'ess to a, sad lack' in the way of faii-taii uouieii- 
 clature), takes a liea|iin>4' liaii ll'ul of Cliiuese peunies called 
 cash (little brass |)ieces with ;; sijUare hole in the center 
 and worth about a, tenth of a c 'lit apiece), puts them down 
 in the center of tli(> s(|uare of matting', and places on top 
 what looks like a bin,' brass |)aper-weinlit. 
 
 Then with a sharp-poinled stick he |)ick's the pennies 
 Jiway in little |»iles of four. I'ntil he takes the brass weight, 
 oH' of the cenfi'al pile any one in the cii'cle is at liberty to 
 bet, by |»uttin<i,' his on the center, corner, or edn(' of a stpiare 
 of cloth. If tliei'e proves to be an even niimbei' of bau's ill 
 th(^ pile of jH'imies, one |)osition wins; if one, two, or tlireet 
 inoi'c than itn even luunbei' of fours, souk^ othei' position on 
 the cloth wins. 
 
 After tJK^ weiii'lil, is i-enioved there is no moi'C! bettin«2'. 
 Then the excitement ^'I'ows intense. Every s(iuattin^' li<^'ui'(i 
 leans foi'ward breathlessly <»ver the matting'. All liav<! eyes 
 oidy for the counlei-, who, with his |)ointed wand, is pullin<^' 
 away tlu; littli! ([uai'tettes of cash, slowly and deliberately 
 fi'om the bi<^' pile. (Iradually the pile lessens; twenty only 
 are left, a. do/eii, eiglit, ban', none, aiul then it is more than 
 likely the bank'er r'akes all llu^ silver and ^old (»f tin; 
 •gamblers into his ca|)acious till. l''oi' in fairtan as in 
 ^and)lin«i,' of n liio-her decree, the Iambs u'ct tleeced very 
 syst<!matically, and are only allowed to win often em)U<.^Ii 
 to wluit tlieii" appetite! f<»r the fatal table. 
 
 Victims of loathsome! skin diseases are freipiently mc't 
 with in our walk, and even those! who ai'e sidleiMn^' from a 
 niild kind of leprosy, which, however is not considered con- 
 
 s 
 
 i: 
 If 
 
 !| 
 
 i 
 
270 
 
 SOME ClIINKSE PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 
 tagioiis. AVlicrc tlicro is diseusc to l)o comlKittcd tliore are, of 
 coiii'sc, doctors to j»ly their I'cincdics ; and. vei'V likely, we 
 sliall meet iiioi'e tlian one ol' tiiese wise lookiii;^- diseiples of 
 (4aleii, with liiim.'!' nails some six or ei^i'lit inches lonn- — 
 
 most inconvenient dibits, one 
 wonid think, with which to 
 feel the j)ulse. 
 
 11" we fall sick in China 
 may W(i he spal'ed the added 
 tortnre of a Chinese doctor! 
 Sharks" eyes, powdei'ed chick- 
 ens" livers, and the last hairs 
 on a i'at"s tail ai'c some of 
 the favorite elements in their 
 ■///!//< /■/'/ //ni//'ci>. I nndersl;ind. 
 An unearthly sci'eeching- 
 and nidioly sawiiiu'awny upon 
 some dreadful strinu'ed instru- 
 ment n(,'i fai" oil' j)i'oclaims t hat 
 some of the Celestials are niu- 
 .i^^-K. sieally inc!ine(l ; and, s u )■ e 
 enough, we soon stuml)le uj)or 
 a <4'roii]) suri'oundin^' the nn'n- 
 sti'el, who is |)layin<^' upon an 
 instrument tliat resembles a doid)le head<'<l hammer with two 
 strin,<:,s sti'ctched from the head to the handle. 
 
 The head of the hammer is nnide of parchment, and fi'om 
 this und<'velo|)ed kind of a fiddle lie tortures such awful 
 music as was never heai'd on sea oi' laial. If the insti'u- 
 menlal part of the concert is hideous, the vocal accomj)ani- 
 ment is still more appalling. It cannot Ik; re])resented in 
 English chai'acters, hut a faint attemjjt is something as 
 follows: •• Kyii, k-yi. kyiii. yi, ya."' Imagine all the tom- 
 
 -'-c . 
 
 A LEPrat (UUL OF SlIANdllAr. 
 
 <l 
 
STREET SCENES IN' SHANGHAI. 
 
 271 
 
 cats you ever licai'd jxxilini;' tlx'ii' issues t(» iiuikc iii^lit 
 liidcous t'i'oiii a lU'itilihor's I'oof. and you will have sonu' 
 idi.'a of tiic |»i'()loni:c(l and awful calcrwaulin;^' which .lolin 
 (Jliiuainan calls "music."" 
 
 It is ditlicult to kiU)W when to slop in our walk or in oui- 
 dcscri[)li(jn (^f it. The sli'ccts ijo on foi- miles and miles; one 
 
 A ,11 vi.Mi.i; ( iiiM;si; (iii<iii:sri{.\. 
 
 sti'(>et succeeds anothei' in intei'minalde succession ; lish 
 dealei's and ^I'cen ^^'I'ocers ; ci'ockei'y stores ami wood carv- 
 ers; (|uilt makers i I'oi' (juilt makini:' is a ^-reat industry in 
 Shanghai); undei'takers, with piles of hu^'c, clumsy collins 
 in their warehouse; these, to say nothinii' of ivstaurants and 
 harher shops, and other li'ades and callin<.is, would iill this 
 volume, should I attempt to descrihe a Chinese street as 1 
 have seen it. 
 
37^ 
 
 HUMAN BEASTS OF lUHOEN. 
 
 As \v(> nvr <»l)lin(.(| resolutely t(j turn our luces liouiewunl 
 IVom oui- walk in the streets when (hitv culls to othei- thiucrs 
 so I must resolutely turn uiy uttention and yours, (lour 
 reader, to other thing's than theses wvy conmiouplace, hut 
 very interesliiin-, streets ol' Shan^'hai. 
 
 Let us visit tin; counti-y suburbs of this great city, aiul 
 see what odd si<i-lits are visible there. The (ii'st cause for 
 wouderiueut is, pei'haps, the iminense loads which tli<i 
 coolies bear. Scores of them an,' comino' to market this 
 early morning with a long i)ole ovoi- their shoiddci's, from 
 each end of which is sus[)(!nded a great basket of prodm-e. 
 
 It is sui-|)i-ising what ti-emendous loads these; humun 
 beasts of burden can stagger undei-. Many a, time; liav(! 1 
 seen a cool i(; with a basket of green vegetables holding not 
 less than three bushels, or more than an ordinary Ih.ur 
 barrel, suspended fi'(nn each end of his shoulder pole. 
 Somethnes his basket contains eggs, which are scarce! v less 
 heavy. Let my readers thud< of raising two bari'cls of eggs 
 to their shoulders and trotting off with them at a, lively 
 pace and they will have sonu; idea, of the burdens im])osed 
 on these two-1 ('<>•• '•ed horses. 
 
 Hut the most unj)leasant and ubi(juitous of all are the 
 men carrying licpiid nianur(\ Whole jn-ocessions of these 
 human night-carts do we meet with theii* two odoriferous 
 buckets, holding neai'ly a barrel each, balanced on brawny 
 slioulders. AVo need not complain, lH;w(!ver, of th(3 })assing 
 whitr, if the coolies can spend their lives amid such stenches, 
 and we are the hiss disj)osed to complain when we renuMuber 
 that it is owing to this careful fertilizing and minute cultiva- 
 tion of th<' soil that the liundr(;ds of millions of Chimi an; 
 ke[)t on tlie existence side of tlie starvation point. 
 
 At this time of year (late JJecendjer) cver^'tliing in an 
 agricultural line is at its worst, and Ave must make allow- 
 
chinesp: farms and kak.mp:rs. 
 
 ir;j 
 
 ances for tlio bleakness of the seuson, foi' lliere is "an cji^ci' 
 and a nii)[)in<^' air" in Siiangiiai as well as in Vermont and 
 JVIielii^^aii at this tini(! of y(!ar. TIk; ti'avelef. coinin;;' from 
 .Japan, is struck by tlu^ fact that the (niltivation of llie soil is 
 iiiMch l(;ss careful and systematic in China than in the 
 ^likado's em|)ii-e. In -lapan I'Vi^ry s(|uai'e iiu-h is utilized, 
 the furrows art; as strai;L'ht as inathennitical precision can 
 make them; (iveiy corner ;ind ednin^- is ciii'efully trimmed 
 and s(|uared, until tli(( whole country loiA's like c^ne yreat, 
 carefully-tended, kitchen garden. 
 
 Ah(jut Shanghai, how(;vei', there; is moi'e slovenliness 
 visible;, less care; in litth; thing's, more; I'iigged edges and 
 few<;r kitcluin-garden eifects. iS'evertheless, tin; average 
 Chinaman, in s[)it(; of the \;\v\<. of pictures(|uen(!ss in his 
 fields, is a famous farmer-, and if Horace (ii'(!eley's dictum is 
 true, and if that man desei'ves well of the world who undoes 
 two blades of gi'ass grow where only one gi'ew before, then 
 John (Miinaiuan should ]iave a high meed of praise. 
 
 lie has learn(Ml to perfection the system of rotation of 
 crops, and in many places, as I have before remarked, he 
 W(mld be ashanuid not U) g(;t thi'(,'e if not four crops out of 
 the soil every twcslve months, ^^ol■eover, if he cannot get 
 one crop he will take; another ; he is not particular so hjiig 
 as it brings ric*; to his chop-sticks. 
 
 Look over yonder this frosty Decendjer morning, and 
 
 you will see twenty men wading out into a shallow pond 
 
 which is covered with ice of the thickness of window glass. 
 
 Th(;y seem to be whipping the sui-f^cc; of the pond with long 
 
 bamboo poles ;ind then I'aking something towai'd (hem with 
 
 long band)oo I'akes. I''or a time these strange ant ics puzzle 
 
 us. The men cannot he lishing, neithei- can they be thrash 
 
 ing the surface of the jtoiid for fun. Chinamen do not take 
 
 their si)ort in any such athletic wav. They need all their 
 17 .J 
 
 i 
 
t 
 
 2U 
 
 TIlIMrrV JOHN. 
 
 4 % 
 
 iinisc'lo iind cncvii'V for tin' stern riMtlitics of life, and liavc no 
 supt'i'lliums vital cnci'tiics to expend on (»ut-dooi' ganu's. 
 
 What, tlicn. can tlu'v Ix' doin^'^ A nearer inspection re- 
 solves the invsterv and sliows that thev ai'e <''athei'in<''one of 
 tiieir yearly crops — the ice harvest. The ice dealers of the 
 Kennehecand the J*enol)scot wonld laiiuii at the vei'v idea of 
 such ice ii'atherint''. AVhat I thev wonld sav, store such ten- 
 uous coldness as that I Harvest ice no thicker than your 
 lln^'ernaill You might as well scra|>(^ the I'iine off of the 
 window pane foi" next summer's C(;nsumption or hi'ush the 
 lujiir frost from the grass for use next .Iidy. 
 
 J)Ut John Chinaman knows what he is about, and, not 
 deterred by any contemptuous remarks which his visitoi's may 
 make, he goes right on thrashing the thinly-coated "water 
 with his lon<j' i)iimboos, raking- his brittle hai'vest together, 
 and storing it in gi'(>at straw-thatched ice houses. Then he 
 salts it all down, litei'ally. not figuratively, and thus freezes 
 it aiunv into a solid compact mass ; and, though his ice is not 
 good tor drinking ])ui'i)oses, he has a ])roduct that answers 
 very well for refrig(M'ating uses, and which lasts far into the 
 long hot months of the coming summer. 
 
 But this is only one crop that the thrifty Celestial ob- 
 tains from the same ])atch of soil, for before he flooded it 
 with water for his ice cro}), he had taken a harvest of rice 
 and one of vegetables, and very likely one of fish, from the 
 same two-acre liehL 
 
 '' A fish cro]) from a temporary jiond which only covers 
 the soil for a (]uarter part of the year," you say ; " why, it 
 is impossible ! " Not at all, my rea<ler, and this is the way 
 it is done. The ova are liatched in a sluggish stream or 
 ditch near by, and when the fish have attained an inch or 
 two in length, the field is flooded and the small fry are 
 turned loose into it to feed as l)est they may in the sub- 
 
CANNY FISHERMEN. 
 
 876 
 
 s 
 It 
 
 merged rice stubble. The fast-growiiifj fish soon attiiin an 
 eatal)le size (about six inches in length) and the canny China- 
 man may then be seen wading into the wat(M^ which comes 
 hairway to liis knees, armed with a lish i)oie and a imttom- 
 less bamlxx) basket with a hole in the toj). 
 
 But the lish pole is not for the i)ur|)(jse of catching fish, 
 as might naturally be supfjosed, at least, not in the ordinary 
 way, nor is the basket to hold the Jinny captives, since it is 
 open at both ends. l>iit this is the j/ux/u.s <>2><i'(ni(ll. With 
 his pole he thrashes the water, and when he sees a sudden 
 gleam and something dart into the black mud, he quickly 
 caps the spot with his bottondess basket, and ])utting his 
 hand through the hole in the top, he gro])es around in the 
 mud until he finds the imprisoned fish. Tliis lie transfers to 
 another basket which is slung on his back, and then goes on 
 thrashing the mud and water until he sees once uu)i'e the 
 silver gleam of a fish darting into the mud. 
 
 It will be strange if, on this walk throuo'li Shano'hai's 
 streets and subnri)s, we do not see at least one of the sad 
 processions which, in every part of the world, tell the old, old 
 story of mortality ami decay. I saw many of these funeral 
 corteges in China, but none that interested me more than 
 one I met in Shanghai. 
 
 A wealthy resident had lost his only daughter, and he 
 was determined to show her every token of bai'baric honor. 
 He Avas evidently intent on having Avhat our Hibernian 
 friends Avould call " an iligint funeral." Long b(;fore the 
 mourners came out of the house were the ]^re])arations begun, 
 and bearer after bearer arrived, each bringing some contri- 
 bution to the solemn occasion. First came two coolies carry- 
 ing the inevitable roast pig, varnished and crisp and brown, 
 his ears and tail decorated with red and white and silver em- 
 blems. Then came two others bearing a dressed kid, un- 
 
276 
 
 A CHINKSK I'lNKKAI.. 
 
 cookod and stjindin*,' in ii inost patliclic; attitude with liis 
 Tiioiitli ojum and lusad lian<^in<j;(l()\vii to liisixnccs. Foilouin*^- 
 the boarors (>r tlu; kid wore others caiTying litth; phitlornis 
 cov(M'(!d with rico, V('<,n'tal)h's, and swcctirHiats, whih' on the 
 sweets W(M'<! toy hutterllies and (h-a/^oii flics, ciiihliMnalie oC 
 tlie soul wiiich had taken its lli«^ht. 
 
 Tlusn othef |)ahin(|iiitis canu^ upon tlu; scene. Tn otie wer(! 
 two hn<,n! paper images whicli were to he hiirned at th(^ 
 grave, and tlirough whoso ascending smoke; the soul might 
 lind its way ai)ov(; this sordid, cloudy world. Another palun- 
 (piin eontaimid the; ancestral tahhits; and still another, a 
 great string of mock money, made of paper in ilic form of gold 
 and silv(!r ingots for the spirit's us<;. These, I was told, were 
 to l)(! burned to propitiate the gods, and that the deceased 
 might have some chang(! for her long Journey. At last, aftcT 
 much delay, the colfin, ])r(!ce(l(!d by six Buddhist pri(ists in 
 flaming yc'llow robes, was brought out of the; houseof mourn- 
 ing. It was (juite ditfer(;nt from our cotlins oi' caskets, and 
 tapered gradually from the; head to tin; fe{;t, looking not un- 
 like the nuimmy cask<!ts which one sees in the British museum. 
 Over the colIin a, bi'illiaiit cano])y in i-ed and gold cloth was 
 then i'ais(!d, and on IIk; cano])y a papei' stoi'k at least three 
 feet in height, was fasti^ni'd. (Isually, a paj)er cock has this 
 ])ost of honor, \ am told, but on this occasion it was an unmis- 
 takable I ile-si/e stoi'k. Then camciout the family fri(;n(ls,and 
 a truly pitiabh; sight liny presented, for gri(!f is tin; same in 
 all lands. 'I'lie grotes(|ueness of the; suri'oundings could mjt 
 altogeth(;r disguise; the soi-row, though of course, 1 am not 
 ]>r(;pai-e(l to say that the (excessive weeping and wailing and 
 agoni/,e<l outcries were; all of geiiuiiU! grief. But who will 
 dare sav that thev were not I 
 
 The fathe)' of the damsel came first, almost bent to the 
 ground by his soi'row, while on eithei- side; Ik; was suj)[)orted 
 
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STKAN(;i; ITNKUAL ( KKKMONIKS. 
 
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 lie. 
 
 id 
 
 hy a itiutc, wlio was iirriiy<'<l, liko tli(! f'iitlu'i", in sackclotli 
 and wliitd linen. Then niuw. tin; niotlicr likcwisi^ sii|)|»()rt('(l, 
 followi'd hy tlic ln'otlici's ail bent d()id)l(! witli tlicii" sorrow, 
 ^i'oiinin«^ und WiH'pin;^' and wi'in<;'in^- llirii- luinds. 'riiiis tlio 
 pitiful |)F'of;(ission moved uloii;,'', the roast pi;^'' and tlic! un- 
 booked kid, the ve;^(!tal)les iind the swec^tmeats, the pap(!r 
 iina<^es and tlu! Ilesh-and-hlood mourners, tiie mock money 
 and the narrow hoiisf; with its lonely o(;(;upant, surmounted 
 by th(i many-colored ))apei' stork; all moved slowly <ni, 
 followtid by tin; mor(^ distant mournei's in jini'ikishas. 
 
 JIow unsp(!akably sad is such a si^ht! Mortality un- 
 chceJHid by any ti'U(; ho))c of immoi'tality I Death iri-adiated 
 by no i'casonal)le assui'anc(( of lil'e! T\n' ^i-avc; with the 
 stone still at its dismal cntr;rnce, not yet rolled away. 
 
 No wondoi', () lathcir and moth(?r, that yjs ai'e bow(!d 
 <lown with ^'rier <'ven to tlu; erouiid! No wonder that yo 
 weep and wail as those without ho|)e ! 
 
 At the ^rav(! tln^ j)ap(!r ima«^-es and the mo(;k money arc 
 l)urned, and the pajHU' stork i'(!(luced to ashes. Some j)or- 
 tions of the food are hilt at the g'i'ave foi* the dead to feed 
 U])on, but most of it is oaten by the survivors, who i-enuirk 
 as th(!y masticate the g-enerous ])rovisions, " I low stran<^(! it 
 is that this poi'k has no taste!" "How singular that the 
 si)irits should have taken all the goodness out of tlu.'se veg(i- 
 tables ! " "The departed have evidently been hcilping them- 
 .selves to these swe(;ts, for thcA'c, is no tast(! left in them." 
 
 lIow(!ver, in spit(! of the assumed tastcjlessness of the 
 funeral baked nu;ats, which is always r(!mark(Ml u|)on, the 
 mourn(;rs manages to make a vety good meal upon the ci-isp 
 loast pork and toothsome confections. Oftentimes the 
 bodies of the dead are kej)t for months, hei-metically seakid, 
 in the house of the r(»!atives, and in thcs neighboi'hood of 
 fcJhanghai the body is always bui'ied o>dy wheris tli<! pi'iests 
 
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 278 
 
 THE BABY TOWERS OF SHANGHAI. 
 
 V 
 
 indicate. There seem to be no cemeteries set apart for the 
 dead, but the whole vicinity of Shanghai is one vast grave- 
 yard. 
 
 On this walk into the country, which Ave have been 
 taking together this December morning, we have seen scores 
 and hundreds of little mounds unmarked except by a slight 
 swell in the uneven soil, each of which tells where many 
 bodies have been deposited. Scores of coffins, too, are seen, 
 either carelessly set down by the roadside, or half buried 
 under a few spadesfull of soil in the fields near by. 
 
 But the most pathetic sight in the neighborhood of 
 Shanghai is the baby towers, into which are unceremo- 
 niously thrust the bodies of children who die before they 
 have attained their first birthday. According to the Chinese 
 idea they have no souls before they cut their first teeth. It 
 matters little, therefore, what becomes of these tiny, soul- 
 less Avaifs, and so they are thrown, almost before the life is 
 out of their little bodies, into these dismal, eyeless towers, 
 which liere and there dot the horizon. When the tower is 
 filled to the roof, the little bones are shoveled out as uncere- 
 moniously as they were thrown in, and another lot of infant 
 bodies fill the horrid cavity. 
 
 What else could be expected with Chinese views of 
 infant life? What respect is due a soulless infant? How 
 different this treatment from that of Ilim Avho took little 
 children up in his arms and blessed them, who said : " Suffer 
 the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for 
 of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." 
 
CIIAPTEK XV. 
 
 A JOURNEY THROUGH TROPIC SEAS. 
 
 A Delightful Voyage — Liquid Fire — The Sacred White Ox — The Gharri 
 — The " L Road " and the Bullock Bandy — Fan Palms of Singapore — 
 A Tree that Casts no Shadow — How the Bandy Driver Stimulates his 
 Steeds — An Effective Threat — Chewing a Bullock's Tail to make 
 him go — Picturesque Wharf Venders — " Papa Dive " — Scrambling for 
 Nickels — A Walk in Penang — Mangosteens and Jack-fruit — Assa- 
 fa'tida and Onions — The Indian Juggler — A Man with a Gizzard — 
 The MaMgo Tree Trick and the Girl in the Basket — The Last of the 
 Chinaman — Ceylon's Spicy Breezes — The Waggish Captain's Joke — 
 The Odors of Colombo — A Horrible Combination — The Catamaran — 
 The Two Instincts of the Singhalese — Persistent Shopkeepers — Be- 
 sieged by Beggars — Baby Merchants and their Wares — The Cinna- 
 mon Gardens — An Ancient Turtle — Brawny Barbarism and Miss 
 Nancy ism. 
 
 ^HE journey from Ilong Kong to 
 Colombo occupies about tliirteen 
 days over tropic seas. The first 
 few days from Ilong Kong, with 
 the northwest monsoon blowing 
 half a gale, are apt to be rather 
 uncomfortable for lovers of 
 terra firm a; but, as we travel 
 southward, the weather grows 
 gentler, the sea grows smoother, 
 and before we reach Singapore 
 we vote this journey to be one of 
 the most delightful on any ocean. Tliere are usually few 
 signs of life at sea, but on this voyage flying fish flit from 
 wavelet to wavelet, and at night the j)iio])horescent animal- 
 
 cula turn all the surrounding ocean into waves of licjuid fire 
 
 ■ (279) 
 
280 
 
 THE SACRED WHITE OX OF INDIA. 
 
 as our good ship i)lows its way through this brilliant but 
 harmless flame. 
 
 Occasionally a passing steamer causes all the passengers 
 to unstrap their field glasses and level them at the distant 
 stranger. Occasionally, also, a helpless sailing vessel is seen 
 in the distance, in a dead calm, with flapping sails and 
 drooping pennant ; its crew devoutly wishing, doubtless, for 
 the aid of steam, which carries us so swiftly along 
 
 Singapore, in the Straits Settlements, is the first stopping 
 place for steamers bound for India, and here we have our 
 
 SACRED WHITE OXEN. 
 
 introduction to Indian life. Here for the first time we see 
 the typical white oxen with humps on their backs, just 
 behind their necks, and with gaily painted horns, one red 
 and one blue ; a sight wlrich becomes very familiar after a 
 few days in India, for the ox is not only sacred in this land, 
 but is also the indispensable beast of burden. Here, too, we 
 are first introduced to the universal Indian vehicle, the 
 ghart'L 
 
 Nothing is more indicative of the character of a people 
 than the vehicles in which they ride. We are tempted to 
 perpetrate a second-hand aphorism to the effect that if you 
 will show us the carriages in which a people ride we will tell 
 
A TREE THAT CASTS NO SHADOW, 
 
 ^81 
 
 you the character of the people who ride in them. The " L 
 road" and electric street car are as typical of the hurrying, 
 impatient American cliaracter as the ram-shackle bullock 
 bandy is of the careless, easy, happy-go-lucky Hindu of 
 Southern India. 
 
 In Japan the universal jinrikishai is always with us at 
 every railway station and in almost every country village 
 througliout the empire. In Hong Kong the sedan chair 
 bears the traveler aloft above the heads of the flocking 
 throng. In Shanghai the wheelbarrow, with its large cen- 
 tral wheel and its seat on either side for two persons, shows 
 the highest aspiration of the average Chinaman, so far as 
 locomotion goes. But in Singapore and throughout India, 
 the gharri is the common carriage for the better classes. It 
 is not a bad one either, for a hot country, with its double 
 roof, and latticed, movable blinds on all sides, which admit 
 the air and exclude the sun. It seems to be, on the whole, 
 the best public carriage that can be devised. 
 
 In Singapore, however, jinrikishas are also used and are 
 most gorgeously painted Avith huge gold Chinese figures on 
 their broad backs. 
 
 The most interesting drive is to the Botanical Gardens, 
 which are extensive and well worth visiting, especially for 
 their beautiful fan palms, whose leaves radiate from a com- 
 mon center, forming a huge representation of our common 
 palm-leaf fan, with a great trunk for the handle and the 
 branching leaves for the fan. It would take a giant, to 
 be sure, to wield such a fan, but the representation is conv 
 plete on a colossal scale. 
 
 When these palms are planted at different angles they 
 form a very picturesque addition to the landscape of a 
 garden. Looked at edgewise the tree is almost as thin as a 
 sheet of paper and can hardly cast a shadow in the brightest 
 
282 
 
 CHEWING A bullock's TAIL. 
 
 sunlight, but looked at from the front or from behind, the 
 huge spreading fan presents a perfect shield to all within its 
 shade. 
 
 Here, in Singapore, too, we see the great straw-thatched 
 bandy with patient bullocks hitched to it; and in this 
 bandy, when gharris Avere not to be had, we have been more 
 than once glad to ride, shielded as we were from the hot 
 Indian sun, and getting over the road, not at lightning 
 
 THE BULLOCK CART. 
 
 speed, but at the rate of three or four miles an hour, which 
 is very good trotting for these little animals. 
 
 The bandy driver usually stimulates the speed of his 
 bullocks not only by judicious application of a short stick, 
 but more often by twisting their tails, in a way that seemed 
 to us most cruel and inhuman ; Avhile one driver, who could 
 not get sufficient speed out of his bovine steeds, in his de- 
 spair actually grasped the tail of one of them in his teeth 
 and began to chew it vigorously as "a discourager of hes- 
 itancy" on the road. We were obliged more than once 
 to threaten our bandy-drivers and "gharriwallahs" with the 
 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, unless 
 they desisted from their practices. 
 
AT THE WHARF AT SINGAPORE. 
 
 283 
 
 Whether our threats were understood or not, or whether 
 "the society with the long name" is known in Singapore I 
 am not sure, but in every case our vigorous protest seemed 
 to have its desired effect, and the poor animals trotted along 
 without so much applied stimulus from the outside. 
 
 But more interesting to us than the busy streets of Singa- 
 pore with their squalid inhabitants, or even beautiful botan- 
 ical gardens, were the crowds of young adventurers that 
 swarmed to the wharf with various wares and temptations 
 for our pocketbooks. 
 
 Here were boats loaded with most curious and beautiful 
 shells, lovely nautilus shells, huge, flat, pearly mussel shells 
 (so thin it seemed impossible for any living animal to find a 
 home between the two discs), crinkly, curly, spiral shells of 
 every hue and possible curve. From other boats great 
 branches of coral, red, white, and pink, tempted the pur- 
 chaser. Still other men, with gaudy turbans and brilliant 
 cloths round their waists, offered for sale parrots of even 
 more gaudy plumage than themselves ; while others came 
 down to the wharf with great baskets of delicious pine- 
 apples, for the straits are the very home of the " pine," and 
 nowhere else is it found of finer flavor or of larger size. 
 
 In the water about the steamer were scores of naked 
 boys ready to dive for a piece of money which the amused 
 traveler might throw them. Every grown-up stranger to 
 them is either " papa " or " mamma," according to the sex of 
 the person addressed ; while all European boys are yclept 
 " Charlie " by them, however they were christened by their 
 parents. So, as we three pilgrims looked over the side of 
 the vessel, scores of vigorous voices would cry out, " Papa 
 dive," "Papa dive," "Mamma dive," "Mamma dive," 
 " Charlie dive," " Charlie dive." This did not mean that 
 the pilgrims should take headers into the water, as the im- 
 
284 
 
 A SCRAMBLE UNDER WATER. 
 
 perative mood scemod to indicate, ]jut that these brown- 
 skinned natives in tiie boats wouhl (exhibit tlieir powers if 
 only the inducement of a live-cent bit was thrown into the 
 water. As at Honolulu and other places Avhere we liave 
 watched the ])erformance, when the little silver piece began 
 to flutter down beneath the waves, what a commotion there 
 was among the twenty ])oats! Twice twenty sujjple, clean- 
 limbed little fellows would jump into the water, their wrig- 
 gling toes and the white soles of their feet would appeal- for 
 a moment above the waves, Avhile underneath the disturbed 
 waters would ])rove that they were grabbing and scrambling 
 after the silver bit. Soon one brown hand would appear 
 above the surface followed by another and another, until 
 gradually the Avhole up))er surface was brown with hands 
 and heads, and, pufHng and blowing, the whole little regiment 
 of divers would come bobbing to the toj) ; the strongest and 
 most expert usually having the silver piece safely tucked 
 away in his clieek. 
 
 In the meantime, their little dug-out canoes would, very 
 likely, float off to quite a distance, some of them Avould fill 
 with water, others Avould (lisa])pcar in different directions ; 
 but they would soon collect their pro[)erty, get into their 
 several canoes, bale them out with a (juick, dexterous motion 
 of the foot, which shoveled out sutticient water to keep 
 them from sinking, and then their occupants were ready for 
 another dive, if " Papa," or " Mamma," or " (jharlie " would 
 only favor them with a five-cent ])iece. 
 
 Two days after leaving Singai)ore we reached Penang, 
 and as we looked out of our cal)in j)orthole early in the 
 morning, we found our stearujr at anchor and surrounded by 
 gaily ])ainted sam])ans ; red and white and blue of the most 
 vivid hues were the jirevailing colors, 
 
 "Mahommed Baboo" had his name painted in flaring 
 
A MOST HORRIBLE COMBINATION. 
 
 285 
 
 letters on one of these hi-illiunt bouts, juid for the sake of his 
 nume, perhaps, more than for any otlier reason (it sounded 
 so distinctly Oriental), wo chose his sampan and were rowed 
 asiiore for the modest sum of liv(? cents each. 
 
 Penang is an unintei'estin^- place, and its few sights 
 scarcely pay for the necessary walk in the liot sun. Such 
 gorj^eous costumes as one here sees, such Oriental disrej^ard 
 of any costume at all, would he startlin<^ in any other })ort 
 of the world, though here these scanty jrarments seem by 
 no means so inappro[)riate as in cooler latitudes. 
 
 The fruit stores are filled with strange ])roducts which 
 look very odd to our unaccustomed eyes. AV^e induIgiHl in 
 some of them, and found, that while a few were delicious, 
 others re(|uired a long course of education in order to a))pre- 
 ciate them. The numgosteen, for instance, a fruit about the 
 si/e of an apple, with a dull, reddish color, is most spicy and 
 fragrant and refreshing. One never is obliged to learn to 
 like tiie mangosteen. 
 
 The jack fruit, on the other hand, which our hxpiacious 
 guide persuaded us to buy, asserting that it was most deli- 
 cious, proved to be a most horrible combination of bad onions 
 and assafuitida. After hanging a specimen of this fruit up 
 in our stateroom for an hour of two, the cabin became 
 utterly uninhabitable for several hours, until it had been 
 fumigated and opened in all directions to the breezes of 
 heaven. We are told by oUl inhabitants of the countiy, 
 however, that our guide was not far wrong, that the jack- 
 fruit is really by no means so bad as its odor indicates. 
 However, we wei'e satisfied with what one of our senses told 
 us concerning it, and we did not attempt to iind out whether 
 it tjisted as badly as it smelled. 
 
 Here in Penjing, too, we saw our first Indian juggler. 
 He came aboard the ship while she was lying at anchor, and 
 
280 
 
 THE UNCANNY INDIAN JUG(iLEK. 
 
 performed all his stock of tricks, which are decidedly inter- 
 esting when lii'st viewed, but which became somewhat stale 
 when, one after another, a dozen jngnl(>rs did exactly the 
 same tricks in tiie same way ; each one talkin<^ cheap-jack 
 patter to attract or distract the attention of tiie s])ectators. 
 
 In spite, however, of the sameness of his tricks, the 
 Indian juj^^g-ler is a very clever fellow. He will cause a little 
 l)ebble to make its way iind(M' a bi'ass cup, without hands, 
 when he is a])parently six feet away, and when the spectator 
 is willing to take his oath that the cu]) is absolutely empty. 
 He will })ick another ])ebble out of your shoe or a large stone 
 out of your pocket, though you are very confident you are 
 not cari'ying a small (juarij' about your ])ei'son. Jle will 
 show you an innocent little ball of yarn in his hands, as big 
 as a large bullet, and after speaking to the ball for a moment, 
 it will be transformed into a little paroquet, which opens its 
 bill and squeaks and makes a " salaam " at the command of 
 its nuister. 
 
 He will put an egg shell in a little cloth bag, slap the bag 
 around in the most vicious manner on the deck, against his 
 own shins, or on a projecting spar, will then take the bag 
 in both hands and wring it so vigorously that you are sure 
 that not even a fly could live Avithin its folds; then coolly 
 opening the mouth of the bag, the egg shell, unharmed 
 and sound, will roll out u))on the deck at your feet. 
 
 He Avill open his mouth and take out one pebble after 
 another, until you are convinced that he has a gizzard like a 
 turkey's, and that he keeps a store of stones lor digestive 
 purposes in his gullet, for they all seem to come v.ip from the 
 de])tlis of his throat. One, two, three, four, up to nine of 
 these pebbles he will disgorge, and then, with a convulsive 
 effort by which he seems to be throwing up his Adam's 
 apple itself, will come, one after the other, four large stones 
 
FOLLOWERS OP THE "BLACK ART," 
 
 287 
 
 as big as liens' ('<^<'s, which ho will add to the pile of the 
 sniallor stones at his feet. 
 
 JJefore your very eyes ho will ])lant a dry, withered 
 manf>-o-stone. After |)ronouncin<i^ a low (oiijurer's incanta- 
 tions over this stone, and ])assin<^ a handkerchief ()ver it, you 
 lind, to your sur|)riso, that it has spi'outed into a little mango 
 tree with four tiny leaves. Another incantatioti and the 
 tree has grown into a sizeable bush with thi-ee or four 
 
 I 'i 
 
 l) '■ wl 
 
 THE FAMOUS BASKET THICK. 
 
 branches ; still another spell iu pronounced and the bush has 
 become a tree, from which he will pluck and hand you a ripe 
 and luscious mango, even if it be not in the mango season. 
 
 The "basket trick" is also a favorite with these followers 
 of the " black art." A young girl, often a very ])retty girl, 
 is tied together with long, stout ropes, which seem to be 
 knotted most securely. The girl is then crowded into a 
 wicker basket, larger at the bottom but growing smaller 
 towards the top, where the hole is just large enough to 
 
288 
 
 THE FAMOUS BASKET TRICK. 
 
 admit her body. Then the Cv)njurer takes an ugly-looking- 
 sword, which is, however, probably far more harmless than 
 it appears, and deliberately jabs right and left, iij) and down, 
 backwards and forwards, into the basket. Through the center 
 and out at every side the sword is seen to stick, while one is 
 willing to aver, by all that is true, that it is impossible for 
 the sword to escape the body of the imprisoned girl. Most 
 recklessly the juggler lunges at the basket. For the sake 
 of heightening the effect, the girl emits timid little scjucals 
 once in a while, and sometimes red fluid, that looks like 
 blood, pours from the side of the basket. But, a few mo- 
 ments after, the girl, who has apparently been stabbed in a 
 hundred places, steps forth from her prison-house smiling, 
 unbound, and unharmed. 
 
 Five days from Penang brings us to Colombo, where we 
 have our first glimpse of genuine Indian lifp. Hitherto, the 
 ubiquitous Chinaman has been before us everywhere. He 
 has monopolized the markets, crowded out the natives, 
 trundled the jinrikisha, and cheated us with bare-faced impu- 
 dence. But before getting to Colombo he seems to stop 
 short, and there we see only the natives of the soil. To be 
 sure there are many people from the mainland of India, who 
 have come to the more fertile island of Ceylon to find work 
 when their crops have failed. But the Singhalese and the 
 natives of Southern India speak the same language, and 
 resemble one another very much in customs and costumes. 
 
 The glorious missionary hymn, which every young Chris- 
 tian learns as soon as he knows the Lord's Pra3'er, has 
 throvn a peculiar halo of romance around this beautiful 
 island of the coral seas, and more romantic day dreams have 
 centred here than upon any other spot on the face of the 
 earth. One is quite prepared to detect the " spicy breezes " 
 long before he sights the palm-girt shores of Ceylon. 
 
Ceylon's fragrant isle. 
 
 289 
 
 A waggish captain of whom wo liave heard, taking 
 advantage of this universal expectation horn of the old 
 hvnin, while the passengers were at "tiflRn," smeared the 
 rail of the upper deck with oil of cloves and cinnamon. Just 
 as the vessel neared the land, the passengers came up from 
 their lunch one after another ; the spicy odors were strong 
 and pungent, and were cited hy the captain as proof positive 
 that the breeze was blowing "soft o'er Cevlon's isle." It 
 was not till he readied Calcutta that he exi)lained the little 
 joke, and dispelled the romantic notions of fair Ceylon. 
 
 One is sure to believe, when he first lands at Colombo, 
 that the breezes are anything but spicy, for all sorts of 
 odors Avhicli make up the usual smells of a large seaport city 
 greet one as he steps ashore. IMoreover, if one penetrates 
 far into the native town, he will be still more convinced that 
 there are other odors besides those of clove and cinnamon 
 which are wafted abroad in Ceylon. 
 
 As every place has its characteristic vehicle, so every sea- 
 port has its characteristic native boat. Tlie sli))per boat of 
 Canton gives way in Kobe to the larger and clumsier lighter 
 of Japan. This in turn is displaced by the gorgeously 
 painted sampan of Penang, Avhile in Colombo none of these 
 styles of boat building are seen, but a curious double-keeled 
 catamaran, with large out-riders, and so narrow that a 
 passenger can barely squeeze his two legs between the sides 
 of the very rakish-looking little craft. However, the cata- 
 maran is by no means so insecure as it appears, l)ut, owing 
 to the large out-rider, it is able to brave almost any sea 
 in safety. 
 
 The harbor of Colombo, though protected by a long and 
 expensive breakwater, is not, by any means, a quiet haven, 
 and such boats as these are the only ones, besides the steam 
 
 tugs, that Avill lie in the turbulent surf that sometimes breaks 
 
 18 
 
290 
 
 THE SWARMING STREETS. 
 
 IS. 
 
 on the shore. AV(> were seized ujion as we stood upon the 
 deck of the Jlitlirn by lialf a score of importunate boatmen, 
 and were ahnost })ulled lind) JVom limb in theii- anxiety to 
 secure us for their little craft. At last, assertin<^ our ri<j;ht 
 to t)wnership in our beleaguered ])ersons, we transferred our- 
 seh'"s and our baggagj^ to the least importunate of our 
 1; 3n and were rowed safely to the i)ier. 
 
 .•e, again, the struggUi to possess us and <^ur baggage 
 was renewed. I'aiidynien and coolies, liotel runnei's and 
 guides, besiege us from every (juarter, jabberitig and ])ulling 
 and jostling and ])nshing, with all the importunate impei'ti- 
 nence of cab drivers at Niagara in the ohU'ii time. Again 
 we are com])elled to assert our claim to our own ])ersonality, 
 and, after seeing our baggage duly installed in a. bullock 
 bandy, we walk on Ix'hind aftei' the custom of travelers in 
 Colondx), until we i-eached our roomy and comfoi-table hotel. 
 Even the walk to the lH)tel r«n'eals a conglomerate 
 ])ictures(|ueness in the swarming streets, which i)romises well 
 for the intei'est of our stay in (\)lombo. lici-c nro white- 
 tui'baiu'd Hindus, 'vith long white cloths over their shoulders 
 and round their loins; I'rahmins with little spots of sacred 
 yellow ashes on their foreheads; Hivites with three vertical 
 lines, two white and one red, to indicate that they are wor- 
 shipers of Siva, the cruel goddess; and nmny other Hindus 
 Avith dilferent liiu's and spots of sacred ashes to show the 
 ])articular bi-and of their heathenism. Here, too, Mahom- 
 medans in I'ed fe/zes and I'arsees in high glazed hats mingle 
 with the throng, and hei'e and there a Kui'oju'an, shaded by 
 an immense ])ith helmet, which often comes tlown over his 
 features like; a mushroom over a diminutive toa<l. Naked 
 childi-en, many of them with beautiful black eyes and be- 
 Avitching curly hair, swai'ui everywhere. Before they are 
 able to speak they learn to hold out their little hands in 
 
HKSIK(iKl> HY nK(J({AUS. 
 
 201 
 
 boffffivrv, for two instincts soom to have been fully (IovcIoihmI 
 anion;^ the inhabitants of ('()h)inb() — the coininoivial in- 
 stinct and the facuUy for bci>i>in^. lU><;<^ai's swarm ovory- 
 whoro, with all sorts of claims on human sympathy, revolt- 
 in*^ and dis^'ustin^ onou<;'h oftentimes, thrusting their de- 
 formities and loathsome diseases into your very face and 
 oyo« u oi'dei" that they might excite your pity. 
 
 Of all ti'aders that I have ever seen, the Coloml)o sho)> 
 k«H^[)er is most persistent, vivacious, and vigorous. (\M'tain 
 lines of business seem lo be oviM'stocked in this little city, 
 especially the trade in i)reci()us stones, — moonstones, saj)- 
 ])hires, and rubies. It is safe to say that (>very second man 
 whom we meet on the street has his ])ock(^t full of ])recious 
 stones, either real or imitation, most likely the latti'r, which 
 ho is bound you should huy, if his elocpient persistency can 
 induce you t<> ))art with your rupees. From evei'V shop 
 <loor and Avindow comes the heseiH'hing invitation, " Lady 
 buy" ; "Master come in " ; " Master look, just look, need not 
 l)uy"; "Do come, master"; " Mamma, please look hero," 
 Every few stejjs a proprietoi- of a jewelry bazaar will rush 
 out at you with a handful of moonstones and sapphires, 
 which ho will insist on your taking. If you a.ss(>i't you have 
 no money to si)ai'(\ he will tell you that he will trust yim, 
 and that you can take the jewels home with you to America, 
 and send him the money when you are convinc(>d of thoir 
 value. Such conll«ling trust in human natuni I hav(^ not 
 seen elsowliere, and when 1 asked for the ivason of this con- 
 fidence in a ])assing traveler, I was assured tliat the dealci's 
 could well all'ord to take the risk involved in the oiTer, and 
 that, though tlu^y occasionally lost their jewels, they made up 
 for it amply by tho enormous price Avhich they obtained 
 from other ])eople for com pa i-a lively w<n'thless stones. 
 
 Even the children scarcely out of babyhood ac(iuii'e tho 
 
I? 
 
 I 
 
 293 
 
 A MANIA FOR TRADING. 
 
 mania for trading, and they will run by the side of your 
 gharri by the half liour with bouquets of bright-coloi-cd 
 flowers and canes and every imaginable trinket, with which 
 they think they can beguile the unwary traveler. If you 
 refuse to buy they will thnjw the bouquet into the carriage 
 at you, crying out in their childish treble : " Take it, master, 
 it's yours"; "It's a gift, mamma." If, however, you take 
 them at their word and actually accept the boutjuet as a 
 gift, they will follow you weeping and wailing and beseech- 
 ing you to pay them for it, and make your life miserable 
 until you either throw back the worthless little bunch of 
 flowers or give them a half anna as its price. 
 
 The Cinnamon Gardens just outside the busy streets of 
 Colombo are by no means as impressive and as beautiful as 
 their romantic name indicates to foreign ears, for the cinna- 
 mon bush is rather a scraggy shrub, without any special 
 characteristics in outward a})pearance to distinguish it from 
 a hundred other bushes in the jungle. As one crushes the 
 leaves in his hands, however, or scrajics the tender l)ark 
 from the branch.^ the delicious odor of the cassia ])lant is per- 
 ceived, and one is tempted to buy all the gnarled and ugly 
 sticks which are for sale, for the sake of the spicy fragrance. 
 
 Here, too, every tropical fruit grows with the utmost 
 luxuriance. Unlike Southern India, Ceylon is frequently 
 visited by refreshing showers which wash Nature's face and 
 keep it always smiling. Long rows of cocoanut, bread-fruit, 
 and jack-fruit trees line the country roads, and some mag- 
 nificent views tempt one to linger beneath their shade. 
 
 A few miles from Colomljo is a fine estate, noted among 
 other things for its ancient turtle, which is known to be at 
 least 400 years old ; since it has been upon the title deeds (^f 
 that ])roperty for that length of time. It lies in a little 
 pool of fresh water in a valley near the seashore, and never 
 
AN ANCIENT AND HONORABLE TURTLE. 
 
 293 
 
 attempts to wander away to greener fields and pastures 
 new. In the liot weather, however, the pool dries up, and 
 then his turtleship every morning marches majestically up 
 to the bungalow to have cold water thrown over his })arclied 
 and dusty carapace. When he has been sufficiently re- 
 freshed with nuiny buckets of water he goes bad: to his 
 valley again, until he is ready for another refreshing 
 shower bath. 
 
 As in other Eastern countries, everything here is done out 
 of doors. In Colombo the fruit stores and shoe shops, the 
 barber, cabinet makers, and jewelry dealers all do their 
 trading and bargaining and mechanical work with as few 
 partitions between them and the general public as possible. 
 
 Everywhere we meet semi-naked coolies carrying huge 
 baskets of vegetables and other provisions, dry goods and 
 hardware, and every article known to commerce, upon their 
 stalwart shoulders. Loads which would crush an average 
 European to the ground they hoist to their shoulders or lift 
 to their heads, and trot off with them as though burdened 
 only with a feather duster. 
 
 The Singhalese men wear high tortoise-shell combs, 
 which give them a very odd appearance. To see a stalwart, 
 muscular man Avitli a little girl's tortoise-shell comb perched 
 on the top of his head is a combination of brawny barba- 
 rism and Miss Nancyism, which is very amusing. 
 
 But we have lingered as long as our journey Avill permit 
 amid the soft breezes of Cevlon, and must take the steamer 
 across the turbulent strait that separates us from the main- 
 land of India. 
 
\^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IN SOUTHERN INDIA. 
 
 Journey with a Bad Reputation — Landing at Tuticorin — Railway 
 Traveling in India — A New Use for a Dirty Sock — Preparing for Hot 
 Weather — House Building in the Tropics — " Give the Sun no Chance " 
 — Horses under Pith Hats — Barren India — On tlie Ragged Edge of 
 Famine — Gaunt Starvation — Disputing with the Ants — Buffaloes 
 and LoUfe -legged Goats — A Sunset Scene — A Missionary Bungalow — 
 A Girls' Boarding School — How They Make up Their Beds — An In- 
 ventory of a Maiden's Jewels — A Missionary's Manifold Labors — A 
 Picnic in the Jungle — The "Nine Lac Garden" — Serious Duties 
 Again — A Bicycle Story — The Good Devil and his Terrible Bell — 
 "Tell Me Your Name, Good Devil " — Bound in the Shackles of the 
 Caste System — Encouragement for the Future — A Brave Brahmin. 
 
 HE journey from Colombo to Tuti- 
 corin has anvthino; but an envia- 
 ble reputation, but it is like some 
 people whose reputation is worse 
 than their actual character, or 
 who at least have lucid intervals 
 when their better natures pre- 
 vail. We found the short journey 
 of a day and a night between 
 the two ports very pleasant and 
 restful. The British India 
 ^ steamer was large and com- 
 
 fortable ; the sea Avas smooth and smiling ; and even the 
 dreaded landing at Tuticorin, which had been pictured to us 
 as a most harrowing experience, was by no means as bad as 
 
 we expected. 
 
 (294) 
 
a 
 
 RAILWAY TRAVEL IN INDIA. 
 
 295 
 
 On all this southern coast of India there is not a good 
 harbor, and Tuticorin, like the great capital of Madras, is sit- 
 uated on the stormy, surf -beaten shore of the open ocean. 
 
 At Tuticorin passengers are taken ashore by a small, 
 puffing, bobbing tug-boat, whose gyrations often try even 
 the strongest stomach. Calm as was the day on which 
 we landed, the little steamer which came to take us off 
 jumped and bumped against her larger sister, and threatened 
 to tear away the gangway which had been let do\vn for us 
 to descend. However, by skillful manoeuvring, we got away 
 from the great ship's side without any serious damage, and, 
 in course of time, we landed at the tiny wharf which ran out 
 from the shore. 
 
 Tuticorin is a long, low, rambling, native town, contain- 
 ing about twenty European inhabitants. It does not invite 
 the traveler to linger long in its hot and dusty streets. AVo 
 found our way to the railway station and were soon aboard 
 the train for Madura, the largest city of Southern India. 
 
 Railway traveling in Southern India has some peculiari- 
 ties which distinguish it from travel in other parts of the 
 world. The distances are long, the trains are slow, and 
 much of the journey must be done at night, so that every 
 first and second-class car has a sleeping compartment. But 
 do not imagine for a moment, my reader, that a Pullman or 
 "Wagner have cast their inventive spell over the Indian rail- 
 Avays. Far from it, as you will find before you have spent a 
 night on one of them. There are two tiers of berths on each 
 side of each compartment running lengthwise with the car, 
 and sometimes three tiers, and on these narrow shelves one 
 must curl up, providing his own blankets and pillows, and 
 thus pass as comfortable a night as circumstances will permit. 
 
 Many travelers take their own servants with them, who 
 make up their beds and look after their baggage, and even 
 
r 
 
 5>9G 
 
 A NEW WAY TO MAKE COFFEE. 
 
 provide them Avitli lunches from the capacious hampers, 
 whicli are usually taken along on such journeys. A servant 
 is not necessary, however, but is often felt to be rather in 
 the way by those who are accustomed to wait upon them- 
 selves. There are occasional eating houses provided at the 
 stations along the route, and any number of coolies may be 
 hired at a moment's notice, Avho, for a quarter of an anna, 
 or one cent, will carry your baggage for any reasonable 
 distance. 
 
 The ideas of some of these native servants who are picked 
 up by the round-the-world traveler, as to the proprieties of 
 civilized life, are sometimes startling. To this, that traveler 
 will testify who woke up one morning and looked aghast as 
 he saw his servant straining his morning coffee through one 
 of his socks Avhich had been discarded the night before. 
 Springing from his berth the traveler cried out : " What are 
 you doing, you rascal, what are you straining that coffee 
 through ? " " Oh, master, master," replied the terrified ser- 
 vant, " it is not master's clean stocking, it is master's dirty 
 stocking. Coolie will not use master's clean stocking for 
 coffee." The master, however, was hardly reassured by this 
 information, and lost his appetite for his usual morning 
 beverage, as can be easily imagined. 
 
 These railway cars, like everything else in India, are built 
 for hot weather which, in the southern part of the continent 
 at least, prevails for eleven months in the year. So every- 
 one prepares for the hot weather, and the people suffer as 
 little, I imagine, from the extreme heat as inhabitants of a 
 northern clime suffer from extreme cold. The pity that is 
 lavished upon dwellers in the tropics on account of the heat 
 they endure and on the inhabitants of Arctic regions on 
 account of the cold they suffer, is largely misplaced, as these 
 inhabitants tl.iemselves Avould assert. 
 
"GIVE THE SUN NO CHANCE." 
 
 107 
 
 i 
 
 As I said, in India even the railway cars are built for hot 
 weather. Tho double roof keeps the sun from beating 
 directly upon the passengers; tlie wide, projcv'^ting blinds 
 ■wprd off his beams frcjm the windows, which are often made 
 of smoked glass, the better to protect the traveler ; the seats 
 are not upholstered in plush and woolen, but in cool leather 
 or still cooler straw, and often at the stations water by the 
 bucketful is thrown over the top of the cars and allowed to 
 trickle down their sides that evaporation may keep the occu- 
 pants cooler. 
 
 This regard for the season, too, regulates the building of 
 the houses, which for the most part are high-posted dwell- 
 ings of one story, with ample verandas, and wide doors 
 which are seldom closed, day or night. A screen with a 
 wide space at the top and bottom of the doors affords 
 ample privacy, and in every way air is encouraged to circu- 
 late above and below, and wherever a breath of wind can bo 
 prevailed upon to blow. 
 
 The airy costumes of the people emphasize the fact that 
 they live in the tropics, while foreigners usually provide 
 themselves with huge pith hats, which, though far from 
 comely, protect the sensitive skull of the European from the 
 burning rays of the sun. 
 
 " Give the sun no chance," is one of the proverbs on 
 every person's tongue. If he once shoots his rays upon you, 
 so that you are even partly stricken by them, it is very diffi- 
 cult ever after to live in India. Even horses in many cities 
 are protected by pith helmets. At the best, these poor 
 creatures do but little work when compared with their 
 Northern brethren. Eight or ten miles a day for a horse, 
 unless he be one of the hardy native ponies, is considered a 
 sufficient daily task for these tropical latitudes. Men and 
 women, too, learn to take life more easily here than in the 
 
298 
 
 ON THE VERGE OF FAMINE. 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 ;■; 
 
 North. Early morning tea, often in bed, a lato breakfast, 
 witii a nap in the middle of the day, and dinner towards 
 sunset, is the usual routine of family life. Work, both in- 
 tellectual and j)hysical, must be done in the cool of the day ; 
 exercise must bo taken when the sun is sinking below tho 
 horizon, or not at all. 
 
 Southern India was much more barren and desert-liko 
 than we had sui)posed. " India's coral strand" had always 
 been pictured to our inuigination as clothed in living green 
 and begirt with waving palm trees. When wc saw it vegeta- 
 ti(m was as withered and much of the land was as i)arched as 
 the desert of Sahara itself, (iaunt, bleak mountains rose in 
 the distance, and as we came nearer we could sec that they 
 were treeless and jiastureless; no gurgling brooks ran down 
 their thirsty sides, no growth of spruce and hendock, pine or 
 lir, whicii make our American hills so beautiful, clothed 
 their ragged spurs, but, arid and bare, they stood out in tho 
 blazing sunlight, the bleached monuments of many cen- 
 turies of drought. 
 
 ^[any diy seasons have succeeded one another in some 
 parts of Southern India, and in not a few places the people, 
 alwavs on the verge of famine, had crossed the terribly nar- 
 row line which separates them fnmi poverty or actual 
 starvation. 
 
 In many places in the lields wo could see men and 
 Avomen digging eagei'ly for dry roots, which in times when 
 the crops fail and dii-e necessity urges, are used for food, but 
 Avliich ar(\ at tiu; best, ver}^ coarse and distasteful fare. In 
 other ])laces wc could see old women ci'ouching ovci- and 
 hobl)ling along tho road, picking up, graiti by grain, a few 
 scattered kernels of rice which had fallen from the scanty 
 sheaves which the men had borne along before them. A 
 missionary friend told me that he had more than once seen 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 JL 
 
ROBBING THE ANTS OP THEIR STORES. 
 
 299 
 
 the people scratching in the ant-hills tor grain hidden by the 
 industrious insects for future use, so reduced and poverty- 
 stricken are the masses of the ])e()()le. 
 
 The government luul started relief-works in some jnirts 
 of Intlia, anticipating a famine, and the missionaries were 
 busy, even in the early spring, in distributing what they 
 could alford, to keep their people from actual starvation. 
 
 
 ^?i*- 
 
 
 NATIVKS <)!'' KOlTIIKHN IM)r.\. 
 
 The price of rice, which in seasons of plenty goes as low as 
 sixteen measures to the rujjee, now has gone uj) to live and six 
 measures to the rupee, and it can be iniiigliicd how little the 
 people whose crops have failed get for the few "])ice" they 
 have at their disposal for their daily rations. Those who 
 live in more favored lands, where famine is unknown and 
 the rains never fail, can scarcely comi)rcliend what it is to 
 see the gaunt form of Famine stalking along the highway. 
 
300 
 
 SEEN FROM THE CAR WINDOW. 
 
 ': i 
 
 : 
 
 s 
 
 Scones from the car window, however, are not altogether 
 sad and glo<jniy. The railway stations are alive with dusky 
 people in many colored garments. Even the dry lields seem 
 to afford some nourishment for the hump-backed cows, and 
 the smooth-haired, rhinoceros-like buffaloes; while great 
 herds of long-legged goats, which ajipear to be walking (»n 
 stilts, show the sky line plainly beneath their bellies, as one 
 looks out upon the fields where they are grazing in every 
 direction. 
 
 The goatherds, as in Scripture times, are watching over 
 their flocks, and sometimes, as they go on before to better 
 pastures, they are followed by long lines of their gaunt 
 flocks marching in single file a quarter of a mile long, over 
 the dry and dusty fields. 
 
 Here and there we pass tanks and reservoirs of water 
 which are not entirely dry. Occasionally we see treadmill 
 bullocks, hitched to long ropes by which water is raised 
 from the depths below and poured into the open ditches, 
 whence it is conveyed to the few rice fields which the inhab- 
 itants are still trying to cultivate. 
 
 As the day goes on the evening coolness steals over us, 
 and with the setting sun the most delightful period of the 
 Indian day approaches. The whole western sky is suffused 
 with brilliant light; a delicate pink above shades off into 
 vivid crimson and purple near the horizon. Not a particle 
 of vapor is in the air, and the clear, transparent sky above, 
 unfiecked with clouds, is made strangely luminous by the 
 brilliancy of the departing "King of Day." Lower and 
 lower sinks the sun, and the glories above the horizon be- 
 come less pronounced but more delicate in their tone, while 
 even now is rising the full, silvery moon. At least, on this 
 journey to Madura she rose as the sun went down and 
 flooded the plains with her mellow light. 
 
A missionary's bungalow. 
 
 301 
 
 And now everything is glorified ; the scjualid hovels of 
 the pariahs are touclietl with silver; the rugged (outlines of 
 the hills are softened and mellowed ; the dry and })ar(;lied 
 rice iields, which Avould bear not even a cii})ful of precious 
 grain for their cultivators, look, under this silvery radiance, 
 like the favored gardens of the gods, and everything is 
 changed from the harsh brilliance of sunlight to the mellow 
 glories of the evening. 
 
 A journey of two hours after sunset brought us to some 
 
 A NATIVE VIIiLAGE OF SOUTHEllN INDIA. 
 
 dear friends in the first missionary bungalow which it was 
 our privilege to visit in India. 
 
 Imagine a long, low building with wide verandas, su])- 
 ported by large pillars. The out-lying buildings are quite 
 impressive, not by reason of their magnificence or architec- 
 tural beauty, but because of their extent, for the sleeping 
 rooms must be large and airy to be in anywise tolerable in 
 the hot season, and the missionary is often expected to enter- 
 tain guests, Avhich compels him to have a house of generous 
 size. The irreverent globe-trotter who goes home to deride 
 
I ' 
 
 302 
 
 THE DISPENSARY AND BOARDING SCHOOL. 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 missionary life, and to tell about the luxury and extrava- 
 gance of missionaries' homes, is fre(juently very glad to take 
 shelter beneath this hospitable roof when he llnds himself in 
 an Indian city with no other place in which to spend the 
 night than the indill'erent traveler's bungalow. 
 
 A little away from the first bungalow, into Avhich we 
 were introduced to missionary life, stands another house, 
 that of the medical missionary. Here, tens of thousands of 
 suffering natives every year obtain medicine or surgical 
 treatment which restores them to health and strength. 
 There is no more powerful auxiliary of missionary effort 
 than the surgeon's knife, and the well-stocked dispensary. 
 On either side of the central bungalow are the teachers' 
 houses, where the unmarried ladies of the mission have their 
 abode, and near by is the dormitory for the girls' boarding 
 school. AVe find no dainty, carpeted, and curtained bou- 
 doirs such as Yassar, Smith, and AVellesley can boast, but a 
 low shed-like building, which affords shelter and the few 
 necessary conveniences to the girls Avho are here obtaining 
 an Education. 
 
 Ko four-posted, spring beds, with hair mattresses, are 
 required for these damsels, for, if we look closely, we shall 
 see the beds for fifty of them rolled up and stuck into a little 
 case like an umbrella rack. Each maiden has one mat for 
 her bed, and all she has to do when bedtime comes is to 
 unroll her mat, spread it on the floor, and go quietly off to 
 the Land of IS^od. "What a saving, this, of chambermaids 
 and household annoyances, to be thus independent of sheets 
 and blankets and spring mattresses ! And here are the girls 
 themselves in their schoolroom, gathered for evening pray- 
 ers, a hundred bright-eyed, earnest, intelligent damsels, 
 many of them exceedingly pretty, and showing in their 
 faces their capacity for intellectual discipline. To be sure, 
 
A SCHOOUHKL S JEWELS. 
 
 303 
 
 tlieir clothes and their ornaments look strange to unaccus- 
 tomed eyes. A long ])iece of bi'illiant cloth affords ample 
 clothing to answer all the demands not only of decency, hut 
 modest V. The ears of manv <^f them are full of jewels from 
 the upper to the lower rim. 
 
 Let us take an inventory of the jewels which bedeck one 
 of these little maidens. 
 
 On her wrists are seven bracelets, on each ankle three 
 more tinkling silver 
 circlets, her nose is 
 ])ierced with rings 
 and is glowing with 
 sjiarkling jewels, 
 which are probably' 
 paste, but in any 
 event are most pre- 
 cious in the eyes of 
 this unsophisticated 
 damsel, while in her jj 
 ears are no less than 
 five rings, some of 
 them of enormousilfiiy* 
 size. Some of these ^^^^^^k 
 girls have their ears 
 not only pierced, but 
 slit oi)en so widely that three or four fingers of one's hand 
 might easily be thrust into them, and heavy peAvter bangles 
 dangle from them, resting oftentimes upon their shoulders. 
 
 The Christian girls, however, eschew these ornaments 
 more and more as they are brought under missionary in- 
 fluence, and not a few of them have had their ears sewed up 
 again, as they have learned to appreciate the barbarity of 
 their ornaments. In another part of the mission compound 
 
 JEWELS OF INDIA. 
 
11^ 
 
 \ 
 
 304 
 
 AN INEXPENSIVE EDUCATION. 
 
 i 
 
 j 
 
 ■i 
 
 is a row of litilo cell-likc! rooms, wlierc the girls retire every 
 inoi'ning and evening I'oi* j)rivate devotions, not being able to 
 have much ])i'ivacy in the common sleeping room. Their 
 bill-o("-l'are is not tht; elaborate duhu of a girls' college at 
 home, of which ihe comi(; paju'rs are so fond of making fun, 
 but is a very simple one, consisting largely of rice and grain 
 and curry. The gii'ls griiu! theii' own grain in pi'imitive 
 stone mills, such as were used in l>ii)lc! times; while the 
 
 curry, which is made 
 
 i;!.!ll!iWMii 
 
 various mgredi- 
 ents, ])eppei's, saffron, 
 cardamon seeds, co- 
 coamit, etc., mixed 
 together, is rolled un- 
 dei' a heav>' stone in 
 ,^ much the same way, 
 i., and thus })rej)are(l for 
 table use. As can l)e 
 imagined, tiicir sim- 
 ])1(! living, ^vhich sat- 
 isfies (^ery want and 
 is all that they are 
 accustomed to, costs 
 exc(!('(lingly little. 
 Tw(!lve dollai's a year will supj)ort on(^ of these dainty 
 maidens, or one of her brothers in the l)oys' school, in 
 another ])a.rt of this same missionary (!om])ound. AVhat do 
 you thiid< of that, () students of YaU^ and Harvard. The 
 twelvci dollars would he considci'ed by most of vou a scanty 
 suj)j)ly for tli(! expenses of one week, to say nothing of the 
 other fifty-one in the yea i*. 
 
 About th(! walls of this mission bungalow lizards arc 
 crawling, defLly catching the flies and mos((uito(»s, proving 
 
 
 OHINDINd CnUIY. 
 
 1 14 , 
 
 ii 
 
BISHOI', PASTOR, TEACHER, i'HYSICIAN. 
 
 305 
 
 tlieinsolvos very good insect extcrniinjitors. On this account 
 they are often wolconied by the inliabitants, and live; for 
 months and years in the same room without being disturbed. 
 Crows, with shite-colored necks, go hopping al)out every- 
 where, so tame and auchicious that they will ily into the very 
 dining-room and ])ick the food oil of the tables. In the open 
 com])o nul the white bullocks, which are used to draw the 
 missioi.aiies' bandies, are grazing, and before the door 
 beautiful flowers and groups of bright-leaved plants are 
 growing. 
 
 Altogether it is a very comfortable and pretty ])icturo 
 which the missionary bungalow ])i'esentsto the visitor's eyes. 
 If he stays long enough to g(!t into the missionary spirit he 
 Avill see the vast amount of hard, self-sacrificing work which 
 is accom[)lisheil every day, — a work which, though its results 
 seem small and meagre at times, is laying the foundation for 
 a great Christian empire in India, — a work which will bear 
 fruit a hundredfold in this worhl and a thousand times a 
 huudi'edfold in the world to come. 
 
 To attempt to relate the manifold work of the mission- 
 ary's nu)st interesting and varied labors would be impossible 
 in this connection, lie is not the ))astor of a, single Hock, as 
 is the minist(>r at honu% but rather the bishop of a district 
 containing hunch-eds of thousands, ov perhaps millions of 
 souls. Under him are catechists, ])astors, Hible wouumi, and 
 hel|)ers of both sexes; schools for boys and schools for girls; 
 relief woi'k for those who are in dire poverty, and hosj)itals 
 where thousands of out-patients and huiulreds of in-patients 
 are treated every year. 
 
 P>ut it must not be thought by any of my readers that 
 the missionary is so wholly given over to the affairs of the 
 other world, that ho has no regard for the good things of 
 this life. He is not by any means an ascetic if he is a true 
 
30(5 
 
 PESTS OF THE JUNGLE. 
 
 I 
 
 !; \ 
 
 i'l 
 
 missionary of Christ, for his Master set him no such ex- 
 am])le. His mission in part is to live among the people as a 
 man among men ; to show them by example what a Chris- 
 tian home may be, and to elevate them to his own standartl 
 as far as he may be able. 
 
 There is much hearty good cheer and fellowship in these 
 stations, especially when missionaries come together for the 
 annual meeting, from their different fields of labor. It was 
 our privilege to be present at some of these annual meetings 
 of dilferent missions in India, and to know something of the 
 good cheer as well as of the hard work of missionary life. 
 
 A missionary picnic in the jungles of Southern India will 
 long live in our memories as a |)leasant picture. The jungle 
 is not always an impenetrable tangle of tropical shrubs and 
 climbing creepers, as perhaps many of my readers imagine, 
 but is a common name often given to the forest land of India, 
 and is sometimes a delightful place for a holiday excursion, 
 as in this case. Though, to be sure, one must keep a bright 
 eye out for cobras and other venomous snakes, and he need 
 not travel far from any city of Southern India to find the 
 dreaded cheetah or panther of the jungle. 
 
 This particular picnic Avhich I have in mind was in the 
 "Nine Lac Garden," as it is called. A "lac" is a hundred 
 thousand, and the "Nine Lac Garden" was the garden 
 of nine hundred thousand trees, planted by the prince of 
 Arcot many years ago. The reckless prince squandered his 
 patrimony, and lost the Nine Lac Garden with the rest 
 of his property, and now all his nine hundred thousand 
 cocoanut trees and palmyra palms, mangoes, tamarinds, and 
 guavas, have passed into the hands of aliens. It still affords, 
 however, as delightful a ])lace as ever for a summer holiday. 
 
 Here, under the spreading banyan trees, were laid the 
 snowy white tablecloths, while the bachelor missionaries, by 
 
PICNICKING IN INDIA. 
 
 307 
 
 ■whom the picnic was given, exercised their skill in providing 
 many toothsome dishes; ending the entertainment with a 
 grand sui'prise, which was no other than some bricks of ice 
 cream from Madras. To be eating various kinds of ice 
 cream on a hot February day in the jungle of Southern 
 India, did not at all correspond with our })reconceived ideas 
 of life in the forests of India, but railways and express 
 messengers and telegraphic communication have made it 
 possible to have all the necessities and many of the luxuries 
 of civilized life in regions where a few years ago they were 
 unheard of. After an hour or two of hearty good cheer, Ave 
 took our places in our gharris once more, and were driven 
 back to one of the serious duties of missionary life — a meet- 
 ing for the educated Hindus, in a village near by. Thus 
 the day was ended as it had begun, and was continued in 
 earnest effort for the people round about, as every day is 
 spent by our missionary friends. The picnic Avas an episode 
 and breathing spell, as necessary and deserved as a parson's 
 holiday at home, or a student's outing after a long term of 
 study. 
 
 Thus we rode back to meetings and services with which 
 all our days in India wore iilled; some in open carriages, 
 some in bullock bandies, antl some of the missionaries on 
 their favorite steed, the bicycle. 
 
 Many amusing stories are told of the effect upon cred- 
 ulous natives of the lirst appearance of a missionary upon 
 his wheel. 
 
 As one of the missionaries Avas riding along at night 
 on his high Avheol, ho mot a Hindu, who, in the gloom 
 of the evening, could see only his high-perched form sup- 
 ported, apparently, by nothing, moving at a tremendous 
 pace over the macadamized road. As the missionary ap- 
 proached he rang his bell that the Hindu might get out of 
 
308 
 
 AN AMUSING STORY. 
 
 1 1 
 
 I 
 
 III :< 
 
 
 the way. This completely paralyzed the poor fellow, and 
 falling upon his knees he cried out : " Oh ! good devil, good 
 devil, tell me your name, tell me your name, good devil. 
 Oh ! Oh ! ! Oh ! ! ! I never did you any harm, good devil. 
 Go away, go away ! Oh ! Oh ! ! Oh ! ! ! " Then he began to 
 scream and run, and just kept ahead of the wheel in what 
 seemed to him its demoniacal course. Seeing that he could 
 not gain on the "good devil," and hearing the terrible bell 
 sounding in his ears and proclaiming his destruction, as it 
 doubtless did to his excited imagination, he broke inconti- 
 nently across the fields and ran with all his might to the 
 nearest village, to tell how he had been chased by an evil 
 spirit, who was sounding the very tomtom of Hades in his 
 ears. No wonder that such a sight thus affected his un- 
 tutored imagination. 
 
 The morning of the day on which we enjoyed this unique 
 picnic in the Indian jungle had been spent in visiting mission- 
 ary schools, dispensaries, hospitals, and evangelistic work. 
 And the evening concluded, as I have said, with a meeting 
 of educated Hindus. 
 
 This movement among the educated classes of India is 
 most interesting and hopeful. Though few of the higher 
 castes are as yet directly connected with the Christian 
 church, the leaven of the Gospel is evidently working among 
 them. For the most part they are very friendly to the mis- 
 sionaries, and open to their influence in social and educa- 
 tional matters, while in -efforts for the temperance cause, the 
 Brahmins, Avho by religion and heritage are strict teetotalers, 
 work together with the missionaries for the uplifting of their 
 fellow men. 
 
 In some places the missionaries have established lyceums 
 and debating societies, and in connection with these, high 
 caste people are brought, to some extent at least, under 
 
 M 
 
A DARING BRAHMIN. 
 
 309 
 
 Is 
 111 
 
 the influence of the Gospel of Christ. As yet the great 
 masses of Hindus are bound hand and foot by the fetters 
 of their caste system, which is more inexorable than any 
 other social system that ever existed, probably, in the 
 history of tlie world. But it is interesting to notice that 
 these shackles are giving way. 
 
 In one of the villages of Southern India, a Brahmin, who 
 had become convinced of the degrading and benumbing 
 mfluences of his people's prejudices, recently advertised pub- 
 licly in the papers, that he would accejit the invitation of 
 any cleanly vegetarian of a lower caste Avho should invite 
 him to dine with him. This was a challenge thrown in the 
 very teeth of public opinion, Not long after it Avas accepted, 
 and a loAV-class Hindu gave an invitation to the Brah- 
 min to dine with him at his house in Madras. True to his 
 word the Brahmin accepted the invitation, and on his next 
 visit to Madras, where his profession as a lawyer frequently 
 called him, he dined Avith this man of lower caste, not 
 secretly, but in the most public Avay, giving notice in the 
 papers that he aa'ouUI do so, and inviting other Brahmins to 
 see that he dared to resist the crushing force of public 
 opinion. 
 
 Of course, he Avas reatl out of their synagogues, his Avife 
 and all his family connections left him, as he kncAv they 
 Avould; eA^en his cook refused longer to prepare his food. 
 For tAvo Aveeks he Avas actually obliged to live on milk and 
 plantains, Avhicli require no cooking. 
 
 But his courageous example is infectious, and two other 
 brave Brahmins in his native city haA^e giA'en notice that they 
 are Avilling to dine Avith him Avhenever he returns to his 
 home, though they know it means to them loss of caste, 
 social ostracism, and public disgrace in the eyes of all their 
 old companions. It moans that their Avives Avill leaA^e them, 
 
310 
 
 THE BATTLE AGAINST CASTE UEUUN. 
 
 I 
 
 
 ■ I 
 
 
 their cooks will desert them, and they will be pnicticully 
 outcast wanderers on the face of the earth. Xevertiieless, 
 there are some of lln'se men who are willin/j^ to endiwe 
 this ol)lo(|uy for the saki; of fi-eeing their nation from the 
 giUlin<^- chains which enslave her. 
 
 In on(^ of th(;s(i ])ublic meetings for educated Hindus of 
 which I have spoken, I have heai'd a JJj'ahmin denounce the 
 caste system with all the lire and fervency and elevation of 
 sentiment that a devout (Jhristian missionary could use. 
 
 The sanu! man, Nayna Sasti'i, a lawyer of Cud(lii])a, who 
 risked his all in dining with a lower caste family, lias since 
 issued several Social lleform pamphlets, which are well 
 worth ])erusal by Englishmen and Hindus alike, for the 
 sake of the high moral sentiments which they inculcate. 
 
 All honoi' to such brave men wherever we find them. 
 The nuirtyr spii'it is not yet dead in the world. There are 
 some anumg the Brahmins who will not bow the knee to 
 the Baal of caste. Thaidv (iod for the courageous and heroic 
 spirits of India. May their number nmltii)ly. 
 
CIIAITEU XVII. 
 
 FAMorS CITIKS OF SOUTIIKHN INDIA. 
 
 A Fiisciiiiitiiif,' liiiiid — (Joi-frcou.H llcathciiisin — Tatt(»i> Marks and Sacred 
 AsIkss— A Man of llic Thief Caste — A Robber Villa;,^e —Calling tliu 
 |{oll of Thiuvos — The Thief Mithileinun — The Women at the Well — 
 'I'lie (Jreasy Faiiir — I'ayin^'' Him for Driftiiiff lo liceward — Hlood- 
 eiinilin;^ Annonnceinents — A nia;:;nitieenl Teni|ile — 'I'wenly live Mill- 
 ions of Dollars — Dusty (Jods and Goddesses —The Holy of IIoIi(!s — A 
 Stone Hull in a Stone Math Tub — The (}od's Hath — A IJeautifid Pal- 
 ace —The Temple of Tanjore — Filthy Water as a I'urilier of Sins — 
 The Last Hajah and His Wives — A Weddin,'.-; Procession — The Kick- 
 inf,r Capacities of an Old Smooth IJon — Vellore and its Temple — Sus- 
 pense and Terror — A Mrave l{escue— The (Jallant Horses —Tipi)00 
 Sahib's Relatives — The Madras Hunt — The Punkah WaHah. 
 
 I VEX tlio most vi<^orous traveler 
 would Mud it ditllcidt to exi)loro 
 every iiit(n'estin<^ city of this iiiar- 
 vohmsly fiisciiKitin<r Ijuidof India. 
 I must l)(,i content to tala; my 
 I'cadei's to a few of the jjlaces 
 which li;iv(; most intei'estcd me. 
 Not always ai'e tiiey i\w "sh(jw 
 phices " of India, or tiiose over 
 wiiich th(! travehM' always o'oos 
 into raptures ; these |)iac('s yon 
 will lind described in scores of 
 books of trav<'l, iiiid I may well leave them to those who are 
 most im|)ressed hy their wonders and beauties, while I de- 
 scribe those which have most strono-ly appealed to me. 
 
 The city of Madura, to my mind, is one of the most inter- 
 
 (311) 
 
11 I 
 
 312 
 
 THE SIGN UPON THE FOREHEAD. 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 I! f 
 
 11 111 
 
 
 . < ■ 
 
 i :i! 
 
 esting cities in all India. Hero we find the people in all tlio 
 gor<;'eousness of their native costumes, sj)lendi(lly bejeweled, 
 and bedecked, and becrinisoned with the gay cloths wliich 
 thev wear in most pictures(jue fashion. Here, too, the deg- 
 radation of heathen worship is seen as perhaps nowhere else 
 in India. 
 
 In tiie North, Brahminism seems to be a more refined 
 and occult religion than in the South. In the South the 
 religious doctrines appeal to the senses, and the magnificent 
 temples and innumerable gods which are everywhere wor- 
 shiped, tell of centuries of idolatry and superstition. 
 
 As one walks along the street, he is struck not only by 
 the costumes, but bv the tattoo marks and bv the si<>ns on 
 the foreheads of the people whom he meets, which tell of 
 the god they worship and of the caste to which they belong. 
 Each morning they smear their foreheads with sacred ashes 
 in red or white or blue, and sometimes Avitli a combination 
 of all the colors. Many wear a single spot just above the 
 bridge of the nose. Others bedeck themselves with three 
 lines running from their eyebrows to their hair, while the 
 foreheads of others are decorated transversely from temple 
 to temple with the sacred ashes mingled with oil. One who 
 has lived long in the country and has become expert in the 
 signs on the forehead, can tell at a glance to what great 
 caste each man belongs, though it is impossiljlo to distinguish 
 the minor castes, as they are almost numberless. 
 
 As I was sitting in a mission bungalow one day, a bright, 
 intelligent Hindu entered the door, and spoke to the mis- 
 sionary in charge in regard to some church work which had 
 been committed to him. As he went out, my friend said to 
 me, " That man belongs to the thief caste." I was quite sur- 
 prised at this piece of infoi'ination, for the man a])])eared to 
 me to be a very respectable citizen, and he was clad in 
 
A CONVERTED THIEF. 
 
 313 
 
 snow-white cloth and spotless turban. Instead of playing 
 the thief on this occasion he made nie a most respectful 
 *' salaam," as he came into the room, laying the flat of his 
 hand against his forehead, and then very courteously stated 
 his business, not attempting to deprive me or my friend of 
 any of our possessions. 
 
 Before he departed he i)laced a little lime, the symbol of 
 friendship and good will, in the palm of my hand and then re- 
 spectfully retired. " That man belongs to the robber caste," 
 said my friend. " What do you mean by that ? " I asked. 
 " Just what I say," he replied. " He is a Christian man 
 now, and since his conversion he has had nothing of the thief 
 in his nature, having ])ut aside the ' works of darkness.' 
 But it is none the less true that he belongs to the thief caste 
 and lives in the village where all the iniiabitants belong to 
 the same caste. Some years since we established a mission 
 for them m that village, a number have left their thieving 
 practices, but the great majority of the inhabitants still con- 
 tinue in their former evil ways. The reputation of this vil- 
 lage is so bad, that every night at midniglit the police call 
 the roll of ever\' adult male citizen, and every man of them 
 must answer to his name at the roll call, and show that he 
 is in his own proper habitation at the hour of midnight. 
 But they are wily fellows," continued my friend, " and as 
 soon as the police insj)ection is over and they have answered 
 to their names, they are off on their marauding expeditions 
 •once more." 
 
 " Nearly ever}'- native house in IVfadura pays tribute to 
 this caste," he went on to say. " They go around at stated 
 intervals, demanding a rupee or some small piece of money. 
 If the tax is not paid by the houselu^ld on Avhom the demand 
 is made, soon it is found that a cow is missing, or a bullock 
 is hamstrung, or that in some way their property has suf- 
 
I 
 
 314 
 
 PAYIN<J TKIIUTK TO K(HU$KRS. 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 foivd (lainii;^f(\" " I'lit why <lo tlicy iu»t ;i|>|)l.v to tli(^ police if" 
 J aslv«'(l. " Oh I " suid my IVicrid, " the polin; Jii'i; ortcntiines 
 corrupt and in h'a<:;iic witli the rohhcrs thciiisclvcs, and it is 
 Tnoi'i! ti'ouhhi and annoyanci! to .seek the aid of the police, or 
 to go to law ahoiit thcii* loss, than it is to pay the small trib- 
 ute demandi'd hv the thieves. When anvthin<'' is niissinif, 
 the natives ^o to the middlemen who ahound in these vil- 
 lages of the thiel" caste, and for one-third of the actual ))ric(; of 
 the missing article they buy it hack. For instance, if a cow 
 valued at thirty rupees ib stolen, the owner knows that ten 
 rupees I'ansom nu)iu'y paid to th(! middleman will secure 
 the cow. To api)ly to the ])olice and go through the tedious 
 operations of law in getting back their property, Wi^uld cost 
 so much moi'e, that the middleinan\s services are usually 
 employed, demoralizing as the efl'ect irmst be u])on the peo- 
 ple who are subject to such extortions." 
 
 One of the characteristic sights of Madura, as of all other 
 cities of Southern India, is that of tlu; wonu^n at the well 
 with bright brass water jars, which they ai'e idling at the 
 ])ui)lic fountain, aiul wliich they then carry home on their 
 heads oi' in a bask(!t of braid(Ml rope. 
 
 How often this scene has reminded us of oui* ^Master's 
 conv(irsation with the woman of Samaria as lie uiet her 
 drawing water for her family needs, in just the same way so 
 many hundi'eds of years ago. 
 
 Another common sight is that of the religious mendicants 
 or fakirs, who adopt every conceivable method of attracting 
 attention. 
 
 llei'(! is one with long hair, whose greasy, dii'ty I'inglets 
 reach to his very toes. Another with lilthy, matted hair 
 thrusts himself ujjon you ho])ing that his v<My olfensiveness 
 will lead you to buy him otf and pay him for getting well to 
 the leeward. 
 
 Wu, 
 

; 
 
 '( 
 
 li 
 
 I 
 
 li ^■•' ' 
 
 3 . a 
 
 = a 
 
 
 1 HI 
 
 S " V 
 
 ill 
 
 — ■- .= o 
 
 - .5 = a 
 
 Mil 
 
 •- ^ ^ a 
 
 ''■ i § ^ „ 
 
 
 C ~ ~ ^' 3 
 
 >r i 3 -r p 
 
 < r. 3 .- "^ 
 
 7 T i> O 
 
 < .i i ■= !? 
 
 t^. •/.•:: — 
 
 ^ ^ a. 
 
 I' 
 
 r>"?i 
 
 ^^^1^ 
 
SNAKE CHARMERS OF INDIA. 
 
 317 
 
 ? •;■ a 
 
 - = o. 
 
 V = O 
 
 ,^ 
 
 C i C C 
 
 liri.£ 
 
 1 3 s ^ .Si 
 
 — >, a 
 
 Z i^-= 
 
 Hero is another with a tomtom and a curious one- 
 strinmnl l'nU\k\ nuilvin<'' wliat ho calls music, but what anv 
 other pei'son would call the essence of hideous noise. Hero 
 is a snake charmer with a basket of wri<^'^ling, writhin^^ red- 
 ton<,nied reptiles (m his head, lie will sometimes open this 
 in close proximity to your very eyes, and you involuntarily 
 start back amazed and disgusted at the contents of his 
 basket. 
 
 "If this snake should bite you." said one of these <,^entry, 
 at the same time opening one of the baskets, "you will die 
 in fifteen minutes. If this one should bite you," opening 
 another basket, "you will die in ten minutes." ()[)ening 
 still another basket, he remarked coolly, "If he should bite 
 you, you Avill die in live minutes," and still another basket 
 was opened with the blood-curdling announcement, "If this 
 one should bite you, you will die in one minute." Bv this 
 time my friend I'.xd gotten almost out of sight and hearing, 
 for he did not care to try an\' exi)eriments in the interests of 
 science. 
 
 The temple of Madura is probably the most magnificent 
 in Southern India, as it is certainly the largest which can be 
 found in any part of this land of temples. It is impossible 
 to describe the thousands and thousands of sculptured ]nllars, 
 the beautiful tessellated pavements, the painted ceilings, and 
 the rich ornamental stone-work which abounds everywhere. 
 Tlie mind is confused by the very richness and gorgeousness of 
 the effect, while at the same time one is tem})ted to laugh at 
 the grotesqueness and weep over the indecency of many of 
 the figures. 
 
 The great towers or gopurams of this temple are covered 
 with most elaborate figures in stone. This mighty monu- 
 ment of heathenism is said to have cost live millions of 
 pounds sterling, or twenty-live millions of dollars. The outer 
 
1 1' 
 
 318 
 
 GRIMY GODS AND THEIR GRIMY WORSHIPERS. 
 
 ! { 
 
 court of the temple is occupied by lliose who buy and sell 
 and get gain, as the Jews of old plied their business in the 
 
 tenij)le courts of Je- 
 rusalem. But there 
 is no occasion for a 
 divine reformer with 
 a scourge of small 
 cords to drive out 
 these traffickers, for 
 the Av o r s h i p that 
 goes on within the 
 Holy of Holies is 
 more degrading than 
 the business of the 
 outer corridors. It 
 contains no spiritual 
 element. Various 
 gods and goddesses 
 are seen in dusty lit- 
 tle niches, dripping 
 with oil and grease, 
 and llltby with the 
 dust of tigcs, while 
 before tlicm is some 
 tinn^s prostrated a de- 
 vout worslii})er al- 
 3'/, most as flltliv and as 
 greasy as the gods 
 themselves. 
 
 But for tbe most 
 part I saw little re- 
 spect paid to the temple or the gods of the tern])le by the 
 people who Avere roaming through its aisles. If they re- 
 
 THE GREAT TEMPI > OK SIADUUA. 
 
A CHARACTERISTIC DIVINITY. 
 
 310 
 
 garded the place as sacred, they kept their opinions very- 
 much to themselves, for it seemed to have little more sanc- 
 tity for those whose religion was here embodied, than it 
 had for us of Western education who regarded it as repre- 
 senting gross superstitions and abominable idolatry. 
 
 In the very Holy of Holies, where the chiaf god has his 
 habitation, no stranger is allowed to go, but as we wandered 
 
 THE PAINTED COKUIDOU IN THE TKMPI.E OK MADITRA. 
 
 about the temple the High Priest, Avith a numerous retinue 
 before and b oliind, passed on into this holy place. 
 
 In the center of the temple is a stone bull, which is the 
 characteristic divinity of Southern India. Tiiis particular 
 bull sits in a stone bath tub, which was built around him at 
 the time of the last great famine in 1877, in the hope, I 
 suppose, that if he sat in the water himself he Avould cause 
 the rains to descend upon the parched fields over which he 
 presided as the tutelary divinity. His tub has remained 
 
320 
 
 AN IDOL S YEARLY OUTING. 
 
 N; 
 
 there ever since, tliougii when I sa\v it it was very dry and 
 dusty. 
 
 In another part of Madura is a vast sacred tank, Avhich 
 hokls a hirge amount of Avater, In the middle of this 
 artificial lake is a beautiful little island containing a most 
 elaborate and costly temple. To this temple, once a year, 
 over the green and slimy Avaters of the tank, the chief god 
 of the Madura temple is carried in great state on a raft. 
 This great event causes a vast commotion among the people, 
 Avho flock to see the god take his yearly airing, his ride on 
 a raft to the temple and, if I mistake not, his bath in the 
 
 THE SACKED TANK OP MADUUA. 
 
 fi! 
 
 
 sacred tank. Certainly all the gods that I saw in the 
 Madura temple looked as if they were sadly in need of at 
 least an annual bath. 
 
 The palace of Madura is another building remarkable 
 for its architectural grandeur and imposing effect. It rivals, 
 in my opinion, the Vatican of Rome. In fact, I have rarely 
 seen in any land a building which so impressed me with its 
 lofty arches and its noble Byzantine columns. 
 
 It is supposed that a Mahommedan architect must have 
 designed this building for the immensely wealthy rajah 
 who erected the temple antl the palace. Now, however, 
 even the memory of the architect, who, in his way, must 
 have been a prince of the guild, has passed away. The 
 
THE TEMPLE AT TANJORE. 
 
 331 
 
 palace is no longer in the hands of the family that built it, 
 but is occupied by the British government for its court 
 rooms and offices, and for this purpose it atfords a most 
 admirable building. The old harem of the king is now one 
 of the high courts of the Madura district, a far worthier use 
 
 INTEUIOK OF THR GUKAT PAI,ArF. OK MADURA. 
 
 to put the apartment to than that for which it was origin- 
 ally designed. 
 
 Another interesting city of Southern India is Tanjore. 
 Here, too, the temple is tlie great attraction of the place, 
 though not so vast and elaborate as the temple of jVIadura. 
 It stands by itself and impresses the observer by its solitary 
 magnificence more than the swarming towers and endless 
 

 32-Z 
 
 A STATELY TOWER. 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
 jjillars and corridors of tho Madura toinplo. The central 
 tower of this temple is 2H0 feet high, and covers tlie holy 
 of holies in which is the chief idol. This central tower is, to 
 my mind, the most magnificent piece of architecture which 
 I have seen in Southern India. Next to the Taj JVIahal, per- 
 haps, it Avill take the palm from all other architectui'al 
 wonders of the em})ire. So symmetrical is it, that its 
 shadow at noon does not projc^ct beyond its base, and the 
 tradition is, as our guide told us in his broken Englisii, that 
 "it never cast a sluuhnv," but this perpetual miracle is not 
 borne out by the facts of the case. 
 
 At tlie to]> of the tower is a huge dome, a solid granite 
 block. How it could ever be placed in such a position is 
 beyond my concc])tion. Tradition says that an inclined 
 plane five miles in length was built, up Avhich the stone 
 was rolled by forced labor. Everything about this gopuram 
 from base to pinnacle is of granite, sculptured in the most 
 elaborate way, Avith figures of men, animals, gods, and 
 demons. One of these figures is sometimes called ",Tohn 
 Bright." It represents a man of European tyj)e of counte- 
 nance, with an unmistakable English hat on his head. The 
 tradition for many years before the British occupancy was. 
 that men with such features and such "tiles" on their heads- 
 would sometime concpier and bear sway over India. 
 
 Some have supposed that this figure represents the 
 famous traveler, Marco Polo. We found Marco Polo among- 
 the live hundred lUiddhists' effigies in the great tem])le of 
 C/anton. Here we lind his possible effigy in Scjuthern India. 
 These traditions show at least how this enterprising traveler 
 affected the imjigination of many nations. 
 
 Of course we saw here the famous Nandi, the sacred 
 bull of Siva, in this temple as in others. This bull is the 
 biggest and most remarkable of all his stony companions. 
 
NANDI, THP] SACRED BULL. 
 
 ;}-^3 
 
 He is sixteen feet l()ii<j;' and twelve leet lii^li, and is senlpt- 
 ured iVoni a singie l)l()ck of syenite. He is daily anointed 
 with oil, and, as the dust aceunudates u[)on his i)aek, he 
 is anytinng' but a pleasant and wholesome object to look 
 upon. The hut>(' stone from which he is carved wei<^'hs hun- 
 dreds of tons av.d ,nuist liave been brought at least four 
 hundred miles, I'or there is no stone of this description 
 within this distance from Tanjore. 
 
 A sculptured water-spout in aiujther part (jf the temjjle, 
 
 "m-i 
 
 >oniiiiiuiiiii||iii<iiiVMLlilMU'(iimiM)t|Bi<t'r<M\iii)imiiiwuiiiiwniii,iu 
 
 TlllO SACUKU liVl.L OK SIVA. 
 
 brings the greasy water which is ])onred over the })rincipal 
 idol which has his habitation in the most hidden recesses of 
 the tem])le visited only by the high ])riests, out to the light 
 of day, and this water is eagerly caught and drank by hun- 
 dreds of devout worshij)ers. Loathsome anil impure as it 
 looks, this Avater is supposed to purify them from all their 
 sins. One would rather suppose that it would breed all 
 sorts of noxious disease. 
 
 There are other intei'esting sights in Tanjore besides the 
 temple. The palace of the foi'mer king of Tanjore is well 
 -worth visiting. Kather a dilapidated athur it is at j)resent, 
 
324 
 
 A DILAPIDATED PALACE AND USELESS GUN. 
 
 IS ll'i 
 
 I' 
 
 ' f 
 
 I 
 
 
 and even in its best estate it must have been somewhat 
 tawdry in its decorations, but it is vast in its circumference 
 and substantial in its architecture, and not unimposing. 
 Here, to tliis day (though the hist rajah died tliii'ty-seven 
 years ago), still live some of his many wives and concubines. 
 The wives still have a'monthlv allowance of ei":lit hundred 
 rupees from the old estate, and the concubines a grant of 
 two hundred rupees a month. 
 
 AVe saw the place where the women were confined, 
 though we did not see the aged matrons themselves. One 
 of them, formerly the chief wife, is now about sixty years of 
 age, and the younger ones, who as mere children were 
 betrothed to the rajah, may still have many years to live, 
 though their husband has been dead for nearly two scores 
 of summers. The father of the last rajah was a noted man 
 in Tanjore; a man of great strength of character and 
 ability, which Avas not inherited by his son. This old rajah 
 was a friend of the celebrated English missionary, Schvv'artz, 
 who is buried in an old church near by, and Avho, more than 
 almost any other man of his time, furthered the establish- 
 ment of the English government and of English civilization 
 in the land to which he had devoted his life. 
 
 Our vivacious guide, anxious to please and to earn his 
 salary of a rupee for his day's work, then took us to the big 
 gun of Tanjore. It is a monster, indeed, but about as useless 
 as any Quaker gun that Avas ever bored out of a big cotton- 
 wood. This cannon is more than twenty-four feet long, 
 made with huge rings of iron welded together with brass. 
 Its circumference is more than ten feet and its bore two feet 
 two inches. In all its history it was never fired but once, 
 and then so frightened Avere the gunners and so convinced 
 were they of the kicking capacities of their old smooth-bore, 
 that they laid a train of poAvder tAVO miles long, which took 
 
 liki lik 
 
THE SCENE OF A FAMOUS MUTINY. 
 
 325 
 
 forty minutes to burn to the gun. That was the first and 
 last time that the ancient cannon Avas used. Since then it 
 has been worshiped as a god in times of peril. It now 
 brings to the guides and its keeper some small revenue as an 
 object which every traveler must see, and is probably quite 
 as useful as ever it was in its peaceful and uneventful life. 
 
 Another interesting town of Southern India is Yellore. 
 It is probably little visited by the average traveler, but as a 
 city of missionary work it is of decided interest, and also for 
 its historic associations, which are Avell worth recording. 
 Here, also, is found a famous old temple, now entirely 
 deserted save by owls and bats, its silence never broken by 
 the footfall of a single Avorshijier. But most interesting to 
 me was the old fort of Yellore, which was the scene, many 
 years ago, of one of the mutinous uprisings of Southern 
 India. The English officers and their Avives who were sta- 
 tioned here were surprised and overpowered, and confined in 
 tlie narrow room over the gatcAvay of the fort. Here they 
 Avaited their expected doom in fear and tremblir-'- Their 
 captors, however, before putting them to death could not re- 
 strain their desire to sack the fort and make Avay Avith the 
 gastronomic dainties Avhich they found therein. While they 
 Avere rioting amid the unaccustomed luxuries of the officers' 
 quarters, one of the beleaguered prisoners Avas let doAvn OA'er 
 the Avail, and, making his way stealthily from the fortress, 
 ran Avitli all his miglit to the nearest garrison, which Avas 
 stationed at Eanipet, some fourteen miles aAvay. It Avas a 
 long, hard road, but the man was running for his life and for 
 the liA^es of all his companions, and, breathless and excited, 
 he at last reached the garrison at Eanipet. In a few seconds 
 the troops Avere all in their saddles, galloping as fast as their 
 steeds could carry them to the rescue of their companions. 
 Vellore was fourteen miles aAvay ; the road Avas by no means 
 
32G 
 
 THE WELCOME SOUND OF TRAMPLING HOOFS. 
 
 I 'I 
 
 ii 
 
 an easy one ; the bed of a sandy river a mile and a Iiall' in 
 ■width must be crossed; the sand was ankle deep, and was 
 very dilficult for the horses. JUit the good steeds and their 
 ridei's ])ressed on, for they knew that a minute of delay 
 might mean death to all their friends at Vellore. The be- 
 leaguered })risoners in the room oyer the gateway counted 
 the slow minutes as tlie}"^ dragged on. The}' knew that soon 
 the rioters would be satiated with their ])1 under, and Avould 
 return to massacre them in their cell-like prison. They 
 could not count upon many minutes of resj)ite. They heard 
 their keepers discussing how they should be put to death. 
 They knew they were about to fall upon them and cut them 
 to pieces without mercy, when, in the far distance, they 
 thought they heard the hoofs of advancing horses. Xearer 
 and nearer came the rescuing troops. The sound of tramping 
 feet was never more grateful to strained and wearied ears. 
 At last the horsemen Avere seen galloping along the road which 
 led to the castle gate. They i)ressed into the courtyard and 
 cut to pieces the mutineers Avho were about to crimson their 
 blades Avith the blood of their officers. Scarcely a man 
 among the mutineers Avas left to tell the tale, but the officers 
 and their Avives in the room over the gatcAvay Avere saA'^ed ; and, 
 as they looked at their Avatches to see hoAV long the rescuing 
 troops had been in coming to their relief, it Avas found that it 
 Avas just fifty minutes from the time that they vaulted into 
 the saddle at Eanipet to the moment that they Avere at the 
 gates of the castle of Yellore. They had ridden fourteen 
 miles, a Avide river bed had been crossed, their companions 
 rescued, and their enemies ])ut to flight all Avithin an hour. 
 Xo Avonder that a full share of praise Avas bestoAved upon the 
 gallant horses, panting and reeking Avith their hard gallop 
 across the hot plains under the broiling sun of India. 
 
 As I look upon this fortress, Avhich noAv is quite deserted 
 
THE CRUMBLING FORT OF ARCOT. 
 
 337 
 
 of all its tr<)oj)s, and saw the wido moat around it, which 
 formerly was filled Avith hungry alligators who snapped up 
 any besieger who attempted thus to get within tlie castle 
 gateway, the whole scene seemed to pass before me, and I 
 could almost see the strained and. eager faces of the beleag- 
 uered families lookin/.^- through the barred gateway. I 
 could almost hear the wild tramp of the rescuing troops. 
 
 To this day, the relatives of Tippoo Sahib, the famous 
 mutineer, though he was not implicated in the outrage I 
 have described, are confined in the jail within the confines 
 of this old castle. 
 
 Another most interesting town of this region is the 
 famous old capital of Arcot. Now it is a decadent city and 
 the fort itself, so bravely captured and held by Clive, is 
 quite deserted and is crumbling to ruins. The massive 
 masonry of the old fort, which looks as though it was built 
 for all the centuries, is gnawed in many places by the re- 
 morseless tooth of time. But it still shows in its massive 
 ruo'o-edness what it must have been in the middle of the 
 eighteentli century, when it was taken by the brave young 
 clerk from IMadras, Avho afterwards became Lord Clive, the 
 man who establislied British supremacy throughout India. 
 
 Clive seems to have had the faculty possessed by Napo- 
 leon and Alexander, of inspiring unbounded confidence in 
 those under his command. Even the native troops acknowl- 
 edged this mighty supremacy, and were ready to lay down 
 their lives to obey his slightest behest. When besieged and 
 sorely pressed by the French, and when famine stared them 
 in the face, the natives came to him, inspired Avith his own 
 valor, and said, "Do not surrender; we will live on the very 
 water in which the rice is cooked, while the English soldiers 
 eat the rice, if you will but hold the fort against our com- 
 mon enemy." 
 
328 
 
 ON A SURF-BEATEN SHORE. 
 
 h Hi 
 
 >: 1: 
 
 i! 
 
 Si' 
 
 SI ': 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 Such valor and leadership would ])revail anywiiere. No 
 wonder that by such men as Clive and Warren Hastings, 
 and the great men who have succeeded tiiem, the English 
 government is established so strongly throughout this mighty 
 empii-e. The paramount importance of individual leadershi)) 
 was never more distinctly shown than in the history of the 
 British occupancy of India. That one great leader is worth 
 
 •::r^-,.. I, 
 
 m!:!^;$':' 
 
 WEA\"ER8 IN THE BTUEET8 OF MADKAS. 
 
 a hundred thousand men, is a lesson that may be read upon 
 every page of India's history. 
 
 The place from which most travelers in Southern India 
 embark for the North is the city of Madras ; a great metrop- 
 olis with nearly a million of inhabitants, situated on the 
 wind-swept and w^ave-beaten Coromandel coast. Until re- 
 cently there has not been even a breakwater to partially 
 defend the surf-washed shore. With the greatest difficulty 
 
 y I 
 
A DIFFICULT LANDING PLACE. 
 
 339 
 
 at times vessels are loaded and unloaded even with the 
 breakwater, which now defends the urtiticial harbor to some 
 extent. The surf beats ui)on the shore most violently when 
 the wind is in certain (quarters. The travelers who are 
 about to embark are still borne upon the brawny shoulders 
 of coolies, and deposited in deep native boats, Avhich are 
 composed of planks bound together with thongs and caulked 
 with cocoanut libre, in which no niuls or rivets are used, 
 
 Cnil.D ON A LEAF OF THE VICTOItlA KEGIA. 
 
 since they would soon be wrenched out of their places by 
 the butfetings of the heavy surf. 
 
 Some beautiful government Iniildings there are in 
 Madras; the law courts being especially line. This build- 
 ing, designed after the architecture of a Maliommedan 
 mosque, is crowded with minarets and domes jirojecting 
 from every angle. But this s])lendid structure, and a few 
 others like it, only emphasizes and makes more marked the 
 stjualor of the native section. However, the clinuite is not 
 severe. Little shelter and less energy are required in order 
 to live ; the wants of the people are few, and perhaps they 
 
n 
 
 330 
 
 LIFE IK THE STREETS OF MADRAS. 
 
 tiJ 
 
 iU'c its liiippv as tlicii- iiioi'p t'iiNoi'cd c'()iii|)iiiii()iis in otlici' 
 cities and clinics. 
 
 Here ill tlic tanks and rt.'scrvoirs ar(» found not only the 
 sacred lotus Howors with tiieir In-oad loaves, but the \'ic- 
 toria Regia, iiianv of which are quite stron«^ and lar<^e 
 onoui'li to hold a cliihl three to four years of nm\ A little 
 brown-faced i)aby, when wei«»hed, tipped the scales at just 
 twenty-ei<^ht and a half pounds, and the leaf n])on which ho 
 sat hardly shiiiped a cupful of water under his wei<^ht. 
 
 THE I'orCLAK MADKAS III NT. 
 
 In the streets of ^fadras as in all those Eastern cities 
 may be seen every possible occupation gointr on before the 
 face and ey(^s of the world. Here are the weavers and the 
 carpenters an<l the shoemakers and the barbers, and every- 
 where the inevitable throng- of loafers. 
 
 It is not at all nncommon to see a row of old men and 
 "women, and younger ones, too, for that matter, sitting in 
 the glaring sunlight engaged in ''the Madras hunt," where 
 the unhai)i)y hunting grounds are each other's heads. 
 
 One day a wedding procession passed by. Three silent- 
 
^ '. -i 
 
 
 
 S' H, — X 
 
 i4i i 
 
 r/, — 
 
 t < ? 
 
 3; 'i. ^ 
 
 5=5 
 
 c ;3 
 
 li 
 
 It 
 
 « sr* 
 
 ■ i 
 
1' h' 
 
 I „ 
 
 ']■ 
 
 ii 
 
 
"bratty" makers and "punkah-wallahs.' 333 
 
 treading', knock-kneed, ragged camels led the way, covered 
 with bright cloths and much tinsel. There seemed to be 
 little merriment or life about the procession, and I presume 
 the poor young girl who was going to the home of her aged 
 husband, whom i)erhaps she had never seen, felt as melan- 
 choly as the solemn ])rocession seemed to indicate. 
 
 The extreme pov- 
 erty of the people is 
 ])erhai)s nowhere more „ 
 indicated than b}^ the y, 
 women whose business i 
 it is to pick up every f' 
 particle of manure from ,, 
 the streets, and to make 
 it into fiat cakes ('" Brat- 
 ty" as it is called), 
 which they dry upon M,^ 
 the sides of tiie walls ^Mi;'"^'- 
 of the houses. Then it 
 is picked off and sold 
 for fuel. Hundreds of 
 these women with high- 
 ])ilod baskets of this 
 fuel are met with every- 
 where as one ffoes about 
 
 liUATTY MAKINCi 
 
 the streets. 
 
 The " punkaii- wallah," too, or tiie num wlu^ ])ulls the 
 huge fans with which every olHce, dining-room, parlor, and • 
 chui'ch is provided, is a well-known character in INiadras, as 
 in all Southern India. I must say I have seen days in Xew 
 York and Boston when a punkah was as necessary as it 
 ev^en is in hot ]\radras. This occu})ation often descends from 
 father to son, for many generations, and the true punkah- 
 
f 
 
 334 
 
 EXTREMES OF SOCIAL LIFE. 
 
 wallah by instinct and training becomes so expert that, 
 tying the string to his toe, he will go to sleep and still keep 
 jerking away at the cord to fan the hot brows of the Euro- 
 peans within, who may be dining, or reading, or writing, or 
 sleeping, as the case may be. 
 
 In the streets of Madras I have frequently seen the 
 women and dogs lying together in the glaring bright sun- 
 light, one apparently as happ}'^ and as unconscious of degra- 
 dation as the other. 
 
 On the other hand, many among these people are well 
 educated, and bright and intellectual. The nuignificent law 
 courts are crowded with native lawyers, Avho are as fine 
 a body of men in their gowns and wigs as can be met with 
 in any hall of justice in the world. 
 
 Nowhere does one meet with greater extremes of social 
 life. Nowhere is there greater need or greater scope for the 
 life-giving religion of Christ than in this swarming city of 
 India. Here, in IVLadras, I am glad to say there is much 
 missionary activity. In some parts of the Presidency the 
 Telugu people are flocking to the standard of the Cross 
 by tens of thousands, and it seems to be only a question 
 of time when the Avails of caste prejudice shall be broken 
 down and Avhen the empire of India shall take its place 
 among the great Christian empires of the world. 
 
• CHAPTEE XAaiL 
 
 PEN PICTURES FROM NORTHERN INDIA. 
 
 TJie Mouth of the IIoogly-A Precuutioii-From the Parisian to the 
 Pariah -The Great Banyan of the Geographies - Ten Thousand 
 Troops under its Shade -The Burning Gliat-A Sidewalk Barber's 
 Shop - A G'-astly Group - Innumerable Beggars - Religious Parasites 
 
 — The Old Fakir's Offering -The Bathers in the Ganges- A Devoted 
 Son -Dying at her Leisure -A Burning Ghat - Decorations after tlie 
 Bath -Burning the Dead -Hindu Tlieologv- Towers of Silence - 
 Dreary Biers and Hungry Vultures — A Cannibal Feast — The Jews of 
 India — Why Tliey Give their Bodies to the Vultures — The Bondage of 
 Caste -Paying Dear for liis Dinners -A Venerable Bridegroom - 
 Match Makers in India -The Stars Favorable and ]\[arriages Frequent 
 
 — A Wedding Procession — A Pathetic Mite of a Bride —A Matter-of- 
 fact Wooer. 
 
 I ROM Madras to Calcutta the voy- 
 age is comparatively uninteresting 
 until one draws near to the great 
 political Capital of India. As we 
 near the mouth of the IIooo-lv 
 river, one of the great Deltas of the 
 Ganges, which i)ours its muddy 
 watei's into the Bay of Bengal, for 
 many miles the eye can follow the 
 distinct line of demarkation be- 
 tween the fresh Avater of the sacred 
 river and the salt Avater of the bay. 
 After a little the low lino of palm trees on one side 
 shows that we have entered the vast and capacious mouth of 
 the Hoogly, which of all rivers is most difficult of navigation 
 on account of its shifting sands and its treacherous shoals. 
 
 (335) 
 
33G . THE MOTLEY POPULATION OF CALCUTTA. 
 
 "While the pjisseiigers were at "tiffin" the stew.irds closed 
 all the ports of the vessel, and Avhen we asked the reason for 
 this sinnniarv shutting otf of our supi)ly of fresh air, the 
 captain informed us that we would have a better chance of 
 escape if the vessel should strike a sandbank and keel over, as 
 more than one vessel had been known to do. 
 
 A distressing disaster of this kind occurred not many 
 months since when all the passengers were below, either 
 in tiieir cabins or the public saloon, and many of them were 
 drowned like rats in their holes. 
 
 However, a good Providence favored us, no accident or 
 delay occurred, and, on the morning of the 3d day after 
 leaving Madras, the " 6/' i/*'(/M " steamed up to her dock in 
 the busy port of Calcutta. 
 
 This citv is one of the most interestini>- in all the East, 
 
 / interesting not solely or chieHy on account of its s[)lendid 
 
 / government buildings or fine warehouses or expensive docks, 
 
 but more especially to the traveler because of its conglomei'ate 
 
 poi)ulati()n of every shatle and color, every nationality and 
 
 1 costume on the face of tlic earth, from the Parisian-clad 
 
 European to the Pariah in all his s(|ualid nakedness. 
 
 In some particulars the zoiilogical gardens in Calcutta are 
 
 i quite beyond any of their European rivals ; the collection of 
 
 , parrots, for instance, is surprisingly large, their plunuige 
 
 most gaudy ; and the pigeons, some of them as large as 
 
 Guinea hens, with tufted crests and fan-lilvc toplcnots, were 
 
 the most uiii(pu> I have ever seen. 
 
 The botanical mirdens are even lar(>'er and finer than the 
 zoiilogical. The most interesting feature here is the great 
 banyan, which is said to be the mo(l(>l from whicli the 
 banvan of the old "•eo<j:i'a|)liies was drawn. It is stated that 
 10,000 troops can be mustered under the shade of this tree. 
 How many hundreds of thousands of school boys and school 
 
THE BANYAN OF OUR SCHOOL DAYS, 
 
 337 
 
 girls have in imagination gathered beneath its umbrageous 
 shade it Avouhl be inqxjssible to reckon. 
 
 But here it stands just as it k)oked in the geograi)hy of 
 our school (hiys, with its drooping ])en(hints, which, after a 
 time, take root and deveh^p into huge truidvs, only to send 
 out other ])en(lants, which, in turn, develop into other trunks, 
 and so on, ad injinitum. There seems to be no limit to the 
 growth of a well-developed and carefully cultured banvan 
 tree. Theoretically, at least, it might cover a })rovince or a 
 nation, or grow indefinitely until it reached a clinuite or a 
 soil in Avhich it could no longer flourish. 
 
 The '• burning ghat " is another famous place in the en- 
 virons of Calcutta. This is a huge, one-storied, shed-like 
 building, in which the bodies of deceased Hindus are 
 burned. As this particular "ghat" is situated on the banks 
 of the sacred Ganges it is a very famous one, and the fires 
 within are perpetually kept Inirning. 
 
 Let us take a drive there this bright February morninir. 
 Our little party will just fill a gharri, one of the character- 
 istic veliicles of this Eastern land. AVe Avill put up the 
 blinds on every side so that we can look out in every direc- 
 tion, and miss none of the sights and bits of sr^nery which 
 are sure to greet our e\'es. 
 
 The sun has just risen, for the early morning is the best 
 time to visit the gliat. The jworer part of the native popula- 
 tion is shaking itself awake after the slumbers of the night. 
 It does not take the poor peoi)le of Calcutta long to make 
 their toilets. Tlieir mats are spread in little recesses from 
 the sidewalks which they call their homes, and all that is 
 necessary for them to do in the morning, is to straighten up 
 from their recumbent jjosition, roll up their mats, Avash 
 their faces at the nearest fountain or public faucet, or, in 
 default of one of these, at the nearest pool of stagnant water 
 
> if: 
 
 i 
 
 338 
 
 ON THE WAY TO THE BURNING GHAT. 
 
 or mnd piuldle. They seemed to take great pains with their 
 teeth, and we see scores of them this early morning hrushing 
 and washing their mouths most assiduously ; the bright, 
 brass water jars near by holding the little water that is nec- 
 essary for this internal ablution. 
 
 Even at this early morning hour, Calcutta's swarming 
 myriads are beginning their daily toil. Shop doors are 
 opening, early birds are looking for the unwary worms, and 
 the bustle and hum of life begins. Here, for instance, quite 
 
 A CALCUTTA BARBER SHOP. 
 
 on the sidewalk, a Hindu barber, in Avhite cloth and turban, 
 is sitting on his haunches, assiduously scraping off the hirsute 
 growth of another Hindu Avho, during the operation, gazes 
 on his own homely face in a glass which he himself holds. 
 Could a more uncomfortable barber's chair be imagined ? 
 
 As we draw near to the sacred Ganges, the crowd of pil- 
 grims that is also wending its way thither grows larger, 
 more cosmopolitan and more interesting. Here are Hindus 
 from every part of India and of every conceivable caste. 
 Here are fakirs whose holiness and sanctity are measured by 
 
A PARADISE OF TRAMPS AND MENDICANTS. 
 
 339 
 
 the length of their hair, and apparently, by the thickness of 
 the coat of dirt upon their vile bodies ; and here also are 
 many common ])eople representing all classes and conditions 
 of Hindus. In one place beside the road is a curious group 
 gathered around a pile of sacred ashes. They look pecu- 
 liarly ghastly in the bright sunlight of the early morning, for 
 they have anointed themselves 
 with oil from top to toe, and 
 have then besmeared themselves 
 with the ashes. A singularly 
 gray and grizzly look is given to 
 them by this operation. Still 
 others have gone down to the 
 waters of the sacred stream 
 Avhich flows near by, and have 
 covered themselves over, from 
 the crowns of their heads to 
 the soles of their feet, Avith the 
 slime and mud from the river's 
 banks. By the side of the road 
 are numberless beggars with 
 little piles of rice before them. 
 This has been given them by 
 the devotees who have just 
 bathed in the Ganges, for it is 
 considered a peculiarly meritorious act to give something in 
 charity after the morning bath in the holy waters. Of 
 course beggars take advantage of such generosity, and swarm 
 in almost innumerable throngs to this spot, which may be 
 considered the very paradise of tramps and mendicants. 
 
 It also goes without saying that the superstition of the 
 people is taken full advantage of by the religious parasites 
 who live on the fears of the ignorant. 
 
 V -- 
 
 A HINDU FAKIR. 
 
 \ 
 
 > 
 
340 
 
 HOW TO OFFEK A (.IKT TO THE (iAN(JES. 
 
 Hero is ail old fakii- with loii^, I'opy liair and a tliick 
 crust of dirt on l('<^-s and arms, and liairy breast, who lias a 
 htth; shrine in Avhich are three bi'ass •^ods. AVe try to buy 
 one of thef^odsto take home to our friends as a samphi of 
 what is actually worshi])ed on the banks of the (rang-es, but 
 the Avily old Celhnv tells us that these gods have been conse- 
 
 cratetl and that they are not for sale, 
 hut that if we will go to the ba/aar 
 ^vo can get images just like theni for 
 a few annas apiece, lie further 
 intinuites that if Ave wish to make 
 an oll'ei'ing to the gods, he will not 
 object. 
 
 " IJut Avhat would you do with a 
 rupee, if we should give it to you ( " 
 \v(i asked. " AVhy, I would make 
 an olfering of it to the Ganges," he 
 I'cplied. " ]iut you do not mean 
 that you would throw good silver 
 into that muddy river? "No," he 
 replied, " I would buy rice with it 
 and eat the rice, but I Avould throw 
 some grains of it in the river and 
 thus dedicate your rupee." Perhaps 
 the man's honesty demanded a re- 
 ward, but it was very evident, even if he had not told us so, 
 that the offering to the Ganges would be made in a meta- 
 phorical and Pickwickian sense. 
 
 Beside this old fakir was a poor fellow Avho was born 
 Avithout arms ; next to him, a man Avith his legs cut off above 
 the knees ; a Avoman came next Avitli a puny, shivering, sickly 
 baby in hei- arms ; all api)ealing to the generosity and com- 
 passion of the tlevotees, Avho, as they i)assed by, Avere very 
 
 A LONd HAIKED FAKIU. 
 
BATHINfJ IX THE SACRED STREAM. 
 
 341 
 
 likely to throw them a quarter of an anna piece or at least a 
 handful of rice. 
 
 As Ave look toward the river, we see it thronged with 
 bathers, men and Avomen alike, in scant bathing clothes, 
 dipping and s])lashing and sousing the sacred water over 
 their bodies with great abandon. After a few moments in 
 the water they come up to the bank to dry themselves in 
 the sun, and put on dry clothes, a very easy process of dress- 
 ing, where the only garment consists of a single strip of 
 cloth, while some of the poorer ones walk off to their homes, 
 dripi)ing and shivering with their wet wrappings clinging to 
 their limbs. 
 
 One old woman whom Ave saw thus journeying home- 
 AA^ard, her di-ipping cloth nuirking every footstep, shivered in 
 the cold morning air as though stricken with palsy. Poor 
 old devotee! I fear that she Avill not stand manv such 
 baths even in the sticred Ganges, for, as she trudges off to 
 her home in her drii)ping garments, her consumptiA'e cough 
 and emaciated body tell us that she is near her end. Perhaps 
 the next time she comes she Avill be brought by her children 
 to breathe her last gasp on the holy bank, for it is thought 
 to be a very meritorious thing to die on these sacred shores. 
 
 Just before the breath is thought to be about to leave the 
 
 body, dying Hindus are often brought hither. Sometimes, 
 
 hoAvcA^er, there is miscalculation, and the person is not so 
 
 near his end as is suj)posed. In such circumstances it is 
 
 said, though I cannot vouch for the truth of the story, tliat 
 
 the mouth of the dying ])erson is tilled with sacred mud, and 
 
 the end is thus hastened ; for it is not Avithin the bounds of 
 
 custom (and custom hei'e is as the laws (^f the Medes and 
 
 Persians) for a jierson who has once been brought to th(> 
 
 banks of the Ganges to be taken home again, however long 
 
 he mav obstinately persist in livir-- 
 21 
 
f 
 
 I 
 
 
 i!'l 
 
 I'll 
 r : 
 
 ^M 
 
 342 
 
 DECORATING AFTER THE BATH. 
 
 One devoted son of whom I have lieard, lias built a little 
 house for his mother, whom some years ago he brought to 
 the river's bank on the supposition that she was about to 
 give up the ghost. She did not die, however, as was ex- 
 pected, but i)ersisted in getting better ; so there was nothing 
 f<jr this filial son to do, as she could not be taken back to her 
 house again, but to build a little house for her on the banks 
 of the river, where she might wait her end and die at her 
 leisure. 
 
 At one place Avhich we pass, a Avealthy Hindu, as an act 
 of religious merit, has built a " bathing ghat." As we look 
 into this ghat or bath house, which is open to all sight-seers, 
 as well as to the four winds of heaven, being simply a 
 covered shed with a tessellated stone pavement, we see the 
 })ilgrims who have just bathed in the river receiving their 
 morning shampoo. 
 
 Men who understand the business are rubbing and knead- 
 ing the bathers most assiduously, after which they are 
 anointed with oil, their eyebrows and finger nails are 
 stained with the proper pigment, and sacred ashes in red and 
 white and yellow are mixed with oil and rubbed upon their 
 foreheads in a most artistic way, in lines and circles and 
 little spots, which often have the effect of a coarse kind of 
 tattoo. 
 
 But all this time we have been drawing near the " house 
 of burning," though our progress has been slow on account 
 of the number of interesting sights on every hand which 
 claim our attention. 
 
 Here is the famous ghat at last. After being conducted 
 through one or two small ante-rooms Ave come to a large, 
 shed-like building wliicli opens upon the Ganges on one side, 
 while the side next to the public road is entirely closed to 
 view. There is no roof to intercept the passage of the 
 
 
THE BURNING GHAT. 
 
 343 
 
 smoke from tlic bui'nin<^ bcjdios to the stars. In the soil 
 around which tlie walls of the enclosure arc built are eigh- 
 teen hollow places about six feet long and two feet wide. 
 Here the bodies are laid ; wood and straw is piled around, 
 over and under them; the nearest relative lights the lire; 
 the poor, hunuin clay, deserted of its spiritual tenant, is 
 wrapt in flames, and in about two hours nothing is left but 
 
 THE BUIININO OIIAT. 
 
 a little pile of ashes, which is carefully swept up and thrown 
 into the sacred waters which flow near by. 
 
 Poor people who cannot afford to burn their relatives 
 light a little wisp of straw, blacken their faces with it, and 
 throw the bodies unceremoniously into the Ganges. For- 
 merly it was said that travelers up the river met many of 
 these deserted human tenements floating down the stream. 
 Now, I think, the practice is forbidden by law, and the 
 sight of floating bodies is uncommon, but by no means 
 unknown. 
 
r 
 
 Ml 
 
 li 
 
 344 
 
 PAYING B^OR THE REPOSE OF THE DEPARTED. 
 
 II 
 
 i\ 
 
 On the (lay of our visit to the burning ghat there was 
 but one body undergoing crenuition, and that the body of a 
 little chihl. The morning l)et'ore, however, the attendant 
 told us that no less than eleven of the eighteen ghastly tire- 
 |)laees were filled with burning bodies at one time, and an 
 average of twenty each day are brought to this particular 
 ghiit for cremation. 
 
 Hindu theology says that after the body luis been burned, 
 the parts all are joined once more and must march through 
 a river of mire and blood, but if the friends of the dead man 
 will give the Brahmin a cow, his journey Avill be nuicb 
 easier ; this is certainly a very convenient doctrine for the 
 Brahmin priest to promulgate. 
 
 After the dead man gets beyond this unpleasant s))()t he 
 must walk over ground like tiery hot cop})er, and if a pair of 
 shoes is donated to the priest it would be more })leasant for 
 the departed sj)irit. Next the spirit comes to a road full of 
 spikes, and if the friends will only give the Bi'uhmin a bed- 
 sj)read, the spirit need not lie ujxm the si)ikes. By this time 
 the i)riest is ])retty well fitted out, and the dejKirted spirit is 
 allowed to get along as best it can. Thus <1() these mercen- 
 ary religionists i)rey upon the fears and su[)erstitions of their 
 ignorant followers. AV^hat a contrast this to the unselllsh 
 invitation, "''\>jiio unto Me and I will give you rest." 
 
 If, now, in imagination, we ])ass over the 1,5(H) miles of 
 mountain and valley and spreading plain that stretch be- 
 tween Calcutta aiul the connjiercial ca])ital of India, 
 Bombay, we shall find still Jinother very peculiar i)rocess of 
 disposing of the dead, for in Bombay are 80,000 Parsees, 
 who neither bury n(ir burn, but expose their dead on towers 
 built on hill t()])s, called "Towers of Silence." The Towers 
 of Silence in Bombay number five, and are situated in the 
 midst of a beiaitiful garden. It is a most im[)ressive and 
 
 1. 
 
THE TOWEKS ',)F SILENCE. 
 
 345 
 
 solemn place, and, though exceed in <^iy i'ev()ltin<^ in some of 
 its particulars to the Western mind, is nevertlitfless a place 
 of intense intei'est. 
 
 After death tiie ])ody of the J*ai'see is taken to the lowest 
 floor of the house in which the dead })ei'son was horn. There 
 the priests pray for the soul that has left the hody, and a 
 dog is brought in to look at the corpse. Afterwards it is 
 wrai)i)cd in a sheet, laid on an iron bier, and carried to one 
 of the Towers of Silence. The fi-iends follow on foot, as no 
 carriaires are allowed at a Parsee funeral. The mourners 
 
 'tS'^m^. 
 
 A TOWEK OF Sri.ENCE. 
 
 are all dressed in white and walk in pairs, each pair holding 
 a white handkerchief between them. 
 
 The largest tower of silence in Bombay is a round build- 
 ing, in which are 72 spaces for the bodies of men next to the 
 wall, just below the spaces for the men are 72 more small 
 places for the bodies of women, and, below them, 72 still 
 smaller grooves for the bodies of children. Between the 
 si)aces for the men, women, and children, are little footpaths. 
 On ihese dreary biers are laid the dead bodies of the de- 
 parted, and, before the attendant Parsees have left the 
 silent tower, the hungry vultures, which are always sitting 
 
I 
 
 Hi 
 
 340 
 
 THE FEAST OF THE VULTURES. 
 
 ' i 
 
 h 
 
 I 
 
 like horrid Harpies on tlie ed^e of the tower, swoop down 
 and tear the flesh from the bones and fly back to their filthy 
 perches. Thus they dispute for the last morsel of the dead 
 body until only the bleaching bones remain. After the 
 skeleton of the dead man has been left for some three or 
 four weeks on the tower, the bones are thrown into a Avell 
 in the middle of the tower, where they decompose after a 
 while into lime, and are washed out by the descending rains, 
 and are thus finally disposed of. There is something pecu- 
 liarly disgusting to many minds about such a disposal of the 
 dead, but, from a sanitary point of view, the physicians say 
 that it is not by any means the Avorst of methods. 
 
 On the day of our visit fully one hundred of the thou- 
 sand vultures wdiich are said to haunt the toAvers of silence 
 were sitting in a dreadful h^ suggestive way on the edge of 
 tlieir stone paraj)ets, Avaiting for the horrible feast which 
 Avould be spread for them before the day Avas over. 
 
 There are many things of living, healthful interest in this 
 great city of Bombay. The streets are Avide in some por- 
 tions of the city, and lined Avith really magnificent build- 
 ings. As one drives along the street he sees not only 
 Hindus of every caste and condition of life, but Parsees Avith 
 their curious glazed ca})s, Jains Avith their two-cornered 
 turbans, and Arabians in voluminous garments Avith coils of 
 camel's hair around their heads. 
 
 Brilliant cok)rs, too, abound CA^eryAvhere, — red, and 
 green, and blue; Avhile the higher class Avomen in their 
 graceful, transparent, silken robes, interwoven Avitli delicate 
 figures in subdued colors, add a very picturesque element to 
 the crowded streets. 
 
 The ]\roliamniedans are of course verA' numerous. It is 
 said that there are more Mohammedans in Bombay than in 
 any other city in the world. 
 
A POLYGLOT POPULATION. 
 
 347 
 
 Of all this polyglot population, the Parsees are the 
 most interesting. Many of them are well-to-do and some 
 of them are very wealthy. Their cast of countenance is 
 decidedly Jewish, and their long aquiline noses and shrewd 
 business features would not look out of place in the Jewish 
 quarters of Amsterdam or Frankfort. Their great teacher 
 was Zoroaster, who lived 1,200 years before Christ, and their 
 religion has few of the revolting, idolatrous elements which 
 characterize the mass of heathen religions. 
 
 They are sometimes called fire- worshipers, Avhich is not, 
 however, a correct designation. In worshiping God they 
 say one ought to look at some of the wonderful things that 
 He has made, such as the sun, the moon, the water, or fire, 
 not that these elements are gods but in them they see God 
 revealed. 
 
 This idea lies at the root of their burial practices. They 
 cannot put the bodies in the ground according to their 
 notions, or else the earth would be defiled. They cannot 
 burn them, for fire is a sacred element. They cannot throw 
 them into the river, for the water would l)e desecrated, but 
 the vultures, being unclean birds, can dispose of the dead 
 bodies without defiling land or water, fire or earth. 
 
 If one walks in the beautiful Victoria Gardens towards 
 sundown, he will see the greatest variety of Eastern peoples 
 to be found on any spot on the face of the earth. Accord- 
 ing to the latest census, in Bombay alone, sixty-one different 
 languages are s})oken, and the castes are almost innumer- 
 able. The distinctions of caste are giving way to some 
 extent in Bombay as in other parts of India, but very, very 
 slowly, and among the great masses of population it is still 
 considei'ed a most disgraceful and outrageous thing to lose 
 one's caste. 
 
 A mother will turn her child oat of doors if he eats a 
 
1' 
 
 111 
 
 . 348 
 
 THE RIGOIiS OK CASTE. 
 
 IE ' 
 
 i, 
 
 ■ ? 
 ; 1.. 
 
 li 
 
 s 
 
 1 i 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 ]);n'ti('lo of food tliat is ])i'(^|)iU'('(l ])y ii woman of lower casto. 
 A woman will desert lier liusbimd wliom slie susjx'cts, not of 
 marital unfaithfulness, but of liavin<^ dined with some one; 
 of lower raidv thiin himself. Kveii th(! cooUs in the kitchen 
 ^vill sliake the dust fi'om olf their feet and indignantly leave 
 tli(^ s(^rvic(; of liim who lias in any way hi-oken his caste and 
 <lelile(l himself by foi'^^'ettin^' the strict ceremonial obscM'v- 
 ance which the bonda<^(! of tlu? a<^(,'s lias imposed. 
 
 Jlere is a, ])ai'a^i"a])li which 1 have just clipped from an 
 Allahabad paper. " in oi'der to bo allow<!d the ])rivile^<is of 
 the casl(! to which Ik? belon<>'s, a youn^ l>eTi<;ale(^ bari'ister, 
 who had just returnc<l fi'om Kn^land, ))erforme<l Wu) other 
 day an exceedin<4ly un|)leasant Pnii/dKc/iilta ceremony, in 
 the ju'esence of jiundits and many Hindu <^entlemen. It is a 
 distinctive feature of the Hindus of the present day that 
 tiicy are not lu^luctant to re-admit into their fold those 
 whom they regard as social sinners of tlu; blackest dye. 
 But how that l)arrist<'r's Knglish iViends would have stared, 
 if, while \\v was eatin<^ his dinners in London, he had told 
 them what ho would have to cat on his retui-n home." 
 
 AVliat this ceremony of ref^aininj;' cast(; is, is not to bo 
 oxj)lained hero. It woidd not be ])ossibl(! .to (mter into 
 (Uitails for they ai'e not foi* ears ))olite, and we will only say 
 that this young barrister had to eat the vilest compound 
 which can bo jjossibly imagined, to pay for the gay dinnei's 
 of which ho had partaken in tho lan<l across the sea. 
 
 Hero is another jiaragraph from one of these progi'ossivo 
 pa|)ers, which shows the; im|)ationco of modei'n Hindu life 
 with i\w ceremonial shackles of tin? past: ''He is aged S2 
 and he is to marry a girl of the .same sect, aged Id. They 
 are both Madhwas, and the holy rite of mati'imony will bo 
 ])ei'foi'me(l at Madi'as; yet peojile say we live in a progi'oss- 
 
 ivo a<ro 
 
^tArrn-MAKiN(j as a tuokkssion. 
 
 349 
 
 Tli()ti<^li the l)i'i(l(!<^i'()<)iii is not oI'Umi so old iis tlic! vcnri'- 
 ahlc pJU'ty lioi'o alluded to, tli(^ l)i'ide is ol'tcjii (jiiitc; as yoim<^', 
 uiid rnMiucntly iniicli youn<^(M' than the ton-y<'ai'-old ;;irl who 
 Avas sold into niatfinionial slavci-y at Madi'as. T\\o. usual 
 i\*y() I'oi' a man to niai-i-y is sixteen or seventeen, the rre<|uent 
 iiii'o i'oi" a yii'l, eiiiht or nine. Not unconnnoidv she is 
 
 A IIINUU lUlIDK. 
 
 inari'ied when three or four years of a^e, thou<;h she does 
 not ^i) to liv«! at onct^ in her liushand's iiouse. 
 
 Th(! Itusiness of the match -makers in India is not a s<!eret 
 and clan(l(!stin<! affair as in AnK^rica, nor are match-makers 
 look(;(l upon as meddlers with other ])eoj)l(?\s husiness, hut it 
 is an open, lionorable, ;ind avowed occuj)ation. 
 
 These match-makers spend theii* time in ^'oin;^- alxMit 
 arran^in^ for marria^-es. AVlien they have found a hoy and 
 a ^irl that they think will make a <j;()od cou|)le, they f^o to 
 
 
ff 
 
 350 
 
 A WEDDING PROCESSION. 
 
 1 
 
 r 
 
 ' I!' 
 
 r 
 
 u 
 
 Hi: 
 
 tho j)iircnts and talk tlie inattor ovci", i»i'aisin<^ up the littlo 
 fr\v\ to the ])aronts of tlio boy, and laudin;,^ the beauty and 
 tho wealth and the f^ood disjjosition of tho boy to the <;'ir]'s 
 parents. Of course their descriptions are taken with a ^rain 
 of salt, and the matclnnakers' flowing accounts are not 
 altoji^^ither trusted, but they are usually the intei^nediaries 
 throu<^h whom the youthful ])air are broug'ht to<,n>ther. 
 
 AVhen wo wei'o in I>ond)ay, the stars were favorable, and 
 the })riests })roclaiined that for many months to come there 
 would not be such desirable lieavenly auspices for connubial 
 l)liss. On this account weddings wore very frecjuent, and we 
 could scarcely go along any oi' the crowded streets wliere 
 Hindus most do congregate without seeing one or more 
 wedding processions. 
 
 They wore most gorgeous affairs. First would come a 
 bi'ass band blaring with its trum[)ets and boating its cymbals 
 and drums. Then would come tho family friends of tho bride 
 and bridegroom arrayed in all their linory of bright-colored 
 silks; theii' arms, wrists, noses, and ears bedecked with 
 chains and bracelets, jewels, and rings, large and snudl, of 
 most elaboi'ate desi/ns. Then fre(|uently we would see the 
 bridegroom trying to look grave and dignified with all the 
 bui'den of his sixteen years resting luNivily upon his 
 shouldei's. Often he would b<^ <lecke<l and gai'landed with 
 flowei's and chains and jewels so that his face was scai'cely 
 visible. Sometinu^s a companion would walk by his side 
 solemnly fanning him. 
 
 The bridegi'<K)m is usually perched upon a high horse, 
 and if the later stages of the wedding have been reached 
 the little bride is often seen behind her husband. Fro(piently 
 she is a tiny, j)athetic little mite indeed. She ought to be in 
 tho nursery ])laying with her dolls, or in the kindergarten 
 learning her A 1> ("s, but instead of this the resi)onsibilities 
 
 kML 
 
EXPENSIVE CEREMONIES. 
 
 351 
 
 of woniiinhood liuvo been tlirust on licr in licr infancy, and 
 sho is boi'no off to licr husband's liouse to live tiie stupid, 
 uncv(3ntful life of tlio zeruma. 
 
 The we(hlinif ceremonies hist numv (hivs, and are accom- 
 panied by ^^^reat expense to the fatlier and mother of tiie 
 bri(U! at whose liouse they take ])lace. Oftentimes the poor 
 man Avill spend his last rupee, mort^^age his ])roj)ei'ty, and go 
 in debt for years to come for the sake of givin;s^ his daughter 
 a j)ropcr wedding feast. 
 
 Though he lives in rags, dirt, and ])overty, the little girl 
 
 A ZKNANA ( AltHIAdK OF IIOMHAY. 
 
 must for once be decked in silks and jewels l)efore she is 
 carried off to her husband's home. Tin; missionary is fre- 
 (piently called upon to act as matchmaker l)etween the 
 (Jhristian boys aiul girls. One of my friends was rcci^ntly 
 asked by a ])r(miising young man to speak to a gii'l of whom 
 he had heai'd good I'eports as likely to mak(i a suitable wife. 
 lie had never seen hej* but once in his life, and then at a 
 distance. 
 
 The missionary undertook the delicate mattei", but the 
 girl refused the otl'er point-blank. The ardent swain, how- 
 ever, was by jio means discouraged, for when my fi'iend told 
 
352 
 
 MAKING THE BEST OF IT. 
 
 i: 
 
 him of his fortune, he renmrked thut lie Avas ghul to know 
 of the matter without any unnecessary deUiy, since he 
 ah-eady had another (hunsel in mind for the position, to 
 Avhom he hoped the missionary woukl make his next applica- 
 tion, Tso doubt final success smiled upon this persistent 
 though somewhat nonchalant lover. 
 
 These matchmakers' nuiri'iag'es do not always turn out as 
 unhappily as might be supposed, by any means. The young 
 couple, thus brought together, make the best of their circum- 
 stances and of each other. The husband is usually affection- 
 ate, and the wife, from the very force of circumstances, faith- 
 ful. If love's passionate young dream is not exi)erienced, 
 neither is the frequent disillusi(jnment and reaction of mar- 
 ried life in more northern climes, and it is pleasant to believe 
 as we leave this subject that behind the walls of many of the 
 poor mud huts of India, as everywhere else in this old world, 
 is much conjugal felicity, parental affection, and filial 
 devotion. 
 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN THE COUNTRY OF THE GREAT MUTINY. 
 
 Across Nortliern India by Rail — In an Indian Sleeping Car — Scenes from 
 our Car Window — Storks and Penguins, Monkeys and Jackals — "It 
 is a Beautiful ]\Iorning ; Come, Let Us Kill Something " — Detiling a 
 Peddler's Sweetmeats — A Work of Patience and Diplomacy — An 
 Every Day Conversation in India — The ^leeca of the Urahmins — The 
 Monkey Temple — Cawnpore of Bloody Memory — An Awful Page of 
 History — The Angel of Remembrance — Memories of Lucknow — 
 The Gallant Lawrence — Ilavelock's Troops to the Rescue — The 
 Hero's Grave — The Cannon Ball that Robbed the Mother of Her Babe 
 — The City of the Taj Mahal — The Mogul's Promise and How He 
 Kept It— "In Memory of an Immortal Love" — The Hand of the 
 Vandal — " .lane Higginbottom " in the Taj — How the Old King 
 Played Parches!. 
 
 kRO]\I Calcutta to Bombay, as the 
 crow flies, is not much more than 
 a thousand miles, but by the way 
 that most travelers journey it is 
 fully twice that distance, since a 
 considerable detour must be made 
 to take in the historic cities of 
 Benares. Allahabad, Lucknow, 
 Cawnpore, and Agra. 
 
 It is a journey well worth tak- 
 ing, I assure yon, de"i' reader, for 
 it leaves upon tiie memory of 
 every traveler indelible photogra]ihs of marvelous tem})les 
 and incomparable mausoleums; of fortresses and battle 
 grounds, made sacred by the blood of heroic men and 
 women; besides many more peaceful pictures of smiling 
 
 (353) 
 
! 
 
 ■I 1 1, 
 
 364 
 
 THE RAILWAYS OF NORTHERN INDIA. 
 
 ^ , ; 
 
 
 % it 
 
 
 fields and thronging villages, and gaily dressed crowds of 
 peo])le tluit are constantly moving in a kaleidoscopic way 
 across our picture. 
 
 The railway train in which we set forth, like all Indian 
 railway trains, is divided into first, second, and third-class 
 coni})artments, with xn intermediate class corresponding to 
 the third-class, for European travelers only. The fares are 
 exceedingly cheap except in the first-class compartments, and 
 even there they are not extravagant according to our West- 
 ern notions. Tickets in the third-class carriages cost less 
 than one-half cent a mile, in the second-class about one cent 
 a mile, and in the first-class about two cents for the same 
 distance. As a result of these fares, the third-class carriages 
 are always crowded with native travelers ; the second-class 
 are sparingly used by Euro])eans, and the first-class compart- 
 ments are run at a dead loss to the railway company. You 
 need not expect any remarkably luxurious accommodation 
 even in the first-class cars, as we warned you when writing 
 of railway travel in Southern India, No deft poi'ters make 
 up our sleeping berths for us ; no luxurious arm chairs invite 
 rest and repose ; no nickel-})! ated lavatories and toilet rooms 
 fitted up with all kinds of Yankee contrivances need Ave 
 expect. If we take our own servant, as many travelers in 
 India do, he will spread our blankets and quilts, which we 
 must carry with us, upon the seats when night comes, and 
 arrange our pillows as comfortably as may be. He will 
 then seek his own place in a third-class carriage while we 
 betake ourselves to the Land of Nod as quickly as })ossible, 
 for the dull and smoky lam|)s afford no inducement to sit up 
 to read after the evening lamps of the sky have been set 
 aglow. 
 
 "While daylight lasts, however, there is plenty to attract 
 us in the varied scenery through which we are continually 
 
 
BEAUTIFUL AND FEARLESS WILD BIRDS. 365 
 
 passing. Vilhi<,^e succeetls villiige, a curious thi-oiig at one 
 station is succeodod by a more curious throng, as it seems to 
 us, at the next station, and all is life and bustle wherever 
 the train stops. 
 
 Looking from the car window one sees more wild birds 
 and beasts in an liom' whe'i passing over the })lains of North- 
 ern India than he would see in twenty-four hours in Amer- 
 ica. The Hindu regard for life has caused birds and beasts to 
 multiply and abound everywhere. Saucy crows with grey 
 necks, and bright, bead-like eyes, will almost pluck food out 
 of your very hands as you are eating your midday lunch ; 
 green parrots by the hundred will scream at you from the 
 telegraph wires; owls will hoot from their undisturbed 
 ])erch on the to]) of the telegra])h poles ; beautiful birds in 
 blue and crimson plunuige will flutter about the branches 
 wherever a tree is to be seen ; great, red-headed storks, 
 standing almost as high as a man, will unblinkingly contem- 
 plate the rushing train as they stand upon one foot gazing 
 after us ; solemn penguins with heavy bills and huge pouches 
 beneath, will watch us from the bogs in which they are get- 
 ting their noonday meals ; herds of spotted deer will scamper 
 away as tlie train apj)roaclies ; jackals will sneak out of 
 sight, and monkeys will grin and chatter at us from the 
 overhanging branches; while the familiar and unpudent 
 blackbirds and jackdaws will perch on the horns of the goats 
 and cattle as we rush by the jxistui-es, so sure are they, after 
 centuries of protection, that they will not be disturbed. 
 
 What a pity it is that in America every cruel schoolboy, 
 before he reaches the age of mercy and humanity, is allowed 
 to have his rifle and sh(>tgun to })op away at the poor, harm- 
 less creatures which (iod has made, driving them into the 
 solitaiy wilderness where alone they can expect to rear their 
 
 young in safety and jieace. 
 23 
 
350 
 
 AN EDUCATION IN CRUELTY. 
 
 11 4 
 
 I 
 
 "It is a bciiutiful morning; come, let us kill something,'* 
 is the sarcastic Froncimian's comment on the average 
 "shooting" Englishman; a comment which will apply as 
 well to the average American, I am sorry to say. Some- 
 thing besides game laws and legislative enactments are 
 necessary to preserve the sylvan life of our woods and fields. 
 Better is the su])erstitious ilread of the Hindu in regard to 
 life-taking than the indifferent cruelty of the Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 When we stop at the stations and show ourselves on the 
 
 A XATIVK "TrUN-Ol'T." 
 
 platform, a motley tlii'(mg gathers about us. Here is the 
 fruit vendor with his yellow bananas, his loose-jacket 
 oranges, his guavas which rocpiire a considerable course of 
 education before one can enjoy them. Our taste v.v educated 
 up to bananas and oranges and we can buy as numy as 
 we please for a quarter of an anna, or about half a cent 
 apiece. 
 
 Here comes some other railway vendors, with travs full 
 of cakes and sweets of a very doul)tful and curious character 
 to our unaccust(mied eyes. 
 
AN UNFLATTERINCi ESTIMATE. 
 
 357 
 
 The peddler sets them down from liis head, where he 
 ahvuys carries them, as every other buiKde is cari'ied in 
 India, and we are abont to take one of them from his tray 
 to see what it is, when with a gesture of liorror, lie j)revents 
 us from doing so, and insists U])on oui- pointing to what we 
 want from a resj)ectful distance. AV^e soon learn that we 
 shoukl defile all his tray-full of goods by so nuich as touch- 
 ing one of liis sweetmeats with our little finger, so jJoUuted 
 are we in his Hindu eyes; and yet the same jjcddler is 
 doubtless a sweaty, dirty, ragged, and generally disrei)utable 
 fellow, Avho, from his appearance, lias not had a decent bath 
 for a year. 
 
 It raises our Yankee ire somewhat to be regarded as 
 an unclean ])ariali by this dirty specimen of hunumity, but 
 we submit to the inevitable, point to the particular goods 
 that we want, pay for them with a few small copper coins, 
 and take our place once more in our carriage to enjoy our 
 unaccustomed feast. 
 
 Besides these peddlers of fruits and sweets, every large 
 station abounds with venders of more substantial wares; 
 brass-work from IJenares, inlaid marble cui'ios from A"-ra. 
 curiously painted metal ])lates and cups from ]\Ioradabad, 
 and clay ligures of all kinds and shapes and sizes from 
 Lucknow. 
 
 To buy any article in India is a work of patience and 
 dii)lomacy, on the ])ai't of both buyer and seller. In this 
 land I have often thought of Solomon's descrij)tion of the 
 l)urchaser: "It is naught, it is naught, saitli the buyer, but 
 when he is gone his way, then he boasteth." Here is the 
 conversati(m that is usually preliminary to a iHirchase in 
 India. "How much for this clay figured' asks the buyer. 
 
 "One rupee," answers the seller. 
 
 "Too much," is the invariable rej)ly of the buyer; and so 
 
Iff 
 
 358 
 
 DRIVING A BAROAIN. 
 
 II 
 
 r; 
 
 'i . 
 
 J ' ■ ■ 
 
 11- 
 
 !l 
 
 i 
 
 it is, for the seller ahvavs asks at least three or four times 
 as inucli as lie exju'cts to take. 
 
 "How much will you give theni"' asks tlie merchant. 
 
 "Two annas" (one eighth of a rupee), says the i)rospect- 
 ive Ijuyer, tiiinking he ^viii be sure to make liis oiler low 
 enough. 
 
 With a gesture of surprise antl almost indignation the 
 vender re})udiates the otl'er, as much as to say: "This is 
 simply outrageous. Do you insult a nuin by offering him 
 one-eighth of what a thing is worth i However, seeing that 
 it is you, and since I regard you as a very good fi'iend, I 
 will throw off a little something; you may have it for 
 twelve annas." 
 
 "No, no," says the buyer, "I will give you two annas, 
 take it or leave it as you choose." 
 
 "What a hard-hearted, cruel individual you are," the 
 merchant by every look and gesture seems to say; "you 
 would rob the dead of their grave clothes, j'^ou would take 
 the orphan's last crust of bread out of his very mouth ; but, 
 seeing I want to make a sale, I will let you have the image 
 for eight annas." 
 
 Again the buyer shakes his head resolutely: "Two 
 annas, only two annas." 
 
 "Well, vou mav have it for four," savs the seller, but 
 another resolute shake of the head sends him off for a few 
 minutes. 
 
 He has no idea of leaving, however; you may count on 
 seeing him back almost instantly, with an ex})ression of 
 injured innocence on his face, especially if there are other 
 ])eddlers near by, saying by his looks: "Well, rob me if you 
 will, take the last anna from a poor starving merchant, but 
 if you will only give two annas for this beautiful image, 
 why, here it is, take it, it is yours." 
 
r»' 
 
 THE HINDU S HOLY CITY. 
 
 359 
 
 re, 
 
 Then very likely he goes off, chuckling over his bargain, 
 having obtained twice as much from tiie unsusi)octiiig trav- 
 eler as the tiling was really worth. 
 
 Beguiled by such varied scenes as here described tlio 
 time passes rapidly away until we come to the end of the 
 first stage of our ])ilgrimage, the sacretl city of iJenares, 
 
 IN THE MONKEY TEMPLE. 
 
 which is also the end of their journey for many other pil- 
 grims beside ourselves. 
 
 This city on the banks of the Ganges is to the Hindu the 
 holiest ])lace in all the world, and the Holy of Holies is the 
 well full of dead flowers and rice and Ganges water, which 
 is Avorth to the devout Hindu any amount of money per tea- 
 spoonful, so sacred is it in his e^'es. 
 
 The Hindus think that Benares is 80,000 steps nearer 
 heaven than any other })lace, and it is the Mecca of every 
 devout Brahmin. TToro, besides the Golden Temple, is the 
 
i' 
 
 
 
 ih 
 
 
 *ii 
 
 1: /■? 
 
 .'V, 
 
 I i 
 
 3G0 
 
 AT THE MINGLING OF THE SACRED STREAMS. 
 
 groat Monkey Temple, where scores of monlvoys are con- 
 tiiuuilly ruiininn- in uiul out. Ilei'o, too, is the (.'o\v Temple, 
 Avliich is oiilv less sacred than the abode of the monkeys. 
 
 Not many miles Ijeyond Jk'nares is the great city of 
 Allahabad, a very im])ortant i)lace in Central India. AVhen 
 the Hindu ])ilgrim iirst comes to Allahabad, Ave are told, 
 he sits down on the bank of the (Ganges and has his head 
 shaved, holding it over the waters so that every hair may 
 fall into the river, and he believes that for every hair he 
 shall get a millicjn years in heaven. So if a man is only lich 
 enough to take the journey to Allahabad, and has a good 
 head of hair to sjjare, he is sure of a very considerable time 
 in Paradise. The view from the port of Allahabad is most 
 extensive and interesting. Just beyond the fort is the 
 juncture of the two sacred rivei's, the Ganges and the 
 Jumna. The Ganges Hows down dai-k and muddy, the 
 Jumna bright aiul s})arkling, and here where they mingle 
 thc'r water is the })lace of ])laces for all Hindus, the most 
 sacred, cxce])t Iknares, in all the world. 
 
 Here Ih-ahnun priests and fakirs have Iniilt their huts. 
 Here the barbers ])ly their trade in order that the hairs may 
 fall into the sacred sti'eam and thus secure an eternity of 
 bliss. Here, at the junction of the two rivers, on the vast 
 ])lain which, in the wet season, is swe))t by the rushing water, 
 and which is left bare when the dry season returns, a great 
 fair is annually held. Once in six years it is of lai'ger })ro- 
 port'ons than on othei' years, and fully a million ])co])le, , is 
 said, are sometimes encamped on the banks of these sacred 
 
 rivei's. 
 
 Here. su])erstition, ignorance, and ancestral traditions 
 
 lii'i'ims of their mone' 
 
 combme to lleece 
 
 the i)il^ 
 
 and to u'ive to 
 
 them for their hard cash unsubstantial ])i'()mises of l)liss in 
 the Ih'ahn ■ \'s heaven. Allahabad, also, is a great military 
 
 hi 
 
> ■■' 
 
 THE MUTINY AT CAWNPORE. 
 
 301 
 
 , is 
 red 
 
 station for English and native soldiers, and liere, best of all, 
 the American missionaries, both of the Presbyterian and 
 Methodist boards, have flourishing and important schools 
 and churches. 
 
 But our journey is a long orie, and we must hurry on 
 until we reach Cawnpore, a name forever associated with 
 hideous deeds of cruelty and acts of highest heroism. Not 
 only have Englishmen an historic interest in this city, but 
 Americans as well have part in the traditions of the place, 
 for four American missionaries with tlieir wives and their 
 children were among the first to suffer martyrdom in the 
 great mutiny. 
 
 As we recall the awful story of the mutiny, it will be 
 remembered that for many days the little British garrison 
 had defended the helpless women and children who had 
 taken refuge within the fort, with great bravery and de- 
 termination. But there was no great general to direct 
 operations at Cawnpore. Individual courage abounded, but 
 the directing mind was absent. The besiegers pressed more 
 and more closely, until, at last, the garrison capitulated 
 under promise of safe conduct for all the men, women, and 
 children to Allahabad. 
 
 But tlie treacherous villainy of the bloodthirsty Nana 
 Sahib was not then known ; his promises were believed, the 
 fort was surrendered, and the men, women, and children em- 
 barked on beats for ])assage to Allahabad. No sooner were 
 they well aboard before orders came from Nana to fire on 
 the boats and to burn the straw thatch with which they 
 were covered. 
 
 A murderous volley was jjouihhI upo'i the unprotected 
 boats, and of all the hundreds of soldiers and civilians who 
 made up their human freight, only four escaped by swimming 
 and diving and dodging the bullets until they reached the 
 
V, f 
 
 302 
 
 THE HOUSE OF MASSACRE, 
 
 k 
 
 i 1 
 
 mi} 
 
 ■1'? • f: 1 
 
 opposite shore. At this juncture orders came from Nana 
 8ahib to save the women and cliildren alive, after all the 
 men had been killed. 
 
 The women were crowded together in a little building', 
 afterwards known as the "House of ]\[assacre." Two hun- 
 dred and one were thrown into two rooms, twenty feet by ten 
 in dimensions. Here they were kept in mortal and momen- 
 tarv terror of their lives for a few davs, until at last the 
 Nana, hearing that Havelock was on his way to the rescue, 
 and thinking that he would not be so eager to make the 
 attack if he knew that all were dead whom he had come to 
 rescue, sent his soldiers to murder the women who were 
 confined in their narrow quarters. 
 
 The soldiers would not obey his orders, and then the 
 bloodthirsty Avretch sent five professional butchers with 
 knives and hatchets to kill these frail and beautiful English 
 women and their lovely daughters. It took the butchers an 
 hour and a half to finish their horrid task, and for each 
 woman killed they received one rupee. Then when the 
 awful massacre was completed and the clotted blood, ankle 
 deep in the House of Massacre, began to ooze out under the 
 doorsills, the bodies Avere rudely dragged out of the door 
 and thrown into a well near by. 
 
 From some of the bodies the breath of life had not yet 
 departed, but all were ruthlessly thrown into the horrible 
 pit. AVhat a contrast to these scenes of blood and carnage 
 is the peaceful Cawnpore of to-day! No rude alarms of 
 raging foes to-day disturb the silence of the beautiful garden 
 which surrounds the spot where the House of Massacre once 
 stood, and the well hard by into which the bodies were 
 thrown. Around the Avell is a tasteful stone enclosure 
 several feet high, through which one enters by an iron gate- 
 way into the precincts of this most melancholy and pathetic 
 
THE ANGEL OF REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 363 
 
 or 
 
 of all spots in India. Over the well rises a l)eaiitiful white 
 marble angel with outstretched wings, bearing in either 
 hand a triumphant palm branch, — a beautiful design most 
 beautifully executed. 
 
 Around the mouth of the old well, beneath the marble 
 angel, is the inscription in old English characters : 
 
 "Sacre& to tbc ifficmorg of tbe Great Compang of Cbristiaii pco* 
 pic, Cbicflg IClomcn anC> CbilOvcn, CrucllB /RassacrcO IHcar tbis 
 Spot be tbe IRcbel Ittana Sablb an& Cbrown, tbe Bging witb tbe 
 DcaD, into tbe mcll JBcneatb, on tbe I5tb Dag of 5ulg, 1857." 
 
 In the beautiful Memorial church which marks the spot 
 where the heaviest fighting occurred before the capitulation 
 of the fort, are many inscriptions which stirred my soul as I 
 read them with the memory of the horrible butchery, per- 
 petrated so near, fresh in mind. One of tiiese inscrijitions on 
 a tablet reared by a widow in memory of her husl)an(l who 
 had here lost his life, is: "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, 
 saitli the Lord." Another : " "We reckon that the suffei'ings 
 of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the 
 glory which shall be revealed.-' Still another, most appro- 
 priate and touching of all : " These are they which have 
 come out of great tribulation.'' 
 
 Only about forty miles from Cawnpore is the still more 
 famous city of Lucknow, for here were gathered together in 
 the " Ilesidencv," Avhich Avas hastily fortified at the l)Oi>'in- 
 ning of the mutiny by Sir Henry Lawrence, no less than 
 2,242 ])ersons, men, women, and children. Here for eiglity- 
 seven <hiys, by a snuUl handful of troops as compared with 
 the tens of thousands wlio l)esieged them, they were de- 
 fended, until the brave General Ilavelock, with his "Saints," 
 who could always be reHed upon for bravery in action and 
 clemency in victory, relieved the i)lace and rescued their 
 countrvmen. 
 
iiii 
 
 ;]G4 
 
 THE RESTING-PLACE OF HEROES. 
 
 t 
 
 1 I 
 
 i I 
 
 !, i 1 
 
 Mn 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 Soon after the investment of the city by the mutineers, 
 the brave Lawrence, avIio divides with Ilavelock the honors 
 of Lucknow, was struck bv a shell, and, after two davs of 
 suffering-, during which he directed and advised and inspired 
 his troops, he died, crying out : " Xever surrender. Remem- 
 ber Cawnpore. Save tiie women and children." Here, the 
 scene of his heroism, is Lawrence's fitting monument with 
 the world-famed inscription upon it : 
 
 "fjcrc Hc0 one 
 mho trieO to Oo bis Outs." 
 
 Never did man better deserve this simple but compre- 
 hensive eulogy. His dying directions were carried out to 
 the letter; the brave spirit which left his body on July 4, 
 1S57, seemed to find a dwelling-i)lace in every common 
 S()ldier during the awful months of the siege. 
 
 General llavelock's tr()0])s, Avhicli at first came to raise 
 the siege, were themselves invested and beleaguered by the 
 rebel Sahib's scores of thousands; but at last Sir Colin 
 Cam|)bell, with a still larger force, came to the rescue of the 
 rescuers, and, under TLivelock's supervision, the women and 
 children Avere all CDUveyed in safety from their long im- 
 prisonment and taken to Allahabad. 
 
 Only a few days after the successful completion of this 
 bravest rescue in the annals of history, the noble Ilavelock, 
 yiehling to mortal illness Aviiich had come to him in the per- 
 formance of his duty, was laid low, and he is buried, not in 
 Westminster Abbey, as his bravery and devotion deserve, 
 but in a lonely grave some three miles from the Kesidency 
 which he rescued and defended. 
 
 Seldom have I been mor(i doe])ly moved than Avhen visit- 
 ing this scene of lu'roic and jxithetic memory. The Tlesi- 
 dency is now a mass of ruins situated in the midst of beauti- 
 ful gardens ; but well preserved ruins they are, for great 
 
THE RUINED RESIDENCY. 
 
 365 
 
 'O 
 
 it- 
 si- 
 ti- 
 nit 
 
 i 
 
 pains are taken by the English government to mark and pro- 
 tect every reminder of the defense and relief of Lucknow. 
 
 Beautiful vines and creepers, all ablaze with blossoms, 
 cover the ruined walls of the Ilesidency. Here is the spot, 
 we said to ourselves, where men and women of the same 
 flesh and blood as ourselves, for weary day after weary day, 
 heard the whiz of bullet and the shriek of whirring shell. 
 
 Here was the banqueting hall transformed into a hospital, 
 where hundreds of poor fellows with mangled limbs, bleed- 
 
 MOSQUK OF THE GREAT IMAMBAIIA, LUCKNOW. 
 
 ing and dying, were brought to spend their last weary days 
 under the broiling sun of tropical India. 
 
 Here most interesting of all is the " Tvekhana," where 
 the women were im])risone(l dui'ing the siege. This is an 
 underground cellar with lofty walls, which was deemed the 
 safest place in any ]iart of the Residency. Two hundred 
 and ninety-nine women were crowtled into this one cellar for 
 many dreadful weeks. The fierceness of the siege and the 
 way in which evei'v exposed portion was battered by the 
 sharpshooters of the Rebel Army, are well indicated in this 
 
 
 I: 
 
 4l 
 
 iiirjii' 
 
 ■i 
 
irr 
 
 ;. 1 
 
 3G6 
 
 SUFFERINGS OF IMPRISONED WOMEN. 
 
 in 
 
 pl\ 
 
 \ ' 
 
 pu ^ 
 
 
 If ^' 1 i J 
 
 4 \ 
 
 room of suffering and death. Only three or four very small 
 windows at the top of this room admit the light and air. 
 They all slo))e upwards and are overshaded by the projecting 
 buildings overhead, so that it seems impossible for a bullet 
 or a cannon-ball to find its way within this secure retreat. 
 Ilowev'er, the battered walls show that many and iiKiny a 
 shell exploded within the cellar. 
 
 One hole is pointed out to us by the guide (an old sol- 
 dier, by the way, who came to the rescue Avith Ilavelock's 
 army), made by a cannon-ball Avhich swept a baby out of its 
 mother's arm without injuring the mother, while it ])inned 
 the bleeding, mangled remains of the little one against the 
 wall near which the mother was leaning, spattering all the 
 walls, as well as the mother's breast, with the baby's gore. 
 No wonder that the legends of tlie place go on to say that 
 the mother went insane. 
 
 Another hole in the wall is shown us, made by a cannon- 
 ball which whizzed so near a Avoman's ear that she fell dead, 
 killed by fright, though unharmed by so much as a scratch 
 from the ball. 
 
 During this dreadful siege, eight or ten babies Avere born 
 in the Tyekhana, most of whom, strange to sav, lived to the 
 estate of manhood and womanhood. To scores of the brave 
 men Avho defended the Eesidency during that awful siege, as 
 Avell as to Sir Henry LaAvrence and Gen. Ilavelock, may be 
 applied the thrilling verses : 
 
 " Here rest thee, Cluistian warriors, rest from thy two-fold strife ; 
 The battlc-tield of India, the battlefield of life." 
 
 While of the tAvo great generals and commanders Avho lie 
 interred near by may be sung with full assurance of faith : 
 
 " The gallimt chiefs of gallaut meu are inon; tlian couqucrors now." 
 One more city we must visit before avu end this most 
 
 i^* 
 
THE PERFECTION OF ARCHITECTURAL ART. 
 
 3G7 
 
 lie 
 
 interesting and memorable journey — the city of the Taj 
 Mahal — a city justly famous for the one perfect work of 
 architectural art in all the world. 
 
 Agra, the city of the Taj, lies about a day's journey from 
 Lucknow. Its chief gem is the one building that never dis- 
 appoints the traveler ; the one glorious pile that fultills every 
 anticipation. The Taj bursts upon the bewildered view as a 
 thing of beauty and reinains a joy forever. It is not a tem- 
 ple, as many people suppose, but a mausoleum built by the 
 great Mogul, Shah Jehan, over his beautiful Empress 
 " Moom-tiij,' who, by her beauty, her grace, her intellectual 
 abilit}'', and her Avinning Avays, had obtained such power over 
 the Emperor, that when she came to die she made him prom- 
 ise that he would not marrv arain, and that he would build 
 the most beautiful tomb in the Avorkl over her remains to 
 perpetuate her name. 
 
 She died in 1031, and immediately the bereaved Mogul 
 set about. the task of fulfilling his promise, and of building 
 the wonderful tomb which is known by all the world as the 
 " Taj Mahal." It is situated in the midst of a beautiful gar- 
 den of palms and banyan trees, liowering shrubs and bril- 
 liant creepers, fountains and marble tanks full of gold fish. 
 
 On three sides are huge mostpie-like gateways of brown 
 sandstone inlaid with marble, so that one does not see the 
 glories of the Taj until he enters through these massive lofty 
 ])ortals, and the magnificent building breaks at once ujKm 
 his gaze. As the traveler beholds it first against the intense 
 blue of the Indian sky, the white dome seems to be soaring 
 into the sky, so light and airy is the substantial architecture. 
 
 ^V^i were struck dumb by the beautiful spectacle, and 
 dro]ii)ing upon a marble seat at the very entrance of the 
 gardens, we feasted our eyes upon this most splendid of 
 buildings. As we enter the mausoleum, astonisiiment at the 
 

 368 
 
 MARVELOUS DECORATIONS. 
 
 I i 
 
 Mi 
 
 ' I; 
 
 il', 
 
 n 
 
 magnificence and beauty of the building gives place to 
 amazement at the delicate wo!'k which is inwrought in every 
 part of the structure. PijHshed marble and ])recious stones 
 of every descri})tion abountl antl are wrought into the white 
 marble both without and within. On the Empress's tomb, 
 Avorked into figures of flowers, are all kinds of precious 
 stones, bloodstones and agates, jasper and turquoise and 
 
 THE TA.I MAIIAI,. 
 
 lapis lazuli of fabulous cost. In one flower alone, in an 
 obscure corner of the tomb, are thirty-five specimens of 
 brilliant carnelian ; in another leaf forming a single petal of 
 a carnation are twenty-three different stones. In still 
 another flower are 30U different jewels formed into an exqui- 
 site rose. 
 
 But the hand of the vandal had not been withlield even 
 from this most excpiisite production of the ages. Some of 
 these jeweled flowers have been picked to pieces, and the 
 
 
DESECRATED BY TOURISTS. 
 
 369 
 
 precious stones of wliicli they were niiulc carried awa}' ; 
 while on the small crystal windows the tourist has fre(|uentl y 
 cut his conimoni)laco name. Ilei'c we tlnd that "• W. C. 
 Smith" and '' Jane IIig;yinl)ottom " have tried to immortal- 
 ize themselves. I wish that I could hold them up to })erpet- 
 ual ifrnominv for their vandalism. 
 
 Before we leave A<^ra one nioi-e i)lace claims our atten- 
 tion, the palace where the beautiful ([iicen lived. It was 
 built by her husband's grandfather, ])ut hirgely beautified by 
 her own taste and her husband's generosity. The i)rivate 
 rooms of the queen are embellished in the same way as her 
 tomb. Iler bathroom is called the " room of mirrors," and 
 is ornamented with thousands of tiny looking-glasses. In 
 the niches of the Avails Avere jilaced fairy lamps over which 
 water flowed in an illuminated stream to the bath beneath. 
 In another part of the ])alace is the place where the king 
 played parchesi Avith his tAventy-four Avives, sitting in the 
 middle square Inmself, Avhile each of his avIa'cs in a (lifferent 
 colored costume, occu])ied one of the tAventy-fourscpuiresof the 
 tesselated pavement, and moved backAvard and forward as 
 he commanded, until at last she got into the "home circle" 
 Avhich surrounded his august majesty. From tins royal 
 model has come the game so ]K)])uhir Avith the children of 
 America. In still another ])art of the palace we saw the 
 raised dais from wliich the king and his beautiful (pieen 
 looked over the ])arapet into the A'alley beneath, Avhere the 
 ele])hants and tigers Avere com])elle(l to fight for their delec- 
 tation. Those were barbai'ic days in Avhich the palace and 
 the Taj Avere built. 
 
 But we must not linger. Our time for the Avonders of 
 Korthern India is exhausted, and Ave nuist huri'v on to the 
 sea])ort of Bombay, carrying Avith us tln-oughout all ourliA'es 
 enduring memories of the exquisite "Jewel of Agra." 
 
r^ 
 
 ', ' i ) 
 
 > II 
 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN — TIIKOUGII THE GREAT 
 
 DITCH. 
 
 Some of our Fellow Passengers — Missionaries and Men of ^fars — The 
 Little Athletes — Potato Uaces and Hurdle Jumping — The l{ed Sea — 
 A (}liini)se of Sinai --"And a Jhdf, Eight" — Wailing our Turn — A 
 Huge Jaek o' Lantern — A Sight Long to be Remembered — A Stu- 
 pendous Enterprise — A Tarnished Name — Canal Diggers before De 
 Lesseps — In the Canal — Ismaliaand her Donkeys — " Yankee Doodle " 
 and "Washy Washington" — Undeniable Desert — A Woman with a 
 Supidementary Nose — Our First (ilimjise of the Redouin — A Family 
 of Arabs — The Land of Goshen — Pharaoh and his Prime Minister — 
 Bricks without Straw — The Fellahin and How They Live — Their 
 Superstitions — " O, Virgin IMary" — "The Sun Do Move" — The 
 Blessings Brought by Joim Bull — A Ghostly Reminder — How They 
 Carry the Babies — "Backsheesh, Backsheesh" — "Oh Sugar for a 
 Nail"— "God Will Make Them Light, Oh Lemons" — The Little 
 "Sons of the River." 
 
 E who makes the vova^e across 
 the Indian Ocean from Bombay 
 to Ismalia has nothing of ocean 
 horrors to dread, at least in the 
 month of February, Avhen it was 
 our good fortune to make the 
 journey. The majestic steamer 
 sailed steadily on, day after day, 
 over rippling blue seas, while at 
 night she seemed to be cutting 
 
 her way through wavelets of 
 
 molten silver, so bright is the 
 
 phos])horescence of these Eastern Avaters. Even the poorest 
 
 sailor suffered no qualms of seasickness, and men, women, 
 
 and children all enjoyed themselves in their own Avay, as 
 
 their tastes and habits dictated. 
 
 (370) 
 
 , < 
 
 
A FROLIC ON DECK. 
 
 371 
 
 # 
 
 Among our passcngoi's avcm-o many officers of the English 
 army, avIio were going liomo on a furlough, and whoso «>\'- 
 idont (lolight at the thought of seeing the green lieUls and 
 cooling fogs of old England, after years on the ai'id plains of 
 India, was as keen and fresh as that of a schoollxn' on his 
 way home for his Christnuis liolidays. Annmg the ])assen- 
 gers, also, were numy faitidul missionaries, whose service is 
 far more arduous and far less remunerative; than thc^ work 
 of the men of ^lars. These brave sokliei's, too. dcsci've an 
 occasional holiday, and some of them, woi-n and wearied 
 and quite broken in healtii, after years of service, wei'e going 
 ba'ck for a shoi't period of rest to their homes in America 
 and England, 
 
 It so happened that among these missionary and military 
 families were numy ciiildren of all ages and sizes, and a very 
 hap])y day was given them when we all arranged lor a 
 series of races between the little folks, Avith bright ru})ees 
 for prize money. There "vvere straightaway races round the 
 deck, in which an eager-faced little girl, not more than five 
 years old, won most triumphantly, passing the line red- 
 cheeked and panting, but full of gladness that she had 
 beaten her older brothers and sisters, even though she was 
 given a long start at the beginning. Then there were three- 
 legged contests and potato races, marvelous juvenile feats in 
 hurdle-jumping, and all kinds of games for all ages to ])artici- 
 pate in, A brave major, with battle-scars seaming his face, 
 was the starter, a warlike captain was the time-kee])er, and 
 a heroic missionary was the judge; and it is strongly sus- 
 pected that the warriors and the missionaries enjoyed the 
 afternoon quite as much as the children themselves. 
 
 After four or five days of smooth seas and pleasant 
 weather the Vietorni entered the lied Sea, which is so wide 
 in many parts that the sensation is not that of sading 
 
 i 
 
 llii;- 
 
 !« 
 
 'm 
 
 
 :|;ili 
 
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 t> 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-S) 
 
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 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 U° 1 2.0 
 
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 1.4 
 
 1= 
 
 1.6 
 
 v2 
 
 Va 
 
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 V 
 
 M 
 
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 :\ 
 
 \ 
 
 [V 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 0^ 
 
372 
 
 THROUGH THE RED SEA. 
 
 » 
 
 through a narrow canal with land on either side, as one 
 would think when studying the maj), but, for the most part, 
 one imagines that he is on the boundless, shoreless sea. To 
 be sure, once in a while, we see some bold i)romontory in 
 the distance or some towering mountain looming up on the 
 hazy horizon, and occasionally we })ass near a rock}', surf- 
 beaten island ; but, until the steamer reaches the narrow 
 Gulf of Suez, at the northern end of the Red Sea, there is 
 but little difference between one's sensations here and upon 
 the broadest ocean. In fact, the north wind, which often 
 draws through this channel between the mountains quite 
 fiercely, frequently makes the sea rougher than the surface 
 of the neighboring Indian ocean. 
 
 As we approached Suez the eyes of all the passengers 
 ■were strained to catch sight of Mount Sinai, that mountain 
 ■which more than any other on the earth's surface has 
 affected the destinies of mankind ; but it is very rarely that 
 one gets even a glimpse of the Mountain of the Law, for 
 only on the clearest day, when the air is absolutely trans- 
 parent, can it be seen from the steamer's deck. This condi- 
 tion rarely prevails in these latitudes, and the captain of our 
 steamer told me that only on three occasions, although he 
 had sailed up and down the shores of the Red Sea for half 
 his lifetime, has he caught a glim])se of the mountain that 
 once (pinked and smoked Avitli lire and brimstone. 
 
 Toward evening of a beautiful bright day in February 
 Ave approached the low shores of Suez, and could descry the 
 magniticent embankment Avhich indicates the entrance to the 
 Suez canal, that marvel of modern engineering skill. The 
 channel by which the ajiproach is made to the canal is nar- 
 row, the currents are treacherous, and the Avater on either 
 hand is shallow, so that great care must be taken by the 
 larger steamers in ai)proaching the entrance. For some 
 
REVELATIONS OF THE SEARCHLIGHT. 
 
 373 
 
 time before we anchored, waiting for our turn, the quarter- 
 master on either side of our steamer was casting the lead, 
 and singing out in musical accents to the pilot on the bridge 
 the deptli of water beneath our keel. One quartermaster 
 would cry out, "And a half, eight." The next instant the 
 quartermaster on the other side ^\'ould respond, " And a half, 
 seven," showing that the water was rapidly growing shallow 
 and a fathom less was between us and the bottom than a 
 moment before. Then the first quartermaster would chant, 
 "And a quarter, seven," while the one on the other side, in 
 a kind of antiphonal response would answer: "And three 
 quarters, six." 
 
 Thus we felt our way along, avoiding the shoals and the 
 sandbanks, and then had to cast anchor for several hours, 
 waiting for our turn to come to enter the great ditch. 
 
 Night came on, and the stars came out, but even the stars 
 were paled by the brilliant electric searchlight from the 
 tower at the entrance of the canal, which swept around in 
 every direction, bringing out every yardarm, sail, smokestack, 
 and huge trumpet-like ventilator on the vessels about us, in 
 startling relief. Suddenly, as we were gazing out into the 
 darkness, thinking that no object was within the range of 
 our vision, the great fan-lilce wave of light would sweep 
 towards us and rest for an instant upon a full rigged vessel, 
 which would seem to start out of the blackness like a ghostl}'- 
 visitor. For an instant the light would play over its huge 
 bulk like a vast enveloping jack-o'-lantern, and then Avould 
 swee}) on to reveal other objects beyond. 
 
 It was a sight long to be remembered and worthy even 
 
 of the marvelous days of the Pharaohs themselves, who were 
 
 supposed to be versed in all the occult wonders of mystic 
 
 lore. This ghastly white light, sweeping about, ap])arently 
 
 at its own pleasure, seemingly undirected and erratic in its 
 id 
 
371 UNION OF THE RED SEA AND THE MEDITERRANEAN. 
 
 I' 
 
 ¥ 
 
 ' movements, ferreting out all things within its range, glorify- 
 ing the floating seaweed and the flotsam and jetsam borne 
 by the tide, as well as the huge man-of-war and leviathan 
 merchant ship ; this modern miracle, I believe, would have 
 astounded the miracle-workers of old with all their Egyi)tian 
 learning. 
 
 The IGth of November, 1869, was a day long to be re- 
 membered in the history of the world, for that day witnessed 
 the wedding festivities of the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. 
 
 IN THE 8UKZ CANAL. 
 
 On that day was inaugurated the vast enterprise of which 
 the ages had dreamed and which the ingenuity and persever- 
 ance of the great French engineer had made possible. 
 Nearly one hundred million dollars had the canal cost ; and 
 it is said that the Khedive spent no less than twenty millions 
 of dollars in the ceremonies of the inauguration. 
 
 It will be readily seen of what inestimable value the 
 canal is to the commercial world, Avhen we remember that it 
 reduces the distance from London to Bombay from 1 2,500 
 to 7,000 miles, a saving of nearly one-half. From London 
 
THE FIRST WATERWAY BETWEEN THE TWO OCEANS. 375 
 
 to Ilong Kong the distance is over 15,000 miles by tlie Cape 
 of Good Hope, and only 11,000 miles by the canal ; while 
 from Marseilles to Bombay, the distance by the Cape is over 
 12,000 miles, by the canal only 5,000, a saving of nearly 
 sixty per cent. But not only is the canal a stupendous and 
 successful enterprise from a commercial point of view, but it 
 is as successful financially as in every other aspect. The 
 tolls amount to many millions of dollars every year, and are 
 constantly increasing. 
 
 But it must not be thought that in the nineteenth cen- 
 tury was first conceived the project of a waterway between 
 the two oceans, or that De Lesseps' fertile brain was the first 
 to evolve this gigantic scheme. From the very earliest 
 days there was an overland route between the Mediterra- 
 nean and the Red Sea, but it is said that Sethi I, the great 
 prince of the nineteenth Egyptian dynasty, desirous of trans- 
 porting his navies from one sea to the other, built the first 
 canal. A representation of his time on the wall of the ban- 
 quet hall of Karnac, tells us that on his victorious return 
 from Egypt the conqueror traversed a canal, swarming with 
 crocodiles and defended by bastions. 
 
 But Father Time has a great fashion of defacing and de- 
 stroying the mighty works of man. If Avitli his tooth he 
 can gnaw away the pyramids, he has little difficulty in fill- 
 ing up a ditch, however vast it may be, or however impor- 
 tant to the commerce of the world. And so it came about, 
 as the centuries went on, and lesser men occupied the throne 
 of the Pharaohs, and the people relapsed into commercial in- 
 difference, that this canal was obliterated, and even its 
 course cannot be discovered to-day. 
 
 But eight hundred years after the Pharaoh who built the 
 first canal, came Pharaoh Xekho, who was very desirous for 
 the welfare of his country. lie began to construct a canal 
 
370 ANCIENT CANALS, E(JYI"riAN, I'KKSIAN, AM) UOMAN. 
 
 Ixitwccn Ui(! Nilo smd tlu5 Red St^ii, Jind it is said that no loss 
 than 12(»,<M)(» K;4V|)tiaMs |K'i'ish<'(l wliilc cii^a^cd in this work. 
 It was al't(!)'wai'ds al)aii(loiU!d, hc'caiise thr oi'achi tohl I'ha- 
 raoh that the harhai'iaiis nUiUv, would |H'olit by 1h(^ woi-k. 
 However, the woi'lc ali'eady acH^oiiiplislied, and Wu) lives 
 lost, did not ^o alto;.^('lliei' for nothing, I'oi' the canal was 
 ('()in|)leted l»y Dai'ius, the <^i'eat loiiiMh'!" of the I'er'sian 
 Empire, th(i sani(! Darius of whom we read in th(5 I'ook of 
 Daniel, who has Usl't in many ways the impress of Ids mighty 
 personality upon thcs woi-id. 
 
 Even as lat(i as tiui c<!nturv imnufdiatcily Ix'fon! the 
 C/hristian era, tl»(3ro is no douht that tlu; i-emains of this oUl 
 canal were still found, foi* history tells us that after the battle 
 of Aetium, Oleopatra ma.de an effort to eonvey hor ships 
 across tlu; Isthmus of Sue/, in ord(!r to escape with her treas- 
 ures fi'om ()(;tavius. If th(!re had Immmi no canal, she would 
 not have been foolisii enough to tiy to transpoi't Ikm' ships 
 over the land, though it is pr-obable, as tlu; historians tell us, 
 that the canal was in a very dilapidat(!(l condition. 
 
 Aft(!rwards, it is said that the Romans, and later still, the 
 Arai)s, reconstruct(Ml the old canal or dug a newonc^; but the 
 only thing that scMsms to Ixs certain about this vast holct in 
 the ground is, that it l)ecame unservic(>al>le after the eighth 
 century, and foi* a thousand years tin; merchants toilsomely 
 sent their vesscils aroimd thc^ ('ap<' of (iood IIojm!, until De 
 Lessej)s prov<'d the feasibility of the present canal, tlu! possi- 
 l)ility of its constnu^tion, and with unbounded faith and 
 energy overcanui the countless obstacles which lay Ixstween 
 him and trium|»hant success. 
 
 Rut dui'ing all this time our vessel has been anchored 
 near the entrance of tlu; canal, waiting for the signal to bo 
 given that the channel is cl(!ar, and that it is our tui*n to 
 <;nter. At last it comes, and, wi'ighing anchoi-, stealthily 
 
'rni{()r(;ji thk ghkat ditch. 
 
 377 
 
 y 
 
 
 
 i- 
 (l 
 •11 
 
 V(l 
 
 he 
 to 
 
 iiy 
 
 uiid slowly, tlui ^I'oiit sliip swings witliiii tlio bi"«.'iik\vatt;r 
 wliicli (li'lciiKls tliu mouth of tlio cjinal, und very slowly IVels 
 its way Ix^twcoii tlio sundy banks that slrc^tch away on oitiici' 
 side. Tho groat dil(!h is tweiity-livt^ I'ctit wid(^ at tlio l>ot- 
 toiM, whilo oil tho sui'l'aco it is imioh wi<lor, and soiiKitiinos 
 strcitclios out into broad natural lakos, which saved tlu; con- 
 structors ol" the canal iniicli di^^^ing on Ihoir way from sea 
 to sea. TluM'o is very littlo of si)ccial inlcri^st in tho journey 
 to I smal ia. 
 J t takes !^-,t^^", 
 about (iight 
 hours time, 
 so slowly do 
 tli(! st(»amors 
 |)i'o(!e(!d, lest 
 tlie wash of 
 wav(!S which 
 they create 
 should de- 
 stroy tho 
 banks. JJut 
 at last in tluj 
 early morn- 
 in<,' light, tho 
 little modern 
 town where 
 
 we ar(i to leave our floating home comes in sight, and a 
 steam launch soon bears us to i\w shore. 
 
 There is almost nothing to see in Ismalia except tho 
 donkeys and the donk(»y boys. The latter aro ul)i(|uitous 
 and most persistent. They meet you at tho landing; they 
 thrust their donkey in your face and eyes as soon as you 
 step ashore. They plant him befc^re you, broadside on, to 
 
 DONKKY HOY OK I8MAMA. 
 
378 "YANKEE doodle" AND " WASHY-WASHINGTON." 
 
 bar your further progress, unless you mount and ride. 
 They sound his praises in every note of the gamut. After 
 all other recommendations fail, they plead with you to take 
 him because of his " lovely black eyes." One boy even rec- 
 ommended his donkey to us as a "riglar masher." If they 
 suspect you of being an American, they will cry out, " Take 
 my donkey. Master," " My donkey is Yankee Doodle," " My 
 donkey's name is Washington," while one boy gravely as- 
 sured us, thinking that he surely would secure our patronage 
 thereby, that his animal rejoiced in the name of "Washy- 
 Washington." 
 
 We tarry in Ismalia no longer than is a,bsolutely nec- 
 essary, for stranger sights lure us on to the City of the 
 Califs. 
 
 Taking the railway at Ismalia, a journey of a few hours 
 brings us to the ancient city of Cairo. The first part of the 
 way lies through the desert, and a most uncompromising 
 and undeniable desert it is. The yellow sand hems in the 
 narrow railway track on every side, and there is scarcely a 
 green thing far or near to refresh the eyes. Still, barren as 
 is the country, its people are of never-failing interest. 
 Every railway station is bright Avith the colors of the curious 
 costumes of men and women. Here is an orange seller, for 
 instance, with her face entirely covered by a hideous black 
 veil, with only a slit large enough for two piercing black 
 eyes to shine through. Over her nose is a curious brass 
 contrivance like a great supplementary nose, which seems to 
 attach the veil to the upper part of the headdress. Here is 
 another woman -with a heavy water jar on her head, which 
 she carries, standing proudly erect, in a way that shows 
 that she has been used to such burdens from her earliest 
 girlhood. At another station we see a whole family of 
 Arabs squatting upon the platform, tlie women veiled as 
 
GREEN FIELDS AND WAVING PALMS. 
 
 379 
 
 those we have already described, though the little girls are 
 allowed to go with uncovered faces. For the most part, 
 they are a stupid, degraded lot of human beings, with noth- 
 ing of aspiration in their eyes, and no desire to be anything 
 but the hewers of wood and the drawers of water which 
 they and their ancestors have been for so many centuries. 
 
 After a few miles of this desert journey, we grow rather 
 listless and indifferent to that which may be seen outside the 
 
 ON THE BANKS OF THE NILE. 
 
 car window, but suddenly we are aroused from our indiffer- 
 ence by an entrancing sight of green fields and fertile gar- 
 dens and Avaving palm trees, it is as though we had come 
 into a • fairy land, out of a very prosaic workaday world. 
 And indeed we have entered fairy land, and the magician 
 that works the wonder is none other than old Father Tsile. 
 He sends out his life-giving waters, and Avhatever he touches 
 springs into new life and blossoms like the rose. The line of 
 demarcation between the desert and the well-favored lands 
 
■ \ 
 
 3S0 IN THE LAND OF JOSEPH AND MOSES. 
 
 of the Nile is clear and distinct; one moment the train is in 
 the arid purgatory of the desert, the next it is in the smiling 
 paradise of the oasis. 
 
 And this lirst fertile tract to which we have come is none 
 other than the Gosiion of the Bible. ]S"o wonder that the 
 aged Jacob rejoiced when his long pilgrimage was over and 
 he entered into this fair land. We can understand better 
 than ever before the great power that Joseph must have en- 
 joyed to be able to secure this goodly land for his father and 
 his unbrotherly brothers. 
 
 Off in the distance, but a little way from the railway 
 track, are the fields where the Israelites made bricks without 
 straw, and perhaps our eye rests upon the very j)lace where 
 Moses, rendered indignant beyond the power of control at 
 the cruelties which were hea])ed upon his suffering fellow 
 countrymen, slew the Egyptian, and became an exile from 
 the court where he might have reigned as a prince, "choos- 
 ing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to 
 enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season." Our hearts throb 
 within us as we look out on these historic sights, and realize 
 that these were the same sandy plains, the same green fields, 
 watered then as now, " with the tears of the Nile," while the 
 same cloudless Egyptian sky bent over them as over us. 
 Out here rode in majestic state the famous Prime Minister 
 of the Pharaohs, the young man who, by his own virtue and 
 force of character, raised himself from the position of a 
 captive peasant to a prince of the realm. These roads, too, 
 were trodden by the feet of Aaron, the High Priest, by 
 Miriam, the tuneful singer; and along these same highways 
 rumbled the chariot wheels of the great Pharaohs, who, as 
 world-conquering rulers, have never been equaled by Greek 
 or Roman, Turk or Briton. 
 
 We see very little, however, to remind us of the magnifi- 
 
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 «'3'i 
 
 THE EGYPTIAN'S OF TO-DAY. 
 
 383 
 
 cence of the Pharaohs, oi* of the state in which Joseph trav- 
 eled in those early days. Most of the yilla<''es which we 
 pass are mean collections of Avretchetl nuul houses. Their 
 four walls rise scarcely higlier than the head of a nuui, and 
 cxcei)t for an occasional mosque, with its slender minaret, 
 there is no atteni))t at architectural beauty or embellishment 
 of any kind. Most of the lower classes who swarm at the 
 railway stations, and whom we see from the car windows, 
 "wear around their necks charms, written on pajier, and sewn 
 up in leather. They are ignorant and su])erstitious to the 
 last degree, and not only protect themselves, but tiieir cattle 
 in the same way. Every man, as he ])asses a saint's tomb, it 
 is said, mumbles a prayer Avithout stopping, and, saints' 
 tombs being very numerous, a mumbled ])rayer is always on 
 his li})s. Some of the great saints are appealed to on every 
 possible occasion. If a nuin sneezes, or is afflicted with the 
 liiccoughs, or turns his ankle in the streets, he adjures his 
 favorite saint. Even if his legs are stiff as he rises from his 
 seat, he exclaims, " O Virgin Mary ! " Their ignorance is 
 beyond all comprehension, the education even of the upper 
 classes being confined to the narrow limits of the Koran. 
 Kot one of them can be convinced that the earth is not fiat, 
 ■while they agree thoroughly Avith Parson Jasper in his dic- 
 tum that " the sun do move." 
 
 An Egyptian school is a curiosity. The pupils sit on the 
 floor, study their lessons aloud, rocking back and forth, and 
 they make the schoolroom about as noisy as a Avard political 
 meeting. I generally kncAv Avhere a schoolroom Avas at least 
 half a minute before 1 reached its doors. The master squats 
 on the floor, or stands among his pupils, Avho are seated in 
 roAvs or promiscuously scattered through the apartment. 
 Their lessons are given to them upon slates or large cards, 
 and they sit rocking back and forth and studying aloud. 
 
 iA 
 
r 
 
 i 
 
 884 
 
 THE DESnSED EUROPEANS. 
 
 *:> 1 
 
 II 
 
 A lojirncd ])ricst, which iiuiaiis a lujiii learned in the mys- 
 teries of the Koran, indignantly walked out ol' an examina- 
 tion liall in Cairo recently, when told that the scholars were 
 there taught that the earth was round. No such heresy 
 would he allow to have place even f(>r a moment in his tlu;- 
 olo/i^y. Every other man is to a Mohammedan an inlidel ; 
 and not only an inlidel, hut a mis(;rahle and despicable inli- 
 del, at that, who deserves stoning and torture and death, 
 though tlie laws unjustly interfere in his behalf. Evcm the 
 children will gn^et the Europojins on the strec^t with the 
 exclamation: '• Va Nusrani ! " (() Kazarene). The donkey 
 boy C5ills out to his ass, as he prods him with a shai'j) stick : 
 " Go along, you son of a pig, get on, you son of alS'azarcne I " 
 
 It is said by those who have lived long in Egypt, that the 
 centuries of oppression under hard task masters, and the 
 subservi(!ncy to a false and degrading religion, hav(i not only 
 dulled the moral and intellectual faculties of the EgyptiaJis, 
 but liav(; deadcsned even their ])hysical senses sis well. A 
 traveler and residiuit for tcsn years in Egypt says that the 
 sense of ])ain is vcny small among the lower classes, that their 
 olfactory nerves are also cxtj'emely dull, that they cannot 
 distinguish oiu; piM'son from anothej* by his footsteps, and 
 not easily by his voice, and that they ncvei* hear a slight or 
 distant sound, or notice; a whisper. 
 
 In tin; interior of the ))oor houscis, whose outer walls we 
 SCO from the; train, is no furniture! worthy of the name. A 
 few mats, a sheepskin, a i)asket or two, kc^ttles for heating 
 water, and a small array of woodcm disln^s, is all that we 
 lind within the hut, and this hut is shan.'d by tlu; hens and 
 the ducks, tlu; goats, and the shcjep of the establishment, as 
 well as by tin; human inhabitants, while; the cows and bulfa- 
 locs would have no hesitation in pushing their way within 
 the doors, were they wide enough to I'cceive tiium. 
 
 HI. 
 
FOOD OF THE LOWER CLASHES. 
 
 385 
 
 Almost the only food of llio laboring chisst's is a kind of 
 broad made of sorgliuni Hour or of Indian coi-n, wlicaton 
 bread bciin;;^ eaten only by the wealthy classes. For supper, 
 however, wo are told, even tin; poorest caus(; a hot rej)ast to 
 be ])re])are(l. This usually consists of a highly salt(Ml sauce 
 niadc! of onions and buttcu-, or, in the jioorer liouses, of butter 
 and lins(;.ed oil. 
 
 Around the low table the various members of tin; family 
 sit, while each member di|)s his \)m'x\ of bread, held in his 
 fingers, into this common family sauce. In addition to this, 
 l)ufraloes' and goats' millv, and in tin; summer, cucumbers and 
 j)umpkins are the only addition. Of course, this meagn! bill 
 of faro and this wretched numner of life applies to the 
 lower classes only. Tlu'ro is an aristocracy in Kgypt, as 
 there is everywhere (!lso, that clothes itself in purph; and lino 
 linen and lives up(m the fat of the land. I>ut the poverty of 
 the masses is almost beyond description. 
 
 Poor as it is, the common ])eoj)l(! of Kgypt were ])robably 
 never so well off as they are to-day. From the tinn; of the 
 Israelites they have lived the lives of serfs. ()pj)resse(l by 
 the original I'haraoh.s, doubly oppress(!d by each succeeding 
 dynasty, their lives held cheapen" than tlui very dirt of the 
 street, hundreds of thousands of them sacriiiced in the dig- 
 ging of every great canal and tlu^ building of ovcny gigantic 
 ])yramid; it is only within th<i memory of the present gen(!r- 
 ation that attention has been calhid to the wnitched con- 
 dition of tlu; Ftsllahin, aiul that anything has been <lon(( for 
 their relief. Since the English have accpiired a dominating 
 control in Kgypt, their ben(!li(!ent rule has been felt as in 
 other Kastern lands. Onh'i- has come out of (-haos, justice 
 has 8ucc(;ede(l to tyranny, and theoretically, at least, the 
 tiller of tli(^ soil can assert his I'ights as well as tlii' |)roudest 
 descendant of the Pharaohs. As a matter of fact, there 
 
38G 
 
 DISTINGUISHING COLOR OF THE TURBAN. 
 
 
 I) 
 
 is doubtless still very much of oppression and iniquitous 
 taxation, for the work of centuries cannot be undone in a 
 moment, or the rights of a people secured by a single decree. 
 However, Egypt is on the high road to recovery. Every 
 succeeding year sees a better state of affairs in the land of 
 the Nile, and the common people, at least, should devoutly 
 give thanks for the interference of John Lull and his red- 
 coats. 
 
 But among our fellow-passengers are many others be- 
 sides the Fellahin of the Xile. There are grave Mohamme- 
 dan dignitaries. Some of these Moslems wear green 
 turbans, showing that they are descendants of the great 
 prophet himself, for no others are allowed to wear this 
 color. Tlie scholars wear a broad, evenly-folded turban of a 
 light color, and it is said that the orthodox length of a 
 believer's turban is seven times that of his head, being 
 equivalent to the whole length of his body, in order that the 
 turban may afterwards be used as the wearer's winding- 
 sheet, and that this thought may familiarize him with the 
 prospect of death. 
 
 The Copts, some of whom we also see among our fellow- 
 passengers, or among the loungers at the railway station, 
 wear a dark blue turban, and the Jews a turban of yellow, 
 since these were the colors decreed in the fourteenth cen- 
 tury. 
 
 One of the most characteristic things of any country is 
 the way in which the children are carried. As may well be 
 believed, such luxuries as baby carriages are unknown in the 
 East. In China and Japan the babies are strapped upon 
 the backs of their mothers; in India they are carried upon 
 their thighs; while in Egypt they are perched upon their 
 mother's shoulders, the little legs hanging down before and 
 behind, while they lean over on their mother's head, and 
 
CLAIMANTS FOR CHARITY 
 
 387 
 
 1 
 
 frequently go to sleep in this seemingly uncomfortable 
 position. 
 
 Of course beggars are very common. You cannot step 
 off the railway trains, or into the mosques, or turn the 
 corner of the streets, Avithout being besieged by some new 
 claimant for charity. Thin, scrawny, diseased hands are 
 thrust into your face at every turn, and your loathing re- 
 pugnance is more often excited than pity, by the horrible 
 specimens of humanity that dog every footstep. Men with 
 noses and chins eaten away by cancer, with eyes sealed and 
 corroded by countless sores, Avitli finger joints twisted and 
 gnarled by rheumatism, or with handless stumps gradually 
 being eaten away by leprosy, confront us at every turn until 
 one has to harden himself against these sights, or else flee 
 incontinently within doors, and lock himself away from all 
 his fellow-men. 
 
 Instead of politely saying good mor'^ing to the passing 
 stranger, the beggar cries out to every European, " Back- 
 sheesh, backsheesh ! " (A gift, a gift.) The wise traveler 
 responds to all such salutations, " Ma fish, ma fish ! " (I have 
 nothing for you). Or, if he wishes to vary the formula, he 
 Avill say, " Allah yatik " (May God give thee). This often 
 answers in place of backsheesh, and the beggar will go away 
 quite as contented as if he had received what he asked for. 
 
 A very common sight in the great cities, as well as in the 
 smaller towns, is the water carrier with his goat-skin of 
 water, Avhich looks like the great bloated carcass of an 
 animal carried on his back. lie still plies his trade in the 
 city of Cairo, although the city is Avell sujjplied with water 
 from the new Avater-works. fetill, he passes along the street, 
 with his heavy goat-skin on his shoulders, crying out at the 
 toj) of his lungs, '' Ya auwad Allah ! " (May God recomi)ense 
 me). Nevertheless, notwithstanding his ])ious cry, he will 
 
f|r 
 
 388 
 
 DISPENSING THE DRINK OFFEIilNG. 
 
 I 
 
 
 'I 
 
 » 
 
 be very much disaj)pointe(l if any one took a draft from his 
 goat-skin and left all the recoini)ense to Allah. 
 
 On feast days, especially the birthilays of the saints, 
 pious Moslems, desirous of securint^ an easy entrance into 
 paradise, frequently hire one of these water carriers to 
 supply all comers with water gratuitously. Then the water 
 carrier shouts in a loud tone, ''ISebil Allah ya' atshan ya 
 moyeh ! " In this way he invites all to drink freely, but he 
 is very careful to turn to his employer, who usually stands 
 
 
 I 
 
 d 
 
 WATER-CAHRTERS FILLING TIIEIU GOAT SKINS. 
 
 near him with a good deal of ostentation, saying, "God for- 
 give thy sins, oh dispenser of the drink offering, God have 
 mercy on thy parents ! " To which they Avho are partaking 
 of the water reply, "Amen. God have mercy on them and 
 on us." After numerous blessings of a similar kind have 
 been interchanged, the sakka' hands the last cup of water 
 to his employer with the Avords: "The remainder for tiie 
 liberal men. and ]iaradise for the confessor of the unity. God 
 bless thee, thou dispenser of the drink offering." 
 
 ; -4 
 
STREET CKIES OF THE ORIENT. 
 
 389 
 
 Many of the other cries that one hears in the street or in 
 the railway station are ecjually curious. The cry of the 
 orange merchant and the itinerant lish pedtUer at home are 
 quite unintelligible, though spoken in one's own language, 
 and it can easily be imagined that the street cries of Egypt are 
 quite beyond the comprehension of the passing tourist. So, 
 without shame, we must confess that we have consulted our 
 guide book at this ))oint for the interpretation of these cries. 
 
 There is a man with a thin jelly made of starch and 
 sugar. He is crying out, " O sugar for a nail, O confec- 
 tion I " which unintelligible cry indicates that he is willing 
 to barter his jelly for a nail or piece of old iron. 
 
 There is a vender of lemons, who calls out to us as we 
 pass by, " God will make them light, O lemons ! " We turn 
 to Baedeker to find that he .neans to say, in his highly 
 ligurative and poetic language, that God will help him to 
 sell his lemons, and thus make his baskets light. 
 
 Another long cry of twenty syllables rings out on the air, 
 which, being interpreted, reads as follows : " Help, O help, 
 the lupins of Embabeh are better than almonds! O how 
 sweet is the little son of the river ! " This cry, too, must be 
 interpreted, when we find that it means that the peas which 
 this vender has to sell require to be soaked in river water 
 some time before they are boiled. On this account they are 
 called " Sons of the river," antl their praises are thus sung 
 by this poetical child of the desert. 
 
 By tiiese various sights and sounds and cries of street 
 vender and beggar, we are welcomed to Cairo, the magic 
 city of the Orient, and fintl ourselves m the country of the 
 Arabian nights, the capital city of the Cailifs. 
 
I' 
 
 11 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 IN THE i.Axn OF Tin: imiamaohs — tiik most wonder. 
 
 FLL MISEUM IN THE WOHED — THE MUMMY OF PHA 
 HAOIl THE OPIMtESSOU, AND HOW THE HODY WAS DIS- 
 COVERED - EOOIvING INTO I'HAKAOH'S FACE. 
 
 1 111^ 
 
 11 
 
 1 ! 
 
 H 
 
 ■'1 
 
 m 
 
 ,13 ■,',' 
 
 il' 
 
 Marvt'lous Cairo — A Vivacious Traveler — Eyes wanted Before and Bc- 
 liinil — Fashion in a Fez — .Madam Grundy in Egypt — At the Sugar 
 Cane Bazaar — A Glimpse of the Khedive — A Boy in a Fez — The 
 Flight into Egypt — The Tree of the Virgin — How the Spider Out- 
 witted Herod — The Only Belie — Joseph's Father-in-Law — Where 
 Josejili \vas ]\Iarried — The 3[ost Wonderfid Museum in the World — 
 A Boom Full of .Mummies — Moses' Playfellow — What the Bible says 
 of Him — A !Mummy over Three Thousand Years Old — The Pharaoh 
 of the Oppression — AVhere He was Buried — The J.ocation a Mighty 
 Secret for Centuries — How the Tond) was Discovered — Unwinding 
 the Mummy — How Piiaraoh Looked — Description of the Body — Its 
 Identity Established — Where is the Pharaoh of the Exodus '! 
 
 
 E who travels around the world 
 is apt to become soniewluit sated 
 with Avoiiders before he reaches 
 Egypt. The glories of Jtipan, 
 the wonders of China, the ancient 
 magnificence of India, in some 
 degree exluiust iiis capacity for 
 sight-seeing; his mind becomes 
 o'lutted with marvelous memo- 
 ries, and it requires a place of 
 unusual interest to arouse his 
 somewhat flagging enthusiasm. 
 But Cairo is such a ])lace. Coming to it from the East 
 or the West, its strange charm is always felt. No traveler 
 can be so llant as not to acknowledge the nuigic of this mar- 
 velous citv. The strange peo})le, the curious costumes, the 
 
 ( \m ) 
 
 
! 
 
 
 fli 
 
IN THE STREETS OF CAIRO. 
 
 393 
 
 mingling of the Occident and the Orient, the unfamiliar 
 cries in the street, the characteristic crowd of all sorts and 
 conditions of men in front of each coffee house, the strange 
 manners antl customs of the bjizaar, all furnish nuiterial 
 for days of deliglit in the c}'})ital of Egyi)t. Before we go 
 
 STREET MUSICIANS A^D DAXCEHS OF CAIKO. 
 
 out of the city to see the more marvelous wonders beyond — 
 the pyramids and the sphinx, which alone of all the crea 
 tions of man have defied the ravages of centuries — let us 
 spend a little while within the city itself. 
 
 Cairo has been compared by a vivacious writer to a 
 mosaic of the most fantastic and bizarre description, in which 
 all nations, customs, and epochs are re]iresented, a living 
 museum of all imaginable and unimaginable ])hases of exist- 
 
 24 
 
 ' !l 
 
304 
 
 VKJOKOrs AIDS TO LOCOMOTION. 
 
 ence, of rofinoincnt and (logoneracv, of civiliziitioii iind l»ai'- 
 barisin, of knowledge and i«^norance, of paf^anisin, Clii-istian- 
 ity, and ^roliainniedanisni. "In the boulevards of Paris, 
 and on London hrid*;*;," says one, '' I saw hut the sluulow, 
 and at Alexandria heard only the prelude of the hahel of 
 
 Cairo, to which tlu; Uoinan or 
 Venetian carnival is ttniie and 
 coininoni)lace." 
 
 In order to enjoy tla^so 
 thin<j:s thoronghlv, one desires 
 eyes behind as well as befoi'e, 
 and the steady power of forc- 
 ing' one's way possessed by the 
 camel. However, as a camel 
 is a bulk too huge for these 
 narrow streets, we will hire a 
 donkc}', with which, and the 
 help of a vigorous and viva- 
 cious boy behind to ])ro(l him 
 Avitli a sharp stick, and twist 
 his tail occasionally (a means 
 of urging to locomotion which 
 we cannot altogether prevent, 
 although wo are sure that the 
 Society for the Prevention of 
 Cruelty to Animals would dis- 
 ap])rove), we can manage to get through the crowd. 
 
 The experience of the traveler, Goltz, is so graphically 
 tohl, and s<j true to the experience of many another traveler 
 in Cairo, that I cannot help quoting a paragraph from his 
 ple?isant description. " Having carefully leai-ned the ex- 
 pressions ' ana' a wiz humar ' (I want a donkey) and ' bikan 
 Idrsh dell ' (how many ))iasters?), I yiekled to the temptations 
 
 PRAYING IN THE 8TUEET8 OK CAIRO. 
 
THE DONKEY BOYS OF CAIRO. 
 
 396 
 
 C 
 
 liis 
 
 F 
 
 ■ns 
 
 of plunging- recklessly into the thick of Arubian life, its con- 
 versation and its (Mjiiestrianisni. I tiierefore pronounced the 
 mystic words "with the satisfaction of a child which utters 
 articulate expressions for the first time, wiien 1 was instantly 
 so i)erfectlv undei'st(jod hv a sc(jre of (hjidcev boys tliat thev 
 all offered me their donkeys at once ; though perhaps they 
 would have done so had I 
 Tiftt spolcen at all. T felt 
 like a magician who has 
 succeeded in discovering 
 an effectual fornnda of 
 conjuration. After this 
 display of my abilities, I 
 vaulted into the sachlle 
 with as much ease and 
 assurance as if Cairo liad 
 been my home. The don- 
 key boy then ])i'obably 
 asked mo ' Where to ? \ 
 whereu])on, feeling that 
 my stock of Arabic phrases 
 and cabalistic formhue was 
 nearly exhausted, 1 replied 
 in a very abbreviated 
 form : ' K u 1 1 o , K u 1 1 o ' 
 (everything), moaning 
 
 that I wanted to see everything. The donkey boy then 
 nodded to this, 'AH right, I understand,' and I now felt 
 perfect confidence in my powers of s})eech. 
 
 " My donkey now set off at a gallop and plunged into 
 the midst of a labvrinth of lanes full of riders and walkers, 
 but Avhere I was going, or how fai-, or why, I was unable to 
 tell. That, howevei\ was precisely the joke of the thing." 
 
 LATTICED WINDOWS — CAIRO. 
 
 u 
 
806 
 
 FASHIONS IN FEZZES. 
 
 }i 
 
 I ■' 
 
 It is altogetlier probiibl(% however, tliiit our wide-awake 
 traveler found himself before long in the bazaars, for the 
 donkey boys have a secret understanding with the proprie- 
 tors of these bazaars that they shall bring every unsuspect- 
 ing traveler witliin their web as soon as possible. So j)ictur- 
 esque is the sight that the traveler is usually quite ready to 
 be caught, even though it means that he will be despoiled of 
 a few francs, and have very little to show for them. 
 
 "We jiassed through one street which seemed to be very 
 largely given up to the fez makers. Here is the universal head 
 covering of the Turk in all stages of manufacture. New 
 fezzes are being shaped, and old fezzes are being re-ironed, 
 just as silk hats are put into good condition in the hat sho|)s 
 of other countries. A truncated cone of brass is the mould 
 on which the fez is built, and since scarcely any other kind 
 of head gear is used in this or any other part of the Moham- 
 medan world, it will be seen that these little factories trans- 
 act a very large business. In fact, the fez is the sign of 
 
 national subjection to the Turk, and Christians and Jews in 
 Turkish lands were originally obliged to wear it, if I mistake 
 not, on pain of being treated as heretics and traitors. In 
 these days the servitude expressed by the fez is largely for- 
 gotten, and in church and on the street, in the mosque and 
 in the parlors, in the railway train and on the house-top, 
 wherever one sees a subject of the Sultan, or anyone belong- 
 ing to a tributary nation, he will, doubtless, see his head 
 covered with the red, conical cap, with the black tassel hang- 
 ing down behind. 
 
 It would seem that there could not be much difference in 
 fezzes, that there was very little scope for the fashionable 
 hatters in this style of head gear'; but human nature is very 
 much the same in all lands, and there is a chance for Dame 
 Fashion to exercise her powers, and for Madame Grundy to 
 
A CHANCE FOR MADAMK (ilUNI)Y. 
 
 397 
 
 in 
 
 Lble 
 jery 
 inie 
 to 
 
 make her rLMiuirks even upon fozzos. To tlio unpnicticed 
 eye they all look alike, hut sonic are a little higher than 
 oiiiers, as we shall find if we look closely; some are of a 
 darker shade of red ; others come more nearly to a point at 
 t)»e top; and just as one funereal silk hat ditl'ers from an- 
 
 SUGAR-CANE AND FHIIIT SKLLF.US OF (AlliO. 
 
 Other funereal silk hat in its solemn lines of ugliness, so one- 
 fez differs from another, and the changing fashion makes the 
 fez-makers' business good. 
 
 Beyond this fez merchant is the sugar-cane bazaar, where, 
 leaning up against the sides of the building, we see stacks of 
 tall canes from which jointed sections are cut off for any 
 
r 
 
 '.i' ' 
 
 398 
 
 A PEEP AT THE KHEDIVE. 
 
 t . 
 
 |,i 
 
 passing customer. The small boy, as can be easily imagined^ 
 especially enjoys this suceulont, sugary product, and he may 
 be seen at almost any of these numberless stalls trying to 
 get the very largest ])ossible ])ii>ce of sugar-cane for the 
 smallest ])ossiblo ])iece of money. 
 
 A veiled beauty {wo Avill give her the benefit of the 
 doubt), Avith numerous strings of huge beads around her 
 neck, is waiting on the small boy, and very likely in the 
 foreground is a thick-li})ped, Avoolly-pated Nul)ian, who in 
 his rags and dirt will lie out in the sun all day long, with 
 never a thought that it is uncomfortably warm. 
 
 As we were looking in at one of these shops, we sa^v an 
 unusual comnu)tion taking ])lace in the street . bey ond us. 
 People were hurrying to slioj) doors, and scurrying from the 
 side streets to the corner of the lai'ger thoroughfare, as 
 thou*>-h some unusual si^-ht Avas about to be exhibited. AVe 
 could not understand the meaning of the commotion until 
 our donkey boy pulled us excitedly by the sleeve, and, point- 
 ing to the street, said something about the Khedive, Avhich 
 gave us to understand that this youthful successor of tho 
 Pharaohs Avas about to pass. 
 
 Our surmise concerning th>) donkey boy's information 
 Avas correct, and very soon four or five soldiers dashed by, 
 followed by an oi)en carriage draAvn by a span of splendid 
 liorses. In this carriage Avere two men of very oi'diiuirv ap- 
 pearance, one much older than the other. Both Avoi'e I'ed 
 fez/,es of the ordinary type, but otherwise Avere dressed as 
 European gentlemen. The younger of these two was the 
 boyish Khedive of Egyj)t, the ruler whose predecessoi's live 
 tiiousand years ago built the ])yramids and dug the ancient 
 canals, and erected the most magnilicent monuments which 
 the Avorld has CA'er seen, monuments Avhich even thiie and 
 vandalism cannot destroy. 
 
A STROLL THROUGH THE BAZAARS. 
 
 399 
 
 red 
 
 as 
 
 Lhe 
 
 live 
 
 >nt 
 lich 
 Ind 
 
 Goini^ oil I'l'oiii this bazaar, IVoiii whose doorway we liave 
 ■watched tlie passiii<^ of the Khedive, we soon enter a ]>ert'ect 
 hibyrinth of ])assag'eways, lined on every hand "with little 
 stalls "when^ every imaginable article, and a jL^ood many 
 things "which until recently have been unimaginable to us, 
 are sold: brass ware and silver lilagree work, andjer and 
 sandal wood, iish and vegetables, 
 fruit and statuettes, donkey bells 
 and evil-eye beads for the camels, 
 cakes and sugar for the boys, fod- 
 der for the donkeys, saddles for 
 the lun'ses, veils for the women, 
 earrings vHud gewgaws for the 
 Arabs of the deseit, and every- 
 thing which Eastern and AV^estern 
 ideas have rendered necessary, 
 
 ]\[any of these bazaars opeii out 
 of passageways that are entirely 
 covered overhead, and ai-e dai'k, 
 gloomy recesses into which a ray 
 of sunlight never struggles. Still, 
 dirty and dark, vermin-infested 
 and beggar-haunted as they are, 
 they are extrcMiiely interesting, 
 and in their ma/.es any one who 
 delights in the study of human nature can lose hiniseil' for 
 days at a time, but never lose liis interest in the strange 
 sights ai'ound him. 
 
 liefore leaving this fascinating city there ai-e three ex- 
 cursi<ms which Ave must make, — cme to Ihlio])olis where 
 Joseph lived, another to the marvelous museums of Bulak, 
 the most nMuarkable depository of antiipiities in all the 
 world, and the thii'd to the pyramids of (Jizeh. 
 
 SHOE ri;i)i)i,KH ov caiho. 
 
400 
 
 TRADITIONS OF THE PAST. 
 
 We can visit IIelio})olis in a single luilf day. A jileasant 
 road, winding oftentimes between gardens of oranges and 
 lemons, and shaded nmcli of the way by these fragrant 
 trees, takes us to this famous City of th<^ Sun. On the way 
 we pass the village of Matariyeh. Here is the tree and well 
 of the Virgin. My readers, who are acquainted with their 
 New Testameni history, will remember that the mother of 
 our Lord, to escape the cruel persecutions of Ilerod, fled into 
 Egypt with the child Jesus and her husband Joseph. Tiie 
 pathetic picture Avhich is so common in Christian art of the 
 Flight into Egypt, has done scarcely less than the Bible 
 itself to impress this scene uj)on the imagination of the 
 world. Those who have once seen this })icture, or any of 
 the innumerable copies of it, will never forget the sweet 
 face of the Virgin Mother, as she rides along the dusty road, 
 bearing the infant Jesus in her arms, while the dignified and 
 manly Joseph walks by their side. 
 
 A modern traveler has said that if Jose})!! and Mary 
 were modern Bedouins, Joseph would be riding the ass, 
 while Mary would walk and carry the child. But we are 
 glad to believe that Joseph and Mary had very little in 
 common with the modern Bedouin, and that the western 
 ideas of respect to motherhood and womankind prevailed in 
 that journey undertaken so long ago to the land of Egypt. 
 In this little village to which we have come, tradition says 
 the virgin and child once rested, and the tree under which 
 she rested — a large, spreading sycamore, with decayed 
 trunk and gnarled limbs — is still pointed out. Of course, 
 even the most credulous know that this i)articular tree must 
 have been planted many centuries after tiiat famous journey 
 was undertaken ; but it is very cei'tain that a nu)st ancient 
 tradition connects the Holy Family with this very spot, and 
 though it is known that this tree was not ])lanted until 1(172, 
 
AN INTERESTING TREE AND ITS STORY. 
 
 401 
 
 and that its predecessor died in 1005, it is not by any mejins 
 impossible that near this spot came the Blessed Mother and 
 the Holy Child, with their stalwart protector, from the land 
 of Judea. 
 
 A BEDOUIN FAMILY ON A JOI'UNKY. 
 
 ?2, 
 
 The water for the garden in which the tree is ])lanted 
 comes from a shallow pool near by, and, as we visited tlie 
 spot, a blindfolded ox was pacing his weary round, raising 
 the water by a series of endless buckets, which poured 
 their contents into the ditches that irrigated the garden. 
 Unhke most of the water in this vicinity, which is brackish, 
 
 I 'II 
 
 Ml 
 
402 
 
 A SPIDERS VEIL AND WHAT IT CONCEALED. 
 
 the water from this reservoir is sweet and good for drinking; 
 and before we left the garden Ave took a draught from tlie 
 same pool at which the Virgin and her husband may have 
 quenched their thirst eighteen hundred years ago. 
 
 Tradition has been bus}'- with this place, as with every 
 other that is connected Avith the Holy Family, and one 
 pretty legend tells us that Avhen ])ersecution was rife, the 
 mother concealed herself with the child in the hollow trunk 
 of the tree which stood on this spot, and that a spider Avove 
 its AA^eb so closely across the opening that no lynx-eyed per- 
 secutor could see the mother and the child beneath the 
 spider's veil. 
 
 Half a mile beyond this garden Ave see all that is left of 
 the famous Heliopolis, or the City of the Sun. This is the 
 place Avhich the Bible calls On, and here Ave are told that 
 Pharaoh gave Joseph the daughter of a priest of Heliopolis 
 in marriage. In early days the Temple of me Sun at Helio- 
 polis Avas the most famous sacred })lace in all Egypt, and Avas 
 the scene of the most notable ceremonies connected with the 
 Avorship of the sun. No less than 12,013 priests and officials 
 Avere connected Avith this temple, it is said. As one thinks 
 of the former magnificence of this spot and contrasts it Avitli 
 its present decay, he realizes Iioav absolutely Time destrovs 
 the mightiest Avorks of man. 
 
 Few places have been so utterly Aviped out of existence. 
 All that is left now of this famous temple is a single 
 obelisk, and even that is not impressive, for it is half 
 buried in the accumulated mud and soil of the centuries, 
 which have been deposited around it. On tAVo sides the bees 
 have built their cells in the dee]>cut hieroglyphics, so as to 
 fill them up completely and obliterate the characters, and 
 the only signs of life about this temple, Avhich once swarmed 
 Avith thousands of priests and myriads of Avorshipers, are tAvo 
 
THE RAVAGES OF TIME. 
 
 403 
 
 half 
 |i'ios, 
 
 )ees 
 IS to 
 
 and 
 Imecl 
 
 two 
 
 or three blind, lame, halt, and loathsome beggars, who limp 
 after one at every step, and hold out hlthy hands, distorted 
 and twisted by disease, for backsheesh. 
 
 Companion obelisks to the one which stands here have 
 been taken by successive con(i[uerors of Egy})t to grace their 
 capitals, and this alone is left to tell the tale of the glory of 
 Heliopolis. On this obelisk, doubtless, Joseph looked; 
 beneath the shadows of this monument and its tall com- 
 panions he led the Mother and Child. To the temple, Avhich 
 stood on this spot in its more than royal magniticence, came 
 the Pharaohs, one after another. Every Pharaoh considered 
 himself the human embodiment of the sun, and it is only 
 natural that he should have brought offerings worthy of a 
 Pharaoh to this magnificent temple, to increase with every 
 reign of every dynasty its growing magnificence. 
 
 There is to-day in the IS'ational Museum at London a 
 papyrus which gives a marvelous list of presents donated to 
 this temple by Rameses III alone. But now, for more than 
 two thousand years, Heliopolis has been but a name. Even 
 the famous university Avliich once flourished here, though es- 
 tablished long after the temple had ceased to exist, and only a 
 hundred years before tlie time of Christ, is utterly obliterated. 
 Nations have come and gone, kingdoms have waxed and 
 waned, steadily the star of empire has moved westward, but 
 this one lonely monolith remains, half imbedded in mud, 
 not even respected by the bees themselves, resorted to by 
 only a few tourists, on whom beggars fatten — this only 
 remains of the magnificent City of the Sun. 
 
 Cm* next excursion shall be to the Bulak Museum. As a 
 rule, the traveler finds a museum a tiresome weariness to the 
 flesh, unless he is engaged in some particular branch of 
 research and desires to make use of the treasures wliich the 
 museum contains, in his particular investigations ; he is apt 
 
404 
 
 A WONDEKKl'L MUSEUM. 
 
 ! I 
 
 to wandisr thn)U<^li tho (!iull(!ss corridoi's in u stupid and por- 
 functory way, casting a glance to the ri<^lit and the left, lor 
 the sake of i)orfoniiin<^ liis duty, antl Ix^inn- ;il)lc to say that 
 he has "(h)iie" tht; iiuis(unM. Kv(^ and brain, as well as feet 
 become tired, the confined atnios])here at last becomes unen- 
 durable, and one vows that he will see no more curiosities 
 " while tlie world standeth," if they are to be b(ju<,dit at the 
 expense of such utter weariness and ennui. Then, as one 
 
 IN TIIK lU'l.AK MIHKl'M. 
 
 cmerf^i^s into the ojien air, he has a dim remem])rance of a 
 tomb hei'c! and a scarabeus there, of a collection of arrow 
 heads over yonder, of a case of butterHies on the north wall, 
 and another of ancient coins on the south wall. JJut where 
 the butterflies first flew, or Avhere the coins ]mssed current, 
 or who occu])ied tiie tombs, or at whom the arrow heads 
 were pointed — of these details he is apt to liave a very 
 mixed and hazy idea. 
 
 J^ut the museum at liulidv is not an ordinary museum by 
 any means. The most wearied and travel-hardened tourist 
 
ANCIENT TREASURES, ANTiyUITIEH, AND MUMMIES. 405 
 
 t, 
 
 S 
 
 >y 
 
 St 
 
 finds here enough treasures to keep his mind alert, and to 
 dri\e the weai'iness from his brain ami his leet. 
 
 We did not linger, however, for numy mimites over the 
 bronze cats and jackals, the ibises in co|)[)er, or the shrine of 
 Osiris. We did not take any great joy in the sight of the 
 green porcelain deity in the shafje of a distorted ciiild stand- 
 ing upon two crocodiles and sti-angling two snakes, neither 
 did we go into raptures over the dog-faced ape, the emi)lem 
 of the god Thoth, or even over tiie golden diadems and 
 chains and alabaster vases, and granite hawks with human 
 heads, for we were anxious to s])en(l all the time at our dis- 
 posal in the apartment of the royal mummies. 
 
 Until within the memory of many of my youngest read- 
 ers, the existence of these mummies Avas not suspected by 
 the civilized world. The Arabs, to be sure, knew of them, 
 but as the royal tombs furnished them with a perfect mine 
 of curios, seals, coins, statuettes, and rolls of ])apyrus, they 
 carefully concealed their knowledge fi'om investigating trav. 
 elers. At last the anti(juities were found, and trciastu'c^s 
 sucii as the world had not believed to exist, were unearthed. 
 As we enter the museum we see several mummies and colHns 
 l)elonging to ])riests and kings and princes of the twenty-lirst 
 dynasty, liut this was an inglorious dynasty, so history 
 tells us. The })riest-ldngs were unable to enforce their 
 claims, antl they are ])articularly interesting to us only on 
 account of their connecticm with Solomon ; for it was with 
 this dynasty that Solomon nuide allinity, and took Plia- 
 raoh's daughter and brought her into the city of David. 
 It was a Pharaoh of this dynasty, too, that took (iezer 
 and burned it with fire, and slew tlu? C^anaanites tliat 
 dwelt in the city, and gave it for a present to his daughter, 
 Solomon's wife, as we are told in the ninth chajjtiM' of 
 I Kings. In the time of these Pharaohs, Solomon had 
 
406 
 
 A ROOM FULL OF ROYAL MUMMIES. 
 
 pi ; 
 
 ll': 
 
 
 lit 
 
 ;i:' 
 
 horses and linen yarn brought out of Egypt. We are told 
 that an Eg'yi)tian chariot in those days cost 65U shekels of 
 silver, and a liorse 150 shekels. 
 
 As we pass on further into tliis most interesting funereal 
 apartment, we find priests and kings of older dynasties. 
 Here is the coffin of Thothmes III. Tliese were more glori- 
 ous Pharaohs than tlieir successors. They flourished more 
 than 3,500 years ago, extended tlieir conquests as far as the 
 Tigris, exacted heavy triljutes from the nations whom they 
 van(piished, and embellished Thebes, their capital, with mag- 
 nificent edifices. 
 
 But most interesting of all in this marvelous room are 
 the coffins and the mummies of Sethi I and his son Eameses 
 II, for these are the '' Pharaohs of the Oppression," whose 
 cruel story is told to us so graphically in the Book of Exodus. 
 
 Sethi, it is known, caused his son Barneses to be educated 
 with the other young Egyptian nobles, and it is altogether 
 probable that one of these Egyptian nobles was Moses, the 
 great Lawgiver of Israel. How Pharaoh's daughter found 
 him as she went to bathe in the Nile ; how, by the sister's 
 gentle ruse, the child's mother Avas called to be the nurse, 
 we all remember. Who has not felt glad Avhen the princess 
 said to the anxious mother : " Take this child and nurse it for 
 me, and I will give thee thy wages." Never was such a 
 congenial task given to a nurse before ! " And the woman 
 took the child and nursed it, and the child grew, and she 
 brought him unto Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her 
 son, and she called his name Moses, and she said : Because I 
 drew him out of the water." Now, after reading this brief 
 Biblical story, let us turn to our museum again. Look into 
 that glass case. There, in that royal gilded coffin, lies a 
 shrunken, withered mummy. The lower limbs are yet 
 wrapped in the cerements of the grave, but the skull is ex- 
 
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MUMMY OP MOSES S PLAYFELLOW. 
 
 409 
 
 
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 posetl uiul still ])ci'foct. Tho loJig, hooked, lloinan nose, tlio 
 deep-sunken eyeballs, the lieavv, scjuare jaw, tell of the war- 
 rior and the tyrant. There is Moses's playfellow. 
 
 For more than three thousand years 
 he lav silent in the earth, until at last the 
 spade of the antitpiarian broke int(j his 
 dark resting place, his cotHn was opened, 
 and he was found to tell us with his (inn, 
 determined lips, the story of the awful 
 oppression and tyranny which he inaugu- 
 rated so many centuries ago. 
 
 ' " Ilameses ir, the " Pharaoh of the Op- 
 pression," died about 3,3t>U years ago. His 
 body was embalmed, placed on board the 
 royal barge, and Hoated up the Nile to 
 the Theban City of the Dead, where it 
 was laid to rest in the great sarcophagus 
 which had been cut from the limestone 
 of Biban-el-]V[ulouk. The location of the 
 tomb was well known then, because it had 
 been the habit of the monarch to visit 
 it frequently during its excavation, but ''^^ 
 for centuries the exact spot remained a 
 mighty secret. 
 
 '' According to custom, after the burial 
 the doorway to the tomb was walled up 
 and so disguised bv rocks and sand as ^^^^ i.knotii view 
 
 . . " OF MIMMY OK KING 
 
 to make it impossible for any l)ut the pnAKAou.uAMESEsii. 
 priests to discover its whereabouts. It (The Phamoh of the op- 
 was not until 188 1 that the real hiding i"*^^^^'"") 
 
 place was discovered. For a number of years the officials of 
 the Bulak Museum had seen funeral offerinffs, and other 
 antiquities, brought from Thebes by returning tourists. Avhich 
 
 ■ Edward L. WiliJon in Tho Century. 
 
 ViHrJ 
 
 % 
 
410 
 
 FINDING THE MUMMY OF PHARAOH. 
 
 I 
 
 they knew belonged to the dynasty of Rameses II, of his 
 father Sethi I, and of liis grandfather llameses I, The 
 clear-headed officials argued that the mummies of those 
 royal personages must have been discovered by some one. 
 The Director-General of the Museum at once organized a 
 detective force to helj) him discover the hiding-place. 
 
 '' Arrest after arrest was made among the natives, and 
 the bastinado was applied to many a calloused sole which 
 had never felt either shoe or sandal. Early in 1881 circum- 
 stantial evidence pointed to an Arab named Ahmed Abd-er- 
 Kasoul as the one who knew more than he would tell. He 
 was Arrested and confined in prison for many months, mean- 
 time suffering the bastinado repeatedly. Finally his brother 
 made a clean breast of the whole affair, and was induced to 
 conduct the Curator of the Museum to the liiding-place so 
 long looked for. 
 
 " Up the slope of a western mountain a huge isolated 
 rock was found. Behind this a spot was reached Avhere the 
 stones appeared to have been arranged 'by hand' rather 
 than scattered by some upheaval of nature. Arabs were 
 employed to remove the loose stones from the well into 
 which they had been throAvn. "When the bottom of the 
 shaft was reached a subterranean passage was found which 
 ran westward about twentv-four feet, and then turned 
 directly northward, continuing into the heart of the moun- 
 tain for about two hundred feet. This passage terminated 
 in a mortuary chamber about thirteen b}' twenty-three feet 
 in extent, and six feet in height. 
 
 "There was found the mummy of Rameses II, the 
 Pharaoh of tlie Oppression, and his identity was subse- 
 cjuently established beyond question. In the same chamber 
 were found nearly forty other mummies of kings, queens, 
 princes, and priests. 
 
 _ 
 
HOW PHARAOH LOOKED. 
 
 411 
 
 ited 
 feet 
 
 the 
 
 Ibse- 
 
 iber 
 
 iens, 
 
 
 "The followin*,^ June the mtmiiiiy of Uiiineses II was 
 releiised from its baiKhiges. Alter the uiifohling of tlie 
 niinnmy the merciless cjimera was turned u])on it, and in 
 that sort of picture, which is notorious for never thittering 
 nor ever detracting, 
 we have a ])roof of 
 the very oi'iginal 
 himself, enabling all 
 to 'see how Pha- 
 raoh looked.' No 
 doubt exists about 
 the genuineness of 
 the mummy, for, in 
 black ink, written 
 ii])on the mummy 
 case by the high 
 priest and King Pin- 
 otem, is the record 
 testifying to the 
 identity of the royal 
 contents. The cov- 
 erings were all re- 
 moved by the care- 
 ful hands of one of wheue the mummy ok imiakaoh was found. 
 
 , ,, . ^, ENTUANCE TO THE TOMI!. 
 
 tlie professors of the 
 
 Bulak Museum, in the presence of the Khedive and other 
 
 distinguished persons." 
 
 The head is long, and small in proportion to the body. 
 The top of the skull is quite bare. On the temj)les there are a 
 few sparse hairs, but at the poll the hair is quite thick. White 
 at the time of death, they have been dyed a light yellow l)y 
 the spices used in embalming. The forehead is low and nar- 
 row ; the eyebrows are thick and white ; the eyes are small 
 
412 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE MUMMY OF I'lIARAOH. 
 
 I; :.! 
 
 i-Ai. 
 
 and close tor^-otlier; the nose is lon<2;, iircihcd, iind thin, and 
 sli^'litly cruslied at tlie tip l)y tlie ])i'essui'o of the handagvs. 
 The temi)Irs are sunken; the cheek-bones very proniiiient; 
 the ears round, and ])ierced like thos(> of a woman foi' the 
 
 PROFILE OP KINO PnATlAOII, RAMESE8 11. 
 (Tlie rharaoh of the OpprcBgioii.) 
 
 wearing of ear-rings. The jaw-l^one is massive and strong ; 
 the mouth small, and when first exposed Avas full of some 
 kind of black paste. This paste being partly removed dis- 
 closed much worn teeth', which, however, are white and 
 well preserved. The mustache and beard are white and 
 thin. They seem to have been kept shaven during life, but 
 
LOOKING INTO PIIARAOIl's FACE. 
 
 413 
 
 lome 
 (Hs- 
 and 
 and 
 but 
 
 were probably allowed to o^vow dnriiig- the king's last illness, 
 or they may have grown after death. The skin is of earthy 
 brown, spotted with l)lack. Finally, it may be said, the face 
 of tlie mummy gives a fail' idea of the face of the living 
 king. Tiie expression is nnintellectual, ])(M'hai)s slightly 
 
 FRONT VIKW OK niAKAOn TMMKnTATKT-Y AFTEn rNWIM)IN(! THK MUMMY. 
 
 (From a spucial photograph.) 
 
 animal ; but even under the somewhat grotesque disguise of 
 mummilication, there is phunly to be seen an air of sovereign 
 majesty, of resolve, and of pride. The rest of the body is as 
 well preserved as the head ; but, in consequence of the i-educ- 
 tion of the tissues, its external aspect is less lifelike. The 
 neck is no thicker than the vertebral column. The chest is 
 broad ; the shoulders are square; the arms are crossed upon 
 
414 
 
 A WICKED RECORD. 
 
 % 
 
 ■ !• 
 
 i: 
 
 
 the breast ; the hands are small and dyed Avith henna. The 
 legs and thighs are fleshless; the feet are long, slender, 
 somewhat flat-soled, and dyed, like the hands, M'ith henna. 
 The corpse is that of an old man, but of a vigorous and 
 robust old man. We know, indeed, that Rameses II reigned 
 for sixt^'^-seven years, and that he must have been nearly one 
 hundred years old when he died. 
 
 He had his good points, to be sure, had Rameses the 
 Great. He exhibited great zeal as a builder, as a patron of 
 art and of sciences, and erected monuments of victory in 
 various parts of Egypt. But his monuments have all crum- 
 bled, his buildings are leveled with the ground, the arts and 
 sciences which he encouraged are outgrown, and have been 
 succeeded by nobler arts and sciences. But the one thing 
 that he will be known for in all the future history of the 
 world, is that which is recorded of him in the first Book of 
 Exodus. Surely, it is true, in this case, that " the evil that 
 men do lives after them, while the good is oft interred with 
 their bones." 
 
 " And the children of Israel Avere *niitful, and increased 
 abundantly, and multiplied, and Avaxed exceeding mighty ; 
 and the land Avas filled Avith them. 
 
 " XoAV there arose up a ncAv king over Egypt, Avhich 
 knew not Joseph. 
 
 " And he said unto his people. Behold, the people of the 
 children of Israel are more and mightier than Ave ; 
 
 " Come on, let us deal Avisely Avith them, lest they multi- 
 ply, and it come to pass, that, Avhen there falleth out any 
 Avar, they join also unto our enemies, and fight against us, 
 and so get them up out of the land. 
 
 " Therefore, they did set oA^er them task-masters to afflict 
 them Avith their burdens. And they built for Pharaoh 
 treasure cities, Pithora and Raamses. 
 
HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN. 
 
 415 
 
 " But the more they afflicted them, the more they multi- 
 plied and grew. And they grieved because of the children 
 of Israel. 
 
 " And the Egyptians made the children of Israel to serve 
 with rigour ; 
 
 " And they made their lives bitter with hard bondage, in 
 mortar, and in brick, and in all manner of service in the 
 field ; all their service, wherein they made them serve, was 
 with rigour. 
 
 the 
 
 Lilti- 
 
 |any 
 
 us, 
 
 lict 
 koli 
 
 " And Pharaoh charged all his people, saying, Every son 
 that is born ye shall cast into the river, and every daughter 
 ye shall save alive." 
 
 A sad record, surely, is this for any man to leave after 
 him, and yet we can believe it of this old Pharaoh, as we 
 see him grim and determined even in death, lying in his 
 coffin, which is exposed to the curious gaze of every sight- 
 seer. None so poor now as to do reverence to this ancient 
 ruler of the world. He, at whose beck kings rallied to his 
 standards, or concluded peace at his command, lies there, a 
 mere spectacle for every curiosity monger. The poorest 
 vagabond of the realm can now criticise his hooked nose and 
 his retreating forehead, and his long and scrawny neck with 
 impunity. The one on whom kings dared not look without 
 trembling, is now known only as a persecutor and oppressor, 
 who is hated and despised by Jews and Christians alike, 
 though he has lain in his coffin for more than three thou- 
 sand years. The old rule is forgotten, and no good and 
 only evil is spoken of this man who has been so long dead. 
 
 Near by is the coffin and the mummy of his father, Sethi 
 I, who also shows in the very contour of his head that he 
 was a Pharaoh born to rule. And here is the scriptural 
 account of the end of this man whose mummy we see before 
 
F 
 
 41G 
 
 WHERE IS THE PHARAOH OF THE EXODUS ? 
 
 US. " And it came to pass in the process of time, that the 
 king of Egypt died, and the children of Israel sighed by rea- 
 son of the bondage, and they cried, and their cry came up 
 unto God, and God heard their groaning, and God remem- 
 bered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with 
 Jacob, and God looked upon tlie children of Israel, and God 
 had respect unto them." 
 
 "We know the tragic history that followed, the groanings, 
 the oi)pression, the plague, the deliverance, the passage of 
 the Red Sea, the overwhelming of Pharaoh and his chariots 
 in the waves. The Pharaoh of the oppression lies before us 
 in the museum of Bulak ; but the Pharaoh of the Exodus» 
 whom the Bible declares found a watery grave under the 
 Eed Sea's waves, has never been found among the royal 
 mummies of Egypt. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ON THE BANKS OF THE NILE — OL'R CLDIB TO THE TOP 
 OF THE GREAT PYRAMIDS — BESET BY ARABS — AMUS- 
 ING ADVENTURES AND EXPERIENCES. 
 
 An Ancient Proverb — Our First View of tlic Pyramids — Man-made 
 jMountains — Monuments Wiiicli Never Disappoint tlie Traveler — 
 Could Tlie^' be Built To-daj' ? — A Blow at the Conceit of the Nine- 
 teenth Century — Comfort for the Optimist — Why the Pyramids were 
 Built and How — The Tombs of the Pharaohs — A Small Pyramid for a 
 Short Reign — A ]\Iore Intimate Acquaintance — The Road to Cheops 
 — " Matish Backsheesh " — Unnecessary Attention — The Comanches of 
 the Desert — An Appeal lo the Sheik — Getting Up-stairs — How the 
 Stout Lady Reached the Top — Desolation, Dearth, and Death — Life- 
 giving Father Nile — Beautiful Cairo — An Ancient Story of the Pyra- 
 mitls — Avaricious Arabs — Destroying the Pyramids — Looking Down 
 on Forty Centuries — A Ride on a Camel to the Sphinx. 
 
 iVERYTIIlNG fears time, btit time 
 feurs tlie pyramids," is an old 
 Arabian proverb that has been 
 curi'ent in the Land of the Pyra- 
 mids for more than seven hundred 
 years. Our fh'st glim]).se of these 
 time-feared monuments was from 
 the raihva}^ train as we a]i- 
 proached Cairo. "We knew that 
 somewhere off in the distance, 
 out of the sandy desert, tirose 
 these marvelous monuments of a 
 ])ast age, and for some time before the domes and minarets 
 of Cairo a])peared in sight, we strained our eyes to get the 
 iirst glimpse of them. 
 
 At length a bend in tlie road brought them into view, 
 
 (417) 
 
418 
 
 ONE OF THE WONDERS OF THE WORLD. 
 
 somewhat dwarfed bv distance, to be sure, but unmistakablv 
 the pyramids of picture-book and fancy, of boyhood's 
 dream and manhood's anticipation. They are so unique and 
 unapproached by any other species of architecture, so easily 
 represented, and so readily compassed by the imagination 
 that one thinks he is seeing old, familiar friends, as they first 
 loom up on the horizon. The pyramids of the old geogra- 
 phies and of more modern photographs are here before us, 
 in solid, substantial stone. They look as we thought they 
 looked. They do not surprise us by their vastness on the 
 one hand, nor disappoint us by their insignificance as com- 
 pared with previous anticipations, on the other. 
 
 For almost every other famous sight one is somewhat 
 unprepared, however familiar he may be with pictures and 
 descriptions and measurements. The Taj Mahal of India, 
 for instance, goes beyond the greatest expectations. Xo 
 photograph can tell the traveler of its graceful lines, its 
 aspiring minarets, its dazzling white marble, or its incrusta- 
 tions of precious stones. The temples of Southern India ai'e 
 only feebly portrayed by photographs. Of the Colosseum, 
 one can get but a sectional and partial view, and one has to 
 stand within its vast sweep of stones to appreciate its magni- 
 tude. Saint Peter's disappoints most travelers by its seem- 
 ing want of size, as compared with his great expectations. 
 But for the pyramids one is Avell prepared. Not that they 
 do not grow on the imagination. Almost every stupendous 
 work of architecture does thus improve upon acquaintance. 
 The mind must have some time to adjust itself to its propor- 
 tions, and the longer one gazes upon the pyramids, and the 
 nearer he approaches their towering bulk, the more im- 
 ])ressetl is he with these Avonders of the ancient and modern 
 world, the more he marvels how they could possibly be 
 built in rude ages when labor-saving machinery was compar- 
 
TIME-DEFYING MONUMENTS. 
 
 419 
 
 atively unknown, the more he begins to suspect that, after 
 all, these ages which could have built the pyramids were not 
 so rude as his modern conceit is prone to sup])ose. 
 
 It is douljtful if they could be Ijuilt to-day with all the 
 appliances that modern invention has rendered familiar, 
 Avith the aid of steam and electricity, and every contrivance 
 which the ingenuity of four thousand years has been able to 
 supply. It is douljtful if those vast blocks of stone could be 
 
 THE GREAT PYRAMIDS. 
 
 quarried or transported, or raised to their present position, 
 or laid so accurately, by any master mason of to-day. 
 
 When we think that tlie building of the pyramids was 
 only an index to the civilization of the centuries that saw 
 them erected, our inflated notions concerning the importance 
 of the nineteenth century in the roll of the ages grows 
 somewhat smaller. The pyramids are like isolated peaks in 
 some vast sea, which still remain above the surface to tell of 
 the mighty continents which have Ijeen submerged. Every- 
 thing perishable has been s\ve\)t away, cities and farms, 
 canals and roadwavs, the accumulations of centuries of 
 
420 
 
 WHY WERE THE PYRAMIDS BUILT ? 
 
 wealth, tlie arts and sciences of the ages hjng gone by, are 
 all buried under the sand of the desert. The pyramids 
 alone remain to tell us what the world then was, and to 
 dwarf the ]iigmy products and enterprises of the present 
 day. Surely there is a law of degeneration, as well as a law 
 of evolution at work in the world. In some respects the 
 world is going backward instead of forward. 
 
 In some particulars, Ave cannot equal our great-great- 
 great ancestors Avho flourished in Moses' time, but the op- 
 timist may well believe, — and there is nothing to dispel the 
 pleasant thought, — that if in material grandeur we cannot 
 compete with the ages of the past, in moral and spiritual 
 matters this old world never attained such an eminence as 
 since the time Avhen the light from the face of Christ shone 
 upon her. If we build no pyramids in these days, Ave do 
 build hospitals and colleges and orj^han asylums on a vast 
 scale. If there are no magnificent palaces of the Pharaohs, 
 there are innumerable temples consecrated to the relief of 
 suffering and the uplifting of humanity. If we can erect no 
 Cheops in these days, it is at least true that Ave do not sacri- 
 fice the lives of a hundred thousand peasants every year in 
 the erection of a senseless funereal monument, built to 
 gratify individual vanity; for it is very certain that the pyr- 
 amids of Gizeh, and all the other pyramids that have made 
 the land of Egypt famous, are simply funereal monuments, 
 huge tombs for the kings ; and, though some fanciful Avi'iters 
 liaA^e professed to find in them the embodiment of all the 
 sciences, the standards of Aveights and measures, and even a 
 })rophecy of the birth of Christ, these theories have very 
 little Aveight among scholars of the present day, and it is 
 generally believed that these huge monuments Avere sim])ly 
 receptacles for the mummies of the Pharaohs Avho built 
 them. 
 
MISERY VENDERS AND VILE IMPOSTORS. 
 
 421 
 
 ri- 
 
 e 
 
 s, 
 
 rs 
 
 le 
 
 a 
 
 rv 
 
 IS 
 
 ilt 
 
 Each succeedin*^ Pliaraoli be;|^an work on his own tomb 
 as soon as he ascended the throne. At first the monument 
 Avliicli lie built over his sarcoplmgus Avas com])aratively 
 small, and if he died after a short reign, it remained a small 
 and insignificant pyramid. This accounts for the smaller 
 pyramids which dot tlie desert. If, however, liis reign was 
 longer, he added one course of stone to another, building 
 always from the outside, and in such a way that the pyr- 
 amid Avould be complete in itself Avhenever he might die, 
 after the course of stone which had been begun was finished. 
 Every succeeding incrustation of stones was, of course, a 
 larger and more stupendous undertaking than the last, and 
 it was only the Pharaohs who lived to the greatest age who 
 could construct such monuments as Cheops and Cephron. 
 
 But we have lingered quite too long already in the dis- 
 tance. It can be imagined that an excursion to the pyra- 
 mids was one of the very first pleasures that we enjoyed in 
 Cairo. "VVe could not see those giants looming up in the 
 distance Avithout desiring more intimate acquaintance, and 
 so, taking a carriage at our hotel, a drive of an hour and 
 a half brought us to their very base. "\Ve had heard har- 
 roAving tales of the inn)ortunate beggar, and so Ave had 
 practiced, before leaving the hotel, and on the route, the im- 
 l^ortant ])lirase, " Mafish backsheesh," Avhich Avas all Ave knew^ 
 and all Ave needed to know of Arabic. At the same time we 
 steeled our hearts against all kinds of miseries and persistent 
 pleadings, comforting ourselves in our hardheartedness Avitli 
 the fact that all our friends and all our guide books told us 
 that these misery-venders Avere mostly imposters, and that it 
 Avas the most mistaken kind of charitv to heed their im- 
 portunate cries ; that some of them Avere very Avell-to-do in 
 the Avorld, and were better able to give backsheesh to their 
 victims than Avas the aA'erage traveler to give it to them. 
 
422 
 
 NEARING THE PYRAMIDS. 
 
 
 The road from Cairo to Cheops is, for this desert land, a 
 very pleasant road, being broad and well made, and lined 
 with trees on either side. The pyramids occupy a low 
 plateau about fifteen hundred yards square ; and a con- 
 siderable ascent leads from the level road to the foot of the 
 great pyramid. 
 
 BY THE ROADSIDE IN EGYPT. 
 
 .t3i^«#r{:Sf^ 
 
 Long before we reach this spot, hoAvever, our troubles 
 with the Bedouins begin. For rods they run along beside 
 the carriage, some on two legs, some on one, and some on 
 three or four ; for crutches and canes are part of the stock in 
 trade of these beggars, with all kinds of deformities and 
 diseases — the more disgusting and loathsome, the larger is 
 
 o 
 
BESET BY BEGGARS. 
 
 4:>3 
 
 [s 
 
 their capital. In some i)laces they even strew unnec(^ssary 
 sand and gravel before the horses for the alleged |)ur})ose of 
 making it more easy for them to ascend the hill, but for the 
 real purpose of having a ])retext for imiking some exorbitant 
 demand on the traveler. However, we are able to resist 
 these importunities, and it is only when the carriage actually 
 stops, and we are obliged to dismount, that matters become 
 serious. Here we are surrounded a])]>ai'ently by all the 
 Bedouins of the desert, congregated together for the purpose 
 of boosting our precious selves u]) the pyramid. They sur- 
 round us like a tribe of hostile Conuinches on the war-})ath. 
 They gesticulate and scream, seize us by the arm, and 
 apparently intend to capture us by nuiin force, while they 
 try to frighten off all other clainuints for the booty. 
 
 At length, however, our manhood asserts itself, and our 
 womanhood too, for that matter — for it must be remem- 
 bered that there is a feminine pilgrim in this party — and 
 summoning all our Arabic, in the most impressive tones we 
 can summon, and with gestures that are meant to be as 
 emphatic as their own, we cry out, " Iscut walla mafish 
 backsheesh ! " (Be quiet or you shall have no fee.) AVhat we 
 lack in accuracy of pronunciation, Ave make up in vigor of 
 expression. At any rate the Arabs seem to understand us, 
 and, falling back a step or two, there is a temporary lull in 
 the babel. "We then appeal to the old Sheik, who stands in 
 the thick of the crowd, a venerable, white-bearded old man, 
 trying to bring some little order out of the chaos, and he 
 assigns to each of us two swarthy, half-naked Bedouins, to 
 take us by either arm, Avhile he tells us that we can have 
 another, without extra charge, to push behind if we desire. 
 
 The huge blocks of stone Avhich form the outer coating 
 of Cheops are usually more than three feet in height, while 
 some of them reach nearly to the chin of a full grown man. 
 
ij-r 
 
 424 
 
 A HARD EARNED VICTORY. 
 
 I 
 
 It will be seen that it is with no mincing stop that one can 
 mount these enormous stones. But sonu'how or other one 
 course after another is surmounted, a little hollow will afford 
 a place for the toe, the muscular Bedouin will climb like a 
 cat, and, reaching down, will lift one to his height, while his 
 companion below pushes one upward. Then, following 
 along this course for a few yards, we find a place where it is 
 possible to mount to the next course of stones, and then to 
 the next, and so on until we stand on tlie very summit. 
 
 The day that we ascended was honoi'ed by the ascent of 
 an enormously stout lady, Avho, tliough she started some 
 time before we did, was soon overtaken. In spite of her 
 "too, too solid flesh," her spirit was l)rave and resolute, and 
 she had determined to conquer the pyramid and stand on its 
 apex. Most tourists would have been discouraged from the 
 attempt by so much superfluous avoirdupois, but not so with 
 our fair and fat excursionist. Her courage was evidently 
 quite as large as her bod}', and though she pulfed and 
 panted, and caused all her numerous retainers to puff and 
 pant in sympathy, yet she persevered. Lighter and more 
 agile tourists started long after she began the ascent, caught 
 up with her and passed her almost at a gallop, but she still 
 puffed and panted on. As many Bedouins pulled in front as 
 could get hold of a finger or an arm — as many more pushed 
 behind, and at last mind triumphed over matter, and our 
 Amazon stood upon the peak, and was able to wave her 
 handkerchief in triumph to her timid friends below who had 
 not dared to make the ascent. 
 
 It must not be thought, however, that even the most 
 agile tourist bounds like a young gazelle from one course of 
 stones to another, without stopping until he stands upon the 
 top. Though our guides are in a hurry to get up and get 
 down again, we are in no haste, and we insist upon sitting 
 
VIEW FROM THE TOP OP THE PYRAMIDS. 
 
 425 
 
 down to rest wherever we choose, for the view is growing 
 more and more superh the higher we ascend. 
 
 The veUow sand of the desert lies beneath us like a vast, 
 silent, petrilied sea, lapping the very feet of the pyramids. 
 On the plateau near by are two other iiuge ]>yramitls, while 
 one or two little ones — the children of the family — lie at 
 our feet. Near by, too, is the incomprehensible S))hinx, the 
 wontler and uivstei'y of the ages, calm and resolute and 
 silent, yet smiling still, though sadly battered and nuitilated 
 by the vandal hands of icoiKJclasts. 
 
 In every directicm except one, as far as the eye can reach, 
 is a scene of absolute desolation and death. Interminable 
 reaches ©f yellow sand, no oasis, no green ribbon of a grass- 
 like stream, no solitary palm tree waving its fronds in the 
 air — the most mournful country up(m which the sun of 
 heaven shines. In the far distance, to the south, rise the 
 pyramids of Abusir and Saccara, Avhere were made some 
 Avonderful "finds" of hidden treasures. But these monu- 
 ments of dead kings only seem to emphasize the desolation 
 of the landscape. The only object which breaks its mo- 
 notony are these majestic tombs — the monuments of a 
 civilization which has been dead for three thousand years. 
 
 But in another direction the scene changes. Beautiful 
 Cairo, mellowed and glorified by the haze of distance, rises 
 in the east with its countless minarets and beautifully 
 rounded domes, and all about the city, which is laved by the 
 life-giving Nile, is the deep-hued vegetation which makes a 
 city possible here in the midst of the desert. Wherever the 
 river goes, or a branch of the river, or a canal from that 
 branch, or an irrigating ditch from the canal, thither is 
 spread in fan-like lines the refreshing green that forms such 
 a blessed picture of life and health as contrasted with the 
 deadly sands upon which this little fan of green is laid. 
 
T 
 
 426 
 
 A STRANGE AND CURIOUS SIGHT, 
 
 AVhen Ave draw nearer to Father Nile we shall see many 
 strange and curious sights. Possibly we shall get a glimpse 
 of a crocodile, and we may be so fortunate as to come upon 
 one of these ugly saurians who has devoured his last infant 
 Egyptian, and who, bound, stunned, and helpless, is at the 
 mercy of his captors. Ilis hide will serve a more useful 
 purpose than ever before when it is turned into a scaly gri])- 
 sack for the use and behoof of some American drummer. 
 
 A SCENE ON THE NILE. 
 
 Of course such scenes are more common on the upper Nile 
 than they are near Cairo. 
 
 While we are sitting here on the pyramid-top, looking at 
 the view from one of the upper courses of stone, it Avill be a 
 good time for us to learn something of the construction of 
 the great monument we are ascending, and something of 
 its ancient history. 
 
 I Avas much interested in the account tliat Herodotus 
 gives of the building of Cheops, for no one can be more 
 accurate or reliable than the great historian in regard to 
 objects Avhich he himself saw. Here is his account of it : 
 "This pyramid was lirst built in the form of a flight of steps. 
 
T 
 
 HOW THE PYRAMIDS WERE BUILT. 
 
 427 
 
 of 
 of 
 
 After the workmen had completed the pyramid in this form, 
 they raised the other stones used for the incrustation by 
 means of nuichines made of short beams, from the ground to 
 the first tier of steps, and, after the stone was placed there, 
 it was raised to the second tier by another machine, for there 
 were as many machines as there w^ere tiers of steps, or per- 
 hap;s the same machine, if it Avere easily moved, Avas raised 
 from one tier to the other, as it was required for lifting the 
 stones. The liighest part of the pyramid was thus finished 
 first, the parts adjoining it were taken next, and the lowest 
 part, next to the earth, was completed last. 
 
 "It was recorded on the pyramid in Egyptian w'riting 
 [the stones which recorded these facts, I may say, have long 
 been removed, and there is now no writing visible] how 
 many radishes, onions, and roots of garlic had been dis- 
 tributed among the workmen, and if I rightly remember 
 Avhat the interpreter who read the Avriting told me," says 
 Herodotus, " the money they cost amounted to sixteen hun- 
 dred talents of silver [more than $170,000]. If this was 
 really the case, how much more must have been spent on the 
 iron with which they worked than the food and clothing of 
 the workmen." 
 
 This account of the ancient historian of the manner in 
 which the pyramid was constructed has been entirely con- 
 firmed by modern researches. 
 
 It can verv easily be believed that these vast structures, 
 
 witli their hidden recesses, early excited the cupidity of the 
 
 successors of the Pharaohs. It is said that the pyramids 
 
 were first opened and examined by the Persians about five 
 
 hundred years before Christ, and it is very certain that 
 
 Arabs made many attem})ts to get within the treasure 
 
 chamber. These vast receptacles of the bodies of the 
 
 kings of ancient Egypt Avere like the forbidden room in 
 3« 
 
 : 
 
 
428 
 
 WHAT WAS DISCOVERED IN THE PYRAMIDS. 
 
 Bluebeard's paluce, or the box or closet Avliich the anxious 
 mother tells the curious child must not be investiiiated. 
 The very fact that it was sealed excited the cupidity and 
 curiosity of these children of the desert, ami tliey Avere for- 
 ever trying to pry open the doors, and get at the fabulous 
 treasures which they believed were concealed within. The 
 vastness and the strength of the pyramids is in no Avay 
 better indicated than by the fact that for so long they 
 resisted the prying curiosity of these Khalifs, who had noth- 
 ing better to do than to pull down what the Pharaohs had 
 built up. 
 
 But it is very certain that they discovered within the re- 
 cesses of the pyramids, when, after hundreds of years, they 
 were aljle to force an entrance, very little to pay them for 
 their time and trouble. It was not until the 3'^ear 1820, 
 fully twelve hundred years after the first attempt was made 
 that Khalif Mamun got within the great pyramid, and it is 
 said that the gold found within was exactly enough to pay 
 for the cost of breaking and entering. Along with the 
 treasure, so runs the Arabian tradition, was found a marble 
 slab bearing an inscription which said that the money beside 
 it sufficed to pay for the work of the incjuisitive king, but 
 that if he attempted to go further, he would have his labor 
 for his pains, for he Avould find nothing worth taking. 
 
 It is altogether probable, as historians have suggested, 
 that if this gold were found, it had been ])reviously ])lace(l 
 there by the calif who made the investigation, in order that 
 his people might not be able to chide him with having 
 expended so much money for nothing. 
 
 Some of the vandals who succeeded Khalif Mamun were 
 not content to search the suj)[)ose(l treasure cluunber further, 
 but set out delil)erately to destroy with malice aforethought 
 the gigantic mementoes of the ])ast. Sultan Othman, who 
 
SEEKING TO DESTROY THE PYRAMIDS. 
 
 429 
 
 d 
 
 I'C 
 
 it 
 
 lO 
 
 lived at the close of the twelfth century, and Avliose name 
 ought to be forever execrated l^y all lovers of the niagnili- 
 cent, set to work with the fell purpose of destroying the 
 third pyramid, which we (!an see from the top of Gizeh a 
 little t(^ the west of us. He actually organized a party of 
 workmen to undertake this destruction, pitched a camp at 
 the base of the })yi'amid, and labored incessantly for eight 
 months; but the pyramid was stronger than the puny 
 Othnum. His eight months of labor, and the enormous 
 sums which he spent in the work of destruction practically 
 effected nothing, except as one historian says, "the shameful 
 mutilation of the pyramid and the demonstration of the 
 weakness and incapacity of the explorers. When the stones 
 that were removed are regarded at the present day, one 
 would think that the structure had been entirely destroyed ; 
 but when one then looks at the pyramid itself, one sees that 
 it has suffered no material damage, and that a part of its 
 incrustation has been stripped off on one side only." This 
 fact, concerning the impotence of this iconoclast, tells vol- 
 umes of the strength and solidity and might of the pyra- 
 mids. A great force of men, working incessantly for eight 
 months, could only scar and mutilate its face on one side. 
 The Pharaohs could build what their successors could not 
 overthrow. 
 
 Now we are sufficiently rested to pursue our journey to 
 the top ; following the zigzag line, planting our toes in the 
 convenient crevices, jum])ing and springing .as best we can, 
 allowing our guides to ])ull and push us wherever it may be 
 necessary, wo at last roach the summit, and the view which 
 was before ])artial and incomplete is now fidl-orbed and 
 most magnificent. Kowhere is there such a contrast of life 
 and death; nowhei'o else can we look down upon such 
 mighty hierogly})hics of the ages. 
 
t 
 
 430 
 
 VENDERS OP SPURIOUS CURIOSITIES. 
 
 i^ 
 
 I ■", 
 
 I 
 
 I 'H 
 
 
 As we stand below, ''forty centuries look down upon us," 
 as Napoleon reminded his troops, when they stood under the 
 shadow of the pyramids. As we gaze from the top, we look 
 down upon forty centuries. Every mighty pyramid is 
 eloquent Avith the tale of a past civilization, forever forgot- 
 ten and blotted out. Even the silent Sphinx seems to have 
 a tongue to tell us of the glories of the past, over which she 
 looks with her solemn, unblinking eyes. Every grain of 
 sand, if it could tell its tale, would have a story more 
 marvelous than the fictions of Scheherezade. 
 
 We are aroused from these reveries concerning the great- 
 ness of the past and the desolation of the present, by the in- 
 evitable Bedouins and their exasperating cry for baksheesh. 
 We arise in our wrath, and tell the miserable horde that if 
 they say anotlier word about backsheesh before we reach 
 the bottom of the pyramid, they will not get a single piaster 
 beyond the strictly legal limits of their pay. Though this 
 speech is delivered in queen's English, unadorned with a 
 single word of Arabic, they seem to understand its purport, 
 and subside to some extent. 
 
 But we are not relieved from the pestiferous attention of 
 the curiosity vender or the dealer in spurious coins, who 
 haunts the pyramid. lie claims, of course, that his coins 
 were found in the vaults of this very pyramid, though we 
 know very Avell that they were undoubtedly made in Bir- 
 mingham or Sheffield. But Avhat cares he for truth or 
 poetry ! AVhat cares he for the story of the pyramid, or the 
 tale of the Sphinx ! All these things are old fables to him, 
 and he is only concerned to work off upon us his spurious 
 relics, his "antikkers" as he calls them, in his Arabian 
 English. • 
 
 One of our guides insists that his name is Mark Twain, 
 "Abdul Mark Twain," he solemnly infoi-ms us, and when 
 
A WONDERFUL FEAT. 
 
 431 
 
 lan 
 
 im, 
 lien 
 
 we accuse him of prevarication, and tell him that we left 
 Mark Twain at the foot of the pyramid, and did not engage 
 him for the ascent, he unblushingly informs us that there are 
 three Mark Twains among the guides, but that he is Abdul 
 Mark Twain. We cannot shake his faith in his own iden- 
 tity, and then he solemnly informs us that he is the Mark 
 Twain, who, when the humorist visited the pyramid, ran 
 down Cheops and u]) 
 the side of Cephron 
 and back agam, all 
 within ten minutes. 
 He offers to do the 
 same feat for us for 
 the sum of four 
 francs, but we refuse 
 his blandishments. 
 
 When we reached 
 the bottom, we set- 
 tled the bill for the 
 ascent, not with our 
 importunate guide, 
 but with the grey- 
 bearded Sheik who 
 awaited us, paying 
 the regular fee and a 
 reasonable baksheesh to each of our guides. Of course this is 
 not done Avithout })rotestations and the bowlings of impotent 
 wrath that they cannot extract from us ten times what is 
 their due. But we are oblivious to their threats, as- 
 sume utter ignorance of their language, which is not difficult 
 to do, escape from their clutches, and make our way to the 
 Sphmx. 
 
 Of course we must go thither in as romantic a way as 
 
 THE FLIGHT DOWN THE PYKAMID. 
 
 : 
 
433 
 
 RIDING A CAMEL. 
 
 possible, and so Ave mount one of the ragged camels "which 
 are waiting to convey travelers to the silent stone woman^ 
 and in this manner make the short journey. 
 
 In order to allow tourists to mount, the camel unlimbers 
 himself, doubles in his fore legs and shuts them up like a 
 jackknife, does the same thing with his hind legs, and is 
 then sufficiently low, so that with some difficulty we can 
 reach the saddle. "When we are safely seated astride his 
 hump, he begins to undouble himself, first unjointing his 
 hind legs, then getting upon his knees, and finally upon his. 
 great, splay-footed, spongy feet. Preserving our equilibrium 
 as well as possible, and holding on with both hands, so as not 
 to be thrown over his head, Ave aAvait his next movement. 
 This is eA'en more trying than the first, for as he stretches 
 his front legs, Ave rock back and forth, as though Ave Avere 
 astride a miniature earthquake, but at last he is on his feet 
 again, and plods off solemnly Avith his nose high in the air, 
 toAvards the Sphinx of which he seems a fitting counterpart. 
 
 It is only a short journey, and is accomplished in a fcAv 
 minutes, and Ave find ourselves face to face Avith this silent 
 Avonder of the ages. The Sphinx Avas doubtless far more 
 impressiA'e before she had her nose battered off, her ear 
 amputated, and her eyes blackened, by the combined spite of 
 iconoclasts and relic hunters. 
 
 An old Mohammedan Sheik, Avho took the second com- 
 mandment too literallv, and voAved that the Avorld should 
 not have any graven images if he could help it, is responsible 
 for much of this mutilation. The Mamelukes accomplished 
 much more in this direction, having usetl the Sphinx as a 
 target for their cannon-balls, and relic hunters have added 
 their puny might by chipping away here and there bits of 
 stone to adorn their Avretched little museums. We can 
 scarcely get an adequate idea of this magnificent monument 
 
THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE SPHINX. 
 
 433 
 
 Id 
 e 
 
 ed 
 of 
 an 
 mt 
 
 of the ages when in its pristine glory, but we can easily be- 
 lieve what an old writer tells us who saw the statue when in 
 perfect preservation ; that its face was very pleasing, and 
 was of a graceful and beautiful type. " One might almost 
 sav,'' he adds, " that it smiles winninglv." The Arabs have 
 a very significant name for the S})hinXj Avhich may be trans- 
 lated "The AVatchful." This is the impression that she 
 still gives to every beholder. Tliere is still a wakeful intel- 
 ligence in the mutilated face ; there is still a calm suggestion 
 
 THE SPHINX. 
 
 of limitless vision in the eyes. There is still a calm poise in 
 the outstretched lions' feet and in the whole attitude of the 
 unfinished body, which leads one to say, "This is the 
 watcher of the desert." From her fathomless eves she has 
 looked out upon eveiything that has happened for four 
 thousand years, and she will still Avatch over the sands of 
 the desert, in spite of iconoclast and relic hunters, down to 
 "the last syllable of recorded time." 
 
 A few feet from the Sphinx is a great temple composed 
 of granite and alabaster, and in the vicinity are other 
 
484 
 
 ADIEU TO THE EGYPTIAN DESERT. 
 
 
 wonders as well. But Ave are satisfied with our day's work. 
 This stupendous pyramid and the nuigniticent Sphinx satisfy 
 all our aspirations for sightseeing. We can absorb, to-day, 
 no more of the marvels and glories of the ancient world, and 
 we will return to our hotel in Cairo, and later to our home 
 in America, to think over and to dream of the wonders of 
 the Egyptian desert. 
 
CIIAPTETl XXIII. 
 
 ALL ABOARD FOR JERUSALEM. 
 
 A Stormy Day in March — A Test for Brave Hearts and Strong Stom- 
 aclis — Throwing Up Jonah — Going Asliore at JalTa — How We Got 
 Down the Ship's Side — Dumping Passengers in the Small Boat — Up 
 to the Ridge Pole and Down the Side of tlie Great Tent — x\. Terrible 
 Accident — A Highwayman's Demand — " Your Money or Your Life" 
 — A Near Approach — Unsjieakable Filth — The House of Simon the 
 Tanner — Simon's Vat — View from tlie Housetop — Our Rural Friend 
 from New Y'ork State — "Them Jimkirridges " — Through the Holy 
 Land Behind a Steam Engine — The Sentimental Man — The Reward of 
 Indulging a Sentiment — Our Dragoman — How Abdallah Caught the 
 Doctors Napping — When the Sun and the Moon Stood Still — The 
 Dapper Conductor in His Red Fez — The Rose of Sharon. 
 
 E sailed from Alexandria one 
 stormy day in March, and, after 
 a journey of some four and 
 twenty hours, reached ancient 
 Jaffa, the chief seaport of Jeru- 
 salem. 
 
 Joppa, or Jaffa as it is now 
 called, deserves its bad reputa- 
 tion as the worst port in all the 
 world. Brave travelers who 
 will not blanch at any other ter- 
 rors which a journey around the 
 world has in store for them, confess to an unworthy fear of 
 this landing place, and strong stomachs which never rebel 
 under ordinary circumstances, however boisterous the seas, 
 
 turn themselves inside out when they go ashore at this port. 
 
 (435) 
 
 I 
 
I'H 
 
 43G 
 
 ON SHIPBOARD WITH JONAH. 
 
 \ 
 
 " Throwing up Jonah " becomes more than a figurative 
 plirase in the roadstead of Jaffa, for it will be remembered 
 tliat it was from this very town tluit the famous navigator of 
 old set sail, w^hen, attempting to run away from God's com- 
 mand, he took shii) for Tarshish. 
 
 Modern navigators on the Syrian coast have not forgotten 
 the Bible story, for, whenever the sea is unusually rough, 
 they say to this day, that Jonah has taken ship and the 
 waves will not subside until he is landed. 
 
 Evidently, Jonah was on board when we sailed up to 
 Jaffa's gates, for the waves danced and leaped about our 
 steamer and grew every moment more boisterous, though 
 the rain had ceased and the sun was shining brightly over- 
 head. 
 
 When the good steamer of the Egyptian or Khedival 
 line on which we were embarked came to anchor, the health 
 officer, after some delay, declared that we might land. Then 
 we could see half a score of stout boats, each armed by half 
 a dozen rowers, start out from behind the line of rocks Avhich 
 flank the coast and form a poor apology for a breakwater. 
 
 There is great rivalry between the boats, for all the i)as- 
 sengers are regarded as legitimate prey by the representa- 
 tives of tourist companies, and the boat that first comes to 
 the steamer is first served with its quota of passengers. 
 
 As they near the steamer, the boatmen pull with re- 
 doubled energy, and then ensues such a tumbling and scramb- 
 ling and rushing and snatching of baggage as defies de- 
 scription. 
 
 Most of us, however, have purchased our landing tickets 
 in advance, from one of the aforesaid tourists' companies, at 
 an absurdly high price, it must be confessed. The boatmen 
 of one of these rival companies wear red shirts, the other 
 blue, and we have little difficulty in picking out our blue-coat 
 
A PERILOUS DESCENT. 
 
 437 
 
 oat 
 
 or our red-coat, as the case may be. We have to use vio- 
 lence, however, to get our small packages out of the hands 
 of the wrong man and into the hands of the right man, who 
 finally dumps them into one of his own boats, and then pro- 
 ceeds to dump us in after the baggage. It is an exciting 
 operation, especially for women and fat j)eople. 
 
 The little boats are dancing about the big steamer like 
 pith balls on an electric i)late. Now they mount on the 
 crest of a wave almost to the bulwarks, and then they sink 
 down, down, down, far below the usual water line. 
 
 It requires no little dexterity and agility to get over the 
 steamer's side and into the little boat under these circum- 
 stances. One must watch his chance, and when the landing 
 boat rises on the wave to its highest ])oint, he must rush 
 down the gangway and throw himself into the arms of the 
 boatman Avho is waiting to receive him below. 
 
 All this is done amid shouts of sailors and shrieks of 
 frightened tourists and dashing of waves and creaking of 
 windlasses and whistling of wind in the rigging until it 
 seems that Pandemonium itself is let loose. 
 
 At length, however, the last passenger has been swung 
 over the ship's side, and the last trunk has been dropped into 
 the capacious boats, which, with the greatest difficulty, are 
 kept from grinding themselves into kindling wood on the 
 iron hull of the steamer. Our boatmen shove off, and then 
 begins a royal struggle with the waves. 
 
 Up, up, up, w' e go, to the very ridgepole of a great billow 
 which slopes away on either side like a vast tent. Then we 
 slide down, down, down the billowy side of our watery tent, 
 until we reach the trough of the wave, only to mount the 
 side of the next wave that is rushing our Avay, as though it 
 would collapse and overwhelm us in its capacious folds. 
 
 Thus we mount one billow after another, our sturdy boat- 
 
438 
 
 A DISTRESSING ACCIDENT. 
 
 man always |)uttin<r the prow of the boat into the wave, and 
 never aUowiiig' it to strike us broaclside, until at last wo 
 round the edg-e of the protecting rocks and hear that 
 " blessedest of sounds," the keel of our l)oat grating- on the 
 pebbles of Jaffa's shore. 
 
 AVith all its seeming frightfulness, there is probably little 
 real danger in this landing, and comparatively few accidents 
 occur except by reason of gross carelessness. 
 
 A few weeks before we reached Jaffa, however, a very 
 distressing accident of this sort had occurred. A lai'ge party 
 of travelers, mostly Russian ])ilgrims, had embarked on one 
 of these boats for the shore. The day was stormy and the 
 sea tempestuous ; very much such a day, we imagine, as that 
 on which we landed. The passengers had all agreed with 
 the boatmen to be taken to the shore for half a napoleon 
 (nearly two dollars), a sum wdiicli, for the distance carried, is 
 exorbitant. But no sooner was the boat in the middle of the 
 boiling, seething waters, half way between the ship and the 
 shore, when the avaricious boatmen demanded double farts 
 and threw up their oars, declaring that they would go no 
 farther until their demands were met. 
 
 This was no better than highway robbery, and naturally 
 the passengers refused to accede to it. In the dispute that 
 ensued, a tremendous wave struck the boat, and, in the 
 twinkling of an eye, overturned it, and after a few vain 
 struggles with the engulfing waves, it sank to the bottom. 
 'Not one of the pilgrims was saved, though all the greedy, 
 rascally boatmen, being strong swimmers, succeeded in reach, 
 ing the rocks. 
 
 It is a satisfaction to know" that all these murderers were 
 apprehended and lodged in jail, Avhere we hope they will 
 remain for many a year before they are released to risk the 
 lives of other tourists by their grasping cupidity. 
 
JAFFA AS IT IS. 
 
 439 
 
 Jaffa is ail imposing lookiri"^ city fi-oni tlie sea. Its whito- 
 waslied stone houses swanu up the side of a steep liill, and 
 spread themselves out over its crest until one fondly believes 
 that he is ^azin<^ upon a city of palaces. 
 
 J3ut in this case, as in so many others, distance lends en- 
 chantment to the view, and when weactuallv land and thread 
 the narrow, tortuous streets, we tind that it is about the filthi- 
 est and most unkem])t city on which the sun shines. 
 
 The streets are full of swaying camels and pushing little 
 donkeys and unwashed ragged Syrians of every degree of 
 poverty and wretchedness. 
 
 It is almost inconceivable how some of the narrow streets 
 can remain as filthy as they are. One would think that even 
 an occasional shower would wash some of the accumulated 
 dirt of the ages off them, jind that a rainv season Avould sen- 
 sibly sweeten these filthy thoroughfares. 
 
 Apparently, however, nature has given up in despair. 
 The dirt of the days of Jonah still clings to one's feet in 
 greasy clods. The mud and filth of the time of Dorcas is 
 com})aratively modern. We have always supposed that Dor- 
 cas was a model housekeeper as well as a good lady of 
 most charitable purposes, and we have no doubt that she 
 kept the street in front of her own house clean and sweet. 
 But what is one M'oman against a whole city full of dirty 
 Arabs ? Very likely Dorcas and all the good women who 
 have lived there before and since her day have become dis- 
 couraged, and have allowed Jaffa to go on at the slovenly, 
 down-at-the-heel gait, which is now so characteristic of it. 
 
 Though we cannot find any very authentic memorials of 
 Dorcas, the traditional house of Simon the Tanner is ])ointed 
 out to us, and a pretty well authenticated tradition it is as 
 traditions go in this land. 
 
 In the first-place, we are conducted into a dark, thick- 
 

 440 
 
 THE HOUSE OF SIMON THE TANNER. 
 
 walled apartment, where Ave need a candle even to see the 
 outlines of the room, and are told that this was the very spot 
 Avhere the ancient liouse existed, and that the stones we see 
 constituted its walls eif>:hteen hundred years ag-o. 
 
 Just outside this room is a courtyard, in one corner of 
 which is a well and a stone trough, which tradition says is 
 the vat in which St. Peter's friend of old soaked his leather. 
 
 In the well hangs an old oaken bucket from which we 
 drank a full draught of the sparkling Avater, as ])erhaps 
 Simon and Peter had done many a time in the past. 
 
 From one corner of this courtyard a flight of stairs leads 
 to the housetop, the most famous part of this establishment, 
 for here it is said St. Peter slept Avhen he had the wondrous 
 vision which was fraught Avith such momentous meaning to 
 all the world. 
 
 Here he saw the sheet let down from heaven Avhicli con- 
 tained all manner of four-footed beasts while at the same 
 time came the command, " Rise, Peter, kill and eat." 
 
 But Peter demurred, saying, " Not so. Lord, for I have 
 never eaten anything common or unclean." 
 
 Then came the significant command Avhicli wrought such 
 a wondrous change in the heart of the narrow, conventional 
 Jew, and Avhich made him the broad-minded, generous apos- 
 tle whom all a":es delight to honor. 
 
 " What God hath cleansed that call not thou common." 
 
 Was ever a vision accompanied by greater results 'i 
 
 Is any place fraught with deeper significance than that 
 humble housetop from which was proclaimed to Peter and 
 through Peter to the world the momentous lesson that the 
 Fatherhood of God involves the Brotherhood of Man? 
 
 The view from this housetop makes it Avell Avorthy of a 
 visit apart from its historic significance. 
 
 Here one looks out upon the Avaves of the same ])ort that 
 
''starving all around the world." 
 
 441 
 
 
 it 
 id 
 
 le 
 
 a 
 
 at 
 
 has been historic since Ilirani, Kino: of Tvre, bv this route 
 sent cedar Avood and all manner of precious gifts to Solomon. 
 
 Between these same encircling rocks the little vessel on 
 "which Jonah had embarked must liavo steered her course ; 
 over these waves half the famous men of old made tlieir way, 
 as they came and went thrf)ugh this ocean gate of Syria. 
 
 After viewing this really fine view from Simon's house- 
 top, after visiting the site of Napoleon's hospital prison, 
 where, if historians are to believed, at his orders a horrible 
 Ijutchery of sick French soldiers occurred ; after spending 
 a few sentimental moments in the vicinity of Dorcas's 
 reputed abode, Ave did not care to stay in this squalid city. 
 
 We did stay long enough, however, to meet a typical 
 character from Xew York state, a good old man, who, 
 though he had been around the Avorld, and tasted the food 
 of every clime, had not shaken the hayseed out of his hair or 
 got used to his best "store clothes," Avhicli sat upon him 
 awkwardly and loosely. 
 
 A s we looked across the table, at Jaffa's very indifferent 
 hotel, where a bowl of thin onion soup had been succeeded 
 by a dish of garlic-scented meat, our rural friend looked 
 across at us and said, with a pathetic wail in his voice, "I 
 have been starving all around the Avorld; in Japan, China, 
 and India we have been half starved to death, for we are 
 Americans, you see, and ain't used to this sort of thing." 
 We sympathized Avith him with all our hearts, for, although 
 it had been our ha]i'py lot to spend most of our time among 
 friends where Ave felt almost as much at home as at our own 
 table, Ave realized Avhat it must have been to this wandering 
 Jonathan who had left the haylields to see the Avorld, in his 
 old age, Avhen he Avas too far advanced in years to ada])t 
 himself to the circumstances Avith Avhich he found liimself 
 surrounded, and to eat the food that Avas set before him. 
 
! 
 
 442 
 
 ALL ABOARD FOR JERU ALEM. 
 
 lie wont on to tell us about Ins o::j)er^nces. "I did 
 kind o' liko it in Japun," lie conlid(Ml to us. "Tlicy were 
 .sort o' sniiU't, and up and comin', and .seemed a <^()od deal 
 like the Yankees I was used to at home, and I did like them 
 jimkii'ridges that they ride in," h" went on to say. " You 
 mean the jinrikishaws," said his better hall', who sat by his 
 side. "Yes," he replied, "jimkirrid^(»s or jini'ikishaws or 
 wliatever they call 'em, it's all one to me." 
 
 We soon hade good-bye to the rural New Yorkc^r and 
 t<jok the iirst train available for Jerusalem. At the lirst 
 blush it does seem sacrilegious to think of driving through 
 the Holy Land behind a snorting locomotive, to have an im- 
 pertinent railway ticket thrust into your hatband by a 
 jaunty (jonductor in a Turkish iez, and to steam across the 
 sacred valleys and over the sacred mountains, even though 
 we travel at the alarming speed of lii'teen miles an hour. 
 
 However, when the (piestion actually comes as to 
 wliether one will take two days to make the journey for the 
 sake of indulging a pious sentiment, or will make it in three 
 hours, thus gaining more time in the Sacred City, the prac- 
 tical man will doubtless (hscide to jjostpone his sentimental 
 aspirations for a short time, and take advantage of tlu; new 
 French railroa<l which has been constructed from the sea- 
 shore almost to the very gate of the City of King J^avid. 
 
 I have heanl of one man who was bound not to yield to 
 the blandishments of raj)id transit, but to nui'se his poetic 
 sensibilities in solitude as lie entered the Holy (^'ity, or at 
 least with the companionship of his faithful steed alone. 
 He would transport hims<'lf back to the twelfth century as 
 far as possible;. lie would enter the; city like the ('rusachn* 
 of old, I'iding u|)oti his chosen charger. Thougii he might 
 patronize the I'ailway for a short distance, he; would abandon 
 it before it approache<l the sacrtid gates. 
 
SENTIMENT VEKSUS COMFORT. 
 
 443 
 
 
 to 
 litic 
 
 at 
 i)i\e. 
 V ;>s ■ 
 
 So when within two stations of Jci'usah'ni, al)out twelve 
 En<^lish miles distant, h(» left tlus ti-ain and the c;oin- 
 ])anions with whom he had joui'iieyed, and hiced a horse, 
 which proved to he a sorry na;^' indeed, for the rest of 
 the journc^y. I>nt the skies were unpropitioiis — they evi- 
 dently did not sympathize with his sentiments, for, befoi'c; he 
 had <^'one a mile, black clonds covered th(; fa(;(! of the 
 heavens, the snn I'etircjd from view and th(! rain descended in 
 torr(>nts. Thon<i:h W(st to the skin there; was nothini"- to do 
 hnt to i)lod on ov<!r the steej) and I'ocky roads, lie couhl 
 not sj)nr his jaded steed to any greater exei'tion, and in; ;ir- 
 rived, wet and hedi-ag-f^hid, with all the sentinu^nt soaked ont 
 of his system, some three honrs after his more; nnpoetic 
 companions, wIkj stnck to tlus railway, had reached Jeru- 
 salem. 
 
 On th<j day that we took this famous railway ride our 
 fellow-passengers consisted of some half-do/.en Amc^ricans, as 
 many moie Englishmen, n few hilarious Turks, who had 
 heen breaking their tempei'ance pledg(! by indulging in 
 strong waters, and one or two fat and unctuous )>riests. 
 
 Hut most j>ictuiV'S(|ue of our fellow-passengers was Ab- 
 dallah, the dragoman, who Wiis taking some of >ui' fellow- 
 passimgei's to their hotel. Alert, keen, cjuick-witted, he was 
 a typical Syrian in t!V(;ry feature and characteristic. 
 Arouiul his head was a beautiful j)urpl(! silk ka[)hileh, while 
 over his shoulders was a loose flowing gai-ment of liiu' ti'xt- 
 ui'e, shot through and through with silver threads, tlu; envy 
 and despair of most of the ladies in the car. 
 
 A eonnnon saying in tlu^ Kast is, '' \ (ireek will gcit the 
 biittei- of tt^n KurojM'ans, a -lew will beat ten (Jreeks, an 
 Armenian will e(jual ten ,I<jws, and a Syrian is more than a 
 match for a (Ireek, .lew, and Arnu'iiian togtjther." We 
 (•ould well understand this saying as we looked at this keen, 
 
I 
 
 444 
 
 ABDAl.LAir. orii DRAOOMAX. 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 si'll'-rcliaiit, I'cady dvagomiiu, wiio liad the histoiy, geogra- 
 phy, and ai'cha'ology of ]*al('stine at his tongue's end. 
 
 At least h<' had cnonuli of it to answei' his j)ur})ose and 
 to make himscU' (|uit(' indispetisablo to the ])arty who i»hiced 
 
 tlieniselves under his <juid- 
 
 1 -=-*<^t4?S^'-^S'''- '^"^^^ '^VJiid. lie did not know 
 
 --^^' .;«ite<»I^V . ^^ ,^,,^^j,^ ^,j^, j.^,^,, tln-ough wliieh 
 
 we journeyed was evichMitly 
 not woi'th knowing, in his 
 oj)ini(jn, and he managed to 
 impress the same idea ujx)!! ail 
 of us who listened to him. 
 
 Pointing out ol' tlie win- 
 dow, as th<' ti'ain drew a little 
 l)ey()nil tile station at Jaira, 
 he said, '* There is the ])lace 
 wlio'e Samson tied tlie foxes' 
 tails together and let them 
 loos(? in the standing coi'u. 
 And there, just over the hill, 
 is the land of the riiilistines,'' 
 he informed us, with the ut- 
 most eonfidenee in his (»wn 
 geogi'ajihical accuracy, what- 
 ever doubt e X j> I o I'ers a nd 
 scholars might fei'l in their 
 own conclusions. 
 
 As he s])oke he im])arted 
 his conlidence t() all the party, and we could almost see a 
 muscular Goliath showing his shaggy head above the hill-top. 
 " Over yonder," he went on to say, " is tlie ])lace where 
 the moon stood still in the Valley of Aijalon," '"Ah," said 
 ■we to oui'selv(>s, '' now we have g<jt you, ]\Ir. Dragoman," 
 
 I- St. -•■' 
 
 AHDAM.AII, (UK I)I{A(i()MAN. 
 
 
 
LILIKS OF THK FIELD. 
 
 445 
 
 "S, 
 
 \lt- 
 
 iwn 
 lat- 
 nd 
 iciv 
 
 ie II 
 
 -top. 
 
 lere 
 
 said 
 
 an," 
 
 and hall' a dozen voices si)ok(; out witii the yleijfui assin'ancc 
 of hoys who hav(; c'au<^ht tlicii' })rofossor nai)|)iiig; "()h, 
 Ahdalhih, you have niadi; a niistako this time, it was the sun 
 that stood still, and not the moon," l>ut Ahdallah was more 
 than a match for tlu; pi'ofessors and the ministers whosou<^ht 
 to correct him, for, whii)})ing' out a pocket i>ible, he lui'iied 
 at once to the passa<^e and I'cad from tlu; twelfth vers(i of the 
 tenth chapter of floshua ; " Then s|)ak(' . Joshua, to the Lord 
 in the day when the Lord d('li\('r('d up tlx; Amorites hefoi'c; 
 the children of Israel. And he snid in tlii! si<^'ht of Isi'ael, 
 Sun, stand thou still u[»()ii (iiheou, and thou, Moon, in the 
 Valley of Aijalon. And the sun stood still, and the moon 
 stayed, until the nation had aveii^^cd themselves of their ems 
 mies." Evidently, Ahdallah had the iJook on his side and 
 there was notliine' for the lieverend Divines U) do but to 
 subside' and to look more dii^nilied than they felt. 
 
 For the lii'st few miles out of .lei'usalem the railway I'uns 
 over smiling, cultivated lields, jij'reen when wt; saw them with 
 the rich vei'dure of s])rin«^time, and oay with the rose of 
 Hharon, for this is none othei" than the celebi'ated land of 
 Sharon of IJiblc! times. Another bi'iliiant llower which is 
 found in th(> utmost profusion, is the scarlet anemone, 
 called in ^Litthew, "the lily of the Held," of whicli Christ 
 said: " IJehold the lilies of the Held, how they e'l-ow, foj* 
 thev toil not, neither do thev s|)in, and v(;t I sav unto vou, 
 that Solomon in all his ylorv was not arraved like one of 
 these." 
 
 At the infrequent stations where the train stopped, mak- 
 ing u]) for their infrecpience, howevei", by a long stop at every 
 station, the passengers wf)uld get out and })luck gi'eat hand- 
 fuls of these beautiful flowers. Then the dapi)er little con- 
 ductor with his red fez, and the inevitable cigarette in his 
 mouth, would wave his hand and off would start the train 
 
V ,7 r I 
 
 I 
 
 44G 
 
 OVER THE MOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. 
 
 1 
 
 across other historic scenes whose very thought filled our 
 hearts with emotions which cannot be recortled, as we remem- 
 bered that we Avere in the land of David and Solomon and 
 Samuel and Joshua, and that we were approaching the city 
 whose rough pavements had been pressed by the feet of our 
 blessed Lord and Saviour. 
 
 A few miles from Jaffa the railway begins to ascend a 
 steep and rugged mountain side, and for the rest of the 
 journey it climbs over the hills and rum])les through rocky 
 chasms that would not discredit the heights of the Rockies 
 or the Sierra Nevadas themselves. Even where railwavs are 
 common, this rock-ljuilt roadway, twisting around the base 
 of perpendicular crags, and toiling by slow approaches over 
 the flanks of inhospitable mountains, would be considered no 
 ordinary feat of engineering ; there in this land of oppression 
 and hopelessness, any such enterprise is truly marvelous. 
 
 AVhen we remember that thirty years ago there was no 
 wheeled vehicle of any kind in Palestine ; when we remember 
 not only the engineering difficulties, but the governmental 
 obstacles which were thrown in the way of this railroad, and 
 the innumerable petty hindrances which it met, our only 
 marvel is, that its projectors persevered, and that now the 
 modern locomotive and railway train rumble up to the very 
 walls of the City of David. 
 
 Not only France, but England, Germany, Sweden, and 
 Italy, as well as Syria and Turkey, were represented in 
 some i)art of the construction or equipment of this road ; 
 while America is not left out, for engines from the Baldwin 
 Locomotivp "Works rumble up these steep grades, and shriek 
 with their shrill Avhistles at every dangerous crossing. 
 
 Thus, each one among the cosmopolitan list of passengers 
 who daily patronize this road, may feel that he has some 
 especial interest in its welfare. 
 
 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "JERUSALEM, JERUSALEM"- OUR SOJOURN IN THE I IND 
 OF SACRED STORY -INTERESTING SCENES AND TOUCH 
 ING MEMORIES. lULCll- 
 
 Tlie Rrakoman-s Announcement -Incongruous Modernism - Enterincr 
 
 A wi'" ~^ !F"^ !^"'"''""' - '■ '^'"^ '^'^y "f the Whole Earth - - 
 Ph •". H 'r ^^""•^-^^^''^- ^r-''-'-" ^'ity-A Pathetic Storv- 
 
 Plungm. „,tu the Heart of the City -The Various Shops- Silverware 
 from I^muiscus- Shy lock in Jerusalen.- A Suggestion of White-Caps 
 - i lie Camel and II,s Sneering Underlip - The Dignified Syrian - The 
 Cn,,.ch_of the Holy Sepulchre -A Checkered History -The Stone 
 of I nctiou- A Touching Rible Story -Measuring the Stone for Tl eir 
 ^^uuUns Sheet-Our Lord's Tond,-The Great Unwashed-How 
 Adam Came to Life -The Cleft in the Rock -An Impressive Spec- 
 tacle -A Disgraceful Easter Scene — An Awful Accident. 
 
 ERUSALEM, Jerusalem," cries out 
 the rcailway guard, and amid the 
 noise and bustle that always sur- 
 rounds a station, the cracking of 
 whips of the impatient cab-drivers, 
 the snorting of the locomotives 
 that run back a;nd forth, makinfr 
 up their empty train, the trundling 
 of trucks, and the tumbling about 
 of baggage, we have our first intro- 
 duction to the Holy City. 
 
 Could anything be more incon- 
 gruous? is our first thought, and we are inclined to wish 
 that we had followed the example of our friend of whom I 
 wrote in the last cliaj^tor, and had ridden into Jerusalem 
 more as the Master of old rode into the city, even though it 
 
■■;; 
 
 448 
 
 A FURROW ON THE LANDSCAPE. 
 
 might be under lowering- skies luul in drencliiiig rain. How- 
 ever, these are only the })assing thoughts of the anxious trav- 
 eler who is naturalh' solicitous i'or his trunk and his valise, 
 his bandbox and his bundle, and who knows not what sort of 
 lodging may await him at his journey's end. 
 
 After all, Jerusalem caniu>t be dwai'fed or tliminislied l)y 
 any such scenes of modern bustle and commotion. There 
 stands tlie city pi'oudjy on its hills as of yore. It hi s with- 
 stood the decay of centuries, tiie tramp of conquering ai'jnies, 
 the vandalism of the Saracen, and the destruction that comes 
 in the wake of war and })estilence and conquest. How can 
 it be alFected then by this puny invention of the nineteenth 
 century i The much boasted I'ailway makes but a scratch on 
 the side of the eternal hills. Viewed fi'om a little distance, 
 it seems t(j tui'u but a single furrow on the vast landscajie, 
 which is as wide as the hoi'i/.on ()n either side. The wearied 
 train that crawls slowly up the hills looks like a mere speck 
 when viewed from the walls of Jerusalem — a fly upon the 
 nose of the Sphinx, a beelk^ on the face of the })yramids. It 
 does not affect the real life of Jerusalem. 
 
 The railway stops short, and it is well that it should, a 
 good mile from tlie city, and, getting into I'ickety carriages, 
 Avhicii have evi(lei\tly done duty in some more civilized com- 
 munity, we have come at last to oui' hotel at the gates of the 
 most famous city in the world. I do not envy the man 
 whose heart does not beat a little faster, and whose ])ulses do 
 not thrill as he a})i)roaches the JalTa gate and sees the Tower 
 of David rearing its nuissive head above the time-stained 
 Avails of the city. As he remembers all that has occurred 
 within those walls ; as he calls to mind that here David sang 
 and Solomon held his coui't ; tliat here the Queen of Sheba, 
 Avas obliged to declare, as she looked on all the treasures that 
 had been rathered tofi-ether, that the half had not been told 
 
lid, a 
 |iages, 
 coin- 
 )f the 
 inim 
 'sdo 
 L\nver 
 iiined 
 ■urn'd 
 
 ll SiUlg 
 
 >lieba. 
 
 s that 
 
 In told 
 
BEAUTIFUL FOR SITUATION. 
 
 451 
 
 liei' of the riches that were hea[)e(l within tiiose walls; as he 
 reiiienibers the prophets wlio here spoUe the warnin<i; wortls 
 of God, of Xeheiniah Avho reared again the prostrate walls, 
 of the people wlio woi-kod willingly, swoi-d in (jiie hand and 
 trowel in the other, to luring back the ancient glory to the 
 deserted city ; alxjve all, as one renieinbers the Divine trag- 
 edy that was here enacted of the trial, the scourging, the 
 indignities and cross-bearing of the Son of God ; he must be 
 dull and insensate, indeed, who looks on Jerusalem for the 
 first time unmoved. 
 
 But even wei'e there hei'e no suprcnu' historical associa- 
 tions for the Christian, Jerusalem woidd even be an interest- 
 inu' citv. Even then would the sentiment of the Psalmist be 
 true, that she is l)eautiful for situation, even if not at })resent 
 the joy of the whole earth. Imagine a bare and rocky 
 })lateau, thickly studded with stone houses, and surroimded 
 to the very edge, where it (lij)s oil" into the steep valley, by a 
 high wall. On ail sides imagine bleak, gray, granite hills, 
 overtopping the plateau. Imagine between these distant 
 hills and this little table-land on which Ave are staniling, 
 black and cavernons valleys, the np[)er ami lower pools of 
 Gihon on one side, the valley of ,rehosha})hat on another, 
 running into the valley of the Kedron to the east. Every- 
 Avliere imagine bare, j)recipitous hills, scowling rocks denuded 
 of all soil and vegetation, gray and forbidding but nnijestic 
 in their very barrenness, and you have a picture, drawn very 
 imperfectly and riulely, to be sure, but giving some rough 
 idea of modern Jerusalem. 
 
 In ancient days there was doubtless much more here to 
 make the heart g-lad. The hills were covered with smiling 
 vineyards, terraces rising tier above tier on the iiillside 
 alforiled standing ground for corn and grain and various 
 vegetation; frequent villages dotted the hillsides and the 
 
462 
 
 PROUD, EVEN IN DEf'AV. 
 
 IP' 
 
 valleys; and, in everv wav, the countrv showed that it wiis 
 not unwortliy ol' the eiih»gies jnunouneed upon it, the huul of 
 milk and honey, of corn and wine, and of everything that 
 typilied prosperity. 
 
 But the feet of trampling armies have done their work, 
 the oppression of tyrannical governments and the gradual 
 decay of national spirit have reduced the land to a ])overty- 
 stricken dependency of the Sublime Porte. The mighty ai'o 
 fallen, indeed, but with all these changes, political, inchisti'ial, 
 and agricultural, Jerusalem still rears its ])roud head among 
 the surrounding valleys, ami even in its decay and I'uin tells 
 everv passiim- traveler what a lordlv citv it used to be. 
 
 From without nothing cc^uld l)e ])rouder oi' grander than 
 this city of the kings ; from within nothing could well be 
 meaner or nu:>re beggarly. Let us enter l)y the Jaffa gate. 
 Even Avhen well within the walls we are not transported 
 back to the early centuries by sudden leaps or bouiuls, for 
 the first sign that stares us in the face is that of the I'rince 
 of Dragonuins, Thomas Cook, whose name, it is safe to say, 
 is more familiar than that of any other man in the far East. 
 Then our eyes rest u])on a modern hotel, Avhicli even in this 
 ancient city rejoices in the name of " The Xew Hotel." In 
 the stores beneath this hotel and on the streets adjoining are 
 various slioj)s where all kinds of articles of olive wood are 
 sold, — candlesticks and inkstands, penholders and book- 
 racks, and ever\' possible thing that can be carved or whittled 
 out of the beautifully-grained olive tree. Here, too, we find 
 dealers in Bethlehem mother-of-pearl, and in Jerusalem 
 crosses of silver, in ])hylacteries and ancient manuscripts, 
 and all kiiuls of bric-a-brac. 
 
 But these places have comparatively little significance or 
 attraction for us. As soon as possible Ave will dive into the 
 heart of the citv and see Jerusalem as it is. 
 
THE ANCIENT FORTRESS — THE MODERN CITY. 453 
 
 Fii'st, liowevor, let us got a littlu idea <»1' the liistory of 
 this most fjiinous city of all tlieag-es. It will ho roiiioinhored 
 that tho city is built on the ancient frontier line between 
 #lu(lah and Uonjaniin, and for many years before it was made 
 tho ca))ital of .ludea by the coiujuost of David, it was a 
 stron<^ fortress of the ancient Canaanites. Some have sup- 
 ])osod that it was a very lai'ji^e city even before David's time ; 
 but it is altog-ether probable that it was only on(i of the 
 many mountain fortresses that were found in dilferent parts 
 of Palestine, and which were used as places of refuge in the 
 stormy times that ]n'evailed. 
 
 ]>ut the conquest of the city by David and its magniticent 
 enlargement and endjoUishnient by Solonum made it ''the 
 joy of the whole earth," and this, in a religious sense, it has 
 continued to be to millions of devout heai'ts, in spite of sieges, 
 wars, famines, and manifold disasters. 
 
 The modern city may be said to date from the time of 
 the Crusades, for the j)rinci])al streets are the same now as 
 in the Twelfth Centurv. They are arched over in many 
 places, and the markets and ])arts of the Via Dolorosa are 
 completely covered. There are now four quarters, of which 
 the Mohammedans occupy the northeast, the Jews the 
 southeast, the Armenians the southwest, and the Christians 
 the northwest ; the most disreputable, uncleanly of all l)eing 
 the Jewish quarters. For many years the ])opulation 
 steadily decreased until, in 1S8S, l)ut 11,000 peo])le re- 
 mained. Now, however, within the walls and without, 
 there are some 47,000 people, of whom 27,000 are Jews. 
 Comparatively small as is the Jewish population in this 
 s])iritual capital of Judaism, it is far larger tiuin in former 
 years, and at the present rate of increase it is only a matter 
 of time before the cry, "Jerusalem for the Jews," will be 
 something more than an em]>ty sentiment. 
 
UfT' 
 
 45-4 
 
 JERUSALEM AT THE EASTEK FESTIVAL 
 
 A piitlictic story tells iis tli;it six liiindrcd vcjirs ;i,i;o there 
 wel'e not .lews eiloil^^li ill .) el'iis;ilelii to iiiiike ii|) all iiiKlieliee 
 for a synii;^(),i:iie meet in;:', w liicli, aecoi'diiii;' totlieir law. re- 
 (|iiires tell |)ersoiis. and wlieii in despair the nine forlorn 
 straii^^crs came to;^vther in the home land of their lathers, 
 waih'nu;' and lanientatioii was heard heeaiise there were not 
 eiioliuh of them ill the once proild eily to eoiidiicl the ser\iee 
 aee(»rdiii^' to their usual forni. .Inst at this iniict lire, when 
 their depression and sorrow was at its heiiiht.the tradition 
 ^•oes on to say that I^lijah appeared, iiiahin^' the tenth ])er- 
 soli in the eoinpaiiy. and at the same time making' the meel- 
 \\\'^ possible. 
 
 At certain jieriods of the year the population is wrv 
 laru'el\' increased l>y \isitini:' pilj^rims. se\(i'al thousands of 
 whom come, especially at I'lasler time, to worship in the 
 sacred city. ( )ii t his occasion, as has heeii said hy a IraNcler 
 who recently \isite(| the city at the time of this ;^reat 
 festi\al: " The st reets of .leriisaleiii present a straii'ie .spec- 
 tacle from the iiiinierous national costumes seen toizcther. 
 'I'lie I'Jiropeaii tourists, the 'I'ui'kish ni/am. the hooded Ar- 
 menian, t he loiii^-haired (ireek monk-, are min^'led with the 
 iiat i\'e peasants ill yellow tiirhaiisand stripeij niaiit les. wit h 
 Armenia' itilLi'rims weariii;^' hroad Vi-(\ sashes, .lews in 
 ()rieiital co>,iiime or with the Uw cap and lo\clocksof the 
 I'hai'isce, Kiissiaiis in knee hoots and padde*! rohes. and 
 native Jadies in white inaiith's and hlack' veils. 'I'he 
 architecture of the city, ()rieiital. (iothic. lly/.aiil iiie. or 
 Italian, tells the same story that .leriisaleiii ha^ heeii for 
 ei;ihteen centuries a holy city in the eyes of .lew. ( 'hrislian. 
 and Moslem alike, and the religious center of half the 
 world."" 
 
 l!iit let lis plilli;:e into the heart of the city, Hot at Maslei'- 
 ti(h' when it has on its iiolida\' attire, hut on an ordiiiar\' dav 
 
THE ( ITV S KVKItVDAV ASI'HCT, 
 
 455 
 
 wvy 
 
 (is (.1' 
 
 I tlic 
 
 |)('C- 
 
 lirl'. 
 
 Ar- 
 
 with 
 s in 
 r the 
 and 
 Tlu- 
 c. <»r 
 II tor 
 islian, 
 r till" 
 
 lasl'.'i'- 
 i-v (lav 
 
 of tin; year, w lii'ii -Ifnisalciii. so to spcjik, is in its woi'kiiin' 
 clotlics, and vci'v dii'l \V()rkiiiii' dot lies tiicy arc The 
 liai'i'ow streets are 111 led with i'iil)hish and dirt wliieh. at'tei' 
 a soakin;^' I'ain, render llieni ahnost ini[).issahle. 'I'he nai-row 
 
 vM 
 
 HKiiCWC. DKIiVISIIIS, .niil'^M.Ii.M. 
 
 side streets ai'(^ worse si ill, for jiarhaue ^>\' e\-ery kind, cats, 
 dead and ali\'e. ;4'o;ils, cat I le, and donkeys make locomotion 
 anyl hini;' l»nl a luxury. 
 
 II' not a luxury. lio\ve\-et'. a walk throuuh .Jerusalem is at 
 least lull of al»s(»rl»in^' interest. Some of the streets, as has 
 hueii said, are com|ilelely I'ool'ed (»\cr, and tiie I ra veler I'eels 
 
45G 
 
 STREET SCENES IN THE HOLY CITY. 
 
 01 \ 
 
 i 11 
 
 ii; 
 
 that he is walking through a continuous niui'ket-j)hice, with 
 little stalls <^n either side for the sale of an almost uniniaain- 
 able variety of goods. Amber beads occupy one stall, and a 
 hundred strings hanging from the roof and dangli)ig fi-oni 
 the sides tempt to a j)urchase the lover of this beautiful sub- 
 stance. Xext, ])erhaps, is a sho]) lilled with old shoes in all 
 varieties of dila])idation, which were woi'ii out ten years ago 
 and have never seen blacking-brush since the day they w^'re 
 made. Next to this is the cavei'iious den of a baker, with 
 his glowing oven in tiie rear, fr(^m which he ])ulls out every 
 now and then, with a wooden shovel, a long cake of dirty- 
 looking bread, which he piles u}) on the counter before him 
 like so much cordwood cut into three-feet lengths. 
 
 Next to the baker a dealer in incense has his sho}). foi" the 
 incense merchant is an important personage in Jerusalem. 
 His wares come in cakes and sticks and broken nuggets, and 
 are of all varieties of flavor and spiciness. Next we see a 
 dealer in crucifixes aiul religious emblems, and hoi'riblo 
 pictures of the Sacred Heart. Still another shop is devoiefl 
 to rosaries ; Jind strings of beads of everv varietv and com- 
 plexion and substance of Avhich beads can be made are 
 displayed for sale. Then comes a Initcher's sho]), ])ossibly 
 with a grinning ;ind bloody calf s head protruding over the 
 doorway, as a sign of the goods that are kept within. 
 
 Here, too, are the dealers in the beautiful Bethlehem 
 mother-of-pearl work, in sih'er Avare of Damascus, and in- 
 numerable shoi)s where articles carved from olive wood may 
 be ]nirchased. At eveiy street corner is the money-changer 
 with his little pile of gold and silver and coi)per before him, 
 ready to turn your najioleons or [)oun(ls into chereks and 
 mejidieh at a most ruinous discount, for Shylock has his own 
 home here in Jerusalem, and will always take his pound of 
 flesh if he can net it. 
 
THE PASSING CROWD. 
 
 457 
 
 iu- 
 iimy 
 iger 
 him. 
 iuul 
 Dwn 
 (1 of 
 
 As we walk along the streets tlie })assers-ln' are (juite as 
 interesting as the shops on either liand. Here conies a lordly 
 Kavass, gorgeous in his red and yellow katileh, Avho carries 
 off his startlinff costume with the utmost diy^nitv. 
 
 There are few people in the woi'ld who can stand so much 
 barbaric ornamentation as the Syrian Kavass Avithout betray- 
 ing self-consciousness. Behind the Kavass, ])erhaps, is a 
 veiled beauty robed in white fi'om to]) to toe, with only her 
 black ey.-s peering out innn under the I'im of her head gear. 
 Sometimes she Avears a black mask of some thin material 
 draAvn ch)se!y aver her face, through Avhich she can see, but 
 behind Avhich she is utterly invisible to prying eyes that nuiy 
 look upon her. 
 
 In any other city it Avould be startling to see these white- 
 robed, black-masked creatures suddenly turn a corner u})on 
 the unsuspecting traveler. He almost imagines that he is in 
 the land of the '* Avhite ca])s,"' and that the masks mean mur- 
 der and robbery and all kinds of personal violence. I>ut the 
 maskers noiselesslv ciide awav Avithout offering to molest 
 the quietest of traA'elers. Behind them, perha))s, comes a 
 beffffar Avith a tale of Avoe not onlv committed to heart, but 
 often Avritten on his dirty, I'epulsive features as Avell. 
 
 There are, of course, no Avheeled vehicles Avithin the walls, 
 for the narrow streets Avould not admit of such carriages. 
 All the loads are carried by donkeys or camels, or on the 
 braAvny backs of men and women. Often we meetadoidcey 
 scarcely biggei' than a Xewfcmndland dog, with a big Turk 
 or Jew sitting far back, almost on its very tail, Avhile the 
 man's feet nearly drag on the ground at every step. These big 
 feet he keeps swaying l)ack and forth, and at every moA'e of 
 the poor little animal his ci'uel heels dig into the donkey's 
 side and urge him t(j further exertion. 
 
 The camels naturally have the right of Avav in these nar- 
 
458 
 
 CAMELS AND WATER CAKRIERS. 
 
 row roiuls. Their liuo'o Ijiilk ])reocc'upies the whole street. 
 The donkeys liave to make themselves small in side i)assage- 
 ways, while ])edestrians flatten themselves against the wall 
 on either side as hest thev can and let the splav-footed sliip 
 of the desert, with his sneei'ing undei' lij) and nose high in 
 air, showing contempt tor every smaller creature, pass through 
 at his leisui'e. 
 
 Behind the beugars and the camels often come the water- 
 carriers, their goat-skins almost 
 bursting with a dii'ty li(|uid 
 snp[)osed to he water, and that 
 dri))s u[)on the ground from 
 every tiny crevice. Add to 
 these olijects. she(>j) and many 
 dogs, and children, lying pro- 
 miscuously about the sti'eets in 
 every dirty doorway, and crowd- 
 ing evei'v sid(> alley fi'om wall 
 to wall, and you have some idea 
 of Jerusalem in its everyday 
 a])i)arel. 
 
 After all is said there is 
 1'%,'^^ something dignified and impres- 
 sive about man\' of the people 
 whom v.-e meet in the streets, 
 for the Syrian, though indolent 
 and deceitful, is polite and gen- 
 tlemanly at the same time. When he meets you and 
 desires a word, he will lay his right hand on his forehead, 
 lips, and head, for a moment, which means, in the expressive 
 symbolism in the country, ''in thought, word, and deed, I 
 am your servant." If he wishes to show special respect, he 
 will stoo[) down and then raise his right hand over his head, 
 
 A WATKH ( AlUilKU. 
 
SACKED ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 -i59 
 
 ro IS 
 
 )l'OS- 
 
 oon- 
 iind 
 
 'ct, he 
 head, 
 
 which luciins that he is casting (hist and ashes (n'er himself 
 as a mark of limiiility. J'lit he (h)es all this with such a 
 gracious and digiiided air that, sei'vile as are its syiuljols, ho 
 seems to be doing himself an honor (|uite as much as the one 
 to whom lie speaks. 
 
 Xow let us view the people of Jerusalem at their woi'shij), 
 for in the churches we find the chief characteristics of the 
 Holy City underscored and accentuated. 
 
 The fii'st church to which ahuost every traveler weiids 
 his way, is the Church of the IToly Sepulchre, and here are 
 crowchid together more traditions, relics, and sacred associa- 
 tions than in any ])laco of similar size in the world. Xot 
 that the traditions are for the most ])art trustwoi'thy, not 
 tiiat the saci'ed associations ai'(^ really associated with saci'ed 
 facts; not that the relics ar(> fi-ee from suspicion as to their 
 genuineness, but despite all this doubt and uncertainty, the 
 very fact that devout souls of many nations, however mis- 
 taken and superstitious, luive here fed tlieir faith and I'over- 
 ence for generations past, make it in some sense a holy 
 place to tliose who come after them in succeeding years. 
 
 Whatever may be the absolute facts in the case, and they 
 are very difficult to determine, millions of devout hearts have 
 believed that under the roof which covers the Church of the 
 Sepulchre is the spot where our Lord was crucilied, the 
 very stone on which he was laid for burial, the new tomb of 
 rock in which lie was placed when He tlescended into hades, 
 the stone on which He sat when He was crowned Avith 
 thorns and scourged with thongs, and the stocks in which 
 His feet were thrust during the cruel night of trial. 
 
 Every other sacred tradition which could find lodgment 
 has been crowded into this one spot, even to the tond) of 
 Adam himself, which is located liere. 
 
 To be sure, it is altogether probable that the place of 
 

 m 
 
 m 
 
 ' ill 
 
 
 i J 
 
 4G0 
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 
 
 crucifixi(jn w.is noui'ly halt' a mile away, outside the walls of 
 the ])resent city. The sacred })laces and relics within the 
 church rest upon a very shaky traihtion, to the eil'ect that 
 Helena, the mother of Constantine, had a dream that liei'e 
 she should find the true cross. Causin<>' her servants to di"- 
 in the place the dream indicated, she found not one cross, but 
 three, one of which s})oke to her, and by this token, she knew 
 that it was the true cross. 
 
 On this poor and meagre soil, which l)ears upon its very 
 face the nuirks of its untrustworthiness, are the traditions of 
 the sacred place built, and yet thev have been hallowed. 
 by the faith, the prayers, and tears, and rapturous joy of 
 myriads of pilgrims. 
 
 It is very sure that nea/' this place, if not upon this actual 
 site, our Lord suffered and bled and died. These monu- 
 ments which are here erected give the eye of faith something 
 visible to behold, and the heart something tangible to cling- 
 to, and, if one can but prevent his reverence from degener- 
 ating into superstitions awe, his soul will surely be blessed 
 by a visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. 
 
 One thing is certain, a sumptuously decorated church was 
 erected here in the early part of the fourth century, and even 
 then it Avas supposed to cover the Holy Sepulchre. 
 
 Many ui)s and downs, destructions, and rebuildings have 
 come to this famous church. In (il-f it was destroyed by the 
 Persians. It was immediately rebuilt and was over and over 
 again destroyed or greatly damaged by the Moslems. In 
 lOUU, the Crusaders entered the church, and what a ])ictur- 
 es(]ue sight it must have been when, barefooted and ragged* 
 but bearing crowns of palms and uttering songs of praise, in 
 the last vear of the eleventh century Avliich had seen such 
 heroic struggles to regain the holy city, they marched in 
 under the dome of the Church (jf the Holy Se})ulchre. 
 
VIGILANT TLKKIS?[ Gl'AKDS. 
 
 401 
 
 s have 
 ,y the 
 ul over 
 ■is. In 
 pictur- 
 
 nise, iu 
 
 Ml such 
 
 hed in 
 
 As can 1k' easily iiiiau'iiu'd, ihcy wci'c not content with 
 the inea<>Te Htth' chnrc! which th('\- found 'iuanUni'' the 
 holy tonil), so they enhii'^^vd it and heaiitilied it and built 
 many (.'hapels around it. 
 
 A century later tlu' Arabs nearly destroyed the buildings 
 once more. 
 
 .Vgain the wai'i'iors of the Thii'd Crusade rebuilt it. 
 
 Fifty years latei- it was again destroyed, only to bo 
 rebuilt (luring tlu' next half century. Thus it met with 
 many lluctuations of foi-tune. good and bad. until, in l^os, it 
 Avas entii'ely burned down, the dome fell in and eruslied the 
 chapel and almost nothing was saved except the east wing 
 of the building. Ihit two years later the (ireeks and Ar- 
 menians erected a new church, wliich is substantially the one 
 Avhicli we are now to visit. 
 
 As we entei'. the tirst persons whom we see are not the 
 ])ilgrims who have come from .;11 parts of the woi'ld to do 
 honor to their Lord, but the Turkish guards who have 
 charge of the i)lace. and we are sadly reminded of the fact 
 that the (iivek and Latin and Armenian (Mirisiians cannot 
 be trusted to live togetlu'r in unity, even within sight of the 
 ])lace of their Lord's supi'eme sutl'erings. but must be kej)t 
 i'l'om knocking each other's heads and cutting each other's 
 throats by a cordon of Mohammedan custodians, who ai'e 
 never able to relax their vigilance lest the Christians come 
 to blows. 
 
 The lirst sacred object that we see is the stone of unction 
 or anointment on which tiie body of Jesus is said to have 
 been laid when it was anointed l)y Xicodemus. 
 
 Let us recall the pathetii- story. "After this" (after 
 our Loi'd's death) says the Sacred Nan'ati\e, •'Joseph 
 of Arimathea being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly foi' fear 
 of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take away the 
 
 ?8 
 
 
 in 
 
4G2 
 
 WHERE THE BODY OF JEST'S WAS LAID. 
 
 ;■ 
 
 body of Josus, and Pilato gave liiiii leave, lie came, there- 
 fore, and took the b(jdy of Jesus, and there came also Xico- 
 demus, wliich at first came to Jesus by night, and brought a 
 mixture of myn-h and aloes, about an hundred ])()unds 
 Aveight, Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in 
 linen cloths with the spices, as the mjinner of the Jews is to 
 bury." 
 
 How often in imagination we have seen this pathetic 
 ])icture when just at twilight beside the new i-ock tomb these 
 two secret disciples of Jesus came to do their last reverence 
 to Him Avhom in life thev loved but never dared to own. 
 
 They Avere both noted men and mend^ers of the San- 
 hedrin. They both recognized in Jesus the si)otless Lamb of 
 God. Their hearts had l)een touched by His holy life and l)y 
 Ilis gentle words, l)ut not until He died foi' them and for all 
 the world Avere they willing to acknoAvledge their secret 
 faith. ]>ut then they came together, neither a])parently 
 knoAving of the other's intention, to bury Him avIio had re- 
 cei\'ed such scant rcA'erence in His life. And this Avas the 
 spot at Avhich tradition and the belief of innumerable eccles- 
 iastics said they met. And here on this stone over Avhicli 
 are burning many gold and silver lamps, thej^ reverently 
 hiid His body. 
 
 To be sure it detracts from our interest someAvhat to be 
 told l)y our guide-book that this stone has often been 
 changed and has been in the possession of numerous re- 
 liofious comnumities in succession. In the fifteenth centurv 
 it belonged to the Copts, in the sixteenth to the Gregorians, 
 from Avhom the Latins purchased permissions for 5,000 
 piastres to burn candles ii})on it. The present stone, this 
 same hard-hearted guide-booiv goes on to say, is of reddish 
 yellow marble, eight and a half feet long, four feet bi'oad, 
 and Avas placed here in 1808. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
THE ANGEL H ROOM. 
 
 4G3 
 
 to be 
 
 been 
 
 bus re- 
 
 illtlU'V 
 
 loritins, 
 
 5,0UU 
 
 le, this 
 
 leddisli 
 
 broad, 
 
 But wlhit care we for its dimensions to an incli ( AVlio 
 would care to know of its geolog-ic formation^ J low im- 
 pertinent are vul^-ar facts when we remember that upon 
 tliis stone have fallen the hot tears of hundreds of thousands 
 of ])iln'rims, that it has been ])assionately kissed hy myriads 
 of devoted lips, and has received the consecration vows 
 of a multitude of devout hearts whose creeds indeed are 
 different, but whose love for the su])reme Lord never wanes. 
 
 A pathetic touch t)f interest is added to this stone when 
 we remember that formerly pilgrims were in the habit of 
 measuring it with a view to having their winding sheets 
 made of the same length. 
 
 A few steps to the left of the stone of unction we see a 
 small enclosure built around a stone, which is said to mark a 
 spot where the women stood and watched the anointing of 
 Christ's body. 
 
 As we go on toward the center of the church we come to 
 the supreme object of worship, none other than the spot which 
 is believed to be the place where our Lord's body lay in its 
 rock cavern for three days. Over this spot is erected a 
 marble chapel which in some respects is Ijeautiful, but very 
 much marred for sober eyes by the amount of tinsel and the 
 number of gewgaws that are lavished upon it. 
 
 The first part of the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre is 
 called the Angel's Koom. In the center is a stone set in 
 marble, which our guide solemnly avers is the one which 
 the angel rolled away from the mouth of the sei)ulchre and 
 on which he afterwards sat. In this chapel are burning fif- 
 teen gold and silver lamps, five of whicii belong to the 
 Greeks, five to the Latins, four to the Armenians, and one to 
 the Copts, and the air is thick and heavy with burning in- 
 cense and other odors wliicli are more easy to imagine than 
 to describe. 
 
 W 
 
 H- 
 
 :iti 
 
 ill 
 
4(;4 
 
 INTERESTTNO T.VT ARSFRD TRADITIONS. 
 
 in 
 
 I)iit oven yet we liavo not come to tlio most holy place, 
 Tor, squeeziii*,'' through a wvy low and naiTow dooi" wliich is 
 merely ;k hole in the wall, in I'act, and through which one has 
 to hack in a vvvy uiulignilled attitude, we come to the chapel 
 of the sepulchre itself. 
 
 This is onl\' ahout six feet hv six and when ci'owded witli 
 half a do/.en i)eopU\ as it always is, it can be imagined that 
 even devotion and reverence does not allow one to tarry 
 h)ng, since the half dozen other pilgi'ims besides himself are 
 apt to be greasy llussians, dirty Copts, Jilthy Poles, or un- 
 washed Italians. 
 
 All around this central and most sacred chapel are other 
 chapels of less significance and holiness, but yet each one of 
 which enshi'ines some interesting tradition. Here, for in- 
 stance, is the cha])el of Saint Longinus, the soldier who 
 pierced Christ's side with his spear. The ti'adition says that 
 he had been blind of one eye, but that some of the water 
 and blood from the side of our Loi'd spurted into his blind 
 eye and he recovered sight, Avhereu{)on he repented and 
 became a Christian. Next is "The Cha})el of the Parting of 
 the liaiment," whose name indicates the tradition associated 
 with it. 
 
 Then "The Chai)el of the Ci'owning with Thorns," where 
 the very stone is shown on which Christ sat Avhen the cruel 
 thorns were crowded upon His brow. Here, also, are such 
 chajiels as Saint ]\Iary, dedicated to the Virgin, the chapel of 
 Adam, where traditi(jn says the first man was buried, though 
 how his bones came to be transported to Palestine nobody 
 seems to know. J>ut no ti'adition is too wild (3r absui'd for the 
 credulous ])e()])le who cluster here to believe, and they 
 solemnly assure us that when Christ was crucified Ilis blood 
 flowed through a cleft in the rock on to the head of Adam, 
 and he was immediately restored to life. 
 
r, 
 
 THE TKADITIONAI. (iOl.CJOTHA. 
 
 4(15 
 
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 where 
 ^ cruel 
 V such 
 lapel of 
 though 
 uobody 
 
 fortlie 
 il they 
 is bh)oil 
 
 Adain, 
 
 But as if it was not enough to hury A«hini here or to 
 invent all kinds of silly tnulitions about our great forefathei', 
 they have placed the tomb of ^felchizedek here also. We 
 have not yet come to the most sacred spot, for the traditional 
 Golgotha yet remains to be visited. 
 
 Catholic historians have phiced not only the tomb and the 
 place of Christ's suffering, but ]\[ount Calvary itself within 
 the limits of this sanctuarv. It nuiv verv naturallv be asked 
 by the reailer how this can be, since the I'ible distinctly tells 
 us that Christ suffered '• without the walls." 
 
 The Papal histoi'ian, howevei", is ready with his answer, 
 for he tells us that in the former times the site of this church 
 was outside of the second walls of Jerusalem, and that the 
 modern walls do not conform to the ancient ])redecessors. 
 This statement, however, must be received with a very lai'ge 
 interrogation jioint, and it has been recently proved, all but 
 conclusively, by modern scholars, that the ])i'esent walls 
 follow the ancient outlines very nearly, and that the site of 
 the church of the Holy Se})ulchre could not by any possi- 
 bility ever have been found without the Avails of the city. 
 
 However, as we said before, this s[)ot has been hallowed 
 by the faith of innumerable Christians whose belief was sup- 
 ported, at least in ancient times, by very scholarly authority. 
 Hundreds of books have been written on the subject to prove 
 that this was the veritable spot where our Lord bled, suffered, 
 and died, and even the tradition-breaking Protestant need 
 not be too eager to disillusionize the world when he comes 
 within these sacred precincts. 
 
 Here in the living rock we see an opening faced with 
 silver, where the cross on which our Lord died Avas said to 
 be inserted. Five feet distant on either side are the ci'osses 
 of the two thieves, the penitent thief on the right and the 
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 406 
 
 THE RIVEN ROCK. 
 
 covered with a brass slide, is the cleft in the rock about 
 which Saint Matthew tells us in these solemn words : " Jesus, 
 when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the 
 ghost ; and, behold the veil of the temple was "rent in twain 
 from the top to the bottom, and the earth did quake, and the 
 rocks rent, and the graves were opened, and many bodies of 
 the saints which slept arose and came out of the graves after 
 His resurrection and went into the Holy City, and appeared 
 unto many." 
 
 This cleft is said by the superstitious to reach to the very 
 center of the earth, although the practical e3'e of the scien- 
 tific man says it is only about six inches deep. 
 
 As I have said, when we visited the Holy Sepulchre it 
 was not on a feast day. but on one of the ordinary Sundays 
 of the year, and yet it was a strange and striking scene 
 which Ave beheld even then. The whole floor of the church 
 seemed to be filled with black-bearded priests in gorgeous 
 vestments and jeweled robes, from which the flashing light 
 of the innumerable lamps glanced and sparkled. With 
 solemn intonations and measured tread they marched about 
 the Holy Sepulchre, slowly waving their golden lamps and 
 their jeweled vases, from which the smoking incense curled 
 up in dense clouds to heaven. 
 
 Back and forth and around they marched, solemnly 
 chanting their dirges, while the wondering crowd, gathered 
 from every quarter of the world, looked on in awe-struck 
 silence. 
 
 Here were Koords in their sheep-skins, Russians in their 
 pilgrim rags, Armenians in their picturesque meal-bag-like 
 garments, Greeks in thf^iv curious hats and skirts, Europeans 
 of every degree of civilization, and Asiatics of every degree 
 of barbarism. And yet all were drawn together by a com- 
 mon sentiment. 
 
QUARRELSOME PILGRIMS. 467 
 
 Though they sometimes fall out and fight among them- 
 selves like cats and dogs, yet, after all, there is a common 
 purpose manifested to honor the common Lord, and to do 
 reverence to Ilim who died for all the world. We can 
 almost forgive their wranglings and disputings as we see 
 the genuine devotion which seems to fill many of the hearts 
 that beat under the rough and ragged pilgrim's garb. There 
 must be something of good even in the most ignorant and 
 suspicious of them all, to bring them on this long and toil- 
 some pilgrimage for the sake of doing reverence to Ilim to 
 whom their hearts are blindly reaching out. 
 
 If we have some regard, however, for the pilgrims them- 
 selves, we have very little patience with the priests and relig- 
 ious leaders who Avork on their superstitions and trade on 
 their prejudices. 
 
 On Easter are often enacted many disorderly scenes, 
 which produce a painful impression Avhen the Church 
 of the Sepulchre is crowded with pilgrims of e^ cry nctiou- 
 ality, and especially when the so-called miracle of the " holy 
 fire " is produced. " On this occasion thu church is always 
 crowded with spectators," we are told. '' It is said that the 
 priests besmear the wire by Avhich the lamp is suspended 
 over the sepulchre with resinous oil, and that this oil is set 
 on fire from the roof. Large sums are paid to the priests by 
 those who are the first to on allowed to light their tapers 
 from the sacred flame sent from heaven. The wild and 
 noisy scene begins on Good Friday. The crowd passes the 
 night in the church in order to secure places, some of thein 
 attaching themselves by cords to the sepulchre, while others 
 run round it in anything but a reverential manner. 
 
 " About two o'clock on Easter afternoon a procession of 
 the superior clergy moves around the sepulchre, all lamps 
 having been carefully extinguished in view of the crowd. 
 
468 
 
 TIIK DKSCKNT OF TIIK HACKED FF.AME. 
 
 Tlio jMiti'iiU'cli ciilci's tlic cliiijx'l of the scpulcliro, wliili' llio 
 priests ])riiy aiKl tli(! jx'oplo arc in the utmost siis|)('nso. 
 
 '•At lon<^tli the lii'c \vlii(;li lias conic down li-oiii licavcii 
 ^Uuiiiis tVom tlio s('|)iilclii'(>, Wnt jH'iests oinoi'^'(! with u l)iin«llo 
 of burniiif^' tajmrs and tlioru now follows an indescribable 
 tumult, ev(M'y one endeavoring^ to be the first tog(!t iiista|)er 
 li<^hted. Even from the oallorv, tapers are \vt down to be 
 lighted, and in a few seconds, the whole chui'cih is illuminated. 
 Tills however, nevei' happens without Ht^htini^-, and accidents 
 generally occur owin«^' to the ci'ush." 
 
 In ls;54an awful accident occui'i-chI. Six thousand ])eo- 
 ])le w(M'e in the church, when the Turkish <^uards, thinking 
 they were attacked, sjn'ang upon the pilgrims, beat many of 
 them to (loath, and in the scullh^ that followed, three hun- 
 <lr(>d lives w(!r(i lost. 
 
 Vet, with all these excrescences and uni)l«!asant nanifes- 
 tations of religious zeal and fanaticism, it must be remem- 
 bered that there is s<»mething intensely real to all thesis pil- 
 grims in tli(!S(! traditional sights. People do not undtn'go 
 sufferings to se(! that which tli((y do not believe with intense 
 devotion. They will not light foi- that which does not a])i)eal 
 strongly to their faith and love, and oven the disgraceful 
 riots which have bl(>tted the historv of the Church of the 
 Holy S(!pulclire more than once, show the abiding strength 
 and dominating inlku^nco of the cross of Christ over the lives 
 of the woi'ld's millions. 
 
 
crrAPTEU XXV. 
 
 A MKMOKAIJLK WAf.K. 
 
 Tlio Via Dolorosa — Fourteen Htat ions on tlio Way to tiio CVoss — St. Veron- 
 ica and jler Ilandiu'rcliiel' — Sonu; 'roiichiii^r InseriptionH — Outside llij 
 (Jates — Our (Jolwotiia — " Tile (Jreen Mill Fur Away." Oellisemaiie — 
 Tli(! Stone of Treason — A Wondcjriul View — Our liord's IJroken- 
 Hearled Lament- The Itus.siiin Tow(!r — Tlui Deud Sea — A Marvelous 
 Mirror— AhsalonrsTonih—Tlu! Fate of an Unlllial Heprohale — Tliu 
 cave of Adullani — Neiio and Its Lonely (iriive— The Village of Mary and 
 Martha— ThiMJreate.st Miracle of the A^cs— " Dis Way to de Tonii) 
 of Lazar()os" — Th(! Wretched Inhahitants of Modern Metlmiiy — The 
 Tomb of Itachel — When! Our Lord was Horn — Tht; Marble Cradle — 
 An Imi)re.sHivt' Si;,'ht— Wran^'linjir Christians — Turki.sh Guards at Our 
 Lord's Cradle — A Sad Suggestion. 
 
 NE of tlio most improssivo and 
 )n(!inonil)l<5 walks that wo took 
 within the Holy ( 'ity IchI us alon<r 
 th(i Via Dolorosa, thron<,'h St. 
 Stephen's gate, thenco out to tho 
 Mount of Olives and I{<^thany. 
 H(!l'or(5 W(! IcNive tlus sacrcid city, 
 let us all take sueii a walk to- 
 gether. 
 
 This traditional "Street of 
 Pain " HovAUH worthy of its name, 
 f<M' i'. is a dark and gloomy road- 
 way, arched overhead through much of its cours(i with 
 vaulted roofs, and reminding one at almost avory footste[) of 
 the sulfering and indignities (uidured by the Son of Man. 
 To bo sure, the ancient Way of tho Cross, even if it fol- 
 
 (40!)) 
 
' 
 
 470 
 
 ALONG THE WAY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 lowed the general line of the modern street, which is b}' no 
 rieans certain, must have been many feet below the surface 
 of the present roadway, for the accumulated rubbish of the 
 ages and the many sieges to which Jerusalem has been sub- 
 ject have buried the old city from ten to forty feet below the 
 modern city. 
 
 However, from very early centuries, the way which our 
 
 Lord took as He bore 
 the cross to his own 
 crucifixion, has been 
 supposed to follow 
 the general direction 
 of this street. 
 
 Ecclesiastical au- 
 thorities have estab- 
 lished what they call 
 " stations," at points 
 which are supposed 
 to represent some 
 particular event in 
 the sad journey of 
 Jesus to the cross. 
 There are fourteen of 
 these stations in all. 
 
 A STKKICT IN .JEUl'SALKM. 
 
 One of them indicates the spot where Simon of Cyrene took 
 the cross from Christ. Another where St. Veronica wij)ed 
 the sweat from our Saviour's brow, the image of his face 
 being imprinted on her handkerchief forever afterwards. 
 The eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth stations, 
 are in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre itself, to wliich the 
 Via Dolorosa leads, and show where our Lord was nailed to 
 the cross, where He was taken from the cross, and finally 
 where He was laid in the new rock tomb. 
 
INSCRIPTIONS ON THE WALLS. 
 
 in 
 
 Tliough they do not add to the authenticity of the events 
 recorded, yet the Latin sentences with wliich many of these 
 Stations are marked, add a certain dignity and appearance of 
 reality to the street. For instance, a tablet on the house 
 which is called the House of Pontius Pilate reads as follows: 
 
 Ad Arcum Ecce Homo 
 Vbi Pontius Pilatm 
 Christum 
 Judms Tmdidit ut crucijigeretur 
 
 A little farther on, a marble slab let into the rough Avail of 
 the street tells us : 
 
 Locus ill quo 
 Appvehendit Pilatus Jesum 
 et Flagellant. 
 
 While near the outer gate we find the inscription : 
 
 Et Milites Piece ntes Coronam 
 De Spinis imposuerunt. 
 
 All this sonorous Latin simply tells us the story which in 
 simple language we have read a thousand times in the Xine- 
 teenth chapter of John, where the beloved disciple tells us 
 that " Pilate therefore took Jesus and scourged Him and the 
 soldiers platted a crown of thorns and put it upon Ilis head. 
 And they put on Ilim a purple robe, and said. Hail, King of 
 the Jews, and they smote Him with their hands. Pilate, 
 therefore, went forth again and said unto them, Behold I 
 bring Him forth to you that you may knou- that I find no 
 fault in Him. Then came Josus forth wearing tlie crown of 
 thorns, and the purple robe, and Pilate said unto them, 
 Behold the man." 
 
 Now we are not far from the wall of the city, and pass- 
 ing out through St. Stephen's gate, which is surrounded by 
 cripples, lepers, and beggars in all stages of dilapidation and 
 
472 
 
 THE HILL OF THE CRUCIFIXION. 
 
 disease, we find ourselves in an instant out of the reeking 
 streets of tiie filthy city in the sunlight and fresh air of 
 God's wide country. 
 
 Over there, a little to the left, we see the site upon which 
 modern Protestant scholars are largely agreed is the site of 
 the crucifixion and burial of Christ. There, indeed, is the 
 " ffreen hill far awav, without the citv wall." There is the 
 gently rounding hilltop which might well be called by the 
 picturesque and imaginative Orientals " the place of the 
 skull." There, underneath this hillside, near to the reputed 
 grotto of Jeremiah, is a rock tomb, hewn out of the solid 
 stone, a tomb which has never been finished, and which 
 answers in every particular to what we might expect of 
 Joseph's new tomb. 
 
 Here our imagination is fully satisfied. Here our feelings 
 of reverent devotion ask for nothing more. There is no 
 gaudy church with its tinsel and its second-rate paintings, its 
 mosaics and its incense-scented chapels to distract our minds 
 and weary our senses. No quarreling bands of hostile 
 Christians, no Moslem guards to keep the peace are liere 
 required, no gorgeously bedecked priests to distract our 
 thoughts from the Man of Sorrows whom they ignorantly 
 worship, and whose life of suffering for mankind they, with 
 their elaborate ceremonials, obscure rather than illumine. 
 
 Here is nothing over our heads but the blue arch of 
 heaven, a few fleecy clouds sailing across it. Under our feet 
 is the green grass of springtime, the daisies and the anem- 
 ones, the lilies of the valley, and all the flowers of the field 
 "with which our Lord so often illustrated His discourses. 
 
 To be sure, on this very hill are some Mohammedan' 
 tombs which at first seem to desecrate our Golgotha, but, as 
 we think of it, we remember that if it were not for these 
 tombs this hill would doubtless have been covered with 
 
THE GARDEN OF CiETHSEMANE. 
 
 473 
 
 buildings and the site eiitirelv lost for nuinv lienemtions 
 before modern sclioliirs could have identified it as the sjjot 
 ■where our Saviour sutfered His last agony ; so from this jmint 
 of view we may consider these ^Moslem tomljs a blessing in 
 disguise, for wlierever a Molianimedan is buried his country- 
 men regard it a sacred ground for all the future ages. 
 
 But sweet as are tiie associations of this liallowed hill we 
 cannot always linger here, Ijut must go on down the road 
 which leads us across the Valley of KeiU'on and then up the 
 slopes of the Mount of Olives. 
 
 On the further side of the vallev we see a small grove of 
 dark and gloomy cypress trees, and, near by, a number of 
 gnarled and twisted olive trees. Almost by intuition we say 
 to ourselves this nmst be the Garden of Gethsemane ; and 
 so it is. 
 
 This is one of the sacred places about Avhich there is com- 
 paratively little dis{)ute. To be sure, the claim of the monk 
 who shows us the garden, that these great olive trees with 
 trunks " burst from age and shored uj) with stones " date 
 from the time of Christ, may not be true, and it is possil)lo 
 that tlie actual garden which saw the bloody sweat of our 
 Lord, and witnessed his agonv and arrest mav not have been 
 upon this very spot ; but, undoubtedly, it was near to this 
 spot, and it requires no stretch of imagination to believe that 
 the checkered moonlight fell through the branches and 
 leaves of these very olive trees on the night when the 
 disciples could not keep open their sleepy eyes to Avatch with 
 our Lord " even one hour." 
 
 "We can readily believe that at this very spot which is 
 pointed out to us, marked to-day by the fragment of a stone 
 column, the treacherous Judas kissed our Lord, and received 
 therefor his thirt}'^ pitiful pieces of silver. 
 
 A sharp climb of fifteen minutes brings us to the top of 
 
474 A SCENE OF SURPASSING BEAUTY. 
 
 the Mount of Olives from the garden of Gethseniane. "When 
 about half way up the hill we turn around and the magnifi- 
 cent view bursts upon our eyes. Tlu'i't^ is the Holy City en- 
 closed by its four-square walls. There is Jerusalem, "the 
 jo}"^ of the whole earth." It is builded "as a city which is 
 compact together." Its squalidness and wretchedness are no 
 longer visible. The filth of its narrow streets is forgotten. 
 Its walls from this distance look indeed like the ramparts of 
 Zion. Its churches and moscjues dominate it with a lordly 
 air, and even its stone houses, which look so mean and 
 squalid on near approach, have from this point almost the 
 look of palaces as the afternoon sun and the clear air of 
 Pales Line lend their enchantment to them. 
 
 It is indeed a scene of surpassing beaut}", and here, accord- 
 ing to one of the best authenticated traditions, our Lord 
 stood when he looked with love and pity upon the sacred 
 city, while the hot tears fell upon his cheeks, as he cried out, 
 "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, 
 the things which belong unto thy j)eace ! " Then his emotion 
 overcame him. He could not continue the sentence, but, with 
 choking voice, he added, after a momentary pause, as he 
 thought of the awful destruction which awaited the beautiful 
 city, " But now are they hid from thine eyes. 
 
 " For the day shall come upon thee, that thine enemies 
 shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and 
 keep thee in on every side. 
 
 " And shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy 
 children within thee; ard they shall not leave in thee one 
 stone upon another; beci;use thou knewest not the time of 
 thy visitation." 
 
 But now Ave will turn our eyes upward and climb the 
 Mount of Olives once more. In a few moments we find our- 
 selves upon its very summit. 
 
UPON THE MOUNT OF OLIVES. 
 
 475 
 
 thy 
 
 lone 
 le of 
 
 the 
 lour- 
 
 The highest point of the hill is 2,723 feet above the sea 
 level, so that by ordinary geograpiiical measurements it is 
 no slight elevation, but deserves the name of mountain. 
 When compared with the neighboring city of Jerusalem, 
 however, it is not a lofty hill, for it rises but 190 feet higher 
 tlian the temple plateau which we recently visited, and 
 where now is found the mosque of Omar. 
 
 For many centuries the Mount of Olives has been con- 
 sidered the spot from which Christ ascended into Heaven, 
 but Luke seems to contradict this idea, for he tells us that 
 He led them out "as far as Bethany and lifted up His hands 
 and blessed them. And it came to pass while He blessed 
 them that He was parted from them and carried up into 
 Heaven." Now Bethany is a good half mile on the other 
 side of the Mount of Olives. However, if this is not the 
 place of the ascension of Christ, the Mount of Olives has 
 sufficient historical and sacred attractions to satisfy the most 
 exacting, and the view from the top is one of the most 
 magnificent and attention-compelling which can be found in 
 any part of the world. 
 
 The Russians have built a high tower on the very crest 
 of the hill whose top is reached by a narrow, winding stair- 
 case. It is a hard climb which takes us to the top of this 
 bell tower, but it well repays us for our trouble. Surely 
 from no spot in the world can be seen so much of lasting 
 and touching interest to all mankind. 
 
 Hour after hour can we spend on the top of this tower 
 and still find food for our imaginations, stimulus for our 
 highest religious aspirations, and memory photographs 
 which never fade, of sacred historical sights such as no other 
 view in the world can give. To the west is the view of the 
 Holy City which we have already seen at the point where 
 Christ our Lord wept over it, only it is more magnificent 
 
47G 
 
 JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 still from this liigli perch wiiich we have iittaiiiod. Beyond 
 stretciies the land of .hiduh and the land of I'enjaniiii, run- 
 ning into the country of the riiilistines, which borders the 
 seacoast towards Jalfa. 
 
 To the east is an entirely dilferent scene, but one scarcely 
 less striking-, Deadness and sterility, a treeless and aj)i)ar- 
 entlv uninhabited waste "reets the eve. These are the hills 
 of Moab m the far distance, and there, just this side of these 
 mountains, a silver ribbon which glances and glitters in the 
 sunlight, shows us where the rij)|)ling waters of tiie Jordan 
 are making their way to the Dead Sea, which looks in the 
 afternoon sunlight like a huge mirror lying at the base of 
 the frowning mountains of !Moab. 
 
 It is imi)ossible to believe that we cannot reach this sea 
 of glass by a Avalk of an hour, or at the most of two hours, 
 across tlie hills and valleys that lie between us and it, and 
 when we are told that it is a hard horseback ride <jf full 
 seven hours over barren and uninhabitable hills, and that 
 that strip of looking-glass is almost four thousand feet below 
 our present altitude, we are still more surprised, but we 
 are obliged to take the word of geographers, surveyors, ami 
 travelers who have actuallv made the distance, rather than 
 our own unauthenticated im])ressions. That little lake, 
 gleaming in the sunlight, is none other than the Dead Sea, 
 one of the most extraordinary bodies of water in all the 
 earth. It has no outlet, as is well known, but the lake is 
 kept at its present level by the evaporation of the sun, 
 which day after day sucks up thousands of tons of water 
 from this intensely hot hole in the surface of the earth. 
 
 The dimensions of the sea and its volume of Avater are 
 constantly growing snudler and its density is growing 
 greater. No fish can swim in its brin\'^ waves, but few birds 
 flit along its barren shores, and the traveler who t;dves a 
 
"WHERE SHEPHERDS WATCHED THEIR FLOCKS." 477 
 
 tluit 
 )el()\v 
 we 
 and 
 than 
 lake, 
 Sea, 
 II the 
 
 :er are 
 'owin^r 
 V birds 
 akes a 
 
 mornin*? bath in its heavy waters lintls tliat he cannot sink, 
 and that when ho comes out he is covered by a saline in- 
 crustation, which makes him think that he may possibly be a 
 relative of Lot's unfortunate wife. 
 
 Off to the north 
 we can catch a 
 glimpse of Ik'thle- 
 hem and the plains 
 where the shep- 
 herds kept their 
 flocks l)y nig-ht, and 
 whe"e they heard 
 out of the blue 
 heavens the yloi'ia 
 in excehis. 
 
 Just at the foot 
 of the hill, but out 
 of sight because it 
 is so near, is the 
 little town of Beth- 
 any, which we re- 
 mem ber as the 
 place that of all 
 others Christ loved 
 the best. 
 
 On the other 
 
 side of the hill 
 
 toward Jerusalem, 
 
 also hidden by its 
 
 very nearness, is the Olive Garden of Gethsemane which 
 
 we have just visited, and the reputed tomb of Absalom, at 
 
 which every devout Jew throws a stone as an indication of 
 
 his detestation of filial impietv. It is said that this tomb is 
 S9 
 
 ABSALOM S TOMB. 
 
I 
 
 478 
 
 THE VALLEY OF JEHOSHAPHAT. 
 
 the same one spoken of in Second Samuel: "IS^ow Absalom 
 in his lifetime had taken and reared up for himself a pillar 
 "which is in the king-'s dale, for he said, I have no son to keep 
 my name in remembrance, and he called the pillar after his 
 own name, and it is called unto this day Absalom's place." 
 
 If this is indeed the tomb which Absalom Imilt it has 
 served its purpose better than he perhaps intended, for while 
 it has preserved his name it has at the same time preserved 
 it as the name of an ungrateful, heartless, reprobate son, the 
 scorn and derision of every one who passes by, and none can 
 express their contempt in any way more striking than by 
 flinging a derisive stone at the pillar which its builder fondly 
 thought would keep his name in grateful remembrance. 
 
 Here near by, also, is the tomb of Jehoshaphat and St. 
 James, and all the monuments and memories which crowd 
 so full the Valley of Jehoshaphat. Not far away is the hill 
 of Herod, as it is called, and, underneath, the cave of Adul- 
 1am, where three thousand years ago David collected "every 
 one that was in distress, and every one that was in debt, and 
 every one that was discontented, and became a captain over 
 them," and formed them into the nucleus of what was after- 
 wards his conquering and irresistible army. 
 
 As we look far off towards the south we see the hilltop 
 Mizpeh where Samuel judged the Children of Israel, and 
 where he won such a signal victory over the Philistines, for 
 here we are told, " And as Samuel Avas offering up the burnt 
 offering, the Philistines drew near to battle against Israel : 
 but the Lord thundered with a great thunder on that day 
 upon the Philistines, and discomfited them; and they were 
 smitten before Israel. 
 
 " Then Samuel took a stone, and set it between Mizpeh 
 and Shen, and called the name of it Eben-ezer, saying, 
 Hitherto hath the Lord helped us. 
 
SACRED MEMORIES. 
 
 470 
 
 "And Samuel judged Israel all the years of his life. 
 
 "And he went from year to year in circuit to Bethel, 
 and Gilgal, and Mizpeh, and judged Israel in all those 
 places." 
 
 Thus our eyes are surfeited with wondrous sights and 
 our memories are wearied to recall everything that has made 
 these places memorable. 
 
 But before we descend from the tower, our eyes sweep 
 around once more to the narrow Jordan and the glittering 
 Dead Sea, and rest upon the bleak mountains of Moab. 
 Among them is one hilltop of surpassing interest. There on 
 Mount Nebo, four thousand feet above the Dead Sea which 
 lies at its base, the great lawgiver of Israel looked upon 
 the Promised Land whicli he was never to enter. 
 
 Going down the sacred hill toward the east, crossing a 
 gentle spur, and following a winding path across flowery 
 fields, Ave come at last to a village which perhaps centers 
 within itself more touching sacred memories than any other 
 spot in all the region, for in this village was the home of 
 Mary and Martha, whose door was so often left ajar for 
 Christ to enter. 
 
 Here was the house of Simon the Leper where IMary 
 washed the blessed feet that continually went about doing 
 good, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Here, 
 too, Lazarus lived, and in this little hamlet the greatest 
 miracle of the ages was wrought when Lazarus heard the 
 Divine voice saving to him in the tomb, "Come forth." 
 
 But alas, the passing centuries have taken all the poetry 
 and romance out of this little hamlet. The natural in- 
 dolence of the inhabitants, their hopeless lives, for many 
 generations ground down under the heel of the Turks, and 
 their unenterprising, fanatical disposition, have all contrib- 
 uted to make this at the present day as squalid, mean, and 
 
480 
 
 AN OVER-SUPPLY OF GUIDES. 
 
 uninteresting a town as can be found in any one of the five 
 continents wliicli we are visiting together. 
 
 As Ave neared the village we passetl a group of ragged, 
 filtln', sore-eyed specimens of humanity, s(puitting on the 
 ground near an old, dilapidated tent, where they had been 
 lazilv baskin*!; in the sunshine. Thev were eni>'a<?ed in the 
 interesting task of simultaneously extending their dirty 
 hands into the one and only dish that contained their food. 
 They stretched out their gaunt, diseased hands to us, crying 
 '• backsheesh,'" the only Avord, apparently, which they knew 
 and Avhicli stood for the onlv thing; thev cared for. 
 
 What is Mary or Martha, Lazarus or Simon to them, 
 except so many pretexts for extorting more backsheesii from 
 the traveler who comes their way i "What is Christ himself, 
 except a personage Avhose Avondrous attractiveness turns 
 the feet of many a pilgrim BethanyAvard, and giA^es these 
 petty robbers a chance to practice their arts upon a fresh 
 set of travelers every day ? 
 
 HoAvever, they knoAv the stock places of interest in their 
 A'^illage by heart, and, starting up from all sides, they run on 
 before the ])ilgrims crying out, "• Tliees Avay, thees Avay to de 
 house of Mary and Marrta," rolling their r's Avith great 
 A'igor, and vociferating and gesticulating as only Orientals 
 can, lest some one else should capture their travelers and 
 show them the way. 
 
 '' Dis way to de tomb of Lazaroos, dis Avay to de tomb of 
 Lazaroos," cries a shrill treble voice in our ear, as a little 
 damsel not more than eight or nine years old came skipping 
 over the rough stones, eagerly pressing upon us the fact that 
 she Avill be our ffuide to the tomb of Marv's brother. 
 
 All that Ave have to do is to follow the crowd, for all 
 Bethany seems ready to act as our guide this morning, and 
 every one knows as well as Ave Avhere we wish to go. 
 
trreat 
 
 jmb of 
 little 
 
 dipping 
 ct that 
 
t 
 
THE HOUSE OF MARY AND MARTHA. 
 
 483 
 
 . So followino; our many cicerones we soon come to a 
 dilapidated ruin into which we are a(hnitted by a small 
 wooden gate. This, we are assured by a chorus of voices, is 
 none other than the liouse of Mary and Martha. We are 
 not prepared to dispute the fact, for it is as likely a place for 
 the residence of the famous sisters as any in the village. It 
 is perhaps a shade more clean and respectaljle than any 
 other ruin in the vicinity, but 
 we are very conlident that in 
 the days of old, Martha left no 
 such piles of rubbish and gar- 
 bage at her front door as now 
 decorate it; that she kept the 
 dead cats and live donkeys off 
 her premises, and that the blear- 
 eyed children who now clamber 
 all over her dining-room and 
 parlor walls would have been 
 obliged to wash their faces and 
 comb their hair before she ad- 
 mitted them Avithin her doors 
 in the days of old. 
 
 The tomb of Lazarus is 
 equally disappointing and per- 
 haps no more authentic. The 
 narrow entrance shows us a long flight of stairs which 
 leads us down into the very bowels of the earth, and, here, 
 by the aid of a smoky, flaring taper and a vigorous imagina- 
 tion Ave are supposed to see the place where for four days the 
 body of Lazarus lay before the Redeemer's voice put life and 
 vigor into the decaying limbs. 
 
 Bethany is decidedly disappointing from every point of 
 vieWj and does not invite us to linger long Avithin its wretched 
 
 A BEDOUIX WOMAN. 
 
484 
 
 A DISCOURAGED PROPHET. 
 
 I 
 
 H 
 
 III ' 
 
 V 
 
 streets. Since Ave stay here so short a time, we can on this 
 same day visit Bethlehem, wliich lies on the other side of 
 Jerusalem, about an hour and a half by carriage from the 
 gates of the city. 
 
 The road from Jerusalem lies over rocky hills Avliich are 
 spotted here and there with little patches of soil, laboriously 
 enclosed by rocks, where some scanty crops are raised by 
 the primitive agricultural methods of the day. Half-way 
 
 HACIIEL 8 TOMB. 
 
 out to Bethlehem, we see the place where it is supposed 
 Elijah lay down under the juniper tree and asked to die. He 
 must have lain down with considerable force, one would 
 think, for he has left a hole in the solid rock about the size 
 of a man's body, which is pointed out as the very spot where 
 he threw himself down in his unrighteous despair. 
 
 A little further on we come to the tomb of Rachel, w^hich 
 is better authenticated than most historic sites in the vicinity. 
 It is a place greatly reverenced, especially by the Jew^. 
 Fortunately, the custodian of the tomb was there w^hen we 
 
BETHLEHEM OF SONG AND STORY. 
 
 485 
 
 ■went by, and we enjoyed tlie privilege whicli many travelers 
 do not have, of entering the torn!) and seeing the great rocR 
 sepulchre in which it is not altogether improbable that the 
 beloved wife of Jacob is still resting. 
 
 " And Rachel died,'' says the sacred narrative, *' and was 
 buried in the way to Ephrath, which is liethlehem. And 
 Jacob set a ]>illar upon her grave ; that is the pillar of 
 Ilachel's grave unto this day." 
 
 Not many minutes beyond this historic toml) we see a 
 long, straggling Eastern village, and our pulses beat a little 
 quicker as we remember that this is none other than Bethle- 
 hem, Bethlehem of prophecy and of history, Bethlehem of 
 song and story, Bethlehem Ej)hrata, of which it Avas said 
 seven hundred years before our Lord Avas born, " Though 
 thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee 
 shall He come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel, 
 whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting." 
 
 The town now contains about five thousand inhabitants, 
 most of them Christians, but among them only fifty Protes- 
 tant Christians. Here, the Latins and Greeks and Armeni- 
 ans all possess huge monasteries, and the inhabitants live by 
 raising cattle, by making images of saints and fancy articles 
 in olive Avood, mother-of-pearl, and coral. The one supremely 
 interesting spot in this little town is coA'ered by the Church 
 of Saint Mary, Avhicli is erected over the traditional birth- 
 place of Christ. 
 
 Our carriage rattles doAvn through the principal street, 
 OA'er the horribly rough ])avements Avhich sometimes give out 
 altogether, and are only replaced by holes and hummocks 
 Avhich threaten to break every spring in the wagon. But 
 the driver paid no attention to such little obstacles. He 
 wants to show off to the best advantage, and cracking his 
 whip and urging on his horses, he files through the narrow 
 
" 
 
 48G 
 
 THE PLACE OF THE NATIVITY. 
 
 streets, while the inhiibitunts fl.'ttten themselves against the 
 ■walls to escape his tlireatenin*^- wheels. Finally, he brings 
 U}) with a great Hourisli in front of the aforesaid Cliurch of 
 Saint Marv, or, of '' The Nativitv," as it is usuallv called. 
 
 Of course the exact sites which are liere ])ointed out are, 
 in all ]>rol)ability, spurious. Some of them are manifest 
 absurdities, and yet, very near to this spot, and (juite i)roba- 
 
 bly within the space that is 
 covered by the roof of this 
 church, the Redeemer of Man- 
 kind was born. Here we can 
 afford to give our imagina- 
 tions full play and need not 
 try to curb our religious emo- 
 tions. 
 
 After passing through a 
 church which is grandly sim- 
 ple in its design, we come to 
 the Chapel of the Kativity 
 St itself. The pavement is of 
 mar])le and the walls also are 
 lined with marble, while under 
 the altar a silver star marks 
 the place of Jesus' birth. The 
 inscription tells us : " llic de 
 Yivquxe Maria Jesus Christus natus est.'''' 
 
 For centuries and centuries, devout hearts have traveled 
 hither to worship at the cradle of our Lord, and from the 
 time of Constantino this spot has been richly decorated, 
 and golden lamps with their undying flame are constantly 
 swinging over the silver star. 
 
 Near by is the Chapel of the Manger, where the marble 
 cradle of Christ is pointed out to us. It does not meet our 
 
 A GIRL OF JCDEA. 
 
GUARDING THE CRADLE OF OUR LORD. 
 
 487 
 
 ideas, liowevor, of the rou<^li stall from which the horses fed, 
 and which Protestant Christians always associate witii tiie 
 birtii of the Iledeemer. 
 
 "While we were lookin'j' at these relics, twentv-one Fran- 
 ciscan monks came into the chapel, carrying huge candles 
 and chanting the praises of the Virgin ^Marv. Behind them 
 followed a priest arrayed in most gorgeous vestments, and 
 followed by two attendants. As the priest ap[)roached the 
 place of the Nativity, he took a golden censer in his hand, 
 and then from a silver vase he took some powdered incense 
 and with a golden spoon sprinkled it on the living coals. 
 
 The fragrant smoke curled up to heaven, while the monks 
 chanted, and the priests with rhythmical motion swung the 
 golden censer, and the thirty-one lamps of gold and silver 
 shed their subdued light upon the scene. But even while we 
 looked we could see the o-rim figure of a Turkish soldier sta- 
 tioned beside the marble cradle itself to keep the i)eace 
 between the warring Christian factions. 
 
 How much of the beauty and harmony of the scene was 
 dissipated by this soldier's suggestive attitude ! How much 
 it told of warfare and bitterness where all should be peace 
 and harmony ! How much it suggested even of jealous and 
 envious sects who cannot even clasp hands across the cradle 
 of our Lord ! 
 
 "We were fflad before lonff to leave the Church of the 
 Nativity, and, as we rode home, we found more joy and sat- 
 isfaction in the sight of the peaceful plains where the shep- 
 herds watched their flocks by night, where Boaz left the 
 " handfuls of purpose," and Avhere David kept his flocks, de- 
 livering them with the help of God out of the paw of the 
 lion and out of the paw of the bear, than in the gaudy 
 and tinsel-decked church over which quarrelsome Christians 
 have s])ent so much blood and treasure. 
 
fi 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 I 
 
 WITHIN AND AROUND "THE DOME OF THE ROCK." 
 
 The Mos(iu(; of Omar — A Rock of W >. lerful Traditions — Abraham's 
 Sacrifice — Our Hctimie — Mohammed's Rroomstick Hide — Tlie Wily 
 Jew and the Pil^nim — The AVise Judp" — The Marvelous Iron Chain 
 of Justice — A Wilj' Jew — Our Slipjitio and How We Kept Them On 
 — Our "Humbug" Siicik — Tlie Great Rock — The Stone of Nails- 
 How the Devil Drew Them Out — An Easy Way of Buying Heaven — 
 A Rock Which Rests tm Nothing — How Gabriel Held It Down — The 
 Way to Paradise — What the Pilgrim Found in the Well — Hairs from 
 the Beard of Mohammed — The STuiuii;.; of Solomon — The Place of 
 Final Judgment — Startling and Curious Traditions — The Wailing 
 Place — Real Grief — A Sipialid Scene — The Old Pharisee and His 
 Lovelocks — A Sad Litany — A More Joyful Keynote — A Marvelous 
 Race. 
 
 ^ERIIAPS the mosque of Omar 
 combines more of uutlientic his- 
 toric interest than any other one 
 place in the world. The Church 
 of the Holy Sepulchre, to be 
 sure, would be more interesting 
 to the Christian heart than the 
 site of the Temple of Solomon, if 
 we could put full and implicit 
 trust in the rather shady tra- 
 ditions w^hich give it its fame. 
 But around the holv rock 
 over which the mosque of Omar is built few doubts linger. 
 "We know something of the wonderful temple which once 
 overshadowed it. We know what the rock itself was used 
 
 for, and though in these degenerate days the place has fallen 
 
 ( 488 ) - 
 
THE HOLY ROCK. 
 
 489 
 
 into impious Moslem hamls, it is still of sui)reme and ))athetic 
 interest to Jew and Christian, Catiiolic and Protestant, Ar- 
 menian and INfohammedan alike. 
 
 Even unsentimental Uaedeker melts a little when he 
 comes to the Ilaram, as the whole ])lace is called, and says, 
 with a suspicicm of symi)athy in his professional ^niide- 
 book phrase, " We now stand on one of the most profoundly 
 interesting spots in the world.'' * 
 
 In Abraham's day the stone under this great dome was 
 an altar of sacrifice, and in that most touching of Uiblical 
 stories we reatl that God said to Abraham, "Take now thy 
 son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee 
 into the land of Moriah; and otfer him there for a burnt 
 offering upon one of the mountains wl.ich I will tell thee of," 
 
 This was tlie mountain, so full since then of pathetic but 
 blessed memories to Jew and Christian alike, that God told 
 Abraham of. 
 
 This, too, was undoubtedly the thiesliing floor of 
 Araunah, the Jebusite, Avliich David bought for fifty shekels 
 of silver, and where he built an altar unto the Lord and 
 offered burnt offerings and peace offerings because of the 
 ])lague which was devastating Israel. Here, tem})le after 
 temple was erected ; here David collected the vast treasures 
 for the magnificent house of worship which he was not per- 
 mitted on account of his blood-stained hands to build ; here, 
 Solomon, the most exalted monarch of his day, built the 
 grandest temple of the ages ; here Nehemiah and his faithful 
 compatriots on their return from exile built a less splendid 
 house for God's worship ; and here Ilerod^ just before the 
 birth of Christ, erected a stately edifice Avbose stones were 
 being laid and whose beams were springing into their places 
 even while our Lord walked the streets of Jerusalem. He 
 must have watched the growth of the third temple. 
 
I 
 
 4'JO 
 
 AN IMPOSING PROCESSION, 
 
 i 
 
 For iiiiinv ('cnturies, as all know, Jcrusalciii lias l)oon in 
 the hands ol' Moliamnicihins, and tlie t('mj)l(' pivcincts havo 
 heen thcii' especial treasure, Tntil within a lew yeai's the 
 "inlidel (loaf's," as they politely (lesi;:^nate all (Christians, 
 wei'e not allowed to set foot within the enclosure, hut the 
 wajiin<,^ power of the Sultan could not resist the increasin<,^ 
 tleniands of Christian nations, and since the Crimean war, 
 travelers have heen admitted to the llaram. 
 
 Even now there are some impeding- formalities to he gone 
 through with hefore we can visit the sacred mostpie. AVe 
 api)lied to our United States Consul for a permit, and for his 
 kavass, who on the payment of five francs from each mem- 
 ber of the ])arty accompanies us, to see that no harm befalls 
 us from infuriated Moslems wlio still have to be held in 
 check when their sacred })laces are invaded even Ijy the 
 peaceful tourist. AVe also were obliged to take a soldier to 
 defend us in case of attack, who exjiects a fee of three or 
 four francs, a small boy to carry our slippers Avhich must be 
 donned before Ave enter the sacred ])recincts, while in ad- 
 dition to this array of followers, is our guide or dragoman, 
 who explains the significance of the sacred sights. 
 
 It was quite an imposing procession Avhicli set off one 
 bright March morning from the liotel just within the gates 
 of the city for the mosque of Omar. Leading the way Avas 
 the gorgeous kavass, arrayed in all his Oriental finery, car- 
 rying off his gaudy plumes with the utmost indifference and 
 dignity. Then came the soldier guard, scarcely less wonder- 
 fully arrayed, whose Winchester rifle, long sword, short 
 dirk, and brace of bull-dog pistols, Avere supposed to strike 
 terror to the heart of every pugnacious Turk Avho might dis- 
 pute our passage. 
 
 Following him Avas Abdallah, our dragoman. Then 
 came our modest selves, some half-dozen English and Amei'i- 
 
MEMORIES OP THE OREAT FALSE PROPHET. 
 
 ■491 
 
 US- 
 
 cans. Our slipper Ijoy followed after, and, as liis only 
 function was to put on our shoes when we removed the 
 slippers, and guard the shoes while wo were in the mosque, 
 he Wiis not obliged to appear in unil'orm. 
 
 Through the narrow, filthy streets we walked, passing the 
 Armenian monastery overshadowed 1)V loftv and <jloomv 
 cy]»resses, past the Turkish guard who unceasingly stands at 
 the gate of the Ilaram to prevent any unaccredited infidel 
 foot from pressing the sacred soil. At last we stootl on the 
 
 THE MOSQIE OF OMAK. 
 
 very rocks made sacred by the feet of Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob ; of David and Samuel ; of Judges, Prophets, Apostles, 
 and Martyrs, and of Jesus Christ, our Saviour, himself. 
 
 One soon gets the impression, however, that these pre- 
 cincts, in the minds of present owners, are more sacred to 
 the memory of Mohammed than of ary one else, for at every 
 step Ave are reminded of the great false prophet by some 
 absurd tradition. 
 
 For instance, as we enter the grounds a spot enclosed by 
 marble pillars is shown us as the very spot from which 
 Mohammed started on his flying horse to visit Damascus 
 
I 
 
 493 
 
 THE CHAIN OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 and Mecca, Ji journey of many hundred miles which occu})ied 
 him only live or six minutes. He had e\i(lently anticipated 
 not only Darius Green and his ilyin«^ machine, but all the 
 ai'i'ial inventions and electrical contrivances of tiie nineteenth 
 century. If ho had only left to his devoted followers the 
 secret of his airy journey, how many would have called him 
 blessed ! The Atlantic would now have no terrors for 
 the timid hunlsman. The Mediterranean might wax never 
 so wrathy and yet it would not keej) us at home. P^ven the 
 landing at Jatfa would have no fear for us, and traveling in 
 l*alestine, wdiich is now so wearisome, would be only a joyous 
 flitting from sacred spot to .sacred spot. 
 
 But, alas! Mohammed did not reveal the secret of his 
 flying horse, and wc must still walk about on two feet, be 
 they never so weaiy. 
 
 liefore the east entrance to the moscjue of Omar is an- 
 other covered, dome-shaped pavilion surrounded by mari)le 
 pillars, and here we paused long enough for Abdallah to tell 
 us the story of the })hice. With his snap{)ing, black Syrian 
 eyes, his expressive gestures and mobile face, he could make 
 the most untrustworthy and improbal)le tn»diti(msglow with 
 a living interest. Suspended from the roof of this pavilion, 
 says Abdallah, there used to })c a chain of heavy iron links, 
 under which all accused persons must stand. If the chain 
 fell on them they were guilty ; if, however, the chain did not 
 fall, but remained suspended, they were innocent. 
 
 On one occasion there came to this place of judgment a 
 Mohammedan and a Jew, the Jew being accused by the 
 Moiiammedan of robbing him of thegohl which he had com- 
 mitted to the Jew on his dejKirture for Mecca, whither he 
 had gone on a pilgrimage, for it is not permitted a pilgrim 
 to cany with iiim more money thaa is sufficient to meet the 
 necessities of life. 
 
ABDALLAH S STORY. 
 
 493 
 
 "•Wlieii I c'iiiiie buck from AFccca," said the j\Iussuhuaii 
 lit tlio ti'ial, ''tliis (l()»i; of a Jtnv would not g-ive mo back my 
 propoi'ty, but swears that ho uovor received it fi'om me." 
 
 "Stand under the chain," said the just an<l inflexible 
 judge to the Jew, "and if you liavo your neighbor's money 
 its heavy links will fall on you and crush you to the dust." 
 
 " Most willingly," answered the Jew, "for I assure you I 
 have not a penny of my neighboi-'s money." Upon this ho 
 liauded the judge a heavy cane that he cari'ied in his hand 
 and briskly stei)ped under the avenging chain. 
 
 Sure enough, the Jew ai)peared to be right, the chain 
 ronuiined stn^ng and firm, not even by a wriggle of one of 
 its links did it show its desire to crush the accused. 
 
 " Ila, ha," said the judge to the Mohammedan, "you 
 have borne false witness, you must stand uiuler the chain 
 yourself and it will soon show which is the i)erjured man." 
 
 Upon this the Jew^ received his cane back again and the 
 Mohammedan step])ed uiuler the chain, and still it did lu^t 
 fall, neither did the links show any nu)tion, or desire to 
 avenge a wrong. 
 
 " There must be some mistake about this," pondered the 
 judge, "the chain never made a mistake before. Either one 
 or the other of these men must be guilty." 
 
 Then a smUlen light gleamed upon the mind of the 
 sapient disj)enser of justice, and, taking the cane once more 
 out of the hand of the wily Jew, he broke it across his kneo 
 and all the Mohammedan's gold rolled out from its hollow 
 interior. 
 
 Thus the secret stood revealed. The Jew did not have 
 a penny of the Moslem's money while he was under the 
 chain, for it was all in the judge's hands, and the chain could 
 not fall upon him, neither could it crush the Mohammedan, 
 for ho was right in his accusation, and thus the wisiloni of 
 
494 
 
 SLIPPERS FOR INFIDEL FEET. 
 
 
 
 If!'! 
 
 m 
 
 the great judge was re-established and the reputation of the 
 chain was preserved. 
 
 It was on this s})ot, too, according to Abdallah, that 
 Solomon discovered the true mother of the babe when he 
 took his sword and was about to cut the little one into two 
 })ieces, and discovered by the heart-rending s*^ bs and prayers 
 of one woman that the life of the child might be spared, 
 which the true mother of the infant was. 
 
 Here at this east door, near which the pavilion of the 
 chain is situated, we stopped to take off our shoes, A most 
 miscellaneous assortment of slippers was brought for those 
 who had no slippers with them by one of the attendants of 
 the mosque. These slippers were in all degrees and stages 
 of dilapidation. The only kind that we did not find among 
 the whole lot brought us to choose from, were those that 
 made any pretention to respectability. Great splay-footed 
 sides of leather, out at the toes and heels, were presented to 
 us ; ecpially disreputable pieces of carpeting which Avere 
 once slippers, but which now bear scarcely a resemblance to 
 soles and uppers were laid at our feet ; while, m other cases, 
 pieces of bocking with a string run through the hole at the 
 top, into Avhich the feet are supposed to be thrust, did duty 
 as foot coverings, and prevented our infidel feet from defil- 
 ino; the sacred sanctuarv of the Moslems. 
 
 The only thing about these slippers which is universal is 
 their consjiicuous roominess. However, by careful manage- 
 ment, never lifting our feet from the ground, and shuffling in 
 the most awkward way, we were able to keep them on our 
 feet and to follow our guide, our kavass, and our soldier, into 
 the mostjue. The crowd of attendants was here increased by 
 the old sheik of the mosque himself, and by several of his 
 retainers who followed us about in order that they might 
 have an excuse for demanding l)ackslieesh. 
 
le 
 
 the 
 uty 
 
 m- 
 
 uige- 
 
 into 
 dby 
 f his 
 night 
 
 
 COMPLIMENTING THE SHEIK. 
 
 495 
 
 Our new attendant, the sheik of the mosque, spoke only 
 Turkish. Our dragoman, Abdalhih, is etjually at home in 
 Turkisli and English. Turning to us he said, with the ut- 
 most solemnity, '' This sheik is a very great man, I assure 
 you, and he greatly honors us with his })resence." This 
 complimentary explanation he translated into Turkish, and 
 then turning to us once more said, in English alone, for our 
 own private delectation, *' And he is one great big humbug, 
 too, and no more use to us than two tails to a cat." 
 
 The sheik evidently considered this another compliment, 
 but f(jrtunately, did not insist upon its being translated. 
 
 The mosque of Omar, or dome of the rock, as its Turkish 
 name may be translated into English, is an octagonal build- 
 ino', each of whose sides is sixtv-six feet in len<2:th. The 
 upper part is covered Avith porcelain tiles of a subdued blue. 
 The effect is considereil bv artists t'j be remarkablv fine. 
 
 The lower part of the building is covered with marble, 
 and passages from the Koran, written in interwoven charac- 
 ters, run around the building like a frieze. 
 
 Within, the building is not particulai'ly remarkable, ex- 
 cept for the great rock in the center, and the traditions 
 which cluster around this rock, which, l>y hundreds of mil- 
 lions of people, is regarded as the central point of the world. 
 
 Just how large the claim on your reverence may be 
 Avhich this rock should have, it is difficult to tell, but, in any 
 event, it will always hold its preeminence as one of the most 
 sacred spots to Jew and ^rohammedan and Christian alike. 
 
 Authentic Jewish tradition tells us that on this very rock 
 Abraham offered sacrifice. Here Isaac lay, bound and ready 
 for the sacrificial knife which his father held in his hand 
 when the arresting voice of God was heard. Some scholars 
 say that on this s})ot the Holy of Holies of the ancient tem])le 
 stood, while still others declare that the great sacrificial altar 
 
 .30 
 
496 
 
 A SATANIC LEGEND. 
 
 stood here, and have discovered on the rock what they be- 
 lieve to be traces of a channel for canying off the blood. 
 
 Many of the traditions which now cluster about this place 
 are undoubtedly of Mohammedan origin, and are of little 
 interest to Jew or Christian except as curious freaks of the 
 imagination. 
 
 But we will follow our old sheik about, as, with implicit 
 faith in his own story, he tells the tale to us. The great 
 rock which gives its name to the mosque is enclosed by a 
 screen which Avas put up in the days of the Crusaders, but 
 through the holes in the screen we can stick our fingers and 
 touch the sacred stone itself. 
 
 Just outside the screen, on the east side of the mosque, is 
 a stone in which are some nail-holes, while two or three nails 
 seem to be still driven into the stone and there remain 
 imbedded. Here, our ancient '" humbug " of a sheik pauses 
 impressively and points with his fat fore-finger to these nails, 
 " Do you see this stone ? " he says, while his Arabic is trans- 
 lated into English by Abdallah. " There used to be thirteen 
 nails in this stone, and the devil knows very well that Avhen 
 all the nails are drawn out the end of the world Avill come. 
 Of course, he is anxious for this so that he may escaj)e from 
 torment himself. One day he came into the mosque Avith 
 his ugly forked tail and dreadful hoofs and began to pull out 
 the nails. He had pulled out ten of them and another was 
 half out Avhen Gabriel saAV Avhat he Avas about, and stopped 
 him in the midst of his occupation. You can see that Avliat 
 I am telling you is true," added the old sheik, " for there 
 are only two and one-half nails left, and you can see that 
 the devil pulled out all the rest before he Avas stoi)ped." 
 
 This avaricious old sinner Avdht on to say, " If anyone 
 puts some backsheesh doAvn on this stone he is sure of going 
 to heaven." After this solemn assurance, we thrcAV down a 
 
WHERE PATRIARCHS AND PROPHETS PRAYED. 
 
 497 
 
 ras 
 
 3re 
 liat 
 
 me 
 \\ a 
 
 copper, and turning to the old Moslem, asked him if that 
 would assure us entrance into Paradise, but the sheik was 
 too shrewd to commit himself. " You may possibly squeeze 
 in," he said, "but if you would only give two francs, it 
 would make it sure." However, we declined to purchase 
 bliss at any such price as this. 
 
 This whole huge rock is supposed by Mohammedans to 
 rest on nothing, and when one goes down into a kind of 
 crypt or cellar-way underneath the rock, and shows them the 
 substantial stone pillars which support it, they claim that 
 underneath the crypi it is entirely hollow, and prove it by 
 pounding on the floor, which makes a hollow rumbling sound 
 as though there were a cavern beneath our feet. 
 
 In this subterranean chamber our dragoman points out 
 the places where David, Solomon, Abraham, and Elijah were 
 in the habit of praying. Here Mohammed used to pray 
 also, and, being a tall man, when he rose from his knees he 
 would surely have bumped his head against the ceiling, but 
 very considerately the stone rose out of liis way, and there 
 is a hollow over our heads of exactly the shape of Moham- 
 med's turban. 
 
 In this rock is also a round hole thi'ough which, the 
 faithful assure us, that Mohammed ascended into heaven. 
 The stone could not bear to be deprived of his company, and 
 so it was following after him when Gabriel put his hand on 
 it and stopped it from going any furthei*. Uj)on this, the 
 obedient stone settled back into its place, and blessed the re- 
 straining hand. 
 
 Our credulity is somewhat strained by this legend, but 
 when we expressed any doubt, our old guide settled the mat- 
 ter once for all by showing us a Avhiti ',11 quartz fragment in 
 the heart of the rock, which lie declared to be the tongue of 
 the stone with which it blessed the hand of Gabriel. 
 
I'lli 
 
 498 
 
 THE WELL OF PARADISE. 
 
 ] 
 
 I 
 
 Si 
 
 Moreover, he showed us a depression in tlie stone itself, 
 m)on whicli Gabriel's hand rested when it ])revented the rock 
 from Hying heavenward. What more could be said in view 
 of such incontrovertible evidence i 
 
 Going outside of the mos(jue again, we followed our 
 numerous guides to another building which is scarcely less 
 sacred than the dome of the rock. This is the mos(|Uo of 
 El Aksa, a long, rectangular building, much inferior to the 
 octagonal moscjue that covers the s.'icred rock, Ijut yet, hav- 
 ing its own I'elics of suj)reme interest to the IMohammedan. 
 
 Here is the sacred well of Paradise. As Ave look down 
 into its cavernous depths, we can see nothing but a great 
 black hole in the floor. We are assured, however, that this 
 is none other than the way to Paradise itself, for (m one 
 occasion, a jnlgrim who was here drawing water, lost his 
 bucket, and going down to get it, he saw^ twf) angels at the 
 bott(mi of the well, who told him that this was the way to 
 Paradise, and who at the same time, gave him two leaves 
 from the Tree of Life. These he stuck behind his ear, and 
 then came up to the surface once more, to prove by these 
 incontrovertible signs that what he said was true ; and from 
 that day to this, that precious romancer has been believed. 
 Evidently, it is not alwaj's certain that truth lies at the bot- 
 tom of the Avell. 
 
 In another ]iart of this same nujsque are two ]iillars 
 through which a tolerably stout man can barely scpiccze 
 himself. The story connected with these pillars is that any 
 one who can crowd throuii-h between them is sure at last of 
 crowding into Heaven. Alas for the fat man! There is no 
 more chance for him to enter Paradise through this gate 
 than for a camel to crawl though the eye of a needle. 
 
 However, neither the stout man nor the lean man nor 
 the muldle-sized man could be deterred on anv consideration 
 
THE STABLES OF SOLOMON. 
 
 499 
 
 from trying to crowd his Wtay between the pillars, until cat 
 hist, so scandalous became the cron'ding and [)ushing of 
 those who tried to get into Paradise in tiiis cheap and easy 
 way, that the Governor of Jerusalem Avas obliged to till up 
 the space with an iron frame whicii still renuiins between 
 the pillars, so that now neither fat nor lean can enter 
 Heaven by this door. 
 
 In this mosque there is a very beautiful carved pulpit, 
 some ancient copies of the Koran, which are well worth ex- 
 amining if the custodian can be persuaded to let us have a 
 glimpse of them, and there are also some hairs from ]\Ioham- 
 med's beard, carefully preserved in green wooden boxes. 
 These, I understand, are never visible to infidel eyes, and we 
 must take it on trust that wrai>ped up in innumerable 
 cloths and reposing in a large wooden box, is an actual hair 
 from the very beard of the marvelous man who so deeply 
 impressed the world by his fanaticism and strange person- 
 ality. 
 
 Underneath the mosque of El Aksa are the so-called 
 "stables of Solomon," huge subterranean caverns sup])orted 
 by stone pillars in which one would think a thousand horses 
 might easily find accommodation, but whether one of Solo- 
 mon's gaily ca])arisoned steeds ever munched his hay and 
 oats in these caverns is an open question. They were un- 
 doubtedly, however, used by the Crusaders and Templars in 
 the middle ages, and the rings to which they tied their 
 horses are still found in the stone pillars. 
 
 Kow let us go out into the open air once more. It is re- 
 freshing to breath God's sweet zephyrs, and to stand in His 
 sunlight once more, after the dismal, op})ressing shadows of 
 the Mohammedan mosque. As we look around we find 
 that both of these moscjues and the other buildings of the 
 Ilaram stand on a broad plateau, much of which is given up 
 
 N 
 
500 
 
 THE PLACE OF THE LAST JUDGMENT. 
 
 ,1 
 
 ' '( 
 
 to coarse grass and coarser weeds, with here and there a 
 pretty wikl flower peeping out of its green bed. 
 
 PYom the top of the wall we can get a magnificent view 
 of the valley of Jehoshaphat and the Mount of Olives be- 
 yond. The whole hillside, which slopes down to the deep 
 ravine and then rises suddenly on the other side, is dotted 
 with tombs, — Moslem tombs on the side next to the city, 
 Jewish graves on the further side, for Jews and Moslems 
 alike agree that here at the resurrection day the nations will 
 assemble to be judged for the deeds done in the body. 
 
 To them this is the most solemnly sacred place in the 
 world, and the suggestion from the wall which suri'ounds 
 the temple area is surpassingly awful to their imagination. 
 Projecting over the wall and built in horizontally is a pros- 
 trate column. The Mohammedans say that from this column 
 a thin wire rope, when Gabriers trumpet blast proclaims the 
 last judgment, will be stretched to the Mount of Olives. 
 Christ will sit on the wall, they say, and Mohammed on the 
 opposite mountain as the judges of all the nations of the earth 
 who will be gathered in the valley beneath. All men must 
 pass over the valley on this rope. The righteous Avill be 
 miraculously kept from falling, and w411 fly across the ro])e 
 like lightning, while the wicked will fall into the abyss 
 below and there will writhe in torment forever. 
 
 There are many more traditions, wonderful and startling 
 and curious, Avhich cluster around this temple area. 
 
 Not far from this mosque, Avhich is so crowded with 
 Moslem traditions, is a place which is still more Interesting 
 and far more pathetic in my eyes than the one where Ave 
 have spent the morning ; as much more pathetic as is real 
 grief than doubtful traditions and simulated sorrow. I refer 
 to the wailing place of the Jews. To this sorrowful spot 
 let us take our way through the dirty, crowded streets. 
 
JEWS AT THE VVAILIN(i PLACE. 
 
 601 
 
 
 ctling 
 
 with 
 !sting 
 [•e we 
 s real 
 
 refer 
 spot 
 
 It is Friday afternoon that we visit this most doleful place, 
 and after winding in and out through narrow streets and 
 lanes we find our way barred by a high wall composed 
 in its lower courses of huge blocks of stone. This wall is 50 
 feet in height and 150 in length and consists of 24 layers of 
 stone, several of the stones being from 12 to 1(5 feet in 
 length. 
 
 As we come into the narrow courtyard bounded by this 
 
 WAILIN(J PLACE OF THE JEWS. 
 
 high wall Ave find it filled with Jews of all ages, and of all 
 conditions of life. Men, Avomen, and children ; well-dressed 
 Jews and ragged Jews ; dirty Jews and clean Jews ; dudish 
 Jews dressed in the latest Paris style, and old patriarchs in 
 sheepskin jackets and baggy trousers; fresh young faces 
 whose beauty is not wholly spoiled by the inevitable Roman 
 beak which so often makes the Jew look like a bird of prey, 
 and old weather-beaten Pharisees with love-locks curling 
 about each ear, and dangling down under their round caps. 
 
1 
 
 
 503 
 
 THE SOLEMN LITANY. 
 
 Sitting on the ground were several old rabbis, reading 
 from well-tlunnbed books of the law the appropriate pas- 
 sages of lamentation and woe, while others responded in 
 grief-striken accents, " We sit in solitude and mourn." 
 
 But the most pathetic sight to me was that of old 
 women whose grief could not be restrained and was evi- 
 dently as genuine as it was uncontrollable, Si)reading out 
 their withered hands on the rough stones of the wall, with 
 tears running down their cheeks, they would passionately 
 kisr the stones worn smooth by the lips of countless pilgrims, 
 and cry out in very bitterness of spirit as they thought 
 of the glories which had forever departed and the shame 
 and contumely which had come to their once great nation. 
 
 Here is the litany that was chanted, and my readers can 
 imagine the weird and sorrowful scene as the leader, with 
 the great book of the law opened before him, wails out his 
 agony, and the people, many of them with tears streaming 
 down their faces, utter the responses. Here is this strange 
 responsive service which every week for many generations 
 has been heard by the stern gray walls that overlook the 
 scene and seem forever to bar the progress and happiness of 
 the Jewish nation. 
 
 Leader. " For the palace that lies desolate," 
 Response. " We sit in solitude and mourn." 
 
 Leader. "For the palace that is destroyed," 
 Response. " We sit in solitude and mourn." 
 
 Leader. " For the walls that arc overthrown," 
 
 Response. " We sit in solitude and mount." 
 
 Leader. " For our great men who lie dead," 
 
 Response. " We sit in solitude and mourn." 
 
 Leader. " For the priests who have stumbled," 
 
 Response. " We sit in solitude and mourn." 
 
 Leader. " For our kings who have despised him," 
 Response. " We sit in solitude and mourn." 
 
A MORE JOYOUS STRAIN. 
 
 503 
 
 
 range 
 
 At this point the service rises from this minor icey for a 
 moment. Tlie tears of the wailing multitude are dried for a 
 little while. They cease to heat the wall with their with- 
 ered hands, as, for a moment, the joy of the coming kingdom 
 in which they still hope Israel nuiy have a share, l>reaks 
 upon their vision; and, while their leader reads: "We pray 
 thee have mercy on Zion," the response comes back, 
 "Gather the children of Jerusalem." 
 
 Leader. " Ilastu, haste, Redeemer of Ziou." 
 Itesponse. " Speak to the heart of Jem .sale in." 
 
 Leader. " May beauty and majesty surrouud Zion." 
 liespoiise. "Ah, turn thytielf, luereiful to Jerusalem." 
 
 Leader. "May the kingdom soon return to Zion." 
 Eefipoiise. " Comfort thone icho mourn over Jerusalem." 
 
 Leader, •' May peace and joy abide witli Zion." 
 Response. "And the branch of Jesse spriny up at Jerusalem." 
 
 As one listens to this sad wail, even though relieved at 
 times by a more joyous strain, he cannot help believing that 
 the Jews are not cast off forever, that a people of so much 
 moral earnestness and intensity have a great future as well 
 as a great history behind them, and that a nation that has 
 resisted the encroachments of everv enemy that could be 
 marshaled against them and still retain in their integritN' so 
 many of their national characteristics, have a strength and 
 tenacity of purpose which will be used by Providence in 
 working out in the future His great design. 
 
 Mean and squalid as is the wailing place of the Jews, one 
 returns from a visit there not only impressed and saddened 
 by the concentrated grief of a great people, but also im- 
 pressed with the possibilities of such a people when regen- 
 erated and redeemed by the Saviour whom now they reject, 
 when they shall take their place among the united, progress- 
 ive Christian nations of the world. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 IN THE HOME OF SAINT PAUL — THE FAMOUS CEDARS OF 
 LEBANON -OUH EXPERIENCES IN THE LAND OF THE 
 SULTAN -AT THE MERCY OF INHOSPITABLE TURKS. 
 
 Embarking iit Jaffa — Amerioans in Syria — Tlieir Spk'ndid College — An 
 Interesting Room — Tiie Beginning of Our Trll)ulations — ATurliisli 
 Custom House — Forbidden Words — Tlie Sapient Censor — A School 
 Boy's Composition and Wliat Came of it — Tlie Use of Ironclads 
 — An Ill-starred Rebellion — " No Mean City" — St. Paul's Well — 
 Drawing Water from It — St. Paul's Tree — St. Paul's Institute — 
 Humble Streets — A Walk to the Vali's Palace —" Palace " or 
 "Sheds"? — In the Presence of His Excellency — "The Bouyou- 
 rouldou " — Ollicial Handwriting — A Sunday in Adana — A Living 
 Screen — A Congregation of Fezzes — Squatting on the Floor — "la 
 America on a Hill ? " — Preparing for our Overland Journey. 
 
 UR way from the Holy City to the 
 land of the Sultan proper, led back 
 once more to Jaffa, where we 
 found the sea smiling and calm as 
 though it liad never thought of 
 frightening poor pilgrims, or in- 
 gulfing their frail boats as it so 
 often seems to do. Our embarka- 
 tion was as quiet and peaceful as 
 the landing was stormy, and the 
 
 \r'fi^^^q^^^^ next morning after leaving Jaffa, 
 
 we found ourselves anchored in 
 
 the roadstead of Beirut, the most enterprising and populous 
 
 seacoast city of Syria. 
 
 While Beirut has many points of interest to the passing 
 
 traveler, that which impressed us most strongly was the work 
 
 (504) 
 
TRANSLATING THE BIBLE INTO ARABIC. 
 
 505 
 
 the 
 iilfa, 
 d in 
 ilous 
 
 of the American I*resbvterijin Mission with its j^reut printing 
 j)resses, its churches, its school, and above all the magnificent 
 American college which is the outgrowth of missionary work 
 unil inthience, and which now boasts of buildings and ecjuip- 
 ment and faculty of which neither Yale nor Harvard nor 
 Dartmouth nor J*rinceton need be ashamed. 
 
 The Hospital of the Knights of 8t. John is here under the 
 care of the medical faculty of the college, and is a most use- 
 ful and worthy institution. This fine universitv onlv iroes 
 to show that modern ideas of American Christian education 
 are just as good for the Orient as for the Occident, that the 
 same training and Christian nurture which develops well- 
 rounded, symmetrical character in the American youth 
 accomplishes the same for the young men of Syria ; for 
 never ha\e I seen a more manly or interesting body of stu- 
 dents than assembled in the American College of Beirut. 
 One of the most interesting historical sights to every Ameri- 
 can Christian is that of a low and bare attic-room in one of 
 the mission buildings where the translation of the Bible into 
 Arabic was begun and completed by two American scholars. 
 A marble tablet on the wall bears this inscription : 
 
 la this Room 
 
 The IVanalation of the Bible 
 
 Into the Arabic Language 
 
 Was Begun in 1848, 
 
 by Rev. Eli Smith, D.D., 
 
 and prosecuted by him until his death in January, 1857. 
 
 It teas then taken up in October, 1857, bxj Rev. C. V. A. Vandyck, D.D., aid 
 
 completed by him August 23, I8G4. 
 
 Away to the north, over a lougli and difficult road, are 
 the famous Cedars of Lebanon. 
 
 They are in a valley which is dominated by the high 
 peaks of the range, and stand on a little hill or knoll, so that 
 they are visible from a considerable distance. 
 
506 
 
 THE FAMOUS CEDARS OF LEBANON. 
 
 i 
 
 !l;!'i' 
 
 Hi 
 
 Though there are other ce(hir groves iii Syria, the 0113 
 here lueationed is tiie most im[)ortaiit, for the reason that it 
 is su|)i)ose(l to have furnished the timber for Solomon's Tem- 
 ])le, as recorded in tiie Ohl Testament. 
 
 There is a great deal of romantic interest attached to these 
 trees. One has heard of them from childhood, and has pic- 
 tured to one's self treos of more than ordinary lieauty, and 
 of an exce[)tional fragrance. Tiiese ideas prol)al)ly arise 
 fi'om knowing that Solomon considered no other wood 
 Avortiiy of being used in the adornment of the Temple, and 
 that Tiglath-Pileser, having con(juered Carcheinish, came 
 hither for the express })urpose of carrying away a goodly 
 number of these forest treasures to beautify his palaces. 
 
 It IS probalile, that at a very distant date the sIoj)es of 
 Lebanon were clothed with forest ; but from time to time so 
 many trees have been cut down by the Syrians themselves, 
 as well as by their conquerors, that at tiie present day they 
 exist onlv in small isolated •j'roves. The most extensive of 
 these, known to us as " The C'edar.s of Lebauim," is called l)y 
 the Syrians " The Grove of the Lord," and in it there are 
 three hundred and ninety-three trees ; of these, only twelve 
 are of any great size, and they have received the name of 
 "■ The Twelve Apostles," from a tradition that Clirist once 
 visited this s[)ot with His a]»ostles, who planted their staves, 
 which grew into these goodly cedars. 
 
 Kind friends made our two days in J>eirut memorable, 
 and crowded them with pleasant memories. Then we again 
 took ship, and, after skirting the IMed iterranean coast, touch- 
 ing for a few hours at Tripoli, Latakia, and Alexandretta, we 
 came to anchor in the harbor of Mei"sin, and found ourselves, 
 beyond all peradventurc, in the land of the Sultan of Sultans, 
 and within the very borders of the unspeakable Turk. 
 
 To be sure, Syria is n(jminally ruled by the Sultan and 
 
 S 
 
ettii, we 
 iiu'selves, 
 Sultans, 
 
 T - 3 '5 
 
 i ST — 1 
 
 < t < s 
 
 
 .. = 7' v. 
 
 ■ -. - P' 
 
 c - § X 
 
 ^ . . ■/. 
 
 v' - -3 _ 
 
 
 :1 , ;■ — 
 
 1 ni 
 \ m 
 
 
 tail and 
 
in 
 
 
 I 1 
 
AT THE MERCY OF OFFICIOUS TURKS. 
 
 509 
 
 pays tribute to Turkey, and though this rule is severe enough 
 in all conscience, and his oppression and tyranny sufficiently 
 galling, yet no one knows the full extent to which outrageous 
 tyranny can be carried, until he actually sets foot in Asia 
 Minor, and finds himself in the Turk's own pi-oper domain. 
 
 Our tribulations began 
 with the Custom House. 
 Though we had three or 
 four kind friends who ex- 
 erted themselves to their 
 utmost to see us safely 
 through, their offices did 
 not altogether avail. Our 
 trunks were rummaged, 
 our travelino: bags were 
 turned inside out, and 
 everything in the nature 
 of a book, even innocent 
 Badit?ker and ^Murray, was 
 confiscated by this pater- 
 nal government which is 
 so careful in regard to the 
 reading matter of its sub- 
 jects. And here, as lirst 
 we land upon the inhos- 
 pitaljlo sliores of Turkey, 
 may, perha})s, be as good 
 a time as any to tell my readers something of the tyranny 
 which is only typified by the Sultan's custom house. 
 
 It can be well imagined that the work of the Christian 
 missionary comes in for the es])ecial and i)articularly un- 
 favorable notice of the Turkish government. An old treaty 
 with the Christian powers prevents the Ottomans from 
 
 DRUSE FROM MOUNT I.EnAXON. 
 
510 
 
 OBSTACLES THROWN IN OUR WAY. 
 
 crushing out Cliristianity entirely from their land, as they 
 would be glad to do. This treaty guarantees liberty to 
 worship God as the people choose, but in every way in which 
 it can be made a dead letter it is annulled. Churches which 
 are already established cannot be very well destroyed, but if 
 a congregation wishes to build a new church or schoolhouse, 
 or to put up any mission building of any kind, the most 
 needless and exasperating obstacles are thrown in the way. 
 One of the laws requires that permission shall be granted by 
 the government authorities for any such new building, and 
 some of our missionaries have been Avaiting for 3'ears and 
 years for the permission, which they can never get, to erect 
 their church or schoolhouse, even though the money is 
 raised and the material on hand for the structure. 
 
 The chief object in my journey across Asia Minor, as my 
 readers know, was to speak in various large centers where I 
 had been invited in behalf of the Society of Christian En- 
 deavor, and to visit societies already established. But I 
 found at once that obstacles and restrictions in the way of 
 Christian work had so multiplied of late that it would be 
 very difficult to do what I had intended. I was told that I 
 must not use in public address the words "organization," 
 "society," "fellowship," "brotherhood," or anything which 
 told of the union of young ]>eople for religious or other 
 purposes ; that it Avas against the policy of the Turkish 
 government to allow the people to unite or combine for any 
 purpose whatsoever in any society or organization, and that 
 everything was being done that was possible to break up 
 all religious organizations. 
 
 In every audience which I addressed, and I had the 
 pleasure of speaking to many during my four Aveeks in 
 Turkey, I Avas told that a Turkish spy Avas in the congrega- 
 tion, and that any ill-considered Avord might land myself and 
 
TURKISH STUPIDITY AND IGNORANCE. 
 
 511 
 
 ler 
 
 liat 
 
 Ithe 
 
 in 
 
 lind 
 
 half my audience in a Turkish jail. Everything in the way 
 of printed matter which comes into Turkey has to pass under 
 the close scrutiny of a stupid and ignorant censor of the 
 ])ress. So absurd are his objections, and so rigid is his 
 inspection, that very little literature of any kind is allowed 
 in these davs. 
 
 As illustrations of the stupidity which reigns in the 
 censor's office many amusing stories are told. For instance, 
 a Sunday-school lesson, which bore the Scriptural title 
 "Jesus Christ came into the Avorld to save sinners," was 
 amended by the censor so as to read, " Jesus Christ came 
 into the Avorld to save Christian sinners," since he wanted it 
 plainly understood that the Redeemer had nothing to do 
 with Turkish sinners. A daily Bible reading, which was 
 headed " Trouble in the Palace," referring to the palace 
 which is spoken of in the Book of Esther, w^as forbidden 
 because trouble and a palace (the Sultan's palace, of course) 
 could not be spoken of in tlie same breath. Another Bible 
 reading which bore the inoffensive title, "The People En- 
 couraged," was likewise absolutely forbidden, ^vith the sug- 
 gestive comment that the government did not wish the people 
 to be encouraged. 
 
 Doubtless the truth Avas spoken in this comment if in no 
 other, but this extreme rigor of the censor applies not onl}' 
 to religious books, but to school text-books as Avell, and here 
 even more absurd and amusing stories of the censor's stupid 
 caution are told. A book on chemi'^try. which of course 
 contained the familiar formula, "IlgO," was forbidden, 
 because it was supposed to have some occult reference to the 
 reigning sovereign, who is llamid 2d, and it was interpreted 
 to mean "llamid 2d is nothing." A geographical text-book 
 Avas forbidden because it referred to the junction or union of 
 rivers, and the author was told that his Majesty desired the 
 
• II 
 
 -:3 
 
 513 
 
 A DISCREET ARMENIAN. 
 
 Ml 
 
 I 
 
 youth of his country to know nothing about union or com- 
 bination. A chapter on star fishes was striclvcn out of a 
 text-book of natural liistory, because some hiiklen reference 
 to the Sultan's "Star palace" was suspected. 
 
 But these emendations and objections of the censor might 
 easily be dismissed with a laugh, as the vagaries of an 
 ignorant man having in his hands for a brief time the reins 
 of otfice, did they n(jt show a studied and deliberate effort on 
 the part of the officials to prevent all learning and advance- 
 ment along the line of Christian civilization. The policy of 
 the government is evidently ojipressive and reactionary, and 
 it means to do everything that it can to crush out the sparks 
 of Christian education. 
 
 When it comes to absolute torture, imprisonment, and 
 death, this oppression is no longer a laughing matter, and to 
 this point it has come to hundreds of the subjects of the 
 Sultan. An intelligent and well-educated native Armenian 
 Protestant pastor whom I visited had recently received a 
 letter from Prof. Henry Drummond of Glasgow, in Avhich 
 the writer spoke of his desire to visit ''^ Armenia.'^ The poor 
 man who received the letter did not dare to keep it in his 
 house with that compromising word on the title page, so he 
 had carefully cut out the word "■ Armenia," and written over 
 the place Avhere it had formerly appeared the word " Turkey." 
 Even the possession of that letter with that comjiromising 
 word might have meant for him years of imprisonment in a 
 Turkish dungeon. 
 
 Another man of whom I know was imprisoned for two 
 years simply l)ecause the Turkish police found among his 
 effects, when they Avere searching his house on one occasion, 
 a school-l)oy conijiosition which spoke of freedom and liberty, 
 and expressed some natural sentiments for a larger and more 
 untrammeled life than he was then leading. This composi- 
 
A COWARDLY TYRANT. 
 
 613 
 
 two 
 
 Iff liis 
 lasion, 
 pert}-, 
 more 
 liiposi- 
 
 tion, written fifteen years before his arrest, had been thrown 
 one side and entirely forgotten until it was resurrected by 
 the prying Turkish officials. P>ut it was enough to compro- 
 mise its author, and for two years he languished in a Turkish 
 jail in consequence of that innocent boyish eifusion. These 
 are only a few incidents from many that might be cited to 
 illustrate the outrageous tyranny of the weak and tiinid ruler 
 who reigns on the banks of the Bosi)horus. They are 
 enough, however, to show the terror under which many of 
 " the sick man's " subjects live, and they are enough to 
 arouse the indignation of every freedom-loving American 
 and Englishman on the face of the earth. 
 
 Only by a combined protest of the Christian powers of 
 the world, backed up by the necessary ironclads, can this un- 
 happy state of things be changed ; but such a protest would 
 be effective, and very quickly would the cringing tyrant, in 
 whose name these outrages are perpetrated, issue different 
 orders from those which now go forth from his palace, if he 
 saw that the Christian powers " meant business." The pre- 
 text for these especially oji'n'essive measures wOiicli have 
 disgraced the government during the past year, is found in 
 the so-called Armenian rebellion, an ill-timed, fruitless, and 
 abortive uprising which was fomented largely by a society 
 of Armenians whose motives were anything but patriotic. 
 
 They represented, however, only a very snuill proportion 
 of their countrymen, and the chief result of their ill-starred 
 rebellion lias been to make their fellow countrymen feel 
 more severelv than ever before the crushing heel of the 
 tyrant of Constantino])le. 
 
 But we have not yet got beyond the custom house at 
 Mersin, so long have we been in unburdening our souls of the 
 righteous indignation that has taken possession of them. i 
 
 Mersin is an uninteresting seacoast town, where some fine 
 
i'^' 
 
 '1 
 
 ' ', 
 11' 
 
 ill 
 I': 
 
 if! 
 
 514 
 
 IN THE HOME OF SAINT PAUL. 
 
 'l'!. 
 
 y 
 
 missionary work is boinf^ accomplishod by tlio Kofoi'ined 
 Prosbytoriiin Cliui'cli of America among the Arabic-si)(>akin<^ 
 Syrians. As soon as we could collect the belonoinos which 
 the government allowed us to keep, we boarded the train on 
 the little railway which runs between Mersin and Adana. 
 "What is the name of this place which we hear the l)i'akeman 
 calling out with stentorian lungs (■ "Tarsus, Tai'sus." Can 
 it be that this is the famous city of Bible history, tlie birth- 
 place of the greatest man who ever lived, the Apostle to the 
 Gentiles? It certainly is no other. This was the city of 
 the great tent-maker, avIio here wrought Avith his own hands, 
 and who, with a touch of ])ardonable pride in after years, 
 spoke of Tarsus, his birth])laco, as " no mean city." 
 
 The first thought that is apt to occur to the traveler in 
 modern days is that whatever Tarsus may have been in the 
 days of Saint Paul it is certainly a very mean city in some 
 of its aspects to-day. Its streets are many of them narrow 
 and exceedingly liltliy. Few of its houses present any 
 claim to architectural excellence. The roads leading to it 
 are washed and almost impassable in many places, and yet 
 in all these particulars it is not only no worse, but probably 
 far better tiian the average Turkish city. Comparatively 
 speaking, it can still be said that Tarsus is no mean city. 
 
 Everything of chief interest in this ancient place clusters 
 about the name of the great a])ostle. To be sure, the re- 
 puted tomb of Sardana})alus is here, but it attracts only a 
 momentary and languid interest compared with anything 
 that relates to Saint Paul. These relics are few and meagre 
 enough, and probably, in the whole collection, there is noth- 
 ing that is absolutely and beyond question authentic. 
 
 Here, however, is the so-called house of Saint Paul, 
 which of course we visited. In the ample courtyard there is 
 an ancient well which goes by the name of "Saint Paul's 
 
THE HOUSE AND WELL OP SAINT PAUL. 
 
 515 
 
 noth- 
 
 Paul, 
 
 iere is 
 
 •aul's 
 
 "Well," whose curbstone is worn (lee}) in many ])laces by the 
 ropes whicii for countless generations have drawn the wjiter 
 from its licjuid (le])ths. AV'e also drew a bucket of water 
 and quenched our thirst and looked down into the silent 
 depths which reflected the eye of the sun as it doul)tless 
 did when the boy Saul })eered down into its <le])ths, for these 
 ancient wells are amon<j: the most authentic as tliev are the 
 most indestructii)le evidences of antiquity. 
 
 The house of Saint Paul, which occupies one side of this 
 courtyard, is no doubt a conq)aratively modern sti'ucture, but 
 it is quite possible that it stands ujmn the site of Saint Paul's 
 own domicile. It was formei'ly the residence of the Ameri- 
 can Vice-Consul at Tarsus, and we were very hospitably 
 welcomed by his widow into their sittinf^-room, a comfort- 
 able apartment surrounded on three sides by broad Turkish 
 divans, but containing no very noticeable features or me- 
 mentoes. 
 
 In another part of the city is a fine Armenian church 
 and school, near which stands a gnarled and rugged tree 
 wiiich tradition for many generations has called "Saint 
 Paul's tree." For many years it has l)een withered and 
 utterly dead, and it is not altogether impossible that it may 
 have been growing eighteen hundred years ago, and that 
 the boy Saul played under its shady branches. At any rate, 
 its wood seems to be almost indestructiljle, for when, with 
 the permission of the authorities which owned it, I tried to 
 cut a sliver from its trunk as a memento, it almost turned 
 the blade of my penknife, so compact was the iron fibre of 
 the wood. 
 
 But of all the institutions connected with the name of 
 Saint Paul the one most interesting to me was Saint I'aul's 
 School, which was founded by the late Col. Elliott F. Shep- 
 herd, On the very day of our arrival in Tarsus news of his 
 
iif! 
 
 516 
 
 DTRT AND FILTH EVERYWHERE. 
 
 M 
 
 lamented death had been cabled across the sea, and teachers 
 and scholars alike were in profound sorrow in conse(pience. 
 However, their sorrow was mitigated when it was learned 
 after a little that he had endowed the school with $100,U(>(> 
 by his last will and testament. A fine, manl\', courageous 
 set of bovs were these who Avere gathered together to the 
 number of nearly one hundred in this historic citv, and 
 according to their ability and opportunity, many will go out 
 from this school in the future Avith the spirit of Saint Paul 
 to do for their land what he did for all the world. 
 
 From Tarsus to Adana is twenty miles further by rail, and 
 in this latter city we si)ent two or three memorable days, for 
 they introduced us largely to missionary Avork in Turkey, 
 and acquainted us AA'ith seA'^eral braA^e hearts Avho are here 
 quietly and unostentatiously AA'orking for the JVlaster. Here, 
 too, AA'e got our first extended a'Icav of genuine Turkish life. 
 
 Here Turkey is neither at its AA'orst nor at its best. Pro- 
 testant influence has leaA^ened and eleA^ated the tone of the 
 city to some extent, but the many minarets from Avhich flA'^e 
 times a day at the hour of prayer the muezzin sounds his 
 call shows that the predominating influence is still most 
 strongly Mohammedan. The horrible streets full of pitfalls 
 and miry clay, the filthy alleys AA'hich serA^e as receptacles 
 for rubbish and sAA'ill, garbage and dead animals of A^arious 
 kinds, shoAV that insufferable dirt is one concomitant of 
 Turkish rule. 
 
 One of our errands AA'hile in Adana took us to the Yali or 
 goA^ernor of the proA^nce, for AA'-e desired of him passports 
 and a safe conduct across the country to Constantinople. 
 Let us take this AA'alk and A^sit the Yali together this morn- 
 ing. As AA'e turn out of the mission house, Avhere aa'c are 
 making our home, Ave see at a glance that Ave are in the 
 very heart of Turkey. EA'ery person Avliom Ave meet, even 
 
 Mv 
 

 THE UBIQUITOUS TURKISH FEZ. 517 
 
 the occasional foreigner, if ho is of the male persuasion 
 Avears the inevitable red Turkish fez, and most of them arj 
 clad m baggy trousers and long loose garments whicii reach 
 below the knee. In one of the narrow streets though which 
 
 OUR TTTRKISH PASSPORT. 
 
 we pass we see the ^reaver of goafs hair plying his trade 
 almost on tlie sidewalk. i . o » uaue 
 
 This was the very same material, doubtless, of which 
 Paul made h,s tents, and perhaps he wove the cloth in the 
 
 Zl T Z "™ ""*" "*" ™"^ ""^^ ^"O f-'^th from one 
 end to the other of his long l«,m, deftly twirling his bobbin 
 
518 
 
 IN THE STREETS OF A TURKISH CITY. 
 
 and twisting the strands of goat's hair which afterwards will 
 be made up into a* rough and serviceable cloth. 
 
 On the other side of the street from tlie goat's hair man- 
 ufacturer is a mill in which sesame oil is being expressed. 
 The sesame seed is run into a great hopper after being 
 soaked for a sufficient time in the vats, and is then ground 
 very line beneath the revolving stones which are turned by 
 a tread-mill ox, while the oil, thick and dirty, runs out into 
 the vats beneath from a crevice in the mill-stone. This oil is 
 very much prized by the natives, and is used largely in mak- 
 ing a popular kind of sweetmeat, which one cannot fail to 
 appreciate if he spends many days in Turkey, so toothsome 
 and nourishing is it. 
 
 And now in our walk, we come to the market-place of 
 the town, a long covered street lined with little booths on 
 either side, in which everything imaginable and many things 
 unimaginable are sold. Hardware and crockery, dry goods 
 and groceries, fish, flesh, and fowl, and good red herrings, 
 too, for aught I know, are all sold in this busy bazaar. Here 
 are money changers and shoemakers, fez manufacturers and 
 kettle makers, all jostling one another side by side in their 
 narrow booths. It is a scene of infinite life and varietv, and 
 would long delay our footsteps, if we were not hurrying on 
 to see his Excellency, the Vali of Adana, to learn whether or 
 not we may be allowed to make the journey on which we 
 have set our hearts. 
 
 Not far beyond the market place is the so-called " palace," 
 but a sorry looking palace it is, indeed, for it strikes us that 
 it might more properly be called the " sheds," since it consists 
 of a long row of poor wooden structures around a large 
 quadrangle. However, it is more picturesque and impress- 
 ive to speak of the Vali's "palace" rather than the Vali's 
 " sheds," so we will stick to the Turkish nomenclature. 
 
OUR INTERVI .V WITH THE VALI. 
 
 519 
 
 ="5 
 
 lat 
 
 Passing iiuuiy Turkish guards and a largo number of im- 
 portant looking officials, who push aside for us numerous 
 stiff hangings of heavy quilted stuffs which take tiie place of 
 doors, we find ourselves soon in a large shal)l)V room hung 
 with faded red tapestry, and in the presence of the Vali him- 
 self, lie is a grave looking man of fifty years, or therea- 
 bouts, with a good face which indicates that he is willing to 
 do what he can for our comfort and convenience. First, he 
 politely passed us a cigarette, which we as politely declined, 
 and then, apologizing for not giving us coffee and other 
 refreshments because it was Ramidan, he talked very pleas- 
 antly for a little while of various matters, while our mission- 
 ary guide interpreted his Turkish into our English. Then 
 insisting that we should not go to Constantinoj)le by way of 
 Marsovan, which just then was the center of the Armenian 
 disturbance, but that we should go by way of Angora which 
 was more peaceful, he very readily gave us the necessary 
 passports or tezkereis, and also a safe conduct, or " bouyou- 
 rouldou." This document was written in huge Turkish 
 characters, not straight across the page, but in a slanting, 
 irregular, reckless kind of a fashion in which all official 
 Turkish documents are written, for it is not at all aufait to 
 Avrite such papers in ordinary epistolary style. 
 
 Such bold and vigorous penmanship is supposed to strike 
 terror to the hearts of all evil doers who may be confronted 
 by it. It shows them that it is an official document, and, as 
 we proved more than once during the long journey before 
 us, there is nothing like a governor s bouyourouldou to insure 
 a safe and happy transit across the fields of Turkey. 
 
 One of the two days Avhich we spent in Adana was Sun- 
 day, and I had the pleasure of preaching to a very large and 
 intelligent congregation gathered in the American Mission 
 Church. The church itself is not an extremely large one, 
 
I! 
 
 r 
 
 1, 
 
 520 
 
 PREACHINO TO A TrRKISH CONGREGATION, 
 
 but as souts are done away with, and as tlio coiioivfration 
 squats on tlio Moor as closely as men, women, and childivn 
 can 1)0 wedded together, many liundi'cds of ])eo[)le can be 
 gathered into a comi)aratively small ai'ca. Of course it is not 
 proper for men and women to sit together promiscuously in 
 the same part of the church. In many churches women are 
 
 
 
 
 A 8YUI.\N WOMAN OK Tlir, I.OWKIt CLASS. 
 
 relegated to the galh^y, or are coidlned beiiind tlie lattice 
 screen in the back part of the church through wiiich they 
 can peep at the preacher, l)ut through which they cannot be 
 seen by ])r'3aclier or congr(>gation. 
 
 In A(hina, however, the middle wall or ))artition between 
 the men and women was mad(^ in a dilTerent way. The 
 long row of benches i-an through the center of the church 
 
AN AUniENCK OF SgUATTKRS. 
 
 5n 
 
 I lattice 
 
 they 
 
 ot be 
 
 'tween 
 The 
 Icburch 
 
 from the pul))it to the doov. On tliesc hiMU-hes sat a t'hise 
 line of uuMi with their backs nngallantly turntHl toward the 
 women, who occu])ie(l thes])aceon the rii^'ht hand side of the 
 cluirch, screened from tho other men by the backs of tlio 
 husbands and lathers wiio thus iill'ord an clVcctual bari'ier 
 between the two sexes. 
 
 These hi^li seats in the sanetnary are much coveted, I 
 understand, by the; older 
 and more diirnified men of 
 
 tl 
 
 le C( )n 
 
 li-reiiation, and no 
 
 one IS. avei'se 
 
 tod 
 
 oniii' ( 
 
 luty 
 
 as a Hvinii- screen. All the 
 
 men won^ red lezzes wliilo 
 
 tl 
 
 le c 
 
 hief 
 
 si)eaKer was ( 
 
 lis- 
 
 tin<'-uished by a iauntv em- 
 l)roider(Hl bhu^ cap which 
 looked somethinu" like a 
 
 smokinii' 
 
 cai). 
 
 This 
 
 he I'e- 
 
 moved durin<!' the services 
 
 a t w U\ 
 
 c li h ei 
 
 olHciated. 
 
 AVhen I thou<^ht that every 
 ])ossible inch of s<iuattin<;' 
 room was occupied on the 
 side of the i)ai'ti- 
 
 A HYltlAN WOMAN OK THK IIKTTKU C I.AflS. 
 
 wonu'U s 
 
 tion, woman after woman wouhl come in, stand on one foot 
 for some little time in the smallest possible sj)ace, until her 
 sisters befoi'e and behin<l and on either side pulled away their 
 skirts, drew their knees a little closer togetliei', and so made 
 room for the late C(mier. 
 
 At last the church was absolutely full, the service began, 
 and a very helpful, reverent, and stimulating service it was 
 so far as I could judge; though I could not understand the 
 hymns or the Scripture readings or the notices, and the ser- 
 
I'M 
 
 523 
 
 THE COLLECTION BOX IN TURKEY. 
 
 
 
 felt 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 
 m, 
 
 M 
 
 '■I 
 
 mon, which I fear was the poorest part of tlie service, was 
 laboriously translated from English into Turkish. I did 
 understand the collection box, however, which is the same in 
 all languages. 
 
 It is very certain that such a congregation as this repre- 
 sents the veiv best elements in a Turkish town. Not that 
 
 OUR LIFE I'HESERVEK. 
 
 (Facsimile of our "Bouyouroulclou."J 
 
 the Armenians themselves are superior to the Turks as a 
 race, in fact, it would bo strange, if, raler these centuries of 
 oppression and tyranny their national characteristics should 
 be very manly or strong. Those who live in Turkey say 
 that the Turk, when found free from government influence 
 and not under government employ, is the most honest, 
 manly, and straightforward man in the empire. He makes 
 
REMARKABLE IGNORANCE AND AMUSING QUESTIONS. 523 
 
 
 as a 
 
 I'ies of 
 
 Ihould 
 
 fey say 
 
 luence 
 
 lonest, 
 
 knakes 
 
 a faithful servant and a true friend, but lie belongs to the 
 present order of things. He is part of the machine which is 
 used to crush the life out of this poor land and the manliness 
 out of the subject races Avho inhabit it. The only hope 
 which I see for Turkey is found in these mission churches 
 and mission schools which are always connected with them. 
 When the upheaval comes, as surely it will come one of these 
 days, the educated Armenian Protestants will hold the key 
 of the situation in their' hands. Then will be seen the value 
 of missionary influence and missionary work during these 
 long decades, and that which has been sown in tears will be 
 reaped in joy, and many a faithful missionary will sing the 
 " Harvest Home," bearing himself the largest sheaf which 
 it is possible for mortal to reap. 
 
 The ignorance of the average Turk concerning places and 
 people beyond him is most extraordinary and amusing. 
 Many of them have verv little idea that Turkey does not rule 
 all the rest of the world, including America, and many of 
 the Turks have only just begun to wonder if it is possible 
 that all the people of the world are not Mohammedans. One 
 of these conceited and ignorant natives said to a friend of 
 mine a little while ago : " You are constantly talking 
 about America. Kow is this America on a hill or is it situ- 
 ated in a valley?" Another, Avlien walking outside of a 
 Turkish city, in a most flat, uninteresting suburb, which was 
 chiefly noticeable for its rubbish and its dead cats, where my 
 friend assured me he had to hold his nose in order to escape 
 the stifling stench, was asked by a native friend by his side : 
 " Did you ever see anything as beautiful as this in America?" 
 It is difficult, indeed, to enlighten such dense ignorance. 
 
 Two days in Adana sufficed to make all our preparations 
 for the coming journey. In fact, the friend who had come 
 from the interior to meet us with his faithful Turkish servant. 
 
i^r 
 
 534 PREPARING FOR OUR JOURNEY ACROSS TURKEY. 
 
 had already made most of these preparations before we had 
 come. The spring wagon, the pride of the tom-ing mission- 
 ary, had come all the long journey across the mountains to 
 carry us back within its capacious interior. Our passports 
 and our safe conduct were all correctly vised. Our Turkish 
 guard, the soldier who was to protect us from all the robbers 
 and dangers in the way, armed cap-a-jrie, was to meet us at 
 Tarsus next day, whence we should set out for our long over- 
 land trip, fraught as it was with Unknown dangers and 
 difficulties. 
 
 
CIIAI'TEU XXVIII. 
 
 A REMARKA-BLE JOURNEY ACROSS ASIA MINOR m A SPRING 
 WAGON -THRILLING EXPERIENCES BY THE AVAY-A 
 DANGEROUS RIDE. 
 
 An Imposing Cavalcade -Foolish "Franks"_An Arsenal of Archaic 
 Weapons- Ali. the Turk- Anastas, the Errand Boy- "Meat '- 
 PHlor'T^ «c;'>c''y- Snowcapped Lebanon -Eloquent Ruins-Our 
 Fellow Travelers -Caravans of Can>els-The Patient Donkey- 
 
 The Motto of the Spoons-The Story of the Dervish -The Holy Vss 
 Dirt St" ";' T f "^•^-^-^■">"^' ^>^f "- -'Evil Eye"--' You 
 Tm ev \ T Z^ f '''''""' «=^l"^'^tion-The Mother-in-Law in 
 
 luikcj -A Typical Turkish Khan -Sharing a Bed witii the Camels 
 -Through the Cilician Gates-The "Bad Five Miles"-Hou- Ve 
 S Sehm. ^"" "''"'' *'" '"^"""'^ Mountains-In the Guest Room 
 
 T was a bright spring morning 
 when we set out from Tarsus for 
 the long journey across the Tau- 
 rus mountains and over tiie 
 plains of Asa Minor for the 
 beautiful city on the Golden 
 Horn. We formed quite an im- 
 posing cavalcade for tliese roads 
 unaccustomed to wheeled ve- 
 hicles. Tlio camel drivers stared 
 at our wagon, the donkey boys 
 pricked up their ears as they saw 
 us approaching, and gazed at us until we had disa])peared in 
 the dim distance, wondering, wo suppose, why those 
 •'Franks" should be so foolish as to start across the^country 
 in wagons when they could so mucli more easily go by sea. 
 
 ( 525 ) 
 
-i 
 
 )■ " 
 
 il 
 
 52G 
 
 A NATIVE TRAVELING OUTFIT. 
 
 In front of us pranced our Turkish soldier, or Zabtiyeh, 
 who had made himself a perfect arsenal of obsolete av capons. 
 Then came the two-horse Avagon into which Avas packed not 
 only our three selves and our missionary guide and driver, 
 but four cot beds with appropriate bedding, pillows, blank- 
 ets, and coverlets for the cool nights, and a huge basketful 
 of provisions which our kind host had packed for us with 
 the utmost care, and which was supposed to be enough, 
 when supplemented by occasional draughts on native stores 
 by the way, to last us to Caesarea, six days distant. 
 
 Following this wagoa came a disreputable-looking spring- 
 less cart drawn by two specimens of Turkish horse flesh, 
 and carrying two trunks and various provisions in the Avay 
 of bedding and provender for men and beasts. The driver 
 and owner of this cart was a native who wished to get to 
 Caesarea and who was glad to earn a few chereks on the 
 way. 
 
 "With him was our faithful servant Ali, a character in his 
 way, shrewd, kindly, competent, and faithful to the last de- 
 gree, a man who, I verily believe, Avould lay doAvn his life 
 for his master or for any one in the party if danger came in 
 the AA'-ay. Nominal Turk though he AA^as, his allegiance to 
 the false prophet evidently sat very lightly upon him, for he 
 always appeared at prayers morning and night, and seemed 
 to be among the most devout AA'orshipers- at the Protestant 
 church services on the Avay. To avoAV himself a convert to 
 Christianity Avould doubtless baA^e compelled hhn either to 
 forfeit his life or his country. His courage as yet Avas not 
 quite equal to this supreme test, though I have no doubt that 
 in heart he AA'as a sincere Christian. 
 
 Together Avith Ali and the driver was an assistant, a sort 
 of general errand-boy, fire-builder, Avood-carrier, and Avater- 
 drawer, named Anastas. He had run aAvay from home 
 
" MEAT, MEAT." 
 
 627 
 
 , a sort 
 water- 
 home 
 
 
 some weeks ])reviously, but was now heartily sick of his fool- 
 ish adventure and was quite willing to work his passage 
 back to Caesarea once more. The little pilgrim seemed to 
 liave a wonderful attraction for him. Anastas could 
 scarcely keep his eyes or his hands off him. He would fol- 
 low him about all day like a big, good-natured shepherd dog. 
 He would run races with him and chase hamsters and en- 
 gage in stone-flinging matches, and every now and then he 
 would come up to him and taking his hand would say very 
 impressively, " Meat, meat." For a long time we could not 
 understand the significance of this word, until it was at last 
 explained to us that he thought this was the little pilgrim's 
 name, as he had heard some one asking him to pass the meat 
 at the dinner table. Jumping at this conclusion from such 
 uncertain premises he was not able to get the idea out of his 
 head during all the long journey, but in every way possible 
 showed his interest and affection in his little friend " Meat." 
 For a short distance from Tarsus we were escorted by 
 two of the faithful teachers of Saint Paul's institute to 
 which I have before alluded. Then they turned their horses, 
 bade us adieu, and galloped back to Tarsus, leaving us alone 
 with the long three-weeks journey before us. For a little 
 way out of Tarsus the road is tolerably good as Turkish 
 roads go, and in some places it is possible for horses which 
 are fresh and ready for the journey to trot for a little way. 
 But soon the hills begin and the roads become unuttersi ly 
 rough and rugged. The air, however, is clear and bracing, 
 our spirits are good, and the view becomes at every step 
 more entrancing. As we look back we see the fertile plain 
 of Adana stretched before us, and beyond the snow-capped 
 mountains of Lebanon, while before us, rising peak on peak, 
 are the magnificent heights of the Taurus. There are feAV 
 more magnificent mountain ranges in the world and few are 
 
- 4 
 
 ;) 
 
 
 latii 
 
 h 
 
 528 
 
 A COUNTRY OF WONDERFUL INTEREST. 
 
 less frequently visited iu these days tluui this mighty ninge 
 which forms the biickhone of Asia Minor. 
 
 In ancient times, to be sure, it was different. The com- 
 merce of a good part of the Avorld ^xjured through these 
 rocky defiles, and the Cilician Gate through which we shall 
 soon pass, was the highway f(^r innumerable caravans of 
 costly goods, for armies, and for travelers of all degrees and 
 conditions in life. 
 
 Across these mountains traveled the Ai)ostle Paul more 
 than once. This same wav came Cicero and other lloman 
 statesmen scarcely less distinguished, while the armies of 
 enii)erors frequently defiled through these narrow gorges. 
 
 AVe are not only in a country of surjiassing natural beauty 
 but one of wonderful historic interest. These craggy peaks 
 and hilltops, if they could speak, would a tale unfold of wars 
 and rumors of wars, of civilization advancing and retrograd- 
 ing, of nations waxing and waning, of armies marching and 
 countermarching, which could not be told by any other 
 mountain peaks in the world. In these silent fields and be- 
 neath these occasional ruins are, doubtless, buried historical 
 treasures of the rarest and most unique interest. I^ut the 
 oppressive govei'nment regulations make it impossible for 
 any arclueologist to dig for hidden treasure, and, Avhile the 
 present regime lasts, the world will be none the Aviser con- 
 cerning these relics of the past. 
 
 The fellow travelers whom we meet or pass on the road 
 are all of one description ; no hacks or four-in-hand turn- 
 outs do we see, no talb'-ho coaches or gigs or buggies, no 
 bicycles or tricycles, no phaetons or landaus, not even a 
 baby carriage or anything else on wheels, do we meet, but 
 long processions of knock-kneed, ragged camels, carrying, 
 strapped to their patient backs, and dangling on either side, 
 a heavy load of some five or six hundred pounds in Aveight, 
 
mge 
 
 coin- 
 :hese 
 sluill 
 IS of 
 s luul 
 
 more 
 
 Loinaii 
 
 lies of 
 
 ves. 
 
 beauty 
 
 ' peaks 
 
 )i wars 
 
 rograd- 
 
 ng aiul 
 other 
 mcl be- 
 storical 
 3ut the 
 i\)le for 
 iiile the 
 er con- 
 
 [he road 
 nl turn- 
 [•jiies, no 
 even a 
 leet, but 
 Jarrying, 
 her side, 
 weight, 
 
 CARAVANS OF KNOCK-KNEED CAMELS. 
 
 529 
 
 which, for many weary days, they must bear as they go 
 swaying and stumbling across the country from sea to sea. 
 
 These camels are very rarely met with singly, but usu- 
 ally in caravans of from ten to one hundred, loosely tied 
 together by a string or small rope which can easily be- 
 broken, so that in case one of the camels wanders out of the 
 
 ■Jl iTuMyyi "^ I '.11 n_ _ _ ^^ ^ . - r^'^^'- - -^^ 
 
 
 A SHIP OF THE DKSKHT. 
 
 line or falls over a precipice, the Avhole caravan may not go 
 
 with him. 
 
 Usually preceding the camels and leading the wliole train 
 
 by a chain attached to his bridle, is an absurdly diminutive 
 
 donkey on whose back is often perched a very large Turk, 
 
 whose huge feet (they all seem to wear number eighteen in 
 
 this country) sway liack and forth and dig viciously into the 
 
 sides of the little beast with every step he takes. 
 
 One is never tired of these strange processions of men and 
 33 
 
530 
 
 TURKISH GREETINGS. 
 
 t 
 
 ii 
 
 • 
 
 i 
 
 variously assorted beasts. It always seems to us as if the 
 huge camel would be ashamed of the long-eared little guide 
 which leads the way, and as though the look of supercilious 
 scorn Avhicli he always wears, Avas assumed to show his in- 
 ' difference to the indignities that are heaped upon him. 
 
 Our fellow travelers, however, Ave find are by no means 
 destitute of politeness or cordiality. In fact, they could give 
 many points to the boors of our crowded modern thorough- 
 fares in the way of gentle coui'tesy on the road. Almost 
 everv camel driver and donkev bov whom Ave i)ass nudces a 
 kindly bow to us, and cries out as Ave get within earshot, 
 " Oughourlar olsoun," Avhicli means Avhen translated, " xV 
 pleasant journey to you." If Ave are suiiiciently up in our 
 Turkish to respond in a ])ro])er numner, avc shall reply to 
 him, " Sagli olsoiin," Avhereby Ave mean to say, '" Long life to 
 you my friend." 
 
 These greetings Avhicli one receiA'es upon the Avay in 
 Turkey, and in every house Avhich he enters, at every table 
 at Avliich he sits, and on all possible occasions, are exceed- 
 ingly pleasant and shoAV an inbred courtesy Avhich speaks 
 Avell for the fundamental character of the race Avhicli has 
 coined and adopted them as a part of its common verbal cur- 
 rency. For instance, Avlien Ave enter a Turkish house Ave are 
 often greeted by this kindly phrase, " Khouda el inden 
 yapusha," Avhich, being inter})reted, means, " May the 
 Almighty cling to your hand," a most beautiful Avay of ex- 
 ])ressing greeting and good Avill and continued blessing. 
 The resjionse very often is, " Akubetin Khair olsoun," Avhich 
 means, "■ ^lay your end be good," or, in other Avords, as 
 every Mohammedan interprets it in his OAvn mind, " May 
 you become a good IMoslem before you die." "When one 
 rises from the tal)le Avliere he has partaken of all the good 
 things Avhicli his host can offer, if he is versed in Turkish 
 
ORIENTAL POLITENESS. 
 
 531 
 
 if the 
 niiicle 
 [lilious 
 liis in- 
 
 means 
 1(1 give 
 )rongU- 
 Alinost 
 nukes a 
 eavsliot, 
 eel, "A 
 ) in our 
 reply to 
 \g life to 
 
 way in 
 ;ry table 
 
 exceed- 
 H speaks 
 iiich has 
 H-bal cur- 
 ie we ai'e 
 |el inden 
 ^lav the 
 
 ly of ex- 
 
 1 blessing. 
 
 which 
 
 'ords, as 
 
 ^1, "May 
 hen one 
 
 [the good 
 Turkish 
 
 politeness he will sa}', " Berekot versin," " Let it give a bless- 
 
 ing. 
 
 "When we receive a present, hoAvever slight it may be, the 
 recipient says, " Elenize dagh Ink " whicli is not our meagi'e, 
 conventional " Thank you," but is a poetic ex})ression mean- 
 ing, " Health to your hands, my dear sir." 
 
 For special and peculiar services there are special and jie- 
 culiar expressions of ap})reciation and thanks, and not one 
 
 ^«Fn^^ 
 
 
 ■■'; f. .■■_■■<-""■'•"• -•v.V'r^" >v ''■-•■..'■* y^rt •'"-i-/. ■.-.?". •>- . "v. vi- ^ , 
 
 NATIVE KIIUUDS OF ASIA MINOK. 
 
 unvarying meaningless formula, as in Western languages. 
 For instance, when a Turk receives a drink from a friend of 
 anything but coffee, he remarks as he hands back the empty 
 cup, " Afiyet olsoun," by which he means to say, " May it be 
 for your health." AYIiy he does not make this same response 
 when treated to coflPee I have never yet been able to under- 
 stand. 
 
 Even the wooden spoons with which Ave dip into the com- 
 mon bowl Avliich always graces the center of the Turkish 
 dinner table, are decorated Avith a motto of hospitality and 
 
14 
 
 I 
 
 *'. 
 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 533 
 
 A GOOD STORY. 
 
 good clieer, such as, " Eat, my friend, eat," or " Pardon our 
 poor fare and call it not entirely tasteless." Or, })erhaps it 
 may be, " Consider not the jjoor food which is set before 
 you, but the spirit in which it is given." 
 
 As we journey along, we frequently see by the roadside 
 a scrubby tree, from every branch and twig of which flut- 
 ters a rag. Some of the rags are bleached and Aveather- 
 beaten, and have evidently been tied to the tree for many a 
 long day, while others look as though they had been just 
 • attached. These trees mark the sacred spot where the grave 
 of some holy man is supposed to be, and every pilgrim Avho 
 passes that way ties a new rag to the tree to propitiate the 
 saint buried beneath, and to insure for himself a speedier 
 entrance into heaven. 
 
 The old dervishes frequently make a very good living by 
 establishing themselves near one of these trees, and asking 
 alms of all who pass by. 
 
 A good story is told of a poor old dervish who lost all 
 his Avorldly goods, and set out on a new pilgrimage with his 
 family and his faithful donkey. For a time they lived in 
 great poverty, but in the course of a few years a new-made 
 grave under a spreading tree by -which the dervish had en- 
 camped, obtained a great reputation for sanctity. Many 
 were the pilgrims Avho resorted hither. Many were the dis- 
 eases that were healed, and the good fortunes that were told 
 beside that holy grave. The tree became decorated with all 
 sorts and sizes and colors of rags, for most of the pilgrims 
 who ])ass that Avay are clad in an abundant supjily of tat- 
 tered and filthy garments. The old dervish became pros- 
 perous and Avaxed fat, but after a Avhile his son became un- 
 easy and dissatisfied Avith the Avay he AA^as living, so he 
 started out for himself to make his oAvn fortune in the AA'orld. 
 Thinking there Avas no easier Avay than that Avliich his father 
 
 1 
 
 il: 
 
EMBLEMS OF GOOD LUCK. 
 
 533 
 
 OUV 
 
 ps it 
 jfore 
 
 dside 
 tlut- 
 ither- 
 any a 
 a just 
 grave 
 a who 
 ite the 
 peedier 
 
 ang by 
 asking 
 
 lost all 
 vith his 
 ived in 
 |w-made 
 had en- 
 Many 
 the dis- 
 ere told 
 lAvith all 
 pilgrims 
 of tat- 
 le pros- 
 ;ame nn- 
 T, so he 
 ,e worhl. 
 lis father 
 
 
 had pointed out, ho estal)lished a lioly place of liis own not 
 far off, and seated himself by another grave uniler another 
 green tree. 
 
 So popular did this new resort become that the ohl 
 dervish's po})ularity began to wane, so he went to visit his 
 son, and, when he found him, he asked him the cause of his 
 sudden popularity. " "Well," said the youth who hail bettered 
 his father's instructions, '" you tell me who is buried in your 
 holy grave and I will tell you who is buried in mine." '' My 
 old donkey died," frankly confessed the father. " I mourned 
 over her and buried her under the green tree. People came 
 to worship at the new-made grave, and it was not my busi- 
 ness to tell them who was buried there since they received 
 so much benelit from their pilgrimage. And nmv tell me, 
 my son, who occupies the grave over which you keep watch?" 
 " Ah," answered the cliii) of the old block, " I followed your 
 example, and in my grave is buried the foal of your ass." 
 
 This story, which is told with great gusto in different 
 parts of Turkey just as the tales accredited to Abraham 
 Lincoln are heard in all parts of America, illustrates the 
 superstitious ignorance of the common people. In a hundred 
 other ways are these superstitions manifest. Every camel 
 and donkey that we meet has upon his neck a string of blue 
 glass beads, Avhich are supposed to keep off the " evil eye," 
 and no camel driver Avould think for a moment of leaving 
 home without decorating every animal in his caravan with 
 these emblems of good luck. 
 
 Yery often mothers are seen slapjiing their children in a 
 most vicious way, and calling them "ugly brutes," and 
 "dirty brats," and all kinds of opprobrious names. "We 
 soon find, however, that this shows no lack of maternal 
 affection, but is simply the mother's way of warding off evil 
 and blight from the child. She thinks that if the evil spirits 
 
n 
 
 I 'I 
 
 634 
 
 INDIGNITIES BORNE BY TURKISH WOMEN. 
 
 ' ) 
 
 hear her disparage lier child and call him an " ugly brute," 
 
 they will not think it worth while to trouble him, and so tlie 
 
 evil eye will be averted. 
 
 But, at the best, women and children in this land, as in 
 
 all heathen and semi-heathen lands, have a hard time. The 
 
 Avomen are looked upon as 
 beasts of burden. Doubt is of- 
 ten expressed as to whether or 
 not they really have souls, and 
 even by the most enlightened 
 Turk their souls are not sup- 
 ])osed to be of the same dimen- 
 sions as those of their husbands 
 and brothers and so.ns. JS^o ac- 
 count is taken of the girls by 
 ,^ many men when they reckon 
 
 up their families, and the mise- 
 ries of a bride in a Turkish 
 house are often unutterable. 
 Abused and despised, beaten 
 and forsaken, with no redress 
 and no opportunity to tell her 
 woes, she can only gain com- 
 fort from the thought that some- 
 time she will be a mother-in- 
 law herself, and can take it 
 out in abusing her daughter- 
 in-law to her heart's content, just as freshmen, Avhen they are 
 harrowetl and hazed, put under the pump, and initiated into 
 the iiorrors of the secret society, comfort themselves with the 
 thought that next year they will be so[)homores, and there 
 will be another class of freshmen for them to haze. 
 
 It must not be thought that we make any remarkable 
 
 A 8YKIAN POTTLTHY SKI.LEH. 
 
ate," 
 u the 
 
 as in 
 The 
 
 n us 
 is of- 
 
 aer or 
 
 s, and 
 
 itened 
 
 »t sup- 
 
 linien- 
 
 sbands 
 
 No ac- 
 
 h'ls by 
 
 reckon 
 
 e mise- 
 
 Cui'kish 
 
 terable. 
 ])eaten 
 edress 
 
 tell her 
 n com- 
 it some- 
 )ther-in- 
 take it 
 lughtcr- 
 they are 
 Ited into 
 'ith the 
 \d there 
 
 IN A TURKISH GRAVE-YARD. 
 
 535 
 
 lar 
 
 ■kable 
 
 speed in this journey across the Taurus mountains. "We are 
 not tryin*^ to solve the problem of ra})i(l transit, and an 
 average of three miles an hour, and of from tiiirty to thirty- 
 five miles a day we consider very good traveling. 
 
 The first day out from Tarsus Ave stop[)ed at a place 
 which rejoiced in the eu[)lioni<)us name of " Grave Yard 
 Spout," and, in spite of its name, it was one of the pleasantest 
 places where we made our camp in all the journey. 
 
 Let me introduce you to this tj^pical Turkish khan at 
 "Grave Yard Spout." "We have not yet reached the old 
 Cilician Gates, but have been climbing tlie slopes of the 
 Taurus mountains all day long, and by nightfall are well U[> 
 toward the line of everlasting snow. From these limitless 
 snow fields the brooks of sparkling Avater come dancing 
 down. Their narro»7 channels down the steep mountain 
 sides have something the ai)pearance of eaves-troughs on a 
 house, hence the " spout." On one side of the hill Avhere Ave 
 are to spend the night are a number of Tui-kish gra\'es Avith 
 rude, unhewn stones set up to nuirk the last resting place of 
 the Moslem, hence the " grave-yard." A low, stone building 
 on one side of the road, mostly Ijuried out of sight on its 
 lower side by huge piles of rubbish and numure, indicates 
 the spot AAdiere Ave are to spend the night. Into the open 
 doorway camels and donkeys, horses, drivers, and ])ilgriius 
 all enter, for the Tui'k believes that Avhat is good en(jugh for 
 his beast is good enough for him, and he never begrudges 
 his OAAm quarters to his jxitient camel or faithful ass. 
 
 However, there is one room divided by a slight board 
 partition from the rest of tiie khan, and into this the more 
 fastidious pilgi'ims are allowed to go to spend the night. To 
 be sure, it is a iilthy ])lace almost beyond description, and 
 swarming Avith vermin. It has not been Avashed since the 
 day the khan avus l)uilt, and, perhaps, has not been swept out 
 
536 
 
 ROUGHING IT. 
 
 I 
 
 for a \ear. But it is the best place wliich the region affords, 
 and we will not grumble. Besides, have we not^ cot beds 
 which can be set up out of the way of the dirt and largely 
 out of the way of the fleas as well? Have we not clean 
 sheets and bedspreads, and a good supply of wholesome 
 provisions of our own { Then what more can we ask, with 
 fresh and mvigorating mountain air to breathe, sparkling 
 cold Avater in which to bathe, and all out-doors in which to 
 exercise? Appetite lends a splendid sauce to every meal, 
 and this bread and cheese, these eggs which Ali boils in the 
 fireplace, and the pilaff which he concocts with rice and 
 other ingredients, though mysterious, are most toothsome 
 and nourishing. So we eat our evening meal, say our even- 
 ing prayer of thanksgiving and petition for protection, and 
 lie down to })leasanter dreams than any surfeited millionaire 
 ever enjoyed. 
 
 In the morning we are up betimes, sometimes long before 
 daylight, for the success of the day's journey depends upon 
 getting a good start. By the light of the gray dawn we 
 drink our morning coffee, tie up our beds and bedding, pack 
 the wagons, harness the horses, and are off just as the rising 
 sun illuminates the frosty mountain peaks, and turns the 
 descending rivulets into ropes of sparkling diamonds. 
 
 About noon we stop for a hasty midday meal, and then 
 press on again in order to reach the khan where Ave are to 
 spend tlie night before sundoAvn, Avhere the same process of 
 unpacking and setting u]> the beds, getting supper and eat- 
 ing it, going to bed and getting up in the morning, repack- 
 ing and starting on our journey, is repeated day after day 
 until the journey ends. 
 
 The second day out Ave came to the Cilician Gates, 
 and here culminates tlie magnificent scenery Avhicli has 
 been growing grander and grander Avith every passing mile. 
 
rds, 
 jeds 
 
 geiy 
 
 ilean 
 ;ome 
 with 
 kling 
 3h to 
 meal, 
 n the 
 3 and 
 lisome 
 ' even- 
 n, and 
 lonaire 
 
 before 
 s upon 
 wn we 
 pack 
 rising 
 i-ns the 
 
 id then 
 are to 
 
 THROUGH THE CILICIAN GATES. 
 
 537 
 
 bcess 
 
 of 
 
 Ind eat- 
 
 Irep 
 
 [ick- 
 
 ter day 
 
 Gates, 
 Ich has 
 \ff mile. 
 
 Here is a narrow gorge between two towering ])recipitous 
 cliffs which stretch up, up, up, for hundreds of feet above us 
 on either side. There is absolutely no other way of crossing 
 the mountain except at this point. Here, beyond a question, 
 we are on historic ground. Paul must have come through 
 this very gorge in the mountains. This old Iloman road 
 over which we are traveling was here in his time, probably a 
 far better road than it is to-day ; this soil and these stones 
 his feet must have pressed, and for the monarchs and am- 
 bassadors, the conquered and conquering armies, the mer- 
 chants and the diplomats of many centuries, tliis has been 
 the highway. 
 
 Just as we went through the Cilician Gates, where the 
 pathway is most narrow and precipitous, for a rushing tor- 
 rent disputes the roadway for passage, we met a long train 
 of at least a hundred camels, floundering over the rugged 
 road and through the muddy slouch. It seemed as thouo-h 
 our wagon could never make its way past these "ships of 
 the desert," but we had learned by this time to have un- 
 bounded faith in our missionary guide, and, sure enough, 
 without accident or serious delay we forded the stream, 
 Avallowed through the mire, climbed the banks, brushed the 
 flanks of the startled camels, and at length were through the 
 historic mountain gorge, and had passed out of old Cilicia 
 into Cai)padocia. 
 
 The third day out from Tarsus was the most exciting 
 and dangerous part of the journey. For a little Avays after 
 we left the khan, where we spent the niglit, a good road en- 
 abled us to get on at a brisk pace and cheered us with the 
 illusive liope that our worst difficulties were over ; but alas ! 
 this piece of good road was only the j)leasant prelude to the 
 very worst piece of roadway to be found in any one of the 
 five continents which we are visiting. For Ave miles tl's 
 
I' ' 
 
 538 
 
 AN EXCITINU AND DANGEROUS RIDE. 
 
 !'5 
 
 i ii 
 
 .;i 
 
 H: 
 
 i^ 
 
 road is siiii[)ly indescribable. No one who lias made this 
 journey couul [jossiljly believe that a wagon could ever be 
 transported over it, or that horses or drivcjrs could live to tell 
 the tale on the other side of "the bad ])lace," as it is signiii- 
 cantly called by all in this region. 
 
 In fact, there is no road at all. The government has not 
 even ])retended to make a road here as it has in some })laces. 
 It does not degenerate into a s(juirrcl track and run up a 
 tree, simjjly because there is no tree for it to run up, for the 
 country is as bare as the desert of Sahara. This bad five 
 miles takes us over the veiy j)eak of the Taurus mountains, 
 antl the only animals which with any degree of safety can 
 make this joui-ney are the sure-footed camels and donkeys 
 who mono})olize the trade (jf this district. Even they some- 
 times lose theii" footing and roll down the steep mountain- 
 side into the abyss below, where Ave saw the carcass of moi'e 
 than one animal which had thus met its death. 
 
 In the coui'se of the centuries the unceasing caravans of 
 camels have made a track along which, with careful steering 
 and Avith abundant providential care, a wagon can sometimes 
 make its way. We know this because we have seen a 
 wagon go over this trail. On no account could we other- 
 Avise have believed it possible, but seeing is believing in the 
 Taurus mountains as Avell as cveryAvhere else. 
 
 When we Avent down the hill on the other side of the 
 "bad live miles," all the male members of the party hung on 
 to the tail-board of the wagon to prevent it from tumbling 
 end over end over the heads (jf the horses. Sometimes the 
 rickety Avagon Avould sway ])erilously on the verge of a 
 rocky precipice. Often we would think that it Avas actually 
 going over, and Avould catch our breath as Ave ex))ected to 
 see Avagon, Ikji'scs, and driver tumble into the terrible abyss. 
 Then the di'iver Avould throw himself from side to side of the 
 
io this 
 ver be 
 to tell 
 si^nili- 
 
 liiis not 
 
 places, 
 m up a 
 
 for the 
 )acl live 
 luntains, 
 fety can 
 donkeys 
 ey sonie- 
 lountain- 
 i oi more 
 
 i-avans of 
 steering 
 )inetinies 
 } seen a 
 yc otlier- 
 mg iu the 
 
 dc of the 
 hung on 
 
 tumbling 
 kimes the 
 
 M'ii'c of a 
 [s actually 
 
 :pected to 
 
 ble abyss. 
 
 Lide of the 
 
 
 
 
 |;^<&S?:*\^ 
 
 
 
 -*^^*V'=-' 
 
 AN i:x( ri'iNii mi)Mi:nt on; kidk ackoss 'rrnKKV in a \va(;on. 
 
 Siiiiii'l Mill's tile liiUciy \viit.'iiii wdiiM Kw;iy pcrildiisly on llic vtTL'i' <if a rocky prrciplco. 
 Ol'Irii wi' would ihiiiU lli;it il vviis iictiiully L'oiiii; over, iiikI woiilil iiilch (iiir liirMlli iih we 
 ('X|icrii'i| Id SIT uiiL'iin. liiirsi's. mill iliivrf liiiiilili' inlo llii' li'i'rilili' iiliyss. 'I'ln'ii the ilrivor 
 woillil llivou liiliisrlf from siili' In side ill' llii' u,-IL'iiM Io kri'p il fliilil lopplill'^ ovrr, illlil iho 
 ri'wl 111' IIS wiiiilil lliniu mil' wriirlil on llliil side to picvrlil llli' lliri'iilriird ciitasli'opliu. 
 
11 
 
 «]'; 
 
 i;i 
 
 I 
 
 I'i 
 
ON THE VERGE OF DESTRUCTION. 541 
 
 wagon to keep it from toppling over, and the rest of us 
 would throw our weight on that side to prev^ent the threat- 
 ened catastrophe. Tiius Ave made our way down the peril- 
 ous mountain side and drew a long hreatli when we found 
 we were in the valley and realized that the worst of our 
 journey was behind us. 
 
 To be sure, it was only comparatively speaking that we 
 could find any betterment in the road as we went farther on, 
 for oftentimes, sometimes twenty times a day, we were 
 obliged to get out of the Avagon when the careful driver 
 took it around some narrow, precipitous cavern, or drove 
 over a heap of stones and boulders Avhich had slid doAvn 
 from the mountain side, or forded^ a shallow stream Avhich 
 sometimes almost carried the horses off their feet. Forty 
 times a day Ave Avould throAV our Aveight on the up-hill side 
 to prevent the Avagon from going over the bank, or stand on 
 the step for half a mile at a time to counterbalance in some 
 degree the attractions of gravitation on the other side. 
 
 But after passing this last spur of the Taurus mountains 
 Ave never thought of com])laining of any piece of road, 
 nor do Ave ever expect to complain again, Avhatever higlnvays 
 fate may have in store for us. Toward dark of the fourth 
 day out from Tarsus, Ave came to the little village Baila, 
 and as the khan Avas full of other guests Ave sought for 
 shelter in the guest-room of Selim, the elder and priest of the 
 village. Let not the idea of a "guest-room," my readers, 
 call up any luxurious notions of downy beds and costly car- 
 pets and furniture, for thouirh this guest-room AA'as the best 
 the village afforded, theic is no New England cellar or 
 Yankee coal bin Avhich it Avas CA'er our fortune to inspect, 
 that we should not liaA'e preferred to occupy. 
 
 Fortunately the room is dark, and the narrow slits 
 Avhich serve as Avindows are covered with newspapers Avhick 
 
542 
 
 A FILTHY AND HORRIBLE PLACE. 
 
 IV 
 
 are pasted over them, so that wo cannot see the lilthiness of 
 the place in all its hideousness. We do not wish for more 
 light, and after getting supper and setting up our beds we 
 turn in, to sleep the sleep of the weary. 
 
 This typical Turkish village where we have come to 
 spend the night is like hundreds and thousands of others 
 scattered all over the Empire. Perhaps there are two hun- 
 dred people within its borders, crowded together in little 
 huts of stone, which are but little higher than a tall man. 
 The roofs are flat and covered with dirt, which does verv 
 well as a roofing in dry weather, but becomes very filthy 
 and leaky Avhen a wet season sets in. 
 
 There are no streets in the village except such as are 
 made by the pathways between the houses, and these path- 
 ways are often full of pitfalls into which the unwary traveler 
 will stumble if he is not careful. In these pits are store ' in 
 winter the hay on which the goats and cattle live during the 
 cold weather. In the springtime they are mostly empty, for 
 the store has been exhausted, and very frequently at the 
 bottom of them I saw dead goats and sheep, Avhich during 
 the early spring had probal)ly starved to death and which 
 the unenterprising inhabitants had not even carried out of 
 the roadway, but had left to rot and pollute the air, and 
 breed pestilence and disease in their very streets. 
 
 Could anything be more depressing than life in these 
 wretched villages? Here are no books, no newspapers, no 
 meetings, no intellectual life of any kind. Few of the 
 houses show any light through their paper windows after 
 darkness sets in. The inhabitants have nothing to do but 
 to herd their goats all day and go to bed when darkness 
 comes. Ko wonder that the people grow up ignorant and 
 debased and absolutely devoid of ambition. The only 
 wonder is that thev are not more vicious than thev are, and 
 
AN IGNORANT AND DEBASED PEOPLE. 
 
 543 
 
 in 
 
 and 
 
 these 
 leis, no 
 lof the 
 h after 
 do but 
 larkness 
 Lnt and 
 le only 
 Ire, and 
 
 that after these centuries of intellectual torpidity and gov- 
 ernmental oppression there is anything of manliness to 
 appeal to in their natures. 
 
 And yet, that there is a natural substratum of generosity 
 and nobility in the Turkish character cannot be denied. It 
 can be accounted for very largely, I think, by the good 
 
 MUSSULMAN AT PRAYER. 
 
 features of their religion, for, mixed with superstition and 
 imposture us the faith of Mohammed is, there is something 
 in it of strength and virility. It demands unciuestioning 
 obedience and outspoken allegiance from all who profess to 
 be governed by it. No Mohammedan is ashamed of his 
 faith. Our soldier guard, who always accompanies us, when 
 the hour of prayer comes will dismount from his horse and 
 prostrate himself towards Mecca, by the roadside, or will 
 
'^n 
 
 044 
 
 DEVOUT MOHAMMEDANS. 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 even go to the top of the liouse to pray when we are resting 
 at noon, no matter Jiow many pairs of curious eyes are upon 
 him. Many and many a time liave I seen a camel driver, 
 poor, untutored man that he is, but confident of liis faitli in 
 God and in the great prophet, kneeling in the grass by the 
 wayside, while his tethered camels browse near by, offering 
 
 his prayer to the great God, 
 with no fear of ridicule to re- 
 strain him from his oft-re])eated 
 devotion. 
 
 As we lie down to rest in 
 the guest cliamber of the elder 
 of Baila we hear the musical 
 voice of the muezzin fioatina: 
 from the humble minaret near 
 by, calling out to all the faith- 
 ful, " God is great, God is great. 
 There is one God and Moham- 
 , med is his prophet. Come to 
 [)rayer, come to prayer." 
 
 As these sounds strike our 
 drowsy ears we learn the secret 
 of the vitality of the Turkish 
 nation and the IMohammedan religion. There is truth 
 enough in it to keej) it sweet and from going to utter decay. 
 There is truth enough within it to maintain in the nation 
 the germs of a resolute, uncompromising manhood, and, as 
 we drop off into the land of Kod, a new hope springs up 
 in our hearts for Turkey and the Turks, as tlie cry of the 
 dervish mingles with our dreams, "God is great, God is 
 great. Come to prayer, come to prayer." 
 
 THE CALL OF THE MUEZZIN. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 ON TO THE GOLDEX HORX-COXTrvr VTm.r 
 
 ViSilES- VEILED WOMEN o"TUKit|^^ "OWLIXG DEIi- 
 Watched by a Curious Crowd— A Tl,-, i. ir 
 
 Kamidan- Waking Up to kt-T' T r «"t'» - The Feast of 
 
 Thread and a Wldtt.-k>ssOncials-\S^^^^^^^^^^^ "J^c""" '^ ^^'-'^ 
 -Carving Tp Turkey- Angora C. 7/^ \ ""'^ '^'"«'"'' '^'^'key 
 
 '•^ Haihvay Train -D^a^U^ ^^ ^VT'''. ^'''-^^^ - Tying Up 
 College -St. Sophia, the Marvel o s ''^j„^""'*^"f "'"P^^- A Fan.ous 
 -The Covere,l Facx.-TJ.c 61X77 \ ."*':"''' "^ ''"^ ^''""I'^l^ 
 '^SweatingCV,lu„n.''-T]e AvSt T) " ,"' '''" f'<'»^l"^''-or-The 
 Trea.ling on the Babies - 1 si f.^''""^'''''^^- ""^' They Whirl- 
 to Moscjue-Sanding the litd- "^^r t""''';T"""' '^'' '^'"^"» Goes 
 Wives and Dauglfters- A Tint IV,: "'\f f"^^^ «>"<-^'« 
 
 Jewe^-BeautifulBroussa-^rUrouln^rt S: "^ ^"^^^^ 
 
 >0R thirteen days our journey across 
 Asia Minor was, with certain vari- 
 ations, a repetition of tlie days I 
 liave already described. An early 
 start, a long ride of ten or tweive 
 iiours, a hasty midday meal often 
 eaten in the wagon, and, about 
 night-fall, a new setting-up of our 
 movable household gods in still 
 another Turkish khan which 
 always seemed a shade dirtier and 
 
 riiere were, ho,vever, some noticeable breaks' in „nr 
 
 CtTCaft ™" "" •'«"—•'■> sconce On h 
 tourth day, after passing over an immense plain, guarded on 
 
 (545) 
 
646 
 
 WATCHED BY A CURIOUS CROWD. 
 
 all sides by snou'-ca])ped mountains, wo canio to the ancient 
 city of Tyana, wliich, in former centuries, was a most nota- 
 ble place. Here a fine old Roman aqueduct brought deli- 
 cious, sj)arkling water from the hills far away. Many of its 
 arches are standing still, as fine in their ruined nuignilicence 
 as the a(|ueducts about Home itself. Under the shadow of 
 these broken arches with their beautiful columns and car\'ed 
 capitals wo ate our lunch, surrounded by a curious, o})en- 
 eyed throng of nujdern Tyanites, who, to-day, very rarely 
 see a stranger from the outside world, famous and much- 
 visited as their city used to be in ancient days. 
 
 Three hours beyond Tyana we came to Nigde, a thriving 
 town of several thousand inhabitants. Here, manv of the 
 houses are of two stories, and have glass in their windows, 
 and here it Avas our good fortune to rest during the Lord's 
 Day in the house of the Protestant pastor of the town. 
 
 Here, too, we had a new illustration of the awful tvrannv 
 
 7 7 •/ I 
 
 under Avhich the subject races of Turkey live. No sooner 
 had Ave gone into the house than a poor broken-hearted 
 woman came to see the missionary who accompanied us, to 
 tell him that her husband, the pastor of a native Protestant 
 church, had suddenly disap])eared while on his Avay to the 
 village Avhere his church was situated. No one knew anv- 
 thing about him from that sad day, though it was susi)ected 
 that he had been arrested and imprisoned, and perhaps 
 murdered for supposed complicity Avitli the Armenian u})ris- 
 ing. Of his innocence his poor Avife Avas Avell assured, but 
 for three months she had been Avaiting and hoping against 
 hope, telling her little child that every footstep might be the 
 long-lost father. Put now she had almost given up in de- 
 spair, and Avitli streaming eyes came to ask us if something 
 could not be done to end her dreadful uncertainty as to 
 whether her husband Avas alive or dead. 
 
icient 
 nota- 
 
 ; deli- 
 of its 
 
 icence 
 
 ow of 
 
 carved 
 
 , open- 
 rarely 
 inuch- 
 
 hriving 
 of the 
 
 indoNVS, 
 
 1 Lord's 
 
 ivn. 
 
 yranny 
 sooner 
 
 nearted 
 
 d us, to 
 :)testant 
 to the 
 w any- 
 spected 
 )erhaps 
 1 upris- 
 ed, but 
 against 
 be the 
 in de- 
 liething 
 k as to 
 
 SOME MYSTERIOUS LAMPS. 
 
 547 
 
 To olfset this [)athctic incident of Xigde, a rather amus- 
 ing story was tohl us by one of the mcrcluints of the phice to 
 the effect tliat one of his feUow shopkeepers had been a fe\v 
 weeks before arrested and inipi'isoned on some mysterious 
 cliargo, whosi! nature neither ho not* his neighbors could 
 exactly determine. After a few weeks, however, he was 
 released, and it was learned that his arrest was caused bv 
 some very innocent lamps whicli, in the line of business, he 
 had imported into Xig(U'. Tliese lamps had been meant to 
 hang from thi? ceiling, and, in order that they migiit be raised 
 and lowered, a metal ball about the size of a small cannon 
 ball came with them. Tliese Ijalls were considered suspicious 
 by the Turkish authorities. It was thought tliey might be 
 some terrible dynamite explosives destined to blow the whole 
 country into atoms ; so tlie poor lamp-dealer was arrested and 
 imprisoned witliout trial until the case should be investigated 
 and his suspicious balls couUl be declared harmless. 
 
 In the mi(hlle of our long journey, came a most delight- 
 ful break, for at tlie end of our seventh day from Tarsus, 
 after having traveled some two hundred miles, we came to 
 the large Ca})padocian cit}^ of Ca}sarea, which is a great cen- 
 ter not only of trade but of missionary operations, and where 
 the m)od friends Avho had sent one of their number for us. 
 \vith their famous sj)ring -wagon, had their abode. This, too. 
 was an important town in Eoman days and was named for 
 Ca}sar Augustus. Ever since it has retained its pre-eminence 
 in all the vicinity as a commercial center. 
 
 The country about, though bare of trees, is fertile and 
 cajmble of sustaining a large population. Our interest in 
 Ciusarea was not dependent upon beautiful scenery or the fer- 
 tility of the soil, but centered in the charming American 
 homes Avhicli are here established so far from their native 
 land and from all that most of us hold dear. Here, for more 
 
 33 
 
CAS 
 
 A DKVOTKI) MISSIONAKY. 
 
 
 
 \ III 
 
 thiin forty ve.'ivs, lias one of the iiiissioiiarics of tlu; vVmcrican 
 I>oar(l Ix'cii laboring' thi'ou^li <j;()o(l report and evil i'('|)oi't. 
 Often at the risk of his life, and alwiiys uniid pei'ils and 
 iiardships of whi(;h the averat^e Anu^rican knows wry little, 
 he lias kei)t on liis way, winning by foi-ee of a, genth;, digni- 
 lied, and devoted Christian life tlu^ hearts of hundreds of 
 ))eople wlio arc^ opposcMJ to his creed, and wiio regai'd othei' 
 (/hi'istians as iididel do^s to be kicked out of their country 
 whenever op[)ortunity all'oi'ds. 
 
 This yet(M'an missionary has been joined in latin- years by 
 his son-in-law and family, and by on(j or two olhei- mission- 
 ai'v families, amon<^' them a most devot(!d and skillful doctor, 
 who would mak(^ his fame and fortune! in any countiy where 
 he might choose to pi'actice. (Jiving up the allurements of 
 ])i'ofessional success and large; income in liis own land, ho 
 has come to this I'eniotc; city wliei'e he can cure the bodies of 
 tlie Turks and heal tluiir souls as he Ihids his way to their 
 affections and confidence, 
 
 While we are Imm'c; togcither we will look in u\Hm a 
 y-enuine Turkish bath in tin; yew center of Turkey. l\rany 
 of my readers have; b(;en in tin; elegant '.establishments which 
 abound in all our large cities, with their ti. and mai'bles, 
 vaultiMl ceilings and fountains, plunges, hot rooms and cool- 
 ing con(!hes, but none of them, ju'rhaps, have (!vei' taken a 
 Turkish bath in the hind of its nativity. Wo will go to- 
 g(!ther this ev(Miing to this balh in Talas, a subui'b of 
 Ca^sar(;a. It has been built by on of tlie few enterprising 
 inhabitants, who. as a young imm left his early home, be- 
 came famous in government circles, made his fortune in 
 Constantino))le, and instead of building a libraiy in his 
 native town as he would have done in America, showed his 
 lilial aifection by establishing this Tui'kish balh. 
 
 Into a narrow ante-room we go to leave our clothes, but 
 
A GENUINE TURKISH BATH. 
 
 549 
 
 orican 
 •epoi't. 
 lis and 
 little, 
 , (lio-ni- 
 •eds of 
 1 otlxM- 
 country 
 
 'cavs by 
 inission- 
 1 (loctov, 
 •y where 
 ments of 
 
 land, he 
 bodies of 
 
 to their 
 
 upon a 
 . ]\[any 
 lits which 
 marbles, 
 un<l eool- 
 taUen a 
 ill «2,o to- 
 iibnrb of 
 icrprisin*-- 
 Lune, he- 
 |)rtune in 
 ly in his 
 Owed his 
 
 Ithes, but 
 
 instead of locking- u|) oiii" valuables in a, (ii'e-proof safe, as 
 we ar(; ac'custonied to do at home, ^ve roll our watches, 
 ])ock(^t-books, and other articles of vahu! in our clothes, and 
 leav(; this biuidh; on the divan of tla; dressin<^-)'ooui. Surely 
 this speaks well for the honesty of Turkish hiiinan nature. 
 Then we put on some hi<4h woodcMV clogs, in whic;!) W(> find it 
 v(M'v (iillicuit to shiilUe! about, and follow our attendant int(> 
 th(! hot room. It is not vcrv hot, but by stayin*^ tlan-e lon<^ 
 enough we get into a genth; p(U'spiration. In tiu^ middle of 
 the I'oom is a round stone dais undei- w'lich the lii'e is built. 
 Around all sides of tin; I'ooin are faucets of hot and cold 
 watiM' which we can tui'u on at our pleasure, and on oiu^ side 
 of th(^ large centi'al I'oom is a, smadcM" apartment into which 
 steam has been tiii'ned and when? we: can o!)tain a va[)or 
 bath if so disposed. 
 
 For a lit t hi whiles \ was alone with my fri(uid in this 
 great, round, toml)-iike buiiding, with tla; vaiiit(>d dome 
 overhead which caught up and sent i)a('k ami i-e-echoed our 
 words, as though it was ju'oplcd with a hiimlrcid mocking 
 spirits. I'ut we weri^ not long alon<', foi-, one after another, 
 th(^ natives (;ame trooping in until under that resounding 
 roof th(M'(i must havt; been at least lifty hot, sweating, vil- 
 lainous-looking Turks. Morc(»vei-, they wei'c^ in high spirits, 
 for it b(>ing tli(^ time of Jiamidan their day of fasting was 
 ovei", and nightfall had broiigiit the hour of feasting. They 
 had (widently come from a g(»od siipp(M' and were full of 
 hilarity and gl(;e. Laughing and talking and yelling at one 
 anothei' in their good spirits, whih; the echoing i-oof (piad- 
 rupled theii' m)ise, it seemed as though we were in pamU;- 
 numium itself. However, it was a very good-natui-ed |)and(;- 
 monium, and we vei'v so(.n got used to the din. Then the 
 shamj)ooer caim^ in and i'ul»i)ed us down and kneadtid us 
 and punched us and thumped us lilce so much dough, work- 
 
I ! 
 
 550 
 
 CURIOUS CUSTOMS. 
 
 I ; 
 
 I* » .)' 
 
 [iP 
 
 ing every muscle, ])it]ling- out every finger-joint, and then 
 sousing us with soap and hot water until all the cuticle 
 seemed in danger of coming oil'. Then the process was re- 
 newed, and alter a little bi'eathing spell Avas iigain I'cpeated. 
 Then we were rubi)ed with coarse gloves, soajx'd and washed 
 Jind sprayed (^nce more, and the })rocess was declared to he 
 complete. 
 
 On the whole, it was very enjoyable, though I avouUI 
 prefer hereaftei' t(; take my Turkish biiths in America rather 
 than m Turk(!y. 
 
 I have said \V(> were in C;esarea dui'ing the feast of Kani- 
 idan. A very notable occasion is this, corresponding some- 
 Avhat to the lenten season of the Catholic church. It begins 
 with the new moon of March or Aj)i'il and lasts for fo]'ty 
 days. If it is cloudy tlu; authorities, curiously enough, 
 a])j)ly to the heretical missionaries, whose religicjn they hate, 
 but whose astroiU)mical science alone tells them Avhen the 
 new moon has conu'. 
 
 All (lay long for forty days the strict Moslem religiously 
 fasts. From early dawn until sunset not a mouthful })asses 
 his li])s, not a su[) moistens his parcluid throat, not even a 
 whiff fi'om the inevitable cigarette is allowed. But at sunset 
 a great gun is fired, the muezzin pi'oclaims from the minaret 
 that the sunset hour for pi'ayer has come. But he does not 
 ling(!r long about his call this time, for he is as hungry as 
 any of his devotees, and hastening down from his watch- 
 tower, with all the other good IMohammedans, he hurries to 
 the dinner table to make up for his long day of fasting. 
 
 This is not the only feast of the night by any means. If 
 the religious IVIoslem fasts all day he makes up foi- it at 
 night, lor at eleven o'clock, after a few houi'S of sleep has 
 been enjoycnl, a, great beating of pans and blaring of tin 
 horns is heard and idl the faithful wake up to eat once more. 
 
ul then 
 
 cuticle 
 
 was re- 
 opeated. 
 
 washed 
 ed to l)e 
 
 I would 
 VM nitlier 
 
 , of Haili- 
 ng some- 
 It Ix'gius 
 for forty 
 ■ enouglh 
 they hate, 
 Avhen the 
 
 •ligiously 
 'ul ])asses 
 i)t even a 
 
 at sunset 
 le minaret 
 
 does not 
 liungry as 
 liis watch- 
 
 I lurries to 
 [iting. 
 
 |u(!ans. If 
 for it at 
 
 sleep has 
 |in<>; of tin 
 Lnce more. 
 
 FASTING AND FEASTIN(i. 
 
 551 
 
 Then a little more sleep, and at three o'clock in the morning 
 another gun is lired to waken the followers of the prophet to 
 iinother feast. 
 
 I>ut when the first streak of morning gray api)ears, when 
 the tiuH! coMU's that they can detect "the difference hetween 
 a black' and white thread,"' as the law i'e([;.ii'es, th(;n the 
 fast l)e<>'ins a<>'ain and not anotluM' mouthfu' must thev eat 
 until Ihe sunset gun is lired. Those who ca.i afford the 
 tinui and do )U)t iumhI to woi'k, sleeo awav as much of the 
 day of fasting as they can and oidy waUe u|) in season for 
 th(> evening feast. We found, to our cost, that oui' wliole 
 stay in Tui'key coincided with the fast of Uainidan. for the 
 officials were eitluM' asle(»p when we called on them for any 
 favoi'. or so sui'lv from theii' Ion<i' fastinf^ that it was with 
 ditliculty we could get what we wanted. IJut our precious 
 "• houyourouldou "' which the governoi' of Adana had given 
 us, usually overcame even the ci'ustin(?ss of the lialf-starved 
 magnates, and we suffered but little detention or trouble in 
 oui" journey. 
 
 After leaving our good friends in Ciesai'ea our I'oute lay 
 along the northern edge of ('api)adocia, then into (Jalatia, 
 where were the churches to which Paul wrote his (ihxpient 
 epistle, then into I'ythinia, Avliich boi'ders on tlu; IJlack sea 
 and the Jiosphorus. Nowhei'e did we find a road so I'ough 
 as the "five bad miles," but it was always sidliciently out of 
 repair to remind us that we were still in Tui'key. Though 
 the government levies taxes of thousands of pounds every 
 year upon the o])pressed peasantry for the I'epair and main- 
 tenance of this road, xoX year after year no piastre is ex- 
 ])(Mi(led and no shovel is lifted to make the road better. 
 ]\Iuch of tlu! way over which we iournevcd lay across an 
 elevated table land wliei'e the scenery was monotonous and 
 uninteresting, and the khans where we spent the night were 
 
552 
 
 CARVIN(i UP TURKEY. 
 
 very much Iik(! tliosc; with whicli we hud })reviously become 
 aajiuiiiited in (Mliciu and (Jajipadocia. 
 
 Foi- days iiiid days on tliis journey we saw no trees or 
 bushes, and scarcely a shi'uh as bi<^' as a lead ixmcil. This 
 Turkey has evidently not oidy been picked and singed, but 
 even tlie pin feathers have been ])hjck(!(l out of the ])ooi' cjtr- 
 cass. It is evident that when the poor bird is roastinl in the 
 next war, it will b(^ in order foi- th(! Euro|)ean nations to 
 carv(; it amon<^' themselves. TIk^ only thing which ])revents 
 them fi'om doing this to-day is, that each fears the other 
 and that each wants the best cuts and largest slices of Avliite 
 meat and the tcnidcir second joints for itself. luigland will 
 not let Ilussia hav(! all tin; bi'eastand all thedrcissing, liussia 
 is bound to kec^p England away from this [)latter which it 
 regards as altogiitluM" ils own, whih; (Jci-many and Ki'ance 
 each think that tluiy ha,V(! something to say in the mattei". 
 
 In the; ni(;antim(\ tlic! old bird is not yet ca,rved uj) among 
 the nations, and, as a consecpience, the people of Tui'key 
 remain in ignorance and superstition, (Christians are ])erse- 
 cuted, ])r()gress is delayed, inventiveness and enter|)ris(;s are 
 checked, and (iveiythiiig is going backward in tin; land of the 
 Sultan, while all the rt!st of tlu^ woilo is moving forward 
 witii the lightning rapi<lity of tlu; nineteenth century. 
 
 "The United States has citizims, England has sid)jects, 
 Turkey has abjects," is a ti'ue and witty saying wiiich avi'vy 
 one fully appreciates after crossing Asia Minor. 
 
 Six daysafter leaving (-a'sarea we came to Angora, a 
 famous city both in ancient aiul modei'u times, llei-i! we 
 saw many cartloads of political pi'isonei's who had just been 
 relea,se(l, going bade to their homes again. Ilundi'eds of 
 these nuni had been ai'rested merely on suspicion, had b(,'en 
 liui'i'ied away from their homes, manacled and chained, to 
 })risuns many days distant from their own villages; and now. 
 
)Ccoine 
 
 recs or 
 , This 
 ;c(l, but 
 
 )()1' ClU'- 
 
 l in tho 
 
 tioiis to 
 
 M-evonts 
 
 le other 
 
 )f wliitc 
 
 md will 
 
 r, Ilussia 
 
 which it 
 
 1 Ki'unce 
 
 uiittcr, 
 
 ipainoiif:; 
 Tm-kcy 
 pci'sc- 
 ■iscs arc 
 1(1 ol' the 
 t'oi'wani 
 
 •V. 
 subjects, 
 (;h every 
 
 Viif^'ora, a 
 Uvw. \vt5 
 just been 
 (Ireds of 
 hud iM'cn 
 lained, to 
 and now. 
 
 AN(JOKA AND ITS FAMOUS CATS. 
 
 553 
 
 without trial or heariii«^-, hut a|)j)areiitly at the caprieeof tiie 
 Sultan and the rei<4nin;^' powers they had i)een released, 
 ])i'obiil)ly h(!eaus(! His Majesty fcariu";' to kill thciii lest ho 
 should fi^et into ti'ouhh; with foreign nations, and not k!n)W- 
 in;4' whatels*^ to do with them, had sent theni lioinc^ a^ain. 
 
 A h'W of tlw'ii' hallows, however, had heeii I'etaJned in 
 prisons, and, at their suhse(pient ti'ial which took plac(! at 
 An^^'ora, seventeen wei'e seidcnced to death; i)Mt when tho 
 (christian j)owers rc'Uionslrated and su^^'^csled that an ii-on- 
 clad ini<«lit make the remonsti'ancc} elVeetual, the Sultan 
 yielded the point and pardoru'd most of his prisoners. 
 
 An<2^ora, is noted not oidy t'oi- its iteaulii'ul Ihiiry-liairod 
 cats, which ari; famous all the woi'Id ovei", hut also as tho 
 seat of th(^ moliaii' trade. The handsome ;^'oats which fin-nish 
 the hail' (lot tlu; plains on vwvy side, tens of thousands of 
 them, with their lon;^', criid<ly w(»ol han^'in^- to the very 
 <;'round. IJeaiitifid, •j,'ent l(}-fac.'d little ci'eatures they are, as 
 dill'ei'ent from tlu; ordinary vicious ;^(>a,t as a week-old land) 
 is dill'ereid. from his u^'ly pro«i,'enitor. 
 
 A new I'ailroad has just been completed from An;i'oi'a to 
 Constantinople, it carries us at the rate (tf einhl or ten 
 miles an lioui". Its trains do not rim at ni^^lit, hut when 
 dai'kness conu'S on they ti(^ up wlierevei' they liap|)en to he, 
 ami start on a^ain early the lU'xt mornin;:,'. After twodavs 
 of such iom'iU'N'injj', durin;.'' which we make hut a little ovei" 
 two hundred miles, we reach at last heanliful ( '(tnstant inople, 
 th(M'ity which has the most superb situation in the world. 
 
 As we draw near to this marvelous city, especially after 
 spendini;- many days in the harreii interior, and amid the 
 i'u;^';^'ed moiuitains of ( 'appadocia ; as we see the smiJin;.;' val- 
 leys and well-clot lied iiilltops that siirronnd it ; as we catch 
 a, ^•limpseof the (Jolden Horn and the sihcr waves of the 
 sparklin;;' Itosphorns, we acknowle(|n(> that IJyron is (|uiL(! 
 
 
!i 
 
 ■ ••■If- 
 
 i 
 
 ill; 
 
 554 
 
 AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS IN CONSTANTINOPLE. 
 
 right wlieii lie descrilx's Coiislimtiiiople and its envii'oiis as, 
 
 " The land of the ccilar ami viii(>, 
 
 AN'licic tliL' flowers ever bloom and the licaiiis ever shine. 
 
 Where the liirht winjrs of /.e])hyr opjjressed with i)erfunie, 
 
 AVax faint in the gardens of (Jul iti her iilooni, 
 
 "Where the eitr"ii ami oli\c are, fairest of fruit, 
 
 And thi; voice of the nightingale never is nuite, 
 
 AVIk re the tints of the earth and the hue of the sky, 
 
 In (olor thongli varied, in beauty may vie. 
 
 And the purjile of oeean is deeiiest in dye " 
 
 It ^v()lll(l ttike iiiaiiy a cliaptci- ;i(le(iiiately to desci'ibo the 
 beauties tiiid woiidei's of this imperitil city, its ina<>'nilicent 
 situation, its unsui'passed mosijues. Among them the famous 
 Siiint Sophiti, uith its cui'ious ;ind unending hibyrinthine 
 bazaars iilled with I'ugs and silks, silverwtire iind bric-;i-bi'ac, 
 and everything thiit c;in tem])t the cu})idity and unloose the 
 purse strings of the tiverage traveler. 
 
 Americans, too, may well hiive a ])iirticular ititerest in 
 Constantinople, for here they have uuule their mtirk through 
 their missionaries. The most important eductitional institu- 
 tions and almost all the Christian work of the city is in the 
 hands of American educators and missionai'ies. Here is sit- 
 uated the famous Robert Colleg-e which gtithers its students 
 from half a dozen nations, sets its seal of educated manhood 
 upon them, and sends them out to I)e leaders and })ioneers of 
 civilization in their own hinds. The most strategic ])osition 
 of any educational institution in the world, is that which is 
 occui)ied l)y Robert College. 
 
 Across the Ros])horus, on the Asititic side in the suburb 
 of Scuttiri. is the American College for girls, a school which 
 I believe in the fiitur(> ^vill do for the yoimg women of 
 Turkey, Bulgaria. Roumelia, aiul Armenia what Robert Col- 
 lege has done Jind is <loing for their brothers. 
 
 Herein Constantinople, too. is the famous Bible House, 
 
 ILlUt 
 
EDrcATixr; the turks. 
 
 555 
 
 ms as, 
 
 :;ribe the 
 ('•niticent 
 le famous 
 yrintliine 
 ric-a-brac, 
 iloosc the 
 
 iitorest in 
 throu^'h 
 x\ inst it Il- 
 ls in the 
 ere is sit- 
 studcnts 
 manhood 
 )i()neevs of 
 ic position 
 1 whicli is 
 
 lie suburb 
 
 lool which 
 
 Iwomen of 
 
 lobort Col- 
 
 Ible House, 
 
 "with its immense ])i'iiitinf^' estaljlislimout, IVoin wliicli <j;'o 
 forth everv year s<j many jii'iuted heaves I'oi' the heaHng of 
 the nations. So careful and wise ai'e the directors of this es- 
 tablishment that even the critical censor of the government 
 cannot object to nmch of their work. To be sure they are 
 liampered and hindei'ed. Every obstacle is thrown in their 
 way, and niany of the | t 
 
 pul)l ica t ion s which 
 they would be glad to 
 issue are altogethei' 
 prohibited ; but in spite 
 of these ol)stacles a 
 vast amount of Chris- 
 tian literature gets into 
 the hands of the sub- 
 ject nations of Turkey 
 from year to year 
 through this channel. 
 
 "We must not fail 
 to visit the mos(pie of 
 St. 8(jphia, one of the 
 most i m p r e s s i v e 
 churches in any land. 
 As my readers doubt- 
 less know, it was a 
 Chi'istian church in the time of Constantine and for many 
 centuries afterwards. When ('onstantino]>le fell into the 
 hands of the Turks St. Sojjhia became a Turkish mosque; 
 all the images of the saints were broken, every piece of 
 carved r.tone work which bore any likeness to any creature 
 in the air above or tiie (virth beneath or the waters under 
 the earth was cliipjjed away; the sign of the cross which ap- 
 peared innumerable times in diirerent i)arts of the cathedral 
 
 MOStJCK OK KL AZAK. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 i; 
 
550 
 
 THE GREAT MOSQUE OF ST. SOPHIA. 
 
 "was everywhere chiseled out, and all the magnificent win- 
 dows and mosaics were either broken or covered up Avith 
 hideous yellow paint or ])laster. Yet in spite of all this 
 vandalism of fanatical image-haters, St. Sophia retains its 
 ancient glory and im]>ressiveness to a large degree. Its 
 pro])ortions are magnificently symmetrical. The dome, 
 
 which hangs like a 
 huge substantial bub- 
 ble in the air, it is im- 
 possible to describe 
 with a n y ad ject i ve 
 which the dictionary 
 furnishes. 
 
 The floor is now 
 covered with prayer 
 rugs, all of them point- 
 ing toward ]\Iecca, so 
 that the devout ]\[os- 
 lem when he pi'os- 
 trates himself on his 
 rug knows which way 
 to face, as he mumbles 
 ^^"^is"^ ^^^^ monotonous peti- 
 tion. 
 
 SIDEWALK MEKCIIANTS, CONSTAXTINOl'LE. ^^^^ ^^^^j^, ^^^^, -^^ 
 
 present magnificence, however, is St. Soj)liia interesting, 
 but because of its historic associations. Over this famous 
 church, for many a century, has Moslem and Christian 
 quarreled, and it bears within itself many a mark of the 
 hands of its successive conquerors. High up on the wall, 
 at least ten feet higher than a man on horsel)ack can 
 reach, the print of a Ijloody hand is pointed out, and we 
 are told by our guide that that is the mark which was made 
 
THE STAIN OF A BLOODY HAND. 
 
 557 
 
 it wm- 
 
 p with 
 
 ill this 
 
 iiins its 
 
 ee. Its 
 
 dome, 
 
 like a 
 
 ial bub- 
 it is im- 
 
 describe 
 
 adjective 
 
 ictionary 
 
 L' is now 
 h prayer 
 lem point- 
 ISIecca, so 
 
 out ^los- 
 
 he pvos- 
 tlf on his 
 
 ivhich way 
 nuuubles 
 
 inous pcti- 
 
 |v for its 
 iteresting, 
 Ins famous 
 Christian 
 Ivk of the 
 the wall. 
 )back can 
 |t, and we 
 was made 
 
 by the conquerin*^' Sultan, who hiially wrested Constanti- 
 nople from the g-rasp of the Christians. As tlie last mark of 
 his triumph he rode into this ma<^nificent Cliristian church 
 on horseback, after having slain lumdreds of worshipers who 
 were tliero assembled, and so high wore the bodies of the 
 victims piled one upon another, that when he reached uj) 
 and struck his bloody palm against the wall it made the 
 mark which now wo see far above our heads. 
 
 ST. SOIMUA, TIIF, MAUVELOUS. 
 
 On the otiier side is a stone column which we are assured 
 was cleft at the same time by the sword of this conquering 
 monarch. Hero the one wlio has faith enough may see the 
 curbstone of the well of Samaria on which Christ sat. Here 
 is a "sweating column,"' which is almost worn away by the 
 
 CD V t- 
 
 fingers of the credulous, who iind in the moisture which 
 the stone exudes an ointment for all kinds (^f diseases. 
 Some })oor sufferers are always fingering this stone. 
 
 i 
 
 ' 
 
T 
 
 r)os 
 
 THE FAMOrS AVIIIRTJNf; DERVISHES. 
 
 ■ ' I 
 
 ! 
 
 IJiit most iiii]irossiv(' of all In tliis <^i'c'at cliiircli to tlio 
 C'hi'istiiin, is a i)ictur(' of oiii' Lord Jesus Christ in mosiiic on 
 one of the walls, wliicli has Itccii sincai'od ovci" and covorcd 
 uj) l»v Tui'kish paint, hut which in the slow process of the 
 C(Mituri('s is heniimin;^' to show through the veil witli Avhich 
 the cneniies of Chi'ist sought to cover his I'ace. The outline 
 is now (iistiiu'tlv visihle and (irowinn' moi'e aiul inoi'e dis- 
 tinct, we are tohl, as time wears away tlu^ paint and the 
 years roll on. Xo Christian Jieai't can look upon it without 
 seeing- in that j)ictui'e a pi'o])liecv of the day when light from 
 the face of (Christ shall shine throu'-h the ignorance and 
 superstition of the Moslem's faith, by wliich his perfect 
 countenance lias been obscured for so many centuries. 
 
 Another fanu)us sight which we shall be sure to see 
 before leaving Constantinople is the whirling and the howl- 
 ing dervishes. The whirlers whirl and the howlers howl 
 every week, though in dillerent mosques, and it is a sight 
 Avhich once seen is not easilv forgotten. On the dav that 
 we went to see the whirlei's we had to wait a long Avliile 
 before the lirst of the dei'vishes appeared. The moscjue in 
 wiiich they perform their curious gyrations is a snudl build- 
 ing with a circular sj)ace railed off in the center of the floor. 
 Outside of the fence which incloses this circle, and in the 
 gallery above Avhicli commands a line view of it, there are 
 always crowds of spectators. 
 
 When we had been waiting some half hour or more, two 
 dervishes in tall, cream-colored felt hats like sugar loaves 
 with the top cut off', entered the moscjue solemnly and 
 slowly. They were covered with long, dark cloaks and 
 were very solemn and sedate, and, on the whole, good-look- 
 ing men. Then a few more dervishes entered the mosque, 
 and then more, until there were in all twenty-seven men in 
 dark cloaks and tall sugar-loaf hats. Then three high der- 
 
BEFORE THE WIIIUL. 
 
 0*)!) 
 
 to the 
 )siuc on 
 Lioveved 
 i of the 
 1 which 
 s outline 
 lore <lis- 
 jind the 
 
 without 
 
 J^llt t'l'OUl 
 
 nice and 
 ■4 perfect 
 es. 
 
 I'c to see 
 the howl- 
 lei's howl 
 |is a sight 
 day that 
 )nu' while 
 os(]ue in 
 Kill build- 
 he floor, 
 ud in the 
 there are 
 
 more, two 
 ar loaves 
 nmly and 
 loaks and 
 oood-look- 
 e nioscjuc, 
 en men in 
 
 r 
 
 visiles, one of wlioni wor(^ a In-oad irrct^n veil around his 
 
 sugar-loaf fez, showing that he is adirect descendant of the 
 
 I'i'ophet himself, entered the chai'med cii'dc". They seated 
 
 themselves on the floor while all the others stood al)out the 
 
 sides like carved statues. Then the statues uidiiid)ere(l 
 
 and began to march anjund. two l)y two, each mendjer of 
 
 each couple bowing low 
 
 to the otliei' as they 
 
 cam(; in front of the 
 
 liigli dervishes. Then 
 
 they bowed once more 
 
 before the descendant 
 
 of the patriarch and his 
 
 companions, and march 
 
 again around the circle. 
 
 This process is re 
 peated three times, and 
 each time a very low 
 salaam is made by the 
 man in front to the der- 
 vish immediately be- 
 hind him, and by the 
 dervish behind to the 
 one who marches imme- 
 diately in front of him. 
 Then to the discordant and creaky music of some pipers in 
 the gallery they begin to whirl, slowly at first, but as the 
 music increases in rapidity they whirl more swiftly and more 
 swiftly still, until in a perfect frenzy they swing around their 
 narrow circle. 
 
 Before beginning this operation they cast off their long 
 cloaks and a])])eared clad in skirts which reached consider- 
 ably below their knees. As they whirled the skirts of the 
 
 A WHIRLING DEUVISir. 
 
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5G0 A STRANGE CEREMONY. 
 
 most energetic stood out stiff from their bodies like encom- 
 passing balloons, just as I have seen the skirts of little girls 
 fly out when whirling about in the process familiarly known 
 as "making a cheese." Some of the dervishes whirl much 
 better than others, and it seems to be the height of their am- 
 bition to revolve so rapidly and smoothly that not one of 
 them shall touch the other, and that their skirts shall stand 
 out from their bodies as though distended by a huge crino- 
 line. How they keep it up is a mystery, but keep it up 
 they do minute after minute for fully ten minutes at a time. 
 Then after resting a little they march round once more and 
 whirl again, and this strange religious ceremony is over. 
 
 At least this was all we saw the dervishes perform, 
 though frequently babies are brought in in the arms of their 
 infatuated parents and laid upon the floor of the mosque for 
 the holy men to walk over. They step lightly and gingerly 
 as though treading on eggs, and it is said that they rarely 
 hurt the little victims under their feet ; still, it cannot be en- 
 tirely pleasant for the babies. 
 
 The "howlers" are very much of the same order, but 
 instead of whirling they sway their bodies violently back- 
 ward and forward and from right to left as though they 
 would jerk their heads off their bodies, at the same time 
 chanting a weird cry, which degenerates at times into a 
 frightful yell. Their exertions are more violent than that of 
 the whirlers and their healing efficacy in treading upon in- 
 fants is said to be even greater than that of their brother 
 dervishes. 
 
 One more scene which we shall witness before leaving 
 Constantinople is the weekly ceremony, which when trans- 
 lated into English means the going to mosque of the Sultan. 
 Every visitor who is in the city on Friday makes it a point 
 of getting a permit from his consulate which will enable him 
 
HOW THE SULTAN GOES TO CHUHCH. 
 
 561 
 
 to see this wonderful sight. The ceremony of going to 
 church is nowhere else attended by so much pomp and mag- 
 nificence, or with so much fuss and feathers as that of the 
 ruler of the faithful here in Constantinople. 
 
 For hours beforehand the soldiers begin to assemble- 
 From all parts of the city they come, infantry, cavalry, and 
 artillery, bands of music, and flaunting horse tails, which in 
 former years were the ensigns which led the Turks to 
 victory. Every street and approach within half a mile of 
 the mosque is lined with soldiers four deep, and even on 
 ordinary occasions it is said that ten thousand men guard 
 the sacred person of His Majesty every Friday. 
 
 Half an hour before the Sultan's carriage appears upon 
 the scene a half score or more of carts filled with sand of 
 the finest quality sprinkle the roadway over which the royal 
 wheels will trundle. Every little pebble larger than a pea 
 is picked out by careful attendants. We only wish, as we 
 see all this preparation, that th.o iSulian could have gone over 
 some of the horrible loads in the interior of his dominion, 
 and have liis royal bones shaken up as ours were shaken on 
 his wretched highways. There would be some poetic justice 
 in this. 
 
 While we are waiting for the royal carriage all is bustle 
 and activit" scores and scores of elegant equipages drawn 
 by prancing horses draw up in front of the mosque, and out 
 of these carriages step most gorgeous human butterflies in 
 bewilderingly magnificent raiment. Generals and commo- 
 dores and ambassadors of the highest rank are here blazing 
 with their decorations and jeweled insignia of office. Here 
 come three or four beautiful carriages in which are the 
 ^ Sultan's wives and some of his daughters. They are not 
 allowed to step out of the carriages, and we can just see their 
 black eyes gleaming above their veils as they look out curi- 
 
 
 t ••,1 
 
 
 m 
 
663 
 
 THE SULTAN S WIVES AND DAUGHTERS. 
 
 ously upon the scene, for this is one of the few outings 
 which they have in their lives. Tiien comes the Sultan's 
 nephews, the heir apparent to the throne, and his younger 
 brothers and cousins, the smaller ones attended by ugly 
 black eunuchs whose long arms seem to hang down nearly 
 to their knees. 
 
 A TURKISH BEAUTY. 
 
 Into the mosque are now taken the Sultan's library 
 chair, a box containing his clothes, a white dinner service, 
 and numerous other things, until one thinks he is about to 
 move into the mosque to live ; but, no, they will all be taken 
 out again in half an hour and carted home, but everything is. 
 placed there in readiness so that if he expresses the slightest 
 wish it may at once be fulfilled. 
 
A MEAN AND CRAFTY-LOOKING RULER. 
 
 563 
 
 And now look! The band strikes up a martial air of 
 welcome, a look of expectancy comes upon every face, and 
 ten thousand necks are craned to see the carriage which 
 comes slowly down the hill from the palace to the mosque. 
 On the front seat of this carriage is a noble-looking man in 
 splendid military costume covered with decorations, who 
 appears every inch a king. But he is not the Sultan. The 
 other man who sits on the back seat of the carriage, — that 
 mean, crafty-looking fellow, Avitii the red beard and hooked 
 nose, and the scared look in the deceitful eyes which he lifts 
 to the crowd of European spectators as he passes the em- 
 bassy, — that is "Tiie Sultan of glorious Sultans, Emperor of 
 powerful Emperors, distributer of the crowns of intidel 
 rulers that are seated upon thrones, the shadow of God upon 
 earth. I, who am the Emperor, the Asylum of Justice and 
 the King of Kings, the centre of victory; I, who, by the 
 real Almighty, the Fount cf happiness, am adorned with the 
 title of Emperor of both lands, and, by the crowning 
 grandeur of my caliphate, am graced by the title of Sov- 
 ereign of both Seas." 
 
 He dismounts at the door of the mosque, enters the 
 sanctuary just as the old howjeh from the minaret overhead 
 calls to noonday prayer, is absent for about half an hour, 
 presumably at his worship, and then returns, takes the reins 
 from his coachman and drives himself slowlv up the hill to 
 his palace. 
 
 It is said that he regards this feat of driving himself 
 
 from the mosque to the palace up a somewhat steep hill 
 
 with ten thousand soldiers to come to his rescue if necessary, 
 
 as a feat of surpassing courage. It is the only brave thing 
 
 that he attempts to do, and most of his time, it is said, is 
 
 passed in abject fear lest he lose his life, and his empire be 
 
 wrested from his unworthy hands. 
 34 
 
 i 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 ' 
 
5G4 THE sultan's fear OF ASSASSINATION. 
 
 IIow different this from tiie brave days of old when 
 Othman and Suleynian and their successors led their own 
 troops in the thickest of the fray from victory to victory ! 
 "\Ve can have some respect for these old warriors, cruel and 
 fanatical and bloodthirsty as many of them were, — at least 
 they ruled with kingly dignity and in kingly s})lendor. 
 
 In the old time the Sultan had in his seraglio a first lord 
 of the stable under whom were nearly seven thousand 
 grooms to take care of the royal steedg. lie had also a 
 "Chief Falconer" and "Chief Hawker," and even a "Chief 
 Sparrow Hawker." The "Chief of his Tent Titchers" had 
 under him nearlv ei<j:ht hundred men whose duty it was to 
 ])itch the Sultan's tents wherever he might wish to sjiend the 
 day. He also had a "Chief Taster," with fifty sub-tasters 
 under him who tried all the Sultan's dishes. 
 
 His " Chief Baker " was the master of five hundred other 
 bakers, and the "Chief Confectioner" had five hundred Avho 
 were subject to him. Besides these, there was the " Master 
 Yesturer," who had charge of the Sultan's clothes, and Avhose 
 duty it was to follow him Avhen he went ahroad and scatter 
 silver coins before him. The " Master of the Turbans" had 
 charge of the imperial head-dress, one of which he carried in 
 procession, inclining it to right or left as a salutation to the 
 peoj)le. There was even a " Master of the Na})kins,'' a 
 " ]\[aster Ewer Kee])er," Avho jioured water on the Sultan's 
 hands, a " Chief Turban Winder," a " Chief Coffee Server," 
 and a " Chief Barber," with many subordinates under each 
 of them. "We even read of a "• Chief Nightingale Keeper," 
 and " Chief Parrot Keeper," whose duties may be guessed 
 from their very names. 
 
 A trustworthy author who visited the royal treasure 
 chambers as late as 1880, tells us that there he beheld " huge 
 emeralds as large as one's hand, garnets positively plated 
 
 
RICH STORES OF COSTLY JEWELS. 
 
 5G5 
 
 a 
 
 ■with groat table diamonds, maces, and daggers whose hilts 
 held gems as large as lions' eggs. Jeweled aigrots and robes 
 of state standing up stitt' with gold and })recious stones." 
 
 All those are the relics of the more prosperous past. All 
 indicate an era of splendid though barbaric magnificence. 
 All show a period of virility and manly strength in I'ulers 
 and conquering people alike. IIow, indeed, are the mighty 
 fallen, wlien, from this period of grandeur, we come down to 
 
 A TUIIKISII WOMAN. 
 
 the timid, mean-faced Sultan of the present day, who dares 
 not go to mosque Avithout ten thousand soldiers to insure his 
 safety, and who, with all his cruel tyranny, is ready to col- 
 lapse with terror, wlien a foreign nation so much as whispers 
 the word " ironclad " in his ear ! 
 
 Before we leave Asia for the shores of Europe, we must 
 make a brief excursion to Broussa, one of the most romark- 
 ablo as one of the most beautiful cities of the Ottoman 
 Empire. A lovely sail of half a day brings us to the port of 
 
566 
 
 A BRAVE AND WISE SULTAN OF OLD. 
 
 this ancient capital of the IVIoslem. Here Ave find Moham- 
 medanism at its best. Tlie mosques are spacious and mag- 
 nificent. Quite an attempt is made in the line of education, 
 and the magnificent scenery, the pure air, and grand old 
 Olympus (not the Olympus of classic fable, but a very re- 
 spectable mountain, nevertheless) which forms a background 
 to the city, all seem to have left their impress upon the rul- 
 
 A SULTAN S TOMB. 
 
 ing race, and nowhere are Moslems more courteous and less 
 fanatical than in this their ancient capital. 
 
 Here, as long ago as the year 1326, after a ten-years 
 siege, Broussa capitulated to the troops of Othman, and here 
 the great Sultan Avas buried soon after, for it was his dying 
 wish tliat he should be interred at Broussa, the new capital 
 of his mighty empire. The sword of Othman is still sacredly 
 treasured at Constantinople, and each Sultan in his turn, as 
 he comes to the throne, has the sacred blade of the founder 
 of his empire buckled to his belt by Avay of coronation. 
 
THE TOMB OF "BLACK OTHMAN." 
 
 667 
 
 Happy would it have been for his successors, and the em- 
 pire which they govern, if his descendants had been as brave, 
 as far-seeing, and as simple in their habits as their great 
 ancestor. Simple in his dress, his figure was imposing. 
 Like Longimanus, his arms reached below his knees, his 
 thighs Avere those of a horseman, and his ])rominent nose, 
 black hair and beard, and swarthy Ime, procured him the 
 name of " Black Othman," for black is a color of honor in 
 the East and indicates strength of character as well as bodily 
 vigor and energy. Black Othman transmitted his phj'sical 
 characteristics to several generations of his successors, and, 
 for at least three hundred years, there sat no Sultan on the 
 Ottoman throne who Avas not distinguished for personal 
 
 courage. 
 
 The beautiful tomb of the brave Othman is well Avorth a 
 visit even from Christians, who detest his creed and abomi- 
 nate the ways of his descendants. Several of the other great 
 Sultans are also buried at Broussa, in finely-preserved mauso- 
 leums, in which the tombs are covered with heavy black 
 draperies, which give a singularly dignified and sombre 
 aspect to these halls of death. 
 
 
 
 
 wi 
 
 
 m<4 
 
 St :i 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THROUGH CLASSIC LANDS — FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO 
 THE COAST OF SPAIN — IIOMEWAHD BOUND. 
 
 Off for Athens — On tlie Tcliiekatrhoff — The Occident and the Orient — 
 The Slmrp Line of Demurcation — Tenedos and Its Wooden Horse — 
 What Maltes Atliens Great To-day? — A Charnung Journey — The 
 Ruined City and its Thrilling Story — The Romantic Way of Climbing 
 Vesuvius — The Lake of Fire and Brimstone — An Awful Accident 
 — Where the Christians Fought with Wild Beasts — Pisa and its Bell 
 Tower — The Campo Santo and its Sacred Soil — Lazy Venice and its 
 Gondolas — Genoa the Superb — All that We Found of Columbus — On 
 the Borders of Spain — A Royal Swimmer — Ambitious Spanish Girls — 
 Too Envious to be Courteous — A Memory of Lafayette — Washer- 
 women Object to Modern Conveniences — The Best Part of the Trip. 
 
 IE must be an audacious author in- 
 deed, who thinks that he can 
 compel the attention of the world 
 to what he may say about much- 
 written Europe, when library 
 shelves groan with books con- 
 cerning it, and thousands of vol- 
 umes are added to their list every 
 year. My temerity is not of 
 such large proportions as to 
 undertake this task. So, in a 
 single chapter, we will take our 
 hasty journey from tlie Bosphorus to the coast of Spain. 
 We will embark, if you please, my reader, as it was our 
 
 good fortune actually to do. on the Russian steamer Tchick- 
 
 ( 508 ) 
 
ON BOARD ONE OP THE CZARS STEAMERS. 
 
 509 
 
 I* i 
 
 atchof, which sails from Constantinople to Athens. One of 
 the linest steamers on which wo have sailed since we left 
 home, is this same Russian vessel with the iinpronoiinceaiile 
 name. The staterooms are large and airy, the table is most 
 bountifully spread, the decks are clean and broad, and the 
 saloons fitted uj) in the most elegant style of naval architect- 
 ure and decoration. We are almost ready to relent and to 
 shade down our deep-seated antipathy to the tyrannical Czar 
 when we find that he charters so fine a steamer to carry us 
 from the Orient to the Occident, for this trip is nothing less 
 than such a journey. The line of denuircation is sharj) and 
 distinct. The Orient sweeping eastward comes as far as 
 Constantinople and ends there, the Occident sweeping west- 
 ward breaks with its waves of nineteenth century progress, 
 unavailingly on the shores of Bosphorus. It makes but little 
 impression even u})on Constantinople, and none at all upon 
 the country beyond. 
 
 Not only do we go from the Orient to the Occident, but 
 from the middle ages into modern times, from the twelfth 
 century into the nineteenth, from conservatism, stagnation, 
 retrogression, to progress, advancement, and the seething, 
 vigorous life of modern days, when we journey from Con- 
 stantinople to Athens. 
 
 Past ancient Troy we sail, where, with the help of a 
 powerful spy-glass and a still more powerful imagination, we 
 almost make ourselves believe that we can see the excavations 
 of Dr. Schliemann ; past the barren island of Tenedos, where 
 in ancient times the Greeks made the Avooden horse by 
 means of which they conquered Troy. 
 
 Tenedos, however, in ancient days must have been a dif- 
 ferent island from what it is to-day, for there are not enough 
 trees upon it now or upon any of the islands in the vicinity 
 to make a hobby-horse for a baby, much less an aninud with 
 
 
 !'- 
 
670 
 
 IN FAMOUS ATHENS. 
 
 such a capacious interior as that in which the Greeks made 
 their famous entrance into Trov. How the Greeks manafred 
 to get this huge wooden monstrosity across the wide stretcli 
 of turbulent sea which runs between Tenedos and Troy is 
 another of the mysteries upon which histor}' is silent. liut 
 we are not iconoclasts, and we do not wish to suggest harrow- 
 ing doubts concerning cherished fables to the future genera- 
 tions of classical scholars. 
 
 We passed through the beautiful Hellespont early in the 
 morning and not a great while thereafter reached the Py- 
 reus, the harbor of Athens. To attem])t to " do " Athens in 
 the space of a few pages is such a manifestly absurd task 
 that I will only say that we stood reverently upon the Par- 
 thenon while our souls did reverence to the genius of ancient 
 days, embodied in the Propylaeum and the Erechtheum with 
 its stately caryatides ; that we visited the Tower of the Winds 
 and the arch of Hadrian and the Temple of Theseus ; that 
 we stood upon the Pnyx where Demosthenes delivered his 
 world-famous speeches, and that especially our souls did 
 homage to the place most full of great memories to us, when 
 we stood upon Mars Hill. Here, in imagination, as we 
 looked off upon the historic city lying at our feet, with its 
 temples and its altars and its crowded thoroughfares, filled 
 as they were in ancient times, with a volatile, excitable, but 
 intellectual people, we heard St. Paul saying, as he stood 
 upon this very spot : " Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in 
 all things ye are too superstitious, for, as I passed by and be- 
 held your devotions I found an altar with the inscription : 
 'To the unknown God.' Whom, therefore ye ignorantly 
 worship. Him declare I unto you." 
 
 That speech, with all that it revealed of the fatherhood 
 of God, and the brotherhood of men whom God made " of 
 one blood to dwell upon all the face of the earth," did more 
 
BY SWORD AND PEN. 
 
 571 
 
 for mankind and for the perijctuatif^n of tlie memory of 
 Athens, than all the works of Phidias and the concjuests of 
 Hadrian and the orations of Demosthenes, which also have 
 made the city memorable. 
 
 The thoutjht is sure to come to every thongiitful man 
 who stands on the heights of the Parthenon, "• What has 
 made this little city famous in all the ages of the world ? " 
 Its situation, while beautiful, is no more remarkable than 
 that of scores of other cities on the blue Mediterranean. Its 
 natural advantages are not so great as those of other cities 
 of ancient and modern times. The tributary country is 
 comparatively barren and poor, the population was never 
 large, as the great modern nations count populations. 
 
 What, then has made Athens so famous in all the history 
 of the world ? There is but one answer to the question. 
 She was the mother of heroes and the mother of historians. 
 Brave men won her battles and true i)atriots ornamented her 
 public squares and erected her famous buildings, and, more 
 than that, poets "were born to sing their virtues, and histo- 
 rians to record their deeds of praise. The sword alone could 
 not have made little Greece memorable among all the nations 
 of the world, but the sword supplemented by the pen, the 
 great deed not only done but sung, has given her an imper- 
 ishable name, and attracts to her to-day scholars and lovers 
 of everything that is noble and beautiful and true. 
 
 The railway journey from Athens to Patras is one of the 
 most charming which can be taken in any continent. All 
 the way the railroad runs Avithin sight of the sounding sea, 
 affording most picturesque glimpses of the famous mountains 
 of Greece, every one of which has been glorified in song and 
 story. 
 
 Mount Olympus and Mount Parnassus, Pentelicus, and 
 Hymettus, we see them all, and what classic memories they 
 
 m- 
 
573 
 
 NAPLES AND VESUVIUS. 
 
 evoke ! Some of these memories are a little cloudv, like the 
 mists whicli hover about the tops of the mountains them- 
 selves, but, nevertheless, the mountains are. very real things 
 behind the mists, and so are the school-dav memories which 
 cluster around them very real to us, though hid by the haze 
 of succeeding years. 
 
 Another delightful journey is the sail by steamer from 
 Patras to Brindisi over the Ionian Sea, a journey of some 
 thirty hours, with a stop by the way at Corfu, one of the 
 most lovely spots which the w^hole map of the world affords. 
 
 From Brindisi to Naples is an all-day's ride over one of 
 the slow Italian railways, but a ride full of enjoyment, as we 
 see the fertile fields, the smiling vineyards, and the flower- 
 decked pastures of sunny Italy. At last, Vesuvius, with 
 a thin wreath of smoke curling from its peaks, breaks upon 
 our view. We rumble past the buried city of Pompeii, 
 rattle over the tomb of Ilerculaneum, and go puffing into 
 the great station of Naples just as the setting sun makes 
 doubly glorious the always beautiful blue bay. 
 
 Naples has few attractions in itself, but is noted for the 
 beauty and interest of its surroundings ; and while Pompeii 
 lies at its very door, with the paint of nineteen hundred 
 years ago still fresh upon its ruined' walls, with the ruts 
 worn by the chariots of old still visible in its streets, with the 
 shops of its bakers and its oil merchants and its wine sellers, 
 just as they left them when they sold their last loaf of bread 
 and flask of wine nineteen centuries figo, Naples will never 
 lose its attractiveness for the traveler and the antiquarian. 
 
 More full of unique and thrilling interest than almost 
 any spot on earth is this ruined city which was overwhelmed 
 by the Avrath of God in a single night ; its polluted streets 
 and houses, whicii even now indicate depths of depi'avity 
 that have seldom been witnessed in the history of the world, 
 
A LAKE OF MOLTEN FIRE. 
 
 573 
 
 ruined and utterly destroyed as habitations for the living. 
 Surely the moralist will be excused for drawing his lesson 
 from the destruction of this comparatively modern Sodom 
 and Gomorrah. 
 
 There are two ways of ascending Vesuvius. Tlie old- 
 fashioned way takes us on horsobfjk from the guides' house 
 near Pompeii through vineyards and villages, and across the 
 ashes and pumice and scoriae of a hundred eruptions, to the 
 base of the volcanic cone itself. Then we dismount from our 
 horses, leave them in the hands of some villainous-looking 
 guides who are waiting to devour as much of the substance 
 of the average traveler as they can lay hands on without 
 getting into jail, and then make the sharp, steep climb on 
 foot to the very summit. This is not a holiday task, by any 
 means, and I do not recommend it to those who do not have 
 stout muscles and strong lungs and a good degree of physical 
 endurance. It is, however, the more picturesque and ro- 
 mantic method, for the other way takes us by railway to 
 within a few rods of the very top. Then we pick our way 
 cautiously over the steaming vent holes and across the hot 
 sulphur and burning ashes until we stand on the ridge of 
 the crater, and hear below us the sullen, awful "swash" of 
 the lake of fire and brimstone. 
 
 One cannot always see the seething lake itself because it 
 is generally hidden by the almost continuous sulphurous 
 fumes which rise froin its surface. But that which is not 
 visible to one sense is audible to another, and the beatino- of 
 that lake of molten fire upon the sides of the imprisoning 
 mountain seemed to me the most awful sound I ever heard. 
 More vivid than ever before was the dreadful Scripture 
 imagery which typilies of the final destruction of those Avho 
 hate all that is good and true. 
 
 A few days after a visit which I once paid to this crater, 
 
 ■ I ' ■ 
 
 I 
 
 8 
 
 i 
 
 ' I 
 
 I 
 
 i ^ 
 
 .in 
 
 if 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 ' ■■ f.\ 
 m'i 
 
 m 
 
 \k 
 
574 WHERE CHRISTIANS FOUGHT WITH WILD BEASTS. 
 
 two gentlemen were standing on the very edge, where a little 
 while before I had stood unconscious of anv danger, when 
 the fumes from the pit being blown that way by a pecu- 
 liarly strong gust of wind they were overcome by it. 
 Blinded and suffocated they fell headlong into the dreadful 
 lake which boiled and blistered beneath. The only circum- 
 stance which mitigates the dreadful accident was that their 
 sufferings must have been absolutely momentary. 
 
 When we reach Eome, as Ave shall after three days in 
 Naples, how can we hope to even touch upon its grandeur 
 and beauty! We are tilled with the hopelessness of our 
 task at the very beginning, and the longer we stay roaming 
 through its miles of picture galleries, visiting its acres of 
 statuary, strolling into church after church, each one of 
 which is worth a week of study, roaming among the ruins of 
 the palaces of a score of Caesars, we are ready to aver that 
 one cannot hope to see Home thoroughly unless he has 
 months at his disposal. 
 
 Among all the sights of ruined Rome the Colosseum 
 impresses me most deeply. Here the imagination has 
 full play. Here the poetic fancy can ask for nothing 
 more. Story on story rise the tiers of seats for the spec- 
 tators who rejoiced in the bloody tragedies of those cruel 
 days. Eighty thousand people could here be accommodated, 
 and in the ampitheatre upon which all these tiers of seats 
 look down, how many dreadful tragedies were enacted! 
 
 Here came the Christians to fight with the Avild beasts. 
 Here came the gladiators to struggle in mortal combat, with 
 never a merciful thumb raised from the spectators who 
 enjoyed their agony. Here assembled the beauty and 
 chivalry, the aristocracy and royalty of Rome In her most 
 glorious days, but at the heart of this royalty and chivalry 
 and beauty was the corrupting worm of selfishness, cruelty, 
 
THE LESSON OF A RUIN. 
 
 575 
 
 corruption, and tyranny. The Colosseum is a type of all 
 that is grandest and of all that was basest in ancient 
 Rome. It is the living exhibition in substantial stone and 
 mortar of her grandest days and her weakest days, of 
 her power and her poverty alike. 
 
 We are glad that it is now a ruin, for the Colosseum 
 was always dedicated to that which was mean and tase. 
 We are glad that the ruin still stands, for it teaches the 
 whole world that material power and grandeur and wealth, 
 beyond anything which the ages have known before or 
 since, are not sufficient of themselves to make a nation truly 
 great or permanently powerful. 
 
 Of course we will go into St. Peter's before we leave the 
 ancient city. It is the fashion for many travelers to say that 
 they are disappointed in St. Peter's, and no doubt such a 
 feeling does come to one as he looks first at the unworthy 
 and meaningless fayade which greets him as he walks up to 
 the entrance. But all sense of disappointment disappeared, 
 so far as I was concerned, when I entered its vast por- 
 tals and found myself beneath its mighty domes. Every- 
 thing that marble and gilding; frescoing and mosaic 
 work can do to make a building sublimely, grandly beautiful, 
 has here been done. Tlie wealth and genius of the ages 
 have been lavished upon this wonderful church, and we do 
 not wonder that it is the IMecca of every devout Catliolic. 
 
 To the Protestant, however, accustomed to the more 
 severe simplicity of his own modest sanctuaries, there is very 
 much that is wanting, even in this magnificent church, 
 to make it all that he dreams concerning the constant 
 abiding place of God. Here the Pope seems to be glorified 
 more than the Master of the Pope. St. Peter is more 
 conspicuous than the one Avho said to him, " Henceforth 
 thou shalt be called Peter, for on this rock will I build 
 
 . 
 
676 A STORY OF THE CRUSADERS. 
 
 my church," and the Virgin ]\Iary is vastly more honored 
 than her Divine Son. With an unsatished, Imngering sense 
 of want, the Protestant Christian is Hkely to go out from 
 this gorgeous catliedral, feeling that amid all the gilding and 
 painting, the statuary and the famous shrines, he has 
 not found God or drawn any nearer to the Saviour's side. 
 
 AYhere else shall I conduct mv readers in this land of 
 Italy, crowded as it is with places of sujireme historic 
 interest? Shall we go to Pisa and visit its cathedrals 
 and its haptistry, its Leaning Bell Tower and its Cam})o 
 Santo ? "We should certainly enjoy the day there, for all 
 its sights are crowded close together, and one has no 
 wearying walk to take in going from one to another. 
 
 The Campo Santo, or sacred })lace of burial, is to me the 
 most interesting spot in little Pisa. Here, seven centuries 
 ago, the Crusaders brought shipload after shipload of sacred 
 soil from Jerusalem, Avhither they had sailed from Pisa 
 when it was a great commercial port. Their ships went out 
 crowded Avith eager, adventurous 3"ouths, many of whom, 
 alas, were to hiy their bones in the land of Palestine or on 
 the way thither, and the shi})s which sailed forth bearing the 
 pride and bloom of Italian chivalry came back loaded only 
 with dust and ashes from the Sacred City. Fifty -three 
 shiploads of this sacied soil were deposited in this great 
 rectangular enclosure, and here many Crusaders and other 
 famous men were buried. From the walls around the 
 Campo Santo, on every side, look down pictures of Biblical 
 scenes painted by the most famous artists centuries ago, 
 pictures which are still bright and fresh and vivid as though 
 the colors were laid on but yesterday. 
 
 Shall we go to Florence together and visit the miles of 
 picture galleries, its beautiful park and its lovely drives 
 along the historic Arno? Shall we feed our souls on the 
 
IN COLUMBUS'S BIRTHPLACE. 
 
 577 
 
 memories of the great deeds wliicli were done l.v tlie great 
 men of Florence in tlie days of lier pride and stren°gth? 
 When my readers do take tliis journey, not in tliis hasty 
 fasliion, but in reality, they will agree Avith me, I am 
 sure, that no days are moi-e pleasantly spent than those that 
 are devoted to charming Florence. 
 
 P>ut Ave must hurry on, not even sto])ping to spend a few 
 lazy days in the gondolas of ^^^lice, feeding the i)igeons in 
 St. Mark's Scjuare, or watching the glass-blowers in the 
 factories which line the great canal, for we must tar.-v at 
 least a time in Genoa, the 8u])erb. With our souls fired 
 with admiration for Columbus, Genoa presents a magnet 
 quite too strong to be resisted, and yet when we reacirthe 
 city of his birthplace, we find remarkal)]y f. ,v memorials of 
 the great discoverer. Tlie house in which he Avas boi-n, or in 
 which he is said by some i)eo})le to have been born, is 
 situated several miles beyond the city limits, and an auto- 
 graph letter in one of the museums is about the only 
 authentic memorial of him Avhich avo find. 
 
 But, after all, tliese material relics and memorials im- 
 pressed me not nearly as much as the intangible things all 
 around which are connected with his memory. Underlhese 
 blue Italian skies the little Columbus played, and this lovely 
 view of earth and sea and sky doubtless impressed his 
 imagination and nourished the poetic germs within his soul, 
 which made him the great discoverer of the ages. 
 
 As we mounted to the heights of the beautiful park and 
 looked off over the housetops at the blue ]\rediterranean 
 wnnpling and dimpling in the sunlight, we said to ourselves, 
 " Upon these very wavelets looked Columbus. His boyish 
 eyes AA-ere strained to see the furthest limits bounded by 
 the whitecaps in the distance, and his eager imagination, 
 perhaps, as he stood upon this very height of land, asked,' 
 
678 
 
 ALONG THE RIVIERA. 
 
 ' What is beyond the limits of the blue sea and the white- 
 caps which bound my horizon { ' " The answer to this ques- 
 tion, which in some form or other every generous youth puts 
 to himself as he grows older, was, in the case of Columbus, 
 the discovery of America and the opening of a new world 
 to commerce and civilization, and the religion of Christ. 
 
 After leaving Genoa our journey took us along the 
 Eiviera, where charming views are marred somewhat by 
 innumerable tunnels through which the railroad passes. 
 Through Nice and Mentone, famous the world over as win- 
 tering ])laces for the aristocracy of Europe, through Monte 
 Carlo and Monaco, the plague s])ot of Europe, whose wonder- 
 ful natural beauties are more than matched by the unnatural 
 depravity of its chief business ; through busy Marseilles, 
 through Narbonne and Pau and Cette, until at last we come 
 to the very borders of Spain, and, crossing the boundary 
 line, we enter into the countrv of the haughtv cavalier. 
 
 JU San Sebastian, one of the border towns, w^ich is most 
 delightfully situated on the Bay of Biscay Avith green hills 
 surrounding it on every side, is the new palace of the Queen 
 of Spain, and we were permitted to go over this abode of 
 roj^alty from garret to cellar. Though it is a fine building 
 and Avortliy of the gracious queen who will occupy it during 
 the summer months, yet it is no more imposing or magnifi- 
 cent than the houses of a hundred millionaires Avhich I have 
 seen in the United States. 
 
 Some of the rooms in the palace are designed for the 
 occupancy of generals in the army and the courtiers, and 
 are decidedly mean and narrow. They are plainly furnished, 
 only a few feet square, and frequently have but one windoAV 
 in them. The room which her Majesty herself is to occupy, 
 and the adjoining room of the Baby King w^hose face appears 
 on all Spanish postage stamps, are fine apartments, and so 
 
A LITTLE king's PASTIME. 
 
 579 
 
 lo-nili- 
 have 
 
 \>Y the 
 and 
 lished, 
 indow 
 |jcupy, 
 spears 
 Ind so 
 
 are the state parlors and banqueting rooms. But there is 
 nothing extravagant or hivish, or even particularly sump- 
 tuous, aboat the whole place. 
 
 The most notable thing about the palace is the view from 
 the front entrance. It looks out upon the beautiful Bay of 
 San Sebastian, with a broad, sandy beach stretching in the 
 foreground, while off in the distance is the entrance to the 
 harbor with bold, precipitous bluffs on either side, crowned 
 by picturescjue forts and lighthouses. The (jueen is a fa- 
 mous athlete in her vray, and especially enjoys bathing in 
 the surf. So strong a swimmer is slie, that she is said fre- 
 quently to swim out to the beautiful island in the bay, a 
 good mile from the shore. The little king meanwhile plays 
 upon the sand with his painted tin pail and little shovel, at 
 least as happy, Ave hope, as any little Spanish ragamuffin 
 whose privileges in sand and water and fresh air and de- 
 lightful scener}'^ are just as great as those of the small royal 
 personage himself. 
 
 The object of supreme interest to us in San Sebastian, 
 however, was not the palace or any of the tra])j)ings of 
 royalty, or even the most beautiful bay with its encircling 
 mountains, but the Institute for Spanish girls which has here 
 been planted by American missionaries. Here are gathered 
 several scores of black-eyed, bright, intelligent Spanish 
 maidens, who Avill lead the way in the education of the 
 women of this country, which I believe is about to awaken to 
 a new period of youth and vigor. 
 
 Such an institution is particularly needed in this land, for 
 women here, as in every Catholic country, have been system- 
 atically kept in ignorance and bound by superstitious 
 fears. For the first time in all the history of Spain, a few 
 months ago, some of the girls from this institution dared to 
 present themselves for examination at the Government uni- 
 
 35 
 
680 
 
 ADVANCKI) YOlNd WOMKN IN SPAIN. 
 
 vtM'sity, comp' tiiijr U)V tho siinio honors wliicli tlicir hrotliors 
 iiad r<)i'iiu!i'ly inoiiopoli/.cd ;ilt()<^('tli(!r. It Wiis u ^I'ciit <liiy 
 ior the Aniuricaii Institute! lor (Jirls and a jiioplM'tic day for 
 S|>ain, for sovc^ral of tli(! <^irls passrd llir ('.\aininati<>ns and 
 (!anio oir with llyin^- coloi's. Tiiey wtn'o not iiUowtid to foi'- 
 ^•('t, ho\v(!V(M', tiiat they holon/^cid to an infci'ioi' sex, for as 
 they wont U|) to iHH'oivo tlicii' «liph>nias they wore iiisscd hy 
 tho unchivah'ons yonn<^ nion. This un<^racious act, howcivcr, 
 rcactinl on tho heads of tho youn^' hooi's who por|>ot!'at('d it. 
 Tho prof(\ssors of tho univoi'sity (Mnn|)ollod th«;in to olfor a 
 8uital)lo and hurnhh; apoh)<;'y foi' their Iroatinont of tho ^irls, 
 and Ihdi pro(HMl(Mit was ostahlishod that horoaftcM", in sonio 
 pai'ts of Spain at hsast, a, youn<^' lady of intolii^onco and 
 attaimnonts will ho i"('co;;ni/od hy tho odncational authorities 
 of th(; land of Foi'dinand and Isalu>lla. 
 
 How hottoi' could Anioi'iea re|)ay tho dcjht which she 
 owes to Spain than l)y lihorally ondowin*;' this scihool, 
 and hy aidin*;' to establish others for the education of tho 
 lon<;'-n<'^l(!cte(l women of ('astile^ 
 
 A voi'y f(!W miles fi'om San Sebastian is th(; old Spanish 
 seaport of I*assa<;('s, a i)ort which was once famous in its 
 way, and from whi(;h Lafayt^tte slipped away when, in 
 opposition to the wishes of tho j^ovornment and liis friends, 
 lie espoused tho caus(! of American libei'ty and d(K;i(led to 
 stand side by side with Washington and Franklin and .loH'or- 
 son. For many years tho ontranco to the harbor has boon 
 almost imi)assable, so llUod up has it l)ocoine with the silt 
 washed down from tho mountain sides which hem in tho 
 narrow ])assago on every hand. Of late years, however, new 
 attention nas been j)aid to the hai'l)or, (lred<^ing machines 
 have made an entrance for steamers of considerable size, and 
 the old i)lace is renewing its youth. 
 
 It retains its ancient characteristics, however, and its one 
 
A CONSKHVATIVK OLD TOWN. 
 
 081 
 
 ish 
 
 its 
 
 in 
 nils, 
 
 to 
 irei'- 
 )cen 
 
 silt 
 
 tho 
 
 new 
 
 liines 
 
 , and 
 
 Htr«'«'t wliicli cniwls iiloii^ at tlir Itaso of tlir liillsidc against 
 wliicli tlx; town is hiiilt is so narcow as to he inipassaMc to 
 wlu'cUid vcliiclc'S ami to allord scarcely I'ooin l'«)r two passing 
 <lonkcvs, Ih'i'cold Spanish (Mistonis and pi'cjndiccs llomish 
 with all the loi'ce of ancient times, just as though the thriv- 
 ing, l)Mstlin<;, modern city of San Sehiistian was n<»t within 
 hailing' distance. Here the |)eopl<5 liv(% move, an<l ha vi; their 
 bein^, hake tlu;ir bread and eat their ^ai'lic and wash their 
 clothes, just as they did live hundred years a<:;o. 
 
 TIk; lattei" opei'ation is performed by women who stand 
 in the watcu" up to their kne(>s, and cold, icy spriiif.^ water it 
 is, too, while they pound and rub and beat the vi^ry life out 
 of their ^^ai'iiu'iits on Hat stones in the bed of the sticam. A 
 few years since, the town pi'cA'ided a bi'tter place for them, 
 but this thoughtful pi'ovision almost ))rovoked a riot. They 
 d«H-lai'e(l that what, hiid been ncxxl enou<;'h foi' their ^I'jmd- 
 dams was triunl enough foi' them, that th(;y would have none 
 of th«! new-fan<;led, niodei'ii wash tubs even though tlu^y 
 were [>rovi<le(l at public; exp(;ns(% and that they would still 
 staml up to theii' knees in watei* if they chose to do so. 
 Tla; authoritic's had to ^iv(! way, and the new and beautiful 
 stouii wash tubs fell into innocuous desuetudes 
 
 We will follow Lafay(!tt(;'s (^xanipl(% and, leavin<;- well- 
 known Paris ami the ohl mother country to thosi; who have 
 seen and (les(!ril)e<l tla>m so often, we will embark for 
 Amei'ica in ima<.;ination from this very Spanish |)ort, echoing 
 the sentiment which has been rin<rinn- through our hearts a 
 hundred thousand times durinn- this lon^ journey, that no 
 country is for us so precious as the land over Avhich the 
 Stars and Stripes wave, and that nothing about jj;'oin«^ 
 abroad is so altoj^ether delightful and satisfactory as tho 
 getting home again. 
 
 Is one 
 
fill 
 
 CHAPTER XX XL 
 
 OBJKCTS f^'l) UEHl'I/rS OF OUH JOUUNEY — TIIP: FAVOHING 
 HAM) OF I'KOVIDENCi: — LO(UvlN(; HACKWAUI) - HAI'I'Y 
 MEMOUIEH. 
 
 Tlio Ctit'ut OJijf'ct (tf our Journey — Australian Conventions — Unbounded 
 Entliusiasin — Tiu! Y. P. S. (.'. E. I'ennanl — Happy Memories— la 
 Marvelous Japan — A " United Society " for China — Anionj,' tlie Hin- 
 dus — Olislacles in Turkey — For))idd(!ii Words — Arrest itiff St. Paul 
 
 — niaek Eyed S|tanisli Endeavorers — Eneoura^^enient in I'aris — (jlood 
 News from the- Mother Land — Steady (jirowtii of En<leavor Societies — 
 Impressions of Missionaries and Their Work — Cruel Misre|)resentaUon» 
 
 — (iloix! Trotters' Slanders — A Diversity of (lifts — What are tlio 
 Hardsiupsofa Missionary to-day? — The Most Hopeful Feature of Mod- 
 ern Civilization — The Anglo-Saxon Missionary and His Noble Work — 
 Kuving the World through Jesus Christ. 
 
 HE ^^rout object of the journey 
 wliicii lias been described in the 
 previous cluipters, Wc'is tlie ad- 
 vancement of the Christian En- 
 deavor movement in foreign 
 countries, and tlie visiting of 
 missionary stations in heathen 
 and Mohammedan lands, for the 
 purpose of accjuainting meml)ers 
 of these societies in America 
 more thoroughly with the needs 
 and privileges of missionary 
 
 work all the Avorld over. 
 
 In every particular, the journey has been more blessed of 
 
 Providence and prospered by God's favoring hand than I 
 
 dared to believe would be possible when we undertook it. 
 
 (582) 
 
ENTHL'HIAHTIC AUSTRALIANS. 
 
 583 
 
 the 
 lul- 
 
 i<rn 
 of 
 jcn 
 the 
 )ors 
 rica 
 Beds 
 
 No accident or scM'ious detention or illness deljiyed us durinir 
 our year of travel. No ajjpointinent was niissi'd, no address 
 failed to be deliv«!red ainonj^ the two liundnMl and fifty 
 which ina<le the year such a husy on«'. Everywhere the 
 (Christian Endeavor idea was received with surprising favor. 
 
 To ho sure, we went only where wo were ask(Ml to f,'o, and 
 a<Mi'essed nieetinj^s that had been previously ai'ranged by 
 kind friends. And yet with all these fa voriujLj circumstances, 
 I did not dare to liojjo for such enthusiastic conventions, such 
 eager throngs of earnest young men and women, and such 
 large favor as was accorded to this youngest child of the 
 church, The Young Peojjle's Society of ('hristian Endeavor. 
 
 In Australia the conventions were, beyond all precedent, 
 large, entlmsiastic, and inspiring. The greatest audience 
 rooms that could be obtained in such places as Mell)ourne, 
 I'allai'at, Adcilaide, and IJrisbane, were crowded to their 
 utmost, and the spirituality and intense; earnestness and devo- 
 tion of the conventions were (piite as noticeable as the large 
 throngs which attended them. The conventions usually be- 
 gan, practically if not formally, at the railway stations, wliich 
 were usually crowded with singing Endeavorei's when we 
 arrived, and who carried their good cheer and gladness and 
 contagious enthusiasm Avith them wherever they went. 
 
 Even the railway officials and the; citv authorities of the 
 town often seemed to catch the spirit of enthusiastic youth, 
 and accorded us courtesies and kindly consideration which 
 were far beyond the nuM'its of the humbh; individuals who 
 came to advocate the claims of Chi'istian Endeavor; and yet 
 we realized from the beginning of our joui-ney to the end, 
 that not the individuals who brought the message, but the 
 society which they re])rcsented, was honored, and every 
 greeting and welcome and liearty hand-grasj) told chiefly of 
 the hjve which the young peo})le and their pastors and their 
 
684 
 
 A SKJNIFirANT WELCOME. 
 
 fathers and mothers had for this new agency which (rod lias 
 raised up *' For Christ and the (Jluircli." 
 
 One of the most significant of these welcomes, and one 
 wiiose kindly tlioiightfidness we sliall never forget, greeted 
 us when llrst we reached the bhdf headlands of Sydney 
 lijirl)or, where we saw a steam launch a|)])roacliing our 
 steamer, Hying two pennants, from one masthead the Stars 
 and Strij)es, and from another a Hag hearing the letters 
 " Y. P. S. V. E." From that moment to the day when, six 
 Aveeks later, we sailed from the harbor of Brisbane for the 
 port of Hong Kong, when the last sound that we heard Avas 
 the sweet music of ljrisl)ane Endeavorers, singing, " God be 
 •with you till we meet again," every hour was crowded with 
 pleasjmt experiences, and lives as a happy memory of the 
 great Island Continent. 
 
 During the months which have elapsed between that visit 
 and the date of the publication of this book, Christian 
 Endeavor Societies have multiplied at a most gratifying rate 
 throughout all the colonies, until now there are probably at 
 least seven hundred societies in this group of sister nations 
 which lie under the Southern Cross, while their numbers 
 are increasing quite as rapidly in the land whose people look 
 up at the familiar constellations of Orion and the Great Bear. 
 
 In the mighty land of Asia with its uncounted millions, 
 in Japan, China, and India, we found a large and most en- 
 couraging field also for the growth of Christian Endeavor 
 societies. In Japan, that marvelous new land which is 
 springing forward by leaps and bounds into the family of 
 great nations, there are already some forty Endeavor soci- 
 eties established in connection with the missions of the 
 various Protestant denominations. Several little booklets 
 have been translated into Japanese and widely circulated, 
 and much hope is expresseil by missionaries and native 
 
OVn WORK IN INDIA AND CHINA. 
 
 585 
 
 ted, 
 
 [ive 
 
 pastors of the t'lituro cllicieiicy of this new iigency of Chris- 
 tian nurture. 
 
 Ill China a Cnited Society ot" Ciiristiaii Endeavor has 
 been estahlislied with its head(|uarters at Siian<^liai. The 
 constitution ami other literature has been translated into 
 several <lialects, and two «jr three lar<<elv circulated Chinese 
 ])apers give constant attention, by means of special depart- 
 ments, to the woi'k of the society and its lujssibilities in the 
 Flowery Kingdom. 
 
 In India much satisfactory work is being |)lanned and 
 executed. The constitution of the society has been trans- 
 lated into Tamil and Telugu and Dengali and Hindustani 
 and ^[arathi. Manv vigo. )us societies alreadv exist in con- 
 nection with various missions, and it is hoped that a multi- 
 tude of struij^o'lin''' communities of Christians am' out- 
 stations where only a few can be gathered together, and 
 where there are not a sufficient number of Christians to form 
 a regular church, an organization of this sort with its })ledge 
 and its obligations of voluntary religious service mav do 
 much in the Avay of establishing firm and steadfast the 
 much-tried faith of the new converts. 
 
 In Turkey all religious work meets with greater obstacles 
 than in any other land at the present time, and the Christian 
 Endeavor Society comes in for its full share of persecution 
 and opposition. Many societies have been l)roken u}), and 
 many others which Avould have been formed have been 
 delayed because of the threatening attitude of the govern- 
 ment toward every i)ossible plan for the union of young 
 people in religious work. 
 
 A humorous stoi'v is told to the effect that a copy of the 
 Epistle of Paul to the Galatians was submitted to the 
 Turkish censor for his inspection. He was at once greatly 
 alarmed and incensed thereby, for he interpreted it as being 
 
586 A HUMOROUS STORY. 
 
 a letter to the inhabitants of Galata, which is one of the 
 divisions into whicli tlie modern city of Constantino})le is 
 divided. In liis hot wrath he at once sent u constable to the 
 mission to ap})rehen(l this agitator Paul who was writing in- 
 cendiary letters to the people of Galata. "When told that 
 the said Paul had been dead for fully ISOO years, and that 
 he could not answer to the summons of the Turkish govern- 
 ment, and that all I'le peoi)le to whom he wrote had 
 also been in their graves for almost two milleniums, his 
 wrath cooled somewhat, and he concluded to dismiss his 
 posse of constables without arresting tlie apostle. 
 
 This story simply shows, as do other instances which 
 were related in previous chapters, the absurd prejudices and 
 stupid ignorance with which religious work of all kinds has 
 to contend in the Ottoman Emi)ire, and the end of many of 
 these stories is more tragic than humorous. 
 
 Still, in spite of these obstacles, Christian Endeavor work 
 and all other kinds of Ciiristian entei'prise ;,re holding on their 
 way, waiting and hoping for better times in the Dominion of 
 the Turk. 
 
 In S})ain, we found among the Spanish girls and their 
 teachers enthusiastic Endeavorers, and tiiese girls will carry 
 the ])lans and methods of the society, as tho\' finish their 
 education and return to their home, into all parts of the 
 ancient kingdom of Castile. 
 
 In France, too, we found very much to encourage us. A 
 large nuiss meeting drawn from the seven (/hristian En- 
 deavor societies of Paris, whose nund^ers liave since been 
 multiplied, greeted us in the hall of the Y. M. C. A., and 
 hundreds of French Protestant pastors and i-eligious workers 
 came together in one of the halls of the McCall mission to 
 talk over the adaptabilities of Christian Endeavor to their 
 work and workers. 
 
MEMORABLE MEETINfiS. 
 
 58^ 
 
 their 
 iirry 
 their 
 the 
 
 A 
 
 En- 
 V)eeii 
 
 tind 
 L'kers 
 Im to 
 Itlieir 
 
 My visit to Engljind on this occasion, wliicii is not re- 
 corded in the cliupters of this book, since it is so (Utiicult to 
 find "fresh tiekls and pastures new" in tiie well-traveled soil 
 of the mother countrv, was the third which I have made 
 within the last few years in the interests of the Christian 
 Endeavor movement, and was by fai* the most encoura»^in<^ 
 of all. 
 
 I had the ])leasure of speakint^" to large and enthusiastic 
 audiences in London, Birmingham, Manchester, l])swich, 
 Glasgow, Belfast, Chester, and Liverjwol, and of attending 
 the third annual Christian Endeavor convention of the 
 British societies — an adnurable and memorable meeting. 
 Everywhere I found the same spirit, devotion, and loyal zeal 
 which I am accustomed to lincl in America, and evervwhere 
 pastors gave me tlieii' assurance, that though the growth of 
 the society was less rapid at lirst than in its home-land, it 
 was destined to do no less good and to become quite as im- 
 portant a factor in church life in England as in America. 
 
 "Within a vear of the time of this last visit, the societies 
 have multiplied from less than three hundred to nearly seven 
 hundred ; strong (yhi'istian Endeavor Unions have been estab- 
 lished in most of the leading centers of population, and the 
 outlook for the future was never so bright as to-day. 
 
 I must add, in a few words, my general impression in re- 
 ffiird to missionary work the world over; for to I'ectifv and 
 clarify and intensify these imj)ressions in my own mind and 
 the minds of others who might read or hear of this journey, 
 was one great object for which it was undertaken. I rejoice 
 to sav, that witheverv mile of the journev mv belief in mis- 
 sions and missionary work has been strengthened, my love 
 for the missionai'ies increased, and my confidence in the final 
 triumph of the religion of Christ throughout all the worUl 
 has been more surely established. 
 
588 
 
 MISREPRESENTATIONS OF SHALLOW CRITICS. 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 ]\[any and cruel misrepresentations of missionaries and 
 missionary work lind voice in the ]iress, and in the comments 
 of returned travelers who often return to their own land 
 hostile and abusive of missionary work. I liave paid ni}'^ re- 
 spects to these globe-trotters more than once in the course of 
 these chapters, and no language is too strong with which to 
 score their superficial and utterly false estimates of mission- 
 ary service. 
 
 These unsympathetic travelers Avho live in luxury and 
 comfort at home, who go abroad simply for their own con- 
 venience and pleasure, who have never sacrificed a dollar for 
 the advancement of the cause of Christ, presume to criticize 
 with vulgar sneers these brave soldiers of the Cross who have 
 given up home and native land and dear friends, and many 
 of them brilliant prospects in life, for the love Avhich they 
 bear the Master and the men for whom He died. Patience 
 ceases to be a virtue when one considers these shallow critics 
 of men whose shoe latchets they are not worthy to unloose. 
 To be sure, missionaries differ as good men differ everywhere 
 else in intellectual capacities, in natural gifts, in education, 
 and in devotion. Some are far more efficient than others. 
 Some are more wholly given to their work than their fellow 
 missionaries, and some are more successful and have larger 
 results to show for the time and money and force which they 
 expend in foreign lands. 
 
 But this is only saying what is equally true of ministers 
 and Christian people at home. There is a diversity of gifts, 
 but it is also true that a genuine spirit of loyalty to Christ 
 and of love to men, and a desire to lift them up, in everyway 
 pervades the ranks of missionaries of the cross in all lands, 
 and is their one controlling motive. During tiie past year I 
 have visited tliese faithful men and women in China and 
 Japan, in Northern India and in Southern India, in the Sand- 
 
MISSIONARIES AND THEIR WORK. 
 
 589 
 
 i and 
 nents 
 la ml 
 tiy re- 
 irse of 
 ich to 
 ission- 
 
 ry and 
 n con- 
 liar for 
 nnticize 
 lio have 
 I many 
 3h they 
 'atience 
 v critics 
 unloose, 
 y where 
 ucation, 
 others, 
 r fellow 
 e larger 
 ich they 
 
 linisters 
 )f gifts, 
 Christ 
 [eryway 
 ll lands, 
 It year I 
 jna and 
 lie Sand- 
 
 Avich Islands and Samoa, in Egypt and Syria, in Turkey, 
 Greece, France, and Spain, and without hesitation I can say 
 no nobler, more devoted, self-sacriticing, and intelligent body 
 of men and women has it ever been my privilege to meet in 
 any land. In wit and worth, in intellectual capacity and 
 administrative ability, in intelligence and in a large, states- 
 manlike grasp of the situation, their numbers cannot be 
 duplicated, I believe, in any Avalk of life. 
 
 They are, for the most part, well-equipped lief ore they 
 leave home ; they have been broadened by travel, polished by 
 contact with many men of many minds, sweetened by love 
 and devotion to Christ, ennobled by supreme and lofty life 
 purposes, and are men and Avomen who are fit to stand 
 before kings, for they have felt the ennobling touch of ser- 
 vice for the King of Kings. 
 
 Much of the misapprehension of missionary work arises 
 from the fact that the difficulties and hardshi})s are not in 
 these days as they were at first, largely ])hysical and mate- 
 rial. Few missionaries now suffer for lack of sufficient food 
 or good clothes or convenient shelter. Some of them live 
 almost as comfortably as they would live at home, and their 
 abodes, clothing, and table fare are above the average of the 
 debased tribes among whom many of them work. Tliis dif- 
 ference of social condition has given rise to many of the 
 cruel jibes of unsympathetic and slanderous travelers, Avho 
 accuse the missionaries of living in stately style in palaces, 
 while their converts grovel in miserable hovels. 
 
 But the object of the missionary, as I understand it, is to 
 lift his convert out of the hovel, and not to degrade himself 
 to the level of the heathen. Wliile it is true that the average 
 missionary lives for the most part in comparative comfort, it 
 is not true that he lives extravagantly or lavishly. lie is 
 always willing to go down among people for whom he works; 
 
 *!(■ 
 
' 
 
 590 
 
 LAST WORDS. 
 
 he is willing to wear their clothes, eat their coarse fare, and 
 live in their filthy huts, if necessary, and he often does all 
 these and more ; at the same time he is constantly trying to 
 raise the people unto whom he has been sent to a higher 
 level of respectability and Christian manhood. 
 
 I am glad to have my last words in this book testify to 
 the fact that missionary work of all the various Protestant 
 denominations in all parts of the world is, in my eyes, the 
 most promising and hopeful feature of modern civilization. 
 For the enlargement of commerce, for the spread of civiliza- 
 tion, for the uplifting of humanity, for the redemption of the 
 world, there is no such force as that which is exerted by the 
 Anglo-Saxon missionaries of the Cross, the ministers of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
and 
 s all 
 
 igto 
 gher 
 
 Ey to 
 itant 
 , the 
 tion. 
 iliza- 
 f the 
 y the 
 I the 
 
,-f I ■■■'■" 
 
 n ^ 
 
 ^a/)^n'Wb ^. ^ivur^^ 
 
 
-^^% 
 
 
 v^, -^V^IlUi) 
 
 
 \i 
 
 fl 
 
 §!is $fpn (Through a oOloinanh (^|)fs. 
 
 rojtv 
 
 HtN ;i man >u'i a ^vi'uiuii uro 
 journeying " ,\r«>unii th*iWorI<l" 
 ' - ■ ' ' *' are lik«'lv to soo 
 iirough (lilferent 
 man may, per- 
 <*jirer vision and a 
 btit the w(mian. 
 •>>M' . jsure, and with 
 
 in .'laities in somr' di- 
 
 iiise she is a woman, 
 little thinjtys which 
 .>• t'M'HjK'd the larger vision, 
 and yet are )i..i«- ■.,,'- i.--,.^ "^Ht'osiing. 
 
 It is with the hoj>p that some of the experitvii* <•> and 
 observations of an Aia^^rican wojuan in strange lands may 
 be interesting to h»»r sisters in the home-huid, tiiat she hns 
 ventured to present tiiese glimpses of life and scenes among 
 the women and children of otiier countries tJian m>.v-. is 
 they appeared to her. 
 
 ( m ) 
 
 mdwyd^ &. t^/t^^ 
 
r 
 
 ^ it I r i 
 
 ,1 t- ' / 
 
 . r :.;/ ■ '('■ 
 
gls ,§cen i^hrflugh Jt taloman's tfires. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 ^HEN a man and a woman are 
 journeying "Around the World " 
 together they are likely to see 
 all things through different 
 glasses. The man may, per- 
 haps, have a clearer vision and a 
 wider outlook; but the woman, 
 Avith more leisure, and with 
 more opportunities in some di- 
 rections because she is a woman, 
 will notice little things which 
 have escaped the larger vision, 
 and yet are none the less interesting. 
 
 It is with the hope that some of the experiences and 
 observations of an American Avoman in strange lands may 
 be interesting to her sisters in the home-land, that she has 
 ventured to present these glimpses of life and scenes among 
 the Avomen and children of other countries than ours, as 
 they appeared to her. 
 
 (593) 
 
 mo/^nnJf (S>. ^Za/rn^ 
 
T 
 oc 
 

 ^'.\m\M 
 
 isMlf 
 
 Bs Seen ilbcougb a Woman'd £scd. 
 
 CIIAPTEK I. 
 
 A WOMAN'S LIFE AT SPLV — HOUSEKEEPING IN A FLOATING 
 PRISON — LIFE UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS. 
 
 At Sea — Housekeeping on a Smiill Scale — Daily Life in a Floating 
 Prison — A Consoling Stewardess — Tea and Toast in a Stateroom — 
 A Bed that Never Kept Still — Lucid Intervals — Moving into a New 
 Home — Arranging our Belongings — Going to Housekeeping Eighteen 
 Times in One Year — Tlie Back Yard of an Ocean Steamer — Sighing for 
 a Pine Stump — A Chinese Steward, A Malay Quartermaster, and an 
 English Cai)tain — Life on the Chinrjtii — Under the Southern Cross — 
 A Velvet-footed Steward — Doleful TernuK Pleasant INIemories. 
 
 |OAV many pleasant memoi'ies of 
 our life on ocean steamers come 
 back to me as I write! After 
 traveling for weeks on land, liv- 
 ing in trunks meanwhile, stop- 
 ping two (lays in this place and 
 one in the next, a homelike feel- 
 inff alwavs came over me when 
 we moved our worldly posses- 
 sions into the little stateroom of 
 a steamer and settled down to 
 housekeeping for a few days. 
 To be sure, it was housekeeping on a small scale, but only 
 think of the delight of having one room that you can call 
 your very own for eight or ten or twelve days, and on one 
 occasion even for twenty-four days. Just think of it, O ye 
 
 (595) 
 
690 
 
 RESTFUL DAYS. 
 
 housekeepers, who can spread your possessions over a whole 
 house and keep them there all the time, with never a 
 thought of change save that of ])leasing your own fancy. 
 
 Life and travel on land was usually a rush, a hurry, and 
 hustle; conventitms and tea meetings, sight-seeing, recep- 
 tions and visiting, wrestling with trunks, waiting at railroad 
 stations, changing cars, whirling througii city streets in 
 jinrikisluis, or jolting in jutkahs, led us a husy life on shore. 
 How welcome the change to an ocean steamer and the 
 prospect of a sea voyage, long or siiort, after four or five of 
 such busy weeks ! How quiet it seemed, as Ave pushed the 
 steamer trunk under the berth, after taking out the favorite 
 articles that would be wanted first and disposing of them in 
 different places ! To be sure, my wrapper was usually the 
 first thing needed, and my berth the first place I sought, 
 but what of that ! After the bustle and confusion on land, 
 was it not restful to spend a few days in perfect quiet on 
 the berth or the lounge ? As for food, Avhat could be more 
 soothing than the cup of tea and the slice of cold toast 
 served by the hands of the stewardess three times a day. 
 "What could be more comforting than her assurance that 
 " the sea is growing smoother and probably it will be quite 
 calm by to-morrow." True there are no visible indications 
 that the sea is growing calmer, and you think it is quite 
 probable that she only says it is from a desire to make herself 
 agreeable; still, it is a comfort to have her say so, even if 
 you do not believe it. All this may suggest rather a doubt- 
 ful kind of rest, but it loas rest nevertheless, and I always 
 looked forward longingly to my floating prison. 
 
 Besides, I frequently had lucid intervals when I could go 
 on deck and enjoy life with the rest of the party that made 
 up our little world. There were days w^hen the sea was 
 calm and peaceful and I could promenade up and down the 
 
THANKFUL FOR SMALL FAVORS. 
 
 597 
 
 go 
 Ide 
 
 ks 
 
 ihe 
 
 deck, and sing in my lieart tliat old tune our fathers and 
 
 mothers sung years ago, ^ 
 
 " Fly like a youthful hu-n-nrt or roe, 
 Over the hl-i-i-ils where spi-i-i-ces grow." 
 
 There were rough and stormy (Uiys, it is true, when the 
 ship tossed and })itched, and I lay on my back in my berth 
 with closed eyes, and sighed, " Oh, for a lodge in some vast 
 wilderness," or, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove." But 
 even this was an episode, and if the voyage was long a few 
 days of seasickness now and then served to break the monot- 
 ony. Think of this, ye Aveary housekeepers, who dun take 
 your rest every night, and every day if you Avill, in a bed 
 and keep still, and in a room which boasts at least one good- 
 sized Avindow! 
 
 If I have learned nothing else in this long journey I have 
 learned to be thankful for small mercies. 
 
 There was always a pleasant excitement in going on 
 board a steamer and starting on a new voyage. Where was 
 our stateroom situated t "Was it an outside room ? Was it 
 on the pleasant side of the ship, where Ave could haA'e the 
 port open ? How far Avas it from the dining-room and how 
 far from my seat at table? IIow many seconds Avould it 
 take to go from the table to my berth if I should suddenly 
 decide that I did not want anv breakfast ? 
 
 Then came the pleasure of unpacking our goods and 
 settling down to housekeeping again. It was like moving 
 into a ncAv house. We looked about to see how large the 
 stateroom A\as, Avhat conA'eniences it possessed, and con- 
 sidered how to make the most of them. This berth shall be 
 my room ; this net Avhich holds so many little things shall 
 be my bureau ; this hook shall be my Avardrobe, or " almira," 
 as they call it in India. Perhaps I can cA^en haA'e tAVo hooks. 
 This trunk Avill make a good divan Avhen it is pulled out 
 
 36 
 
608 
 
 HOUSEkiiEPlNG AT SEA. 
 
 from under the berth, and it can l)e pushed under again 
 wlien it is not wanted, Tliis lounge shall be the spare room, 
 for the use of the family, or for an occasional f<;uest. This 
 little shelf under the glass shall be the dressing-table, and 
 this camp stool the easy chaii'. This narrow space between 
 the berths and the lounge will hardly do for the parlor, but 
 ])ei'haps we'll call it the hall, and, when the divan is pulled 
 out, it Avill do for the family sitting-room. " Now we are all 
 settled," as a certain small boy, the little pilgrim of the 
 ])arty, always said when he had everything ai'rang(ul to his 
 satlsfa(tt"ion, and we were ready to sail. 
 
 It is not everycme who has the privilege of going to 
 housel«!(!ping eighteen times in tin; cours(! of one; yi^ar, aiul 
 each time; in a, diib^i-cMit land, or, i-athcr, on a diU'erent s(ia. 
 TIh' spirit moves mi; to wi'ili^ a whoh? chaptei" on the Yellow 
 Scii. and ii doh^ful chapter it would be, I am afraid. I v. oiild 
 lik'c to wi'ite a chiipter on '' llouseUec^ping at the lM|iiiitoi','' 
 or " Lile on tlu; Trluchdlrhnf," or " At lIom(i on the Anifura 
 Sea," or " Days in the Doldi'ums," but a(M)mi)assionate spirit 
 com(!S ovei' me and I foi'bciii'. 
 
 A c(M"tain traveler, who has i'e(;orded his expei'iences, 
 speaks in ]»rais(^ of the one; steanuM' on which he traveled, and 
 his delight in coming back always to tla; same steanuM' and 
 the sam(^ traveling companions; but his experience; was not 
 t)urs, and to us.i i-hangeof steanuM's seemed much |)leasant{;r. 
 Pei'haps, however, this nuiy not decide the (piestion, but may 
 oidy s(!i'V(! to show a, comnuindable desii'e, both on his par't 
 and on ours, to be content in whatever state (or st(;amer) one 
 is com|)elled to tal<(;, and to acc(!pt tlu; gifts the gods provi<le 
 and be thankful. Siip|»ose you)' stateroom In small, and on 
 the wrong side; of tlu; ship so that the poi-ts must often be 
 ch)sed. N(!ver mind, you will 1kiv<! bettcM' foi'tune next 
 time, and "it's an ill wind that blows nobody good." Sup- 
 
THE BACK YARD OF A S^IIP. 
 
 509 
 
 uni 
 
 liril 
 
 •(>>, 
 
 illUl 
 
 iUUl 
 
 not 
 iter, 
 jiiay 
 
 iirt 
 lone 
 
 •ide 
 
 on 
 
 >xt 
 
 pose your follow passengers arc 9>ot tlio most agreeable })eople 
 in the worlds Never mind, they are only going on this 
 voyage, and you will leave them at the next port. Su])i)ose, 
 on the other iian<l, that they are all very agreeable people, 
 and you are sorry to leave them. Never mind, you will 
 make other delightful aecpiaintances on the next steam«;r, 
 and we shall be sure to meet them again, sometime, some- 
 where ; and oh, liow many delightl'id I'ricinds we shall have 
 l)eroi'e the year is over! Suppose you do not nn<l tiie table 
 or the service (piitc satisfactory. Ts«'vei' mind, they are sure 
 to be bett(!r next time. 
 
 Think, too, of the delights of keeping hous(! in a dillei'ent 
 ])lac(! (;acli <lay. Oh, tired h<)usek(!ej)ei' in tlu^ dear home- 
 land, did you evei' \V(!ary of looking out ui»on the sairie 
 sights day aft(M' day'!' Did you ever get tired of the tre(^ in 
 front of your kilehen window and wish it were a, jxtst oi" a 
 rock, a llow<!r-be(l or a fountain^ l)id you ever weary of 
 looking into your neiglil)or's l)a('k yard i Then you will 
 undcM'stand how deiiglilfid it is to lind youi' house in a new 
 piac<! every morning. If you (h) not like yoni' front yard 
 to-day, you ca,n consoji! yourself witii tlu! thought that it 
 will be youi' back' yai'd to-nioi'row. If you are not ])ieas(!(l 
 Avith the Handa S(!a this week, yon know yon will have tin; 
 Siilu S(Mi next wec^k. If Thursday Island does not suit you, 
 wait a, day oi' two and you can have Friday Island, or 
 Satui'day Island. 
 
 It is tru(! that all water looks \rvy ninch alike, wh(!ther 
 it is th(! Yellow Sea, oi* the I'osplioi'us, but iIkmi you can 
 always assure yourself that it is not th(> same, and that you 
 ari' looking out upon a, dillei'ent place from ycstei'day. 
 
 I must confess to an o(;(;asional wild desire to tie our 
 house to a iwM somewher(\ and keep it still foi' a little while, 
 and to certain unappeased longings for an old stump that I 
 
600 
 
 A MOTLEY CREW. 
 
 have often looked upon as a disfiguring blot upon the land- 
 scape. There were days when I should have considered that 
 stump " a thing of beauty and a joy forever," if I could have 
 been set down suddenly beside it. However, this only goes 
 to show what discontented creatures we mortals are. When 
 we have a stump we sigh for something else, and when we 
 have something else we pine for a stump. Such is life ! 
 
 I remember three or four different steamers which 
 seemed to me particularly delightful. I shall never forget 
 the day I climbed up from the Tarshaw — a little steam-tug 
 that had brought us out from Brisbane — over a high railing 
 and down on to the deck of the Chingtu, thence into our 
 stateroom, which was to be our home for three weeks. "We 
 were all tired after a long series of meetings for nearly six 
 weeks, and the prospect of rest was comforting. As we 
 arranged our household effects in the little stateroom, what 
 a delightful feeling of peace and quietness came over us! 
 No more meetings, no more hurrying to catch a ^min, no 
 more packing and unpacking, nothing to do but to rest and 
 keep house for three weeks with everything new and 
 interesting, for the steward of the Chhujtfi Avas a Chinaman, 
 the quartermaster was a Malay, the captain Avas an English- 
 man, with a general disregard of his h's, and the passengers 
 were mostly Chinese. 
 
 Nothing can be more delightful than early morning in 
 the tropics. After the hot night in the little stateroom 
 below it was refreshing to go up on the cool deck, and, 
 reclining lazily in a steamer chair, look off upon tho land and 
 sea, for Ave Avere inside the Great Barrier reef and Avere 
 almost ahvays in sight of land. Often a soft footfall on 
 deck announced John Chinaman, our table stcAvard, bringing 
 a cup of delicious tea and some dainty little pieces of toast, 
 hot, crisp, nicely buttered, and tempting to the appetite. 
 
DAILY LIFE AT SEA. 
 
 601 
 
 our 
 We 
 / six 
 
 we 
 tvhat 
 
 us I 
 no 
 
 and 
 
 and 
 
 Igers 
 
 Is: in 
 
 loom 
 land, 
 I and 
 Ivere 
 on 
 ring 
 mst, 
 Itite. 
 
 At half-past eight came breakfast in the cool dining-saloon, 
 with punkahs moving briskly to make a breeze, and Chinese 
 stewards, in their white jackets, flitting about the room 
 attending to the wants of the passengers. 
 
 The forenoons always passed quickly with reading^ and 
 writing and sewing, for this was an easy, lazy kind of house- 
 keeping with no household cares to attend to. Before it 
 seemed possible that it could be so late would come the call 
 to tiffin, and we Avere always ready to respond, for there is 
 nothing like a sea breeze to give one an appetite. Then an 
 afternoon nap, a game or two of quoits on deck, a little writ- 
 ing, and, almost before we know it, it is " eight bells," and 
 John Chinaman again appears with more tea and toast. 
 Strange as it ma}^ seem, Ave are ready for it again, and the 
 tea is so good and the toast so hot and so daintily served 
 that it Avould tempt the poorest appetite. 
 
 Ding, dong, — two bells. Can it be five o'clock ? Almost 
 dinner time, and we have only time enough for a little 
 promenade. 
 
 How delightful the cool, evening breeze, and wliat a 
 gorgeous sunset ! If morning in the tropics is always 
 beautiful, the long, moonlight evenings on the steamer's 
 deck are no less so, with the Southern Cross looking down 
 upon us ! It Avas hard to realize on those Avarm summer 
 evenings that our friends at home Avere shiA'ering in the chill 
 November blast, Avhile Ave sat lazily in our steamer chairs 
 enjoying the cool soft air and dreading the descent into our 
 stuffy little stateroom. 
 
 Then there Avas the Emj^'css of China Avith its large, 
 convenient staterooms, which seemed to us like palatial 
 apartments, Avith its broad, shady decks, and little English 
 children running about under the care of their Chinese 
 Ammahs. There Avas the Japanese steamer, the Yokohama 
 
603 
 
 MEMORIES OF OUR LIFE AT SEA. 
 
 Maru, on which we spent such a dismal Christmas on the 
 Yellow Sea, and the Peru, which carried us safely through 
 a Typhoon on Thanksgiving eve, and the Eussian steamer 
 Tchiclcatehoff, one of the very pleasantest steamers of them 
 all, and the Victoria, and many others which might be 
 mentioned. All of these floating homes of ours have pleas- 
 ant memories connected with them, besides not a few gloomy 
 ones. What a fortunate thing it is that the doleful memories 
 fade away and only the bright ones linger. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 AMONG THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN OF JAPAN — A JAPAN- 
 ESE PRAYER MEETING — NATIVE POLITENESS AND ETI- 
 QUETTE—MY EXPERIENCE WITH CHOPSTICKS. 
 
 Compensations — The Brown Babies of India — Tlie Yellow Babies of 
 Japan — Queensland Luej' — A Forlorn Little Black Girl — The Hottest 
 Place on Earth — Home Life in Japan — Going to Prayer Meeting in a 
 Jinrikisha — A Shuffling, Awkward Gait — Where We Left Our Shoes 
 
 — Japanese Etitjuette — A Cordial Welcome — Bowing to the Floor 
 
 — "Rock of Ages" in Japanese — An Interesting Meeting — Struggling 
 with a Foreign Language — "Sayouara"to (mr Friends — Japanese 
 Refreshments — Eating Bean Soup with Chopsticks — A Dillicult 
 Operation — Drinking Soup from a Bowl — Delusive Beans — New Use 
 for a Sleeve — A Japanese Pillow — The Professor of Flowers. 
 
 OME of the compensations tluit 
 
 come to a woman who for the 
 
 sake of taking a journey around 
 
 the Avorld has given up her own 
 
 home, are the delightful glimpses 
 
 she gets of other homes, and the 
 
 pleasant acquaintances made with 
 
 other women and children. If 
 
 she cannot cuddle her own babies 
 
 she can cuddle the little brown 
 
 ones in India or Cevlon, or the 
 
 yellow ones in China and Japan, 
 
 and in talking with their mothers she cannot help but feel a 
 
 sympathy Avith home life in other lands such as never could 
 
 have been awakened by books or travelers' tales. 
 
 One of my first native acquaintances was little " Queens- 
 
 (G03) 
 
€04 
 
 LITTLE ''QUEENSLAND LUCY," 
 
 land Lucy " (as we called her), on the Mariposa^ the steamer 
 which carried us from San Francisco to Sydney. Her sad 
 little face was the blackest one I ever saw, and she was so 
 thin and poor that I wondered if she ever had enough to 
 •eat. As I became better acquainted with her, I found that 
 the sober face could light up with a smile, and that in spite 
 of her forlorn appearance she had a comfortable home. She 
 was an aboriginal Australian girl from North Queensland, 
 who had been adopted by white people, who cared for her as 
 if she had been their own. She was a most forlorn little 
 miss to look at, however, and seemed to have very little idea 
 of life as happy, rolicking children in America know it. 
 During all those twenty-four days on the llarijposa, I never 
 saw her run about and play like other children. She would 
 sit alone most of the time with her patchwork in her lap, 
 sometimes sewing a little, sometimes reading, and often with 
 her hands folded, doing nothing. She seemed to be happy, 
 however, in her own quiet way, and an occasional walk on 
 deck seemed to be recreation enough to satisfy her. After- 
 wards Ave saw more of these aboriginal inhabitants of 
 Australia at Poit Darwin. They are repulsive looking 
 people, most of them as thin as skeletons, all of them with 
 very black faces, but seeming happy and contented with 
 their lot in life. 
 
 It seemed to me that Port Darwin was the hottest place 
 on the face of the earth, but a few European people manage 
 to live there, and the natives seemed to like the terrific heat. 
 Groups of mothers and children sat on the ground basking 
 m the sun. The mothers seemed to be very fond of their 
 black babies, and some of them were bright looking little 
 tots, though none were pretty„ In every other country I 
 invariably found bright, pretty, attractive children, no 
 matter what their color or their costume might be, but 
 
HOME LIFE IN JAPAN. 
 
 005 
 
 Dking 
 I Avitli 
 I with 
 
 Wace 
 Inage 
 Iheat. 
 Lking 
 Itheir 
 llittle 
 
 no 
 but 
 
 among all these little black babies in North Australia I did 
 not see one that looked kissable or even as though it could 
 be made so. 
 
 So far as I could learn, but little is being done to civilize 
 or Christianize these people, though I believe there are a few 
 missionaries among them. My heart went out to those poor, 
 dirty, black babies, and I wished with all my heart that I 
 could do something for them. 
 
 We had delightful glimpses 
 of home life in Japan. On one 
 occasion I was invited by a mis- 
 sionary lady to attend a wo- 
 men's prayer meeting in Yoko- 
 hama, an invitation I was glad 
 to accept. She called two jin- 
 rikishas, which soon appeared 
 at the door, and after the jinrik- 
 isha men had wrap})ed their 
 red blankets about us we started 
 o^. This is a comfortable way 
 of traveling ; indeed, it is almost 
 the only way in Japan, though 
 there are now a few horses in 
 Yokohama, and also in Tokio. 
 
 IIow I wish the friends at 
 home could have seen the people we met that afternoon! 
 The demure Japanese maidens with their pretty costumes 
 and obis, shuffling along on their wooden shoes ; the little 
 boys and girls with babies tied on their backs, — the babies' 
 heads bobbing about in every direction as the children ran 
 and played ; the old women with their wrinkled fjjces and 
 their black teeth ; the jinrikisha men waiting at every cor- 
 ner, standing by their little carriages or sitting between the 
 
 A JAPANESE MOTIIEU. 
 
GOG 
 
 AN ANIMATED HAYSTACK. 
 
 shafts with their gay blankets Avrapped about them; and 
 occasionally a stylish Japanese lady out for a ride, or an 
 Englishman out for a M^alk. 
 
 It began to rain a little while we were upon this our first 
 journey in a jinrikisha, and while we were quite well pro- 
 tected by the covering overhead, our carriers protected 
 themselves by putting on their rain-coats — not mackin- 
 toshes, dear reader, or rubber 
 monstrosities such as we wear 
 at home, but a cheap and con- 
 venient affair made of rice- 
 straw, which sheds the water 
 like the feathers of a duck. 
 Thus thatched, our jinrikisha 
 man looked like an animated 
 lun'stack. His rain cloak cov- 
 ered him almost from head to 
 heels. In the crowded street 
 he was continually shouting, 
 at the top of his voice, ''Hi- 
 hi," which may be translated 
 into English, I suppose, as 
 "Look out there," "Get out 
 of the way," in order to clear 
 a passage for our little procession. 
 
 Some of the Japanese maidens who passed us in the 
 street were very pretty, though I wished they might learn 
 to walk more gracefully instead of shuffling along in an 
 awkward manner in their clumsy wooden shoes. 
 
 After a half-hour's ride, we arrived at last at the private 
 house where the class-meeting w^as to be held. Before 
 entering we sat on the doorstep, took off our boots, and put 
 on some soft felt slippers which we had brought with us. 
 
 A JAPANESE MAIDEN. 
 
Iin the 
 learn 
 in an 
 
 orivate 
 before 
 id put 
 Itli us. 
 

 F 
 
 y 
 t] 
 
AT A JAPANESE PRAYER MEETING. 
 
 609 
 
 As soon as we were inside the house, I understood why cus- 
 tom required us to take off our boots, for the floor, which 
 was covered with dainty, soft straw matting, was immacu- 
 lately neat and clean. 
 
 Japanese women wear wooden shoes, which are held on 
 by a strap across the top of the foot and are easily slipi)ed 
 off at the door ; thev wear only stockinj^s on their feet Avhile 
 they are in the house. 
 
 A little company of women sat on the floor waiting for 
 us. They politely pointed to some cushions which had been 
 placed ready in anticipation of our coming, whereupon we, 
 too, sat down on the floor. It was a cordial Japanese Avel- 
 come, our hostesses bowing down until their foreheads 
 touched the floor. AVe returned the salutation as well as we 
 could, though it was not easy to do it gracefully. 
 
 The meeting opened by singing the hymn, "Rock of 
 Ages." My hymn book contained a translation of the hymn 
 in Japanese, and I joined Ayith the others in singing : 
 
 " Chiyo lieslii iwa yo, 
 Ware wo kakuslil nc, 
 Sakareshi waki no, 
 Mizu to chishlo ni, 
 Waga tsumi toga wo, 
 Arai Kiyomeyo.'' 
 
 I realized as never before that Ave Avere all children of 
 the same HeaA^enly Father and that Christian men and 
 women OAve something to their brothers and sisters in other 
 lands, Avhether we recognize the obligation or not. 
 
 Christ's last command, "Go ye into all the AA'orld and 
 preach the Gospel to every creature," simply means, find out 
 your brothers and sisters eA'eryAvhere, help just as many of 
 them as you can, tell them of their Heavenly Father and of 
 His love for them. I Avish that those people Avho think mis- 
 
 Ml 
 
CIO MY FIRST LESSON IN JAPANESE. 
 
 sionaries are not accotnplishing anything could have been 
 present at this little meeting ! 
 
 One after another Japanese woman took part. They 
 spoke earnestly and freely of their religious experiences. I 
 could not understand their words, but I could see the rever- 
 ent si)irit they showed and could unite with them in prayer. 
 
 When I was asked to speak a few words to them I re- 
 alized the difficulty missionaries ex[)erience in struggling 
 with a foreign tongue. It is never easy to speak through an 
 interpreter. As this was my first day in Japan I had not 
 learned even one word of their language. The meeting 
 closed with another hymn, and after many salutations and 
 much bowing we departed. 
 
 Sitting on the doorsteps once more, we put on our boots, 
 and my missionary friend turned and said to our hosts, 
 "Sayonara" (good-bye), I thought I could manage as much 
 as that, so I, too, said "Sayonara," and the good sisters 
 laughed and bowed and seemed much interested. 
 
 Afterwards I visited other Jai)anese homes, and all were 
 attractive places. Clean, white, soft matting on the floors, 
 the ever-present vase of flowers, the i)retty screens, even the 
 absence of furniture was pleasant to one who had been 
 accustomed to see so many over-furnished and over-decorated 
 American homes. 
 
 I cannot say that I enjoyed Japanese refreshments. I 
 took several lessons in the use of chopsticks, but never be- 
 came proficient in managing them. It must require years 
 of practice to use them skillfully and gracefully. 
 
 I remember especially one experience soon after we 
 reached Japan. I had been at a woman's prayer meeting 
 and at the close refreshments were brought in. We sat on 
 the floor in true Japanese style, not a very comfortable 
 fashion for one who is not accustomed to it. Our hostess 
 
AN EMBARRASSED GUEST. 
 
 Gil 
 
 served refreshments on little square trays of lacquer work, 
 setting one tray on the floor in front of each guest. On 
 each tray was a little bowl of bean soup, a pair of chop 
 sticks, a cup of tea, some little cakes, two oranges, and four 
 persimmons. I looked at mine in despair, for I was not 
 hungry and did not know just how much native eti(|uette 
 required me to eat. 
 
 Evidently the bean soup was the thing to begin with. I 
 watched the others and then began on mine as they did on 
 
 I 
 
 be- 
 ?ars 
 
 we 
 
 {mg 
 
 on 
 
 Lble 
 
 less 
 
 
 .lAPANESK IlEFKEPIIMKNTS. 
 
 theirs, eating the beans and the rice cakes Avith the chop- 
 sticks and drinking the soup from the bowl. The rice cake 
 was too big to eat whole and it was certainly rather hard to 
 manage with the chopsticks. Moreover the soup was sweet- 
 ened, and as I prefer salt and pepper in soup, I did not en- 
 joy it very much. 
 
 However, I struggled with my chopsticks and fished out 
 as many beans as I could, and drank the soup. But those 
 beans were a delusion and a snare. After Avrestling with 
 the chopsticks and at last catching a bean I Avould raise it to 
 
 : 
 
612 
 
 CHOPSTICK OYMNASTICS. 
 
 I 
 
 my lips, my mouth would ojwii to receive it — and down 
 would go tiio Ijean into the soup.. Then I would drink a 
 little SOU]) and try again. I succeeded in capturing several 
 beans, l)ut it was the work of time and patience, and at last 
 I gave it uj); fori found that the others had all iinished 
 theirs and had leisure to observe my frantic efforts. 
 
 The tea was very sti-ong, without milk or sugar, but it 
 was served in such dainty china cups that one could hardly 
 
 i 
 
 WAMtlNC DAV IN .lAI'AN. 
 
 refrain from di'inkiiig it. The littic! ciikes, too, were good, 
 and the oi-angcs and ])ei'simmons delicious, but must 1 eat 
 them nWf 
 
 As I watched the otliei' guests, T saw that they ate what 
 tliey j)leiis(!d and put the rest in tiieir sleeves. ISly sleeves 
 wei'e not lai'ge enough to l)e v(;ry usc^ful in that way, but 
 my missionary friend pi'oduced a handkerchief which sh(5 
 had thoughtfully pi'ovidcd for the occasion, and the left-over 
 dainties were carried home. 
 
 After we had pai'takeii of refi'eslnneiits came the leave- 
 
A CKUEMONIOUS LEAVE-TAKINO. 
 
 U13 
 
 taking, which couhl not bo hurriod. Ono at a time the 
 hulies rose and l)o\ve(l to tlie lloor, first before the iiostess 
 and tiien before eacii of the other guests. As th<;re were 
 twenty-live or tiiii'ty ladies prescMit it was some time before; 
 the pro})or amount of l)owing was (h)ne ; l)ut at lengtii the 
 last farewell was si)oken and stepping into our jini'ik'ishas 
 we were ti'undled through the nai'row streets and back to 
 our home. 
 
 I have nevei- exp(M'i- 
 cnced sleei)ing in a, .laj)- ;•. i. 
 
 anese bed, but I saw a 
 good many of them and 
 they looked inviting. 
 
 Thick 
 
 eomfortaliUss were 
 
 laid (»n soft, white straw 
 matting, Imt Ihi; hard, 
 I'ound |)ill()W (lid not seem 
 comhieive to I'est. The; 
 fla]>anese wooden |)iilow 
 never had any attractions 
 for me, thoiigli unless one 
 tries to copy tla^ rearful 
 
 and 
 
 woiu 
 
 lerful 
 
 slvi(! ol 
 
 haii'-dressing adopted by many .Japanesf! women tli(!i'(! is no 
 need of using it. 
 
 A missionary school in any foreign land is always an in- 
 teresting place. I i'eni(!mber going into one of them in 
 .la|)an just at the tinu^ when the Moral prolessor (if that is 
 liis tide) was giving lessons in the ai'i'angement of flowers. 
 It was a pi-etty sight to watch a demui'c; .Japanese maiden as 
 she took up a little Mower stalk, oi' adry twig broken from 
 a leaMess tree, and ti'ie(| it Mrst in one position and then in 
 another, turning her head [H'ettily to one side; and then to 
 
614 
 
 THE ART OF ARRANGING FLOWERS. 
 
 the other, all the time looking anxiously at the flower to 
 study the effect, Avhile the professor looked gravely on or 
 offered an occasional suggestion. 
 
 From one pupil to another the professor went just as I 
 have seen a teacher of drawing go around among his pupils, 
 giving a word of praise here, offering a suggestion there, or 
 a criticism somewhere else. How earnestly the girls worked 
 at their task, and how pleased they were with a word of 
 commendation ! 
 
 At first, one is inclined to question whether their time 
 might not be more profitably employed ; but as I saw the 
 results of their skillful and artistic work in the graceful ar- 
 rangements of flowers, and thought of some of the useless 
 fancy work I had seen girls do in American homes, it 
 seemed to me that this part of a Japanese maiden's educa- 
 tion is worthy of all praise and could well be followed by 
 girls of other lands. Such a tasteful arrangement of flowers 
 was new to my American eyes. Who would have thought 
 that four or five dry twigs broken from a leafless tree would 
 make such an artistic bouquet, or that a vase with only 
 three sprays of chrysanthemums could be so beautiful ? 
 
 After looking at these dainty vases, each one holding but 
 three or four sprays and only one kind of flower, each spray 
 arranged with careful reference to the others and all droop- 
 ing in the most graceful manner, — how coarse and awkward 
 our great round American boutjuets seemed, with all kinds 
 of flowers, arranged often without the slightest regard to 
 color or harmony. I shall never look at another bouquet 
 without thinking of the beautiful flowers, always artistically 
 arranged, that can be seen in so many homes in Japan. 
 
 Twice a week, in some of the schools, the girls spend an 
 hour Avith the floral professor in studying this science ; for it 
 is a real science as they take it up, and there are definite 
 
NOT PAR BEHIND THEIR SISTERS. 
 
 615 
 
 or 
 
 rules governing not only the arrangement of each flower 
 spray, but its relation to all the other sprays and to the vase 
 that is to hold them. 
 
 Let it not be thought, however, that this is the only or 
 most important study taken up by the Japanese girls. 
 Many of these mission schools would rank well with our 
 own high schools and seminaries at home, and the girls at 
 Kobe College or the Doshisha Avould compare very favor- 
 ably with the girls at "Wellesley or Smith or Vassar. 
 
 Ically 
 
 Id an 
 lor it 
 linite 
 
 87 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 AMONG THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN OF INDIA -NATIVE 
 DRESS AND ORNAMENTS — LIFE INSIDE A RICH HEATH- 
 EN HOME — HEATHEN DOLLS, BRIDES, AND WIDOWS. 
 
 Children in Ceylon — Persistent Little Beggars — Curly-Headed Karo — 
 "My so Poor" — Pretty Brown Babies — Little Hands Stretched out 
 for Alms — Ceylon Dandies — Picturesque Waiters — A Race of Beg- 
 gars—Tipping an Army of Attendants — Starting on a Journey at 
 Three o'clock in the Morning — A Wagon Ride of Seven Miles in the 
 Moonlight — Through the Streets of Vellore — Arrival at a Mission 
 Bungalow — A Native Girl's Boarding School — A Bridal Trousseau in 
 Red and Yellow — Life Inside a Heathen Home — Our Reception by the 
 "Bo" — A Peep into the "Baboo's" Apartments — A Display of 
 Jewelry — An American Doll in India — A Heathen Doll — Mrs. Grundy 
 in a Zenana — Ten-Year-Old Brides — Child Widows. 
 
 NE does not always realize, when 
 looking at the little spot on the 
 map marked "Ceylon," Avhat a 
 big island it is. In Colombo I 
 was much interested in the little 
 brown-faced, black-eyed children, 
 many of them beggars, and the 
 most persistent, irresistible beg- 
 gars I ever met. Whenever any 
 of them intercepted me in my 
 walks I was Avholly at their 
 mercy, for it was almost impos- 
 sible to say " no " to such winsome, tiny pleaders. 
 
 I remember especially one small maiden who told me her 
 name was Karo. Her tangled curly hair fell to her 
 shoulders, her black eyes sparkled, and her merry brown 
 
 (610) 
 
A MERRY LITTLE BEGGAR. 
 
 617 
 
 I beg- 
 any 
 my 
 their 
 ipos- 
 
 her 
 her 
 town 
 
 
 
 face made a most interesting picture. She wore a bright red 
 cloth, gracefully draped, and her brown arms and hands 
 were covered with bracelets, bangles, and rings. 
 
 She was among the first to greet us when we left the 
 steamer, and persistently followed us to our hotel, which 
 was only a few steps away, begging all the time. " Mama, 
 give my a penny, my so poor. ^^^j|§5^*^^l|^:fcj,, 
 Please, mama, just one penny. 
 I make you salaam, you just 
 give one penny, my very hun- 
 gry, my so poor, you got plen- 
 ty money, my so hungry," 
 Then she would draw doAvn 
 the corners of her mouth and 
 put on a })ensive look, and in 
 spite of herself would break 
 into a merry smile. She did 
 not appear to be suffering 
 from hunger, neither was she 
 very poor as one reckons pov- 
 erty in Ceylon, yet it was 
 almost impossible to resist her 
 importunities. She was quick 
 to see my helplessness and was 
 always lying in wait for me. 
 
 The little brown babies in Ceylon were attractive, too. 
 Almost every woman carried a baby sitting astride her hip, 
 while she threw one arm around it to keep it from falling, 
 and the little creatures looked around with as much interest 
 and wonder as any American baby wouhl show. 
 
 It was simply impossible to pass them by without speak- 
 ing to them, and at least patting their chubby hands. 
 Generally the little hand opened for a penny, for they learn 
 
 COIiOMUO CIllLUUEN. 
 
618 
 
 MEN IN GIRLISH ATTIRE. 
 
 to beg before they learn to walk. It is comparatively easy 
 to resist a larger beggar, but when a little hand is stretched 
 out for alms the temptation to give is very strong. 
 
 The people in Colombo are all interesting, because so 
 many different nationalities are represented — Hindus, Por- 
 tuguese, Malays, Singhalese, and many others, each one 
 seemingly more picturesque than the others. Many of the 
 
 men wore their hair long and 
 done up in a pug behind, while 
 others wore round combs on 
 the top of their heads, such as 
 little girls at home often wear 
 to keep their hair out of their 
 eyes. Imagine a tall, full- 
 bearded, imposing looking 
 man, brown faced and bare- 
 footed, dressed in a white jack- 
 et, Avitli a plaid skirt reaching 
 down to his knees, a round 
 comb on the top of his head, 
 and a generous pug behind. 
 This is a picture of all the 
 Avaiters at the hotel, and they 
 make the dining-room so pic- 
 turesque that there seems to 
 be no need of using other decorations. 
 
 Then there are men Avith long, black, curly hair parted 
 in the middle, and falling in ringlets on their shoulders, and 
 young men of eighteen or nineteen, who look so much like 
 girls that it is hard to tell whether they are men or women. 
 All wear ear-rings, and many of them wear bracelets, too. 
 One man was adorned with half a dozen silver bangles hang- 
 ing from each ear, just such bangles as young ladies in 
 
 A HAITY SIOTHEK. 
 
FIVE MILES IN A LITTLE BOAT. 
 
 019 
 
 America would wear for bracelets. The babies wear little 
 or no clothing, just a string of beads around the neck, and 
 sometimes a string around the waist, but plentifully decorated 
 with bangles and bracelets. 
 
 , The voyage from Colombo to Tuticorin is sliort, and it 
 hardly seemed worth while to un[)ack our goods and set up 
 housekee])ing again just for a single night. Everyone had 
 promised us a rough passage, but we were wonderfully 
 
 riTIKlL IJTTLK CUEATL'HKS. 
 
 favored and succeeded in getting across without seasickness 
 or tribulations of any kind. 
 
 It was a trial to me to have to anchor five miles from 
 land and go ashore in a small boat. Tlie water was rough, 
 but we all survived a thorough shaking up and rejoiced to 
 find ourselves safe on terra Jinna again. 
 
 What a difference all at once in the people and their cos- 
 tumes ! The ])rcttv babies, merry children, and curly-headed 
 men had vanished, and in their places were men, Avomen, and 
 
G20 
 
 FEEINO A llECilMENT. 
 
 children, with brown faces, to bo sure, l)ut neither good look, 
 iiig nor |)ictures(iue. The men were (b-essed in white clotli, 
 instead ol" bright red skirts, and tlie babies were most pitiful 
 little creatures. The women and girls were adorned with 
 chea[) brass finery, ear-rings, finger-rings, toe-rings, anklets^ 
 bracelets, n(!cklaces, and nose jewels, all in such abundance 
 that they reminded us of the old nursery rhyme, 
 
 " Itin^H on lier tlti^orH and bollH on lior toes, 
 And Hlie hIiuII have muuic wherever hIu; goes." 
 
 There were no English-sj)eaking |M!ople to be found, and 
 we were not well versed in Tamil ; l)ut by m(ians of gestures 
 and the use of vigorous Knglish, w(5 su(!ce(;ded in engaging 
 some of the natives to carry our luggage to the custom house, 
 and then to the station, and after a hasty tiMin and a ride 
 through the hot, dusty little town, Ave were glad to find our- 
 selves seated in the train for Madura. 
 
 Th(!n what a retinue of num gathenid around us begging 
 for remun(!ration for some real or fancied service which tlusy 
 had rendered us ! There W(!re the four men who had brought 
 our luggage to the station ; the man who gave us our tillln ; 
 the man who waited upon us at table ; the man Avho cooked 
 the food ; the men who stood hy and watch(;d us eat it ; the 
 ])unkah-wal!ah, who |)ulled tin; |)unkah for us; the man who 
 stood by our luggage while wo were gone to tiffin ; the nuin 
 Avho drove us around the town ; the men who lifted our lug- 
 gage from the ])latl'oi'in into the car; the man who picked 
 up ak(iy which had l)<;en dropped ; the num who stood and 
 looked on while he did it; to say nothing of all the men who 
 wanted to do som(!thing for us, and who also wished to bo 
 renH'inluM'ed. 
 
 Fortunat(;ly none of tluMii (expected a, large sum, and they 
 were paid olf and dismissed just as the train started on tho 
 long, slow journ(!y to Madura, 
 
A TKIP TO VELLOKE. 
 
 621 
 
 A visit to tli(^ girls' boiirdin^ scli n)l sit Vrllorc! uironlcd a 
 gliinj)S(! of ^irl iilV; in India at onc«^ inUirostin^ and instruct- 
 ive. W(! started from Madanapali at three o'clock in tho 
 mornin«^. TIkj boys of tlu; mission school W(!r<5 uj), even at 
 that early hour, to se(5 us olf, and, escorting us to the gate, 
 thoy sung us a farewell song as \v(; starte<l olF in the moon- 
 light for the sev(in-inile drive to the railroad station, where 
 we arrivcid just after sunris(\ 
 
 The cars of the South Indian railway are not the most 
 comfortable in the world, and after a long, hot, dusty ride, 
 we arrived at Vcillore at three o'cloijk in the afternoon. To 
 one who only looks at the map, the two little dots which 
 stand for Madanapali and Vellore look very near together, 
 but the journi^y takiw nearly twelve lujurs. 
 
 After ling(!i'ing around the station, wondering how wo 
 were going to lind our missionary friends, we were accosted 
 l)y a native, dr(!ss(!d in a white cloth and a white turban, 
 who held a piece of ])aper in his hand. lb; could not speak 
 a word of Knglish, nor we of Tamil, but as the j»aper bore a 
 familiar name we took it for granted that he had been sent, 
 an<l follow(!(l him to a carriage which stood near by with 
 seats for thrcie. 
 
 II«; indicat«!d to us by g<»stures tliat we wen; to g(!t in and 
 drive;, and although we had no idea which way to go wo 
 seated ourselv(!S in the carriage and drove olf, tlu! native 
 running on Ixshind or on ojk; side, occasionally going on in 
 front to clear the way. A\'U)v a dcilightful drive; through 
 th(; (H)()l, shady stre(;ts of Vellore, we (lr(;w uj) at last in 
 front of tin; mission bungalow, wh(;re a cordial W(;lcomo 
 await(!(l us. 
 
 Tin; (iir-Is' Boarding School numbers about one hun<Ir(;d 
 and lifty girls from fourt(;(;n to twenty years old. If the 
 mission schools of India liad done nothing else th(;y would 
 
C22 * BOARDING SCHOOL GIRLS. 
 
 be deserving of lil)cral support for having saved so many 
 girls from the evils of child marriage. But that is very 
 little compared with what the missionaries have done and 
 are doing for the girls and women of India. 
 
 Some of the older girls Avere getting ready to be married, 
 and were making their wedding skirts of bright yellow cloth 
 with large red figures. Others were busy with their books 
 or their sewing. 
 
 A run over the ])uilding, and a peep into the sleeping 
 rooms, dining-room, kitchen, and school-room followed. 
 
 All the girls sleep in one large room. Each bed consists 
 of a long, wide l)oard over which is laid a piece of straw 
 matting. The board is laid on the floor, the matting is 
 thrown over it and the bed is made. Each girl has also 
 a sheet and a blanket that she can use if the weather is cool. 
 A large brass dish, about the size and shape of a wash basin, 
 and a brass drinking cup, comprise all the dishes furnished 
 to each girl. Ilice, curry, and plantains constitute the usual 
 food. They are neat in their habits, and although they eat 
 with their fingers, they do so in the prettiest and daintiest 
 manner. As for clothing, all they really need is a cloth of 
 any bright color, which they know how to drape very grace- 
 fully. Many of them, however, do wear a skirt as Avell as a 
 cloth. 
 
 Toe rings and anklets seem to answer all the purpose of 
 shoes and stockings. 
 
 These girls receive a fair education, learn to sew and to 
 care for their homes and families, and best of all, most of 
 them return to their homes as Christian girls. 
 
 Going one day with a missionary friend in Calcutta to 
 visit some of her Zenana friends, I had a rare opportunity to 
 see life in a rich heathen home. The house was a large 
 three-story one with an open court in the center into which 
 
THE "bo" and her TREASURES. 
 
 688 
 
 lof 
 
 to 
 of 
 
 to 
 Ito 
 
 3h 
 
 rooms opened from jill sides of tlie building. A servant 
 answered our knock at the door, and in rc})ly to our 
 incpiirios told us that the "bo" would be glad to see us up 
 stairs. I Avondered why the " bo " did not come to meet us, 
 but soon discovered for myself that it would not have been 
 proper for anyone in her scant attire to come downstairs. 
 
 She met us at the top of the stairs and invited us into her 
 private a])artments on the third floor. She was pr<jud of 
 her parlor, which was furnished with three chairs, a mirror, 
 and a book-case with glass doors, in Avhich she kept her 
 special treasures and bi'ic-a-brac, consisting of little pewter 
 and cliina tea sets, toy match-safes, cheap vases and images ; 
 and on the top shelf, far out of reach of little lingers, was 
 an American dcjll which had been given as a prize for regu- 
 lar attendance and good behavior at the mission school. 
 The little owner of the doll looked at it wistfully, but she 
 was never allowed to touch it. " Do you ever play with 
 it?" I asked, through the interpreter who accompanied us. 
 " No, she only looked at it." When I asked if she had a 
 doll that she did ])lay with, she brought me such a poor con- 
 sumptive image of green and red clay that my heart was 
 moved with pity, not only for her but for the little brown 
 maidens all over India, who know so little of the delights of 
 childhood. 
 
 " "Would I like to see her jewelry ? " the mother asked me. 
 Of course I would. Whereupon, she brought forth her jewel 
 box, and spread before us such an array of gold and silver 
 and precious stones and strings of pearls rarely seen outside 
 of a jewelry store. There Avere rings, bracelets, anklets, 
 nose jewels, earrings, finger rings, and chains, most of them 
 of solid gold or silver. The heavy bracelets were of solid 
 gold, and so were the costly anklets and earrings which 
 looked as though they Avould be burdensome to Avear. 
 
624 ' ** MRS. GRUNDY " IN INDIA. 
 
 * 
 
 " Would I let her look at my jewelry ? " she asked. Cer- 
 tainly I would. I showed lier my watch and phiin gold 
 ring, remarking, that while her ornaments were very pretty, 
 I should think they would be troublesome to carry, adding, 
 that mine were all I cared to wear. 
 
 " Yes," she said reflectively, " Your way is the best and 
 my bracelets and anklets hurt me, and I do not like to wear 
 them very often, but must sometimes or people would not 
 know I had them." So I found that even in the Zenana 
 Mrs. Grundy holds swa\'. 
 
 Before we left the " bo " invited us into the " baboos " 
 apartments, which were on the second floor and were much 
 more elegant than his wife's. She also showed us her son's 
 room, and a poorer, smaller one where her little daughters 
 slept. Then escorting us to the top of the stairs, she bade us 
 good-bye, and we were left to find our w ay out alone. 
 
 So we left this poor " bo " to live her secluded life, the 
 monotony of which was broken only by combing her hair, 
 doing a little embroidery, gossipping with neighbors who 
 chanced to call, and looking at her jewelry. 
 
 We were in India in February, the popular month for 
 weddings, and almost every day we heard the sound of music 
 announcing a wedding procession, and often saw the youth- 
 ful bridegroom and his tiny bride. My heart was moved 
 with pity for these little brides. The little AvidoMS, too, 
 aroused my deepest sympathy. Just think of it, mothers at 
 home ! Think of a ten-year-old widow, doomed to a life of 
 misery and woe, because it is supposed to be her fault if her 
 husband dies. When I think how we cherish and guard our 
 own daughters at home, doing our best to keep sorrow and 
 trouble away from them, and then remember these poor 
 little children, my heart cries aloud for help to rescue the be- 
 nighted women and innocent children of India. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 , " 
 
 A WOMAN'S JOURNEY ACROSS TURKEY IN A WAGON — A 
 MEMORABLE NIGHT IN A TURKISH KHAN — TURKISH 
 VILLAGE LIFE - INTERESTING PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. 
 
 Learning by Experience — My Trnveling Companions — "Coming out 
 Strong " — Marli Tiiploy's Opinion of the Sea — Our First Experiences in 
 a Turkish Custom House — Searching for Concealed Boolts and Papers 
 — A Novel Cavalcade — In a Turkish Khan — A Memorable Night — 
 Rooming with Donkeys, Camels, and Horses — Our Wash Basin — 
 Over the Taurus Mountains — An American Spring Wagon in Asia 
 Minor — A Dismal Prospect — Filth and Dirt Everywhere — Sickening 
 Sights in Village Streets — Hobson's Choice — In a Native House — 
 Putting an Armenian Baby to Bed — A Cheerful Infant — A Peep into 
 Paradise — Dirty Turks — Eating out of the Same Dish with Them — 
 A Plague of Fleas — Some Pointed Questions. 
 
 for 
 lusic 
 ith- 
 Ived 
 Itoo, 
 Is at 
 of 
 I her 
 lour 
 ind 
 Joor 
 be- 
 
 T is hardly possible for women in 
 America, accustomed to journey- 
 ing in express trains and luxuri- 
 ous drawing-room cars, to under- 
 stand just what a journey of sev- 
 eral hundred miles across Turkey 
 in a wagon was to the one " lone, 
 lorn woman " who accomplished 
 it, and Avhose companions were 
 seven men ! How she counted up 
 the comforts and blessings of life 
 in the homeland, and how often 
 she resolved, that if she ever lived to see her native land 
 again she would never complain of any har(\ships or tribula- 
 tions which come to an ordinary housekeeper in America ! 
 
 How many lessons she learned of thankfulness for small 
 
 ( G25 ) 
 
62G 
 
 "jolly" experiences. 
 
 mercies ! How soon she learned, too, that it was possible to 
 live without a good many things that most people count 
 among the necessities of life. 
 
 The whole trip across Turkey from the landing at Mersin 
 to our departure from Constantinople, Avas what Mark Tap- 
 ley would have called " jolly." " I'm alwaj's a thinking," 
 said that cheerful philosopher, " that with my good health 
 and spirits it would be more creditable in me to be jolly 
 Avhere there's things a going on to make one dismal. It ma}"" 
 be a mistake of mine, you see, but nothing short of trying 
 hoAv it acts, will set it right. I don't believe there ever was 
 a man as could come out so strong under circumstances that 
 would make other men miserable as I could, if I could only 
 get a chance." 
 
 Some of our experiences on the Mediterranean Sea were 
 ver}'- like Mark Ta})ley's description of life at sea. 
 
 " The sea," he continues, " is as nonsensical a thing as 
 anvthino' "'oin"^. It never knows what to do with itself. It 
 hasn't got no employment for its mind, and is always in a 
 state of vacancy. Like them polar bears in the wild beast 
 shows, as is constantly nodding their heads from side to side, 
 it never can be quiet, which is entirely owing to its uncom- 
 mon stupidity," 
 
 '' Is that vou, ]\Iark 'i " asked a faint voice from another 
 berth. 
 
 •' Its as much of me as is left, sir, after a fortnight of 
 this work," Mr. Tapley replied. " What Avith leading the 
 life of a fly ever since I've been aboard (for I've been perpet- 
 ually holding on to something or other, in an upside down 
 position), Avhat Avith that, sir, and putting a A'ery little into 
 myself, and taking a good deal out in various Avays, there 
 ain't too much of me to swear by. It is creditable to keep 
 up one's spirits here. Virtue's its own reward. So's jollity." 
 
wa»|i p «»■<«»■ I 
 
 RUDE CUSTOM HOUSE OFFICIALS. 
 
 627 
 
 To at least one of the three pilgrims, the Mediterranean 
 Sea has left some jolly memories. The landing at Mersin 
 was " jolly " ; trying to walk down the steps from the steamer 
 into the little boat which takes passengers ashore, was not the 
 easiest thing in the world ; the tossing about on the rough 
 waves, and the landing at the steps, and the rough greeting 
 from the Turkish Custom House officials, all these things 
 were sufficiently "jolly". 
 
 No one who has not tried it can quite realize how trying 
 to a woman's soul Avas the treatment given to those trunks 
 in that Turkish Custom House. Unfortunately for the pil- 
 grims, one of the first discoveries made by the inspectors was 
 a book. Then, alas for the traveleiN^ and alas for the trunks ! 
 Such rummaging, such unrolling of bundles and opening of 
 boxes and packages, such searching for concealed books or 
 papers, until at last every book had been seized, and our 
 crumpled clothing and crushed bundles and packages were 
 tossed back into the trunks in one confused mass ! From the 
 first moment those rude inspectors opened our trunks until 
 our dismantled and disheveled belongings Avere thrown into 
 them again, one Avoraan lost all the res})ect she ever had for 
 the Turkish government. And that experience in the Cus- 
 tom House Avas only a sample of all the courtesy and kind- 
 ness, or the lack of it, that Avas shown to the travelers by 
 Turkish officials in all that memorable journey across the 
 country. 
 
 I think Ave all breathed a great sigh of relief Avhen at last 
 we shook the dust of Constantinople from our feet, and 
 sailed aAvay through the Dardanelles to Italy and the Ionian 
 shores. 
 
 The journey began at Tarsus, that ancient city Avliere 
 Paul Avas born. The Avagon, Avhich Avas a palatial affair for 
 Turkey, Avas very much like an emigrant's Avagon, a large, 
 
628 THE "emigrant train." 
 
 heavy, baggage wagon with a white canvas top. The pro- 
 cession started off in great style, first the Turkish " Zabtieh " 
 " saddled, bridled, and fit for the fight," as the nursery 
 rhyme has it, then the white-covered wagon which carried 
 the three pilgrims and their missionary friend who was also 
 guide, conductor, and driver, with bedding and food enough 
 to last the four for a week; and last, the clumsy native 
 wagon which carried the trunks, two Turks for drivers, and 
 Ali, our Turkish servant and trusty helper. 
 
 The jouncing and jolting and the thousand and one dis- 
 comforts, big and little, soon began to make themselves felt, 
 and we realized that we had a chance " to come out strong." 
 
 Twenty or twenty -five miles a day would not seem to 
 the American mind to be much of a journey, but it made up 
 in quality what it lacked in quantity. When at noon the 
 wagon drew up before a Turkish khan, it was a great sur- 
 prise, to one of the wayfarers at least, to be invited to alight 
 and go inside to eat dinner. 
 
 What ! go into such a place as that, eat dinner there, rest 
 there ! Never, so long as she had the spirit of a woman 
 would she so demean herself ! "■ Come one, come all, this 
 rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as I," was the feel- 
 ing in her heart as she meekly answered, " Would it not be 
 pleasanter to sit right here in the wagon and eat our lunch 
 in the open air ? " 
 
 Her suggestion was accepted and the first dinner was a 
 pleasant picnic lunch. But when twilight came and the 
 wagon drew up before another khan even more unattractive 
 in its appearance than the first, and a dismount was 
 inevitable, the one forlorn woman in the party felt like a 
 veritable " Mrs. Gummidge " when she found it was really 
 expected, not only that she would go into such a place, but 
 that she would eat her supper and sleep there. 
 
A NIGHT IN A TURKISH KHAN. 
 
 G39 
 
 ras a 
 
 the 
 
 }tive 
 
 was 
 
 Ike a 
 
 but 
 
 However, there was no help for it, and she meekly 
 accepted the situation, and gathering her skirts about her, 
 she tiptoed her way through the dirty stable-yard into a 
 little low, dark room opening out of it, and tried to be 
 
 "jolly". 
 
 Who shall describe that first night in a Turkish khan ! 
 It is impossible for any American woman to appreciate the 
 situation. 
 
 Imagine a little, low stone building mostly under ground, 
 with a square courtyard in the middle, out of which three 
 rooms open. One of these rooms was assigned to the pil- 
 grims, one to the Turkish drivers and a few otlier Turks, and 
 the third to the donkeys and camels and horses. 
 
 Can you imagine Avhat the best room in the khan is 
 like ? The carpet is of a dark brown color and is what is 
 commonly known as dirt. If our visit had happened to be 
 in rainy weather it Avould have been mud. 
 
 There was one small mercy to be thankful for, it did not 
 rain. Along each side of the room, about two feet from the 
 floor, were wooden platforms about four feet wide with just 
 room enough to walk between them. On one of these plat- 
 forms we set up a narrow cot bed, and arranged our 
 trunks, boxes, and food ; for all our valuables nmst be 
 kept in the same room with us or they Avould probably 
 be stolen. On the other platform were two other tipsy 
 cot beds which also served for sofas and tables. 
 
 The walls of the room were of rough stone and mortar, 
 frescoed with smoke. The ceiling was of rough rafters also 
 frescoed Avith smoke. The chandelier was a tallow candle. 
 This room was to be not oaly sleeping-room, but sitting-room 
 and dining-room and parlor for all of us ! The other occu- 
 pants of the room were fleas and other objectionable room- 
 mates. This room was a fair sample of the quarters in 
 
'I-O THE WEARIEST WOMAN IN TURKEY. 
 
 wliich we ate, and sle])t every night during the wliole 
 journey across Asia :Minor. There was abundant ojipor- 
 tunity '' to come out stronir ". 
 
 In the morning there was sometimes a mountain stream 
 to wash in, and that was a great luxury. Oftener there M'as 
 a tin or brass vessel, something like a teapot, from which a 
 little Avater could be poured on our hands and an unsatis- 
 factory ajwlogy for a bath could be obtained. 
 
 Nevertlieless, the journey over the Taurus mountains 
 was delightful and interesting, and the scenery was gi'and 
 enough to make up for all the weariness, discomfort, and 
 annoyance. All that any wagon could do, that wagon did ; 
 but there are limits to the possibilities of even an American 
 spring wagon in Asia Minor, and Avhen the road was 
 absolutely impassable, as was fre(juently the case, Ave Avere 
 obliged to Avalk. Anyone Avho could have looked across the 
 lands and seas at the close of the last day of that Avagon 
 journey Avould haA^e seen one of the most forlorn-lookino- 
 Avomen m Turkey. ^ 
 
 After traveling for days across a barren, treeless plain, 
 Ave at last saAv indications of approaching civilization, and it 
 Avas evident that Ave Avere drawing near to the land of 
 railways. The villages became more frequent and life more 
 interesting. We had been riding all day from six o'clock in 
 the morning till six o'clock at niglit, stoi)ping at noon at a 
 little Koordish village for lunch, Avhich Ave had eaten in the 
 Avagon. Our lunch consisted of bread — Avhich Avas rather 
 dry, after having been carried in the Avagon for six days — 
 some native butter, Avhich, at its best Avas never invitino-, 
 boiled eggs, cold meat, and doughnuts, all of Avhich Avere 
 stale enough after their long journey. It AA'as cold in the 
 Avagon, but it Avas so much cleaner than any other place 
 in the neighborhood that it seemed desirable to stav there. 
 
AX UNATTRACTIVE OUTLOOK. 
 
 631 
 
 ipliiin, 
 
 md it 
 
 ikI of 
 
 more 
 
 (ck ill 
 
 I at a 
 n the 
 [ather 
 
 ys 
 
 liting, 
 were 
 
 II the 
 [place 
 
 ire. 
 
 All, our trusty servant, succeeded in tindinj^ a fire some- 
 where, sufficient to brew some tea, which made the r<'[)ast a 
 trifle more cheerful, for the tea at k'ast was hot. The 
 village was one of the poorest and dirtiest on tin; route. 
 From my seat in the wagon were to t)e seen. l)y aetual 
 count, thirteen dead sheep, a dead camel, a dead dog, and a 
 dead <lonkey, all lying in the villagi? streets, left there for 
 nature to take care of. Some of them had evidently heen 
 dea<l a g(^od many days. Not a pleasant outlook, to he sure, 
 nor one that contributed to the enjoyment of our frugal 
 meal. 
 
 It hardly seems possible that people could really live 
 amid such surroundings. And yet the little, tlirty, ragged 
 chiUlren trotted about the streets, })icking their way past 
 dead aninuils and live dogs with ecjual indifference, and 
 apparently as happy as any other children anywhere, and 
 looking hale and hearty, too, in spite of the filth and dirt. 
 
 We often found compensation for all the jolting over 
 rough roads in the great beautv of the scenerv, after leaving 
 the barren plain and getting into the hilly region again, 
 "With a north wind blowing in our faces all dav we found 
 ourselves so cold, as the night drew near, that we were glad 
 enough when at last we reached the little village wluM'e we 
 were to spend the night, knowing full well wiiat kind of 
 quarters we should {)robably find. 
 
 Did it ever happen to you, my sister, to take a long, cold, 
 wearisome journey, and then to find when you reached home 
 at night, a warm, pleasant room, with a bright, cheery open 
 fire, and a good hot sujiper waiting for yt>u '. Did you not 
 forget all the weariness of the journey in the j)leasant home- 
 coming^ Visions of that sort entranced us occasionally as 
 we journeyed, but alas, they were only visions. What we 
 
 usuallv found at the en<l of the day's journey was the same 
 3« 
 
632 A NIGHT IN A STABLE. 
 
 little dirty Turkish village of low stone buildings, occupied 
 by surly Turks. I remember one night, (sj)eciully, when the 
 owners of the miserable house were so cross that they either 
 could not or would not find the key to the only guest 
 chamber in the village. Thev were tired and hunffrv, for it 
 was the month of " Ramazan ", — they had been keeping fast 
 all day — and they did not feel amiable enough to do any- 
 thing for those "Giaours". 
 
 At last, however, after [)atient waiting, the key was found 
 and the door unlocked. Passing tiirough the stable, wliich 
 was worse than any American stable could ])ossibly be, then 
 up a flight of dirty stone steps, we were ushered into a little 
 room directly over the stable. Leaving me to my own 
 meditations, the men hurried out to unpack the wagon. 1 
 looked around for the cleanest place in the I'oom, l)Ut there 
 wasn't any. There was no })lace to sit down, so I stood uj), 
 ghid that it was so dark tliat I couldn't see how dirty it was. 
 How I longed for my own cellar at home, or my neighbor's 
 barn chamber I 1 even felt a sym])athy for the prodigal son 
 wlien lie envied his father's servants. Fortunately there was 
 not much time for the dolefuls, for soon the tramping of feet 
 on the stairs i)roclaime(l the arrival of the bed and trunks 
 and ])i'ovisions. It seemed to be aljsolutely necessary either 
 to hiuirii or ci-y. and with a " Ilerculaneum effort ." as ^Irs. 
 Partington would have said. I decided to laugii. The cot 
 beds were soon set up. ami one of them served foi' a table 
 and the other lor a lounge. The one small candle gave a 
 feeble light, reminding one of those lines of ^lilton's, 
 
 " Xo liirht but rather darkness visible 
 Served only to discover scenes of woe." 
 
 The canvas-covered, rickety cot bed made a table that 
 was never to be de])ended upon, and neither was it so 
 attractive as some: l)ut when it Avas covered Avith a table- 
 
IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN WORSE. 
 
 633 
 
 liat 
 
 so 
 
 cloth it answered the i)iirpose very well, tiiid luirnionized 
 with the surroundings. Ali succeeded in getting some hot 
 water, and made something whieli he averred was cocoa, and 
 though we had neitlier milk nor sugar to go with it, we 
 suj)i)ed and ate our dry bread and stale butter, and tried to 
 be thankful that things were no worse. 
 
 When the door of the room was shut it kept out some of 
 the odors of the stable. There were three tiny little win- 
 dows in the room, each about eight or nine inches scjuare 
 and completely covered with ])aj)or tiglitly pa.sted on. 
 After l>earing it as long as we could, we broke some of these 
 paper panes for the sake of fresh air, though the outside air 
 was not much better than that on the inside. 
 
 Perhai)s mv readers mav wonder whv we were willinjr 
 to sleep in such a place, but such W(^n<lering is easily an- 
 wered. In the first j)lace it must be said that we did not 
 alcrjf much, we only stayed there, and in the second ))lace it 
 was only *• II()l)s(;n's choice'"— it was that or nothing. 
 That was the l)est I'ooni in the villaire, and the next village 
 was twenty utiles away. 
 
 We were thankful when the night was over and were 
 perfectly willing to rise early in the morning and go on our 
 way. The experience of each day and nigiit'was very 
 much alike. We enjoyed the interesting glimj»ses of home 
 life U) be seen nowhere else than on such a journey as this, 
 and (jne or two days spent with native Armenian families 
 added . 'iety to the experiences. We were cordially wel- 
 comed in these native Christian homes and were treated 
 with great hospitality, and although Armenian ways are not 
 American wavs, and some of their customs were not easv to 
 adopt, yet we retain only pleasant memories of those visits 
 with our Armenian friends. 
 
 It was an interesting sight to see a tiny Armenian baby 
 
e84 
 
 IN ARMENIAN HOMES. 
 
 put to 1)('<1 in on(> ol' tlicse hf)nies. A little l)lanket was first 
 kid in the cradle, then a small sheet, then some warm, dry 
 sand, and last the bahy. The sheet, blanket, and two or 
 three little ijuilts were then drawn around him, and the 
 bal)y was securely tied (Unvn, blankets and (juilts and all, 
 and there he must lie till morning, with no power to move 
 anything except his head. The little one usually accepted 
 the situation cheerfully and sul)mitted with good c-race. 
 
 The Avomen in these Christian families were treated 
 kindly by their husbands, but their position was an inferior 
 one. They waited upon their husbands and their guests 
 at the talde, and then took their own meals by themselves 
 afterwards. They appeared hajjpy anil contented, but to an 
 Amei'ican woman their lives seemed ha-d and narrow. 
 
 But what a joyful company we were when the first part 
 of the journey was over, and we arrived at the homes of 
 missionary friends in Caesarea and Talas. It was like a peep 
 into i)aradise to come into a clean Christian home. 
 
 How we ap])reciated the common, every -day mercies that 
 we had so often forgotten before. Did you ever count up 
 your mercies, good housekeepers at home i Do you know 
 how good it is to live in a house and sleep in a bed ? Are 
 you sufficiently thankful for clean dishes, or for the privi- 
 lege of nuiking them cleans Are you grateful for cold 
 watei- and a clean glass to drink it out of^ Did you ever 
 think how pleasant it is to have a ])late all to yourself to eat 
 breakfast from, instead of having one dish set in the center 
 of the table for all the family to dip their spoons into? Are 
 you thankful enough for the good bread that you eat every 
 dav i Do vou ever thank the Lord that you have not a 
 house full of fleas? Are vou thankful that vour neiirhbor 
 has clean hantls so that you can shake them without a 
 shiver i 
 
DISCOMFORTS OF THE MISSKJNARIES. 
 
 G35 
 
 If my experiences on tliis overland journey thi'oiiol, 
 Turkey serve to make any one more tliankful for the hless- 
 in-s of liome, or to make any of ns iW\ i,„,ro synipathv for 
 our missionary friends wJio have to enchire manv more dis- 
 comfoi-ts than have been liinted at heiv, and who endure 
 them cheerfully and ghuUy f,,,- the sake of tiie u-ork, then 
 the purjiose for which this brief record has been written will 
 have been accomplished. 
 
niAPTKR V. 
 
 (iOOD-IJYE. 
 'GOD BE WITH YOU TU.L WE MEET AGAIN." 
 
 The Dcparturo from 8iin Francisco — Tim Crowded Wharf — "All Ashore 
 tliat's Going Ashore"- The Song of Farewell — Tiie Captain's Encoiir- 
 agcniciit — <}()od Cheer for All — A Never-tohe forgotten Song— In 
 Moreton Hay — On Hoard the ('fiui;/t>t — Our Friends on the Launch — 
 Chattering Chinese — A Voice from the Tarshmr — An L'nappreciativo 
 Listener — Another Precious Memory — At a Railway Station in Oka- 
 yama — Japanese^ Courtesy — The Train Waits for the Song — In a 
 Chinese Schoolroom — The Lively Little Junior — The Dear Old Hymn 
 in Chinese — In a Little Hill Town of India — Departure in the Early 
 Morning — Surroimded by (Hiosts — " (Jod He With You" in Hindu 
 Dialect — A Hrown fa<ed I5oy Choir — Sweet, Lingering Echoes — A 
 , Blessed Memorv of Friends in Distant Lauds. 
 
 fllE f^ood steamship Mar'^pma is 
 just ready to sail from San Fran- 
 cisco for Sydney. Tlie last 
 warning has been given — " All 
 ashore that's going ashore" — 
 and the Avharf is crowded with 
 people who are Availing to wave 
 a last e:ood-l)ve to friends on 
 board. The last whistle sounds 
 and the steamer is off. But as 
 she starts, some earnest Christ- 
 ian Endeavorers on the shore lift 
 
 U)) their voices, and the sweet strains of *' God be with you 
 
 till we meet again," float on the air. 
 
 The passengers are walking up and down the deck talking 
 
 busily together, but thev pause a minute as they hear the 
 
 ("g3G ) 
 
BEfilNXINY! THE LONG JOrRNEY 
 
 G37 
 
 lave 
 on 
 
 nds 
 as 
 
 ■ist- 
 lift 
 rou 
 
 mg 
 
 lie 
 
 sweet sounds. Tlie captain is full of serious thoughts of the 
 long voyage bef(jre iiiin, and of the great res|)onsil)ility tiiat 
 rests upon him, and there is a luni]) in his throat, so he tells 
 us afterwards, as he stops to listen to the words: 
 
 " Wlion lifc'.-t perils thick ronfoiiiid you, 
 Put His luvini.f arms around you." 
 
 and the '*Ciod be with you" will linger in his mind for many 
 a day as he sails over the lonely seas. 
 
 The sailors who are hoisting the Stars and Stripes, pause 
 a minute as they catch the sound of 
 
 •■ Keep love's biinnor floating o'er you," 
 
 and the timid passenger who feared the dangers of the long 
 voyage was cheered as she heard the reassuring words. 
 
 Fainter and fainter grow the sounds, but thi-ee pilgi'ims 
 still linger, looking: lon":in<;lv towards the shore to catch the 
 very last strains. They are starting <m a long, long journey, 
 and their hearts are sore at the thought of all they are leav- 
 ing behind them, and of the long year that must intervene 
 before their return. As the last faint 
 
 " God be witii you till we meet again " 
 
 dies away upon the air, their hearts are cheered and com- 
 forted, as they go on their way. 
 
 Perhaps those Christian Endeavorcrs will never know 
 just how many were helped and strengthened by their song 
 that hot August day, but those Avho were helped will not 
 soon forget the song or the singers. 
 
 IX AUSTRALIA. 
 Once more the scene is on shipboard, but this time the 
 crew and many of the passengers are Chinese. The steamer 
 C/iingtx, which has l)een anchored for a few hours in More- 
 ton Bay. is just starting on a three-weeks voyage from Aus- 
 tralia to China. Near by is a little steam launch which has 
 
r,38 
 
 THE I'AKTIN(i S()N(;. 
 
 come IVoiii I'risliaiU', t<» \)v\n}x souio ))assong'ors ; and a com- 
 pany of oiii- frit'iids, wli(» have conic so far with us, ai'c wait- 
 ing' I'oi- a last good-hy*'. 
 
 The captain stands on the deck talkinn- witli one of the 
 passengers. The crew are liusy in' their several |»laces, and 
 the Chinese passengers on the forward deck are iahhei-in"- 
 fast and loud. Three i)ilgrinis (»n the upper deck are leanirK-- 
 over the i-ail for a last lo(»k at kind friends whom thev arc 
 leaving, and, just as the steaujer starts, a voice from the T</,'- 
 */*^///' strikes up the tune "(Jod he with you till we meet 
 
 agani. 
 
 A gentleman wiio is stan<ling near, turns to the caj)tain 
 and remarks: '' Vou never iiad sucii a send-olf as this before, 
 did you i "' " No," says the cai)tuin, grullly, '• and 1 don't 
 want to again," and they both turn away and walk to the 
 other side of the deck, but, as he turns, the cai)tain cannot 
 help hearing the sweet " God be with you," and it may be 
 that the words still linger in his memory to help him in s(mie 
 future hour, though ho cares not for them now. 
 
 The few lirst-class i)assengers seem indifferent, aiul the 
 Chinamen on the lowei* deck cannot understand the song; 
 but to the three pilgrims, who are still looking lovino-ly 
 across the water as the TarHham sails away, the words have 
 another precious memory associated with them, and they lis- 
 ten eagerly till the very last note dies away in the distance. 
 
 IN JAPAN. 
 
 This time the scene is in a railway station in Okayama. 
 We have taken our seats in the train, and while we rejoice to 
 be facing homewards, yet our joy is tinged with sadness as 
 we say a last good-bye to dear missionary friends and Jap- 
 anese friends alike. 
 
 We wonder when or where we shall meet again these 
 
THE SONG IN JAFAX AND CHINA. 
 
 C.'JI) 
 
 friends who are so dear to us, when suddenly, the sweet 
 notes of " (iod l)e with you till we meet a<i:ain," ring out on 
 the air. .Ia|>an«'se voices and Aniei'ican V(»ices taki; up the 
 strain, and tiie Japanese railway "j^uards st(tp to liste'ii. It is 
 past the hour for the ti-ain to start, but -Japanese politeness 
 will not interrupt the sweet yood-ln'e, and even the "Impe- 
 rial Japanese Railway'' waits for that song. 
 
 As the last *' (iod he with you " dies away, the train starts 
 on its journey, while tlie three pilyi'ims go on their way 
 witii a song in their hearts. 
 
 IN CHINA. 
 
 Tma«;ine a larm? schoolroom not very unlike an old- 
 fashioned New P^ngland schoolroom. The desks are not of 
 the latest style, and the room is not very elegant, but it has 
 been prettily decorated. On the walls hang bright-colored 
 scrolls, with Chinese characters inscribed on them, express- 
 ing cordial greetings. In the back of the room are ])retty 
 floral decorations, also in Chinese characters, giving a Chinese 
 welcome. The rows of benches are filled with bright-eyed 
 bovs and vountj men, dressed in Chinese costume, and with 
 their hmg queues hanging down their backs. 
 
 In the back of the room are a few Chinese women, and 
 one little Chines ' baby, who has come to this Christian En- 
 deavor meeting, })r<jbably to represent Junior Endeavor. 
 The meeting is a very interesting one though it is all in 
 Chinese, and the little junior adds to the interest by creeping 
 down the aisle and expressing his applause by patting on the 
 platform with his baby hands. 
 
 Just before the close of the meeting, some slips of red 
 pa^jer on which are inscribed some Chinese charar;ters, are 
 passed around among the audience. A twelve-year-old 
 Chinaman takes his place at the cabinet organ, and the audi- 
 ence all rise and begin to sing. The complicated Chinese 
 
640 
 
 OUR GOD-SPEED FROM INDIA. 
 
 cluinictc'i's on the red paper mv unreadable, and the unpro- 
 nounceable words have no meaning to American ears, but 
 there was no mistaking' the tune. Once more the three pil- 
 grims listened t(^ the beautiful '* God be with vou," and 
 though they could not join in singing the Chinese words, yet 
 tlu'v understood the tune and in the s))irit could join in the 
 song. Then in Chinese and English, the j)rayer arose, 
 
 " By His (iiunsi'l's guiilo. uplioid you, 
 Witli His sheep securely fold you. 
 Gi>d be with you till we meet agaiu." 
 
 May that prayer be answered, and may all who sung it 
 that dav in that great heathen citv be readv alwavs to fol- 
 low the teachings of the '' Good Shej)herd,'' and be led by 
 Ilim in the ])aths of righteousness I 
 
 IN INDIA. 
 
 It was early morning in tlie little hill town of Madana- 
 ])ali, so eai'ly that even the iirst rays of the sun could not 
 yet be .seen, and the moon ^"ms still shining bi'iglitly in the 
 heavens, h is three o'clock ... the morning, and the three 
 pilgi'ims are just starting on tlieii' homewai'd journey. The 
 laro'c old-fashioned missionarv wau'on. di'awn bv diminutive 
 white (jxen, stands at the dooi', for they are seven miles from 
 the nearest I'ailway station. 
 
 As tliev ciiiul) uj> ' it<» tin' liigh wagon, and start on their 
 loiiii' di'ive, tliev take one last look around them. How ciuiet 
 and peaceful it all looks! There is the mission Inmgalow 
 and the long, low school building, and the little church on 
 the other side t)f the com])ound. Suddenly, some ghostly 
 fio-ures rise before them in the moonlight and surround the 
 watron. l^efore thev have time to be alarmed, tliev recog- 
 nize the ghosts, for these are the boys from the mission 
 school. Drai>ed in their white clothes, some with white tur- 
 
GOD BE WITH vol' TILL WE MEET AGAIN. 
 
 t;4i 
 
 bans and some with brown caps on tlieii- lieads. tlicv li vo 
 come out at this early h(jur for a hist gcxxbhyc 
 
 iVs the little white oxen start, the bovs i-iin alonf^ bv the 
 side of the wa<;on. sinfjinfjf their farewell : 
 
 "God be witli yoti till we meet again. 
 "When life's peiii.s tlii(k confound you, 
 Put His loving arms around you, 
 God he with you till we meet iigiiin." 
 
 This time the song- is sun«^ in the Telugu tongue. l)ut it 
 sounds sweetly in the ears of the ])ilgrims as they i-ide away 
 over the hills, and they will not soon forget the bright, 
 brown-faced Indian bovs who sun<; it. 
 
 Many more memory ])ictures might be given if time 
 and sj)ace allowed. To these three pilgrhns the song. "God 
 be with you till we meet again." will always bring u)) many 
 <lelif?htful memories of tln.'ir iourneviu'i's in otiiei' lands. 
 
 
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