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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
Travels in 
 The Old World 
 
 Illustrated. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. J. M. ROWLAND 
 
 Editor Richmond Christian Advocate, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Author of: 
 'Blue Ridge Breezes" and "A Pilgrimage to Palestine. 
 
 APPEALS PRESS. INC. 
 Richmond, Va. 
 
 1922 
 
 -art 
 
I Copyright 1922 
 by 
 
 J. M. Rowland, 
 Richmond, Va. 
 
The Author. 
 
"3D5V: 
 
 M 
 
 Dedication 
 
 To my wife who followed my journey 
 
 with her prayers and met me 
 
 when my ship sailed in 
 
 and 
 
 to the party of genial sunny souls 
 
 who helped me all they could to 
 
 make the Pilgrimage of 1921 
 
 all that heart could wish 
 
 These pages 
 are tenderly inscribed. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 When my first book was printed, I did not dream 
 by this time six thousand would be sold. Little 
 advertising has been done. The folks who read 
 them, have sold them. I have yielded to the many 
 calls to issue another book on Travels in The Old 
 World, and I send it forth with a tender wish that 
 it may receive as warm a welcome in the world as 
 the others have. To my old friends known and 
 unknown who have read my pages and sent me 
 greetings, I herewith return the best greetings of 
 my heart. 
 
 Part of the first book, the historic facts ap- 
 pear in this book but the most of it is rewritten. 
 It makes no claim to stateliness and dignity and 
 none to scholarship and literature. It will shock 
 some. It goes the Pilgrim Path with a smile and 
 a hop, but with bared head and bowed heart it 
 approaches softly Holy Shrines and Truths. It is 
 written in the writer's own way. If he writes at 
 all, he must write that way. It goes forth with a 
 prayer that it may cheer and help and make people 
 more interested in the Pilgrim Path. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Travelers Rest, 
 3812 Hawthorne, 
 Richmond, Va. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 By Dr. G. T. Rowe, 
 Book Editor of the M. E. Church, South. 
 
 Let me say right at the beginning that the reader 
 who takes this book in hand has a delightful treat 
 in store. The next best thing to taking a trip 
 abroad is following the meanderings of a man who 
 knows how to travel with his eyes open and to des- 
 cribe the things the reader would have noticed, if 
 he had been along. As I have read some books of 
 travel I have wondered why the writer left his 
 comfortable home, when all of his material could 
 have been gotten from Baedeker and the Encyclo- 
 paedia Britannica, and have not been surprised to 
 learn that such productions are not in general de- 
 mand. It takes more than a succession of facts to 
 make a book of travel interesting. The writer must 
 have sympathy and humor and imagination. These 
 the reader will find in Mark Twain and J. M. Row- 
 land. I do not hesitate to couple these two illustri- 
 ous names together. The broad humor of exagger- 
 tion of the former enlivens the account of the pur- 
 chase of a pair of gloves in Paris or the description 
 of the appetite of a camel in the Holy land, while 
 the sly touches of the latter relieve the soberness 
 of the narrative at every turn. 
 
 The value of a book of this kind depends as much 
 upon the kind of man that does the traveling as 
 upon the extent and duration of the journey. The 
 Author of Travels in the Old World acknowledges 
 that he is described in his passport as "red-headed," 
 and while that color of hair was not supposed until 
 
 zrz*T>^ WOO/I 
 
recent years to enhance the pulchritude of either 
 man or woman, it has always been taken as an 
 indication of alertness of mind. Everybody knows 
 that red-headed people are unusually bright. More- 
 over, everybody loves a red-headed man, because his 
 heart goes out to everybody. J. M. Rowland took 
 to Europe and the Near East a genial soul, enriched 
 by divine grace, and his candid manner was a pass- 
 port to the hearts of the people everywhere. Hence 
 the book abounds with human interest. One glance 
 convinced the most suspicious officer that he was not 
 a spy, or a fomenter of revolution, and even the 
 custom houses took his word for what was in his 
 baggage. Having steeped his mind for years in 
 the history of the lands that he had long hoped to 
 visit, he was prepared to appreciate the significance 
 of sights and scenes, and to adorn his narrative with 
 historic allusion and incident. Consequently, the 
 reader will find, as he goes along, that he is being 
 instructed, as well as entertained. 
 
 Travels in the Old World will advertise itself. No 
 one will be able to read it without quoting from 
 it and relating incidents recorded in it, and the 
 reader of each copy of the book will create a demand 
 for others. My excuse for complying with the 
 author's request for a word of introduction lies in 
 the fact that I was a member of the company on 
 the return end of the European part of the journey, 
 and I am rather proud to have my name carried 
 far and wide by the nimble pen of so ready a writer. 
 The other members of that congenial group will be 
 glad to be assured that, although the author threat- 
 ens to write of their pranks and foibles without 
 fear or favor, he really does exercise a judicious 
 
reserve, which prevents any one of them from suf- 
 fering in the eyes of his fellow-countrymen. And 
 yet, if he had told all, it would not have been so 
 bad, for while that party followed to some extent the 
 old adage, ''when in Rome do as the Romans do," 
 they did not do all that the Romans do or the 
 Parisians either. And while all of them heartily 
 despised each other in turn, as travelers are wont 
 to do, every one would desire to take a second trip 
 with the very same crowd, and have as their leader 
 the same red-headed and red-blooded American, 
 who did not hesitate upon occasion to show his con- 
 tempt for a head waiter or to stand up for his 
 rights in the face of the whole French army. 
 
 GILBERT T. ROWE. 
 Nashville, Tenn. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter. Page. 
 
 I. Getting a Passport 15 
 
 II. The Effects of Travel 21 
 
 III. Outward Bound 27 
 
 IV. Through Austria-Hungary and the Balkan States 39 
 V. Among the Turks 45 
 
 VI. The Moral and Religious Conditions of Turkey. . 56 
 
 VII. Some Incidents of the Second Tour 65 
 
 VIII. Snapshots on the Seas We get Sea-Sick 72 
 
 IX. Some Other Incidents My Lost Cheese 85 
 
 X. Hitting the High Places 97 
 
 XI. A Visit to Smyrna 116 
 
 XII. On Mars' Hill 129 
 
 XIII. Over the Seas to Egypt 137 
 
 XIV. In the Land of ths Pharaohs 144 
 
 XV. Climbing the Great Pyramid 164 
 
 X\I. Among the Traders and Beggars of the East. . . . 186 
 
 XVII. In Sunny Italy 196 
 
 XVIII. On the Shores of Canaan 232 
 
 XIX. Religious and Social Conditions of Palestine 248 
 
 XX. Motoring Over Holy Hills 260 
 
 XXI. Story of the Lost Bible 271 
 
 XXII. Dining in Galilee 278 
 
 XXIII. In Jerusalem 287 
 
 XXIV. About the Walls of Zion 308 
 
 XXV. On ths Site of the Temple 324 
 
 XXVI. In the Garden of 334 
 
 XXVII. Bethlehem and Hebron 342 
 
 XXVIII. Jericho, the Jordan and the Dead Sea 359 
 
 XXIX. Over the Hills to Nazareth 370 
 
 XXX. On Lake Galilee 390 
 
 XXXI. Damascus and the Lebanon Mountain 405 
 
 XXXII. Coming Home Through Clouds of War 415 
 
 Letters 433 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 
 Have you ever had Travel fever? Did you feel 
 the germ creeping in your blood and wings beating 
 against your heart doors as you longed to fly up 
 and out and on? Did you ever hear the call of the 
 sun as He flamed the East with morning glory, 
 chasing out the dark and as He threw his good- 
 night kiss back at you as He dipped his red char- 
 iot in the distant blue? Has the long white wind- 
 ing road held out beckoning hands and pled with 
 you to go on and on to find its end? Is the clank 
 of the train wheels on the jointed rails sweet music 
 to your soul as the fields and woods rush by? Has 
 fthe rainbow begged you to go on to the place 
 where its radiance kissed the ground in search of 
 the pot of Gold? Or has the moaning tides coring 
 in at your feet sung songs of lands afar where voices 
 were strange and dress and manners weired and 
 varied? And has the sails of boats called you to 
 come on to ports beyond where your feet would 
 walk strange paths, your ears hear strange sounds 
 and your eyes see strange sights? Have you felt 
 the urge in your soul to go to ancient shrines and 
 historic places where the race was rocked in its 
 cradle, and you could dig in ashes of buried em- 
 pires and see relics of dead dynasties and remnants 
 of ancient glory and forgotten lore? And have you 
 longed to put your feet in the foot prints of the 
 great priests and prophets of the past and come at 
 last walking softly to the spot where the Son of 
 Man and God was born, lived and died and lived 
 again the blessed life? 
 Then come on 
 
A FOREWORD. 
 
 (To the first book). 
 
 There is no reason why this book should be writ- 
 ten. Perhaps my friends should have secured a re- 
 straining order from the courts to prevent my at- 
 tempt at a forcible entrance into the Literary World, 
 but they did not, and the book is from the press. 
 A book without a demand ! It is true three friends 
 have said they would buy it, but that was before 
 they saw it. 
 
 I read the other day the Introduction to a Book 
 of Travels by a lady. She said her reason for print- 
 ing the book was self-defense. She had given the 
 travels to the papers in a series of articles. The 
 people had urged her to put it in book form, bu\ 
 she declined. Then the people were in the act of 
 committing bold trespass and printing her writings* 
 whether or no. So to keep the people from forcibly 
 publishing it in undesirable form, she had, after 
 long and careful contemplation, decided to publish 
 +h^ book herself; not because she wanted to, bu* 
 oecause she was forced to. 
 
 When I read this, I waited patiently for develop- 
 ments. I had given a number of articles on my 
 travels to the papers, and I had lectured in a num- 
 ber of places. So I waited for a deputation of 
 aroused and enthused citizens to come in great zeal 
 and determination, demanding that I write a book: 
 but they have not come. A number of publishers 
 and book men have been to see me, but they did not 
 
12 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 come with a pistol in their hand to force me to pub- 
 lish a book. They all seemed to have more books 
 than they could manage already. Their offer usu- 
 ally sounded something like selling me "Kilpatrick's 
 Universal Encyclopedia and Compendium of Science 
 and Literature," illustrated, with index, and cover- 
 ing every phase and form of life from how to raise 
 babies to how to become President of the United 
 States (neither of which the agent could do). This 
 wonderful set, which was endorsed by Dr. C. W. 
 Elliott and W. H. Taft, they would sell me for five 
 dollars a month for nine hundred and ninety-nine 
 months (my main reason for not buying things this 
 way is it makes time fly so fast) and throw in a 
 lot in San Diego, California, and a new war atlas. 
 
 They came with such offers as these, but never to 
 try to make me write a book. And I never dreamed 
 I would write a book of my travels, until awhile ago 
 in reading that admirable book, "Out of Doors in 
 Palestine," by Dr. Henry Van Dyke. In giving his 
 reason for writing it he said he knew many books 
 had been written on Palestine and people might 
 say there were no more needed, but he thought there 
 were flowers enough on the Holy Hills for every one 
 to come back with a bouquet. So here I come with 
 these pages flowers in a little bouquet which I 
 place in the hands of my friends. 
 
 I know some of them are wilted flowers, and in 
 some of them there are thorns. I know some of 
 them are such common-place blossoms that many 
 people will cast them aside as unworthy to be put 
 on their table. But if any of these pages should 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 13 
 
 chance to be a flower that brings any beauty or 
 fragrance to the heart of any of my friends, my 
 heart will be glad and my labor will be rewarded. 
 
 No attempt at scholarship has been made, and 
 no effort at literary attainment has been undertaken. 
 These pages are rather the plain musings of a hum- 
 ble soul and the impressions of a heart that has been 
 touched. It is written in that heart's own way, with 
 nobody for a pattern and no other hand guiding the 
 pen. It is withal the plain, frank words of a heart 
 that believes and feels, and therefore speaks. 
 
 Special appreciation is extended to Rev. J. J. 
 Wicker, D. D. and Mr. J. J. Wicker, Jr., of Rich- 
 mond, managers of the Wicker Tours, whose courte- 
 sies and friendship was invaluable; to George Jal- 
 louk the best of Guides and Dragomen ; to Dr. Squires 
 of Norfolk, who allowed me the use of some of his 
 pictures; to the members of my churches (Ri Ver- 
 mont Church, Lynchburg, and Laurel Street Church, 
 Richmond) ; to Miss Janie Lipes of Lynchburg my 
 efficient secretary for the interest they took in 
 my travels; and last but not least to the members 
 of our party whose fellowship, patience and good 
 nature made the trip a success. 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE. 
 
 In the far-away land of Egypt 
 I gazed on the setting sun, 
 As I stood on the sand, with my staff in my hand, 
 At eve when the day was done. 
 
 I stood in the courts of Rome, 
 And thought of her days so great, 
 When in her gold and her glory she wrote her own 
 story 
 
 In the sin that sealed her fate. 
 
 I walked through the city of Zion, 
 So hallowed in life and in lore, 
 Where her priests and her king made all her hills 
 ring 
 
 In praise to the God we adore. 
 
 I walked where the Master went 
 By the side of the far-famed sea, 
 As the winds blew o'er the wave-washed shore 
 Of beautiful Galilee. 
 
 I walked in the Garden of God, 
 That men call Gethsemane, 
 And the moon shone bright, that beautiful night, 
 Where Christ won Heaven for me. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 GETTING A PASSPORT. 
 
 It is a great sport. Seeing Babe Ruth hurl the 
 ball is tame and an old southern fox hunt with 
 forty hounds in full cry on the heels of old Red is 
 a second class show. Charles Chaplin and a meet- 
 ing of the Board of Stewards together cannot fur- 
 nish as much fun. 
 
 It seems it would be an easy task to leave your 
 native land for a little trip to see your cousins over 
 seas but the telephone girl gave you the wrong 
 number when she thus connected you with informa- 
 tion. 
 
 You will find your wife and all the neighbors 
 glad to see you go and all their little niceties are 
 clone to show it. If you are a preacher, the Board 
 of Stewards will hear your plea for travel and study 
 with as much gravity as the Hebrew Sanhedrin 
 selecting the scape goat that is to be driven into the 
 wilderness. Then Col. Grimes and Bill Stone will 
 gravely speak and say that they do not see how in 
 the world the church will get along without you 
 and that you will be missed more than Woodrow 
 Wilson was when he went to Paris. But in all their 
 hearts, they are thanking the Lord you are going 
 and are vowing they too will have a rest and not 
 go to church until you return, not even the Sunday 
 the Elder preaches. 
 
 But the strange thing is, your Uncle Sam seems 
 gravely concerned about your departure and has 
 
16 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Philadelphia lawyers and the experts, who muddle 
 railroad time tables, and the doctors, who write un- 
 readable prescriptions, all to combine and work in 
 full committee designing a series of entanglements 
 and manufacturing a quantity of red tape that 
 would have made Julius Caesar say something else 
 besides "Gall is divided into three parts." 
 
 This is what I found when with all my comrades 
 I tried my little trip. I received all due informa- 
 tion with exhibit a b c from Dan to Beersheba so to 
 speak and set about the task of getting my pass- 
 port. 
 
 I was told the first thing was to produce a birth 
 certificate to convince my Uncle on my Father's 
 side that the alleged owner of the name I was re- 
 puted to bear was really and truly born one time, 
 somewhere and was therefore the party of the first 
 part. 
 
 Here I was to speak for myself but they would 
 not take that as evidence. I did not remember where 
 nor when I threw my hat in the ring but felt I had 
 reasonable evidence that I was born somewhere 
 and in the days of my coming, birth certificates like 
 Fords were unknown. Folks had something else to 
 do besides filing affidavits and sending out perfumed 
 announcements every time there was such a trivial 
 occurrence as another kid born into the flock. 
 
 Then I was told that I would have to get some 
 reputable citizen to swear in the presence of a 
 Notary Public where and when to the best of his 
 belief the accused was born if at all, and if so, why 
 not? I thought of a friend, who would thus swear 
 
Teorge Jallouk. The best of guides, kindest of friends. 
 The more you see of him the better you love him. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 17 
 
 for me. He will swear on slight provocation and 
 didn't mind doing it in the presence of a Notorious 
 Republican for he will even swear in the presence 
 of gentlemen. So he came forward and swore I was 
 born Jan. 9, 1880, at Rowland, N. C, according to 
 the best of his knowledge and belief, tho both of 
 these things with him were scant. He has never been 
 to Rowland and does not know whether I saw the 
 light in frozen Siberia or the Fiji Islands. 
 
 This being fixed, I was told I would have to have 
 my boss to swear why I was going and give his 
 permission. I got my Presiding Elder to do this 
 swearing for me. 
 
 Then I had to go to the photographer and have 
 a full face picture taken to put on the passport and 
 take some extra ones along to put in foreign rogues 
 galleries. I always feel and look like a nut having 
 my picture taken and rather have a back view than 
 full face but I had to do it. Then I had to get the 
 picture man to swear it was my picture so they 
 would take it. 
 
 Armed with these things I went to the clerk of 
 the court, who sat me down and looked at me as if 
 I was "particeps criminis" in the Wall Street ex- 
 plosion and demanded me to answer the following 
 suggestions describing myself. 
 
 I was asked of my age, which I told. Since I 
 was not responsible for it, I was not ashamed of it, 
 and I told it. Then he asked my height and weight. 
 I measured my height and got that right. He called 
 my forehead high, tho I dislike the term high headed 
 and big headed as much as anything I know. 
 
18 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 My eyes were blue and my nose he called medium, 
 whatever that means. My chin he put down as 
 medium and my hair as red and gray, the last of 
 which made me sad. My complexion was fair. But 
 the last two things stumped us and it was here we 
 almost had a fight and seemed dangerously near 
 calling off the whole thing. 
 
 He had to record the kind of a face and mouth I 
 had. He could not tell and he asked me. Now 
 reader if you are reading and did not get disgusted 
 long ago, you do not know how hard it is to put 
 down on paper in a sworn statement the kind of a 
 face and mouth you have unless you have tried. 
 
 Some friend in the room suggested I had an in- 
 growing face and I told him I would see him later. 
 Another said it was a sneaking face and the look I 
 gave him was good evidence. 
 
 Someone said my mouth was of the Henry Cabot 
 Lodge variety and another thought it was of the 
 George Harvey brand just runs without knowing 
 where it is going. 
 
 But reader what kind of a mouth have you? A 
 kind and gentle one that cheers and helps and com- 
 forts and encourages or one that cuts and knocks 
 and hurts and growls and complains? Finally he 
 put mine down as medium, whatever that means, 
 and I wonder if he was right. It seemed he was get- 
 ting me too much in the medium class. But I hope 
 that in doing the real service a normal mouth was 
 meant to do, mine is even medium. My face he 
 said was oval which sounds better than saying it 
 was square, oblong, three cornered or mule faced. 
 But between us it is not oval. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 19 
 
 Then I paid him $9.00, war tax and post mortem 
 expenses and we went on to Washington to do some 
 more red tape stunts. We had to run the gauntlet 
 of the state department for extensions and begin 
 that marvelous and interesting game of having it 
 vised before all the foreign consuls whose countries 
 we were to visit and there receive a stamp with the 
 King's photo and license to be skinned in that par- 
 ticular land and for this privilege, pay what al- 
 together made $33.00 more which went to buy more 
 war ships to whip some future king, who might 
 try the "Me and Gott stunt." 
 
 The first was the Italian office and after waiting 
 in line and measuring enough Italian red tape to 
 throttle an octopus, we came out with proper en- 
 dorsement signed by Hon. Guisseppelesante Vetes 
 bearing this significant statement "Deriti hero ono 
 assuguanto" which cost $10.00. 
 
 Then we did the same preliminary stunt over at 
 the office of the Swiss Legation and an official with 
 more dignity than George Harvey has of brass filled 
 out a little pamphlet that looked like Blums' Al- 
 manac, pasted it neatly in and signed his name D. 
 C. Jenny, Secretaire de Legation Suesse, Washing- 
 ton, D. C., and $2.00 we paid and told Mr. and Mrs. 
 Jenny as the case may be good-bye and made for 
 the other red tape mills. At the Greek office when 
 our turn came, he wrote on a place after affixing 
 stamps "Bon pour serendere en Grese Le Direct 
 our D. C. Le St Joe 121" and signed L. Koundou- 
 mauke which in English may mean Jim Jones. 
 
 Then likewise to the French, the Belgium, Eng- 
 
20 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 lish, Holland and all the others. The last thing was 
 the picture of King George which cost $5.00. 
 
 Then we were told we must get another reput- 
 able man to swear if we never came back, he would 
 pay our income tax and also get a sworn statement 
 from the Collector of Revenue saying we had al- 
 ready paid up. This enabled us to get a sailing 
 permit, which with our baggage and a certificate 
 that we had been vaccinated for several diseases 
 enabled us to board a steamer for the land of wait- 
 ing pirates, who would skin us of what hide the 
 diplomats had left. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF TRAVEL. 
 
 There are a great many effects that come from 
 travel. We are told it broadens folks. It some- 
 times narrows folks and belittles them. It is ex- 
 hausting to your pocketbook, your patience and 
 the opinions your friends have of you. It makes 
 some folks love the old world more and makes some 
 others hate it. It causes some people to think they 
 know everything and others to think they know 
 nothing. 
 
 One of the far reaching effects of travel and one 
 fraught with most danger, is the close association 
 that will make us know too much about one an- 
 other by living together at close range. We find 
 out who snores, and who eats onions and who chews 
 gum, who has any divorced relatives, who belongs 
 to different churches, who are Republicans and 
 Democrats, who says "ither and nither" and in all 
 this private and detailed information comes trouble 
 and disaster. 
 
 There is a fine looking woman we have honored 
 and admired and three days out, it leaks out thru 
 her roommate, who remarked in the profoundest 
 secrecy to the wife of a friend in the party that 
 she has false hair and false teeth. There is a digni- 
 fied Doctor of Divinity, we honored and respected 
 but we have to eat by him at the table and soon 
 learn he does not put on the muffler when he eats 
 soup and that he insists on rehearsing the smart 
 antics of his baby boy. This ruins him forever. 
 
22 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 There is a beautiful young woman sweet as an 
 Elberta Peach and as fine a picture as an artist 
 could paint. We classed her as among those beyond 
 this earth when in less than a week, we saw her 
 turning up her nose at everything and pouting like 
 a swell toad. 
 
 Here is a man we thought the personification of 
 chivalry, when we discover he picks over a dish 
 to get the best portion for himself, slips into the 
 best seat first and considers no one but himself. 
 
 The tragedy of life is in seeing one another at 
 close range. It is a hazardous thing to do. The 
 old proverb says, no house is big enough to hold 
 two women and like Postum "There's a Reason." 
 They learn too much of each other. 
 
 It is sad to see some folks at close range. The 
 microscope brings out the defects. Close gazing at 
 the canvas reveals a gob of paint on a cloth and 
 not the fine lines of a masterpiece. The beautiful 
 face of the sweetest woman under a powerful magni- 
 fying glass reveals great black spots and hairy hor- 
 rors like a briar patch. 
 
 Our wives know all about us but with them char- 
 ity covers a multitude of faults. She will read to us 
 all our defects and short comings but she will raise 
 a rough house if another woman even finds out 
 one of them and speaks of it. She will to the whole 
 world then proclaim us perfect. 
 
 But the difference is when we know other people 
 at close range like this there is no love that covers 
 a multitude of faults, but a criticism that magnifies 
 them. Whoever heard of one man or woman lov- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 23 
 
 ing and respecting their roommate who snored! 
 All they would want to lynch the offender would 
 be for someone to start the mob. 
 
 What a pity we have to know so much about one 
 another when we travel. If there was some way to 
 stay in glass cases a good deal of the time and 
 not force our personality on our comrades, how 
 much better it would be. You are not long out 
 when you hear the different ones saying, "He is 
 not the man I thought he was." "I am certainly 
 surprised in her." "Who would have thought." 
 
 But there are some folks we hope a large num- 
 ber of folks who like a shoe feel better on the foot 
 the more you wear them. They improve on close 
 acquaintance. Not that they look prettier and more 
 perfect under the high power glass of close inspec- 
 tion, but that they show up to be real humans the 
 more you know them. You have found some of these 
 the real true travelers of life. Happy are you if 
 in the road of life as you jog along with your friends 
 you are one of those who wear well, and more and 
 more at close contact prove yourself real human 
 and not polish even of the highest quality or worse 
 still cheap veneer. 
 
 And herein lies one of the best things of travel. 
 I would never have known how real, how true, how 
 human some of my friends were if I had not travel- 
 led with them at close range and listen a minute 
 much of the wrong was in me for magnifying the 
 short comings and not magnifying the virtues. 
 
 It is interesting to study the distinctive products 
 of different cities you visit when touring the old 
 
24 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 world. These old cities may hold all sorts of things 
 but each one will claim some products distinctive 
 above the others. 
 
 In Naples you buy Roman Pearl beads. In Rome 
 you look for cameos, while in Florence your hunt is 
 for mosaics the finest in the world. Then in 
 Venice, you go wild over Venetian glass. 
 
 Of course, you can't be a tourist without be- 
 ing a nut and while you will travel all the main 
 methods of locomotion, by boat, rail, auto, carriage, 
 tallyho, donkey, camel, gondola, aeroplane your main 
 method of getting about will be riding hobbies. You 
 may never have developed any special mania for 
 hobbyriding at home save when you took the children 
 to the park to ride the hobby-horses. Your wife 
 with the assistance of your mother-in-law may have 
 saved you from the hobby mania. You may not be 
 wedded to red flannel under shirts, derby hats and 
 patent medicines. If you are a school teacher, the 
 Board of Trustees and the scholars saw to it that 
 you were saved from the hobby mania. 
 
 But once you join a tourist party, you get the hob- 
 by mania. The lady from South Carolina had the 
 disease when she got to New York and it being con- 
 tagious everybody caught it. Conspicuous in the 
 list is the kodak hobbiest. You see him with the 
 little black case strapped on his shoulder and you 
 know the jig is up. Morning, noon and night, he 
 must be busy taking pictures. He never thinks of 
 anything else. Forty times a day he insists on lin- 
 ing the whole party up like they are to be shot and 
 making them go thru the ordeal of looking pleasant 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 25 
 
 while he takes your pictures. He must take the 
 guide's picture, the horses' picture and get snap 
 shots of all the tombs, dogs and cats you pass. 
 
 Then you have the germ hobbiest. And of all the 
 poor nuts of the seven hundred and fifty-seven 
 varieties classified in the Blue Book of who is who 
 among nuts, there is none so miserable and incur- 
 able as the nut who thinks some little bug will get 
 you if you don't watch out. Sometimes these nuts 
 are women and sometimes men. They are afraid 
 of disease. They insist on having the pedigree and 
 family history of all the cheese and macaroni. They 
 protest about the bread being hauled about like 
 wood. They are always looking for cooties. They 
 want the water boiled and are always afraid of 
 catching something. 
 
 Then you have one or more whose hobby is the 
 diets of the lands you visit. He attracts attention 
 by what he pretends to know about the things they 
 serve to eat. He claims he knows what it all is and 
 pretends to like it. He eats garlic and diseased 
 cheese, and snails, in the presence of all the others 
 and pretends to relish it when in reality he is 
 punishing himself just to punish other people. 
 
 Of course you will have the souvenir hobbiest. He 
 or she will risk life and reputation to secure a 
 relic from every place he visits. He loads up on 
 rocks from many places and does not know where 
 they come from. He will steal or do anything for 
 a souvenir. 
 
 Some go crazy over cameos and some over beads, 
 some over mosaics, and some over silks, some over 
 
26 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 walking canes and some over but all go crazy over 
 something. 
 
 But doubtless the most detested nut that travels 
 in tourist party is the one who tries to tell you every- 
 thing about the places you are to visit. If there 
 should be a mob that should tar and feather this 
 culprit, they should be excused. Happy are you 
 when going Abroad if you do not fall in with some 
 one who has been before and wants to tell you every- 
 thing. 
 
 It will take you a long time to get over your crazy 
 spell when you get home but when you do get nor- 
 mal, you will be glad you went. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 OUTWARD BOUND. 
 (1914) 
 
 I cannot remember the time in my life when I 
 did not long to visit the old world. Especially did 
 I hunger for travel in the parts of the world from 
 which we get our Bible and all that is worth while 
 in our civilization and religion. With the passing 
 years this dream became a passion and a prayer. 
 I did not see much prospects to overcome barriers 
 and go, for time and money and a family that need- 
 ed me, came first. But God seemed to open the way 
 and move some hearts to open doors. 
 
 When I found the Wicker party was going right 
 in Richmond where I was living, I took the matter 
 up with my official board at Laurel St. Church. It 
 was asking a good deal to expect them to let me off 
 the whole summer, but when they heard me timidly 
 make my plan, with one accord they voted, they 
 would be delighted for me to go. I have learned bet- 
 ter since then that church boards are far more will- 
 ing for the preacher to go than people think. If Col. 
 Grimes the Chairman says he does not see how they 
 can possibly live without him, the Colonel is hoping 
 in his heart the parson will leave and give him and 
 the rest of the board a chance to play hooky from 
 church all summer. 
 
 Then I went to the Sunday School and when they 
 heard my plea, they voted with one accord they 
 would be highly pleased for me to go. Then at last 
 I mustered couraged to tell my wife I had decided 
 
28 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 to put the wide ocean between us and journey to 
 lands afar where I might be like Jonah swallowed 
 by a whale or like the man on the Jericho road fall 
 in the hands of custom officers who would take all 
 my souvenirs and breaking my heart, depart leav- 
 ing me half dead. Instead of protesting tears, she 
 smiled her sweetest smile and said it would make 
 her heart ring with joy for me to do so. 
 
 Then I had to go, for I had burned the bridges. 
 The folks had a farewell service and presented me 
 with a handful of the root of all evil, a steamer rug 
 and a suitcase to take a clean shirt over there and 
 bring back all I could smuggle in. When they opened 
 the suitcase a mouse jumped out and made for the 
 Sunday school entrance embarrassing the ladies, 
 who wore hobble skirts and therefore were hampered 
 in retreating under fire. A wise one said this meant 
 bad luck, and his warning was certainly well 
 founded for the world war broke out that summer 
 and an Arab stole Bro. L. T. Williams' best coat. 
 
 The trip of that summer was a rare and gracious 
 privilege and brought into my life more than pen 
 could write or tongue could tell. There are many 
 rare incidents of the voyage I would preserve and 
 rich treasures I would treasure. They are preserv- 
 ed in the first book, "A Pilgrimage to Palestine." 
 This volume will give some of these but the most 
 of it will deal with the second tour of 1921. 
 
 SOME INCIDENTS OF THE FIRST TOUR. 
 
 The majestic boat is ready to turn her nose to 
 the open sea. The whistle has blown, the gang 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 29 
 
 plank hauled in and the tug boat takes her like an 
 ant lugging a huge thing and turns her toward the 
 channel. Handkerchiefs wave, tears are falling, 
 the shore receding, the waters churning, the wide 
 sea calling, and the sun sinking in the reddening 
 glory of the west, while in the deepening shadows 
 the shore line of our native land fades in the gather- 
 ing night and the majestic Staute of Liberty with 
 exalted torch waving to nations beyond, is lost to 
 view and the boat with her great heart of fire and 
 quivering life settles herself to the long and event- 
 ful journey. 
 
 This ocean journey was interesting for many 
 reasons. One of the most attractive things on board 
 was the large amount of eating that was done. That 
 has always been interesting to me. I formed the 
 habit early in life and have never been able to break 
 myself of it. I like to be around when it is going 
 on. We had breakfast at 7, forenoon lunch at 10, 
 noon lunch 12 to 1 :30, afternoon tea at 3 and dinner 
 from 6 to 7:30. There is a simple reason for so 
 much eating on a sea journey. You cannot always 
 keep what you eat and you need some more handy 
 when you want it. 
 
 A story was told of a Kentucky gentleman on 
 our boat. In a storm when the sea demons roared 
 and the wind raged at eighty miles an hour, he was 
 found on the outer deck praying to the God that 
 holds the ocean in His hands and confessing all the 
 sins he had ever done. As a friend bent over his 
 prostrate form, he whispered, 
 
30 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 "Jim when it is all over, take my remains back to 
 old Kentucky where the grass is blue and the wo- 
 men true." 
 
 There came another surging of the boat as she 
 pitched from a high wave into the trough of the sea 
 as if she was headed for the regions below and when 
 the sufferer recovered sufficient strength again, he 
 said in a voice more feeble, 
 
 "Jim, you needn't bother about the remains. There 
 aint goin' ter be enough to take to Kentucky." 
 
 Another reason the trip was interesting was be- 
 cause the boat was a German boat and the crew 
 and many passengers of that Nation. They were 
 very interesting folks that summer and the longer 
 we stayed with them, the more interesting they be- 
 came until we were almost unable to tear ourselves 
 from them and return home. 
 
 It is hard to live in peace with the Germans as 
 the following incident shows. My room-mate was 
 Rev. L. T. Williams of the Virginia Conference. 
 There is no truer man and like Nathaniel under the 
 fig tree he is almost mind you, almost a man 
 without guile. But he has other things to take its 
 place. He was a fine room mate and ever kind to 
 me. When time came to send our laundry to the 
 laundry woman, he took mine in his bundle and went 
 on a hunt for her. The bundle was small, for we 
 were restricted in our dry goods and notions, since 
 all we took went in one big suitcase to avoid trouble 
 and extra expense. But it is wonderful how well 
 you can get along thus limited. The ladies would 
 come down every day with something new or the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 31 
 
 old fixed in a new way. But give a woman a pow- 
 der puff and a varnish brush for her nose and she 
 but 
 
 Williams came back saying he feared we would 
 never see our duds any more for the laundress was 
 a German with no English on her tongue. I sug- 
 gested if there was any question, we would use the 
 sign language on her, an accomplishment in which 
 we were making honorable mention. And when he 
 brought the bundle back to the state room, there 
 was a question, for my shirt was missing and a fel- 
 low needs such an article away from home. I told 
 him to go to the laundress and make complaint as 
 she might remember him, but would never remem- 
 ber me. He went and in a minute, I heard him 
 talking louder and louder in English and a German 
 woman answering back louder and faster in German. 
 It seemed like diplomatic relations would soon be 
 severed if some intervention did not take place, and 
 I went with all speed to help my friend. But I was 
 too late. I met him coming in full retreat with a 
 big double jointed kraut eating female hot on his 
 trail. I retired to my state room doubled my fists 
 with all the Protestant blood of the Stuart charg- 
 ing the crimson tide of my ancestral veins, ready 
 to defend my private quarters from the invasion 
 of any Teutonic intruder. I looked her in the eye 
 and told her no offense was meant either to her 
 or to the House of Hohenzollern but the whole crux 
 of this international altercation hinged on my lost 
 shirt which I thought she had and since she could 
 not wear it (she seemed to require twice that size) 
 
32 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 and I could, I would be grateful to her to produce 
 it since it was rather trying on a man of dignity 
 to be away from home without a shirt. 
 
 She flashed a Hunish and evil eye on me and di- 
 rected a finger near my nose, telling me in a lan- 
 guage I understood that we had made a mistake for 
 she was not the laundress but a passenger on the 
 boat I drop the curtain. 
 
 That afternoon I saw a German mother and an 
 American mother. Each had babies about the same 
 age. Said the American mother (it was before the 
 war) to the German mother, 
 
 "He was a purty little tootsie wootsie." Said the 
 German mother to the American mother, 
 
 "He vus not a he, he vus a she." 
 And then I knew baby talk was the same the world 
 over. 
 
 A brother could not get his food fixed right. And 
 of all the folks, who have a pay day coming, the 
 traveler in a party -who makes demands and com- 
 plaints is on his way to his. This man was rich and 
 had servants coming and going. He had his way 
 and all his taste called for. His choice hobby was 
 kicking because the coffee was not hot. He com- 
 plained all the time and to everybody. One morn- 
 ing as the waiter boy came behind him with a 
 waiter full of coffee, the gentleman was absorbed 
 with his snout in his oatmeal dish, eating without 
 putting the muffler on. Some one touched the boy's 
 elbow and he deposited two cups of coffee down the 
 gentleman's neck. He leaped in the air, knocked 
 over his chair screaming, 
 
Our girl. Miss Estelle Warlick, the best of trav- 
 elers never late, never complained, never sour. She 
 has since become the wife of Rev. E. L. Hillman, 
 pastor of the Methodist Church in Scotland Neck, 
 N. C, and is eminently qualified for the "Traveling 
 Connection." 
 
Ready for the Customs Officers. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 33 
 
 "Dog bite (?) it. I'm scalded, I'm scalded." 
 Before I thought, I said, 
 
 "Well Colonel, I am glad you got it hot once." 
 
 When folks go abroad, they must have a guide 
 book and a bottle of quinine. The book has many 
 foreign phrases that are used by tourists to give 
 the impression of scholarship and learning. I heard 
 many using these things and felt lost without them 
 so I got a book to find some. I was reading about 
 the retinue and pompous pedigree of the Duke of 
 Luxumberg when a dude walked by. Like all English 
 Americans and Irish, I have a deal of prejudice in my 
 blood. Some things and folks I do not like. The 
 reason why I cannot always tell, but this I know 
 and know full well, I do not like you Isabel. I do 
 not like dudes and poodle dogs. I like most all other 
 dogs both human and canine especially hounds 
 and pointers, but don't like dudes and poodles. I 
 do not know just why I class them together but 
 since I think of it, I let them stay there. 
 
 This dude wore a monocle over one eye and noth- 
 ing over the other. The reason they do this is they 
 can see more with one eye than they have sense 
 enough to understand, and they need not use the 
 other eye. As he passed a lady asked me who the 
 distinguished looking gentleman was. I swelled up 
 like the Professor of Bontology in Boston Univer- 
 sity and said in a voice Ike a bishop 
 
 "He looks like he might be Duke Von Sternberg 
 of Luxumberg." 
 
 I did not say he was it, but said he looked like 
 he may be it, and he did for he looked like he might 
 
34 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 be most anything. A girl heard me say that and 
 spread it over the boat that he was Duke Von Stern- 
 berg of Luxumberg. The next time I saw the duke 
 he had a lady on each arm and for the rest of the 
 trip was the most popular man on board. In those 
 pre-war days, a duke and a pedigreed European 
 nut stood higher than they do now. 
 
 Sitting near us was a German girl bright and 
 sunny, who had a good English tongue. She helped 
 us as an interpreter. Her name was Miss Maria 
 and the second name was as long as a broom and 
 had the sound of Limberger and Garlic. I asked 
 her one day who that fellow was and her eyes 
 shone as she replied with animation, 
 
 "Why, he is Duke Von Sternberg of Luxumberg." 
 
 "No," I said, "He isn't that. I don't know what 
 he is but that girl at the post with a brown cloak 
 knows him from the way she talks to him. Go and 
 find out who he is." 
 
 Of course if you send a woman off on a trail like 
 that, she will tree something before night, and in 
 a few minutes Miss Marie returned, smiling, saying 
 she she had his number in the phone book. His 
 name was Isaac Ernstine. He was a German Jew 
 who had been in the fruit business in New York 
 and was on his way home to see his mother. 
 
 Having journeyed over forty thousand miles, min- 
 gling with people of many tongues, we found no 
 difficulty in talking with foreigners on their native 
 heath in their own language. There is but one rule 
 to remember. Make a fuss in your goozle like you 
 gargle your throat for tonsilitis and then make signs 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 35 
 
 to express your meaning. I will never believe ail 
 the pig grunting, goose quacking sputtering, I heard 
 in foreign lands is language. We are the only folks 
 who have a language. They just jabber and make 
 signs. 
 
 Sitting near us on the deck was a woman of 
 leisure and means, who was traveling the world over. 
 She had just returned from China where in the port 
 of Hong Kong, she purchased a Pomereen pup. He 
 was the only child she had and he very much re- 
 sembled his mother. I have long known the best way 
 to win a woman's favor is to notice her child and 
 we paid attention to the pup. Bro. Williams tried 
 to ask her if the pup would bite but she could not 
 understand what "bite" meant. He put his finger 
 toward his lips and then toward the pup's mouth to 
 try to ask her in the sign language if the dog would 
 bite, and suddenly the light of understanding flooded 
 her face. She thought he wanted to kiss the pup 
 and she put the pup's face up towards his. 
 
 We landed in Germany and traveled this country. 
 Much could be written about it, but what is the use? 
 In those days, the Kaiser ruled in splendor, receiv- 
 ing about $6,000,000. a year all told. It is hard to 
 get accurate information from the place where that 
 arch fiend of the human race hides behind the skirts 
 of the Queen of Holland whither he fled in beastly 
 cowardice to keep the hands of an outraged world 
 from getting him by his devilish throat and bringing 
 him out to the justice his bloody crimes against 
 God as well as men, women and little children de- 
 
36 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 serve but it is safe to say his salary has been con- 
 siderably reduced since that day. 
 
 But the Hohenzollerns have fallen and their glory 
 departed. The storm has swept proud monarchs 
 from their gilded thrones; crowns corrode in the 
 dirt ; moths eat the ermine ; the blood of the Roman- 
 offs stain Siberian snows, while Charles of Austria 
 dies in lonely exile. Ah ! The strange new day that 
 has dawned! The civilization of Europe, we saw 
 in 1914 has crumbled to the ground, and men work 
 desperately to build again in the wreckage that was 
 wrought. 
 
 A COLLISION AT SEA. 
 
 Today there is little that modern ocean boats 
 need dread. Mortals are safer on the sea than try- 
 ing to dodge automobiles in Richmond for now we 
 are all divided into two classes, the quick, who get 
 out of the way, and the dead who do not. Those 
 majestic ocean liners defy the raging winds and 
 dashing storm, as they ride the rolling waves un- 
 afraid. Seldom does one perish in a storm. Bar- 
 ring the devilish submarine the most fiendish in- 
 vention ever made, save mustard gas and liquid fire 
 there is but one thing that is dangerous. It is 
 when fog comes dark and heavy on the water that 
 danger is near. 
 
 Going the northern road, we come near the ice 
 zone and the fog comes down upon us. It was not 
 far from where the Titanic made her deadly plunge 
 to her watery grave and shocked the world, and it 
 was not long after that awful tragedy. We went 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 37 
 
 to our beds listening to the fog horns every five 
 minutes. You think you wouldn't sleep, but you 
 would for the great good God has put something 
 in the roll of the ocean's wave that is like your 
 mother's hand on the cradle of your childhood, and 
 he has put something in the moan of ocean wind 
 that is like her lullabies in your tired ears. It lulls 
 you to sleep. In after months men slept like babes 
 when the sea was full of death and they never knew 
 as they laid down at night whether they would be 
 on the boat or in eternity in the morning. About 
 2 A. M. June 13, 1914 and it was on Friday I 
 was hurled from sweet repose in my upper berth 
 to the floor and as I crossed the great divide out of 
 the other world where we sleep into this world 
 where we are awake, I heard a sound such as I 
 never heard before and I pray God, I will never hear 
 again. It was the smashing of timbers and the 
 grating of iron, mingled with the crying of the 
 women and children and the hurrying of the officers. 
 The boat shook and quivered and felt as if she was 
 going head first to the bottom of the deep. In after 
 months when Germans torpedoed helpless boats 
 and the white faces of the women and little children 
 looked up at the stars as the swelling floods of death 
 rushed on them, I could hear their cries Oh that 
 cry of the women and the children in a sinking 
 ship in the dark. Then came the voice of the officer 
 
 "Collision ! All passengers on board with life pre- 
 servers on." 
 
 Fixing our life belts, we climbed to the outer deck 
 and looked out in the dark to the dim decks of the 
 
38 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 New York of the American Line inward bound. A 
 hole was torn in her side just above the water 35 
 ft. x 4 The hole in our boat was 10 x 4. Both 
 were just above the water and after ours was re- 
 paired, we proceeded. 
 
 During the war, I met a man who was on the 
 New York. He was mail clerk, and he told how he 
 prayed as he had never prayed before and said he 
 well remembered how they sang, "Nearer My God 
 to Thee," as they thought the boat was going down. 
 
 Looking back, there comes a sweet remembrance 
 of the beautiful hymn and its prayer that was gently 
 hummed and ever since it has been sweeter than 
 before, 
 
 "Jesus Saviour Pilot Me 
 
 Over Life's Tempestuous Sea." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 through austria-hungary and the balkan 
 States. 
 
 June 28, 1914. 
 
 For a long time we will not forget that fifteen 
 hundred miles from Dresden, Germany, through 
 Southern Europe to Constantinople. We were on 
 the train, the Continental Express, which is a good 
 train, for two days and nights. Our party num- 
 bered fifty and we were unable to secure but twelve 
 berths in the sleeper. We adopted a rule that only 
 the older ladies would be entitled to sleep, and never 
 in my life have I seen ladies age so rapidly. We 
 finally modified the rule by allowing men who were 
 both old and infirm a few hours in bed. The rest 
 of us sat up with the corpse. 
 
 And well we might sit up for there was no 
 sleep on that trip. We were passing through 
 countries, recently shaken by war, with battle- 
 fields much in evidence, while seething, surg- 
 ing all about us the caldron of the nations was 
 about ready to boil over again. It seems a shame 
 that a section of the world so rich in possibilities, 
 wide and fertile fields, hills heavy laden with bound- 
 less ore, should be settled by a people so restless 
 and so turbulent. Such a nervous condition would 
 be hard to equal. Soldiers and guards were every- 
 where. We had to snatch a little nap beside a sol- 
 dier whose form was decked with guns and swords 
 and whose eye watched your movements. At every 
 
40 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD ^ . 
 
 little thing he would start and his hand would seek 
 his gun. 
 
 At every turn guards and officials of vicious 
 mein and piercing eye came stalking through 
 the train in gaudy uniform and clanking steel. 
 They overhauled us, scrutinized us, looked at 
 our passports, fumbled through our baggage, ex- 
 amined our eyes and talked to one another about us 
 in words we could not understand. They gesticu- 
 lated over us and made many signs and motions. 
 They looked through the car to see if we had any- 
 thing concealed. They would leave us for a while 
 and go off only to return presently with others more 
 vicious looking than the first and men of higher 
 rank who wore more things on their bodies and 
 carried longer swords. Again they would gather 
 about us, jabber, and motion, looking first at us 
 and then at one another. At every station crowds 
 of soldiers and citizens of every kind and shape and 
 style would gather about the car windows looking 
 in and likewise talking about us, expressing their 
 opinions of us in a language like the barn yard. 
 Often they would bring their friends to peer at us 
 and say what they thought about us. Sometimes 
 we dozed from sheer exhaustion soon to be aroused 
 by approach of armed guards and heathen hands 
 upon us and we started over the routine we had 
 dropped but a while ago. 
 
 Since then I have had sympathy for a monkey at 
 a zoo gazed at by the crowd. I have been one my- 
 self. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 41 
 
 One night at two o'clock they stopped the 
 train and examined the wheels. We learned 
 they proposed to put off our car and leave us 
 with it in the heart of the Balkan mountains 
 for there was no room in the rest of the train 
 for us. We pleaded but it did no good. The leader, 
 being inspired by a Methodist impulse to get out 
 of a tight place by taking a collection, raised a few 
 dollars and handed it over to the heathen. They 
 smiled, and after examining the wheels again, re- 
 ported that three more francs would make the train 
 in condition to travel. They got the money and we 
 went on. After that when language failed us and 
 our country's flag was of no avail, we passed the 
 hat and money talked us through. After all, there 
 is no language like that of silver and gold. 
 
 We passed through the town in which the Aus- 
 trian prince and his wife were murdered the very 
 day of the crime. Little did we think what a great 
 matter a little fire would kindle. But the fire was 
 already there and it took only that to fan the flame. 
 From what we heard of the man we do not think 
 he was worth what he has cost the world. 
 
 During this trip we had tme to stop for a short 
 visit to Vienna and Budapest. We found these 
 cities far more beautiful and attractive than we 
 had expected. Vienna is called one of the most 
 beautiful cities of the world, and it sustained its 
 reputation. The capitol and royal buildings were 
 indeed attractive. Many of the people made a fine 
 appearance, some of the women being the most 
 beautiful we saw. Constantly we observed ever 
 
42 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 changing costumes, both of men and women, but 
 none were more marked than those of the young 
 ladies at Budapest. Their feet were bare and their 
 skirts reached their knees. Such skirts we never 
 saw before. Some of them were twenty-five feet 
 around and they wore many skirts one over an- 
 other. They were of various shades all ruffled and 
 arranged so when they walked it looked like the 
 whirl of the rain bow. Some of them must have 
 had on two dozen skirts. The social rank of a lady 
 is shown by the number of her skirts and on that 
 count I think we butted into an international ball 
 of the royal swells. 
 
 We were greatly impressed with the names of 
 some of the people and the places of these countries. 
 I copied in my note book some of the merchants. 
 It may be in order to recommend to the mothers 
 who read these lines the advisability of keeping 
 their children out of mischief by having them pro- 
 nounce these names. These are #ome of them, 
 noted citizens of Vienna and Budapest; Zum Zuck- 
 erlkonig, I Mir. Puperkoniggim, Mr. Sc Tiber sver- 
 sicherungs, M. Schrierbmosher, T. Schrunmachier- 
 meister, C. Wasserlolanger, T. Sputuosenschonk, Z. 
 Vizzygyintzete, V. Cyogykisyeltetnek, A. Zcegtulo- 
 jdonos, M. Meghoditotiuk, S. Arczfinomitoers, and 
 Zim Zuckerbuckeri. How would ou like to do busi- 
 ness with men of such names in the rush of this 
 fast day? How would you like to be secretary of 
 a Conference over there and try to call the roll? I 
 met some of these gentlemen and when I introduced 
 them I said, Allow me to present Mr," and then 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 43 
 
 I sneezed. The allies will have a time taking places 
 and people with such names as these. 
 
 I dare say if some of these folks come to our land 
 we Americans will treat them like a certain section 
 of North Carolina once treated a son of Italy who 
 came in their midst to settle, with a hand organ, a 
 monkey and a name as long as the monkey's tail. 
 Not being able to call the name with much speed 
 or satisfaction, the Tar Heels called him "Old Man 
 Turney" because he turned the organ for the monkey 
 to dance and Turney it had to be. He raised a big 
 family and the people called them "The Turney 
 youngens." In the public school they registered as 
 Joe Turney, Jim Turney, Pete Turney, etc., and the 
 last time I was in the town I heard Joe stand at the 
 window of the post office and ask if there was any 
 mail for any of the Turneys. I doubt if Joe knows 
 that awful thing the priest called his daddy back in 
 Sunny Italy, when he made the cross and put the 
 holy water on his head in that far off day before 
 North Carolinans brought his family through the 
 reformation. 
 
 Through fertile valleys, well watered and rich, 
 we made our way to the south. In the valleys we 
 found it hot while high up on the peaks of the Bal- 
 kans we saw, in mid summer, mantles of snow. Our 
 hearts grew sad as all about us we saw unnumbered 
 hosts of men, women and little children bereft of 
 all that makes life worth living in home and human 
 society, subjects of a tyranny and despotism that 
 knows no bounds, torn by ceaseless wars and in- 
 ternal strife, cursed by a religion far worse than 
 
44 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 darkest heathenism. The number of souls in these 
 countries seems without number. Their lives are 
 pathetic beyond the power to tell. What could they 
 do in this great country with our civilization and 
 religion ? 
 
 Did ever a brighter day dawn for the race 
 than when God guided Columbus to our shores? 
 Should any people be more happy than we 
 whom the Lord has so richly blessed and so ten- 
 derly cared for? These nights about our firesides 
 with our loved ones, surrounded by peace and 
 heaven's blessings of a Christian home and the gos- 
 pel of Jesus as we think of the horrors of war, 
 famine, pestilence, superstition, heathenism and 
 sin that sweep the hills of Europe and Asia, let us 
 kneel and thank our God for our lot. It required 
 an effort to keep the troubles of these souls from 
 taking the pleasure out of our trip. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 AMONG THE TURKS. 
 
 The sun was rising from over the cliffs of Asiatic 
 Turkey and flooding the blue waters of the Bos- 
 porus with a bright and welcome light as our train 
 came into the station of Constantinople. A strange 
 feeling came to us as we realized where we were. 
 This great old city, capital of the Ottoman Empire 
 and one time capital of the world lay about us, 
 teeming with its more than a million souls. The 
 uncanny and treacherous looking Turks moving in 
 every direction about us, strange, varied and hide- 
 ous costumes, seas of bobbing red fezs, create an 
 atmosphere heavy with history and many odors, 
 when you enter this land of prejudice, passion and 
 darkness. If you were to travel the world over you 
 would not feel just like you do in Turkey. 
 
 We had often heard Constantinople was the most 
 charming city of the earth from a distance but the 
 dirtiest and most repulsive when you were within 
 its gates. We were not there long when we found 
 it even so. As we beheld the city that morning in 
 the golden light of the southern sun, with its houses 
 stretching for a great distance along the front of 
 the beautiful Bosporus whose 'waves lapped the 
 steps, it looked like a necklace of pearls about a 
 fair lady's neck, but once beyond the border and 
 into the city of the Turks, we felt we were in the 
 garbage can of creation with Judge Taft sitting on 
 the lid. 
 
46 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD . 
 
 The Bosporus is a wonderful body of water, very 
 narrow, separating the continents of Europe and 
 Asia, connecting the Black Sea up near Eussia with 
 the Sea of Marmora. It is twenty miles long. Along 
 its European shore almost to the Black Sea are rows 
 of beautiful houses intermixed with luxuriant gar- 
 dens and old towers from the time of Constantine. 
 Within these walls men, women and little children 
 have often paid the price of being Christian with 
 the warm blood of their loyal hearts. 
 
 On this shore is the palace of the old Sultan 
 where, with his many wives he lived in splendor and 
 shame, drawing a salary of sixty million dollars 
 a year from the brawn and blood of his ignorant, 
 suffering subjects. Out there in the Bosporus old 
 Abdul Hamid used to sink a wife now and then 
 with a rock tied to her neck like an undesirable 
 cat because he tired of her. He would watch from 
 the porch of his mansion while the boatman took 
 the unfortunate woman out upon the moonlit water. 
 When the old fiend was ready he would raise a light 
 and at that signal the boatman would drop his 
 charge into the water, while the Sultan in his palace, 
 would smilingly go on his Satanic way. The rising 
 of the young Turks banished old Abdul a few years 
 ago. When he left he sold some of his wives to settle 
 a few debts ; others he gave as presents to his friends 
 while to his island of exile he carried the four that 
 remained after he had in a fit of jealous rage mur- 
 dered the youngest and fairest of them at all. 
 
 Sixty million dollars a year this old fiend received 
 for the place he held among the rulers of the earth 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 47 
 
 so long. He was the highest paid sovereign of the 
 world; His pay being five million dollars a month, 
 four hundred thousand dollars a day ! nearly three 
 hundred dollars a minute! When the President of 
 the United States received one dollar old Abdul 
 Hamid got six hundred, and then had to give some 
 of his wives to pay his debts. He must not have 
 been wise in his expenditures. But his day is done. 
 On his little island he is waiting the time when his 
 blackened soul will be consigned to the lowest depths 
 of an orthodox hell. The above facts were told us 
 and vouched for by prominent Turkish officials we 
 met. 
 
 The Bosporus has made much history along its 
 shores. Many Christian martyrs were faithful unto 
 death beside its waters. Here Xerxes undertook to 
 build a bridge and cross from Asia into Europe on 
 a mission of conquest. The sea became rough and 
 tore his bridge away, whereupon he had the build- 
 ers killed and ordered the waters lashed for their 
 bad behavior, showing what a fool he was. Here 
 Xenophon crossed on a pontoon bridge with ten 
 thousand men, as many youngsters have tried to 
 translate from that Greek book he wrote, as in 
 sweat and toil they expended more strength than 
 did old Xenophon in doing the deeds they tried to 
 read about. Here Jason came in 1400 B. C, rejoic- 
 ing with the Golden Fleece. 
 
 The Golden Horn is the bay running from the 
 Bosporus and the Sea of Marmora where they meet, 
 back into the city. It gets its name because of its 
 horn shape, being large at its mouth and curving 
 
48 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 to a point like a horn back into the heart of the city. 
 The sun shining upon its waters gives it the name 
 "Golden Horn." Also its name comes because it 
 is the meeting place of the nations on the highway 
 of the seas and into its horn-shaped mouth the na- 
 tions of the earth pour their golden treasures. When 
 the power of the Turk is broken and civilized 
 nations get this country it will indeed be the Gol- 
 den Horn and the greatest harbor of the earth. 
 A brdge crosses the Golden Horn connecting Stam- 
 boul, the old section of the city, with the new city. 
 Over this brdge daily moves the greatest mixture 
 of mortality the world can show you. Every class 
 and clan, creed and crowd, color and costume pass 
 before you. It is interesting to watch as far as 
 your eyes can see the stream of red fezes with black 
 tassels mixed in the mass of other things. This 
 is a toll bridge and yields a tremendous revenue 
 to the government. 
 
 It is impossible to realize the living conditions of 
 Constantinople. It must be seen to be understood. 
 The poverty, filth and degradaton is beyond the 
 telling of tongues. The streets are full of filth. 
 Thousands of dirty dogs are sleeping on the side- 
 walks or lazily pursuing their canine way as though 
 they owned the town. In returning to our hotel 
 one day we counted ninety-nine dogs in a few blocks, 
 and as we started in the door the hundredth one 
 trotted by. These dogs are full of fleas and are 
 very generous in distributing them. A Turkish of- 
 ficial informed us that when the young Turks came 
 into power, among other reforms they had a dog 
 
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 1 : 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
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 i J 
 
 / * ! ',;. *k 
 
 
 W'4 
 
 
 it 
 
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 S i -A 
 
 8 
 
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 *S o 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 49> 
 
 killing and dispatched thirty thousand canines to 
 the "happy prowling ground" in one day. He also 
 added with a smile that sausage was cheap the next 
 week. There certainly must have been a few dogs 
 in town before the killing time. These dogs belong 
 to nobody. They are looked upon as sacred ani- 
 mals and are reverenced and protected. They are 
 called the Sultan's street cleaners and perhaps to 
 them is due some credit for keeping down some of 
 the filth that might otherwise entirely destroy the 
 people. 
 
 The town is full of beggars, dirty and ragged 
 to a degree beyond description. Donkeys, camels 
 and goats are everywhere in sight. The streets 
 are full of venders of every class and kind, calling, 
 crying, moaning out their wares. All these strange 
 weird sounds pouring into your ears in the early 
 morning when you awake make you feel you are 
 surely in a strange land. 
 
 One very noticeable thing through all the Tur- 
 kish realm is the burdens the people bear. Instead 
 of having drays for hauling, the people become the 
 beasts of burden. Men, women and children are 
 seen carrying loads on their heads and backs that 
 it seems impossible to carry, and it seems only ex- 
 aggeration to tell it. When we landed men carried 
 our suit cases to the hotels. They were big double 
 suit cases and certainly some of the women had 
 theirs full. I could carry mine but a little way. 
 These men strapped seven and eight of these heavy 
 cases on their backs and went several blocks to the 
 hotel with them. Constantly this stream of burden 
 
50 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 bearers goes by you men with loads of lumber, 
 rocks, trunks, barrels of vegetables and every con- 
 ceivable kind of burden; women with loads little 
 lighter; children heavy laden, the stream goes on. 
 
 Often did we think of that beautiful verse of 
 the Master's we had told to many troubled hearts, 
 "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy 
 laden and I will give you rest." But Jesus has not 
 yet had the chance to lift the burdens from the 
 bodies or the souls of Turkey's millions. It seems 
 strange it has never occurred to them to harness 
 their donkeys and haul these burdens instead of 
 carrying them. As they have done through cen- 
 turies they go on with pack saddles on their backs 
 and heavier loads on their souls. 
 
 Gne of the most interesting objects to the tourist 
 is the mosque of St. Sophia. It is imposing and 
 beautiful, but its interor decorations are rather 
 gaudy. This building, now the most noted Turkish 
 temple of the city, was a Christian church built by 
 Emperor Justian who cried when it was complete, 
 "0 Solomon, I have surpassed thee." In the fif- 
 teenth century it was captured by the Turks and 
 turned into a Mohammedan Mosque. A hundred 
 thousand christians fled to this their place of wor- 
 ship for refuge when Mohammed rode triumphant 
 into the city. He charged upon them and many 
 thousand of them were killed. Over their dead 
 bodies he rode his horse into the building and 
 striking his hand-dripping red with the blood of 
 the Christians he had murdered upon the side of 
 the wall, he cried, "There is no God but Allah and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 51 
 
 Mohammed is his prophet." For hundreds of years 
 millions of deluded mortals have sent on that cry- 
 echoing over their deeds of blood and shame. 
 
 We were shown the bloody print of Mohammed's 
 hand upon the wall. We were not supposed to notice 
 the print was so high on the wall that a man would 
 have to sit on the head of a giraffe to reach it and 
 that the hand was no larger than that of a very 
 small child. We were also shown the holy carpet and 
 the prayer rugs which are carried on long and ardu- 
 ous pilgrimages to Mecca, where, by touching the 
 grave of Mohammed they received the magic power 
 to heal and save all who kneel upon them for months 
 following. We also looked upon the precious Mecca 
 stone which fell down from heaven to Mohammed. 
 To touch this stone and rub your finger on any dis- 
 eased part of your body will surely work a cure. The 
 constant rubbing of a ceaseless stream of super- 
 stitious fingers for five hundred years has worn 
 great grooves in the stone. 
 
 Many pigeons sacred birds were roosting and 
 nesting in the temple. Many of them were very 
 busy tearing up the sacred carpets to get material 
 for their nests. A number of boys sat on the floor 
 crooning out their lessons from the Koran in weird 
 sounds that made a cold shiver steal up your back. 
 Numbers of dirty, ragged Turks moved carpets to 
 different places, unrolled them and fixed them for 
 services we could not understand. In the midst of 
 their work they wrestled, played leap frog and rode 
 about on one another's backs, notwithstanding the 
 place was very sacred and we poor Christian dogs 
 
52 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 had to wear their holy dirty slippers about the tem- 
 ple while they followed to see that our unhallowed 
 heels touched not the sacred carpets. 
 
 Just to see what would happen I quietly slipped 
 my foot from the slipper ^nd went on without 
 it, to be followed post haste by several outraged 
 keepers of the temple who jabbered, sputtered, har- 
 angued and spit at me in great excitement, punctu- 
 ating their deliverances with a multitude of gym- 
 nastic exercises as they told me how I had insulted 
 the holy name of Mohammed. I quietly raised my 
 foot for them to tie on another slipper and went on 
 my way, through the midst of temple beggars and 
 men prostrate in prayers, who, with one eye on 
 Allah, kept the other treacherous, gleaming orb 
 fixed on us in a way to make us feel how readily 
 the Turks can mix religion and other things. Thus 
 passed our first visit to a pagan house of worship. 
 The feeling that sweeps down on your soul on such 
 a visit your tongue can't tell. How far away from 
 God religion so often is! 
 
 In the Royal Museum we saw many things of in- 
 terest recently brought to light by British and Ger- 
 man excavators. Among them was the skeleton of 
 the king of Tyre ( ?) with a hole in his head made 
 by the work of the murderous axe ; bracelets, breast 
 pins and many other articles of dress and ornament 
 said to be 3,000 years B. C., a beautiful sculptured 
 sarcophagus with many figures of weeping women, 
 no two of them in the same position, an elegant 
 sarcophagus of Alexander the Great. But the most 
 interesting thing was a gold spoon the Sultan al- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 53 
 
 ways takes with him on his annual pilgrimage to 
 Mecca. As he comes in contact with the masses he 
 is liable to find upon his body some of the multiplied 
 millions of vermin that go with the worshippers. 
 These insects being sacred animals even the Sultan 
 is not allowed to remove them with his hands but 
 must use this gold spoon for the purpose. What the 
 common folks do who cannot afford gold spoons for 
 such work, we were not told. Perhaps the Sultan 
 passes the spoon around or more likely the masses 
 consider a great honor to furnish hospitality to these 
 sacred animals and go their way rejoicing with 
 them. We were not so pious on this score nor did 
 we confine ourselves to gold spoons in seeking relief. 
 
 Constantinople has thirty times been destroyed 
 by fire and now it seems to be a perfect fire trap. 
 There she sits full of the heathenism, ignorance, 
 filth and shame with all the odors of the world 
 meeting in her streets. She occupies the greatest 
 seat on the highway of nations waiting for civilized 
 nations to redeem her people and give them a chance. 
 Who can tell what the future of Constantinople will 
 be when these war clouds roll away? 
 
 Some of our party grew poetic and expressed their 
 feelings and impressions in verses. One after an- 
 other submitted their productions. Some were grave 
 some provoked a smile. I wish I had these poems 
 to give, but none are available. They called on 
 me for a poem. I have a poetic soul, but no poetic 
 tongue or pen and have never been able to get any 
 space with verse, but under the spell of the East I 
 thought I might woo the muses sufficiently to make 
 
54 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 some poetry since the others were so successful. So 
 I gave myself to the task. The result was the fol- 
 lowing lines, which I dedicated to my friend and 
 fellow-traveller, Rev. L. T. Williams, because he 
 longed so much for the things at home, and could 
 never relish old bread and goat meat. 
 
 Turkey, land of ease 
 With all thy dogs and fleas, 
 
 Of thee I sing. 
 Loud will thy donkeys bray, 
 Because they need more hay 
 And always in your way, 
 
 While Turkey's king. 
 
 O Turkey, land of goats, 
 (So bare of pigs and shoats) 
 
 And men so slow. 
 I'll soon eat biscuits hot, 
 And coffee from my pot, 
 With ham I've not forgot 
 
 For now I go. 
 
 Turkey 'tis of thee, 
 Thou land beside the sea, 
 
 Of thee I sing. 
 Long will this awful glare 
 Fall on thy hills so bare 
 Of which thy people share, 
 
 While Turkey's king. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 55 
 
 Turkey, land of death, 
 Where freedom has no breath, 
 
 To thee I bring. 
 A feeling of disgust 
 Because thy souls are thrust 
 Down in this filth and dust, 
 
 While Turkey's king. 
 
 Turkey, land of doom, 
 Where children have no room 
 
 To live and sing. 
 Long will these shadows fall, 
 And all thy hearts enthrall. 
 God lift this heathan pall, 
 
 And let Freedom ring. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CONDITION OF TURKEY. 
 
 (1914) 
 
 One of the most prominent points in him is his 
 lack of progress. He is the original stand-patter, 
 opposed to advance of every kind. He is too lazy 
 to go forward, being the most slothful mortal you 
 can find. He has never added anything to the 
 world's constructive life but has destroyed all he 
 could that others had constructed. As John R. Mott 
 has well said, "If the Turk cannot find a desert he 
 will make one." In his restful ease he bitterly re- 
 sents all interference and delights to stand or rather 
 sit where he has been for centuries. He uses the 
 same implements he has always used, threshing out 
 his wheat by driving his cattle around it, plow- 
 ing with his same crude plows, carrying his com- 
 merce on his head, his back and the back of his don- 
 key, never having looked with favor upon wheel 
 vehicles. He has no factories for he'd rather do 
 all his work with his hands as his fathers did. 
 
 He is also the dirt est mortal you can find. Filth is 
 a part of his being. He is too lazy to be clean. To 
 be clean is too much like a Christian dog or a hated 
 Englishman; therefore filth is a virtue. Of course 
 this is not the case with all of them but it is true 
 with many. 
 
 And he is a fatalist of the deepest dye. It is 
 ground into his blood and stamped upon his soul. 
 Everything is worked out by an unchanging fate, 
 and it is worse than useless to try to put yourself 
 against it. Things are just as they were intended to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 57 
 
 be. His hills are full of oil and ore but he digs 
 it not for if Allah had intended it to be on top of 
 the ground it would be there and since it is under 
 the ground Allah intended it to remain there and 
 it would be the grossest insult to him to dig it up. 
 This is the reason he resents every approach of 
 western civilization that would change the old order 
 of things. It is sacrilege to try to change the 
 things fate has fixed. 
 
 He is also cursed by superstition. It haunts him, 
 poisons him, possesses him to a degree seldom found 
 anywhere. His religion and all his makeup is 
 tangled with a web of superstition. He wears 
 charms on himself and on his horses to keep off the 
 "evil eye," believing there are people so in league 
 with evil spirits that when they turn their eyes upon 
 you they bring a train of evil with that look. Sev- 
 eral times our horses chanced to lose these awful 
 looking beads from their necks and everything had 
 to wait until the lost ones could be found or new 
 ones secured, for it would have been ruin to go on 
 without them. A king would not be more distressed 
 over the loss of the crown than was my driver over 
 the loss of those beads and no king could say as 
 many awful sounding things in the same length of 
 time. They go on long pilgrimages to their holy 
 cities, Jerusalem, Mecca, Modena and Hebron that 
 they may touch the sacred spots and rid themselves 
 of all ills to body and soul as well as secure a pass- 
 port to Everlasting Blessedness. Rugs and robes 
 are placed on these holy spots and carried back that 
 their touch may impart a magic power and work 
 
58 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 many wonders. We saw many of these pilgrims 
 who had gone through the worst denials and priva- 
 tions to save means enough to take these long and 
 arduous journeys and everywhere we went they 
 were our fellow travelers. 
 
 The Turk is absolutely unreliable and dishonest. 
 Nobody can beat him lying. He seems to prefer a 
 lie to the truth. They cannot trust one another. 
 The government has inspectors to such an extent 
 that everybody seems to be watching everybody 
 else. The government and the thieves are in league 
 or rather they are one and the same. If you don't 
 want the robbers to bother you you can pay the 
 government for protection and the government will 
 divide with the thieves. Everybody is open to bribes 
 and often this is the only passport that will get you 
 through. We were charged an entrance fee of two 
 dollars each as we entered Turkey; another sum to 
 get through the Balkan mountains; another to get 
 out of Constantinople ; a medical fee to enter Alex- 
 andria, and a fumigation fee to get out of Beirut. 
 We would not have objected to paying the last if 
 they had fumigated themselves, but the rascals took 
 the fee and fumigated us. You can't trust them. 
 They will rise from their prayers and kill you if 
 they get a chance, and they will steal anything from 
 anybody. 
 
 The Mohammedan is on fire with hatred toward 
 all foreigners, especially Christians. His Bible en- 
 joins it upon him. His religion excites him to holy 
 wars to exterminate by the bloodiest methods all 
 who do not believe as he does. His country has run 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 59 
 
 with blood in many massacres and if they do not 
 again flood their hills with foreign blood it will be 
 because they fear England and America too much. 
 Their missionary propaganda is one of bloodshed. 
 It was the way their founder won his victories. It 
 is their future hope, and woe to the foreigners who 
 fall into their hands when the Holy War begins. 
 
 They are cruel and heartless despots to their own 
 people. The burdens their state and church put 
 on them is hard to realize. The government sells 
 the tax-gathering privilege to the highest bidder. 
 He pays the government whatever is agreed upon 
 and grinds out of the people in the district he covers 
 whatever he chooses, the people having no redress 
 whatever. Often the people have to pay over fifty 
 per cent, of what they make for tax. One day our 
 train stopped and we saw a man with a flock of 
 sheep and goats, about a dozen in all, about two hun- 
 dred yards from the track. The trainmen who were 
 officers of the law, the government owning the rail- 
 roads, left the train and had an argument with the 
 shepherd. They took the finest lamb from the flock 
 and brought him bleating to the train. We learned 
 from our guide that they had a law that whenever 
 a shepherd let his flock get in a certain distance 
 from the train (close enough for one of the rascals 
 to steal a sheep I suppose) they took a lamb as a 
 fine. This poor man was unable to pay the price of 
 two mejidos ($1.60) to redeem his lamb and the 
 trainmen carried it away for their dinner. This 
 was another of their many methods of robbery. The 
 
60 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 fruit trees have been taxed until large sections once 
 rich with fruitage are desolate. It is cheaper to 
 have no trees at all than face the unmerciful tax of 
 Turkey and the trees are cut down. 
 
 A very marked trait of the Mohammedan charac- 
 ter is his attitude toward women. He professes 
 great chivalry. He has veiled the faces of his wo- 
 men. Not even her own household can see her 
 face. He has private quarters for the women of his 
 house even though he lives in poor tents. And when 
 she leaves her shoes at the tent door as a sign that 
 she occupies her quarters, no man, no matter how 
 near, by family ties, can go beyond those shoes. He 
 has been given great credit for the way he honors 
 women because of these things, but he deserves no 
 credit at all. He has the most degraded opinion of 
 women. His bible teaches him she has no soul, but 
 is merely a piece of property below par with his 
 sheep or his donkey. His religion allows him to 
 trade her for anything he chooses when he tires of 
 her, and his bible tells him when she does not please 
 him to take her to the tent where the cattle stay, the 
 place where she belongs, and beat her until he is 
 satisfied. 
 
 This bible also tells him his allotted num- 
 ber of wives is four, but if he really desires more 
 "God is merciful and kind." When a girl baby is 
 born into a home he goes into a protracted spell of 
 mourning; his friends stop speaking to him and 
 often he divorces his wife or sells her, all because 
 she has become the mother of a cursed girl instead 
 of a boy. A poor little girl is born to a life that is 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 61 
 
 a curse. We saw little girls from four (not four- 
 teen) to twelve working in the brass factory ham- 
 mering out with their little hands the fine brass 
 ornaments we prize so highly. We saw girls hardly 
 grown building the new Turkish railroad under 
 guard of armed soldiers*. We saw hundreds of 
 girls and women carrying heavy pitchers of several 
 gallons, each full of water, on their heads, many 
 miles through the awful Syrian sun. Often we 
 saw women walking, carrying children or other 
 heavy burdens on long journeys, while their gallant 
 husbands rode beside them. 
 
 What does the leaving the slippers at the tent 
 door and the veiling of the face amount to in the 
 face of these things? Poor woman ! She is a brute 
 and a beast of burden. She looks old and haggard 
 before she is hardly grown. What can a people 
 amount to who treat their women the instruments 
 of the best and the purest in the human race 
 that way? And after all, as much as Christ has 
 done for men, how much more has He done for 
 women! We feel this more in foreign lands than 
 in our own. Our religion and civilization is the 
 only one the world has known that has raised wo- 
 men to the place where she belongs. 
 
 The Turk is the most religious person on the earth 
 and yet the most non religious. He prays five times 
 a day and yet he does not pray at all. In Constan- 
 tinople alone he has five hundred and fifty mosque3 
 or churches, with many others scattered over his 
 vast domains. Five times a day the priest mounts 
 the stairs to the minaret or belfry, comes out of a 
 
62 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 little door upon a little porch that extends all around 
 the tower and sends out upon the world his weird 
 call to prayer. He lifts up his voice in this call four 
 times, each time standing with his face toward the 
 four points of the compass. This is perhaps the 
 most doleful sound that falls on the ear of the 
 traveler in any land. At the sound the Mohamme- 
 dan stops whatever he is doing and prostrates him- 
 self in prayer, first turning his face toward Mecca, 
 his most holy city. He carefully spreads his rug, 
 robe or kerchief upon the ground or floor wherever 
 he is. Sometimes he is hindered for lack of room. 
 He can't go through his performances very well 
 in crowded quarters and often if he is on a train at 
 the hour of prayer he will wait until the train 
 reaches the next station and get on the ground be- 
 side the train where with one eye open on the con- 
 ductor and the other closed on Allah, he prays. It 
 takes him a long time to go through his prayer, and 
 the different actions, motions, postures and pros- 
 trations he goes through would run Father O'Hooli- 
 gan a close race when he grinds out pontificial mass 
 over the incensed corpse of an arch bishop. One 
 reason the Turk takes so much time to his prayers 
 is because it gives his lazy nature a chance five times 
 a day to stop whatever he is doing and loll out his 
 sleepy devotions. He does not seem to say anything, 
 it is all motions and at times he seems to be asleep. 
 If you are near he watches you with one treacherous 
 eye while he keeps the other closed to the world and 
 when he finishes his prayers you better keep both 
 eyes on him. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 63 
 
 It is hard to realize how burdened the people are. 
 There are practically no schools and the people live 
 in an ignorance and degradation that is appalling. 
 They haven't any home life and many of them have 
 no homes. They live in the fields until winter comes 
 and crowd in mud huts, dens in the ground or any- 
 where they can, like rats. Many of them do not get 
 enough out of life to call it living. They can often 
 be seen going to the shops with coins that look like 
 tobacco tags they have begged from the travelers, 
 stolen, worked for or gotten any way they can. 
 Some of these coins are worth as little as one-tenth 
 of a cent. They will pay one or two of these for. a 
 little piece of dirty bread, many months old some- 
 times, and a handful of pumpkin or melon seed and 
 upon this make their meal. 
 
 Some one asks why do they not rebel and over- 
 throw their accursed government? You might as 
 well ask why does not a team of mules overloaded 
 and abused, rebel against their master and set up a 
 new government. What can people so completely 
 crushed do against the government that oppresses 
 them? They haven't strength, brain or spirit to do 
 anything. 
 
 Thus southern Europe, much of it Asia, upper 
 Africa, Palestine and the vast desert lands of Ara- 
 bia, have for centuries been under the power of the 
 Turk. He holds the most strategic part of the earth, 
 unequalled in fertility, unbounded in commercial 
 possibilty, great in historic value, and he curses it, 
 while the civilized nations, desiring to carve the 
 Turkey but in their jealous hunger for the biggest 
 
64 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 piece can not determine who should wield the 
 knife. But the day of the Turk is nearly done. His 
 crescent that has shone so long over this great part 
 of the world in places rich and holy, is waning in 
 the west. Faster and shorter grows the gasping 
 breath of the sick man. Soon it will be hushed ; he 
 will be buried in the graveyard of Oblivion and upon 
 his grave a better civilization will spring to bless 
 the land he cursed so long. 
 
 In simple justice it should be said the Turk has 
 one good trait. He will not drink strong drink. It 
 is against his religion and his law. Many times we 
 sat with him at meals in the midst of clinking 
 glasses and flowing wine, but not once did we see 
 him touch it. 
 
 One of the wonders of the human race is how an 
 ignorant camel driver like Mohammed could arise 
 with a perverted form of the Christian religion, 
 mixed with the worse things of pagajnism, and 
 gather about him such a powerful dominion that has 
 blocked the march of civilization and held sway in 
 a large part of the world for centuries until it in- 
 cludes one-seventh of the people of the earth. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SOME INCIDENTS OP THE SECOND TOUR. 
 
 The best way to learn folks is to live with them. 
 Traveling with them is the same thing as long as 
 it lasts. When folks get down on the job of the 
 pilgrim's path, they show their good and bad points 
 better than when they ride their Supers out to hear 
 the Elder, all dressed in their dandy duds. It is 
 interesting to watch them getting acquainted. They 
 are much like animals. When new dogs come into 
 a kennel or new chickens in a yard everything halts 
 until they finish acquaintance. It is a delicate dan- 
 gerous time. If the strangers can be carefully 
 guided over the rocks until they really know and 
 understand one another, there will be no better 
 friends, but one slip will precipitate a fight that 
 will fill the kennel with fur, and the yard with 
 feathers. When two strange dogs stand staring 
 each other in the eye with tails erect and muscles 
 rigid, you may hit one of them with a pebble and 
 produce a conflict that will be heard in the next 
 township. Tourists are the same way. Everything 
 must halt until they have studied eccentricities, pe- 
 culiarities, defects and short comings and finished 
 talking about themselves and their folks. If while 
 this is in progress, the party gets on the boat and sea- 
 sickness comes the act of becoming acquainted is 
 greatly hastened. There is nothing that establishes 
 such a close point of contact and intimate acquain- 
 tance as to become sea sick together. When two 
 
66 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 strangers go through that they are friends forever 
 after. 
 
 Rudyard Kipling says there is a rocky hill on 
 the Road of Matrimony not far from the marriage 
 altar. It is the time when two strangers must 
 learn to fit into each others lives. Most divorce 
 wrecks come then. If they can successfully pass 
 this crisis, they nearly always live happily ever after. 
 The lot of the traveler is somewhat akin to this. 
 
 Out of our party of sixteen, we had three lady 
 bachelors, four men bachelors, two widowers and 
 seven preachers. There is no "spoilt baby" in the 
 class with a bachelor preacher, who has long had 
 kind sisters studying all his whims and satisfying 
 his every notion. He has had everybody to give 
 in for him and he is never required to give in for 
 others. He needs a bit of married life that meets 
 him at the door and demands he remove his shoes 
 before he comes in, and he should be required to 
 spend a whole day shopping with a "lady boss" 
 paying bills and carrying bundles, as he is told 
 to do. Then he needs to have her sit up in the pre- 
 sence of two former school girl friends and review 
 his peculiarities ala matrimony. 
 
 But back to the track We met in New York two 
 days before sailing to get all red tape trimmings 
 on and meet our fellow pilgrims. Of course, you 
 are interested in your room mate, will he snore on 
 the Ford style or as per the saw mill route? To 
 which one of the fifty-seven variety of assorted 
 nuts will he belong? What kind of a hobby will 
 he ride? Will he be a germ lunny? Or will he 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 67 
 
 have one young son at home who says smart things ? 
 (Perish the thought). Will he loll in the shade of 
 his family tree, and chew the rag of his pedigree? 
 And worst of all, will he Oh will he think he knows 
 some foreign language and try to use it on the 
 defenceless foreigners when he gets there? 
 
 My room mate was Rev. E. R. Welch, now pastor 
 of Chestnut Ave. Methodist Church, Asheville. And 
 here and now, let me say I tell tales only on folks 
 I like and love. The others I let coolly alone. I 
 have been offered $25.00 not to tell all I know on 
 Welch and even more to keep quiet on Williams, 
 but money can't bribe me. They are hereby per- 
 mitted, empowered and authorized to release any 
 and all things they can remember discover or in- 
 vent on me, but I will not be bribed, blackmailed, 
 begged or entreated to keep quiet about them. 
 
 Welch is a distinguished scholar and preacher. 
 He has an inquiring mind and a genius for dis- 
 covery. Human interest and human nature run 
 strong in his make up, and he is ever hunting a 
 point of contact. He holds first International Prize 
 for gathering a wider assortment of curios than 
 any man whoever held a passport in his hand. His 
 collection ranged from a left hind foot of a grave- 
 yard rabbit killed by a wild Arab in the land of 
 Moab to the rib of a departed Monk, who went to 
 purgatory from the banks of the Tiber. He brought 
 back a jug of Jordan water, which somebody sat 
 on and squashed. I shall never, oh Gertrude! never 
 forget the night in the London hotel when he dis- 
 covered that his jug was busted. I see him now 
 
68 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 picking out 3748 pieces of glass from his embryonic 
 museum and spreading his things over the room 
 to dry (His case was waterproof and the water 
 soaked in the things instead of running out). The 
 Smithsonian Institute didn't have much on that room 
 when his things were spread out. He had a cat fish 
 head from the River Jordan, rocks from Lebanon, 
 Switzerland and France, pebbles from the dead sea, 
 sand from Sudan, a snake skin from Syria, a goat 
 ear from Egypt and time would fail me to speak 
 of pictures, scarfs, beads and many things not in 
 the dictionary, the custom men draw on you in 
 New York. If I had the money, I would have paid 
 Welch $1,000. for the pure joy of watching the cus- 
 tom men nose in his conglomeration of curios. 
 
 My room mate is the first man to install a radio 
 machine in his pulpit so he can preach to every- 
 body absent as well as present. Perhaps before the 
 publishers can raise the money to get this book off 
 the press, he will have completed the radio mirrow 
 by which the folks can also see him as he preaches, 
 even tho they be a thousand miles away. I have been 
 told he rubbed the Moab rabbit foot on Bishop Dar- 
 lington and got his present appointment, and that 
 the Bishop has not been the same man since. 
 
 He was also a pollyglot linquist. He never saw 
 a soul he couldn't talk to in his native tongue. He 
 made himself so widely known that he will be receiv- 
 ing foreign callers of the friends he made for the 
 next ten years. We will hear from him some more 
 as these pages run on. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 69 
 
 We sailed on the Asia of the Faber Line. From 
 New York to the other side of the Atlantic and across 
 the Mediterranean we went on that boat, which was 
 our home for three full weeks. It was glorious but 
 it was hard on Hill billies who lived on land and not 
 on the sea. Leaving New York, we steamed to Pro- 
 vidence. Some policemen came on board and bribed 
 the stewards to sell them some liquor. I got the 
 number of their caps and if I am "pinched" in Pro- 
 vidence, I shall "squeel on these cops. 
 
 One of the finest gentlemen among us was Rev. 
 A. L. Stanford, pastor of one of the greatest churches 
 in North Carolina. The church runs over Sundays 
 and standing room is in demand. He has been a 
 great success as an Evangelist and caused many to 
 flee from the wrath to come and get ready for chang- 
 ing worlds. Imagine my surprise therefore when I 
 went in his room and found stretched upon the floor, 
 one of these water proof suits that looked like the 
 skin of a sea demon. The agent was painting in glo- 
 rious colors its excellence when the ship goes down. 
 You spread it out so your right foot enters A, your 
 left B, your right arm is put through C and then 
 with your left hand you pull cord 4, and clamp Z. 
 Then you button it up and as the boat sinks, you 
 float out. No water can enter it and it can't sink. 
 He rented it for $15.00 and carried it for 15,000 
 miles over desert sand and rocky wastes, from train 
 to train and the last I saw of him in New York, 
 he was taking it back to the office of the firm who 
 owns it. 
 
70 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD . . 
 
 He asked me what I thought of it and I told him 
 it was fine if he could induce the captain to keep 
 the boat from sinking long enough for him to find 
 a good place to read his instructions and put it on 
 properly. Then when he was floating out, he would 
 have to put up a sign to keep sharks and whales 
 from biting off his foot and letting in water enough 
 to sink him. But another thing that bothered me 
 was he always demanded eggs boiled just three 
 minutes, no more and no less and coffee a certain 
 temperature. I feared he would have trouble getting 
 served this way out there. 
 
 But another thing troubled me more. In this age 
 even common sinners cry "woman and children first." 
 It made me sad to think of the boat going down 
 with all the women and children sinking and a 
 bachelor Methodist preacher getting into a contrap- 
 tion like this and floating out to safety. He could 
 not take any lady with him. Perhaps when the 
 hour came, he would have placed a certain lady 
 snugly in this contraption and followed her the best 
 he could. But he proved himself a first class traveler 
 and brought more home than many others do. 
 
 It is a sad and solemn time when the boat sails 
 out. I went to the office for my mail as she settled 
 down to her speed and found a pile of mail that 
 friends had sent to me to the steamer. I had thirty- 
 five letters, cards and telegrams and two boxes of 
 chocolate candy from two young ladies. Among 
 these messages a friend sent this little poem, which 
 helped me all along the way 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 71 
 
 MY STAFF. 
 
 I have a staff to prop my way 
 As I plod onward thru the day 
 And if by stormy paths I fare, 
 I lean on it the staff of prayer. 
 
 And so I must toil and scale 
 The heights that frown above the vale 
 It aids my longing foot steps there 
 It buoys my heart the staff of prayer. 
 
 It is my comrade and my friend 
 And so shall be unto the end 
 Of every mortal toil and care, 
 Staff of my soul, the staff of prayer. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SNAPSHOTS ON THE SEAS WE GET SEA SICK. 
 
 For several days, we had a rough voyage and 
 our folks began to look puny. Their actions were 
 not all that could be desired. As it grew worse, 
 and one by one they looked pale and sick and sad, 
 my sympathy turned to them. They were a sad and 
 hopeless lot of tourists, lolling about with faces 
 pale, eyes watering and lips trembling. But I could- 
 n't do anything for them. I was like a woman who 
 went to the ship doctor saying, "Doctor, please do 
 something for my husband." "Madam" said the sea 
 dog, "just let him alone, he will do something for 
 himself presently." 
 
 I shall ever remember a bridle couple. The bride 
 looked so pale, pathetic and sick; she seemed to be 
 almost ready to give up the grip on life. She leaned 
 her throbbing head on the groom's shoulder, turned 
 her sick watery eyes toward his and in a feeble 
 voice said, 
 
 "Sugar pie, do you really love your honey lump?" 
 He nodded his aching head, and answered in the 
 affirmative while a hot fluid filled his mouth. She 
 grew quiet a moment and then turning toward him 
 with a sicker look than before said, 
 
 "Honey I thought that would make me feel better 
 but it didn't." 
 
 While they were at their worst, I penned the fol- 
 lowing lines, which I read to them when they grew 
 strong enough. The poetic merit is not much, but 
 the description is accurate. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 73 
 
 I took a trip one time across the briny deep 
 
 For of the big old world, I longed to have a peep. 
 
 I had my bag and baggage and a passport in my 
 
 hand, 
 As I turned my back that day upon my native land. 
 I sure was feeling bully as I stood upon the deck, 
 And saw the tug boat take that steamer by the neck 
 My face was looking outward to lands that lie afar 
 As I dreamed of scenes resplendent beneath the East- 
 ern Star. 
 
 She turned her prow outward toward the rising sun 
 
 And I pranced upon that deck, ready to have some 
 fun. 
 
 But the sea was getting angry, and the billows roll- 
 ing high 
 
 And my nogging it was aching as the waves went 
 dashing by. 
 
 My stomach felt just like the land of the Russian 
 Red, 
 
 And it seemed to me ten demons were dancing in 
 my head. 
 
 The sky was looking awful and the world was turn- 
 ing round, 
 
 The sea looked like perdition and the winds made 
 fiendish sound 
 
 Then a slimy, creeping serpent crawled right up 
 into my throat, 
 
 And I knew right then the ocean would surely get 
 my goat. 
 
74 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 My mouth was tasting bitter with a devilish awful 
 taste 
 
 As I took me to my stateroom in the greatest pos- 
 sible haste. 
 
 Then I longed for tera firma with a sad, pa- 
 thetic wish 
 
 As I hung upon the railing looking at the fish. 
 
 It is interesting to study the characters on board. 
 Here are two old Jews man and wife journeying 
 back to Jerusalem in their old age to stand on holy 
 ground and let their dust mingle with the soil of 
 the Holy City when their hearts stand still. Every 
 day they spend much time reading their Hebrew 
 Bible and praying to the God of Israel. They are 
 very attentive to each other. Both are old and not 
 long for earth's Pilgrim Path. What is more pa- 
 thetic than devout Jews of God's chosen race, who 
 will not accept God's Saviour? 
 
 Here are two sweet and bright little Portugese 
 girls, who were born in America, eleven and thir- 
 teen. Their mother is dead and an aunt is taking 
 them to Lisbon to put them in a convent. They are 
 nice and full of life. We talked with them a great 
 deal. What a strange idea of religion to take chil- 
 dren like these and confine them to gloomy prisons ! 
 
 There are many of the better class of Syrians re- 
 turning to their native land. Some have been in 
 America several years and with their usual thrift 
 and economy, have saved money to take home for 
 investments. Some are going back to look for loved 
 ones, they have not seen or heard from since the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 75 
 
 war. They are thoroughly Americanized. Here is 
 one from Macon, Ga. He has two little tots by the 
 name of Joe Brown Maroon and Hoke Smith Ma- 
 roon, showing that he caught the spirit of Georgia 
 politics and honored two of that State's Governors. 
 He begged us to go home with him to the Lebanon s 
 and visit him for several days. He meant it and 
 would have given us all styles of Eastern hospitality. 
 
 NADIA ABRAHAM. 
 
 No character on board was more charming to 
 me than Abraham. One day with a cheery smile, 
 a soft voice and a gleam of his brown kindly eye, 
 he bade me "good morning." I was much with him 
 after that and the more I saw him, the more the 
 charm of his heroic soul uplifted me. Gradually I 
 got his story from him. His people were christians 
 in Mesopotamia. His good mother and father died 
 a few years ago and he and his brother went to 
 America, leaving two brothers and two sisters be- 
 hind them. One brother, who was a missionary, was 
 slaughtered by the Turks. The other brother, also 
 a minister, remained at his post, but had to send 
 his family to Egypt for safety. He has not been 
 able to see them for years. 
 
 Abraham saved his money and was in the steer- 
 age of this boat, sleeping in a place no better than 
 a stable and eating food hardly fit for pigs, to save 
 his money to send himself and nephew to school, 
 while preparing for the ministry. A letter from 
 him a few days ago, "says he is in the University in 
 
76 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Beyrout. He loved a sweet Armenian lass and one 
 day, she was to be his but when the brutal Turks 
 drove the women and children out like cattle on 
 the long road of deportation to death and horrors 
 far worse, they laid rough hands on Abraham's 
 sweetheart and he has never heard from her since. 
 
 He took us thru the steerage, and we held services 
 for the folks. It was a strange service on the deck 
 of the boat as we sailed right on into the rising sun. 
 I preached once and the other preachers helped. 
 Abraham acted as interpreter. At the conclusion, 
 a Mohammedan, a Greek Catholic and a Roman 
 Catholic also took part, and Abraham said they were 
 speaking words of appreciation for our interest in 
 them and for the messages we brought as well as 
 paying high tribute to the ideals and Christianity 
 of America. ! 
 
 When I reached Egypt, a handsome and court- 
 eous young man called for me one night at the hotel. 
 He was Abraham's nephew. He had been advised 
 of our coming and was there to offer his services 
 as a guide. He also brought invitations from his 
 mother for us to visit their home and take tea. 
 Rev. C. M. Pickens and myself went. As we received 
 their christian hospitality and gracious manners, 
 we felt we were in the presence of God's noblemen. 
 I have not met finer or more heroic lads than 
 Abraham and this boy Gilbert. I wish some mail 
 would bring me money to help them in school. What 
 a great investment! 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 77 
 
 THE SINGING SYRIAN. 
 
 He is singing his song tonight weird, trembly, 
 soft, quivering, like Orientals sing. The moon runs 
 low and the breeze of the Mediterranean is soft and 
 dreamy, while the bright stars shine on us. There 
 he stands, up toward the prow where he sleeps on 
 deck at night. He pours from his lips his soulful 
 song. I was taking a stroll on deck with Abraham 
 before I slept and I paused to ask what song this 
 youth was singing. His song was not a lamentable 
 wail of Jeremiah or an outward howl of inward 
 pain. His food was the kind poor dogs not rich 
 dogs eat but he was glad to get it. His bed was 
 blanket on the hard deck but he was happy while 
 some in the First Class with the best they could 
 buy, were growling all the time. 
 
 I wasn't much struck on his music but it was 
 better than I have heard choirs deliver with the 
 anthem wiggle wobble and the tenor toe dance as 
 they do the chromatic scale like a monkey on a lad- 
 der. But I wanted to know the song he sang. It 
 was, of course, I might have known a love song. 
 He was nearing his native hills and his heart was 
 throbbing. He was singing to his Syrian lassie up 
 near the Lebanon cedars as the boat, plowing thru 
 the blue waters, brought him nearer home. He shut 
 his eyes and sang and dreamed. What was a hard 
 bed and harder bread to him when his soul was sail- 
 ing in Loveland and Dreamland ? Let him sing. If 
 I had known the tune, I would have joined in. 
 
78 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 JOE JABER, THE DRUSE. 
 
 He is a bright and inteligent son of the Hauran 
 hills where Abraham lived. He is going home after 
 nine years to see the country and find his mother. 
 His people are Druses a peculiar faith with a 
 mixture of Christianity and some heathen religion, 
 but Joe is a christian. He is thoroughly American 
 and had great admiration for our country. 
 
 He begged me to go home with him and be "A 
 religion man" to his people. If I would live with 
 them, they would take me as one of their tribe and 
 all my wants would be supplied. Hospitality rules 
 them. They do not sell to one another. All is gifts. 
 I am sure I would have found it even so. Then Joe 
 said with his charming broken speech. 
 
 "Me no like our religion man. He tells us God 
 hates other people, and we must hate them. But me 
 like American religion man. He tells us God is love 
 and we must love one another. Me go to church in 
 Ohio. Religion man tell people to give money to 
 send food and clothes and doll babies to little girls 
 in Syria. American girls have these but ours not. 
 I cry and say that the religion man for me." 
 
 What a telling beautiful tribute! And what a 
 fine example of a Macedonian call! I left Joe in 
 Beyrout but one night he walked in the hotel at 
 Damascus. He had found us and we received him 
 as a guest of honor. He gave Bro. Welch and my- 
 self each a beautiful Damascus brass vase for our 
 wives. He had a curious looking Kimona clad di- 
 gnitary with him, who looked like he might be a 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 79 
 
 Druse Presiding Elder, and as he and Joe departed 
 for the Hauron, I had a lingering suspicion there 
 might be a wedding brewing. Oh! how I wish T 
 could have been best man. 
 
 EATING THE EUROPEAN PLAN. 
 
 There are three kinds of eating The American 
 plan, which is pay for it before you get it ; European, 
 pay for it both before and after you get it; The 
 Ethiopian, get it any way you can. All of them have 
 merits and demerits. 
 
 It is not polite to kick about food away from 
 home. It is a sure sign we haven't much at home 
 and then it accompishes nothing but hurts your toes 
 like most kicking. European fare on the whole is 
 good. If there was some way to eliminate 97% 
 percent of the style and take the starch out of the 
 Bourbons and Dukes who are called waiters, it would 
 help. The biggest trouble is, you get no breakfast 
 save a cup of coffee and a hard roll, and at luncheon 
 and dinner, it takes three hours to eat the ceremony 
 and the food. They have a mania for changing plates 
 and washing dishes. They will lug in plates big 
 enough for a roast turkey and implements sufficient 
 for a barbecue and all the food that comes with 
 that course, will be a piece of cheese as big as a 
 domino with a smell as big as abattoir. Macaroni 
 herbs and long tail coats are much in evidence. 
 There are fifty-seven variety of cheese. Some are 
 dead and some very much alive. There is one kind 
 that is said to be confined in an air tight iron cage 
 
80 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 between meals and tied on the table at meal time. 
 To like it is a cultivated taste but you are liable to 
 lose all your friends and all respect for yourself 
 during the process of cultivation. It is best to use 
 a gas mask when you attack it. 
 
 It is said no waiter is admitted to the waiter's 
 union until he can stand in one postion for seven 
 minutes without showing signs of intelligence. And 
 the chief waiter Oh boy, he has more dignity than 
 the Arch Bishop of Cranberry and the Duke of 
 Spaghetti combined. I am writing particularly of 
 Italy. 
 
 An illustration. In one city, we saw the head 
 waiter at night, and told him we would breakfast 
 at 7, and would like so many cups of coffee and so 
 many of tea. When we entered the dining room, 
 they looked at us as much surprised as if we were 
 pre-historic animals. They all stood stiff at atten- 
 tion with an air that we were intruders not welcom- 
 ed. We sat down and they retired in orderly form. 
 After a conference, the head waiter advanced, bowed 
 stiffly and asked our business. We told him we 
 wanted breakfast, which consisted only of a certain 
 number of cups of coffee and tea with bread and 
 butter which was ordered the night before. He 
 went to the kitchen and was gone long enough to 
 parch coffee and brew tea. When at last he re- 
 turned from his vacation, some one asked him for 
 a scrambled egg. He said they were extra and they 
 did not know how to scramble them. He was or- 
 dered to bring three boiled eggs. Then all of them 
 stopped to figure the cost of three boiled eggs, made 
 
K 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 81 
 
 out the bill and presented it before the egg was 
 boiled while all the others waited. Then someone 
 called for a drink of water. This waiter reported 
 the breach of manners to the chief, who advanced 
 like a cardinal and asked what the confusion was 
 about. He went back to the kitchen, was gone four 
 minutes and returned with a menu with fifty-seven 
 variety of strong drink. We begged, we lost patience 
 but never got water that morning. They cannot 
 understand why folks want water. 
 
 In Belgium, I went all day under a burning sun 
 unable to get a drink of water. I went to a lass 
 in front of a home and asked of her a cup of water. 
 She offered me whiskey, wine, beer, milk, tea. When 
 I refused and asked water, she threw back her head, 
 gave a peculiar laugh and said, "Water"? "No 
 water." 
 
 This Italian hotel is one of the finest in all Europe 
 as is proven by the fact that the Carusoes were 
 there when we were and Lady Astor was expected 
 the next week. Perhaps this is why they were going 
 so strong on stiff stuff and then perhaps we Demo- 
 cratic Americans appeared so green and lacking in 
 the exalted atmosphere of peers and nobles, that we 
 just shocked them beyond recovery. They were 
 keen, however, after tips and I handed out this one 
 complimentary from the party. 
 
 Here's to the waiters of the Palace Hotel 
 
 With their long tail coats, they cut quite a swell. 
 
 Like dukes and nuts and Royal rakes, 
 
 They look you over while maccaroni bakes. 
 
82 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 They stand at the table three times a day 
 With their long tail duds getting in the way 
 You may be hungry and want a piece of bread, 
 But no such idea ever enters his head. 
 
 You long for water and ask for a drink, 
 
 He looks at you blank, unable to think. 
 
 He has booze and beer, and all kinds of wine 
 
 But never heard of water when folks come to dine. 
 
 He stands like a shadow of a ghostly witch 
 With never a move, save a coat tail switch, 
 This wonderful Lord of this beautifull Bay, 
 The tourists must face when they dine each day. 
 
 You get some coffee, but cold and strong 
 
 After you have waited and waited long. 
 
 You can't drink with your fingers and ask for a 
 
 spoon 
 He looks at you queer, like he thinks you a loon. 
 
 They are waiters because they wait and they wait, 
 And you wait, and you wait and you wait and 
 
 you wait, 
 As you sit at the table by the beautiful Bay 
 And beg for your rations three times a day. 
 
 There is no auger, no matter the bore, 
 That could put in an idea not there before. 
 Boob McNutt is a star of the first magnitude 
 Compared to you in your dress prelude. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 83 
 
 I know what you ask with your speechless lips, 
 Your only thought is thinking of tips, 
 And there is one good tip I long to bestow 
 On you knights of the soup bowl before I go. 
 
 But all hotels and all service of our tour was not 
 like this. Service in Switzerland, France and es- 
 pecially in England far surpassed this. But to me 
 the service and the food was enjoyed far more in 
 Palestine and Egypt than in these other countries. 
 The hotel proprietors were more cordial and the 
 waiters more human and considerate. From the 
 time we landed in Syria until we closed the journey 
 of this section and embarked in Egypt, I had no 
 fault to find with our food and our service. They 
 too believe in ceremony, courses and dish washing 
 but they are not as stiff and dehumanized as some 
 other European public servants. 
 
 The food and service this year, was far better 
 than in 1914, due to western notions that reached 
 them during the war as well as to the fact that 
 they have long been without tourists and are glad 
 to see them. As far as you see in the markets and 
 hotels, the war has done little hurt to things. Food 
 is high but native products everywhere are cheaper 
 than at home. American products are high of course. 
 
 A great ghost that haunts the tourist is the vi- 
 cious tipping system. And yet I must register my 
 experience in this matter was not as disagreeable 
 beyond the ocean as in New York. I was threatened 
 cursed and ridiculed at the pier there for not deliver- 
 ing heavy tips after I had paid all that was agreed 
 
84 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD . 
 
 upon for transportation and this by the man with 
 whom I dealt. He did not get it. Now all your 
 regular tipping is provided for by an arrangement 
 that always adds 10 per cent, to your bill for tips. 
 But even then, there is enough tipping demanded 
 to make it interesting. This does not include the 
 steamer service for then some require so much more 
 attention than others, that it is best to leave this 
 with the individual. 
 
 The stewards and servants are to be pitied. They 
 receive small pay and have a hard time and we found 
 them appreciative and satisfied with a every little 
 sum. I must again say that Italy did not measure 
 up to the others in these matters. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SOME OTHER INCIDENTS MY LOST CHEESE. 
 
 I own up to a lot of natural and unnatural de- 
 pravity. Like most people, I admit some low and 
 depraved tastes. One of these is a strong liking 
 for all the cheeses of the Old World. The greater 
 claim that cheese can make to antiquity and the 
 dark ages, the better I like it. I have no patience 
 with over fastidious folk, who refuse to sit at a 
 table with a cake of Limberger after its whiskers 
 are gray or frown on Comembert and Roqueford 
 because of the streaks of yellow and green running 
 through them. 
 
 A friend in Jerusalem, knowing my taste in this 
 direction, did a gallant and courteous thing. He 
 brought me a ten pound cake of his home made 
 cheese that was old enough to talk. In fact that 
 was what it was doing. It was strong enough to 
 force Henry Cabbot Lodge out of the Senate and 
 put the quietus on George Harvey. He put this 
 cheese in a strong metal bucket, sealed it so it would 
 be air tight, then placed it in a strong basket and 
 tied it with a rope. When he gave it to me. I heard 
 a sloshing noise and he informed me as near as I 
 could understand that this was the embalming fluid 
 to "keep" it. But it didn't keep it. Later on, I had 
 occasion to remember his caution, not to let any air 
 get in it or any of the odor get out. 
 
 I carried the basket from Jerusalem down to 
 Egypt, via Beersheba and Gaza. I guarded it like 
 
86 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 it was a precious treasure, and often dreamed of 
 supping coffee as I ate it at my home far away. 
 When we reached Kantara, the Egyptian border on 
 the Suez, we had to go thru the Customs House. 
 That is always fun and it was more so this time for 
 the officer was a typical Englishman of the Duke 
 of Lancaster pattern with up curled mustache like 
 the Earle of Essex wears. He couldn't see a joke 
 if you would slap him in the face with it. He ex- 
 amined all of us as we passed and when my pe- 
 culiar shaped basket, tied with a rope passed in 
 full review under his official eye, he asked in a voice 
 like it came from the tower of London, 
 
 "What ave you in ere? Hany hexplosives or 
 hintoxicants?" 
 
 "Yes sir!" I meekly replied, "Both." 
 
 "Let me 'ave hit." 
 
 I passed it to him and he examined it, thump- 
 ing the basket. He then asked me again what it 
 was. I told him that it was Arabic Cheese. He 
 took one step backward and motioned me forward 
 without a word. As I moved on, I thought how well 
 I could smuggle in a million dollars worth of dia- 
 monds by putting them in a bucket of cheese. 
 
 I carried my basket two thousand miles up to 
 Milan, Italy, where the present Pope was at that 
 time Presiding Elder. As I slept, I had it by my 
 bed and as I toured on, it went by my side. I did 
 not let my fellow travelers know what it was, for 
 touching this cheese, people are divided into two 
 classes, those who like it and those who do not. And 
 the feeling is very intense, conviction strong and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 87 
 
 lines of division marked. I didn't want any division 
 or argument in the party. Rev. E. R. Welch did 
 know but he was better to me than I would have 
 been to him in not telling it. 
 
 But at Milan, my cheese came to grief, almost 
 disrupted the party and was in a fair way of raising 
 international questions that could not have been 
 settled at the Hague Conference. Smaller things 
 than that, have caused wars. 
 
 The waiters at the Milan hotel were typical spiked 
 tailed, dining room dudes. They stood about like 
 the statute of Lord Nelson in Trafalger Square. Dig- 
 nity stood out like horns on their faces. It was 
 impossible to get one to see or do anything out of 
 the routine. It was beyond all their ken to under- 
 stand how anyone would want a drink of water 
 when he could get Milan Gin. They stood, stared 
 and thought but most of it was just standing and 
 staring. A craving passion for vengeance seized 
 me and I wanted to do something to them that would 
 shock them. I am sure I did it. I am only sorry 
 I was not there to see what they did when it began 
 to dawn on them there was something rotten in 
 Denmark and Milan. 
 
 As we started for the train, I discovered my 
 cheese box was leaking, and I have already said, 
 air must not get to it. I think some enemy did a 
 dirty deed and punctured the bucket while I slept. 
 I have offered $100.00, for his capture and if I find 
 him, I am sure when the Bishop calls my name and 
 asks, "Is there anything against him," my Presiding 
 Elder will arise and answer, "There is." 
 
88 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 I well knew this cheese would not be tolerated in 
 a semi-civilized country twelve hours after it got 
 out of that bucket. I had to do something and do 
 it quick. If necessity is the mother of invention, 
 the old lady mothered me. While the Dukes of 
 Macaroni were rubbing their palms for tips, I stole 
 back into a dark pantry room deposited my leaking 
 cheese, covered it with some bags and hurried for 
 the waiting carriages. 
 
 I grieved over my lost cheese but the loss was 
 somewhat lightened when I tried to picture the scene 
 at that hotel as the odors from that pantry floated 
 out on the breezes of sunny Italia, and smote these 
 dignified dukes in the face. I wonder Oh I won- 
 der what that head waiter said, what he did and 
 how he gesticulated? I wonder what the tourists 
 thought. Perhaps the health officers and the police 
 came in to investigate. I have almost become re- 
 conciled to the loss in drawing this picture. And 
 as I have thought it over, I decided perhaps no one 
 punctured the can. 
 
 Perhaps it just stunk the bottom out of the basket. 
 
 CHEESE A LA TURK. 
 
 I shall never forget the time and place when I was 
 introduced to real Turkish cheese. It was far in the 
 interior of the Old World. The morning was very 
 early and sleep had been poor and short. Many 
 nerve racking things had brought us to the point 
 where it would be hard to live with our in-laws and 
 out-laws. A yellow streak was running through our 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 89 
 
 constitution and by laws and our mouths had a taste 
 like we had been eating mud. 
 
 A spiked tail coat worn by the Knight of the hash 
 bowl sat me down in a corner of the room and went 
 off as stiff as if he had a golf stick down his back 
 with his nose pointing toward Greenwich. He 
 brought in an English lady and sat her at my table. 
 She had her husband with her. She seemed to take 
 him wherever she went. The Duke then went off 
 and remained long enough to make several pastoral 
 calls for in these hotels, they serve you while you 
 wait. He returned with a box of real Turkish cheese. 
 I had never met it before nor have I met it since. 
 It has overtaken me a few times but not met me. 
 But unlike some other folks I have met, I have not 
 forgotten it. It had a pointed and pungent im- 
 pression on me. It is served as an appetizer before 
 breakfast. It also cuts down food consumption 
 among tourists and adds to the savings of the hotel 
 proprietor. 
 
 When he opened the coffin, I was sorry he didn't 
 have the burial without it. The lady put her hand- 
 kerchief to her nose and told her husband to get 
 some fresh air. Like all well raised husbands, he 
 obeys his wife and he hurries off to get some. I 
 knew he would not find any for they do not have 
 it in that part of the world. As he returned without 
 it, I took the cheese box and dipping out a big 
 spoonful placed it in my plate. The lady looked 
 sicker than ever and feebly asked, 
 
 "What are you going to do with it?" 
 
 "Eat it Madam," I replied, "Do you think I am 
 going to wear it on my coat for a bouquet?" When 
 
90 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 I finished, she said in a faltering voice, "How does 
 it taste?" 
 
 "Just like it smells Madam," I answered, "Will 
 you have some?" 
 
 Then I made the following little speech to my 
 comrades. "You folks do not seem to realize where 
 you are. We enter Turkey presently. It is the 
 most unsanitary country in the world. The air is 
 literally laden with germs of deadly disease. Bu- 
 bonic Plague and Yellow Fever lade the air and 
 germs of Small Pox and Typhus run rampant every- 
 where. The only thing that Science has ever dis- 
 covered that can cope with the deadly germs of the 
 many maladies is this cheese. Therefore the Govern- 
 ment requires you to eat it. If you have its odor 
 on your breath and come in contact with an epi- 
 demic of plague or fever, the germs break their 
 necks falling over one another getting out of the 
 way and appendictis and hook worm can't turn a 
 peg when you are trying to digest this stuff." When 
 I finished my eloquent speech, she said if that was 
 the case to pass it over and she would try some of 
 it but when she got a close whiff she pushed it 
 back saying almost in tears, "I will catch anything 
 before I will eat that stuff." 
 
 THE PRISONER OF PIREUS. 
 
 As our boat stood in the harbor of Athens, we 
 noted two boats loaded with prisoners from the 
 Turkish army. Greece and Turkey were then at 
 war and the battle was raging. The boats were not 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 91 
 
 far from ours and some of our Syrian friends con- 
 versed with some of the prisoners. Several gave 
 their names and homes and begged us to notify 
 their families they were still alive if we reached 
 Syria. Some of them had not communicated with 
 their loved ones for over five years. Our hearts 
 were moved for these poor fellows and we longed 
 to help them. What horrors they must have suffered 
 forced against their will into the Turkish army with 
 its awful life, as well as a prison ship that was little 
 better. We heard a splash in the water and strokes 
 of a swimmer. One of them unable to resist the 
 temptation to try to reach our boat that was saik 
 ing to his home and loved ones, had leaped into the 
 water and was swimming toward us. Some of his 
 fellow countrymen let down a rope and after hauling 
 him in placed him in the hold of the ship. But his 
 liberty was short for an officer discovering his es- 
 cape came on our boat and carried him back to 
 prison. We tried to start a move that would give 
 them their liberty and hope it was not long until 
 they walked again their native hills and mingled 
 with their loved ones. 
 
 SNAP SHOTS ON THE BOAT. 
 
 The return trip on the Rochembeau was full of 
 interest. She is one of the most popular boats afloat 
 and all her rooms were full. They came from every 
 class and style, from Francisson monks to professors, 
 who believed their fathers were monkeys. We had 
 French girls coming to America to enter school, 
 
92 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 bent on bringing French culture of the smoking, 
 drinking variety and also a head of the department 
 of French in Blank University, who was returning 
 from a vacation in France. He explained his con- 
 duct by saying he had a very trying year and was 
 relaxing, and the old boy was well up on the French 
 style of relaxation. 
 
 The sea is ugly and the storm is raging, so we 
 must go inside. We will keep our minds off of 
 other troubles by studying the passengers. We are 
 in the writing room. It is full of folks writing and 
 reading. Every morning a musician, who thinks 
 folks are charmed with his gas and jazz, takes the 
 stool at the piano, presses the accelerator and opens 
 wide the exhaust pipe. It was horrible. He went 
 from one side of the key board to the other with 
 his gyrations, his coat tail keeping time to gymnastic 
 steps over the chromatic scale. He did it like a leg- 
 horn rooster, scratching in straw. There would 
 have been no difficulty in organizing a mob to throw 
 him overboard and make fish food out of him. We 
 just lacked a leader. 
 
 Early one morning while I was waiting for the 
 Monk Presiding Elder to come into the room to hold 
 quarterly conference, which he did at 6 :30, I found 
 myself alone. I had time for meditation and action 
 and I did both. I filled the piano with paper, care- 
 fully packing all the keys back in the internals of 
 the machine. At the appointed time the performer 
 bore down upon us with music rolls, port folios, 
 and a silly self conscious look of self exaltation. He 
 bowed and got ready. He screwed the stool to the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 93 
 
 proper pose, pulled up his trousers, fixed his coat, 
 winked his eyes and slammed his fingers down on 
 the keys, hoping to make a noise that would drown 
 a thunder storm. But instead, he heard only a dull 
 and heavy thud. Again and again he tried, raising 
 all the keys, opening the throttle, turning on the 
 magnetor and everything. As he thumped, he turned 
 his head sideways and listened like he was listening 
 for his master's voice. He then opened the machine 
 and spent about an hour removing a waste basket 
 full of paper from the lungs and liver of the in- 
 strument. He said some things in French which 
 were never translated to me. 
 
 PROF. A. MONKEY. 
 
 There he sits. He teaches in some Eastern Uni- 
 versity. He wears side whiskers, big automobile 
 tire glasses, and a know it all look. He has ten 
 hens about him. He, rooster like, is scratching for 
 bugs. When he finds one he holds it up before the 
 hens, they chuckle over it and when they try to peck 
 it, he swallows it while he struts off muttering, 
 "Don't you think I am a smart fellow." 
 
 This morning they sat near me as I wrote and 
 I heard and saw. I found delight in watching this 
 rooster scratch and hearing the hens cackle over 
 the bugs he found. It is fine fun to watch a man 
 make a fool of himself if he is not your husband. 
 He scratched in the field of Literature, Music and 
 Politics. Then he hopped up on the fence, crowed 
 loudly to the hens and jumped into the field of Re- 
 
94 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD . . 
 
 ligion. A know it all always heads there. He 
 knows more about Religion than all the folks who 
 have had it or the God who made it. 
 
 He was dead sure the Bible was man made and 
 inspiration a myth. Man was not created, he evo- 
 luted from some atom. We were all once monkeys. 
 I had never been tempted to believe that until then. 
 As I looked at him, more and more the features 
 and actions of a baboon stood out. He smacked 
 his mouth like a monkey, and had that strange look 
 you see in the eyes of the inmates of the Zoo. He 
 certainly had not evoluted very far in the matter 
 of looking silly. 
 
 Then he said he believed all of us have existed in 
 some other state quite a number of times. As I 
 listened I had a prehistoric impression I had known 
 him somewhere. It struck me I might have been 
 an ant eater in South America a long time ago which 
 accounts for poking my nose in other people's busi- 
 ness. I used to range along a tropic river where an 
 old gray monkey roosted on a tree, scratching cooties 
 and blinking in the sun. I recognized the professor. 
 One of the women there was then a parrot in the 
 hollow tree. 
 
 Then the Doctor said the soul was just animat- 
 ed emotion. Religion is the physic urge after some 
 higher brain cell. All of which reminds us of the 
 Scott, who spoke to the student who would not be- 
 lieve a thing he could not see and understand, 
 "Young man, have you ever seen your brains? Do 
 you believe you have any?" Then he added "You 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 95 
 
 and I know everything. You know ivey thing but 
 what a fool you are, and I know that." 
 
 THE MANNISH WOMAN. 
 
 She eats in front of me. She gives me the creeps. 
 The shivers run over me and ice bugs make a skating 
 rink out of my spine when I get close to her. She 
 is the woman who tries to look like a man, talk like 
 a man and dress like a man. Her hair is short and 
 her tongue is so long, I don't see what she does 
 with it when she is not using it. Her voice is like 
 a bishop at conference. She stands with her hands 
 on her hips with that "dog gone it" pose and smokes. 
 Her face is florid from drink. If the court is ready 
 to pass sentence on me, Your Honor please send me 
 to live with hounds or hogs or exile me to the jungle 
 of Africa where the cooties crawl, the hyenas bawl 
 and the stinging serpents look at me with fiery eyes 
 out of the dark as they wait for me to sleep so they 
 can suck my breath. Do anything to me Judge, but 
 deliver me from a thing like that. 
 
 THE OLD BIRDS. 
 
 She eats at the next table. She is a gray haired 
 American woman. She spends all her time in the 
 saloon and smoking room, drinking and smoking. 
 Her specialty is to coach young women and men in 
 this French Culture in which she is a specialist. 
 She has not been sober since she boarded the ship 
 and maybe a long time before. Her eyes are bleared 
 
96 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 and she wears a sinful luring look. She looks for 
 coarse things and laughs loudly at them while she 
 drinks and gambles. A fallen man is a sad sight but 
 a fallen woman must make angels weep. 
 
 There was another group of American girls. They 
 were college girls, touring France to get some cul- 
 ture, and they got it. They had marks of nice sweet 
 girls once but the marks were fading fast. They 
 took one grand plunge in drinking, carousing and 
 smoking.. At the end of the journey, they looked 
 like hags faded, haggard old. With them was a 
 young French lady gayest of all. She was vivac- 
 ious and pretty. She married an American officer 
 in the war and was returning to him from her 
 summer in France. She drank continually, danced 
 and led the rough house day and night, like a wild 
 thing who had thrown all modesty and restraints 
 to the winds. But the day before we reached New 
 York, she got herself together, made up her face and 
 met her mother-in-law with a gracious smile. The 
 lady seemed to be a nice cultured woman, and putting 
 her arms about her sweet daughter, placed her in 
 the auto and buzzed out into the city. 
 
a 
 
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 1-3 
 
 N 
 
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 o 
 
 a 
 M 
 
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CHAPTER X. 
 
 HITTING THE HIGH PLACES. 
 (1922) 
 
 Little space will be given to the tour of Contin- 
 ental Europe since the purpose of these pages has 
 been to linger longer on those spots more closely 
 associated with our Christianity. 
 
 We struck a storm coming from Egypt to Italy. 
 It took some of the spunk out of the folks and made 
 us several days late reaching Brendizee. We were 
 to reach this port at late afternoon but we were 
 2 :30 A. M. getting there. To transfer a party from 
 a steamer thru the Customs House, get rest and 
 sleep for them, as well as breakfast, and then trans- 
 fer bag and baggage across town to the seven o'clock 
 train for Naples all in four hours was a lively time. 
 
 After leaving Rome, we proceeded north to Flo- 
 rence. The northern section of Italy is very beau- 
 tiful. Florence is called the "Lily of the Arno," 
 and this fair city does bloom as a lily on the banks 
 of the river Arno. It holds some of earth's most 
 precious treasurers of art as well as the history 
 of many of the world's greatest artists. Elizabeth 
 Barrett Browning lived and died here and her body 
 rests in a quiet cemetery in the town. The tomb 
 of the great Michael Angelo, who designed St. 
 Peter's Cathedral is in the beautiful Cathedral of 
 Florence. The dust of Galileo likewise found its 
 resting place near by. 
 
98 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 But Florence is noted above all things because 
 it was the home of the great preacher Savonorola. 
 Here he lived and here he hurled with the fire of 
 John the Baptist his judgment fires against the 
 rulers of the House of Medici, the rulers of that: 
 Kingdom. In burning messages, as bold as Nathan 
 before David, and John before Herod, he hurled 
 the truth of repentance and right living into the 
 face of sinful rulers. No man ever set himself 
 more against the sins of his day, and like John 
 again, his head was the price of the sermons he 
 preached. 
 
 We stood with bared heads in the monastery 
 where this mighty man of God lived, and looked 
 on his books, his vestments and the place where 
 he prayed. Then we went to the tower where he 
 was imprisoned, and then to the gallows where 
 he died and the spot where in a rage they burn- 
 ed his body after which they cast his ashes on the 
 waters of the Arno. The river bore the ashes to 
 the seas and the tides have swept them on thru 
 the years all the while singing songs of the bless- 
 ings such heroes bring the world, and the flames 
 that enrapt his body have shown around the world 
 and by this light, a groping race has seen the way 
 to the cross. 
 
 Then we went in the chapel of the Medici where 
 in gorgeous state that outshines kjings, the vile 
 rulers, who sinned out their days and killed the 
 prophet of God, were laid away in state. There 
 are no tombs, mausoleums and monuments in all 
 the world that show greater wealth and art. They 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 99 
 
 were canonized while Savonorola was ostracised. 
 They were worshipped while he was burned. They 
 had him killed because they had the power and they 
 chafed under his condemnation. But the dieath 
 angel called for the House of Medici to stand be- 
 fore the Throne while their proud forms were en- 
 cased in perfumes and treasurers where as the 
 years go on, men behold their gorgeous glory. But 
 brighter than the light that shines about their 
 tomb, shines the light of the Truth from the soul 
 of Savonorola as thru the years his spirit goes 
 marching on. 
 
 From Florence we went to Venice. Most cities 
 have many things in common but they also have 
 something distinctive that puts each one in a class 
 by itself. Venice is in a class all alone. She has 
 no auto, no horse, no street car. Instead of board- 
 ing an auto or car to go down town, you step from 
 the door into a boat and glide over the water. We 
 went from the train to the gondolas near by and 
 passed down the grand canal by famous houses of 
 noted artists, glided under the Bridge of sighs 
 and arrived at the Royal Danielli hotel which was 
 our home while here. Any effort to picture Venice 
 as she is "Queen of the Adriatic" would be doom- 
 ed to failure. All I had read of Venice had not 
 pictured it as it is. The Venetians are handsome 
 and finely dressed. The ravages of war seem not 
 to have hurt them in these matters. I do not know 
 how so many of them get enough of the root of all 
 evil to cut such a swell. Perhaps their main trade 
 is skinning tourists. They seem to spend the most 
 of their time dressing, sporting and drinking. 
 
100 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 The Rialto in Venice s a noted spot made fam- 
 ous by Shakespeare in "The Merchant of Venice." 
 Then you must see the home of Robert Burns as 
 well as the Palace of the Doges, who were ancient 
 rulers of Venice. Here you will be overfed on art 
 and history, and will declare with Mrs. Sheba, you 
 didn't realize fifty per cent of it all. But you will 
 soon come to St. Mark's, one of the greatest cathe- 
 drals of the world, where you will feed the pigeons 
 and admire the wonders of this great building. St. 
 Mark's ranks with St. Peter's in Rome, St. Paul's 
 in London and the cathedrals of Florence and Milan, 
 which are the greatest church buildings in the 
 world. You will have admiration for a people who 
 build such temples to the worship of their God even 
 if you do think that worship staged and stilted. 
 
 OVER THE ALPS TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 It is a never to be forgotten trip to travel from Mil- 
 an, Italy to Lucerne, Switzerland. We left Milan 
 early in the morning and reached Switzerland on the 
 lake by lunch. I am sure all our folks will long re- 
 member that splendid dinner served by those nice 
 and courteous Swiss girls. This meal was served in 
 true home style and was more in that class of the 
 cooking Mother used to do. For often in these 
 lands do you eat things like Mother and Grand- 
 mother did not make. 
 
 After lunch, we boarded the boat for Lucerne, 
 steaming on that beautiful lake among lofty moun- 
 tains clad with snow rising out of the waters of this 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 101 
 
 magic lake. I have seen much of mountain secenery 
 and know we are likely to go in rapture over the 
 last thing we have seen, but in all calm, cool judg- 
 ment, I register my opinion that there is no moun- 
 tain scenery in all this world quite as charming 
 and beautiful as the Alpine scenery about the lakes 
 in Switzerland. As we sat upon the deck of that 
 boat an aeroplane rose and soared above us up and 
 out around the snow clad mountains. The heavy 
 timbered mountains green with life and charm ran 
 down into the very waters, while high above, the 
 perpetual snow lay heavy on the summits of the 
 lofty peaks. It is a picture unlike any other we had 
 seen or could see. 
 
 We reached the charming city of Lucerne on the 
 banks of the lake in the late afternoon and found 
 our home in one of the best hotels we had seen 
 anywhere. Everything seemed quiet, beautiful and 
 far removed from the sinful rabble and squabble 
 of the world. It is a delightful place to go and 
 stay awhile when you are tired and threadbare and 
 want to find your way back to nature and nature's 
 God. 
 
 It seems people who live in this Swiss country 
 ought to be noble people above the sordid things of 
 a sinful life. And the Swiss are a hardy rugged 
 people of clean life and strong character. They are 
 the best type of Continental Europe. It is a wonder- 
 ful thing in the Swiss history that when all the 
 rest of the world went mad with the hydrophobia 
 of war and came so near tearing down the pillars 
 of civilization on its head, the Swiss nation was 
 
102 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the only country that did not go crazy. In the 
 midst of all the mad ravages of war, they kept out 
 of it and attended to their own business at home. 
 They have no navy and a very small army only for 
 police duties. This is the most powerful example 
 favorable to disarmament and peace. 
 
 In leaving Switzerland, we passed thru some more 
 beautiful country, out of Switzerland into Alsace, 
 which was one of the bones of contention and which 
 country was won back to France after being held 
 by the Germans since 1870. 
 
 We reached Paris late at night, and found our way 
 to the St. James hotel. We spent several days in 
 Paris keeping busy, seeing al the wonders of this 
 great old city. To remember and record all the won- 
 ders seen in Paris would overtax the descriptive 
 powers of the Queen of Sheba. 
 
 I climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower, one thou- 
 sand feet into the air and from this lofty height 
 looked down on the great city, stretching along the 
 banks of the River Seine. The builder of this great 
 tower was told he could not build such a thing but 
 he did it and for a time lived in the top of it. 
 
 We went to the wonderful art gallery of the Lou- 
 vre and saw many of the great products of this 
 noted collection. We saw the car in which the ar- 
 mistice was signed which was a very interesting 
 relic of the great conflict. We saw the wonderful 
 war picture painted by great painters to reproduce 
 and save the history in a great picture running on a 
 great canvas all around a large ampitheater. Al- 
 most everyone of the leading characters are pre- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 103 
 
 served in life size natural form on that canvas. 
 Whatever glory the ancient artist may deserve for 
 the great masterpieces they have produced, there is 
 nothing that surpasses or even equals this great 
 war picture. 
 
 We saw the grave and tomb of the great Napole- 
 on. His war trophies and many conquered war flags 
 and banners are hanging about his gorgeous tomb 
 to tell the tale of the mighty deeds of the little Cor- 
 poral when he was marching triumphant over 
 nations and bringing the world cowering at his 
 feet. But the time came when the conqueror was 
 conquered. No matter how great and powerful the 
 conquering monarch may be, the time will come 
 when he will be conquered. There is a last great 
 foe who leads the conqueror off to prison and defeat. 
 There are solemn lessons of life and death, pomp 
 and power that comes to you as you stand beside 
 the tomb of the mighty Napoleon. 
 
 We also visited the great palaces of the Louis 
 and Marie Antoinette at Versailles near Paris. It 
 was interesting to stand in the midst of all this 
 splendor and review the tides and storms of the 
 French revolution. You see where poor Marie slept 
 her last night in the Palace before she was carried 
 out to death and you see some wonderful furnishings 
 and products of art. Here Louis XVI and Marie 
 bankrupted France and brought on the destruction 
 of the revolution on their own heads. To go thru 
 all the wonders of this gorgeous life of theirs makes 
 you feel that Solomon and all his glory was surely 
 second place compared to Louis and Marie. They 
 
104 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 put themselves above God and claimed to own and 
 operate the State. In reality they were themselves 
 the State. Everything, Royal robes, royal chariots, 
 crowns, and gold, glitter and glamour, finery and 
 splendor of millions and millions of dollars expended 
 to enable pampered Royalties to entertain thejir 
 whims is a staggering tale to tell. 
 
 But the end of all the gorgeous and extravagant 
 glory came. They pulled down the pillars of this 
 temple of splendour on their own proud heads and 
 at the same time, they almost destroyed the whole 
 fabric of the nation's life. 
 
 As we stood here in the gardens of Marie, we 
 looked upon a strip of woods a few miles away where 
 the German army was in their charge on Paris. 
 This brought home to us in a stern vivid reality 
 how near the Huns came of over-powering Paris. 
 
 IN BELGIUM. 
 
 Leaving Paris we caught the express to Brussels 
 and in a short time we were going thru the war zone. 
 On all sides, we saw the ravages of the brutal Huns. 
 The bleak ghostly skeletons of ruined houses told 
 the tale of the guns that wrought ruin on this fair 
 country. 
 
 It did not take us long after lunch to reach Brus- 
 sels. The capital of the Belgians is a large and 
 beautiful city. It is now full of life and the streets 
 are crowded with well dressed prosperous folks. 
 Whatever havoc the war wrought in Brussels, there 
 is no sign of it now to the passing view. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 105 
 
 We visited the King's Palace, Churches and other 
 public buildings built by King Leopold and others 
 and we rode out to the barracks and stood on the 
 spot where the barbarous Germans murdered Edith 
 Cavil for doing deeds of mercy. Reverently we 
 stood on the spot where they shot her to death by 
 order of the German brutes. Here also they mur- 
 dered many more Belgians, who were gulity of no 
 other crimes than that of being patriots. 
 
 We took one day for an auto drive thru Flanders 
 and the Belgium battlefields. The ruin of war is 
 awful and indescribable. It is easy to see why the 
 boys who went thru it have so little to say about 
 it as you travel along and picture the horror of the 
 campaign. 
 
 Everywhere you look is ruin. All the trees for 
 miles are dead, shot down by shell fire, blown up 
 by bombs or killed by gas. Miles and miles the 
 land is in trenches, dug outs and barb wire. 
 
 We passed one hill where after the battle 260,000 
 dead bodies were found. In a radius of forty miles 
 there are twenty-six cemetries. In one small strip 
 of woods, 16,400 Germans were killed and in another 
 place, we saw a cemetery where 7,500 German bodies 
 were buried. 
 
 We ate lunch in Ypres. To describe the ruin of 
 this town would not be possible. It was before the 
 war a prosperous city of 38,000. Not one house 
 was left standing. The church was shelled and de- 
 molished while the people were at worship and three 
 hundred and ten people were killed in the wreckage. 
 
106 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 All about us as we rested here at lunch, was ruin 
 and debris and the skeletons of buildings. 
 
 We also visited the big gun placed by the Germans 
 to shell Dunkirk twenty-four miles away. This 
 gun is still standing. It cost about $7,000,000.00 
 to build this gun and $20,000.00 each time it was 
 fired. This big gun along with Big Bertha was 
 intended to cause panic among the people and knock 
 the spirit out of them. People can never rise 
 above their spirit. When you have knocked the 
 spirit out of folks, you have conquered them. These 
 big guns throwing powerful shells many miles a- 
 way might not do much military damage but they 
 might play havoc with the morale and the spirit of 
 the people. But herein the Germans misjudged. 
 The Belgiums, French and English were not as easily 
 frightened as the Huns thought they were. Such 
 efforts only put new vim and life into the allies to 
 fight a greater fight. 
 
 The thing that impressed me most was the won- 
 derful ability the people have in coming back. The 
 progress that is being made in redeeming the sec- 
 tion devastated by war is far more rapid than one 
 would think. Already much of the war salvage 
 has disappeared and the country is being speedily 
 restored to its normal condition. In another year 
 the destruction wrought will almost disappear un- 
 der the heroic efforts of these brave people to rebuild 
 their stricken land. 
 
 It seems such a blow would be too much for a 
 people to overcome. To have your homes destroyed, 
 your lands ruined and many of your friends and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 107 
 
 loved ones killed until all your land was a grave 
 yard would seem to be too great a blow for a people 
 to overcome but not so with these people. With a 
 marvelous courage and faith they have thrown all 
 their souls into the rebuilding of their land. We 
 saw many men and women, who were employed by 
 the Government in the public work of clearing away 
 the ruin of war and restoring the public buildings. 
 For a small wage, they thus work for the nation all 
 day and going to their homes, they work far into 
 the night and are there soon in the morning clear- 
 ing away the ruins and building up their own homes. 
 Thus out of the ruin of their own country, they 
 are rapidly building a better and a greater country. 
 
 Many of the people were living in small metal 
 houses furnished by the Belgian and the American 
 Governments. 
 
 All the people were working men, women, chil- 
 dren and the dogs they were all working with a 
 vim and a cheerfulness in restoring their land. All 
 along the country roads and the towns and village 
 streets, we met dog carts pulling loads and burdens 
 and thus contributing their part to the rebuilding 
 of Belgium. One dog was trotting along pulling a 
 cart in which was a man, a boy and seven chicken 
 crates and he was a dog of ordinary size. 
 
 In Ypres amid all her ruins, there was a stir, a buzz 
 and a rush as everybody worked to restore the city. 
 Temporary shops had gone up selling refreshments, 
 souvenirs of the war and post cards. A people 
 with a courage like this and such a heart of hope- 
 fulness cannot be kept down, but soon will cause to 
 
108 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 bloom in the ruins of their stricken country, a 
 greater and more beautiful country than ever. 
 
 In the midst of the wreck and ruin of Ypres, I 
 saw a baby in his carriage. He was cooing his 
 baby coo and laughing his baby laugh and as I 
 looked on him in his strange surroundings I was 
 impressed with the lesson. He represents the spirit 
 of Belgium, the spirit of life the spirit which will 
 win. He is happy in the midst of wreck and woe. He 
 knows and cares nothng about the wreck. He is 
 looking forward and not backward. So the world 
 will look on and forget. The hurts will be healed. 
 Babies will be born, who will know naught of that 
 awful woe and the vitality of the race will make 
 this awful curse a stepping stone to higher and 
 better things. 
 
 IN ENGLAND 
 
 We went from Brussels to Bruges and took the 
 boat across the channel to Old England. It was 
 good to look on the white chalk cliffs of Dover and 
 inspiring to take that interesting ride from Dover 
 to London, thru that beautiful section of England. 
 
 We felt, more at home Hn Ejngland than any 
 place we had been because we were among our kith 
 and kin and these Britishers were our real cousins. 
 From these historic slopes a few centuries ago, my 
 sires sailed the rolling sea, landing in Virginia and 
 South Carolina, thus making me a product of the 
 New World and not the Old. 
 
 I have always admired the mother country and 
 her mighty civilization, which has been the greatest 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 109 
 
 government of the world if we measure the help it 
 has been to other nations. The English have their 
 faults plenty of them if we go fault hunting and the 
 same may be said of us. As individuals and as a 
 nation, they make blunders, but granting all this, 
 the English Government and her wonderful coloni- 
 zation has been a great blessing to the world. She 
 has had a genius and passion for building up and 
 civilizing the world. One of the most important 
 thing among nations is a friendship and bond be- 
 tween our own country and the English. Any man 
 in either nation, who is doing anything to cause 
 a breach between us, is a menance to the world's 
 peace and a blot on his own country. The English 
 races must hold the world together and save it if it 
 is saved and the greatest calamity that could come 
 to our two nations as well as to the rest of the 
 world is for a breach to come between us. 
 
 I am giving my own impressions formed from 
 my visit and years of study and observation. They 
 may or may not be accepted. As usual they are 
 simple, plain and frank. I confess there are some 
 things about my British cousins that strike me as 
 funny. Of course, they are slow to see a joke and 
 do not laugh very much. It may be they haven't 
 anything to laugh at. It is said they see nothing 
 funny in our movie comedies of knocking a man 
 in the head with a mallet until he looks like a fool 
 and throwing custard pies in the face of innocent 
 bystanders. When they first saw these things that 
 make Americans scream with hysterics, it is said 
 tiie London folks looked sad and were sorry for 
 
110 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the nut, who was knocked silly and the fellow who 
 had the pie thrown in his face. This may be to the 
 credit of the English and not to us. They still 
 glory in literature and great things while in America 
 now a real artist would starve while the biggest fool 
 became a multimillionaire. 
 
 It is also true that much of the talk the English 
 have is not English. It is about as hard to talk to 
 some folks in London as it is in Cairo. They seem 
 to chew it up and swallow it instead of spitting it 
 out like we do. You will not recognize your mother 
 tongue in many places when you go out to buy 
 some trifle and are told the price is "tippance" or 
 "thripence" you will have to get someone to tell 
 you they mean two pennies and three pennies. 
 
 It is also true, they are over-loaded with dignity. 
 A cab driver in London and a hotel porter and 
 waiter can put on more dog than a cabinet member 
 in Washington or a Governor at his inauguration. 
 The clerks in many of the stores are required to 
 wear high collars and long tailed coats while on 
 duty. The plain shirt sleeve Democratic ways and 
 spirit of America shocks them beyond measure. 
 They need some how to be shaken out of their 
 dignity. There is nothing on the earth more dig- 
 nified than a London policeman unless it is the men 
 who guard the King's Palace. I don't know 
 whether these officers unlimber in a riot or not. The 
 curse of the country is their craze for drink. They 
 are drinking themselves to death far too many of 
 them. The custom of having girls as bar maids to 
 dispense rum and lure men to ruin is a disgrace on 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 111 
 
 Great Britain. Multitudes swarm the saloons and 
 beer houses, even women and children. Let us hope 
 the day is not far distant when a better day will 
 dawn and Old England will redeem herself on this 
 point. 
 
 Now having said some things in the way of criti- 
 cism about the mother country, let me speak a bit 
 to her praise. There are many strong and great 
 points in English life that are worth noting. I was 
 impressed with the uniform courtesy and politeness 
 of the people everywhere. The police with all their 
 stiffness were the most courteous fellows and the 
 most willing to help you. Clerks, porters, waiters, 
 and all the folks I came in contact with showed the 
 same type of kindness and good breeding that was 
 worthy of note. This brings us right down to the 
 rock bottom truth we must recognize. That is the 
 English blood is good blood and the English train- 
 ing is good training. 
 
 I did not hear of the complaint that everywhere 
 folks were trying to skin you and take advantage of 
 you as was the case in other countries. London is 
 a busy rushing city but there is a great strong 
 principle and character in the people. 
 
 They are looking back to the great things in her 
 illustrious past and they are bringing the spirit of 
 that past into her present. There is a strong relig- 
 ious principle in the English race. The city of 
 London was on Sunday the most shut up and Sab- 
 bath observing city I have ever seen. There is 
 certainly a great strength in a nation that can close 
 up a city on the Sabbath that way. And the people 
 
112 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 are church people. They are religious I believe 
 more religious than America. Much of their re- 
 ligion is the English Episcopal. I heard them preach 
 a good many times and while I always had to take 
 more ceremony than I wanted, I always heard a 
 good practical sermon and I always found a large 
 company of worshippers. I believe the church life 
 of England is freer from rationalism and destruc- 
 tive foolishness than the church life of America. 
 I have profound respect for the religious life, train- 
 ing and teaching of Great Britain and I believe 
 this largely accounts for the greatness as a people. 
 
 It was our privilege to drive many miles out 
 into the country sections of England and study the 
 land of the people as well as the big Metropolis. 
 The farms and country sections of England are 
 wonderful in their beauty and well kept state. It 
 was a great privilege to see the fine farms, nice 
 farmhouses, splendid villages and towns and every- 
 where everything spoke of a very high order and 
 of a prosperous, tasty, thrifty people. 
 
 We ate lunch one day at the quaint and charming 
 town of Warwick and found a high type of cultured 
 people, who treated us in the kindliest manner. 
 We visited the ruins of Kenilworth Castle made 
 famous from the novels of Walter Scott and War- 
 wick castle linked with the famous Duke of War- 
 wick so noted in the career of Queen Bess. 
 
 We also visited Stratford on the Avon, the home 
 of the greatest of all English authors, Wm. Shake- 
 speare. We went to his grave in the church, read 
 the original record of his baptism and his marriage 
 
The Surrender of Jerusalem to the British. The Turkish 
 Mayor of the city is the man with the cane. The white flag 
 was raised, and the British lads advanced to escort the Mayor 
 and his party to General Allenby. This is the first picture 
 of this event to appear in America. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 113 
 
 to Ann Hathaway and then we visited the birth 
 places of Shakespeare and his wife, the home where 
 they lived and inspected many things that were in 
 the home as it was in their day. These homes 
 are now owned and managed by the Government 
 and are preserved as National Museums. They gave 
 us some very interesting examples of English home 
 life habits and customs in the days of our ancestors. 
 Over one hundred thousand people visited these 
 homes last year and the day we were there, the 
 crowd was very large, which shows all the world 
 has not gone mad over fools but some still appre- 
 ciate artists. 
 
 We took another trip seven ! miles across the 
 Thames to Windsor Castle and Hampton Court. The 
 first is the present country home of the King and 
 Queen, and is one of the greatest mansions of the 
 world. It was built by William the Conqueror in 
 1068 and is a stately castle in a beautiful setting. 
 Hampton Court was the home of Henry VIII, the 
 much married and sinful monarch of England. He 
 took this mansion from Cardinal Woosley by force 
 before he had him killed and occupied it himself. 
 Anne Bolyne, one of the wives of King Henry, 
 lived here and it is said her ghost still remains here. 
 
 We passed Runnimede Meadows on the Thames 
 where King John signed the Magna Charta in the 
 eleventh century giving the world the great consti- 
 tution of Freedom and Liberty. 
 
 I shall not be foolish enough to try to describe 
 Saint Paul's or Westminster. These are two of the 
 greatest institutions of English life. St. Paul's is 
 
114 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 a great cathedral of the Episcopal church and is 
 second to St. Peter's among the large cathedrals 
 of the world. In this church are the tombs of 
 many of England's most noted men and women, 
 among them, the Duke of Wellington, King Charles 
 the First and King Charles the Second, Queen Eliz- 
 abeth, Queen Mary, General Gordon, known as 
 Chinese Gordon. It was he who discovered the real 
 calvary where Jesus was crucified and the real 
 tomb where his body was buried. The body of Sir 
 Christophe Wrenn also rests in this noted place. 
 He was the architect and designer of the cathedral 
 and the inscription that is on his tomb is as follows : 
 
 "If you would behold his monument look around 
 you." 
 
 Westminster Abby is a great monument in the 
 form of a cathedral but used rather as the resting 
 place of notables than a place of worship. 
 
 These two great memorials keep constantly be- 
 fore the british the greatness of their illustrious 
 dead. There is something impressive and ennobl- 
 ing about having the great ones of a nation's life 
 buried where all their tombs may be easily seen and 
 the greatness of their lives kept constantly before 
 you rather than having them buried in unknown 
 places scattered far and wide. And yet there comes 
 to you often a feeling that you are too much among 
 the tombs and too much looking back. An old 
 country with a long and glorious past may be in 
 danger of living too much in that past. 
 
 In taking our country ride to Oxford and Strat- 
 ford. I was impressed with the strange names of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 115 
 
 some of the country and village taverns we passed. 
 A few of the names were as follows "White 
 Horse", "Red Horse", "The Dog", "The Dog and 
 Gun", "Red Bull", "Fat Pig", "Star and Garter", 
 "Three Sisters", "Black Boy," "The Temperance 
 Tavern," "The Quiet Woman". Just why they 
 have such odd names for their taverns and whether 
 or not there was real significance in the names, 
 I did not learn. 
 
 THE ECCUMENICAL CONFERENCE 
 
 At the time of our visit the Great Eccumenical 
 Conference of Methodists was in session in Lon- 
 don. Several members of our party were dele- 
 gates to the conference and others planned to 
 attend. This was a great meeting of all the 
 Methodist bodies of the world. At one session a 
 German delegate made a rousing speech pleading 
 for the world to forget and forgive Germany. When 
 he finished his speech, he turned to an American 
 negro and hugged him while a southern bishop 
 led the singing of the song, "Blest Be The Tie That 
 Binds." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 A VISIT TO SMYRNA 
 
 An eighteen-hour ride on the Aegean Sea, by is- 
 lands that were old before our country had written 
 a line of history, brought us through the Dardanel- 
 les from Constantinople to the bay of Smyrna. The 
 boat was rough, the odor bad, the food smacked too 
 much of goat and there were too many Turks along ; 
 but above all this were the soft blue skies, below us 
 the blue waters, and all about us that wonderful 
 heavenly night with the moonlight upon the waters. 
 
 I shared my little room with a Methodist 
 preacher, a Baptist preacher and a Mohammedan 
 cat. The Baptist and the cat were very sea-sick 
 and kept us from sleeping well. My place at the 
 table was between two Turks, whose main diet was 
 a big bowl of spaghetti cooked with an abundance 
 of goat grease. There didn't seem to be any begin- 
 ning or ending to the snaky looking dough. They 
 ate it by suction. Getting their mouths near enough 
 to the dish they guide it with a spoon and keep a 
 perfect stream of the greasy stuff going to their 
 mouths like cotton in the cotton mills running 
 through the spinners, while the goat grease goes 
 where it may. I was reminded of the Southern 
 belle of dusky color who informed her beau at sup- 
 per that she did not like to eat watermelons. When, 
 with great astonishment, he asked the reason why, 
 she said, "Cause I don't like to git de juice in mah 
 years." Try our best, we could not eat spaghetti 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 117 
 
 like the Turks. It is a distinct privilege, however, 
 to sit between two and see them eat it, especially 
 when you have seen the spaghetti hanging up in 
 the back yards to dry where it is made, and the goat 
 meat that is cooked with it, hanging in their mar- 
 kets. This was not the first nor the last time we 
 had to eat what was set before us and ask no ques- 
 tions for conscience's sake and other reasons. 
 
 Our boat cast anchor in the beautiful harbor of 
 Smyrna, and we prepared to go ashore. Several 
 boats from different nations were hung up at the 
 dock and we had to stop several yards from the 
 shore and be transferred by little row boats. It 
 seemed that from every quarter these little boats 
 came about two hundred of them with the skill 
 and speed of birds to our boatside, while their 
 owners set up an awful howl and jabber as they 
 quarreled with one another for the best positions 
 and called to us at the top of their voices for our 
 patronage. All of this in a general mixture of 
 broken English badly broken French and Ger- 
 man at the rate of about ten per cent., with the rest 
 in Arabic, all made emphatic with jerks and ges- 
 tures astonishing to see. A crowd of hungry geese 
 at feeding time would not have set up a more lively 
 scramble and their talk would have been as much 
 understood. We were soon landed on the main 
 street that runs along the water front, where a 
 little car, drawn by donkeys, seemed determined 
 to run over us. The street was crowded with 
 camels from afar, bringing figs, rugs and other 
 native products to the sea to exchange for other 
 
118 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 things needed. Nearby was the fish market which 
 needed no sign to advertise itself; also the packing 
 places for the celebrated Smyrna figs, and a short 
 distance up the street the bazaars. 
 
 One of the greatest things in the East is the 
 bazaars. No tongue or pen could justly describe 
 the wonderful sight produced by this great mix- 
 ture of men with the still greater mixture of native 
 products, all blended in endless confusion of styles, 
 costumes and colors, while the black men and still 
 blacker men (for now and then among the other 
 hues you run upon a Kafir, Nubian, or a Sudanese, 
 black enough to make a common negro look pale), 
 brown men and yellow men, all clattering, jabber- 
 ing, sputtering, gurgling sounds at you which vary 
 in sound from the roar of a lion to the mixing of 
 a Seidlitz powder. To go through the bazaars of 
 Smyrna. Constantinople and Cairo, to be pulled and 
 jerked, sputtered and hissed at with an endless 
 array of goods, of every color of the rainbow and 
 several that have never been hung up in the sky, 
 with hundreds of figures of every countenance and 
 costume known to man, on exhibit in the little half- 
 lighted booths, with as many odors as they have 
 colors . has the effect upon the subconsciousness 
 something akin to the jim jams, but more pleasant. 
 In these famous trading places you can buv the 
 finest products of the East at almost your own 
 price. 
 
 Smyrna is of great interest to the traveler be- 
 cause it has long been the second great city of the 
 Turkish Empire. It has a fine location and from 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 119 
 
 any point of view produces a most pleasing impres- 
 sion. Before it lies one of the greatest harbors of 
 the earth and on beyond the blue waters of the 
 Aegean Sea. The city sits upon the side of a com- 
 manding hill, while behind it are great and im- 
 posing mountains, among whch old Mt. Pagus 
 raises his lofty head, speaking of the distant time 
 when about him the proud old city surged, while 
 upon his crest rested the crown of Roman life and 
 glory. Smyrna claims an unbroken history of three 
 thousand five hundred years, and is now one of the 
 greatest cities of the country, pouring from the 
 regions beyond into her harbor a wonderful stream 
 of commerce. Another great honor claimed by 
 Smyrna is, being one of the seven cities in which 
 Homer was born. 
 
 But the point of greatest interest to the Chris- 
 tian is that Smyrna was the home of one of the 
 Seven Churches of Asia to which God, through 
 Saint John on the Isle of Patmos, not far away, 
 sent those messages which were to come with light 
 and life to all churches for all time. This is the only 
 one of the seven cities in which those early churches 
 were located that is great and prosperous, the others 
 long ago having gone to dust through the wear of 
 the ages and the vandalism of man. The church 
 at Smyrna claimed another distinction in that it 
 and the church at Philadelphia were the only two 
 of the seven that received only words of praise 
 in those letters. In all the others when the good 
 points had been recounted the Almighty voice spoke 
 to the Revelator these awful words: "Neverthe- 
 
120 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 less I have somewhat against thee." How many 
 churches and how many souls our Lord will thus 
 address when he writes our record it is sad to con- 
 template. When God spoke the good deeds of the 
 church at Smyrna there was no "nevertheless." 
 
 You surely feel linked to the past in Smyrna. 
 The missionary links in the chain of the years 
 gone and the Dark Ages glow with heaven's light. 
 You are at the site of the church of Smyrna with 
 the second chapter of Revelations before you, and 
 the history of Irenaeus, who was bishop at the close 
 of the second century. He was the pupil of Poly- 
 carp, bishop of the church at Smyrna, and has 
 written things about him that have come down 
 through the years to us. Polycarp was the disciple 
 of Saint John and John was the disciple of Jesus. 
 So that morning as we stood in Smyrna we felt 
 otur hands were holding the unbroken chain of 
 history back to Jesus, which gave us strange feel- 
 ings as we looked at the links Irenaeus, Polycarp, 
 John, Jesus. 
 
 It was here in the market place of the city one 
 Saturday afternoon that the great and good old 
 Polycarp was fed to the flames when the devil and 
 his angles tried so hard to destroy the faith of 
 the early Christians by burning their bodies. Little 
 did they think those martyr fires were starting a 
 light that would outshine the stars, and that by 
 the aid of that light that shone on the world of 
 sin and darkness so many souls would be able to 
 see the face of Christ. They wrought more for 
 the Lord in their death than they could possibly 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 121 
 
 have done in their lives. Truly does the Scripture 
 speak of all such "Of whom the world was not 
 worthy." Polycarp was offered freedom if he 
 would deny his Lord. The old saint's answer was, 
 "Eighty and six years have I served Him and He 
 has done me no ill; how, then, can I blaspheme 
 my King who has saved me?" He fed the soldiers 
 who came to take him and requested of them an 
 hour for prayer. As they saw him praying a strange 
 awe came over them and they repented they had 
 arrested him, but led him to the Roman Court, 
 which sentenced him to death. They burned him, 
 and his friends gathered up the old man's ashes 
 and buried them, overlooking the beautiful bay. 
 Heathen Turks tramp the sacred spot, crying, 
 "Polycarp toomba' backsheesh" (all they know of 
 English), little knowing what that spot means to 
 the Christian's heart. 
 
 The church of Smyrna is gone. The congrega- 
 tion is gone. The Turks hold forth where the glori- 
 ous light of this spotless church shone long ago. 
 But the faith they had is not dead. The flowers 
 they planted have not withered, nor is the vine 
 they planted by the wall of that church blighted. 
 Across many seas and into many lands the fra- 
 grance and the fruit of that early religion has gone 
 and lives to the glory of God. Standing in these 
 ruins where heathenism has followed Christianity, 
 some ask, "Isn't religion a failure?" Because the 
 sun goes down does it go out? It goes beyond 
 our vision to shine on the other lands, and so the 
 Sun of Righteousness went beyond the view of some 
 
122 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 of those people who would not open their eyes to 
 His saving light but the light of that sun did not go 
 out. On those people who open their eyes to His 
 light He is shining with ever-increasing splendor, 
 and there is healing in His light. 
 
 One of my favorite texts to preach from has long 
 been Rev. 2:10, "Be thou faithful unto death and 
 I will give thee a crown of life." My visit to the 
 Bible lands opened many texts in ways I never 
 dreamed of, and this was one of them. This text 
 was to the church at Smyrna. All the commercial 
 and social glory that crowned Mt. Pagus in the 
 height of her Roman splendor made Smyrna appear 
 as the queen of the world sitting on her throne 
 above the sea. So the ancients regarded her. They 
 referred to her crown of life and glory. If the 
 Roman life of that city could be called a crown, 
 what a crown the life to come would be to those 
 in the church at Smyrna who, in the persecutions to 
 follow, were faithful unto death! How that life 
 pure, endlless, sinless, painless compares with the 
 life of Rome at her highest! What an exchange, 
 death for life ; Smyrna for heaven ! But I will just 
 mention the fact and not preach the sermon. 
 
 Being very anxious to visit all the scenes of this 
 sacred history in and beyond the city, we soon had 
 a dozen carriages in line, driven by as many treach- 
 erous looking Turks, and drawn by horses small 
 and ugly, but tough and fast. It is amazing how 
 much hard driving and rough treatment these little 
 horses will stand. The Turks in fact nearly all 
 the drivers we saw have a recklessness and speed 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 123 
 
 in their driving that would make Jehu take a back 
 seat. Numbers of times we held our breath and 
 closed our eyes as we furiously drove through nar- 
 row streets crowded with venders, camels, donkeys, 
 people and dogs, and through the whole summer, 
 with many hairbreadth misses, we had only two 
 minor accidents. In Athens we upset a fruit 
 peddler with no damages save a few spilt apples and 
 lingual explosion that sounded like a pot full of 
 Heroditus, Livy and Modern Eloquence boiling over. 
 The other was in Damascus, in the street called 
 Straight, where through the crowded market and 
 hundreds of dogs, we made schedule time with no 
 mishap save running over the left hind leg of one 
 of the Sultan's Fidos. It should be remembered 
 that these European carriages are almost the only 
 wheeled vehicles found in Turkey and Palestine. 
 
 Up the narrow, crowded street of Smyrna our 
 carriages went for Mt. Pagus. The streets are 
 only a few feet wide and are full of venders, basket- 
 makers, shoemakers, coppersmiths, etc., the most 
 of whom sit flat upon the ground. Our horses 
 dashed along, sometimes brushing against them, 
 but they seemed too busy or too lazy to notice us. 
 Streams of dirty beggars of every age followed us 
 with the cry of "backsheesh," which is ever in your 
 ears! 
 
 Deep in thought and meditation of the sacred 
 history born here, we almost forgot the degrada- 
 tion about us. Higher we climbed until we had a 
 wonderful view of the city below with the ships 
 of many nations swinging on their anchors at her 
 
124 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 quay and the waters of the Aegean Sea stretching 
 on until they touched the blue Mediterranean. To 
 our left herds of goats browsed about the base of 
 the old Roman bridge, over which the splendor of 
 the empire went in the days of Jesus. Up ahead of 
 us was the site of the church of Smyrna and still 
 beyond the tomb of Polycarp. Our little horses 
 settled down to their up-hill pull while we settled 
 still deeper into meditation. The beautiful morn- 
 ing, and the sacred scenes made a day seldom 
 equalled in a lifetime. But how soon were we to 
 be served with one of those sudden changes these 
 folks thrust upon you as they sweep you through 
 centuries of time from the things that used to be 
 to the things that now are. 
 
 In the midst of our deepest and most profitable 
 meditations some of the horses balked how many 
 I don't know. Really I am not sure that any balked 
 at all anyway that or something else caused us 
 to presently be served free of charge with one of 
 the greatest shows which in all my life I have ever 
 seen or heard. I would give a good price if I had 
 the power to produce with word or pen or motion 
 picture what followed. I hesitate to try, for I know 
 I will fall so far short of doing it justice. I am 
 sure no member of our party can ever forget it, 
 but all will ever consider it one of the richest ex- 
 periences that was ours something that was not 
 on the regular program and for which there was no 
 extra charge whatever. 
 
 Our carriages all came to a standstill, and the 
 Turkey drivers began to gobble at one another and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 125 
 
 make signs. At first it was mild and slow, but 
 soon the grindings and the gratings that came from 
 their throats grew faster and louder, while gesticu- 
 lations, gyrations and contortions became more 
 violent, increasing every second in rapidity and 
 force. They let go their lines and stood up that 
 they might be freer to practice their bodily and 
 guttural performances, all of which increased in 
 volume and movement like a gasoline engine getting 
 under way. Presently they all went down upon 
 the ground where they could have still more room 
 and get at one another better. They met face to face, 
 and growled at one another until their eyes, aflame 
 with Satanic fire, seemed to bulge from their heads. 
 Their faces were so contorted that their noses, eyes, 
 ears and mouths seemed to rapidly change places 
 like the letters of an electric sign on the street in 
 the night. They trembled, stamped their feet, 
 rubbed their fists in one another's faces. They 
 stood straight up, with their hands and faces lifted 
 high toward heaven, calling upon their God with 
 more vehemence than the prophets of Baal on Mt. 
 Carmel. Then they went down upon the earth and 
 projstrated themselves with their faces near the 
 earth and the palms of their hands upon the ground, 
 and prayed. Then they arose and swore. 
 
 It will help to picture this scene when you think 
 of the pants these Turks wear. It seems they can't 
 be mean enough in their nature and conduct, but 
 must add to it by these abominable clothes. Their 
 pants are full in the hips, with legs dwindling 
 down on the mutton-leg plan, until they are tight at 
 
126 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the ankles with a seat that bags down about two 
 feet. It is the most grotesque costume ever de- 
 signed by the children of men. The actions of these 
 fellows in those breeches was something not soon 
 forgotten. This went on until every condition 
 known to the body had been gone through with, 
 while all the time a noise as loud as lungs and 
 throats could make it rolled from their throats with 
 a swiftness that would make an auctioneer or a 
 lady at a tea party green with envy. This stuff 
 could not have been talk. They could not have un- 
 derstood one another. A cat serenade in the back 
 yard at midnight was Shakespearean rhetoric com- 
 pared to this. Mark Twain said, when he heard 
 cats fighting at night, it wasn't the fuss that 
 bothered him, but the fact that "they used such 
 miserable bad grammar." If catawailing is bad 
 grammar, I don't know what this was. It varied in 
 sound from the boiling of mush to the grinding of 
 glass, with constant explosions from their internal 
 regions as though they had swallowed several packs 
 of firecrackers each and they were going off. 
 
 Why they were thus giving their attention to 
 one another and not to the horses, if they had 
 balked, was strange, and led us to think the horses 
 had not balked. And yet, if that was not the case, 
 I don't know what it was. The whole thing will 
 remain a mystery. Some thought it was a little 
 side show they were serving to us with the hope 
 of some extra backsheesh. Others thought it was 
 a plot to get us out of the city in this lonely place 
 and rob us, and they were merely debating how 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 127 
 
 they should proceed and how they would divide us 
 up. When this theory was advanced, some of our 
 men became alarmed and our ladies began to cry. 
 As for me, I did not think of danger. I forgot all 
 about the sacred spot and its history. I almost 
 forgot who I was and where I was. I could not even 
 be a knight to the hysterical ladies. I sat back in 
 that carriage, looking upon the greatest circus I 
 had ever seen, and it was not costing me a cent. 
 
 After awhile, about the tomb of Polycarp, I tried 
 to brush all these things away and enter into the 
 spirit I expected to find up there. I often close 
 my eyes and stand there again. I see Mt. Pagus 
 and the city below, the boats in the harbor and the 
 blue sea beyond. I see the teeming life of Rome 
 in the height of her glory surging about that proud 
 old city. I see Polycarp going to the flames. I 
 see the messengers coming from Patmos with John's 
 letter to the church at Smyrna. I see the angel 
 coming down from heaven with the crown of life 
 to put upon the heads of those who, in the midst 
 of trials we can never realize, were faithful unto 
 death. 
 
 At other times in other moods I close my 
 eyes to things about me and see that circus again, 
 and I cannot keep from wishing I could, by tongue 
 or pen or artist's brush, put it in a living picture. 
 When the performance was at its height our horses 
 started to run with all their might, without any 
 drivers to stop them. I had listened to some strange 
 thing they often said to the horses, and, realizing 
 something had to be said and done, I yelled at the 
 
128 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 horses as nearly as I could that thing I had heard 
 them say. I don't know how near I came to it. 
 I don't know whether I was swearing or not, or 
 whether I was praying to Mohammed, but it 
 answered the purpose, the horses stopped, and we 
 got the lines and held them until the performance 
 was over. 
 
 When we reached the boat our ladies fixed their 
 hair and otherwise adjusted their disordered looks 
 as they almost cried again for joy, while the men 
 smiled and sighed for the same reason. Some lady 
 said to our guide: "Oh, wasn't it awful? Did you 
 ever see anything like it?" The guide looked at 
 her with a smile and said, "Madam I have been 
 going through that every day for twenty years." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 ON MARS' HILL. 
 
 Leaving Smyrna our boat turned her nose across 
 the Mediterranean to the land of Egypt. That 
 cruise on that wonderful body of water so rich 
 in history, those glorious days, and soft summer 
 nights, will never be forgotten. 
 
 We spent a day in Athens, landing in the harbor 
 five miles away and took the car for that city 
 great in the days that are gone. We were struck 
 with the difference in things here and in Turkey. 
 We saw about us more thrift, intelligence and 
 decency, also more kindliness and friendliness 
 toward foreigners. 
 
 We took carriages from modern Athens up the 
 hill to the site of the Athens that used to be, and 
 it was truly an upward way. On top of these com- 
 manding hills stands the ruins of this great city 
 of culture and learning. Even a feeble imagination 
 can paint a thrilling picture of those people and 
 those days as one looks from this big hill that rises 
 above its fellows, giving a fine view of the sea and 
 the hills behind, while all around are ruins, some 
 crumbling back to earth while others stand, and 
 when a multitude of generations still have come 
 iand gone will still be standing the dash of the 
 winds and the roar of the storms. To look upon 
 these massive, majestic ruins makes you feel that 
 the worldly culture of this age is hardly stand- 
 ing on the same platform with those days. The 
 
130 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Acropolis, the Stadium, the Theatre of Dionysius, 
 the Temple of Zenus, and the Parthenon, stand- 
 ing here when centuries have past, are still mar- 
 velous monuments of the boldness and skill of Peri- 
 cles, the builder, aided by the genius of Phideas, 
 the sculptor, and Ictinis and Mnesicles, the archi- 
 tects. The ruins and the museum full of relics of 
 the greatness of those days are so overpowering 
 that I feel powerless to describe them, and shall 
 not undertake the task. We looked upon the finest 
 sculpture of the world and emblems of life thou- 
 sands of years old that looked as modern as any- 
 thing tihe world can show to-day. The dress and 
 the ornaments of the ladies, as far as design and 
 art goes, looked like they were just from a modern 
 shop. 
 
 My mind and heart soon found their way through 
 all the ruins of Grecian glory to two spots that 
 have always stood out as the two most important 
 places in these great ruins. One was the grave of 
 Socrates. It makes the heart leap faster to look 
 through the bars to the grave of that old philoso- 
 pher who drank the hemlock and left this world, 
 because long before the man of Galilee had walked 
 the hills of earth on His mission of Gospel and Life, 
 this enquiring mind and hungry heart had grasped, 
 even though faintly, the life that gleamed beyond 
 the hills he walked upon, and, single-handed, in 
 that old market place, fought for his new faith, 
 and when they had overwhelmed him, refused to 
 renounce the new light he had seen and gave his 
 life to pay the price of his faith. Perhaps the life 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 131 
 
 of Athens dropped at once into its usual channels 
 and moved on unhindered, glad that the silly Socra- 
 tes was gone ; but how much greater was that idea to 
 grow than all those philosophers had ever dreamed ! 
 
 The next place my heart turned to was Mars 
 Hill, and climbing to its crest as nearly as can be de- 
 termined, where Paul stood when he made his 
 speech to the Athenians one of the greatest 
 speeches the world ever listened to with my Bible 
 in my hand I read the seventeenth chapter of Acts. 
 Clearly rose the picture before us. There was the 
 market place where the gentlemen of proud Athens 
 gathered to discuss the issues of their minds and 
 propound questions one to another, since they had 
 no papers and magazines to write for and to read. 
 (This custom still exists in many places and it has 
 some good features.) They were ever after some 
 new thing, and every new thing in religion or any- 
 thing else they could find they brought it as a trophy 
 and added it to their collection. They had intro- 
 duced all the gods they could find and had erected 
 altars to them. 
 
 One day a little man, buffeted and storm-tossed, 
 was conducted by some kind friends into this great 
 city. The world had served him rough. He re- 
 ceived no welcome on land or sea, for the waves 
 tried to swallow him and the hills engulf him. He 
 was a little weather-beaten, wiry, unattractive 
 looking man. No, there was something so odd, 
 unnatural and strange about him that it made him 
 wonderfully attractive. He was accused of turn- 
 ing the world upside down, but he didn't look like 
 
182 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 he could do it. His hands were swarthy and tough 
 looking, but they didn't look like they could turn 
 a tent upside down, much less the world. But he 
 was like old Socrates whose body went to dust just 
 across the way, he had an idea and it was this idea 
 that was turning the world and regions under the 
 world upside down. It is ideas and not hands that 
 turn the world upside down now and then. Ideas 
 were in great demand in the market place in 
 Athens. These gentlemen of Athens spread them 
 out like traders do their wares and looked them 
 over. They turned them over in their hands, 
 mashed them to see if they were sound, smelled 
 them and scrutinided all their fibres. 
 
 They ran constantly to their bargain counters, 
 bringing and taking away some new thing. They 
 were afflicted with that disease that crept in Eden 
 and has never left us. It is "Newitis," a burning 
 fever for some new thing. Eve caught it and turned 
 her face from the Tree of Life to the Tree of Know- 
 ledge, because already, though she had been there 
 such a little while, the Tree of Life was getting 
 stale, and the Tree of Knowledge, which the devil 
 had just called her attention to, was new. The 
 child is born with this disease, and as fast as his 
 baby hands can catch things he throws them down 
 because they are old, and reaches up for more be- 
 cause they are new. So before breakfast is ready 
 on Christmas morning all the invention of Santa 
 CIpus for a year has grown stale to him. Ladies 
 have "Newitis," so they must have new clothes. No 
 matter how good a dress and a hat may be, if they 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 133 
 
 have been worn a few times and the eyes of the 
 saints have seen them, they are old, and new ones 
 are very much desired. If you throw pigs a thou- 
 sand ears of corn they will bite each one once and 
 hasten on the next one in search of something new. 
 Not that I intended to put the ladies and the pigs 
 in the same class, but that I was only illustrating 
 the disease. 
 
 So one morning an Athenian, climbing up the 
 shining way to the Acropolis with the fevers of 
 "Newitis" burning in his blood, chanced to see a 
 crowd about the Jewish synagogue, and thinking 
 here was something to feed the hunger he had and 
 give him a choice morsel of gossip to carry to the 
 market place, he turned aside. He heard Paul 
 preaching to the Jews about one named Jesus who 
 was crucified in Jerusalem and arose again from 
 the dead, thereby proclaiming to those who followed 
 him that they should do the same. The Athenian 
 threw back his head and laughed. His heart beat 
 faster, his eyes shone, he quickened his pace up the 
 shining way along the sculptured path to the place 
 where ideas were exchanged, for he had one that 
 was new, and he was anxious to get there with it 
 before all others. When he broke into the circle 
 of idea venders they saw from his looks and his 
 movements he had been out on a hunt, and had 
 made a new catch. So they gave way for him. He 
 at once spread before them the idea he had found, 
 and a number of them ran down the sculptured 
 marble way on the hunt for Paul like a crowd of 
 boys go out for the man with a monkey. They 
 
134 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 got him, and as the gathering crowd grew larger 
 they pushed him along until they reached the 
 Areopagus, and here in this out-door court where 
 Greece heard and passed judgment on all things, 
 the apostle of the Gentiles got upon, perhaps, this 
 very knoll where I stood, with his speech in my 
 hand. The heavenly fire of Paul and the marble 
 philosophy of Athens had met, and throughout 
 history, when heavenly fire and marble philosophy 
 have come together, the marble has been left in 
 ruin and the fire has gone on. 
 
 The great speech was made. No time was lost 
 in elaborate preliminaries or silk-spun flowery in- 
 troductions. Paul went to the point. He never 
 had time for long introductions and conclusions. 
 He never spends any time getting ready or closing 
 up. "Ye men of Athens," he said, "in all things I 
 perceive that ye are very religious. For as I passed 
 along and observed the objects of your worship I 
 found also an altar with this inscription : * To the 
 Unknown God 1 (How that dart of irony and sar- 
 casm went home!) (Acts 17:22-31.) 
 
 How that speech must have fallen upon their 
 proud ears ! What a mighty thrust it was at all their 
 traditions, superstitions and philosophies! Here 
 were new ideas for them. They had something to 
 chew over now. They could herald the new faith 
 of this man far and wide. But strange to say they 
 got mad. The world has always been so. When 
 Divine Truth sweeps the foundations from devils 
 and men they get mad. There is nothing else to do. 
 When logic fails, wisdom answers not and the pride 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 135 
 
 of the world parts not its lips, it is time to get 
 mad. Sometimes a sage cannot answer a question, 
 but any two penny fool can get mad about it. 
 No matter how cool and quiet Divine Truth is, 
 when it comes into the presence of the devil the 
 devil gets mad. Jesus never did an unkind, unjust 
 or unmanly thing. He was as gentle as a lady, as 
 free from ill as an angel, but He made the devil's 
 angels so mad they killed Him. The drowning of 
 the hogs, the healing of the sick, raising of the 
 dead, and, worst of all, forgiving sins and preach- 
 ing a resurrection, made the devils so mad that the 
 volcanoes of perdition belched forth their age-long 
 accumulations of vileness. So Athens got mad with 
 Paul. 
 
 While the greatness of the world goes down the 
 light of the Gospel goes on. The old Athens has 
 passed away, its glory is dimmed, and its sun is set. 
 These great ruins stand as the lasting monument of 
 the great minds of a great race, but all these things 
 exist only as shadows. At great labor and expense 
 they wrought to build their monuments, but they 
 are gone. How few souls on earth to-day know of 
 Pericles, the builder? And when you name Phidias, 
 the sculptor, and Ictinis and Mnesicles, the archi- 
 tects of Athens, not one man in a hundred, long out 
 of college, can tell you who they were without run- 
 ning to the Encyclopedia or the Greek Professor. 
 
 But who doesn't know the Apostle Paul ? He built 
 no Acropolis, or Parthenon. He only built tents ; but 
 the heart of the world beats over the work of Paul, 
 the builder of tents, more than it does over Pericles, 
 
136 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the builder of marble Parthenons? Paul had no 
 money. He hired his own house and paid the rent 
 when he sold a tent. Pericles had a mighty nation 
 behind him and the money and wisdom of the world 
 at his call. He built marble temples where Athenian 
 ideas would shine. Paul built tents, but looked be- 
 yond the place they were pitched to "the city which 
 hath foundations whose builder and maker is God," 
 as he set in motion the idea that has sent countless 
 souls rejoicing through the shadows to the Heavenly 
 light and everlasting life. Which has blessed the 
 world more, Pericles, the empire builder, Phidias, 
 the sculptor, Ictinis and Mnesicles, the architects, 
 or Paul, the servant of Jesus Christ? Verily the 
 work of man goes down but the work of God goes on. 
 As we steamed out of the bay over historic waters, 
 our faces set toward Egypt, the sun was going 
 down and throwing the glorious light of the closing 
 day upon the hill, upon the white marble ruins of 
 Athens, and across the quiet waters came the 
 thought that while the light of the earth goes out 
 the light of the Lord shines on. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OVER THE SEAS TO EGYPT. 
 
 Great was the journey down to Egypt Wonder- 
 ful seas, historic shores, historic memories, balmy 
 days, soft summer nights with liquid stars and low 
 hung moon. These things will not be forgotten. 
 Our path had passed ancient Troy and crossed the 
 line of Paul's historic missionary journeys. 
 
 Sitting upon the deck, with the breeze blowing 
 softly and the sun shining peacefully upon the far 
 flung line of the sea, we read from Acts Paul's ac- 
 count of his experiences there in the years gone by. 
 How different was his experience and ours! We 
 were with friends. We had above us the flag of 
 a great Christian country to protect us. We carried 
 passports frqm our government guaranteeing us 
 proper treatment. We had the fair skies, gentle 
 breezes. But how storm-swept Paul's journey was! 
 "And when neither sun nor stars shone for many 
 days, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope that 
 we should be saved was taken away." It is hard for 
 us to realize what these strong words of the Apostle 
 mean. But God had not lost sight of his child in 
 the teeth of the storm for "There stood by me this 
 night an angle of God whose I am and whom I 
 serve, saying 'Fear not, Paul. Thou must stand 
 before Caesar, and lo. God hath granted thee all 
 them that sail with thee/ wherefore, sirs, be of 
 good cheer for I believe God that it shall be even 
 as He hath said." Thank God for a faith like that! 
 
138 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Thank God for such heavenly visitations in the time 
 of life's worst storms. 
 
 The 27th chapter of Acts gives a thrill at any 
 time that cannot be surpassed by any litera- 
 ture of the earth, but, reading it here gives 
 feelings that are indescribable. Here was the 
 very spot where the heroic Apostle to the Gen- 
 tiles weak, frail and half dead, with all the world 
 against him as he was on his way to the court of 
 a brutal Caesar, on what he knew was a hopeless 
 appeal, took charge of that boat and its crew in 
 that awful storm and guided it safely ashore, while 
 he made the darkened heavens shine with a mighty 
 faith. He was cast up upon yonder island, where he 
 shook the viper in the fire and preached the power of 
 Christ to save and deliver. Oh, to have Paul's faith, 
 so that in all the storms of life we can feel our Pilot 
 at our side, and, looking through the storm clouds, 
 behold the shore to which he is sure to lead us. 
 
 We had a mingled, mixed, and motley company 
 aboard bur boat. There were Christian travel^ 
 ers, tourists and missionaries from England and 
 America on their way to Egypt and Palestine. 
 There were merchants from Athens, Smyrna and 
 Constantinople going to Cairo and Alexandria on 
 tours of trade. There were Egyptians going home 
 from those cities from like missions. There was 
 an Austrian count and countess, with attendants 
 and a lazy, greasy, bench-legged pug dog their 
 only child, who had to be walked by the maid every 
 day. There were Turkish officers and gentlemen, 
 and a good sprinkling of Italians along with some 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 139 
 
 coal-black Soudanese and Kafir negroes to add 
 color to the parade. But the most numerous and 
 most conspicuous part of the company was ithe 
 steerage, full of Mohammedan pilgrims en route 
 to holy cities. There were several hundreds of 
 these of every age and kind. There were old men, 
 white of beard and brow; old women, bent and 
 wrinkled; strong men and women in their best 
 days; lads and lasses, full of wonder; little ones 
 and ones still smaller, crying, sleeping, crawling. 
 These were packed on two decks like chickens in 
 a coop, with hardly room to eat, sleep and go 
 through their prayers. Such an array of rags, filth, 
 colors and odors would be hard to find. They ate 
 their stale, dirty bread, pumpkin seeds, dates and 
 whatever they had in their dirty, ragged bags, and 
 drank from their dirty water bottles they had along, 
 while those who had nothing to eat did not seem to 
 greatly mind it, perhaps being accustomed to it. 
 Some seemed so near starved and so lazy that they 
 couldn't develop energy enough to get hungry. They 
 didn't talk much. They ate, yawned, prayed, stared 
 and slept. Many of them had been making hard 
 sacrifices for a long time to get the means to take 
 these pilgrimages. There was no denial too hard 
 for such a trip. Now they were about to realize 
 a life-long dream and visit their sacred shrines 
 from whence they could go back to their fellows 
 with the triumphant bands upon their caps and with 
 the assurance that whatever came and whatever 
 went, they were sure to reach Mohammed in heaven, 
 because of where they had gone. One of the most 
 
140 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 interesting things in Eastern travel is these bands 
 of pilgrims. We moved among them but were cau- 
 tious on account of germs and fanaticism. No won- 
 der the English government enforces examinations 
 and quarantine regulations in these waters, and 
 in spite of all, plague and other disease often break 
 out. We narrowly missed quarantine twice on ac- 
 count of plague among the pilgrims. 
 
 One of the most interesting characters on this 
 part of the journey was an Egyptian judge who had 
 been over to Athens on a legal mission of some kind 
 and was en route home to the land of Pharoah, to 
 assume his judicial duties. Not being able to ex- 
 actly understand his name, we called him Judge 
 Bathrobe, for the reason that he came to breakfast 
 just as he got up, wearing a dirty night-shirt, with 
 barefeet, his face unwashed and his hair uncombed. 
 If it didn't suit his honor he didn't change his cos- 
 tume all day, and as I remember it didn't suit him 
 until he was ready to leave the boat. The judge was 
 very friendly and tried hard to cultivate the friend- 
 ship of the Americans. He was very talkative to 
 the men and exceedingly courteous to the ladies. 
 
 The fourth of July found us on this sea journey, 
 so when the day was done and the stars came out 
 in the soft blue sky, we took ourselves to the outer 
 deck where we could have room to let off steam, 
 and entered into a regular American patriotic cele- 
 bration. It was indeed a striking ceremony, as far 
 away from our native land, surrounded by staring 
 auditors of many nations, afloat on the Mediter- 
 ranean, we sang our native songs in our native 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 141 
 
 tongue and paid tribute to our homeland so many 
 miles away. I wondered what impression this 
 service and our religious services made upon those 
 children of the East. Doubtless it was all as strange 
 and comical to them as some of their movements 
 were to us. Anyway, we seemed to hold the atten- 
 tion of the people. The Turks, the Jews, the Ital- 
 ians, the Greeks, the Egyptians, the Austrians, the 
 Germans, the English, the Arabians and some others 
 so hard to classify that they would best be put 
 on the remnant counter came near to look and lis- 
 ten. Even the tired, lazy pilgrims got a little life 
 in them and took a little interest in what was go- 
 ing on. Some laughed, some talked about it in 
 strange sounds, some turned away disgusted, but 
 the most of them looked on silently, with wide eyes 
 and open mouths. 
 
 One of our most ardent listeners was His Honor 
 Judge Bathrobe. He seemed to fully catch the 
 spirit of American independence. He clapped his 
 hands in true American style and proposed some- 
 thing that looked and sounded like a toast to the 
 Red, White and Blue. Having the fires of his 
 patriotism so well stirred he got a good supply of 
 strong wine to help him celebrate, and long after 
 we retired His Honor kept up the exercises by 
 prancing up and down the deck in his night shirt, 
 making the night alive with his patriotic speeches, 
 or maybe they were speeches of anarchy, how could 
 we tell ? And like many an American judge he mis- 
 judged the capacity of the court, over-charged the 
 jury with a preponderance of evidence, and being un- 
 able to prove an alibi his friends had to resort to 
 
142 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 habeas corpus proceedings to get him to bed at 
 4 A. M., July 5th. (If this is not legal language it 
 gives the idea,) 
 
 We touched the interesting city of Alexandria, 
 named for Alexander the Great, sailed under the 
 shadow of Pompey's pillar, and went ashore to take 
 our first look at Egypt and supply ourselves with 
 cork hats and thin clothes suited for the heat and 
 the travels that lay ahead of us. We found this 
 great city both ancient and modern. There is in 
 its streets, shops and buildings much to speak of 
 England much of real elegance, and there is much, 
 very much to speak of the East, the old East, and 
 the dusty ancient days of Egypt. 
 
 We resumed our journey to Port Said at the 
 mouth of the Suez Canal. This canal is under the 
 control of the British government, which several 
 years ago purchased a controlling interest from the 
 Khedive of Egypt, the sum being twenty million 
 dollars. It has revolutionized Eastern travel, open- 
 ing a shorter way around the world and pours 
 in and out an immense amount of commerce. More 
 than four thousand boats each year, carrying more 
 than half a million souls and ten million tons of 
 freight, touch at this custom house, and for the 
 privilege of this waterway pay a toll of twenty mil- 
 lion dollars. So great is the traffic through this 
 canal that often a boat is delayed two or three days 
 in getting her clearance papers. This canal gives 
 England a tremendous prestige in commerce and 
 military power, and along with Gibraltar makes 
 John Bull's power hard to shake on this part of this 
 terrestrial ball. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 143 
 
 Among the army of venders that poured on our 
 boat was a very intelligent Mohammedan who 
 pressed us with his wares. We told him it was our 
 Holy Day and on that day we neither bought nor 
 sold. He at once, with evident respect, made ready 
 to move on to other buyers, saying as he did, that 
 Friday was his Sabbath and that nothing could in- 
 duce him to trade on that day. Whether he spoke 
 the truth or not I do not know, but one thing was 
 evident time and again, the Jews and the Moham- 
 medans better regarded their sabbaths than many 
 Christians we chanced to meet. 
 
 One thing of special interest at Port Said was the 
 Egyptians coaling the big ships. They carried the 
 coal in little baskets on their heads and in a little 
 while a crowd of them put six hundred tons on the 
 ship. They moved like clock work, singing a dron- 
 ing song, all their movements keeping time to the 
 music, like our old cotton-field negroes used to do. 
 What a difference in this method of coaling ships 
 and our method here in our ports. The big crane 
 picks up a car in a minute, lifts it clear of the track, 
 dumps the load of fifty tons and puts the car back 
 on the track with as much ease as you would put 
 a shovel full of coal on the grate and put up the 
 shovel. But one thing we learned over and over 
 again was that human flesh is cheaper than ma- 
 chinery in the East. 
 
 After supper we had our Sabbath service in the 
 dining room, and after committing ourselves to our 
 Father's keeping, we fell asleep, thinking of the 
 sacred ground upon which our feet so soon should 
 walk. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 IN THE 1AND OF THE PHARAOHS. 
 
 The shades of evening were falling over the Land 
 of the Pharaohs when we emerged from the Custom 
 House and boarded the train for Cairo. Our faces 
 were toward the Land of Goshen, whither the chil- 
 dren of Jacob journeyed with their aged father 
 after the famine had driven them from their native 
 hills into the arms of their long lost brother in 
 whose hands a providential God had put corn to 
 feed them in their hunger. 
 
 How strange and wonderful are the ways of God 
 in the lives of men! Who would think Heaven's 
 Guardian Angel would follow a stripling lad like 
 that. Sold as a slave he was guided into a strange 
 land among strange people, saved from all the dang- 
 ers of a slave's life, guarded among those who 
 sought his ruin, brought into the leadership of the 
 world's greatest nation where he was made the 
 savior of those who plotted his ruin. Thus ran our 
 thoughts that evening as we went through the land 
 where Joseph was so great and God was so good. 
 The rays of an Eastern moon, that turned on its 
 light when the sun went out, but added to the charm 
 of the pictures that rose before us as the train sped 
 on. In the soft and liquid light of the moon falling 
 on that land so rich in yielding corn, but richer still 
 in its harvest of history (nowhere does the moon 
 shine like it does in this land), we could almost see 
 the sights of the centuries coming up before us. 
 
Mt. Zion, where David Lived. 
 
 Grave of Lazarus. Jesus was buried 
 in such a tomb hewn out of solid rock. 
 
The Breach in the Wall made for the Kaiser in 1898. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 145 
 
 We could almost hear the groans of Israel and the 
 fall of the task-master's lash as he drove them on 
 to make brick without straw. We could almost see 
 the shadows of the plagues falling across the court 
 of Pharaoh, and it started a creeping chill to think 
 we were where all those horrors took place. Large 
 loomed the majestic figure of the stalwart Moses 
 coming down from the sands of Midian to lead his 
 people, and clear and strong rose the hand of God 
 as over yonder in the surging waters of the 
 Red Sea He showed that with all the greatness of 
 Egypt God was greater still. We wondered if we 
 crossed the path our Savior came, as his parents 
 brought him down here to hide from the bloody hand 
 of Herod? That must have been a tiresome trip 
 for the mother and the Little Child as over the 
 burning sands they came! Christ fleeing from a 
 wicked man! And yet, he did it more than once 
 to show the plan of His Father's love to save the 
 world. 
 
 Sometimes these old bodies get so tired that even 
 in the midst of the world's greatest glories they 
 sleep on as if they were at home. We were back 
 in the common scenes of home as if we expected to 
 stay there a long time, when called from our slum- 
 bers by the loud cawing of the sacred birds of 
 Egypt. Our room opened out on a little porch onto 
 a court full of trees and flowers, and to get full 
 benefit of the breezes we left the door open. At 
 day light these sacred birds came to the door to 
 greet us and bid us welcome to the Land of the 
 Nile, or maybe they came to protest at the intru- 
 
146 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 sion of foreigners into their old and sacred shrines. 
 Whether a welcome or protest, it was loud and en- 
 thusiastic. The land is full of these birds and so 
 sacred have they been held by Egypt through her 
 long centuries, that their lives have been protected 
 and people have lost their own lives for killing 
 them. These are the birds that according to the 
 Old Religion of Egypt, bore the soul on their swift 
 wings to the court of Osiris, the chief god of Egypt, 
 where it was judged after it left the body. They 
 were honored and protected that they might carry 
 on this sacred and important work. Whether they 
 had come to our room that morning to offer their 
 services to us in this capacity, I know not, but from 
 their mean looks I would fear if we fell into their 
 hands they might carry us to the bad place, for they 
 looked like birds of ill-omen to me. Like Poe's 
 raven, they sat about our door crying, "Evermore" 
 or "Nevermore," I know not which, but they ever- 
 more squaked. 
 
 We had breakfast coffee, bread and butter the 
 Continental breakfast as it is called, because it has 
 been adopted as the universal breakfast over the 
 continent of Europe. It is all you get, and many 
 times, as you long for an old southern breakfast, 
 you feel it has the right name, for, compared to the 
 breakfast a preacher gets in the South it is not 
 worth a continental. The first time I was intro- 
 duced to it, was in a fine hotel in Germany. From 
 the fine appearance of things I set the notches of 
 my appetite up for one of the finest breakfasts T 
 had ever seen. Presently the waiter brought me 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 147 
 
 two little rolls, a little piece of butter and some 
 coffee. I sat there a few minutes waiting for steak3, 
 ham and eggs, fruits, fish and an array of savory 
 dishes with hard names, but they didn't come. 
 Others started on what they had, and so did I, think- 
 ing they had just given us this to amuse ourselves 
 with while they were getting breakfast ready, 
 Surely such a fine hotel would have a fine breakfast. 
 After a while the others got a toothpick and left 
 and so did I. This was our breakfast in Cairo 
 and everywhere else except on the ocean going 
 boats and in England. There is no limit to their 
 fare. 
 
 Soon after breakfast, as our custom was, we met 
 in front of the hotel to begin our sight seeing, and 
 no sight seeing was more interesting or helpful than 
 those days in Egypt. There is a great deal to see 
 in Cairo. Its charm is both ancient and modern. 
 It is a great city of nearly a million souls, being the 
 center of the life and activities of all Egypt and 
 that part of the world. The European section will 
 compare favorably with any city, in its streets, busi- 
 ness houses and the business that is done. It has 
 a distinctly English air, every where you go you 
 see the touch of England's hand; her troops keep 
 order, her money and men control business and her 
 rulers dictate the policy of Egypt. The better ele- 
 ment of the Egyptians have a section of the city 
 which is rich and attractive. Many of these people 
 are wealthy and live in great pomp and splendor. 
 Some of them, both men and women, are very hand- 
 some. In addition to these two elements there is a 
 very large class of the poor that make up the rest 
 
148 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 of the city's life. These are made up of many 
 classes but are chiefly Arabs, Egyptians, Nubians 
 and Soudanese. From all parts of Upper Africa 
 and other surrounding countries they pour into 
 Cairo in streams. The business of Cairo in its traf- 
 fic in native products of Egypt and North Africa, 
 and its stream of outgoing and incoming com- 
 merce is immense. 
 
 While Cairo is one of the most interesting cities 
 of the earth in its present day life, in its ancient 
 life there is a still greater charm, for in it and about 
 it was written much of the history of Egypt's 
 ancient glory. One of the chief places of in- 
 terest in the city is the great museum. This was 
 one of the first places we visited. In the East, there 
 is much that is mere legend and the traveler must 
 keep busy separating the real from the unreal. 
 Much that is shown you is mere tradition like the 
 wonderful parable in the negro preacher's sermon, 
 "got up fur de purpose ob finances." This is partly 
 due, however, to the fact that in the passing of so 
 many people and their deeds, no record was made 
 that would stand the wear of the years and the 
 hands of vandalism. Egypt, however, has done 
 otherwise. Not only has she left abundant evidence 
 in the abundance of carvings and hieroglyphics in 
 her tombs and buildings but she built with such 
 strength and skill that her works endure and speak 
 for themselves beyond all doubt. So when you see 
 the wonders of Cairo's museum you need not think 
 they are the inventions of yesterday. They are 
 the real relics of the fargone yesterdays. When 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 149 
 
 you look upon the face of Pharaoh (Rameses II), 
 who oppressed Israel and contended with Moses, 
 don't look skeptical. It is beyond all doubt the old 
 fellow. It gave us the creeps to look on his strong 
 but tyranical looking face. 
 
 Not only did we see the mummies of those distant 
 days but many other mummyfied objects of ages 
 long gone, some of them over five thousand years 
 old. Many of these objects had been preserved in 
 such a perfect manner that it was truly wonderful 
 to behold them, and they looked so modern that it 
 seemed you were gazing in the shops of yesterday. 
 Knives, beads, jewelry, chairs, swords, axes, hats 
 and clothes, very much like ours, safety pins, baked 
 potatoes, apples, rolls, roast fowl and many other 
 objects in great abundance, made us wonder how 
 much like our own day those distant ages really 
 were. Imagine how a Methodist preacher feels look- 
 ing on a cooked chicken over five thousand years 
 old. 
 
 Another very interesting object to be seen in the 
 museum of Cairo is the renowned "Village Chief." 
 It is a huge stature made of wood, representing the 
 landlord of the old days. When the natives first 
 beheld him, they named him at once "The Village 
 Chief." This stature is made of wood and is nearly 
 five thousand years old. It is one of the oldest and 
 most wonderful relics of long-gone ages. You can 
 but wonder how any kind of wood could be pre- 
 served so long. It is in perfect condition, showing 
 no signs of decay from the wear of so many cen- 
 turies. The features and the form are very strik- 
 
15 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ing, no stronger or more perfect human face has 
 ever been produced by art. It really seems to be 
 alive and looks out at you with eyes bright and 
 piercing. The balls of these eyes are made of white 
 quartz, the pupils of silver nails and the eyebrows 
 of bronze. They stare at you where ever you go and 
 those lips, though made of wood, seem trying hard 
 to tell you about the distant day and wonderful land 
 from whence they came. 
 
 We looked upon some of the mummies of the 
 sacred bulls. They also came from that fargone 
 age and represent the wonderful skill of Egypt's 
 hands and the magnitude of some of her schemes 
 as well as the strangeness of her religion. These 
 bulls were Egypt's gods. They were believed to be 
 deified and were the living form of their greatest 
 and most honored duties. They were kept in tem- 
 ples surrounded with all the luxury and gorgeous 
 wealth the richness of Egypt could bring before 
 them. To the temples of these beasts the people 
 came to worship and sacrifice while they lived, and 
 when one died he was embalmed with all the art and 
 ceremony Egypt could muster and buried with pomp 
 and splendor seldom given a king. It is said, the 
 cost of the funeral of one of these bulls was nearly 
 one hundred thousand dollars in our money, which 
 in that day would have been indeed a fortune. To 
 the tomb of the bull's mummy the people flocked 
 with their worship and their offerings. When a 
 bull died the priests were given the task of travel- 
 ing through Egypt seeking for his successor. He 
 was selected something like our prize calves are 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 151 
 
 selected at our agricultural fairs. When one was 
 found whose marks and qualifications satisfied the 
 priests, he was elevated to the divine throne and 
 taken to the sacred temple where he spent the rest 
 of his days in circumstances becoming his position. 
 The religious ideas of that fargone day were in- 
 deed strange and seem harsh and shocking to us, 
 and yet there is something about it all that had a 
 fascination for the people of those days, and in the 
 study of that religion, like the study of all religions 
 of heathen and semi-heathen people, we were struck 
 with the fact that the heart always has had up- 
 reachings for something Eternal. Egypt spent all 
 her energy, resources and marvelous wisdom and 
 skill in her effort to lay her hand on something 
 Eternal, and herein lies the chief charm of all her 
 greatness and the wonderful works she has left the 
 world. There is something touching and pathetic 
 about how she spent herself to do these things. She 
 believed in the Eternal with all her soul, though her 
 ideas were vague and clouded with the superstition 
 of her age. She longed for the Eternal and spent all 
 her powers to lay her hands upon it. All the pyra- 
 mids, sphinx, temples and statues were built at an 
 expenditure of time and strength that staggers the 
 swiftest mind. The idea in their building was to 
 have something that would last, something that the 
 storms of future years could not blow away, some- 
 thing that would be eternal. There is something in 
 the heart that can but honor those who build that 
 way. 
 
152 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 They brought all the skill of their fine arts, 
 now unknown, to bear, that they might so embalm 
 their bodies that all coming years could not crum- 
 ble them away, for they believed the soul was eter- 
 nal and when it left the body it went through a 
 series of preparations getting ready for the better 
 world. If it was unworthy of that better world, it 
 was sent into some animal that it might be dis- 
 ciplined and punished. Thus, through a continued 
 journey of animal existence it made its way up- 
 ward or downward until called for to enter its eter- 
 nat state. The body must be made eternal for the 
 soul to occupy, so the body was embalmed. If the 
 body was not thus preserved, the soul would have 
 no eternal dwelling place, but must wander home- 
 less through the ages to come. Food was placed in 
 the tomb for the body and also for the soul when 
 it came to visit the body. This food was embalmed 
 for the body, but many offerings of food were 
 placed in the tomb near the body for the soul on 
 its regular visits. The loved ones and friends looked 
 after this and were encouraged in their faith when 
 on future visits to these tombs they found their of- 
 ferings gone, never wondering which beat in the 
 race for that dinner, the soul or the priest. Thus 
 before the days of the Pope, did the priests feed 
 themselves fat on the stupidity of their worshipers. 
 There were many more things of interest in this 
 great museum which have been brought to light by 
 the long and faithful efforts of the explorers of 
 America, England and France, but we must pass 
 from them. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 153 
 
 We next visited the old Citadel which is now 
 known as the "Tomb of the Mamelukes." This will 
 always bring keen and cruel visions to the student 
 of Egyptian history. The "Mamelukes" or "White- 
 slaves," were the lieutenants of Mohammed Ali, the 
 great ruler and maker of the present Egypt. What 
 Diaz was to the Mexico of the past generation, Mo- 
 hammed Ali was to the Egypt of the past genera- 
 tion. The Egyptian was even more cruel and des- 
 potic than the Mexican, but like him, did some great 
 constructive work in the government of his people. 
 The Egyptian's work was greater and when he 
 passed away the hand of England reached out to 
 conserve and carry on the work to higher and better 
 achievements and not let it all be lost by rebellions 
 and strife. 
 
 Mohammed Ali in building up his kingdom se- 
 lected some trusted men to help him. These men 
 were true to their leader and wrought well to bring 
 him to the zenith of power and glory. When Mo- 
 hammed Ali had Egypt in his iron grip, he grew 
 jealous and uneasy for fear the Mamelukes who had 
 brought him into power might turn their hands 
 against his to take that power from him, so he de- 
 vised a scheme to rid himself of them, which in its 
 diabolical conception and bloody execution would 
 suit the taste of a Nero and gladden the soul of the 
 Archfiend who delights to see blood flow. He in- 
 vited four hundred and eighty of these, trusted 
 lieutenants, to feast in the citadel, and when the 
 festivities were at their highest, his soldiers, who 
 had been concealed by him in the building, at a given 
 
154 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 signal, opened fire upon them. Mohammed Ali list- 
 ened quietly to the dying groans of those who had 
 made him king of Egypt and saw them lying in 
 their blood. When the bloody deed was over he 
 quietly remarked that nothing now was between 
 him and the undisputed sovereignty of Egypt. One 
 of the Mamelukes escaped by mounting his horse 
 and forcing him to leap the walls of the citadel, and 
 in spite of the rain of fire, made good his escape to 
 the Mokattam hills. A little over a half century ago, 
 he could be seen on the streets of Cairo, an old man 
 with white whiskers, quietly going on his way. 
 
 One of the deeds of Mohammed Ali was the build- 
 ing of the Mahmaadiah canal from the Nile to the 
 city of Alexandria. This canal irrigated the sur- 
 rounding country and made possible the rebuilding 
 by Mohammed Ali of the modern city of Alexandria. 
 This canal,before the railroad was constructed from 
 Alexandria to Cairo, connected the two cities, with 
 a medium of traffic, bringing from Cairo, the inland 
 city, the commerce of the Nile and taking from 
 Alexandria to Cairo the commerce of the seas. This 
 was one of the greatest things that could have been 
 done for Egypt at the time, in opening up the trade 
 for Egypt's cotton and other products. The canal 
 is forty miles long. Twenty-five thousand natives, 
 many of them men, women and children, worked on 
 this task, digging the mud and dirt with their hands 
 under the fierce rays of Egypt's burning sun and 
 the still fiercer lash of the overseer's whip. From 
 fever, dug up in the mud, and exposure and cruelty, 
 nearly three thousand died before the work was 
 done. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 155 
 
 We also visited Shooba palace, where Mohammed 
 Ali spent the closing years of his old age, surrounded 
 by wealth and luxury becoming the mighty monarch 
 he believed himself to be. Here, he lived at peace 
 and in ease, notwithstanding the stormy life that 
 lay behind him, so full of blood and horrors. His 
 favorite pastime was sitting on his gorgeous cush- 
 ions smoking his long Turkish pipe and ordering 
 his servants to take the ladies of his harem out upon 
 his lake in little boats and at his order, upset the 
 boat and give them a good ducking. As the old 
 fellow beheld them floundering in the water and 
 screaming in their fright, he would laugh until the 
 tears ran down his cheeks. It is strange how the 
 heart of a criminal can amuse itself and stranger 
 still the things bloody hands will take for their play- 
 things. 
 
 Egypt's greatest blessing is the Nile. It is 
 Egypt's life. Without the Nile there would be no 
 Egypt. Unless the life-giving waters flow down upon 
 Egypt's fertile lands they will be like the barren 
 deserts on each side. On one side are the Libyan 
 mountains and the limitless sands of the deserts, 
 while on the other side the Arabian desert with its 
 unknown sea of sand running from the Nile to the 
 Red Sea and southward through the great Sahara 
 to Central Africa. Here, in this world of sand, lies 
 Egypt. Wherever the waters of the Nile go Egypt 
 goes, and where the water stops, Egypt stops. The 
 line that divides Egypt from the desert is as plain 
 as the line dividing the land from the sea. Through 
 all the slow-going centuries it has been a fight be- 
 
156 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 tween life and death, between the waters of the Nile 
 and the sands of the deserts. When the lack of rain 
 has kept back the waters the desert has closed in 
 on Egypt, and when fall rains have again overflown 
 the Nile, Egypt has pushed the desert back, thus 
 preaching a mighty sermon on "Everything shall 
 live where the river cometh," Ezk. 47 :9 Wherever 
 the river does not come, nothing can live. Thus it 
 is with the River of Life that flows from the Hills 
 of God. It is a fight in the lives of men between 
 that river and the Desert of Sin. Wherever the 
 river goes, the sands of sin turn to an oasis of 
 heavenly life, and when the waters of the river are 
 kept back, the deserts of death and sin close in on 
 the soul, producing famine and death just like a 
 drought will do for Egypt. Many times famine and 
 death have come because the waters of the Nile have 
 not come. The seven years of plenty in the days of 
 Pharaoh were seven years of the Nile's full waters 
 going out into all Egypt's borders to make the har- 
 vest come. The seven years of famine were seven 
 years the Nile waters did not come down, and the 
 deserts closed in to take Egypt's life away. So, in 
 all our lives the years of plenty are the years when 
 the River of God runs full and free through our 
 souls and the years of famine are the years when 
 we let the desert's sand bear down upon us and the 
 River of Life cannot come to bless us. 
 
 The Nile is the longest river of the earth, being 
 over three thousand miles in length. For many cen- 
 turies only half of this distance up to the first 
 cataract had been explored it rerrfained for Henry 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 157 
 
 M. Stanley, who found the body of David Living- 
 ston and opened dark Africa to the world, to find the 
 sourcces of the Nile many hundreds of miles further 
 in the interior of the great unknown wilderness. 
 The ancients, not knowing from whence the Nile 
 came, believed its source and origin were from di- 
 vine sources. They thought it bubbled up in the 
 fields of Paradise and at its source the angels drank 
 and bathed and then the waters ran on to bless the 
 race. They naturally deified the river and wor- 
 shipped it. So when Moses, by God's order, turned 
 the waters of the Nile into blood, causing it to yield 
 death instead of life, it was a humiliating and 
 deadly thrust at their god. 
 
 Through the spring rains in the Nile basin it rises 
 for several weeks, gathering in its long journey, 
 rich deposits which it takes down to Egypt as well 
 as its moisture. One truly remarkable thing about 
 this great river is that for the last fifteen hundred 
 miles of its journey it has no tributary. The burn- 
 ing sun pours down upon its waters to dry them up, 
 and seldom does a drop of rain fall to pay back the 
 debt. The deserts on each side run down to take 
 up its waters and all that long distance it is the 
 only source of life for the multitude of people and 
 living things, and the population of more than 
 twelve million souls, and yet it is not exhausted. 
 
 For centuries in art and literature the Nile has 
 been honored by the earth as well as by the people 
 who depend upon it for life. In the Vatican in 
 Rome, there is a stature of Father Nile, the father 
 of Egypt, leaning on the Sphinx, with sixteen pyg- 
 
158 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 mies playing over him. They represent the sixteen 
 cubits' rise of the Nile as it flows by the Sphinx, 
 which will give life and plenty to Egypt. If the six- 
 teen pygmies climb on the old fellow as he leans on 
 the Sphinx it means blessings to the people. 
 
 The richness of the Nile Valley is almost beyond 
 conception. The harvests it produces is unequalled 
 by any spot on the earth ; corn grows like a wilder- 
 ness and its height and thickness looks black 
 in its richness. Cotton and sugar cane likewise 
 flourish in a way that is astonishing to see. Every- 
 where we went we saw the half naked inhabitants 
 lounging about or taking their siesta in the shade, 
 if it was the middle of the day. Sometimes they were 
 working in a lazy way, plowing their buffalo oxen or 
 driving them around their irrigating machine which 
 is constructed something like our cane mills The 
 beast goes round, turning a big wheel on which are 
 buckets of some kind which go down into the water 
 and fill themselves and as the wheel revolves, rise to 
 the top to dump their water into the ditch from 
 which it runs out into the fields. Sometimes these 
 buckets are nothing but old pumpkin shells. The 
 men then get out in their bare feet, in the dirt and 
 mud where the water runs, open a little channel 
 with their toes for the water to run from each row 
 to each plant. It is not a very clean or healthy look- 
 ing task. When I looked on this scene I called to 
 mind the words of Moses in Deut 11 :10 "For the 
 Land whither thou goest in to possess it, is not the 
 land of Egypt from whence ye come out, where thou 
 sowest thy seed and waterest it with thy foot, as a 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 159 
 
 garden of herbs." Whatever theologians and com- 
 mentators had said about this text, the picture was 
 there before me to speak for itself. Many times the 
 Israelites hdd done this filthy and unhealthy work, 
 for it was all the way Egypt had to get a harvest. 
 But God was leading them out of this land that thus 
 depended upon life for its crops, to a land He Him- 
 self would water from the skies. 
 
 We saw many of the water buffaloes working at 
 their task of irrigation and cultivation or lying 
 in the water covered with mud to keep them cool 
 and save them from the flies and fleas. Many times 
 we saw them coming up out of the Nile where they 
 had buried themselves, all but their faces, like 
 Pharaoh saw in his dream. All we saw were fat 
 and not lean, for Egypt was not in a famine then 
 and they could find plenty to eat. We saw many 
 date trees full of dates. These trees grow up with 
 a long trunk, bushy at the top, containing several 
 bunches of dates often so large that a single bunch 
 will make a bushel. These dates are a popular and 
 very useful fruit throughout the East. They are de- 
 licious and very wholesome. 
 
 In Egypt as well as throughout all the Eastern 
 lands the middle of the day is very hot. From about 
 eleven o'clock until three the sun is so hot that no- 
 body but the natives who are hardened to it can 
 endure it, while in the shade you can keep very 
 comfortable. The people are in the habit of sleep- 
 ing or taking their siesta as they call it. The stores 
 and business places close and if you go out shop- 
 ping you can hardly find a place to buy anything. 
 
160 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 A few of the poorer natives go on at their tasks, 
 but the most of them forget their troubles in sleep. 
 It is at first a strange and amusing scene to see 
 people everywhere you go, taking this long nap. 
 The "well-to-do" lie in their homes upon their 
 beds or rugs, or perhaps the men close their shops 
 and lie down at the door or in the shade near by. 
 The poor can be seen in great numbers sleeping 
 in the dirt in the streets or in dirty houses where 
 dogs, donkeys, goats and folks in one tangled mass 
 forget their burdens in "nature's sweet restorer/' 
 I laughed at these people for what seemed at first 
 to be their laziness, and the first morning we came 
 in from sight seeing I decided to strike out down 
 town to see what I could find, but before I got back 
 my brain was almost cooked in the hottest sun I 
 ever felt, and I concluded they knew better than I 
 did. I did not sleep for I could never do much of 
 that in the day but I was content to seek a shady 
 spot and stay there until the rising breezes and the 
 receding sun brought in a better hour. About three 
 o'clock the air changes, a breeze begins to blow and 
 from then on it is very comfortable. I found only 
 three or four nights too warm for comfort and 
 suffered far more from heat after I returned to 
 Virginia than I did in Egypt and Palestine. The 
 greatest difference is in the burning sun of the East ; 
 sometimes instead of a sea breeze the breeze will 
 blow in from the desert. It is called a Sirocco and 
 makes life almost unbearable, we encountered one, 
 of which I will speak later on. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 161 
 
 One night in Cairo we attended the Feast of 
 Ramadan, the greatest feast of the Mohammedan 
 Church. They celebrate it after a long fast, and, 
 like some folks higher up in the scale of culture, 
 they seem to make their feasting more strenuous 
 than their fasting. I had never seen anything like 
 that event and never expect to behold its like again. 
 It was held in a big park in the city, which was 
 enclosed, and all who entered had to go in at the 
 gate and present a ticket to the keeper. As we de- 
 sired to behold Mohammedanism at its best as well 
 as at its worst, we secured tickets and went. I 
 wish I had the power to describe that event but it 
 is impossible. There was no end to the people; it 
 seemed that half the world was there; the multi- 
 tude was made up of all classes, from the Governor 
 and his Company to the waifs and outcasts, but 
 the great and the gay seemed to predominate. It 
 would be hard to find decorations and display to 
 equal it, while the costumes worn were staggering 
 to the senses. Some of the people were indeed fine 
 looking. We saw some of the prettiest women we 
 saw on the entire trip and some of the finest 
 looking men. One man, a commander-in-chief of the 
 event, I think was the handsomest man I ever saw. 
 In many different places celebrations of various 
 kinds were in progress with crowds entering into 
 them wjith great interest and enthusiasm. The 
 crowd that seemed to have no end, moved on in 
 song and celebration; old Egypt seemed to be 
 awake, she seemed to be coming up from the dust- 
 covered cemetery of the centuries in pomp and 
 
162 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 splendor to sit upon her throne again even though 
 that throne was that of Mohammed. The old coun- 
 try was on fire and she was on dress parade. The 
 spendor, dazzle and glitter of that celebration in 
 its wierd mixture of ancient Egypt, the Prophet of 
 Mecca and modern things can never be forgotten. 
 The Feast of Ramadan must be seen, however, to 
 be understood; no man can describe it. 
 
 But we must bid you good-bye, O Egypt, and make 
 our way toward Rome. Our days within your borders 
 have been full of interest and into our tomorrows 
 we will carry with us the charm of your yesterdays. 
 Great hast thou been, Egypt ! Wonderful upon the 
 page of human history ; tracing back thy beginning 
 over the sands of the centuries until thy tracks are 
 lost in the sands of dim and distant days. Thou 
 art the mother of all the civilizations the earth has 
 known! You were white with age when the foun- 
 dations of Rome were laid! You were looking back 
 over the sands of your long-gone yesterdays when 
 Solomon dedicated the Temple of the Lord in the 
 City of Jerusalem. Long before the glories of Greece 
 surged about the parthenon you were wearing the 
 white of the centuries on your head; Land of 
 Magic and wonders so full of buried glory and rich- 
 ness in things that are gone! Land of Cleopatra and 
 Anthony! Land of the Pharaohs and their mighty 
 deeds! Land of Israel's redemption from famine, 
 oppression in tyranny and deliverance from bond- 
 age ! Land of the mighty Joseph and birth place of 
 the Law Giver of God! Long will the work of thy 
 hands still stand to dazzle the gaze of those who 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 163 
 
 walk beside thy wondrous river that flows on as 
 it has since the world was young, to bless thy peo- 
 ple until its journey ended, its work done, it pours 
 itself from its seven mouths, out upon the sea! 
 Before thy greatness is gone and thy glory buried, 
 may there come out of the storms that sweep the 
 earth, a better day for thee, and may some hand 
 lift thee up to a better place among the people of 
 the earth! Yea, may the Christ thou dids't shelter 
 from old Herod, who sought his death, come to thee 
 like Moses from over Midian sands and lead thee 
 out from the dust-covered centuries to a greatness 
 more lasting than thy pyramids! 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CLIMBING THE GREAT PYRAMID 
 
 An experience to which I had looked forward with 
 keen interest was that of climbing the pyramid of 
 Cheops. While it is a hard and dangerous under- 
 taking, I had firmly made up my mind, if I was per- 
 mitted to get there, I would not leave until I had 
 stood on top of this great wonder of the world and 
 looked out over the land of Egypt. 
 
 The race of man has never left a greater wonder 
 on the sands of time than these pyramids of Egypt 
 of which Cheops, or the Great Pyramid, is the most 
 famous. No description or array of figures and fan- 
 cies can give a clear impression of this mighty mon- 
 ster sitting through the slow-going centuries on the 
 sands of the desert. When you stand beside it and 
 look up its enormous sides, or put forth your 
 strength to reach its top, climbing over its massive 
 stones so high up in the air, you almost feel like the 
 old fellow who visited his first circus. The elephant 
 engaged his special attention. He walked around 
 the great beast several times gazing in wonder at 
 his wonderful, giant form. He looked at his tail 
 and then at his snout and head; he watched him 
 take his food in his snout and put it back in his 
 mouth. Unable to endure the sight any longer he 
 walked away in disgust, exclaiming, "There ain't 
 no such animal no how !" 
 
 The base of this pyramid covers thirteen acres of 
 land a small farm, and contains eighty-five million 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 165 
 
 cubic feet of solid masonry. Many of the stones 
 from top to bottom measure from four to six feet 
 in their height, length and thickness, and look as 
 large as two pianos put together. How these great 
 stones were ever put in place with such scientific 
 exactness, I haven't time to explain. The heighth 
 is nearly five hundred feet. It has masonry enough 
 in it to build a rock wall ten feet high and a foot 
 and a half thick around the states of North Caro- 
 lina, South Carolina, Georgia, Virginia, Tennessee, 
 Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana, and 
 have nearly five thousand miles of wall left over. 
 It is built in the form of great stairs, and while the 
 wearing weather of centuries and the still more de- 
 structive hand of man have made the stones crum- 
 ble somewhat, unless some earth-quake destroys it 
 it will perish only when Eternity's storms bear all 
 things away on their winds. The outer surface was 
 finished with hard cement but this is gone, leaving 
 the stones rough, which makes it safer to climb. 
 It must have been a sight of unequalled beauty and 
 wonder when thus complete, it stood out on the 
 sands with the sun shining on its sides. 
 
 Many strange, weird theories have been advanced 
 as to the plan and purpose of this pyramid in the 
 Divine Plan and final destiny of things. These ideas 
 have been discussed with such length and learning 
 as to stagger ordinary minds. It has been shown 
 that the building is perfect in its mathematical and 
 scientific construction, sitting to the four points 
 of the compass with no stone varying a hair's 
 breadth in its position. Strange and extensive re- 
 
166 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 cesses wfithin, with many symbols and measure- 
 ments, have been understood to point out all the eras 
 and events of the world's history and from them the 
 learned have figured with a final nicety, not only the 
 past, but the future of the world's history, even to 
 the day of its passing away. Such theories are wise 
 and deep and profound but miss widely the mean- 
 ing of this mystery of stone. Whatever the Al- 
 mighty had to do with its building He did not mean 
 this. 
 
 The question rises, what is this strange thing, 
 and why would any set of men spend so much la- 
 bor and expense to build such a structure? The 
 answer is simple: It is a monument built by an 
 Egyptian king for himself, while he was living. The 
 recesses were for his body and those of his family. 
 The Egyptians believed much in eternal things, but 
 their eternal was built out of stone. A king had a 
 desire to build for himself a monument that would 
 end only with the world, and he was willing to spare 
 no expense or labor in the undertaking. It must be 
 admitted, his success is wonderful, and yet I could 
 not but think of the eternal monument built down 
 in Egypt by Joseph and Moses and not of stone. 
 Their monuments will stand. Millions of children 
 know who they were and how they built, but 
 the wisest doctors have disagreed on the man whose 
 brain thought out and hand put up this monument 
 of stone. 
 
 Then the question comes. How did they build it? 
 There is no quarry near. How did they get these 
 stones? Where did they come from? How many 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 167 
 
 men worked on the job? How did they put them 
 in place? How long did it take ? It is not good form 
 to answer all questions. Some must be left for the 
 students to find, and besides, the day is too hot to 
 do this subject justice, so I will hasten on to what 
 I set out to tell how I got up and down the Great 
 Pyramid. 
 
 We went on cars out of Cairo toward the pyra- 
 mids. At the end of the car line we transferred to 
 donkeys and camels, and turned our faces toward 
 the wide stretches of Sahara sands. Thinking a 
 camel more in keeping with such a journey I selected 
 mine. As I looked him over I became more and more 
 impressed with his ancient mien and stately dignity. 
 He seemed to have the manners of the Pharaohs and 
 the odor of those dim centuries of the past. Had 
 his owners told me he was gotten out of the pyra- 
 mids and was ridden by Pharaoh when he pursued 
 Israel to the Red Sea I should have raised no ques- 
 tion. He looked it. While I have read elsewhere 
 Pharaoh rode in a chariot, that might have been a 
 misused word, for chariot and camel in the language 
 of Egypt, sound very much alike. But when I 
 looked my beast in the face my feeling of wonder, 
 ecstasy and reverence knew no bounds. It seemed 
 that all the tragedy of the centuries and the woe 
 of the world was stamped upon his face. I never 
 knew before just how solemn, sad, serene pathetic 
 tragic a camel could look. His lips were hanging 
 down in woe and disgust ; his head was poised high 
 and still. Out upon the far-off line of the desert his 
 eyes were gazing at nothing in particular unless 
 
168 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 they were trying to rest upon the beginning line of 
 Egypt's history. At the sign from his driver the 
 camel lay down with precision and care. I mounted 
 to the saddle and at a punch from the driver he 
 groaned and complained as though he bore on his 
 back the woe of the world. But he began to get up. 
 He started to get up behind as all cud-chewing 
 beasts should, and he kept on getting up behind be- 
 fore he started to get up in front, until I was afraid 
 he would get up all the way behind before he got 
 up at all in front. When he had gotten up behind 
 until he seemed to be on a line with the top of the 
 pyramid, he started to get up in front and I thought 
 he would get up in front beyond where he 
 had got up behind. At length he stopped getting 
 up and I suppose he was all up, but when I looked 
 at him in front he looked higher than he did behind 
 and when I looked at him behind he looked higher 
 than he did in front. 
 
 At length we started for the pyramid, some on 
 camels and some on donkeys. When I tried to guide 
 my beast or induce him to go faster he rolled his 
 eyes up at me, dropped his lower lip still lower, 
 lolled out his tongue, humped up his back and bel- 
 lowed out in a way that made me entirely agree 
 with what he said. Every camel and donkey had 
 a driver with a large number thrown in for good 
 measure. They were along to entertain us and make 
 the journey seem short by crying out for back- 
 sheesh, begging to tell our fortunes rubbing our 
 feet with their uncanny hands and other innocent 
 pastimes. My driver Mohammed, soon managed to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 169 
 
 get my beast out of line with the others and at my 
 question as to the meaning of it he informed me 
 there was something very interesting behind a near- 
 by sand dune that he wanted me to see as it would 
 take only a few minutes. I stormed at him like I 
 meant to feed his flesh to the eagles, post haste, and 
 ordered him back in line under all the penalties I 
 could remember, chief of which, not a coin would he 
 get unless he went, and he went. 
 
 When we reached the great wonder of the desert 
 we prepared to gaze up its age-long sides, lost in ad- 
 miration, but it was not to be so, at least, not just 
 then. Rather, we forgot the greatness of Egypt's 
 past as we faced the greediness of Egypt's present. 
 It seemed that they rose from the sands or fell 
 down from the sky like a flock of big white birds. 
 They bore down upon us, a mighty company of eagles 
 that gather about the pyramid to feed upon the tour- 
 ists. These guides are Egyptians who wear white 
 garments and go bare-foot. In the evening shadows, 
 in their robes, under the great pyramid, they seemed 
 spirits of a dead age and we seemed in the ceme- 
 tery of dead dynasties. The whole atmosphere seemed 
 so mixed with the supernatural and the satanic, 
 the dead and the living, the past and the future, 
 that a hypnotic trance seemed to come down upon us 
 and fixed us so these fellows could play us in their 
 hands. Nobody can describe the atmosphere about 
 the pyramids and how these fellows carry on their 
 business. I doubt if the world could produce a set 
 of men who can skin you with better skill and send 
 you away happy, like they do. You go away penni- 
 
170 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 less but charmed, and in the chambers of your soul, 
 where you keep your acquaintances, you give them 
 the front seats. They are wonderful fellows. 
 
 The British government requires two of these 
 guides to accompany each tourist. One is to hold 
 while the other skins. You feel you can make the 
 journey without help but it isn't long until you are 
 glad you have two and you would be glad for another 
 one. I selected two of the oldest and steadiest look- 
 ing ones I saw. They were both Egyptian doctors, 
 Dr. Macboon, the more charming of the two, was 
 indeed an interesting gentleman. (I enquired 
 of my old friend on my recent visit and learned 
 he died of the ravages of war.) He informed us 
 he was the man who carried Mark Twain up, and 
 whom Mark offered a hundred dollars to jump off 
 and break his neck. However I met about twenty 
 others who also claimed the honor. They certainly 
 do know Mark Twain around the pyramids. The doc- 
 tor also told me he carried the late King Edward of 
 England up to the top when he was Prince of Wales 
 and in proof of the fact showed me where the prince 
 carved his royal name and the date. One of the medi- 
 cine men took me by one arm and the other by the 
 other arm and I started sky-ward with the feeling 
 that I was either going to an executive chair or an 
 electric chair. When we came to two paths up the 
 rocks where feet for centuries had climbed, one of 
 them would go one way with part of me and the 
 other the other way with the rest of me, and when 
 they went to lift me from one of the high ledges to 
 the other, one would go up with part of me and the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 171 
 
 other would lag behind with the other part. When 
 it seemed we had gone almost to the front door of 
 the moon, Dr. Macboon asked if I wanted to rest. 
 I tried to nod my head. We sat down on a ledge of 
 rock somewhere between heaven and earth and he 
 asked me to look down at the view. I had lost most 
 of my sense but I had enough not to look down. One 
 sat on each side of me as close as they could get, 
 holding my hand and looking with all their power 
 into my soul, like two snakes charming a bird to his 
 doom. They pressed my hands and rubbed them in 
 a way that made creeping chills in spite of the heat, 
 run through my blood. Their sharp black ' eyes 
 seemed saintly and satanic. Their face so close to 
 mine wore a dusky veil from buried centuries. Their 
 voices were soft and low and sweet and calm, and 
 yet fiendish in their insidious penetration. They 
 seemed to link the dead and dusty past with the 
 dim and distant future. Before me stretched the 
 wide expanse of Sahara's sands with mighty waves, 
 all still as though the hand of God had struck an 
 ocean dead. A caravan of camels ships of the des- 
 ert far out on the horizon, like a fleet, moved slow- 
 ly, bringing spices down to Egypt. The sun was 
 going down across the desert, where a sea of sand 
 merged into a sea of fire. The light was shining 
 on the sides of this old rock mountain, built when 
 the world was young, and it was shining on the 
 ghostly forms holding my hands and whispering in 
 my ear. They asked if they were satisfying me, I 
 said they were; they then wanted me to satisfy 
 them, and then and there pay them the first instal- 
 
172 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ment of what money I had, feeling sure they would 
 get it all before they told me good-bye. Did I get 
 scared and hand over my money as most tourists 
 do? No; as strange as it may seem I was charmed, 
 half dazed with the feat before me, intoxicated with 
 the atmosphere about me, I felt my blood throb for 
 adventure. I was ready to go or come. There was a 
 game before me and in my dazed condition I longed 
 to play it. So I resolved to hold my nerve, for with 
 them, once your nerve is gone, you are gone. I 
 refused to pay by installment but told them to take 
 me up and down safely and I would treat them right. 
 Dr. Macboon then wanted to tell my fortune. I 
 told him I did not care to have my fortune told, I 
 was trying to forget the past and didn't want him 
 digging that up and just at that time I thought it un- 
 wise to nose into the future. I didn't think that was 
 any time or place for such performances. He then 
 put his hand back in his belt or sash and began to 
 bring out things for my inspection. The first was 
 a little mummy-like Pharaoh he had gotten out of 
 the pyramid and he wanted to sell it to me. I told 
 him I had not expected to go in the undertaking 
 business and did not care to have a corpse on my 
 hands, ascending the pyramid, but if the corpse was 
 alright and he would carry it down for me, I would 
 take it. He wanted pay then but I told him I would 
 not pay him until we reached the end of our journey, 
 then I would pay him what I thought it was worth. 
 He next brought out some sacred bugs. These I 
 likewise bargained for as I did other things. His 
 belt was a regular museum. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 173 
 
 When rested, we resumed our journey and after a 
 few repetitions of our first rest spell, found our- 
 selves on the top of the great pyramid looking out 
 on the sands. Dr. Macboon told me I was faint and 
 needed something to revive me. I readily agreed to 
 this but asked him what I could get up there. He 
 turned around behind to an Egyptian sitting on his 
 feet beside some burning charcoals and handed me a 
 cup of the best coffee I have ever tasted, for which I 
 paid him five cents. I told the doctor that pre- 
 scription cost less and did more good than was 
 sometimes the case in America. Several of our folks 
 were almost exhausted when they reached the top. 
 It was a wonderful sight. The area on top is thirty 
 feet square, composed of huge stones. 
 
 After a period of rest and meditation we de- 
 scended. At the bottom our parting came. It is a 
 matter of getting away from them any way yau can. 
 I offered Dr. Macboon a sum for his trinkets, which 
 I knew he would not take. He gave me an Egyptian 
 water pitcher which I greatly appreciated and car- 
 ried through all the rest of the journey and brought 
 home. It sets on the table before me as I write. In 
 the Oriental style I gave him a gift of some money 
 in return (not buying but exchanging presents) I 
 then paid them thirty cents each for their services 
 and went my way. Some were out many times this. 
 In values as they are there, this was more than they 
 were worth, but I was very much surprised to get 
 off so easy. That climb was a very violent ex- 
 perience. My clothes were torn to pieces and I was 
 sore for a week. 
 
174 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 The Sphinx another wonder of the world 
 stands near the great pyramid. It was a heathen 
 temple used by the Egyptians for funeral services 
 and other religious rites. The Sphinx stands in front 
 of the temple itself which is almost buried with 
 the sands, which must constantly be cleaned away to 
 prevent the winds from covering it up deeper. It 
 is a great stone monster with the head of a human 
 and the body of a lion which represents a union of 
 intelligence and strength. It measures in height 
 sixty-four feet. It seems to stand here on the edge 
 of the sea of sand and on the edge of the centuries 
 guarding ancient Egypt's buried treasures. That 
 motionless face gazes out on the sands and the cen- 
 turies. The stare upon its face is strange, mystic, 
 painful. It seems to fix its gaze beyond the things 
 that are to be. Certainly its gaze is fixed on things 
 far off and not on us. It has thus been looking on 
 things while the slow moving centuries have moved 
 over its heads and storms that no man can number 
 have dashed their rain, wind and sands in its face. 
 Those set eyes were gazing as they are now before 
 a single living nation was born. They have looked 
 on kingdoms' flourish and fall. They beheld Rome 
 in her glory and Rome in her gloom. They looked 
 on Greece in her sun shine and Greece in her shad- 
 ows. They were looking on before there was an 
 England or an English race. They saw the Nile 
 roll on before Abraham came down to Egypt and 
 they saw Israel go out on their hunt for the Prom- 
 ised Land. This object is supposed to be the oldest 
 remaining work of man's hands. The head is per- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 175 
 
 fectly formed and the features in the main have 
 stood the weather of the centuries without being 
 destroyed. The head is carved from one huge piece 
 of stone and is a hundred and two feet around. The 
 time, labor and skill in producing this mammoth 
 figure with all its perfect features and workman- 
 ship history does not say and man does not know. 
 It has no beauty to be admired but there comes a 
 strange charm, as, looking in its face you see how 
 lonely, how still, how changeless it has been through 
 the centuries. The face has not moved, the eyes 
 have not closed, the lips have not spoken and yet, 
 as you look, those eyes seem to see, that head seems 
 to hold countless secrets in a throbbing brain and 
 those lips seem about to tell you many things. 
 "0 Voiceless Sphinx 
 
 Thy solemn lips are dumb, 
 Time's awful secrets holdest thou in thy breast, 
 
 Age follows age revering pilgrims come 
 From every clime to urge the same request 
 
 That thou woulds't speak. Poor creatures of a day, 
 In calm disdain thou seest them die away. 
 Voiceless Sphinx." 
 
 MY FORTUNE IS TOLD ON THE PYRAMID 
 
 I have never believed in fortune tellers. I was 
 raised to believe they were servants of the devil. 
 On my first visit to Egypt, I maintained my integ- 
 rity on this point. I went and came without allow- 
 ing the snaky eyes of an Egyptian mystic to gaze 
 in mv hand. But the last visit, when I reached the 
 
176 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Pyramids, I backslid. I made the tours without 
 drinking strong drink, or murdering any European 
 waiters and pirates which is a commendable record. 
 I did not cut loose from my moral moorings like 
 some tourists, who are high up at home but low 
 down away from home, but when I reached the 
 heights of the Pyramid of Cheops, I fell. This is a 
 good place to fall in more ways than one. Stately 
 Presbyterian Elders, who have kept in the middle of 
 the road of the perseverence of saints, have slipped 
 up here and said things and done things under these 
 provocations, that they had never done before and 
 will never do again. Orthodox Episcopal Vestrymen 
 and Rectors have caused their robes to trail in the 
 dust of Egypt's dead dynasties when they met the 
 temptations of the Pyramids, and long after they 
 reach home they sadly say, "We have done many 
 things, we ought not to have done and left undone 
 t>i any things we ought to have done." And Baptists 
 and Methodists with their weakness and bent to 
 sinning, stand no more chance of getting out without 
 backsliding than a mouse going thru a cattery. 
 
 As before, we rode our camels over the sandy 
 path to the base of this mountain of rock. As soon 
 as we crossed the line of safety, they bore down upon 
 us. There was a small army of these guides, ven- 
 ders, fortune tellers, beggars, doctors, sheiks, sen- 
 tinals, quack performers, advisors, photographers, 
 donkey boys, camel boys, and several others I do not 
 classify. It was a hungry horde of hideous hounds, 
 and every second the mass grew larger, drawing re- 
 cruits in a mysterious way from nobody knows 
 
>. 
 
 - 
 
 in 
 
 
 
 g 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 177 
 
 where. They seemed to drop out of the sky, crawl 
 out of the ground and appear by magic. One would 
 be whispering in your ear, with his hot breath on 
 your cheek, and you didn't know where he came 
 from. They begged, teased, pled, talked, danced, sang 
 and pressed their case in such varied and persistent 
 ways, that you were soon like a bird in a snake cage. 
 You declined, threatened, yelled, roared, pawed and 
 said emphatic things while they sweetly smiled and 
 came back unabashed. 
 
 I remembered what was said about Moses not far 
 from here, when he saw some of these fellows pester- 
 ing a fellow Hebrew. He looked this way and that, 
 and when he saw no one was looking he slew the 
 Egyptian and buried him in the sand. Time after 
 time I tried this but others were always looking. 
 
 One poor brother had been bedraggled, pestered 
 and tormented until his money was gone as well as 
 his patience, with his hair standing up and his eyes 
 shining like a madman he yelled. 
 
 "I aint going to give you narry nother cent. You 
 didn't do what you promised. I will take your picture 
 and report you to the police." 
 
 And Frank McKJnney of Petersburg he who was 
 always so gentle, kind and quiet with such good 
 manners when all his patience ran thru that sand 
 and fire flashed in his eyes, I covered my face and 
 stopped my ears to shut out the tragedy. 
 
 And Dr. Squires, the Presbyterian he looked and 
 acted like another man. I am sure he needed a 
 Methodist revival after it was all over. I shall 
 never forget the faces of Mrs. Jarrett and Miss 
 
178 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Warlick, as the camels began to bellow and get up 
 in sections. 
 
 But never, no never can I forget my comrade 
 Welch. This is where all his reason took the wings 
 of the morning and flew up the Nile over the Mo- 
 kattem hills. His eyes had that look that makes you 
 feel like calling for the fire department, the police 
 and an alienist. He got on a camel, yelled some- 
 thing that almost made the Sphinx break her long 
 silence, and hitting that camel on the back with his 
 kodak, fled out on the wide wastes of burning sands 
 toward Sahara's stretches and Sudan's fastness. 
 I don't know where he went. The last time I saw 
 him he disappeared behind a sand hill, his coatta^l 
 flying as the camel with his wonderful waltz made 
 thirty-seven miles an hour, his tail straight out be- 
 hind (of course) and his head poised straight out 
 in front (of course) while about forty of these 
 wolves and pirates went with all speed after their 
 victim. 
 
 I never expected to see him again. I was plan- 
 ning to take charge of his museum and become his 
 executor. But he did turn up. He steered his brute 
 in a semicircle, keeping out of the way of his pur- 
 suers until he beat them back to British territory 
 and landed at the feet of an officer. 
 
 The ascent of the Pyramid and the Pyramid it- 
 self is described elsewhere and I will only mention 
 now the fortune telling on the top. There is not in 
 all the world, a place more weird, romantic, spooky, 
 fascinating, mystic than the top of Egypt's Pyramid, 
 as you set there gazing on the delta. With the Nile 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 179 
 
 and Cairo, Memphis, the Mokattem hills and rich 
 fields in one direction and the eternal wastes of sand 
 stretching out in the other direction. There is some- 
 thing strange that seems to rise up in your face and 
 sweep you under its intoxicating spell. It was while 
 thus sitting on the summit of Cheops, that the for- 
 tune teller took my hand and said he would read my 
 future for 40 cents. Then I fell I backslid right 
 then and there and let him do it. 
 
 He poured out a bag of magic sand and smoothed 
 it out on the rock. All the time he was looking into 
 the sun, muttering strange things, while with his 
 hands he made still stranger signs and motions. He 
 drew figures in the sand, put his face down close 
 to the sand pile and did more weird spooky 
 mutterings. He then took my hand, read the 
 line a second, looked in the sand a second, and 
 muttered something which was explained to me by 
 his assistant. My fortune as he told it was this 
 
 I would never be more than moderately rich. I 
 am sure he was safe on that. I was to be successful. 
 I was energetic and had a good disposition. Some- 
 thing was on my mind, which was true. Everybody 
 has something on his mind save Boob McNutt and 
 Happy Hooligan. He said I would soon get two 
 important letters, which turned out to be true. Most 
 letters are important and most folks now and then 
 get letters. One came three days later from my 
 wife, telling me to be sure and keep my face clean 
 when I went to London, and another came from a 
 Texas Oil Co., offering to make me a millionaire if 
 
180 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 I would buy a share of stock at ten dollars down and 
 the same at each full moon until the cows came home. 
 He then rolled the white of his eyes over toward the 
 Mokattem hills, looked closer in my hand and said 
 my greatest success was ahead of me. I would 
 change my position as well as my residence in a 
 short time and enter something entirely new. Next 
 year I would be happier than I had ever been. Of 
 course this has turned out to be exactly true. I was 
 to my surprise elected Editor of the Richmond 
 Christian Advocate and ought to be happy. Then he 
 told me if I would place eighteen more piasters in 
 his itching palm, he would tell me a much better for- 
 tune. I told him this one was entirely satisfactory 
 and if he told me one any better, I would be so over- 
 come, he would have to carry me down from the 
 Pyramid. 
 
 THE SHEIK AND THE SHRIEK 
 
 While we were at the Pyramid, a rare character 
 drove up. He was a distinguished looking oriental, 
 adorned in striking regalia with a great display of 
 many colors. He looked like a cross between the 
 High Priest of the Potentates of Potolemy and a 
 plain faker. He rode in a chariot that was a relic 
 of the dark ages of the past and the moontide of 
 the present. It had big iron wheels of the threshing 
 machine variety and a body on the Cleopatra type. 
 It was drawn by a flee bitten mouse colored ass. 
 We were told he was the Sheik of these tribes and 
 had made a personal visit here to see that we were 
 properly treated. For this favor and protection 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 181 
 
 all tourists were expected to make his Sheikship a 
 present. I never knew just what protection he gave 
 us. 
 
 Then came the Shriek. We call him this because 
 of his voice. He was a duck legged little Egyptian 
 with a shrieking voice like his radiator was leaking. 
 His eyes were snappy as a snake's. He offered to run 
 to the top of the Pyramid and back in twelve minutes 
 if we would give him two piasters (8j) each. He 
 came bowing before me as if I was the Governor 
 and asked my permission to go. I told him he could 
 go but I would not be responsible for the pay, nor 
 the support of his family after he committed suicide. 
 My words were lost on the desert sands. He was 
 off like a streak. Piasters to these pirates had been 
 scarce and he would do the daring deed and get the 
 backsheesh later if he could. I knew we would have 
 a big fuss about it, but it was well enough. We had 
 to have a fuss about something and it just as well 
 be this as anything else. 
 
 He made the trip back in less than twelve minutes. 
 Some folks expected him to fall dead from the heat 
 and exertion but he did not. He looked like a wild 
 man. His hair was standing up, his eyes red and 
 protruding, his mouth open, his nostrills distended 
 and he was gasping for breath like a wind broken 
 horse in a fire race. But he was after collecting his 
 piasters. He shrieked, cried, yelled, fell down, 
 moaned and did like a mad man. He tried to force 
 me to pay him for everybody and I almost had to 
 club him to keep him off of me. He kept on until he 
 collected from almost all, and he earned every piaster 
 
182 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD - 
 
 he got. Of all the fool things I ever saw a fool do 
 for money, that was the limit. 
 
 CAIRO UNIVERSITY 
 
 It was my pleasure and privilege while abroad to 
 register as a student in Cairo University which has 
 the largest enrollment of any institution of learning 
 in the world. I was duly awarded a regular degree 
 from this University. It was given me in due form 
 by the Dean, and is kept as a treasure. It has an 
 enrollment of over fourteen thousand students. I 
 had heard of its wonders but like Miss Sheba, they 
 didn't tell me fifty percent of the whole. Barnum 
 was an armateur at burlesque compared to tke 
 faculty of Cairo University. Instead of a great 
 building, we found a dirty old mosque well filled with 
 beggars, dogs and cooties. All these are perhaps 
 enrolled as students. It is in the dirtiest section of 
 Cairo and that is saying a good deal. Beggars, 
 babies and dogs slept on the floor and women were 
 drying their wash in one end of the mosque. Sev- 
 eral classes sat in groups on the floor on their feet 
 and moaned and drawled thru their noses as they 
 kept time by weaving their bodies back and forth 
 as the teacher directed. They used pieces of tin 
 and marked on them with black paint. All who enter 
 the grounds are counted as students. A number of 
 donkeys stood in the court too lazy to switch off the 
 flies. As I looked at my degree, I saw D. D. on it. I 
 had been honored in the East by Cairo University. 
 The greatest institution on earth had conferred 
 upon me the degree of donkey driver. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 183 
 
 THE BEAD BOY OF CAIRO 
 
 He had all the charm of the East. His manner 
 was gentle and gracious, his voice soft and musical, 
 his smile winning, is movements like a spirit and his 
 whole personality mystic. His name was Moham- 
 med and his name told his faith. But he was not 
 like most Mohammedans distant, repulsive, dis- 
 trustful. He seemed never so happy as when he 
 could noiselessly, mysteriously appear beside an 
 American and talk to him. He never seemed to be 
 an intruder, and no matter when he approached you, 
 you never felt he was out of place. 
 
 Other venders were kept out of the hotel but 
 Mohammed had right of way on the inside. The pa- 
 trons wanted him about. He didn't seem to be sell- 
 ing beads. His whole business seemed to be to help 
 by giving information of all kinds to those about the 
 hotel. But he was selling beads all the same. Morn- 
 ing, noon and night he sold them. He was dressed 
 in Oriental style, and many strings of beads hung 
 from his neck. He attracted attention to his beads 
 without letting you know it and soon you were in- 
 terested in them. If you saw a shining string and 
 wanted them, he quickly advised you as a friend not 
 to buy them, showing you their defect and comparing 
 them with the genuine. You felt he had saved you 
 from a foolish deal and you bought the other beads. 
 If he found a certain bead was popular, he appeared 
 later with more like them. If you asked for any 
 kind that he did not have, the next thing you knew 
 he stood by your side as if he rose from the floor 
 
184 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 with his sunny smile, holding those beads in his 
 hands. There was nothing you wanted or wanted to 
 know that Mohammed didn't bring to you on short 
 order. In all our homes, the ladies are wearing beads 
 bought from him and we will not soon forget him. 
 If Mohammed could come to America and become 
 a salesman, he would soon be in the firm of some big 
 establishment. He is a master artist in opening the 
 combination door of your heart, so he can walk in, 
 sit down and sell you his wares. 
 
 THE MODERN MAGICIANS OF EGYPT 
 
 I asked Mohammed if he could find a magician and 
 send him to the hotel that night. He said he had a 
 boy friend, who knew the art, and he would send 
 him around. After supper as I read near the hotel 
 window that opened on the street, I heard a sound 
 in the window "Br-br-urh-rrh" and looking up, 
 I saw a big white rabbit sitting on the window look- 
 ing at me. Guessing correctly the meaning of it, I 
 looked out in the street and saw Mohammed and a 
 youth, who claimed to be a lineal descendant of the 
 Master Craft of Egyptian magicians. And he proved 
 himself well able to establish his claim. We got 
 permission to use the hotel drawing room and took 
 him and our party there for one of the most interest- 
 ing demonstrations they ever witnessed. It would 
 be impossible for me to even poorly describe all he 
 did but a few things will be mentioned. 
 
 He pulled several eggs out of tjie rabbit's nose for 
 in some mystic way, everything seemed to depend 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 185 
 
 on the rabbit. Then he told two of us to hold the 
 ends of a cane, which we did with great care. He 
 took a lady's ring put it in his handerchief and then 
 wrapped the handerchief about the cane, jerked it 
 off and behold the ring was on the cane and how he 
 ever got the cane thru the ring with each of us hold- 
 ing an end, is a mystery, I can't solve. Th* ring then 
 disappeartd and he located it in a brass cup. He had 
 a set of ten cups within one another and the lids 
 fastened. The ring was inside of the last cup and 
 you could hear it before he even touched the cups. 
 The ring got away from him again and a man found 
 it inside of his coat pocket, and so far as I could see, 
 he did not get closer than eight feet to that man. 
 He pulled many strange things out of his ears, eyes 
 and nose, and did other stunts too numerous to relate. 
 He closed by blowing fire and smoke out of his mouth 
 and nose while thru the flames, he drew out bunting 
 containing all the flags of the Allies all out of his 
 mouth. He was not over eighteen but he was a 
 genius of the A grade and would make his mark as 
 well as money in America. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 AMONG THE TRADERS AND BEGGARS OF THE EAST. 
 
 One of the most interesting things in our travels 
 in the East was trading with the people and con- 
 tending with the beggars, for the most prolific crop 
 these countries raise is traders and beggars. They 
 block your way in almost every path and street; 
 they follow on your trail in hot and hungry hordes ; 
 they come upon you streaming out of alleys, huts 
 and holes; they swarm from the earth like armies 
 of locusts to devour every living thing; they clamor 
 about the windows of your hotels like hungry 
 wolves waiting to tear you to pieces as soon as you 
 get outside. They press their claims; they ply 
 their trades ; they thrust their wares upon you, each 
 one pressing the other and all squalling as they 
 recommend their goods and try to make a sale. 
 
 And beggars, beggars, beggars! Like vultures 
 and eagles that darken the sky; like reptiles that 
 crawl the earth at your feet, they waylay you, be- 
 siege you and follow you. Old and young men and 
 women, girls and children, halt and maimed, deaf 
 and dumb, cripple and blind (many just afflicted for 
 your benefit) ragged and dirty bundles of germs 
 and filth, they are waiting for you when you come, 
 stick to you while you are there and see you de- 
 part for home. From the time you cross the line 
 of Turkey's domains until you leave it, multitudes 
 of dirty hands are held out to you and a ceaseless 
 roar of voices is crying in your ears the shrieking, 
 moaning, jabbering call, "Backsheesh, backsheesh. " 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 187 
 
 There is nothing like it anywhere. With these 
 things still in your mind when asked what these peo- 
 ple live on we have not ceased to say "Tourists." 
 
 While the traders were extremely annoying to 
 me at first, they soon became a source of increasing 
 fascination and entertainment and day by day to 
 meet them in their bickerings and barter away some 
 pennies was one of the keenest pleasures J could find. 
 
 The first thing in trading in a foreign country 
 of course, is to have some knowledge of the money; 
 so it is best when you come to a strange country 
 and want to do some trading to go to your hotel 
 clerk, or to some leading store or to the office of 
 Thomas Cook & Co. where English is always spoken. 
 Be sure not to fall in the hands of the professional 
 money changers for they will fleece you and load 
 you down with worthless money. When you re- 
 ceive money from checks or gold, stay by until you 
 have a fair knowledge of the coins they have given 
 you. Fix in your mind as you look at these coins 
 the American coin that comes the nearest to them 
 in value. French and English gold is good any- 
 where, but your money will be more convenient and 
 much safer to be carried in travelers' checks fixed 
 before you leave home. For fifty cents on a hun- 
 dred dollars your bank will issue these checks pay- 
 able anywhere in the world. The cashier signs 
 them in your presence and you sign them in his. 
 When you want them cashed you countersign in th 
 presence of the one who gives you the money. If 
 you lose these checks or some one steals them they 
 are worthless to the one who gets them and thp 
 bank will pay you the money. 
 
188 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 If you have $5.00 converted into small change in 
 Turkey or Egypt (the moneys of these countries are 
 similar but entirely different) you better take 
 a basket or a satchel to get your change or see to 
 it that your pockets are large and your pants but- 
 tons well sewed on, for you will get enough change 
 to start a bank, with that gold piece. I changed a 
 four-dollar French gold-piece into Turkish coin in 
 Constantinople, bought two towels and three cakes 
 of soap, a big supply of post cards and stamps to 
 mail them, an assortment of fruit, attended a con- 
 cert and had my pockets full of money when I got 
 to the hotel. I gave a man a piaster (five cents) 
 and asked him to give me small change for it. He 
 gave me a handful of change containing five dis- 
 tinct coins of different denominations and kept a 
 commission for his trouble. The more we traded 
 the more money we had. Some of these coins look 
 like tobacco tags and are worth one-tenth of a cent. 
 
 In Egypt, Palestine, Syria and Turkey they have 
 their own money but English and French coins will 
 pass. A trick of the traders is to learn what money 
 you have and then quote prices in a money they 
 think you do not understand. You will soon learn 
 never to give a man any money and expect any 
 change back, for he will surely lose all his knowledge 
 and suddenly become so thickheaded he cannot un- 
 derstand what you mean and he will move on for 
 more victims. You will learn to have in your hands 
 the coins you think the article is worth and offer it 
 to him. If he wants more he will say so if you 
 want to give more you can give it. He will surely 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 189 
 
 mount his prices high several times above what he 
 thinks you will give and what he knows they are 
 worth, and expect you to jew him down. Herein 
 lies the joy of traffic in the East. To meet a strange 
 man with a strange tongue, sometimes hardly a word 
 which you can understand, and bicker with him 
 over prices, the most of it in signs and exclama- 
 tions, each one watching that he be not cheated 
 this is a pastime more exciting than golf. 
 
 In Cairo en route to our hotel one day a Souda- 
 nese bore down on me. He was black as the coat 
 of the Bishop of Canterbury. He hailed from the 
 Soudan and he looked as though his near ancestors 
 had more than once made lunch on a fat English- 
 man. Indeed he looked as though he might enjoy 
 for dinner some fresh tourist who did not chew to- 
 bacco and was roasted to his taste. His face was 
 horny and from his eyes the dim ages gone, seemed 
 to look straight down on me. I learned his busi- 
 ness was not to eat me but to sell me a cane. It 
 was indeed a beautiful cane, made of African ebony 
 highly polished and skillfully inlaid with one hun- 
 dred and, thirty pieces of ivory from the tusk of an 
 African elephant. Not wanting to cheat the man 
 I got the eye of the guide and asked what price I 
 ought to pay. He informed me two shillings (fifty 
 cents) would buy plenty of them. Making signs 
 to him I learned he wanted twelve shillings (three 
 dollors). Besides the sentimental value as a sou- 
 venir it would be worth much more than that here, 
 but if two shillings was a fair price I had it in mind 
 to buy it for that, so I held up two fingers. He 
 
190 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 made signs at me and sputtered as though some of 
 his inside draw strings had broken loose, and lift- 
 ing his head in disgust went down the street leav- 
 ng me to wonder just what the "cuss" words were 
 he had employed against me. 
 
 Presently he came back and overtook me as 
 I walked on pretending not to notice him. He 
 caught me by the arm and put his black horny 
 face so close to mine I thought he intended to bite 
 a piece out of my ear to see what kind of a lunch I 
 would make. He hissed something in my ear that 
 went all through my blood like a hypodermic in- 
 jection of undiluted contemptuousness, and held up 
 ten fingers. I don't know what the awful thing was 
 that he squirted into my ear, but by the ten fingers I 
 knew I had him on the retreat and he had fallen back 
 two shillings. With my American blood for venture 
 rising, I turned on him, hissed at him like a goose 
 and again held up two fingers. He again sputtered, 
 gathered up his wares and throwing his head high in 
 the air hurried off as though in pure contempt he 
 would go to the Soudan before he halted. 
 
 For a moment I feared my cane was gone, but it 
 was for only a moment. After suddenly stopping and 
 gazing at the ground as if it had done something 
 awful to him he snapped his fingers and muttered 
 savage ejaculations. He quickly turned and over- 
 took me as I walked leisurely along. This time he 
 hissed louder and faster and held my arm tighter. 
 Whether he was trying to intimidate me or not I do 
 not know. The last two fingers on his left hand 
 were down. I had brought him down to eight shill- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 191 
 
 ings. My courage rose and in the excitement of the 
 game I shook my head, made many sounds and held 
 high two fingers. He stamped his foot, rumbled deep 
 down in his internals like the foreboding of a vol- 
 cano and showing his utter disgust in every way he 
 could, he went off as if by all counts I would see him 
 no more in the flesh. My friends who had been 
 looking on with keen interest and much amusement 
 said he was certainly gone this time. Making his 
 gyrations still more emphatic he soon returned with 
 the extreme air of finality which seemed to say that 
 though the heavens fell, the sea dried up, and Egypt 
 again be visitd by all of Pharaoh's plagues he would 
 see me dead and eaten by the Sultan's dogs before he 
 would recede another inch, and seeing the hotel 
 was near he dropped all but four fingers. I 
 also assumed a pose of finality, shook my head and 
 began to beckon to other traders. He suddenly 
 changed. The clouds left his face, he smiled until 
 his teeth shone, handed me the cane, and taking his 
 fifty cents went his way. As I write I see sitting 
 in the corner yonder that cane. I am keeping it as 
 a memento of my long-drawn-out trade with the 
 black oriental, neither of us speaking a word the 
 other could understand. > 
 
 So pleased were several members of the party 
 with my cane that they desired one like it. My good 
 Baptist friend, Dr. W. R. Cullom of Wake Forest 
 College greatly desired one, but being unable to 
 suddenly come from the dignity of the class room 
 to such feats of street traffic, he offered me a very 
 large commission if I would buy him one, and that 
 
192 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 night on one of Cairo's main streets I went the 
 ground all over with another vender of canes and 
 greatly pleased the heart of my good brother, so 
 pleasant and brotherly in all our travels, by calling 
 him from bed to deliver to him the trophy of that 
 trade. His cane, however, cost him fifty-five cents 
 and in that extra nickel there lies another tale. 
 Not that I was guilty of charging it for commis- 
 sion. That nickel taught me one of the most inter- 
 esting lessons of Eastern trading. As I was going 
 through the necessary preliminaries to the purchase 
 of Dr. Cullom's cane a tall, sharp-eyed Egyptian 
 came up and stepping at once between us he took 
 the cane in his hand and asked me what I would 
 give for it. I might have asked him what he meant 
 by such rude interruption, but I did not. Rather, 
 I stood there to learn what it meant. I told him I 
 would pay two shillings and no more. I did not 
 care to cheat the man nor persuade him to sell if 
 he did not care to, but that was all I would give. 
 He then talked to the man in his own tongue. The 
 man protested and shook his head vigorously. I 
 was informed he wanted more. To this I shook 
 my head and turned to go. He handed me the cane 
 and taking the money from me thrust it into the 
 man's hand and pushing him said "Yallah impshi," 
 which was interpreted by our guide to mean some- 
 thing not quite as elegant as "Get on out of the way 
 you black rascal." 
 
 The man then came to me and informed me what 
 his actions meant. He was what we would call a 
 "go-between". This third party is really necessary 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 193 
 
 to make any trade legally binding. When there is 
 a difference of agreement between traders the third 
 party who is self-appointed, comes in to consum- 
 mate the bargain. Many times later on we saw 
 this illustrated. If you buy something and it does 
 not prove equal to the seller's claim you have no 
 redress unless the third party was in the trade. 
 Whatever he says settles it. It somewhat compli- 
 cates matters, however, when you learn that this 
 "go-between" dignitary will decide with the party 
 who pays him the biggest tip. Of course he ex- 
 pects a fee for his services usually from both the 
 seller and the buyer. So I paid my man five cents. 
 It is said to be a very lucrative business. I won- 
 dered how that system would work in this country. 
 How would you like every time you tried to make 
 a trade to have some man "butt in" and conclude 
 it, then charge you a fee and tell you to "go to 
 Guinea"? 
 
 We bought many articles of native products for 
 trifling sums beautiful beads, lace fancy work, 
 mats, rugs, brass and other things for almost 
 nothing. Beautiful ostrich plumes in Cairo, sold 
 for about one-tenth their value here. We saw many 
 tourists, however, pay many times that because 
 they took them at their first price. A lady in our 
 party paid a dollar and a half each for two Turkey 
 fezs to take home to her brothers, while a number 
 of us who went together to the bazaars got ours for 
 a quarter. And in the buying of those little red 
 caps lies another tale. We thought a fez was a fez 
 and there was no difference in them. So we got 
 
194 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 them and adorning our heads like some pasha we 
 went through the hotel lobby with the other gentle- 
 men on our way to supper. We didn't think any- 
 thing was the matter with our harness. As we 
 gazed in the mirror we thought we were handsome 
 and we were wondering why those red caps were 
 not introduced in our country. But in the lobby 
 we met murmurs and unkind looks. It was ex- 
 plained when we learned there were two kinds of 
 f ezs and while they were very much alike they were 
 very much unlike. One was the customary head- 
 gear of the people. The other was not quite so 
 high, darker in color and had a shorter tassel. It 
 was the badge of the insurrectionists and meant, 
 "Down with the Sultan." Some of us were wear- 
 ing it. While we would not have spent much time 
 mourning if the old fellow should have gone down, 
 we had not come for the purpose of putting him 
 down, and we concluded if this cap branded us as 
 his enemy the other might class us as his 
 friends, and we put the little red skull caps away for 
 young Americans who would not be bothered over 
 such scruples and we crowned our pates with Ameri- 
 can toggery. 
 
 Numbers of times we were surrounded and our 
 way was blocked by the traders and beggars who 
 crowded us. Several times some of us used a bor- 
 rowed plan that helped some. As they crowded us, 
 chattering away in words (if they could be called 
 words) we could not understand and gesticulating 
 with all their might, we looked them straight in the 
 face, gesturing violently and speaking loudly and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 195 
 
 with great emphasis recited to them "Mary had a 
 little lamb," "The boy stood on a burning deck/' 
 "Tom, Tom, the piper's son," and such other pro- 
 ductions from, childhood as we could recall and 
 thought they would appreciate. It was always suc- 
 cessful. They would look at us in a very peculiar 
 way and move on. Whether they thought us crazy 
 or whether they thought the proposition we sub- 
 mitted to them outweighed the one they proposed 
 to us I was never able to learn. At other times we 
 got ahead of those who came to us with outstretched 
 hands begging for "backsheesh" by meeting them 
 with open hands, crying loudly, "Backsheesh." 
 Likewise we would meet traders and try to sell 
 them things we had. These tricks usually non- 
 pulsed them, but not always. 
 
 These Eastern traders are ahead of those of our 
 own land in zeal and scheme and plan. They don't 
 wait for you to come to their stores they bring 
 their stores to you. To the boats, hotels, streets, 
 public places, everywhere they come with their goods. 
 You have to watch them, but if you keep your eyes 
 open you can make a dollar go further than you ever 
 saw it go before and bring home things that make a 
 lady happy for many moons to come. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN SUNNY ITALY. 
 
 From Egypt we turned our faces across the seas 
 to Italy, having in us a desire to walk upon its sun- 
 lit slopes as well as answer to the call that arose 
 within, saying, "I must see Rome." The weather 
 was good but some of our party insisted on getting 
 sick, due perhaps to their surroundings and a small 
 boat more than to the roughness of the seas; and 
 then there was a little too much mutton grease or 
 more properly goat grease in the cooking for some 
 of our people. A very large per cent of the meat 
 of these countries is mutton. It seemed to me 
 sometimes about ninety-nine and a half per cent., 
 and nearly all the mutton is goat. Of course, in a 
 party of four dozen people it is quite natural to find 
 a few unreasonable and fastidious people who are 
 hard to please and insist on having some kind of 
 meat besides mutton. Brother Williams, my fellow 
 traveler and room mate, belonged to this class. He 
 vigorously objected to having all his food cooked in 
 goat greese. One day at dinner, as we took our 
 seats at the table, he smiled at the stack of dishes 
 before us. It looked from the big outfit in front 
 of each one that we might expect something fine. 
 
 "We'll certainly get something besides mutton in 
 all these courses" said Brother Williams. The first 
 course came. It was mutton and potatoes. The 
 dishes were removed and the second course came. 
 It was mutton and peas. The dishes were' cleared 
 away and the third course was brought, it was mut- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 197 
 
 ton and squashes. The dishes were again removed 
 and the fourth course came, it was mutton and ma- 
 caroni. The next course was fruit, then coffee and 
 cheese. Brother Williams came in on the last. A 
 large per cent of the milk and butter in these coun- 
 tries is also the products of goats. Some of our ladies 
 often said that when the rest of the fare did not suit 
 them they could fall back on the milk and butter, for 
 everywhere we went these two articles were good. 
 This is true, for goat's milk and butter is richer and 
 better than that that comes from cows, if you will 
 banish your prejudice. Those who knew did not tell 
 the ladies the kind of milk and butter it was and 
 they came back from their trip commending these 
 articles of diet. 
 
 The dairy business of Italy and these other coun- 
 tries is interesting and odd to Americans. In the 
 early morning hours your attention is attracted by 
 a bell ringing, which sounds like an oldtime bell 
 on a home-coming cow. It is on the neck of the 
 leader of a fiock of milk gQats. They are driven 
 to the front door or shop of the customer who 
 brings out a pitcher, and the dairyman proceeds 
 then and there to milk as much as is needed while 
 the goats proceed to clean up the yard of all trash 
 and other things which come in the realm of a 
 goat's appetite. When a customer lives upstairs, 
 the traveling dairy mounts the stairway with ease 
 and grace, cleaning up rubbish and serving milk to 
 all who call for it. There are several advantages 
 in this method of dairying: you are always sure 
 to get fresh milk and the milkman has no chance 
 to add water to it, and besides this, you get your 
 
198 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 garbage, trash, papers, etc., consumed free. This 
 business so impressed me that when the war started 
 and it seemed we could not get home for months to 
 come I made a proposition to Williams to put the 
 few dollars we had left into the purchase of a few 
 goats. I thought between us we could carry on a 
 small dairy business and make an honest living 
 until we could get home. It must be very profitable 
 to have a dairy that will convert all the trash of a 
 town into milk and butter. The town ought to pay 
 for the cleaning up of the premises and the feed for 
 the milk producers would cost nothing. 
 
 The natural charm and beauty of Naples and the 
 surrounding country from this elevation cannot be 
 described by tongue or pen. Looking down upon the 
 city that clusters about the mountain like a neck- 
 lace of pearls on the throat of a queen, with the 
 mellow light of the Italian skies shining down upon 
 it all, makes the heart throb faster but thickens the 
 tongue so that it can frame no words and stiffens 
 the fingers so they can write no lines to tell what 
 the soul is seeing and feeling. And at night when 
 the sun went on beyond those historic hills and the 
 moon came up across the bay to let down upon the 
 waters and the hills her silvery mantle of liquid 
 light, and the stars quiet and full of peace, looked 
 down from a cloudless sky upon the teeming life 
 and flickering lights of the city, while old Vesuvius 
 from her strange infernal-like funnel sent up her 
 flash of fire against the sky as though at any hour 
 she meant to cover the fairest scene of earth with 
 burning death, I put up my pencil and note-book, 
 unable to write, and looked and looked and looked for 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 199 
 
 "My soul today 
 Was far away 
 Sailing the blue Vesuvian Bay; 
 With watchful eyes 
 My spirit flies 
 Under the walls of Paradise." 
 
 Below me lay a great city full of misery, shame 
 and poverty, for with all its glory nowhere on the 
 earth is there more wretchedness than in Naples, 
 but I saw none of these things. The dirty alleys, 
 ragged beggars, half starved souls, hovels of mis- 
 ery and dens of shame came not to my view, for 
 a glorious light seemed to transform all the de- 
 fects of earth and humanity into a picture of un- 
 earthly beauty. To and fro went boats with the 
 commerce of the world. Near by arose the rocks 
 of Amalfi, Sorenta and Capri, and the Islands of 
 Ishia besides many other points full of charm to 
 those who take interest in the history of their fel- 
 low men. 
 
 Not only is this section full of interest because 
 of its natural beauty but hardly a spot on the globe 
 is richer in the history it has written. In the high- 
 est days of Roman grandeur and greatness, this, 
 next to Rome, was the spot they loved the most, 
 and here they lavished all the wealth they had, to 
 make, with nature's help, a land to equal heaven. 
 Down from Rome along the Apian way came a 
 mighty thoroughfare, one of those well built Roman 
 roads whose work still stands enough to show how 
 great it was. Along this highway by the hills of 
 Campagnia teemed the stream of Rome's richest 
 and greatest life, coming and going to and from 
 
200 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the Eternal City and Naples, the City of the Sea. 
 Chariots rich and gaudy, drawn by the finest horses 
 with lace and gold, bearing Caesar's retinue, litters 
 of luxury in which reclined Rome's fair and well 
 perfumed ladies carried by their slaves; caravans 
 on missions of merchandise; battalions of soldiers 
 with the Imperial uniform and the Roman eagle, 
 went in ceaseless stream along this road. It must 
 have been a wonderful sight to those who looked 
 upon it. 
 
 In and about Naples many mighty Romans of 
 those olden days when Rome ruled the world came 
 here where they had mansions and villas. This was 
 the home of Horace and Hadrian, and Cicero and 
 Virgil. This great old Latin poet loved these hills 
 with all the love of a poet's great soul, and on one 
 of these hills today his tomb is found where, in com- 
 pliance with his dying wish, his body was brought 
 to rest on this wave-washed shore, where so often 
 the old poet had dreamed the dreams he wove into 
 his poems. On his tomb is this verse, written by 
 himself : 
 
 "In lovely Mantua was my child-hood's home, 
 'Till my ambition lured me forth to Rome; 
 Flocks, fields and heroes have inspired my breast, 
 And now on Naple's sunny slopes I rest." 
 
 Here Brutus stabbed to death the mighty Caesar, 
 lord of the whole worM. Across the bay yonder at 
 Capri-Tiberius, Emperor of Rome, came when 
 broken with age and disease, brought on by sin and 
 shame, to spend his closing years burying his soul 
 still deeper in debauchery and vileness than he had 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 201 
 
 done in his youth. Here he fortified himself against 
 all his enemies, human and superhuman, believing 
 he was powerful enough to fight them all. He built 
 twelve villas and supplied them with all the luxury 
 wealth could lavish and a sin-cursed soul could 
 concieve. He spent a month in each villa, keeping 
 his sinful soul intoxicated with sin and shame that 
 he might feed his fiendish desires and keep 
 away the call of conscience and the shadow of 
 eternity that was fast coming across his bloody path. 
 
 On the high hill overlooking the rocks and the 
 waters, they show you now a point called the 
 "Leap of Tiberius." After putting his victims and 
 prisoners and all whose conduct did not suit him 
 through the most awful tortures his soul could 
 conceive, and tiring of their agony and groans he 
 had his soldiers plunge them from the cliff upon the 
 rocks below, where more soldiers waited to continue 
 their tortures if they were not dead before their 
 mangled bodies went to the fish. Here, this sinful 
 old Roman whose life for cruelty and debauchery 
 almost equalled that of Nero was living his closing 
 years when the Romans and Jews in Jerusalem 
 crucified Jesus. When the news came to him from 
 Rome that Jesus had suffered at their hands, doubt- 
 less, he gloried at the picture and wished he had 
 been there to lend a helping hand. 
 
 The shame and sin of Roman life is unspeakable 
 and cannot be told. Nowhere save in Rome was 
 more of it seen than along the shores of Naples. 
 It does seem strange that scenes so peaceful look- 
 ing now and so richly blest with nature's hand 
 should be so cursed with the sin of man! Yet it is 
 
202 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ever so. Where is the sun-lit slope, breeze-swept 
 hill, or wave-washed shore made beautiful by 
 nature that has not been stained with blood and 
 cursed by the sin of man? The flowers have been 
 stained, the streams crimsoned, the quiet night made 
 hideous with shrieks and curses; and the balmy 
 days polluted with human crimes, and it is 
 man who does it. His sinful feet have stopped no- 
 where. His bloody hands have passed over no ob- 
 ject. His fiendish appetite has preyed on everything. 
 Rome, Athens, Jerusalem, the Temple, the Altar, 
 Calvary, every thing and every place cries out to 
 heaven how the sin-cursed soul of humanity's vile 
 vandals have carried their slimy reeking stream of 
 filthy sin over every thing and every body. 
 
 Not only has the sin of the race marred the fair 
 picture of Sunny Italy but it seems that a super- 
 human power has conspired to punish the race for 
 so sinning on its fair shores by constantly tearing 
 down its works and making the people live with 
 the constant fear that at some sudden moment, 
 volcanoes, earthquakes, pestilence, or plague, the 
 lives and homes of the people may be ground into 
 the dust. Time after time through the centuries, 
 these fair hills have shaken in the throes of mighty 
 earthquakes that left ruin and desolation in the 
 wake of its trembling waves. Many times cities 
 and country districts have been utterly destroyed. 
 A few days after our departure, these hills shook 
 until thousands were dead and still more were left 
 homeless. 
 
 In 1883 a mighty earthquake shook the beauti- 
 ful Island of Ischia, out in the Bay of Naples, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 203 
 
 as the people listened to the singing of the sirens. 
 They were on the flood-tide of their social life, after 
 supper, when without warning the island reeled 
 like it had grown drunk on the wine they were 
 drinking and when quiet from its spree, desolation 
 and ruin came upon the stage instead of the gay 
 festivities of the moment before. The organist was 
 found dead at the instrument and the dancers in 
 their last embrace upon the ball-room floor. As 
 strange as it may seem the music they were mak- 
 ing for the gay to dance by was "The Funeral 
 March." How strange is the irony of fate that 
 should thus turn the tables on those who, in bur- 
 lesque, were dancing to "The Funeral March."! 
 And yet fickle and sinful man has ever been so. He 
 constantly passes from the stage of earth into the 
 shodows of eternity, dancing to "The Funeral 
 March." 
 
 When King Humbert, father of the present king 
 of Italy, heard of the great disaster, he came in per- 
 son to the scene to direct the work of relief and 
 rescue as was his custom and as is the custom of 
 many European sovereigns in times of public calam- 
 ity. The present king came down to the ruined 
 cities last summer to help the people with his deeds 
 and words. When the old king reached the stricken 
 island and looked upon the scene before him he 
 cried, "My God, I never dreamed of such misery." 
 The horrors of a buried city must be unspeakable. 
 
 'The people live in constant dread of a return of 
 such calamities and yet they rebuild again upon 
 the ruins of the past and go on sinning and living 
 
204 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 as the victims of the past had done. It was believed 
 by the ancients that these hills rested upon some 
 huge monster who grew tired of the burden he 
 carried and shaking himself to be rid of his load, 
 he caused the destructive earthquakes to come. 
 
 The Plague also has often preyed with mighty 
 havoc upon Southern Italy. In 1884 death and de- 
 struction followed in the wake of this dread dis- 
 ease and thousands were dead. King Humbert at 
 once made ready for the stricken country against 
 the wishes of his friends and physician. He can- 
 celled important engagements of state and bade his 
 friends good-bye, as it was not at all improbable 
 they would never see him again. He worked faith- 
 fully until the plague was over. The ancient poets 
 had a saying, "See Naples and die." They perhaps 
 meant that the beauties and attraction of the city 
 were so great that you need not hope on earth to 
 excell them, and when you had seen it you had no 
 more on earth to see, and yet there is irony in the 
 saying. When you think of the way Naples has 
 been preyed upon by earthquake, cholera and vol- 
 cano, you can but feel that if you are not in a hurry 
 about seeing it you may die. 
 
 It is a strange kind of human nature that men 
 will build their homes and spend their lives on the 
 very edge of ruin. The green slopes of Vesuvius 
 were covered with homes and vineyards when the 
 first upheaval came and it was covered again as 
 soon as the wreck could be cleared away. People 
 live and walk today upon its edge, climbing over 
 the fields of lava it cast up. These hills that have 
 so often been shaken and devastated by pestilence 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 205 
 
 are soon refilled with folks, and yet why wonder 
 at the folly of silly men in so doing? Has not the 
 race always been so? Do we not do the same? 
 There is a feeling of security in the peaceful prom- 
 ise of Nature. We hide from a storm behind a hill, 
 when the storm can tear up the hill. We ride out 
 on the ocean when it has swallowed its thousands. 
 We trust Nature like a child trusts a mother. It 
 is hard to believe the scenes we love can treat us 
 ill. And if, per chance, Mother Nature does send 
 danger down upon her child, we believe it will not 
 come again, surely not this time and not on us. So 
 Italy's children build again tomorrow on hills that 
 shook with death on yesterday, and plant their 
 Vineyards and build their homes upon the side of 
 Vesuvius, that mountain of murmuring fire with 
 the confidence you have when you sleep above your 
 furnace that warms you in the winter time. And 
 then to be familiar with a thing means not to be 
 afraid of it. I once had a friend who was so scared 
 of a coffin that it gave him cold chills to see one; 
 later on he worked in a coffin factory, handling 
 them all day long. Soon he was eating on them at 
 noon and taking an after dinner nap upon them 
 every day. Italy has become so well acquainted with 
 her volcanic hills that she sees no danger in them. 
 And then, in the enchanted dream that leads men 
 on, they forget the rocks, listening to the song of 
 the sirens and think not of the fate that awaits 
 them in their effort to grasp the fruit before them. 
 So men camp on the brink of ruin and gamble even 
 with death, and pitch their tents where angels dare 
 not tread, in their efforts to taste the sweets of sin. 
 
206 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD ^ . 
 
 As Italians sleep above the roaring of Vesuvian 
 flames, heedless of danger, our sons sleep on the 
 flames of eternal ruin, thinking not of judgment. 
 As long as men fight, cheat, sin and trifle away their 
 years and sleep on the edge of eternity, unprepared 
 to meet their God, there is nothing strange in Italy's 
 children planting grapes near the crest of burning 
 Vesuvius. 
 
 We visited all the points of interest in and about 
 Naples; the museum, shops and public buildings. 
 Volumes could be written on these but I must pass 
 by these, stop briefly at Pompeii and hurry on to 
 Rome. Pompeii stands out alone in the world with 
 a history all its own. There is no city the earth has 
 ever built with a story at all like it. Seventy-nine 
 years after Jesus was born in Bethlehem, this city 
 of thirty thousand souls, in the midst of its gay 
 life, was buried without warning under a mass of 
 ashes and red hot melted rock, hotter than any fire 
 of earth could make them. This destruction came 
 from a peaceful old mountain near by, up whose 
 slopes they and their children had often gone to 
 look upon the hills around, and far away stretches 
 of the silvery sea beyond the Bay of Naples. Upon 
 the mountain's very top, they had often walked and 
 rested, seeing no sign of danger because then the 
 mountains had no sign of internal disturbance. After 
 the complete burial of the city with many thousands 
 of its people, who, overtaken with the flood of fire 
 and burning lava, and lost in the clouds of smoke 
 and darkness, could not find their way to the sea, 
 they remained in this tomb while eighteen hundred 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 207 
 
 years rolled over them. Then science reached forth 
 its hand and opened the tomb and let the world 
 look upon, not a buried person but a buried city, 
 dead and resurrected not to a better life but to a 
 stately death. 
 
 Your feelings in Pompeii are unlike those you 
 have anywhere else in the world's works or its 
 ruins. In the tombs of Egypt or amid the dust and 
 white stones of other ancient lands, your feeling is 
 like that, that touches the wondrous life of a day 
 long gone but not forgotten, but when you walk 
 the streets of Pompeii, this buried and destroyed 
 city recently lifted up to the light of the sun, you 
 have a feeling of sympathy and human interest as 
 though you were looking upon the deeds of yester- 
 day. Here are the streets with grooves where the 
 carriage wheels ran; the stepping-stones from one 
 side-walk to another; the public bakery where 
 half done bread was found; further on is the mar- 
 ket-place and the Forum with its court of jus- 
 tice; then the temples to the Roman gods, nine of 
 them ; then two theatres with seats for five thousand 
 each, and a great amphitheatre with seats for 
 twenty thousand. Posted on the walls are signs 
 advertising big features at the theatre and the 
 ampitheatre for the night, and history tells us the 
 gay people were there at their games when the cloud 
 began to rain its fire. One of these games scheduled 
 was a "Roman Hunt." The stage was changed into 
 a forest where the people set at large three lions, 
 one elephant, six tigers, a crocodile and a boa-con- 
 strictor. Gladiators were then put into the arena 
 
208 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 and given weapons with which to hunt down the 
 furious beasts while the people in the crowded the- 
 atre looked on; the scene was doubtless bloody 
 enough to suit their depraved tastes. The crushing 
 of bones, tearing of flesh, flowing of blood, mingled 
 with the groans of the dying men and furious 
 screams and snarls of the hungry beasts who fought 
 over the human flesh and tore it to pieces like dogs 
 would a hare, must have furnished a comedy (?) of 
 entertainment that caused the Pompeian ladies and 
 gentlemen to linger over the tea cups of the morrow 
 as with uplifted jeweled hands and smiling faces 
 they talked of the things they had seen. 
 
 On this fateful night there was something in the 
 air that made the animals strange and restless. In- 
 stead of showing their teeth and leaping on the 
 hunters, they ran nervously up and down the side 
 of the cage, lashing their flanks with their tails and 
 sending forth anxious growls as they sought an exit 
 that they might flee for safety to the hills, for in- 
 stinct was telling them of a coming doom the stupid 
 people could not see. To them the world was the 
 same and life as sweet and sinful as ever. Pres- 
 ently, a distant rumble was heard. It increased with 
 a roar of thunder that shook the hills and made the 
 rocks tremble. The theatre shook, the walls fell and 
 behind them the old mountain was burning. High 
 into the air rolled a column of smoke and flame and 
 then upon the world around, the clouds rained fire. 
 Several feetof burning ashes followed by rivers of 
 red hot melted rock ran down upon the city. Many 
 escaped and many did not. The city was buried and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 209 
 
 preserved like we can fruit. Eighteen hundred years 
 it was air tight. When excavations were under- 
 taken many objects were found just as they were 
 buried, others that had disapeared, leaving a perfect 
 shape where the now hardened lava had formed 
 about them as it turned them into dust, were saved 
 by the excavators by opening a hole and pouring in 
 plaster. When it was hardened it produced the exact 
 form. The lava was then cleared away and the 
 object saved. 
 
 Many wonderful objects are seen in the museum. 
 They speak with pathos of a people destroyed in sin- 
 ful pleasure. One is an old man decrepit and bent. 
 About his body is a heavy loaded money-belt; per- 
 haps he turned back to save his treasure and lost 
 his life. A woman likewise was found trying to 
 carry her jewels away with her. A dog was found 
 in the street twisted in contortion, with his mouth 
 open, where he perished by his master rather than 
 leave him and flee for safety. A dove is seen upon 
 her nest protecting even in the face of such a storm, 
 the life beneath her breast. Tables set with food, 
 families in the home circle, babies upon their moth- 
 er's breasts add to the pathetic scenes. We went 
 into the prison where three poor victims were found 
 chained to the wall. The prison key was found near 
 them on the floor where the keeper in his flight had 
 left it. The key that unlocked the door that led 
 them to safety was not quite in their reach. Tradi- 
 tion has it that these men were condemned to the 
 arena later in the evening of the fatal day. Pompeii 
 was indeed a wicked city and must have rivalled 
 
210 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Sodom for unspeakable evidence of its debauched life 
 and revolting sin is seen in a section of the museum. 
 You are almost forced to believe God destroyed this 
 city as he did the city of the Plains long ago. 
 
 Pompeii must have been one of the most beauti- 
 ful cities of the world, for it has much evidence of 
 that after being in the grave eighteen centuries. In 
 the background was the mountain and at its front 
 door the wonderful bay with its shores dotted with 
 so many points of interest. The city was on an ele- 
 vation that enabled the people to see all the land 
 around. Many of the homes speak of luxury and 
 grace. The streets are beautiful, the buildings great. 
 As it stood centuries ago adorned with all the glitter 
 of Roman grandeur it must have been indeed a 
 grand city. 
 
 One of the greatest novels ever written is "The 
 Last Days of Pompeii" by Bulwer Lytton. He spent 
 a long time in Pompeii studying the history, life and 
 setting of the place that he might give a full ac- 
 count of the city and its people in their latter days 
 and weave through it all his charming story. How 
 well he has done the work the world knows. His 
 descriptions of its life and especially the awful de- 
 struction, is the best to be found anywhere, and is 
 hardly excelled in the literature of the world. As 
 we walked through the streets of the city and were 
 shown the house of Glaucus, we could almost see the 
 living forms of Arbaces, the Egyptian ; Glaucus, the 
 Greek, lone the fair Neapolitan and Nydia the blind 
 girl who in the awful hour of death and darkness, 
 needing no light to guide her feet over the streets 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 211 
 
 she had learnd so well in her dark days, found her 
 lover and guided him safely to the sea. 
 
 From Naples we took the train for Rome, one 
 hundred and fifty miles back further in the hills. 
 Every foot of this ride was over historic ground; 
 the hills and fields seemed rich and full of life and 
 everywhere, Italy seemed to be putting on her best 
 clothes. The crops seemed to be good and the fields 
 were dotted with white cattle with long horns, and 
 the hills were covered with vineyards. As the sun 
 was setting we came in sight of the Eternal City 
 sitting on her seven hills, where for so long she ruled 
 the world. The first view we had of Rome was of 
 the ruins of the Claudian Aqueduct of other days. 
 Then there burst upon us the vision of modern Rome 
 nestling on the bank of the Tiber with the sinking 
 sun falling in blazing splendor upon the dome of St. 
 Peters. 
 
 In the short space before me it will be impossible 
 to even touch upon the things of supreme interest 
 in this city so full of charm for the human race. 
 Volumes could be and have been written on the life 
 and history of this old city. All these books of the 
 masters would fill a library and they have not told 
 it all. It seems folly for me who am no master to 
 try. I shall pass by history, art, and Rome's great 
 relics and mention only a few points of interest and 
 the things of peculiar interest to me . 
 
 The first morning after our arrival in Rome we 
 got in carriages and started sight-seeing. Our course 
 soon brought us to the Tiber. We halted beside the 
 yellow slow-moving stream and meditated. Great 
 
212 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 old river, for beyond the legend days of Romulus 
 and Remus when there was no Rome you were going 
 on your journey as you are to-day ! Of all the rivers 
 that have found their way through the hills to the 
 sea, none can tell the tales you can! What secrets 
 you have buried in your bosom ! What treasures you 
 could bring to light if you would! your banks have 
 lured the wooing lover, and your stream has run 
 red with blood! No stream has ever known such 
 horrors, heard such bitter cries or borne away so 
 many victims. When the secrets of the earth must 
 be given up what stories you will tell! 
 
 We crossed the Bridge of San Angelo at the end of 
 which stands the massive circular tombs of Emperor 
 Hadrian, one thousand feet in circumference. We 
 rode over the seven hills of the city. The most noted 
 of these seven hills upon which Rome stands are the 
 Pincian, Palatine and Capitoline. The Pincian hill is 
 now as in olden times the haunt of high society; 
 it is a beautiful park, restful and peaceful, giving 
 little indication of the bloody horrors that it, like 
 the other hills of Rome knew in the olden days. It 
 was on this hill, while the sister of Napoleon rode 
 in her chariot, one of her rejected lovers stabbed 
 himself so near her, the blood spurted on her 
 chariot. Every inch of land here has known dark 
 crimes and vileness. It is said Nero's ghost wand- 
 ers here now because its history suits so well his 
 taste. But the soul of that vile Roman finds no such 
 a pleasant place to travel. 
 
 The Palatine Hill was the part of the city where 
 the aristocrats and royal families lived. From the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 213 
 
 buried ruins here, recent excavations have brought 
 great wonders to light and more are yet to follow. 
 The Capitoline Hill was the portion of the city de- 
 voted to the capital. On it now stands the great 
 museum. Among the great wonders of this build- 
 ing the thing that struck me most was a selection 
 of marble busts made from life of the Rulers of 
 Rome. It was a matter of much interest that thir- 
 ty-one of these rulers were horribly murdered and 
 two committed suicide. This is another commen- 
 tary on the vile life of that day. One of the most 
 striking faces in this lot, to me, was that of old 
 Nero with his thick bull-like neck and face. Truly 
 licentious and devilish, he haunted me for days. Of 
 all the men who have made history, none was more 
 depraved than he. He consireded himself divine 
 when he was devilish. In the heighth of his power 
 he used to drive out of Rome along the Apian way 
 with one thousand wagons carrying his baggage 
 while five hundred she asses followed, to supply 
 milk in which Mrs. Nero bathed to preserve her 
 youth and charm. No scene of blood and shame 
 was bad enough to suit this old monster. In hi3 
 restlessness for excitement he conceived the idea 
 in his depraved and drunken brain to burn Rome 
 and look upon the drama or comedy of a burning 
 city. History tells us he fiddled and sang his silly 
 songs as he watched the horrors of the burning 
 city. He then blamed the Christians for the fire and 
 started the bloodiest persecutions the world has ever 
 known. But his day came, and to save himself from 
 a worse fate at the hands of his enemies he fell upon 
 
214 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 his dagger. His soul to-day wanders in a place not 
 so fair as the Pincian Hill. 
 
 Our path soon led us to the Protestant cemetery 
 which is a point of peculiar interest to all Protest- 
 ants. As its name would indicate it is the resting 
 place of many some of them heroic souls who 
 found their sleep by facing their foes. In this 
 beautiful spot upon which nature has turned on the 
 light if peace rests the dust of those two great 
 poetic souls and bosom friends, Keats and Shelley. 
 In other years their souls had struck mine through 
 the songs they had sung and I lingered by these 
 graves with reverent heart to read the words upon 
 their tombs. I copied in my notebook the following 
 from the head-stone on the grave of Keats: "This 
 grave contains all that was mortal of a young Eng- 
 lish poet, who, on his death-bed, in the bitterness 
 of his heart at the malicious power of his enemies, 
 desired these words to be engraven on his tomb, 
 'Here lies one whose name was writ in water.' " 
 
 Below, this his friend Shelly had written the fol- 
 lowing beautiful tribute : 
 "Keats if thy cherished name be writ in water, 
 
 Each drop has fallen from some mourner's cheek 
 
 A sacred tribute such as seek 
 Tho oft in vain for dazzling deeds do slaughter; 
 
 Sleep on not honored less for epitaph so meek." 
 
 I was amazed at the scale upon which the ancient 
 Romans built. Their works of art it seems would 
 take all the genius of an age to create and it was 
 said of the Rome of old that there were as many 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 215 
 
 marble statues, in the city as there were inhabitants. 
 These are masterpieces and their greatness and pro- 
 fusion is so far beyond me I shall not try to write 
 of them. The public buildings, streets and roads 
 were built as if they were to witness the end of the 
 world. With all the faults of the old Romans they 
 did not do things in a half-way slip-shod manner. 
 History tells us of one architect who, so poorly built 
 a theatre that it fell, killing several thousand peo- 
 ple. All the future history of the builder is summed 
 up in one short chapter, "He was banished." If we 
 had such a custom, doubtless, we would build upon 
 a more lasting foundation ! 
 
 The water supply of Rome is wonderful. The 
 city is full of fountains, public and private baths. 
 Its great water system is supplied by streams 
 brought down from the mountains. In ancient days 
 the water was brought through massive over head 
 aqueducts which ran into the city like great rail- 
 way trunk lines. In the old days of Rome it is said 
 the water system was greater than it is now. The 
 per capita supply of water was 110 gallons, the 
 greatest any city ever had. In this day of sani- 
 tation and cleanliness, London has only thirty gal- 
 lons per person and Paris seventy. The old Ro- 
 mans were badly stained in their morals but they 
 believed in keeping their bodies clean. 
 
 When my feet stood in the Forum in Rome my 
 feelings were such that they could not be recorded. 
 In all the earth there is no place like this. It 
 was the seat of Rome's life and government. Here 
 they made history while you wait. Here still stands 
 
216 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the "Golden Mile Post," marking the centre of the 
 world. From the farthest confines of the then 
 known world, all roads ran to the "Golden Mile 
 Post." To the forum and from it, all distances 
 were measured. Here the world was ruled, kings 
 were made and unmade, kingdoms set up and put 
 down. Here the mighty brains of the Roman Em- 
 pire in its great days, wrought their deeds and 
 plans into a mighty structure, whose influence will 
 never leave the earth. Here the flaming tongues 
 of Rome's orators swayed the people. Here Cicero 
 made the speech that cost him his life, his enemies 
 cutting off his head and carrying it to the Rostrum 
 where so often he had sent forth his mighty and 
 lasting orations, which for ages to come were to be 
 the models of eloquence and rhetoric for armies of 
 students to study in their schools. Holding up the 
 bloody head they spat in his face and pulling out 
 his tongue, its eloquence now hushed forever, they 
 cut it to pieces as though it had been leather. 
 
 Here they murdered Julius Caesar "The noblest 
 Roman of them all," and brought his mangled, 
 bleeding body to gloat over. I could almost see the 
 blood stains still upon the Rostrum. Caesar didn't 
 have our religion and civilization. He was harsh 
 and bloody and yet he stands out as one of the 
 greatest men of the world. He certainly had some 
 great and noble traits. He was not a renegade like 
 Tiberius, nor a sneaking traitor like Brutus. He 
 was a world-builder and a world-ruler to the man- 
 ner born. When the dire plot was mature to take 
 his life, and in the Forum they bore down upon him 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 217 
 
 like wolves in the night upon a helpless traveler, 
 he fought them single handed with a greatness and 
 a heroism true to him. Men who owed their lives 
 and fortunes to him were slashing at his heart with 
 their knives. The hand of Brutus who owed so 
 much to Caesar reached forth to take his blood, 
 and as it pierced his flesh the mighty Roman 
 turned his eyes full on him and said "You too Bru- 
 tus"? Whatever faults Caesar had, he would not 
 have done to them what they did to him. It made 
 the heart feel strange to stand where all these things 
 were done. 
 
 Just below the Forum the street runs into a large 
 circular building which would set your mind to 
 wondering if you did not recognize it from the many 
 pictures you have seen. It is the great Coliseum, 
 where the streams of Roman life used to come to 
 see the games. 
 
 The building is on such a tremendous scale it over- 
 whelms you to look upon it. It is built of stone, 
 several stories high with many entrances. A large 
 part of it is in ruins because many people of modern 
 times got the material from it to build their homes 
 in Rome, but not until they had used powder to 
 loosen them, for the old Romans built it as they did 
 their other works. That portion of the building 
 not preyed upon by the vandalism of man is stand- 
 ing in fine state of preservation. Passing in one 
 of the entrances we looked upon what might truly 
 be called one of the wonders of the world. Tier on 
 tier rose seats where the life of Rome used to sit 
 until there was room for nearly ninety thousand 
 
218 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 people seated in the great theatre, all facing the 
 great arena in front, which was in plain view 
 to all. Often, this place was full, and it must have 
 been a sight beyond power to imagine, to see the 
 tremendous crowds of Rome's gay life pouring from 
 the seven hills of the Eternal City into the entrances 
 of this great building which stands where several 
 streets meet. The vision that meets the eye as you 
 gaze upon that brilliant throng in its gayety and 
 gorgeousness, and the great building finished with 
 the art and wealth of Rome's fine hand, produced a 
 scene that has never been equalled in the history of 
 the human race. 
 
 Passing into the center we stood upon the arena, 
 where the eyes of Rome used to look down on blood 
 as it flowed in rivers, and in the calm gathering of 
 twilight we prayed. What a difference in this place 
 then and now? Now it is a place of desolation and 
 stillness while peace casts her mantle down. But 
 then what was it that met the gaze of heaven ? Yon- 
 der is the place where Nero and his Royalty and 
 Nobility sat along with the vestal virgins, who di- 
 rected the games according to their fiendish whims. 
 When a foe was cast to the ground, if they raised 
 their thumbs he was spared, if they held them down 
 he was thrust through with a sword. Here are the 
 trap doors leading to the dens. These dens were kept 
 filled with the fiercest wild beasts. Large numbers of 
 men at great expense were kept busy hunting down 
 these beasts in sufficient quanity to entertain the 
 Emperor and his people. What a task it was to 
 gather up these ferocious beasts and get them alive 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 219 
 
 to their dens below the arena? Many gladiators 
 fought to the death on this arena to entertain gay- 
 Rome. 
 
 Several thousand were kept in training all the time. 
 They were glad to run the fearful risk of the awful 
 fate that sooner or later was sure to be theirs in 
 the hope of receiving from those galleries the ap- 
 plause of Rome. What will men not do for a little 
 applause? Many criminals were condemned to the 
 arena where they fought with the beasts as Rome 
 looked on. But the reason this place is dear to 
 every Christian heart and brings to you the feel- 
 ing you have at Calvary, is not because deluded 
 fools met to shed one another's blood in quest of 
 the approving smile of Rome's fair ladies, or be- 
 cause criminals were limbed by lions, while the 
 crowd cheered. The reason is that this is the place 
 where more Christians met their death to vindicate 
 their faith than any where else in the world. It 
 seemed to me as I stood there after eighteen centu- 
 ries the earth was so black and soaked in blood that 
 you could almost take a handful of dirt and squeeze 
 it out. The fights of gladiators and criminals be- 
 came too tame for Rome's fair ladies and gallant 
 gentlemen. Old Nero, having burnt a section of the 
 city, felt an aroused public would hound him down 
 on account of this and other deeds too vile to men- 
 tion. He had poisoned his own mother and 
 kicked his wife Poppea to death for another 
 young face, upon which his crime-soaked soul had 
 looked, and, desiring some new excitement and 
 entertainment he had the Christians accused of 
 
220 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the base deeds he himself had done. They were 
 arrested by wholesale, cast into dungeons, where in 
 starvation, filth and disease they awaited their turn 
 at the arena. Day after day large numbers of them, 
 men women and little children were cast in the 
 arena for Rome's entertainment and subjected to 
 shameful treatment too awful and revolting to tell. 
 Disrobed, they were tied to the horns of wild bulls 
 and the heels of horses, or soaked in oils and tied 
 to stakes about the arena and set on fire, that their 
 burning bodies might give light for the games. 
 They were put in the arena and those awful trap 
 doors raised so the half-starved lions, leopards and 
 tigers could come out to feed upon them. Rome 
 laughed and cheered at their dying groans and 
 prayers, mingled with the snarls and roars of the 
 devouring beasts and gazed enraptured as the 
 beasts tore their flesh, crushed their bones, drank 
 blood and satisfied, slept upon the sands. It is 
 said it took a small army of men the rest of the 
 time till the next entertainment to clear the arena 
 of loads and loads of mangled forms and blood and 
 put it in shape with clean sand and perfumery and 
 incense, for sometimes the odors were almost too 
 much for the depravity of Rome. 
 
 It seemed to me in the gathering night as we 
 stood there, I could almost see a ladder let down 
 from heaven to that blood-stained arena, while down 
 it came an army of angels with Christ Himself the 
 Leader. When the Master's holy feet, still showing 
 the place where the nails were driven, rested on the 
 ground, He raised his hand pierced and bleeding 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 221 
 
 still. From the bloody dirt below, I saw an army 
 of souls rise up in garments white and glisten- 
 ing. Their faces were filled with heavenly light 
 and their foreheads crowned with beautiful 
 crowns of everlasting life. They met their Savior 
 singing "Hallalujah, hallelujah, redeemed by the 
 blood of the Lamb." An angel took each one by 
 the hand and Jesus leading the way, they started 
 up the golden ladder, while from the top of the 
 ladder of gold came a volumn of song that shook 
 the stones of Rome, and the song they were sing- 
 ing was, 
 
 "Up to the bountiful giver of life 
 God's children are gathering Home." 
 
 And then I saw another vision: old Nero was 
 making his last retreat, followed by those enraged 
 souls who sought his blood. His throne was lost; 
 his power gone. No one in all the world loved him, 
 but all the men hated him. No heart had a tender 
 feeling of respect for him but all loathed him. He 
 was followed by his enemies and by red-eyed devils 
 hot upon his trail to close out the mortage they held 
 on his sin-soaked soul. The bloody ghosts of all 
 his crimes that night bore down upon him in 
 an army he could not drive back, while they reached 
 out their bony hands clutching at his throat. And 
 conscience, that great white spirit that cannot be 
 driven off forever but after all crime and sin known 
 to man has thrust him away, will come back to 
 press with a hand of iron his eternal claims upon 
 the soul, was there, white but strong. This daunt- 
 
222 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 less spirit gripped the soul of the doomed victim 
 until his breath was almost gone. In the darkness 
 that gathered about him he drove his dagger into 
 his bloated, polluted carcass once decked in royal 
 robes. With an eternal darkness falling on his eyes 
 and a multitude crowding down to grind his filthy 
 flesh under their heels in the dust, a legion of devils 
 gripped his soul and bore it beyond the confines of 
 hope into outer darkness, shouting in triumph over 
 the trophy that they bore. 
 
 It has been wondered how the human race can 
 become so repraved. Without the saving and re- 
 straining power of the Gospel of Christ, with all 
 the culture and greatness the world can give, it is 
 a downward course and humanity has fallen to the 
 bottom and it will do so again without this saving 
 power. 
 
 On the other side of the Forum is a dungeon. 
 We climbed down these narrow steps into the stifling 
 air of this underground cell, whose only means of 
 light was a little overhead window through which 
 a feeble little stream of light made its way. This 
 was where the Apostle Paul spent his last days in 
 Rome. Here by this feeble light, chained to a sol- 
 dier, his limbs shackled until they were chafed and 
 raw, he wrote some of that wonderful portion of 
 the Bible that has so richly blest the world. Here, 
 it is supposed he wrote portions of Galatians, Ephe- 
 sians, Phillipians, Colossians and the Epistles to 
 Timothy. Here, he spent his last days isolated 
 from friends and loved ones. After a life of wan- 
 dering and hardship he was closing out his days, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 223 
 
 deprived of the communion and sympathy of his 
 brethren. His only attendant was the Roman guard. 
 He knew full well what his end would be. Perhaps 
 his reason in appealing to Caesar was to claim his 
 right as a Roman citizen and get the privilege of 
 preaching the gospel in Rome. After preaching 
 with the power of the Spirit to the Eternal City he 
 waited in his imprisonment for his earthly end. 
 The last word he wrote was to his son in grace, 
 Timothy, and through him to the Church for all 
 time. He is speaking his last word; his nerve is 
 steady; his heart is strong; his head is clear. Cast- 
 ing a backward glance along the road he had al- 
 ready come, he writes, "I have fought a good fight" ; 
 (you can almost hear the clank of the chains as he 
 drags them along in writing). Of course he had 
 fought a good fight; few men under such tremen- 
 dous odds had fought as hard or a better fight. "I 
 have finished my course." Glorious thing to say. He 
 had run his race and finished the work he had to do. 
 "I have kept the faith"; how well he had kept it! 
 All the power of earth and hell had never been able 
 to make him lose faith. Blessed is he who can 
 say these three things as he looks back. Then 
 quietly he looks at the present. The axe is in the 
 hand of the executioner and will soon add his blood 
 to the stream that flows in Rome : "I am now ready 
 to be offered up." To all the sacrifices the earth 
 had known, including Calvary, he was ready, g^ad 
 to offer his own life. "The time of my departure 
 is at hand." The wonderful vision of this man had 
 swept beyond the realm of death ; to him there was 
 
224 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 no such thing as dying; he was just waiting, tired 
 and worn upon the shore, for the ship to come to 
 take him to the blessed home that awaited him be- 
 yond the storms and troubles of earth. "My depar- 
 ture," what a wonderful conception of death ! Then 
 sweeping the clear and cloudless sky of the vast 
 future, he added: "Henceforth there is laid up for 
 me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
 Righteous Judge shall give me at that day." Of 
 course there was. No man who had the past and 
 present experience that was his would fail to get 
 the future reward. "And not to me only but to all 
 them also that love His appearing." Wonderful as- 
 surance. Greater than all the greatness of Rome, 
 the Eternal City, is the promise God gives His chil- 
 dren in the Heavenly City. 
 
 I did not write the Pope I was coming to Rome, 
 for I did not want him to go to any extra trouble 
 for me. In fact I hardly expected I would go to see 
 him for I did not take any low-neck clothes or pon- 
 tifical pantaloons, and felt I did not have sufficient 
 duds and dusters to be nosing in such quarters. 
 
 I ventured to visit the king of Italy in his gorgeous 
 palace, and drop in to look at the dazzling house of 
 the Kaiser and even peep through the premises of 
 the Sultan of Turkey, with such clothes as I wore, 
 but then the pope of Rome is different! He puts 
 himself up above all kings of the earth and sits 
 down on the throne of God to be ruler of heaven 
 and earth, Besides my clothes, I didn't have cre- 
 dentials. It is true I had a passport as an American 
 citizen, signed by William J. Bryan and other cer- 
 
u 
 
 O 
 
 -a 
 u 
 
 p 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 225 
 
 tificates to tell from whence I came and who I was, 
 but what are such poor papers in the presence of 
 the pope of Rome? I knew no priest or cardinal 
 to sign my pass to St. Peter's throne, and while 
 there was a strong blue stream of good old Irish 
 blood coursing through the crimson tide of my life, 
 it was that tide you do sometimes find in the Emer- 
 ald Isle that bears on its flood no cargo of love or 
 homage to him who sits on Peter's (?) throne and 
 holds the keys in his hands. In case I should see 
 him, I had the rheumatism of Protestant indepen- 
 dence in my joints and could not bow to him, and I 
 had a fever blister on my lips and could not kiss his 
 toe, no matter how clean it was. Thus handicapped 
 by circumstances and heredity, I did not write him 
 I was coming, but thought if I did go to see him, 
 I would take him by surprise. However, one of the 
 most unexpected and highly enjoyed pleasures of 
 my visit to Rome was seeing the pope. It did turn 
 out to be a pleasure and this is how it came about 
 and why it was a pleasure. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon, the great Italian Mureski 
 was to sing at St. Peter's. During the week we had 
 heard him sing in St. John's and so thrilled were 
 we that we desired to hear him again. His voice 
 is one of the most wonderful of the world's singers. 
 It sounds like a big choir of female voices com- 
 pletely filling the building. When told he was to 
 sing in St. Peter's on Sunday afternoon, we finished 
 our dinner and Williams, Gibson and myself made 
 our way toward St Peter's. Enormous crowds of 
 people, on cars, carriages and afoot were moving 
 
226 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 that way, among them a large number of priests, 
 more than I had ever before seen in my life. We 
 thought they were going to the service in St. Peter's 
 but when we saw the crowd going into the right 
 wing of the Vatican instead of the Cathedral, we 
 enquired the meaning of it and were told in Italian 
 that the people were going to see the pope. 
 
 For a while we thought it was one of the fakes 
 they serve you so often in these countries and we 
 paid little attention to it until we were assured by 
 several, who seemed to know, that it was true and 
 the pope was giving a public audience in the court 
 of the Vatican. We were still in doubt and felt that 
 if he was to be seen, we must be counted out as we 
 had no ticket and had no pull to get one, but with 
 that curiosity that makes one follow a crowd we 
 fell in, determined to go until we were halted. This 
 was not long, for we ran into two Swiss guards, 
 dressed up like dancing monkeys with drawn 
 swords. They demanded us, in Italian, to halt. At 
 least, that is what I suppose they said though they 
 may have told us they were glad to see us. Any- 
 how, we halted. We finally understood we could not 
 be admitted unless we had tickets, and not being 
 able to get any intelligent information as to how 
 and where the tickets were to be secured, we turned 
 back toward St. Peter's. 
 
 Presently we met a stout Italian, who, in a whis- 
 per, asked us if we wanted to see the pope. We said 
 we were trying to see all the ruins of Europe and 
 would like to count him in if we could, but could not 
 see him because we had no ticket, and didn't know 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 227 
 
 whose coat to pull to get one. The rascal then in- 
 formed us he had some tickets, and while it was 
 against the law to do it he would sell us some for 
 two lires, 40 cents each. This made us indignant 
 and we turned away in disgust. But on second 
 thought we decided it would be worth while for us 
 as free-born American citizens to pay the forty cents 
 and see one of the greatest shows of the earth a 
 deluded multitude bowing down to their man-god. 
 And looking back upon it now, I consider it one of 
 the best investments I ever made. We paid the fel- 
 low and took the ticket which I have saved as a 
 souvenir, for I somehow got by the guards without 
 giving up my ticket. Here is the ticket : 
 
 No. 4355. Gratis. 
 
 Anticamera Pontifica 
 Permesso per assistere all 'Udienza di Sue Santita 
 nel gromo di Domenicia 2 Agosto alle on 17,30 
 5% P. M. Dal Vatican 31 Luglio 1914 L'engress 
 e dal por Vittorio Ameded Rannuzzee De Beanche 
 tone di Brongo. Arcevescove tit de Tiro. 
 
 Maestro De Camera De Sua Santita. 
 
 Notice it is gratis. Of course Rome could not 
 afford to advertise such a show of the pope and 
 charge for seeing him perform. So to save their 
 faces they pretend it is a free religious service in 
 which the pope partakes, and that it is against the 
 law to sell tickets, and that the blame for the 
 selling is on those who secure them illegally and 
 sell them themselves. But how do the men who get 
 them, get them in such large quantities? 
 
228 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 My number was 4355, which means I was the 
 four thousand, three hundred and fifty-fifth, and 
 there were twice that many more almost that fol- 
 lowed. And yet the pope is welcome to my forty 
 cents and I will not even ask him how he spent it. I 
 got the worth of my money, and learned more les- 
 sons for forty cents than I've learned in some schools. 
 But, Rome, don't come to me advertising your mon- 
 key show as a gratis religious service, and then 
 have the town full of ticket agents selling to every- 
 body. 
 
 After we bought our tickets we fell in line with 
 the crowd that grew larger every second and were 
 borne on the tide through the door of the Vatican, 
 out into the large and beautiful court. Everything 
 was grand and imposing. Such an array of cardi- 
 nals, priests, seers and bead counters could not be 
 found anywhere else in the world. All about us 
 Catholics were counting beads and clasping costly 
 crucifixes in their hands. On one side of us was the 
 company of Swiss guards with uniforms of gold 
 and glory it would be hard to surpass, and heavily 
 armed. On the other side was the Royal Italian 
 guards with costumes and swords in keeping with 
 the occasion. Officers and guards were lined up 
 all about the enclosure. The crowd from behind 
 pressed us until we were near the center of the 
 great enclosure. Above us on the first balcony stood 
 the red-hatted cardinals, prominent among them, 
 Merrv Del Val, who, on one occasion locked horns 
 with Roosevelt and Fairbanks. And whatever faults 
 you find with Mr. Roosevelt, let us remember in 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 229 
 
 passing, he gave the pope and cardinal a good stiff 
 black eye when they served notice on him that he 
 would have to refuse to speak in the Methodist 
 Church or not come to the Vatican. We all know 
 how he went to the Methodist Church and cut the 
 Vatican. Some statesman would not have done it. 
 After a while the great court was full, contain- 
 ing perhaps ten thousand folks. Several bands be- 
 gan to play music that charged the air and thrilled 
 the soul. There was a flutter in the balcony in 
 front and* a still greater flutter through the crowds, 
 men bowed their heads and moved their lips, women 
 closed their eyes, hugged their crucifixes tighter and 
 counted their beads. Then a silver trumpet ap- 
 peared from a window above as if an angel from 
 heaven had come to blow it; for, looking into it, I 
 saw no man. Then out upon the air, from the 
 mouth of that silver trumpet came the sweetest 
 strains of music it seemed to me I had ever listened 
 to. All eyes were lifted to the door above, and the 
 crowd was as still as death. Then into the doorway 
 stepped the snowwhite figure of Pius X, pope of 
 Rome. When the crowd saw him it almost took my 
 breath away, for I had not expected what happened. 
 I had supposed they would be still and reverent. I 
 have never seen anything like it. I have seen the 
 political conventions of the olden days. I have been 
 in the crowd when Roosevelt came to town, and 
 among a hundred thousand I have seen him show 
 his teeth. I have seen Bryan send up his guns from 
 the trenches in a multitude that shook the earth; 
 but I have never seen anything like that Sunday 
 
230 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 in the Vatican. It seemed to me a dozen bands 
 turned loose an explosion of accumulated music that 
 jarred the Vatican, and the yells and screams that 
 rose from the crowd seemed to make the Tiber 
 tremble. Above the roar I heard many cry, "Papa, 
 Papa," which in their language meant father or 
 pope. After Pius had received their acclaim for 
 a while he bowed his head and raised his hand, and 
 as though a hand from heaven had paralyzed the 
 crowd, their music ceased, their lips were still, and 
 hugging to their hearts their images, they fell upon 
 the ground. They threw kisses at him, since they 
 were too far away to kiss his foot, and mumbled 
 out their prayers to him as though they had sud- 
 denly met the Lord God Almighty face to face. 
 While the preliminaries were going on we held a 
 conference to know what to do. All were supposed 
 to bow. Guards and soldiers, as well as priests and 
 fanatics, were all about us. If we declined to do 
 homage to their god we knew not what they might 
 do to us. There came charging through the flood- 
 tide of my blood the Protestant fires back along my 
 ancestral lines from the days of Cromwell; there 
 rose before me the silken colors of my country's 
 flag, and above all there rose the Christ of God who 
 died for me and alone deserved my worship. I am 
 sure my brethren felt as I did. So when the crowd 
 went down we rose straighter and stood higher, 
 looking beyond the white form of the pope of Rome 
 to the pure, free skies above his head, where God our 
 Father receives from earth the worship of His chil- 
 dren. We three were the only ones in that part of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 231 
 
 the great crowd we saw standing. There may have 
 been others behind us, but none in front stood. 
 Many Protestants stood for a few seconds, but could 
 not endure the strain and went down. All the time 
 I expected a blow on the head by an officer or wor- 
 shipper because we did not worship with them, but 
 it did not come. When he had whined out his 
 droning Latin prayer the people arose; the pope, 
 leaning on the arm of his body guard, passed back 
 into the Vatican, and the crowd dispersed, scatter- 
 ing itself through the streets of Rome. We made 
 our way back to the hotel happy. We had seen 
 the pope of Rome, and our knees (had not bowed 
 to him. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ON THE SHORES OF CANAAN. 
 
 The long looked-for moment in the journey had 
 come. On the morning of July 6, 1914, our boat 
 cast anchor off from Joppa, and our eyes rested 
 on the hills of "The Promised Land." Before us 
 lay that wonderful little strip of land that has 
 wrought its name in the fabric of human history 
 as no other land the sun ever shone on. Other lands 
 have been great in the world's history because of 
 the might of their brains and the skill of their 
 hands. They have built lasting monuments and left 
 their names written forever on the pages of his- 
 tory. But whatever other lands have done since the 
 world swung out fresh from the hand of God, it 
 remained for this little plot of earth along the Medi- 
 terranean Sea to earn in the record of history the 
 title, "Holy Land." In the soil of these hills God 
 selected the place to plant the Tree of Faith, whose 
 shade was destined to shelter the world. Here is 
 the only place of which history has any knowledge 
 that the Lord God walked and talked in living form 
 with men. Around these hills and historic moun- 
 tains He tied the mighty chain of His never-failing 
 love and moored the world to His eternal throne 
 so it could never drift away. Here He built with 
 man His nation and set up His kingdom, sitting in 
 all the councils of His people, giving them their 
 laws, and handing down from heaven the patterns 
 by which they should build. Here was the cradle of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 233 
 
 His church ; here His own Son was sent to save the 
 people, and they shed His blood upon the hills God 
 loved so well. 
 
 Every hill, stream, stone and tree in this land 
 has a history of joy and sorrow, light and shadow, 
 life and death, that would fill a book. Upon 
 these hills the Bible was made, and its mighty 
 characters lived in flesh and blood and wrought and 
 died. Is it strange that this land should be so near 
 to the heart of the Christian? Is it not natural that 
 to look upon it and set foot upon its shores should 
 give feelings that cannot be recorded? We felt 
 that morning, gazing on that shore, that we were 
 coming now to the goal of all our travels, and it 
 seemed we could almost see the living figures of 
 the giants of this land standing on the shore to 
 meet us. 
 
 The length of Palestine is one hundred and fifty 
 miles, and its area, both east and west of the river 
 Jordan. That this little country should have had 
 a history above all lands is of course due to the fact 
 that in gaining the title, "Holy Land," it records 
 the history of man, God and the devil contending 
 for the mastery. 
 
 Is it not strange that the beautiful and peaceful 
 hills God selected to plant a lovely garden for His 
 children and build their home, should have been 
 the scene of the worst bloodshed and warfare the 
 nations have known? This country was repeatedly 
 been overrun by armies which have wrested it 
 from one another. It (has been invaded by the 
 Scythians, the Persians, the Parthians, the Persians 
 
234 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 again, the Turks twice the Mongols three times, 
 by Alexander the Great, by the Romans, by the 
 Crusaders, and by the Turks again, who have held 
 possession for nearly eight hundred years. The 
 wonder is there is anything left after the invading 
 hosts and heartless vandals have preyed upon it so 
 long. 
 
 Perhaps this is a good place to remark what more 
 and more seems to me to be a strange stroke of the 
 hand of Providence. We have been taught from 
 youth that "God moves in mysterious ways His 
 wonders to perform." How He does take some of 
 the works of the devil and make them work for His 
 glory is a mighty evidence that His hand in on the 
 pilot wheel. It seems to me the rankest fatalist 
 could not have the heart to accuse God, our Maker 
 and Father, of being the author of the sin, shame 
 and misery of the earth. None would insult heaven 
 and earth by claiming God was in league with the 
 low and vile government of Turkey, and yet how God 
 has put His hand into the affairs of the Turks and 
 other evil people and worked out things for His 
 glory is a study great and true. If Palestine had 
 not fallen into the hands of the Turks, who believed 
 in no advancement, and refused to let its sacred 
 shrines and objects be explored by modern mer- 
 chants; even preserving almost entirely the very 
 life and customs of the olden times, because they 
 believed in nothing new, we might have lost forever 
 from the earth the Bible land as it was. For the 
 greatest value of Palestine to Bible students is that 
 it is not modern, but is almost as it was before the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 235 
 
 days of Jesus. Modern changes have only recently 
 begun to take hold, but soon will sweep the country 
 as the Turks pass forever from the stage of history 
 and modern nations occupy the sacred hills. What 
 they will do with it remains to be seen. 
 
 We were now ready to land and begin our long 
 trip through the holy hills. Long had my heart 
 throbbed in anticipation of the days now before 
 me. The dream over which I had planned and 
 prayed so long was ready to come true. This was 
 really the Promised Land, and now my feet would 
 walk upon it. I wondered if it would be disap- 
 pointing? I almost dreaded it. Would closer view 
 and real touch take away any of the sacredness of 
 that history? Would what I should see of sin and 
 common clay lower my idea of the Bible and weaken 
 my faith in God and Jesus Christ my Savior? T 
 had heard of those upon whom this result had come. 
 I heard some of my friends say they did not want 
 to go for fear it would thus affect them. If the 
 journey would bring this result to me I wanted 
 then to turn my face the other way and go home. 
 Behind those hills my faith was anchored to the 
 truth they knew. On the mighty rocks out there 
 my soul was moored to the faith that arose one 
 day. The breeze of this land had swept my soul, 
 and its songs sounded in my heart. If aught of 
 charm should pass away ; if one whit less the chain 
 of faith should hold me to the truth; if a single 
 cloud should pass across the sun of hope that shone 
 from over these hills upon my soul because of this 
 journey now before us, I wanted to say "good-bye" 
 
236 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 to my friends and let them go on without me, leav- 
 ing me to return deprived of the journey, but pos- 
 sessing still the cherished charm of the things of 
 God. 
 
 I am glad to say, now that the journey is over 
 and I am back again pursuing my humble course 
 over the hills herding my Master's sheep, that no 
 such result came to my soul. Whatever the result 
 may be to those who make that journey, it has done 
 more for me than my fondest dream had pictured. 
 My faith has been reinforced with the iron bands 
 of living reality; the truth has come for my eyes 
 to see and my hands to touch; my soul has been 
 lightened with a radiance I could find no where 
 else on earth ; the Bible and all its history is covered 
 with a charm it never had before. These are some 
 of the results that came to me as I traveled through 
 the Holy Land, my Bible in hand, reading the his- 
 tory, life and gospel it had made in those places, 
 with a prayer upon my lips that God would make 
 it real. 
 
 One essential thing to a pleasant and profit- 
 able trip through Palestine is to have the right kind 
 of a dragoman and guides, for much depends upon 
 them. Our dragoman was Philip Jallouk, and his 
 assistants were his brothers, George, Charlie and 
 Abashia. I don't think it is putting it too strong 
 to say nobody in Palestine or elsewhere ever had 
 a better set of men to guide them. This is proven 
 by the fact that they had charge of Miss Helen 
 Gould and her party a few years ago when she 
 made a tour of the Holy Land, and they received 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 237 
 
 from her the highest commendation. They are 
 Syrians, and descendants of the best families of 
 the days of the Crusaders. Perhaps their race even 
 goes back and takes up the blood of Abraham. 
 They are intelligent, cultured, educated Christian 
 gentlemen, being faithful members of the Episcopal 
 Church in Jerusalem. They were kind and friendly, 
 doing everything possible for our welfare and com- 
 fort. They spoke English with as much ease as 
 they did their own tongue. In fact, they were at 
 home in any tongue they found in that land. Philip, 
 especially, was one of the most attractive person- 
 alities I have met. There was a charm about his 
 manner, his mellow voice, and the warmth of his 
 soul that drew us all to him. He was thoroughly ver- 
 sed in the Bible as well as all the life and custom 
 of Palestine, and his reverence and devotion to his 
 Lord and His land was beautiful. We cannot feel 
 too highly our debt to Philip in making our jour- 
 ney a pleasant and profitable one. Philip was the 
 general director and lecturer, while George looked 
 after the business side of the trip, and Charlie and 
 Abashia attended to the personal needs of the party. 
 Much has been said about the rough landing at 
 Joppa, and perhaps it all is deserved. There is no 
 harbor here, and the water is nearly always rough, 
 since there is nothing to break the waves. The 
 boats anchored out some distance from the shore and 
 little boats came gliding like ducks through the 
 rough and jagged rocks to take us ashore. About 
 two hundred of them ran alongside our ships and 
 their owners came onto the decks like rats in a bin, 
 
238 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 climbing over one another and up the sides of the 
 boat like squirrels. They beseiged us and seized 
 us, clattering and clamoring in their jabbering, 
 until we almost had to fight to keep them from tak- 
 ing us bodily away. 
 
 After awhile we found our guides, were assigned 
 to our boats, and started for land. The boats lay 
 along side the ship rising and falling with the 
 waves. It seemed to me they rose as high as a 
 house. We were started down the ladder like cat- 
 tle, and as the little boats rose on the crest of the 
 waves we were shoved into them before the waves 
 receded and they went down. Sometimes people 
 would hesitate, and they were picked up and pitched 
 over like sacks of corn. When our boats were full 
 we made our way through the jagged rocks, guided 
 by the skill of our oarsmen, who saw to it no evil 
 befell us. Yet, in spite of their skill, many acci- 
 dents occur in these rough and dangerous waters. 
 
 Joppa is noted in Bible history for several things. 
 It was in these waters here that Jonah went down 
 in a submarine. He was swallowed because he got 
 on the wrong track, and many men to-day get swal- 
 lowed because they get on the wrong ship. I re- 
 cently met an educated (?) youth who wanted to 
 question the orthodoxy of this Bible story. He said 
 a whale could not swallow a man for his throat was 
 only six inches wide. I told him that was easy. If 
 he was to meet a whale in the road it would scare 
 him so he would shrink up until he could go through 
 an inch auger hole, and I guess Jonah did the same 
 thing. I then called his attention to the fact that 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 239 
 
 the Bible did not say it was a whale, but "the Lord 
 prepared a fish" for the occasion. If God could 
 make some things He has made, does it not seem 
 that he could fix up a fish to swallow a sinner? 
 But Jonah didn't stay down. You can't keep a good 
 man down, and I reckon some sinners would taste 
 so bad a fish could not keep them down. My same 
 young friend, who was tainted with higher or lower 
 criticism, I don't know which, was also puzzled over 
 Baalam's experience. He said it was unreasonable 
 to think of an ass talking, and asked me if I had 
 ever heard one talk. I replied that I had a great 
 many times. I was listening to one then. 
 
 Joppa is also noted because it is the chief sea- 
 port to Jerusalem. From the interior commerce 
 comes to Joppa to be exported, and into Joppa 
 comes a large amount of the imports for Palestine. 
 Here Solomon landed the timbers for the temple in 
 Jerusalem. They were brought by ships down 
 from the Lebanon Mountains. Here also was 
 landed the gold and silver from Tyre. In those days 
 of limited machinery it must have been a task to 
 get these timbers out of the mountains, down to 
 the boats, and then get them from Joppa fifty miles 
 over rough hills to Jerusalem. 
 
 We landed in the midst of confusion. Traders, 
 beggars, donkeys, camels, and other things bade 
 us welcome. The poor beasts were groaning under 
 heavy burdens. It is a land heavy laden and full 
 of burdens. 
 
 Through dirty streets we made our way, passing 
 camels and donkeys who poked their noses into us 
 
240 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 uninvited and almost ran over us. We stopped to 
 get a picture of the street cleaning department of 
 the city, which consisted of an Arab boy loading 
 garbage in a basket on a donkey's back. Some 
 buildings we passed we were told were soap fac- 
 tories. If so, the people there must be like our doc- 
 tors, who will not take the medicine they prescribe 
 for other folks. 
 
 We came presently to the house of Simon the 
 tanner, who lived by the seaside; and climbed to 
 the top of the house where Peter saw the vision of 
 the sheet descending from heaven and was taught 
 the great lesson that God is no respector of persons. 
 God brought Cornelius to him there to be converted. 
 (Acts 10). This may not be the exact site, but it 
 is surely near it. It was here also, that Peter raised 
 Dorcas from the dead, as her friends gathered about 
 her, showing the garments which she had made 
 for them. We visited her beautiful tomb erected 
 by the Greek Church, which has honored this faith- 
 ful woman. A greater honor to her memory would 
 be to organize Dorcas Societies here, as has been 
 done elsewhere in the world, and try to lift the peo- 
 ple up. But they think the building of great tombs 
 is the greatest way they can honor the memory of 
 people. 
 
 Joppa is one of the oldest cities of the world. 
 It was given to the tribe of Dan in the distribution 
 of Palestine, and has been in existence most of the 
 time ever since, though sacked, pillaged and de- 
 stroyed many times. Napoleon seized the city, and 
 the mighty Saladin captured it in the days of the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 241 
 
 Crusaders. Not far from here, while Saladin's army 
 was camping, Richard led 2,700 prisoners on a hill 
 where they could be seen and cut them to pieces in 
 his sight, the soldiers trying to recover jewels they 
 believed them to have swallowed. Their galls were 
 cut out and saved for medicine. This gives an idea 
 of what has occurred on the holy hills in the name 
 of religion. 
 
 Joppa is a busy, active city, and while it is full 
 of filth and poverty, as all these cities are, it 
 has much magnificence. There are two Turkish 
 churches and a Greek church that are imposing. In 
 and around the town are some of the finest orange 
 orchards of the world, as well as other orchards. 
 The crops are raised by irrigation. It is crude, but 
 it answers, and it shows what all Palestine could 
 do if the custom was followed. 
 
 We boarded the train at the little station in the 
 edge of the city in the early afternoon, and turned 
 our faces across the Plain of Sharon. Wonderful 
 plain this is. It seems that it could feed the entire 
 country. As far as eye could see was wheat in the 
 harvest fields and flocks of goats and sheep. These 
 Syrian sheep differ from ours chiefly on account of 
 the big tails, on which the fat accumulates until 
 often it weighs several pounds. Their tails often 
 hang almost to the ground. The fat is hung up to 
 dry and used for cooking purposes, as it is needed. 
 From the moment of our arrival until our departure 
 from Palestine we were hardly out of sight of 
 sheep and goats, and many times our minds turned 
 to the many beautiful and important truths the 
 
242 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Master taught from these domestic animals. David's 
 herds fed upon this plain. (1st Chron. 27:29). Beau- 
 tiful beyond description is the plain when in spring- 
 time it is carpeted with a mass of many flowers 
 glistening with dew in the sunbeams. Chief among 
 these flowers is the Anemones or Rose of Sharon, 
 which tuned the songs of Israel's poets more than 
 once. In Song 2:1, the Bride speaks of herself, "I 
 am the Rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys." In 
 Isa. 35:2, the prophet speaking of the future of 
 Zion, says, "The glory of Lebanon shall be given 
 unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon. ,, In 
 other prophecies the Book deals with Sharon. 
 "Sharon shall be a fold for flocks/' How true that is. 
 
 On this plain we first saw the natives threshing 
 their wheat for it was harvest time in the same 
 way they did before the days of Christ. They pile 
 their wheat upon the threshing ground and drive 
 cattle over it until the wheat is separated, then they 
 throw it into the air and the breeze blows the chaff 
 away. As we saw this scene there came to our 
 minds the solemn figure of the Lord's description 
 of the Judgment, when the righteous should be sep- 
 arated from the lost. 
 
 After a journey of fifteen miles we left the Plain 
 of Sharon and passed into the hills. About us the 
 olive trees were white and green in the sun. Figs, 
 apricots and sycamore fruit were in evidence. At 
 one of the stations I bought a little tin pan full of 
 this fruit for a penny or two. I gave the boy his 
 money, but he began to cry as the train made ready 
 to go, thinking I intended going off with his pan. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 243 
 
 There is a great deal of this fruit in Palestine and 
 in the days of the country's glory there was still 
 more. It is eaten especially by the poorer classes 
 and is similar to figs. The taste is not very pleasant. 
 These trees are small and bushy and it was easy for 
 Zachaeus to climb one when Jesus passed by. When 
 the Prophet Amos was called to his work he was a 
 dresser of these trees. Amos 7:14. We also saw 
 for the first time the Carob tree or Prodigal son 
 tree. It grows a bean that is used for food by the 
 poorer classes and for feeding purposes, and it was 
 to these husks that the Prodigal turned for food as 
 he fed the hogs. 
 
 Our route brought us through the scene of the 
 most of Samson's career and with my Bible I read 
 of his rough and shadowed life as we came to the 
 places linked with his name. There was Zorah, 
 where he was born, and his mother dedicated him 
 to God with high hopes for his future. On the 
 mountain side, to the left, we saw the cave pointed 
 out as the place where he met the Philistines as 
 they crowded him and hurled thousands of them 
 down and slew them with a jaw bone. Here was 
 the place he tied the tails of the foxes together and 
 set fire brands on them and burned the Philistine 
 corn. It perhaps would have cleared up the matter 
 to those who have wondered how Samson caught 
 three hundred foxes, to have heard Philip say jack- 
 alls have always been called foxes and that they 
 go in large numbers and can be easily caught. Not 
 far from where we passed, this giant met his doom. 
 Like the pure and singing brooks of his native hills, 
 
244 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 he went a downward course until he sought the low 
 lands, where, though strong and mighty, yet pol- 
 luted, he entered eternity's boundless sea. There 
 has not been a more pathetic figure in the path of 
 history than Samson facing the Philistines the last 
 time, shaking himself with his old-time confidence 
 as he raised his mighty arm to strike them down, 
 only to find that arm had lost its strength while he 
 slept in the lap of sin. 
 
 Our little train also took us by Bethshemesh, 
 where God slew fifty thousand Philistines because 
 they tried to capture the Ark of Israel. 1 Sam. 6; 
 also the supposed home of Joseph of Aramathea 
 a faithful friend of Jesus in whose tomb Jesus was 
 buried. Joseph and Nicodemus were the only two 
 friends Jesus found in the Jewish Sandhedrin's 
 seventy Elders of Israel. 
 
 The course of the train as it made its way slowly 
 through the mountains of Israel crossed the Valley 
 of Ajalon, noted because it was here Joshua ordered 
 the sun to stand still that he might finish destroying 
 the Gibeonites before the night came. These moun- 
 tains were barren yet, in many places covered with 
 olive trees and showing the ruins of terisses, where 
 in olden times the trees grew in such abundance as 
 to cover the mountains. 
 
 Our train made a halt at a little station near 
 Philip's fountain, where the Apostle Philip baptized 
 the Eunuch. Here we had the laugh on our good 
 Baptist friends. Our guide Philip, was describing 
 the event to us while we listened. All around it was 
 desolate and barren. One of our Baptist brethren 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 245 
 
 asked, "Where is the fountain" ? Philip replied there 
 was no fountain here and never had been. Then 
 he added "They didn't baptize by immersion in 
 those days, everybody was baptized by sprinkling." 
 
 On we went by the spot pointed out as the home 
 of the old Saint Simeon, who blest the infant Je- 
 sus in the Temple at Jerusalem and with wonderful 
 prophetic insight called Him "A light to lighten the 
 Gentiles, and the Glory of Thy people Israel." Luke 
 2 :32. Philip pointed out to us the hill upon which 
 David was when God gave him the signal to attack 
 the Philistines, which was the moving among the 
 mulberry trees. 2 Sam. 5 :24. 
 
 We had climbed to the top of the mountain pla- 
 teau and were nearing the Holy City. Our path had 
 brought us through the territory of Dan and the 
 section occupied by the mighty Philistines who were 
 the strongest enemies Israel feared and whom they 
 never completely conquered. Palestine received its 
 name from this tribe and was known as the land of 
 Philistia later Philistin land, and then Palestine. 
 What strange feelings came to us this day as we 
 passed over the scenes of this Bible history. But 
 what greater experiences were yet before us? We 
 were nearing Jerusalem! I stood on the platform 
 of the little train and looked out to get the first 
 view of the Holy City ! Who could describe the feel- 
 ings at the first vision of Jerusalem! Around a hill 
 the city came suddenly before my eyes as if it had 
 been let down from heaven. There was the Mount of 
 Olives with its churches and olive trees, the Kedron 
 valley and Gethsemane, between it and the city 
 
246 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 walls; the city on a hill with the mountains all 
 around; the dome of the Mosque of Omar, the cite 
 of Solomon's Temple. There came to my mind the 
 words of the sweet singer of Israel "As the moun- 
 tains are round about Jerusalem so the Lord is 
 round about his people from this time forth and 
 forever more." Ps. 125 :2. 
 
 The train moved slowly into the station and half 
 dazed we got off. A crowd was here to meet the 
 crowd that the train had brought. Many pilgrims of 
 Jews and Mohammedans as well as American and 
 English tourists crowded this little train into Je- 
 rusalem. In the crowd that surged about the little 
 station I saw a very touching scene. 
 
 A bright-faced, happy looking Jewish girl was 
 coming home after two years absence in a Christian 
 school and her mother was there to meet her. Oh 
 how she did break down and weep with unspeakable 
 joy! Words came not to her lips. Her old mother's 
 face was full of love and down the wrinkles of her 
 cheeks the tears ran in little rivers. These scenes 
 made me think of another day and another city the 
 heavenly Jerusalem instead of the earthly one. The 
 old ship of Zion after perilous journeys over many 
 seas and through many storms is nearing the Haven 
 of Rest on the Shores of the River of Life. The 
 host of heaven from the City not made with hands 
 come down to meet the ship that is coming in and 
 welcome those on board to tjie heavenly home! 
 Those who land are searching the heavenly throng 
 for the faces of their loved ones and those who have 
 watched the ship come in are looking for the faces 
 of those they love. The mother sees her child and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 247 
 
 they fly into each others arms. Mothers clasp again 
 to their hearts the little ones they have "long since 
 lost but not forgot." Sisters and brothers, hus- 
 bands and wives and friends are meeting and greet- 
 ing one another in that happy land. No tears are 
 in any eyes, no trouble on any face. Above them 
 stands the blessed Savior with the light of eternal 
 love upon his beautiful face and the words of wel- 
 come on his lips while the blood-washed throng of 
 a hundred and forty and four thousand burst forth 
 in singing 
 
 Up to the bountiful mansions 
 
 Gathering Home! Gathering Home! 
 
 Safe in the arms of His infinite love 
 God's children are gathering home. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 RELIGIOUS AND SOCIAL CONDITIONS IN PALESTINE. 
 
 Published in Methodist Quarterly Review January 
 
 1922. 
 
 The world has never been more interested in Pales- 
 tine than now. This little piece of land between 
 the river Jordan and the Mediterranean, about the 
 size of South Carolina, has given to the world three 
 of its greatest religions and all things worth while 
 that go to hold earth's constitutions and civilization 
 together. It seems strange that a land that won the 
 title of "The Holy Land" because it was the birth- 
 place of the world's religion and the world's Re- 
 deemer should have been for ages a seat of war and 
 bloodshed. The land has been overrun by conquer- 
 ing armies fifty times, and there is hardly a square 
 inch of dirt or a stone that has not been wet with 
 human blood. 
 
 Palestine has gained a new and important place 
 in the geography and history of the world because 
 of its part in the great World War. Few students of 
 world issues with causes and effects of the late war 
 have realized the importance of Palestine in the 
 great stuggle. This is one of the most interesting 
 and fruitful fields of modern thought, but can now 
 only be alluded to in its bearing on the question 
 before us. The thunders of the guns in Flanders 
 and France so filled our ears that we did not think 
 much of the entrance of the gallant Allenby and his 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 249 
 
 brave army through the breach in the walls of the 
 Holy City made twenty years before for William 
 Hohenzollern to enter in royal pomp. This was the 
 rebirth of Palestine and a new era for the people 
 who live there. We are looking now toward Jeru- 
 salem and giving ourselves with new zeal to the 
 study of the country, its people and its history. 
 Among other questions, we are asking, "What are 
 the social and religious conditions of Palestine?" 
 
 It was my privilege to travel through Palestine in 
 1914 and also in 1921. In the interim, I eagerly 
 devoured everything that came to me. Having just 
 returned from Palestine and having been asked by 
 the editor to contribute an article on this subject, 
 I am happy to call one of my choice hobbies from the 
 stable and ride him some. The message will be 
 plain and simple, and many things will have to be 
 left out as we glean in such a wide field for so short 
 a time; but if the interest of any person in Bible 
 Lands and their people will be quickened, the effort 
 will be worth while. 
 
 In studying the present conditions in Palestine, it 
 must be remembered that the Turks dominated the 
 land for nearly a thousand years. Behind the Turks 
 was the siege of the crusaders and behind them the 
 dark ages of Israel's lapse from the religion of 
 Jehovah into heathenism. It is not necessary to 
 undertake any tirade against the Turk or any de- 
 scription of his morals and his manners. It is a 
 marvel that Palestine has survived so well under his 
 heathen rule. John R. Mott says : "If the Turk can- 
 not find a desert to live in, he will make a desert out 
 
250 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 of something else and live in it." He also says that 
 Mohammedanism is the most formidable foe Christi- 
 anity has met since Jesus was born. Mohammedans 
 are known the world over for their low ideas, their 
 debauchery of life, their degradation of womanhood, 
 and their guilt of all the blackest and lowest crimes 
 known to man. A thousand years of such rule must 
 produce a deplorable state in religious and social life. 
 
 It must also be remembered that the Christain 
 Church put forth but a feeble effort to counteract 
 this Moslem curse and make the Holy Land a Chris- 
 tian Land. We have been greatly interested in tak- 
 ing the gospel to China, Japan, Africa, and the is- 
 lands of the sea, but it seems that we have thought 
 little or cared little about seeing it triumph among 
 the hills where it was born and where our great 
 Redeemer first spoke its golden words of life and 
 light to the listening ears of man. This neglect of 
 the very home land of our Lord and our religion has 
 been a strange, sad blunder on the part of the Church 
 of Christ. 
 
 Missionary efforts have not been entirely lack- 
 ing, but they have been far below what they should 
 have been. The American University in Beirut has 
 been a strong factor in influencing the life of Pales- 
 tine and Syria. Missions under the English and the 
 Presbyterian Boards have operated with small sta- 
 tions in Bethlehem, Nazareth, Tiberius, and Safed, 
 but they have been weak and lacking in support. 
 The Christian Alliance has long had a very active 
 work in Jerusalem. All of these have done great 
 good in keeping the light from going out in the homes 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 251 
 
 and among the women, where their main efforts 
 were, but they have been hampered by their weak- 
 ness. 
 
 The Roman and Greek Catholic Churches have 
 been strong, but have been so honeycombed with 
 superstitution and formality that they have not been 
 a great force for morality and godliness. They have, 
 like the Moslems, spent much money gathered from 
 tax on their subjects to build gorgeous churches. 
 There is great need of large sums from the Protes- 
 tant Churches to build imposing and attractive 
 churches and schools in commanding places and 
 equip them with a strong force of prepared and con- 
 secrated workers. We could then compete with the 
 Catholic and Mohammedan Churches in our appeal 
 for attention and following. These people are very 
 susceptible to such impressions; and as great fools 
 as we take the Catholics and Moslems to be, they 
 have built churches that are appealing to the Orien- 
 tal mind and put them at the shrines and command- 
 ing places rather than having a poor shack on a side 
 street like we have in some cases. If we were wise 
 here as we are in other places, we could soon make 
 Palestine a really Christian country, for there is no 
 mission field with doors wider open and a stronger 
 Macedonian call. 
 
 The people of Palestine are naturally and consti- 
 tutionally a religious people, having descended from 
 a long religious line that traces its path back to the 
 olden days of Israel's altars. The native mind of 
 this Oriental world is inclined to believe far too 
 mdi. The supernatural appeals to them more than 
 
252 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD ^ . 
 
 the natural, furnishing fertile soil for the fake 
 priests, who have ever plied their trade in super- 
 stitious trickery. The crop has been a wonderful 
 collection of miraculous performances and legends. 
 You are shown the rod Aaron used and are told that 
 it still has magic power. Stories of the divine fires 
 that fall at intervals, the print on the rock Omar 
 where the Prophet bumped his head (he must have 
 had a hard one), the suspended rock that tried to 
 follow him to heaven, sacred bones, blood spots, and 
 pieces of garments with wonder-working power are 
 a few of the multitude of supernatural stories they 
 believe as they believe that the sun shines. But, 
 strong as the impression this superstitious religion 
 has made, it has had in it little that gives moral tone 
 to human life. A religious mind like this, however, 
 furnishes good soil for the real things of the gospel. 
 The most deplorable thing about Mohammedanism 
 is its blight on womanhood and home life. Women 
 were chattels without soul, little less than slaves, 
 confined most of the time at home ; and when they 
 left the confines of their prison homes, they went 
 with heathen veils over their faces. It was con- 
 sidered a curse for a girl baby to be borne in a home : 
 the mother was scorned and the father snubbed. The 
 Koran allowed four wives to each husband, and added 
 the liberal provision, "If he wanted more, let him 
 have them, for Allah was merciful and kind." Girls 
 were married when mere children. There were few 
 schools open to boys, and still fewer open to girls. 
 A few years ago it was estimated that nearly nine- 
 tenths of the natives were illiterate. The women 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 253 
 
 then seldom went to religious services and had prac- 
 tically no social life. 
 
 Other awful fruits of Turkish sowing were the 
 fearful health and sanitary conditions. There is 
 now one reputable physican for every twenty-five 
 thousand of the population in Palestine and Syria. 
 Before the war, it would have been nearer the truth 
 to place it at one for every one hundred thousand. 
 Flies and filth caused the spread of malaria, typhus 
 fever, consumption, leprosy, and that widespread 
 malady that hangs like a pall over the land blind- 
 ness. I visited the new hospital in Shechem and was 
 told by the superintendent that a majority of their 
 patients were suffering from disease of the eyes and 
 that nearly all of it was caused from flies and filth. 
 The poor babies had no one to keep the filthy flies out 
 of their eyes when they were helpless and were given 
 all the germs that could be gathered by these scaven- 
 gers. 
 
 There is one thing that must be said to the credit 
 of the women of Palestine and Syria : with all they 
 have had against them, they have a better moral 
 standard than the women of other near-by-lands. 
 Not once did I hear any member of our party say 
 that they came in contact with any woman who bore 
 marks of the underworld. This cannot be said of 
 any other part of our pilgrimage. 
 
 But great changes are being wrought in Palestine. 
 A mighty war like the last will shake the foundations 
 of all peoples ; and as great as the effect may be on 
 other lands, it is still greater in Palestine. It took 
 an awful toll of human life. One-third of the entire 
 
254 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 population of Syria died of disease and starvation. 
 The population of Jerusalem was cut in half, being 
 reduced from one hundred and twenty thousand to 
 sixty thousand. Many of these were killed, many 
 starved, and many drifted out, none but God knows 
 where. As awful as this was, it had some good 
 effects, because the country had always been overrun 
 with beggars and mendicants, who were a menace 
 to the nation. These disappeared first, leaving a 
 better chance for those left behind. The general 
 thought is that the land has more beggars than ever, 
 whereas the truth is they are few compared with 
 1914. 
 
 On Christmas day, 1918, God's Christmas gift to 
 Jerusalem was the coming of the British army and 
 the going out of the Turk. And nothing is truer 
 than that the retreat of the terrible Turk is forever 
 and the British have come to stay. It is hard to 
 refrain from remarking on the crime against civili- 
 zation that the nations calling themselves Christian 
 allowed the Turk to overrun Palestine and Armenia 
 so long. 
 
 Our British cousins are master colonizers, and 
 with their coming they bring better things. They 
 make mistakes, but they build up. On the crest of 
 the Mount of Olives overlooking Jerusalem is a 
 beautiful palace erected by the erstwhile bragging 
 bully of Berlin for one of his sons to occupy when 
 the House of Hohenzollern ruled the world. Over 
 that mansion now flies the Union Jack, for this is 
 the home of Sir Samuel, British High Commissioner 
 of Palestine. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 255 
 
 Beside the Joppa gate is a breach in the wall, made 
 there for ex-Kaiser to enter the city in royal splen- 
 dor when in 1898 he rode into the Holy City in a 
 chariot drawn by snowwhite horses. He was there 
 on an official visit felicitating with his friend, Adbul 
 Hamid, and he was dreaming of another day. Twenty 
 years later the gentle and gallant Allenby led the 
 conquering British army through the same breach 
 on foot. He is reported to have declined to ride, 
 saying that the Kaiser entered riding in a royal 
 chariot, Jesus of Nazareth entered riding a donkey, 
 but he felt unworthy to do aught but walk. 
 
 The modern tide is now sweeping over the Holy 
 Hills and flowing through the Holy City. Traffic 
 police stand guard in Jerusalem to prevent speeders 
 from running over Arabs and tourists. Jerusalem 
 has a telephone exchange, a splendid new water 
 system, a weekly paper published in English, He- 
 brew, and Arabic, electric lights shine over the city, 
 and in other ways the people are catching the spirit 
 of Western life. 
 
 Great work has been done by the Near East Or- 
 ganization and the Red Cross. The war gave them 
 great opportunities of service in the lives of the 
 people. Closed doors were opened and walls of pre- 
 judice broken. The people were won to the influence 
 of the newcomers. The British have established 
 government schools open to all, and the churches 
 now have about one hundred and fifty schools in the 
 land. These are all full and more knocking for ad- 
 mission. This awakening has been one of the most 
 noted changes. 
 
256 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 But the most notable change to me was the blow 
 that has struck Mohammedanism. A strange change 
 has passed over the children of the Prophet. In 1914 
 the weird call of the muezzin from the minaret was 
 ever in your ears, and when he called the faithful 
 everywhere could be seen leaving off whatever they 
 were doing, if they chanced to be doing anything, 
 and turn toward Mecca for prayer. In 1921 I kept 
 eye and ear open, but seldom heard the muezzin call, 
 and during the whole summer I did not see a dozen 
 folk at prayer. The mosques also were almost 
 empty save for lazy loafers taking naps. It seemed 
 that with the breaking of Turkish power in Pales- 
 tine there has also been a breaking of Mohammedan 
 influence. If this is true, it greatly strengthens the 
 plea for the Church of Christ to hasten. 
 
 Along with this is noted the wonderful changes 
 that are taking place among the women. They are 
 fast throwing off their heathen veils and are turn- 
 ing their faces to the sun. They are donning skirts 
 almost as short as those worn by their Western 
 sisters. They are also going about in high-heel shoes. 
 Redemption has come to the Palestine women after 
 centuries of weary waiting. 
 
 Palestine is governed by a mandate from the 
 League of Nations that gives Britain the power of 
 government there. It is one of the wisest and most 
 statesmanlike papers of modern times. In keeping 
 with the first order issued by General Allenby, it 
 ^establishes religious freedom, protects all sacred 
 places, permits each sect that controls a shrine to 
 continue to do so. Ecclesiastic courts and bodies 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 257 
 
 are recognized ; but there is a wise provision to the 
 effect that where any dispute arises Great Britain 
 reserves the full right of settlement. 
 
 Palestine is to be known as the "Jewish National 
 Home" and Jews were permitted to return along 
 with all others who come, but the rights of all must 
 be maintained. Last year, which was the first year 
 of the real working of the mandate, ten thousand 
 Jews entered Palestine seeking an asylum and home. 
 It is interesting to note that three hundred of these 
 came from North America, while the most of the 
 others came from the stricken sections of Europe. 
 In voicing a strong and united protest to this in- 
 vasion of their land, the natives claim that they 
 have lived there, it is their home, and it is manifest- 
 ly unfair to allow such strangers to overrun them. 
 They claim also that the most of these newcomers 
 were dependents, bringing nothing to help the coun- 
 try, but coming after what they could get. Palestine 
 was weakened and drained so that it could not sup- 
 port its own people, not to mention these thousands. 
 It was pointed out also that many of them were of 
 such low type, possessed with Bolshevistic natures, 
 that they would prove a serious menace to the coun- 
 try. Few of them were people of Christian ideals. 
 If they had come into a country with established 
 business and economic conditions strong enough to 
 absorb them and give them a place to live and earn, 
 where society could control them, it would have been 
 different ; but Palestine was too weak to do this for 
 them and would soon fall a victim to their preying. 
 This feeling and resentment became so strong, and 
 
258 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the Christians, Mohammedans, and natives protested 
 so much, that riots broke out in the spring. In Joppa 
 nearly a hundred were killed. England at once saw 
 that this was a question of such gravity that she 
 put a stop to all immigration until a satisfactory 
 agreement could be reached. 
 
 While this action, which the natives looked upon 
 as a serious blinder, lost friends for England, the 
 people of this land still believe in English and Ameri- 
 can civilization and believe that these two countries 
 are the only two countries that are able and willing 
 to render them an unselfish service. There was a 
 strong demand for America to take the mandate over 
 Syria, and the people voted three to one preferring 
 our nation over any other. They threw the doors 
 wide open and called loud and long, but our seats 
 of the mighty were at that time filled with political 
 checker players, and not missionary statesmen, who 
 were so absorbed in their petty selfish games that 
 they heard no Macedonian call. 
 
 But still the doors of service are wide open and 
 the call continues loud and long. These people want 
 the blessings we have. Sitting in the shade from 
 the heat of the Syrian sun I talked with my friend 
 Joe Jabes, an Arab from the far-away Hills of Hau- 
 ran. As the soft light of his deep brown eyes fell 
 on me, he spoke the call of the heart of Palestine and 
 Syria: "We no want our Religion man; we want 
 America Religion man. Our Religion man tell us to 
 hate one another : America Religion man tell us God 
 is our Father and we are brothers and must love one 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 259 
 
 another. America help weak and suffering. We 
 want America." 
 
 If the Church of Christ in America hears this call 
 and answers it, we can lift up this stricken land 
 from which came all our hope, and bring those peo- 
 ple into the heritage that is ours. Then the Master, 
 who spoke all our words of life in that land, will say 
 what once he said over there, "Inasmuch as ye have 
 done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye 
 have done it unto me." Failing in this, what will 
 He say? 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 MOTORING OVER HOLY HILLS. 
 
 (1921) 
 
 We were happy to sight land and to know the 
 end of our journey was near. For three weeks 
 the ship had been our home and we were land hun- 
 gry. We sailed along the course Columbus sailed 
 over the trackless, uncharted seas, looking for land. 
 Some man spoke up and called him the greatest 
 far-seeing prophet of the century but as I thought 
 over it all, he seemed to be the greatest Nut to try 
 a trick like that. 
 
 The Syrian hills gave us a welcome as they 
 stood there in the twilight glow as our ship dropt 
 anchor and we faced the rabble and the scramble 
 that comes when you disembark in an Eastern port. 
 There is nothing like it in the world. You hear 
 the shouting and see the commotion long months 
 after it is over. 
 
 I found George Jallouk our trusted dragoman of 
 the past and we were soon in his boat pushing for 
 the shore. The war told on George and he bore 
 the marks of hardship. True gentleman, good 
 friend, the best guide, is George Jallouk. He took 
 us to the hotel, which we found to be a delight sit- 
 ting in its Oriental charm, hard by the tide washed 
 shore, in sight of the lofty Lebanons. Beyrout has 
 a charm that was wonderful. It is the seat of the 
 American University, one of the greatest institu- 
 tions in foreign lands. Here also is the place where 
 St. George slew the dragon. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 261 
 
 Bro. Welch was wild when he hit the ground. He 
 kicked up his heels, gave a snort and started. In 
 a minute, he was drinking some sort of home brew 
 peddled out by a street vender, who sold it out of 
 something that looked like a skin of a yellow dog. 
 But when a hill billy has been jailed on a boat for 
 three weeks, he will do most anything. 
 
 After a delightful night, supper in the court rest 
 on good beds, with Oriental music and sounds about 
 us, we started toward the Lebanons in autos. What 
 an experience! Motoring over the Holy Hills! We 
 climbed the mountains amid scenes wonderful and 
 fascinating to Baalbek where we spent the night. 
 We found no place more charming. The finest fruits 
 and the grand old ruins, and a homelike hotel with 
 rooms opening into the Court where we ate. We 
 had a table to ourselves, thanked God for our food, 
 as we always did, and had a good time. 
 
 I was retiring when there came a knock at my 
 door. The proprietor was there saying a Moham- 
 medan woman wanted to see me. I found in the 
 Court a spooky figure, heavily draped in dirty black. 
 I could see neither nose, finger, ear or toe. I sup- 
 posed it was a woman. I asked the proprietor to 
 ask what she wanted. She said a member of our 
 party came to her home in the afternoon entered 
 the yard where she was baking bread and ate some 
 with her. When he departed he invited her to the 
 hotel to see us that night and she was here. I asked 
 her to describe him and she indicated he was a long 
 tall gentleman for she stretched her hands up and 
 down as far apart as she could. I knew at once 
 
262 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Welch was the culprit and called him forth to face 
 the music and receive his Mohammedan lady caller. 
 
 The preacher was informed he had committed a 
 grave offense in entering the private quarters of a 
 Mohammedan woman and in the eyes of her tribes- 
 men, it might be considered cause for mobbing us. 
 Such things had led to war and massacre. We were 
 pictured held as prisoners by superstitious moslems 
 until our country could discuss our case in Congress 
 and come to our relief if we were not killed before 
 help could reach us. And to eat bread with a per- 
 son forever binds you to them by the law of friend- 
 ship in the East. Whatever they demanded after 
 that, must be done. 
 
 The preacher was pale and looked like he was 
 listening to the bishop read his appointment. At 
 last I suggested to him a good gift of back-shish 
 might mend matters and he gladly emptied his sur- 
 plus change in the hand of the black-robed black- 
 mailer, who went away satisfied. Welch drew a sigh 
 of relief when we got out of that town without any 
 aftermath. 
 
 We left Baalbek for Damascus early in the morn- 
 ing and rode swiftly down the rich and historic Baca 
 Valley. We expected to reach this oldest city of the 
 world ere noon rolled in. But alas the plans of 
 mice and men got oft awry when you figure on cats 
 and cars. I have never been in love with gasoline. 
 I detest the way it smells and the way it sells. 
 Motoring over the ancient caravan paths of the East 
 upsetting the equilibrium of stately camels, kingly 
 billy-goats and demure asses is out of place. It 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 263 
 
 seems sacriligious to see Fords hooting and tooting 
 along the roads where Rebecca leaped from her 
 camel to meet the timid Isaac. I have never known 
 why Isaac wept. Perhaps because he was afraid 
 she would break her neck in her haste to meet him 
 or maybe because he knew he was caught at last. 
 But I have missed the path in the Ford. 
 
 We started buoyant and full of life with spirits 
 keen and faces clean. We didn't get there that way. 
 All went well until it didn't. There was an explosion 
 of air and Arabic. The car stopped and the Arabs 
 got out. One fellow with a fez and big pants raised 
 the flap and looked in Mr. Ford's right lung, while 
 another took the blood pressure. A number of loaf- 
 ers nearby came up, looked on and said things. One 
 said "mofish benzine", which meant, "are you 
 out of gasoline." We were! 
 
 I have never seen anything more impressive than 
 these Arabs, driving Fords over these Syrian hills, 
 snorting, staving thru caravans of loaded camels, 
 droves of plodding donkeys and hundreds of sheep 
 and goats. I have never seen anything more thrill 
 ing and exciting. They did not slacken speed or 
 give quarter. With a hoot and a toot, they went 
 straight on into the solid mass of animals, men and 
 cargo, leaving them to get out of the way or take 
 the result. I shut my eyes and stopped my ears 
 to keep out the tragedy. Such excitement among 
 goats, camels, sheep and shepherds, I have never 
 seen. Billy-goats and slow donkeys climbed up 
 banks; loaded camels leaped from the road falling* 
 down and bellowing, while the men said things. I 
 
204 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 expected to be shot and mobbed but they seemed to 
 think we had right of way. 
 
 We made the trip without accident save several 
 times turning animals around and starting them 
 back the other way and bringing with us hair and 
 wool on our fenders for souvenirs. My, I wish I 
 could have been in the first auto that went thru 
 that country! 
 
 The camel and ass resent the coming of the auto. 
 It upsets their oriental poise. The billy-goat also 
 shows his contempt. They protest at being upset 
 and driven from the caravan paths their sires have 
 gone with stately tread for centuries. But the auto 
 seems there to stay. Where ancient priests burnt 
 incense in the Ark of the Covenant, they now burn 
 gasoline in Fords. The Shah of Persia is dicker- 
 ing for a Ford and will rig it up with Oriental 
 splendor. King Fiesal already has his. Sheiks and 
 shepherds are after them as the East and the West 
 are meeting together. 
 
 Who would ever tire of Damascus? Not if you 
 are interested in folks with eternal variety and sur- 
 passing mixture. We had two extra days and we 
 spent them in Damascus. I am sure no one was 
 sorry. Our Hotel, the Damascus Palace, was in 
 the heart of things. A Mohammedan Mosque was 
 on each side of the hotel. One minaret rose hardby 
 the window where Rev. A. L. Stanford slept. Five 
 times a day the Muezzin climbed up there and gave 
 forth his weird call to prayer. Stanford gets his 
 best sleep at the very time the Mohammedan sends 
 forth their first morning call, as it penetrates and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 265 
 
 shivers over the world. This Presiding Elder had 
 a voice like a Bishop and he stood in ten feet of 
 Stanford's bed. Now Stanford is a fine fellow and 
 splendid preacher but he does not like some things. 
 What he thinks of Muezzins who bawl at 4 :30 A. M. 
 and of Samaritans in Shechen is not at all in keep- 
 ing with the General Rules. There was nothing on 
 the whole tour richer than the way these two divines 
 Rt. Rev. Muezzin and Rev. A. L. Stanford exchanged 
 glances and compliments at the time of morning 
 and evening prayers. Stanford did not appreciate 
 the rare privilege of having a minaret at your win- 
 dow and a private priest to tell you when to get 
 up and say your prayers. 
 
 All about us were the bazaars. They are the joy of 
 a woman's heart and the sorrow of a man's pocket 
 book. The merchants sit on the floor on their 
 feet in Eastern style with a great display of goods 
 about them. It seems impossible to pack so much 
 stuff in such a compass. A store the size of a state- 
 room will be a regular department store. There 
 seems to be no end to the articles both in quality 
 and quantity. One man usually sells one thing but 
 you never know what the man next door will have. 
 The finest silks will be hardby a store full of stink- 
 ing cheese that must have been old when Nero fiddled 
 over Rome. Saddles and brass, macaroni and wine, 
 rugs and rags and everything in endless array and 
 display are before you. No man could describe it. 
 To trade with these fellows is rare past time and if 
 you know how to do it, you can carry good bar- 
 gains home. 
 
266 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 One of the most interesting experiences in this 
 city was buying some Persian rugs from a rug deal- 
 er. Four of us desired to take such rare trophies 
 home to our wives and we set out to buy them. 
 We found a boy, who was a good interpreter and 
 located the rugs we wanted. It takes much dicker- 
 ing to drive a bargain. The rugs we selected were 
 gems and rare and costly at home. He wanted 
 $80.00, each of them. We offered him $25.00. He 
 became incensed, put them up, spat, stamped and 
 laughed. For a part of the two days, the trade was 
 in soak. He came down to $40.00, and we stuck to 
 our first offer. It seemed our bargain was doomed, 
 but I felt in the last test he would fall. We got 
 what he c- aimed by his Holy Shrines was his last 
 and lowest price, and we departed to another rug 
 man nearby. We selected some from his lot and 
 started a deal when the first man came to us and 
 whispered, he would take our price. 
 
 We left Damascus early in the morning. Our host 
 was at the station, telling us goodbye. The train 
 went out on the rich fields and plains, passing thou- 
 sands of camels, donkeys, sheep and goats. I never 
 saw so many in one day. They were grazing on the 
 plains after the crops were harvested. The owners 
 are not too friendly and great care must be used in 
 dealing with them. When an animal got on the 
 track, the engineer stopped with all haste, almost 
 throwing us on our heads, but this was better than 
 hurting a billy-goat. The car of the Governor was 
 fired on some davs before and the bridge over the 
 Yarmouth near Galilee had been burned down. This 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 267 
 
 was the nearest to a danger zone we had come but 
 we went thru to Lake Galilee without trouble. 
 
 We visited Jericho, the Dead Sea and the Jordan 
 in autos this time in order to hurry out of the heated 
 zone back to the good air of Jerusalem. Of course, 
 we took a bath in the Dead Sea. Everything was 
 progressing well, when we heard a pitiable wail and 
 a loud call for help. Bro. Welch had drifted far 
 from the shore and said he was caught in a current 
 that was swiftly bearing him to the Moab shore. 
 I pictured the sad sight of the poor fellow, being 
 beaten and held a prisoner in his present plight until 
 we could form a rescue party and go after him, tak- 
 in sufficient dry goods and notions to induct him 
 again into civilization. 
 
 Frank McKenny went swimming to his rescue, 
 but made the sad mistake of approaching f ootwards 
 rather than headwards. His long feet were churn- 
 ing the water like the old-mill wheels and he was 
 kicking like the mule Maud. He beat Frank 
 under the water and pounded him without mercy, 
 and to have your head put under the Dead Sea 
 water is not as pleasant as eating Charlotte Russe 
 But Frank flanked him and hove him in. He went 
 swimming with his burden up in front of an Arab 
 hut when all the inmates came forth in loud and 
 explosive protest. They didn't propose to be dis- 
 graced by having any such derelict wreck drift up 
 at their front door. 
 
 This second visit to the Holy Hills was greater 
 to me than the first. It was a great privilege to 
 stand on these Holy places where the Bible stories 
 
268 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 and truths were born and read the record from the 
 book. Every morning when the day was dawning, 
 I stole forth with my Bible. One morning, I sat on 
 a rock half way between Jerusalem and Bethlehem, 
 and as I read, I tried to picture the scenes. I saw 
 the Wise Men following the Star to the manger in 
 Bethlehem. I saw Solomon ride his royal chariots, 
 and David lead his army down that road. There 
 Rachel, whom Jacob loved, drifted out into the 
 other world as little Benjamin came into this one. 
 I heard the angel choirs sing on the plains while a 
 lost earth listened to the first Christmas Carol. I 
 looked back at the Holy City, sitting on the hill in 
 the glow of the rising sun and as I read of her past 
 glories, I could see the pictures before me. 
 
 Then I looked behind me far over into the deso- 
 late solitudes of the Judean Wilderness while I read 
 of David fleeing from Saul. Here he was hunted, 
 hiding alone away from home and friends, but he 
 was not alone nor discouraged. God was with him 
 and while in the lonely wilderness, he gave us some 
 of our sweetest music. It was down here one night 
 all alone, he looked into the shining stars of that 
 Syrian sky and tuned his sharp to sing, "The Heav- 
 ens declare the Glory of God and the firmament 
 showeth His handiwork. Day unto day uttered 
 speech and night unto night showeth knowledge. 
 There is no speech where their voice is not heard." 
 And down here all alone, and hunted by his enemies, 
 he burst forth into glorious song, and striking the 
 chords of his harp, he gave the world its greatest 
 gem of literature the Twenty-Third Psalm. To 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 262 
 
 sit here and read these two Psalms is worth the 
 trip over the ocean. 
 
 The next morning by sunrise, I stood at the foot 
 of Calvary, reading the account of the crucifixion 
 as I looked upon that skull shaped hill outside of 
 the city wall. Then I followed the venturesome Dr. 
 Squires in an adventure few people have ever ac- 
 complished. We climbed the steep slopes of Cal- 
 vary and stood with bared heads and solemn hearts 
 on the spot where the cross was raised when the 
 Lord was crucified to save the world. Here was the 
 very spot where his blood ran out on the ground. It 
 was easy to picture the scene of the disciples and 
 the multitudes on the surrounding slopes, watching 
 the greatest sacrifice ever made in the history of 
 the world. I have never experienced anything like 
 that visit to Calvary and I came down almost over- 
 come, humming, 
 
 "There is a Fountain filled with blood, 
 Drawn from ImmanuePs veins, 
 And sinners plunged beneath that flood, 
 Lose all their guilty stain." 
 
 On top of Mt. Calvary we saw a strange and 
 gruesome relic of a brutal battle lost. It was an 
 old rusty German cannon made in the Krupp fac- 
 tory in Germany. The Turks have always had a 
 superstitious reverance for Calvary and would not 
 let others tread on its ground. But when their 
 German comrades came to the defence of the Holy 
 City, they who had no respect for sacred treaties 
 
270 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 and life and virture of course had no reverance for 
 Calvary. So they fortified Mount Calvary with their 
 guns. The Turks were driven out and the Huns 
 fell but in the retreat this relic was left, where it 
 stands and rusts, a strange reminder of the brutality 
 and barbarism of Prusianism defeated and corod- 
 ing away on the very spot where the blood of Jesus 
 ran out to save a lost world. The Prince of Peace 
 has triumphed over Prusianism. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 STORY OF THE LOST BIBLE. 
 
 On July 16, 1914, I visited Cana in Galilee. About 
 the village fountain the natives were gathered 
 watching us. Leaving our carriage we visited the 
 spot pointed out as the place where the Saviour per- 
 formed His first miracle, when at the wedding "the 
 water saw its Lord and blushed." 
 
 When we returned to the carriages my Bible, 
 which I had left on the seat, was gone. My heart 
 was sad, for I loved this Book of mine. With it in 
 my hand I had walked the Holy Hills, reading from 
 the Divine record what transpired upon the very 
 place before my eyes. It was one of the greatest 
 blessings of my life. I had made valuable notes in 
 the margin which I felt would be of untold value 
 when I got home. Then the Bible was a much prized 
 gift from dear friends, and through many months 
 had been my constant companion of comfort and 
 cheer. 
 
 Of course I felt some little Turk had stolen it 
 and I would never hear of it again. With a sad 
 heart I proceeded over the hills the Master traveled, 
 on by the Horns of Hattin down to the blue waters 
 of Galilee. 
 
 On March 1st, 1920, when the mail-man handed 
 in my mail my eye fell on a strange foreign look- 
 ing envelope. I saw it was a Turkish stamp and 
 was posted in Nazareth, Palestine. I eagerly opened 
 it and read: 
 
272 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 "Kerf-Cana, Galilee, Palestine, January 8, 1920. 
 To the Pastor of Thomas Chapel, 
 
 Cartersville, Va. 
 Dear sir: 
 
 On September 26, 1914, I bought from a Turk 
 who happened to pass, an English Bible, in which is 
 the following inscription, "Presented to Jos. M. 
 Rowland of the Virginia Conference by the Sunday 
 School of Thomas' Chapel, Cartersville, Va., Christ- 
 mas, 1906." 
 
 Owing to the world's war I was unable to write 
 and if the above mentioned Mr. Rowland is still liv- 
 ing and desires his Bible I will be glad to return it 
 to him, if you will kindly get in touch with him, 
 if he has changed his address. 
 Awaiting his instructions and reply, I am 
 Yours truly, 
 MISS MONEERA F. SAFFROURY." 
 
 My heart was thrilled with this message from far 
 off Galilee. Who was this person who had bought 
 my Bible and kept it as a sacred trust to return to 
 me, while for nearly six years war and famine swept 
 about her and her people? I was strongly impressed 
 with the feeling that God was bringing in this pecu- 
 liar way our two lives together. Far off yonder 
 in that little village where Jesus attended the wed- 
 ding with his mother, lived a woman or girl who 
 held my Bible for over five years waiting to send 
 it to me. I wondered who she was living there in 
 the land I loved. Was she a girl or an old woman? 
 Was she a Jew, Catholic or Mohammedan? Per- 
 haps she was a mission teacher there. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 273 
 
 I wrote her at once, enclosing a check for $10.00 
 as a gift in appreciation of her fidelity. I requested 
 her to write me about herself, her people and her 
 land, giving any information she liked about condi- 
 tions there and how they fared during the war and 
 since. I told her we were greatly interested in the 
 land and people there. I asked if she was a Chris- 
 tian and connected with the mission in Nazareth. 
 I gave opportunity for her to trust me as a friend 
 and confide in me as such. 
 
 On May 25th, 1920, I received an answer posted 
 in Jerusalem and dated April 4th. It reads as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 "Dear Sir: 
 
 Ever so many thanks for your kind gift enclosed 
 with your most interesting letter received yeserday. 
 I am a young girl of 17, born and brought up in 
 the village of Cana. My parents sent me to school 
 in a town called Safel, beyond Tiberias. There I 
 stayed three years where I learned English. When 
 the war broke out the school had to be closed as it 
 was English and I had to go back to Cana. You can- 
 not imagine how sad I was to leave. I had to go 
 back to Cana and stay all during the war. 
 
 It was a very miserable life we had to go through. 
 I have one sister, two years older and a brother 
 four years younger. My sister was also in school with 
 me, and both of us had to stay together at my 
 parents. Our little family is the only Protestant 
 one in Cana connected with the C. M. S. at Nazareth 
 (a mission of the Episcopal church of Enland.) 
 
274 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 There is a very kind Syrian minister at Nazareth 
 who used to come to Cana for a service and give 
 us communion during the war. He had to come 
 walking every time as no cars or horses could be 
 found, as the Government took them all. Sister 
 and I were not confirmed and did not take the com- 
 munion. As soon as the war was over the Bishop 
 of Jerusalem came to Nazareth and confirmed a 
 number of boys and girls with whom we were also 
 confirmed. 
 
 You wish me to relate about the war, through 
 which we had to go. It was a very miserable time 
 under the Turkish tyranny that I don't like to rem- 
 ember it again. My father who was about fifty years 
 old, was obliged to serve as a Turkish soldier. The 
 first and second year they accepted fifty pounds 
 (equal to about $200) for any who wished to pay 
 instead of a year's service. So my father paid one 
 hundred pounds for the two years. The third year 
 they would not accept any money and forced every 
 man to join the army. My father had to go then. 
 
 Every thing was dear and scarcely found. We 
 spent all our money during that dreadful war. I 
 do thank God it is over now and hope we will have 
 a better time now under the British rule, though 
 things are still dear as before. I cannot tell you how 
 great was our joy to see the British army. It was 
 on October 20th when they came to Cana. You 
 would have heard about all that in the newspapers. 
 
 The first Enlish Military Governor of Nazareth 
 was a very kind one. He gave my sister work as 
 a teacher at Cana for 5 pounds a month (equal to 
 
; TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 275 
 
 about $20). Of course the fee was very bad but 
 it was the only work she could get. The English 
 mistress of our school at Safel came to Jerusalem 
 to teach in the British High School. She wrote and 
 asked if I would go there to finish my schooling, 
 as it is the highest school in all Palestine. Sorry 
 to say I couldn't as the fees were too much and we 
 had no money. My sister saved money until she got 
 enough for half a year fees for the school and sent 
 me. I have been here two months. Examinations 
 were held March 14th. I was so pleased, I passed 
 it all. 
 
 After that we had Easter Holiday for a fortnight. 
 The first week we spent very nice with walks and 
 so on. The first day all the girls went out for a 
 long walk to the Tombs of the Judges, which no 
 doubt you would have visited when you came to 
 Jerusalem. On March 31st in the evening the Lord's 
 Supper was served as usual at the Arabic Church 
 and all the big girls which were confirmed went 
 with the school mistress to take it. I was, of course, 
 one of them. 
 
 After it was over we went on a long walk in 
 the beautiful moonlight to Gethsemane. A lovely 
 sermon was preached there that made all the people 
 drop tears. We sang several hymns also of which 
 "Jesus Lover," was one. I can't tell you what strong 
 feelings I had to think I was in the same place where 
 my Lord spent that terrible eve of agony for my 
 sake. 
 
 Yes, I count myself lucky to be in the land where 
 Christ lived. I sincerely hope you will come next 
 
276 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 year and I will be most delighted to see and meet 
 such a gentle and nice friend as you are. 
 
 Well, to finish about the news of Jerusalem. The 
 next week of our holiday we spent very bad as a 
 great trouble arose between Moslems and Jews, and 
 even a fight. Lots of them were killed on both 
 sides. Thank God it did not last long for many 
 soldiers were brought and scattered here and there 
 and airplanes stayed two days hovering down the 
 town to see that was right. 
 
 Now I have written a too long letter and told 
 you all about myself and people. Sorry I haven't 
 any of my photos here but will promise that as soon 
 as I get one from home will post it to you. I will 
 soon be going back to Cana for the long holidays 
 so you better answer me if you like at my address 
 there as you did the first time. 
 
 I wonder if I will be able to come back here next 
 year to finish my schooling to learn typing, shorthand 
 and French. I do not know if I can get money 
 enough. Of course I will keep the money you sent 
 me and see if I can get any more enuogh for it. 
 I do thank you heartily for it. I trust God will 
 manage as He did this year. I wish I could find 
 somebody who would pay for me and as soon as I 
 finish my education and get work will pay him back. 
 I wish you could help me, Sir. 
 
 I am enclosing you here a frame of my needle- 
 work lace which I trust would be interesting to 
 keep as souvenir of Palestine. I will write and tell 
 my sister to post you your Bible as I left it at home 
 at Cana. I will come to the end of my long story, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 277 
 
 wishing you all the joy of this world and the best 
 of luck. 
 
 Thanking you again for your kind gift, I remain, 
 Yours Sincerely, 
 MONEERA F. SAFFOURY." 
 and then, true woman that she is she adds a 
 
 P. S. I bought your Bible from a Mohammedan, 
 as you will see written on it when you get it. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DINING IN GALILEE. 
 
 In my second visit to Palestine in 1921, I looked 
 forward with keen anticipation to a visit to the 
 home of some friends in little Cana of Gallee. 
 
 It was the home of Moneera Saffoury, the little 
 girl who recovered my stolen Bible in 1914. She 
 bought the book from a Turk, who stole it from 
 the carriage. She kept it until the war was over 
 and she could send it to me. This started a corres- 
 pendence that led me with the assistance of friends 
 to undertake the education of Moneera, who has 
 a passion and a call for mission work in this land 
 from which our Gospel comes. She believes the beau- 
 tiful story I have already published about it is the 
 working of our Father's hand bringing friends to 
 her in answer to her many prayers, and she believes 
 it no more than the one who writes the story. 
 
 When I found I was coming again to Palestine 
 I wrote Moneera I would certainly visit her home 
 as I passed through Cana. She answered at once, 
 extending a warm invitation with all the warm 
 Oriental hospitality, seconded by all the members 
 of the family. I must come and bring all members 
 of the party and we must not spend a few minutes 
 but stay at least a day and a night. This stirred 
 my heart, for I longed for such a visit as this, and 
 having never dined in an Eastern private home, I 
 longed for the time to come. The providential man- 
 ner of our acquaintance and the interest I had in 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 279 
 
 the future of this girl added to the interest of this 
 looked-for visit. 
 
 It was in the early morning light of July 28 
 when our carriage climbed the hills from the hotel 
 on the shore of Lake Galilee. How powerless is 
 the hand of man to write of the glories of these 
 hills as the light of a new day shone on them. We 
 looked down on the historic waters and the shores 
 on which moved so much of the gospel life, and 
 tried to see the pictures as they were in the days 
 of Jesus. We paused at the Horns of Hattin long 
 enough to read the sermon on the Mount, where it 
 was preached. Then over a good road being built 
 by the Jewish immigrants, we jogged at a good 
 rate in sight of Mount Tabor around to the edge 
 of little Cana. 
 
 The folks had been looking for us for two days. 
 I had to change our plans in Damascus, and could 
 not advise them we would be two days late. All 
 their hearts were beating with the highest anxiety 
 as they put the big pot in the little one, dressed a 
 kid and watched down the road toward the lake 
 for a cloud of dust that would herald our coming. 
 Of course, it is not good to keep ladies waiting a 
 meal two minutes, not to say for two days. As 
 anxious as they were, they could not have been 
 ahead of me very much, for in all my life they have 
 not had to do much waiting when they wanted 
 eating done. I am there waiting. But' to keep 
 these folks waiting and wondering for two days 
 must have been hard on them. 
 
 At last our carriage swung around a hill into a 
 
280 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 grove of figs and olives, and we were in the gates of 
 Cana. Here a great surprise awaited me, for the 
 girls had published to the inhabitants that distin- 
 guished visitors were coming, and a large number 
 of folks turned out to greet us. As I alighted from 
 my carriage, trying to catch the manner of Oriental 
 salutation and tell the folks how glad I was to come 
 to town, I felt the governor, when he came, had 
 nothing on me. 
 
 After bowing and scraping and going through 
 other bodily forms of greetings, I located Moneera 
 (from her photo) as she stood almost breathless 
 with excitement and timidity among the folks. I 
 took her hand and bringing her forth presented her 
 to the members of our party. She led the way down 
 the little street to their home. We saw the church 
 on the supposed site of the Master's first miracle- 
 and I was thinking as we walked that somewhere 
 nearby Nathaniel sat under the fig tree when Jesus 
 called him out into the light and called him the guile- 
 less one. 
 
 The Saffoury home from without looked like the 
 typical Oriental home. It was built of dingy lime- 
 stone, with flat roof, and walled about. But when 
 we crossed the threshold, looked on the interior and 
 saw what marvels the tender touch of woman's 
 hands can do for the inside of things, our hearts 
 were warmed. For a month we had not seen inside 
 of a home, and we felt a thrill at seeing this one. 
 We felt like giving three sheers for woman and" 
 joining in the toast of old, "Woman, God bless her, 
 we can't get along without her, and we can't get 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 281 
 
 along with her." But we do not want to be where 
 her refining soul and tender touch comes not. 
 
 It was a cozy, cheerful home, with nice handiwork, 
 carpets and pictures. Mother Saffoury and Father 
 Saff oury, with other kindred, including an old grand- 
 father, who wore the prophetic looks of Abraham, 
 all bowed low, speaking softly in the Syrian tongue, 
 their age-long welcome and sending forth to God 
 prayers for their guests. As I acknowledged these, 
 I said, "Peace be unto this home," and I remembered 
 I was in the only Protestant Christian home in the 
 whole village. How would you like to be in the only 
 Christian home in a village, with few of the others 
 friendly and sympathetic? 
 
 We spread our lunch we brought from the hotel 
 and it was supplemented by other things our good 
 friends brought. They had at my suggestion brought 
 laces and things for us to buy, and as we lingered 
 here, the time passed far too swiftly. When time 
 came to go, I was told I could not go. Moneera and 
 Kareemy, the sister, and Mother Saffoury said I must 
 remain for the night. It has always been hard to 
 disobey the word of women and I didn't know what 
 to do. We were to spend the night at Nazareth, 
 seven miles away, and I must be there at 5 : 30 in the 
 morning to see that the folks were up, get breakfast 
 at 6 :00 and start on the days journey at 6 :30. When 
 they were told this, they did what woman always 
 does they found a way out. I was told I must re- 
 main here the rest of the afternoon, eat dinner with 
 them and they would see I reached Nazareth by bed- 
 time, and as I always do, obeyed. 
 
282 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 We saw the folks in the carriages at the village 
 well where the girls were filling their water jars 
 and bearing them homewerd on their heads, and as 
 the horses trotted up the road I turned back with the 
 two girls. We passed the village threshing floor 
 where they were threshing wheat as they have done 
 for centuries, by driving cattle over it, and the folks 
 made remarks about us. Being kin to women, and 
 somewhat like them, I wanted to know what they 
 were saying about me and asked the girls. One 
 said, "Look at that American with the teacher. 
 Isn't he handsome." This remark brought great 
 comfort to my heart, and as night wore on helped 
 very much toward crowning the ending of a per- 
 fect day. 
 
 I sat under a fig tree with Moneera and Kareeny 
 and they asked me of America, and spoke with 
 shining eyes of their ambition to live lives of ser- 
 vice for God and His children. Their tender grati- 
 tude for what my friends had done for them was one 
 of the most touching things I ever saw. 
 
 When we reached the home, I found a nice clean 
 bed all ready for me to take my afternoon nap or 
 siesta as they call it. A canopy was drawn over it 
 to keep out the mosquitoes. When the lady, with 
 all the gracious manner of the East, pointed out the 
 bed, I thanked her, but told her I would be ashamed 
 to sleep these precious hours away. I was here to 
 talk, not sleep. I could sleep any time. 
 
 The old grandfather could not talk English, but 
 the girls acted as interpreters. He was a pious seer 
 and gave me more light on some points of the Bible 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 283 
 
 land than all the commentators. He told me of the 
 persecution of his people by the Turks, because they 
 were Christians. His grandfather fled from a mas- 
 sacre the only one who escaped and settled in Cana. 
 I felt like I was sitting at the feet of God's prophet 
 of old. When I left him with tears running down 
 his white beard, he leaned on his staff and prayed 
 the blessing of God to ever rest on me and mine, be- 
 cause of what I had been for them. 
 
 When supper was announced, I could not prevail 
 on the others to eat with me. They seated me at the 
 table and five women served me. The King at Buck- 
 ingham Palace, when Princess Mary had her wed- 
 ding supper, didn't beat me much. We had seven 
 courses, and no better meal ever faced me. Soup, 
 chicken and cream potatoes, mutton and rice, pud- 
 ding, goat clabber, fresh milk, cheese, coffee, figs, 
 grapes and nuts, came and went before me as I sat 
 there like a presiding elder down in Southampton at 
 the third quarterly conference, with all-day meeting 
 and dinner on the ground. What could make the 
 soul of a Methodist preacher glow like a meal like 
 this, with five women waiting on him? In the house, 
 at the door and windows, crowds of Mohammendans 
 had come to watch the circus with open eyes and 
 mouths. It was the first time they ever saw a 
 Methodist preacher eat and they seemed to find no 
 fault with the way he did it. 
 
 Before our party left the home I read the second 
 chapter of John about the first miracle of the Mas- 
 ter performed nearby and we prayed together. Then 
 the girls recited and sang for us. They sang "Galilee" 
 
284 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 and it seemed to me I never heard it sung with such 
 heavenly sweetness. Then an impulse seized me and 
 I asked Moneera if she would not say a few words 
 to us before we went. I wanted her to tell us about 
 finding my Bible and some of the troubles through 
 which they passed during the war. She began in a 
 timid, hesitating way, but her heart caught fire, and 
 her words seemed to come from God. In a simple 
 way she made one of the most powerful speeches I 
 ever heard. She told us of the clouds of war. Tour- 
 ists ceased to come. Things were scarce and high- 
 One day a Turkish officer came and took their money- 
 The father gave all he had to keep out of the war- 
 Then they came and took him off. There he sat, old 
 and broken from the trials of Turkish trenches and 
 he did not love the Turks any more than we do. Then 
 an officer came and took everything else they had 
 and ordered them not to speak English, write letters, 
 or receive any. She had my Bible and through those 
 awful days they read it while they watched for the 
 officers. Then one day the horrible threat every- 
 woman dreaded worse than death happened. A 
 Turkish officer told them tomorrow they would line 
 up these Christian women and start them off on the 
 long march of deportation to Constantinople, about 
 1,000 miles away. Christian women knew the hor- 
 rible death and things far worse that lay on this road 
 over burning sands, through torture, starvation and 
 abuse. Four million Armenians were driven out on 
 this trail of hades and their bones are bleaching in* 
 the sands. Many of their women now are prisoners 
 in Turkish harmens, with the name of their owners 
 burned in their cheeks with branding irons. 
 
, TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 285 
 
 With tears running down her cheks she pointed 
 out a little room where she and her mother and sister 
 lay on the floor all night praying to the God of all 
 to send some power to stop this horrible calamity. 
 They could not read my Bible, but held it in their 
 hands and wet it with their tears. The night wore 
 on and the day dawned as it always does, no matter 
 how dark the hours and heavy the burdens. But the 
 sunrise brought no hope. The hours wore on until 
 at last they heard a shout and commotion in the 
 streets of Cana. Thinking the officers had come 
 earlier than expected, they looked from the window 
 and flying in the air was the British flag. General 
 Allenby's army, working up from Egypt, piping 
 water as they went, had reached their home and de- 
 liverance had come, just a few hours before the 
 cursed Turks were to start them on the road to their 
 awful doom. God had answered their prayers and 
 deliverance had come to Palestine. Not far from 
 there the British overtook the Turks and captured 
 100,000. When she finished her story, tears were in 
 all eyes and those of us who were there will never get 
 away from the influence of that hour. 
 
 That night I parted with my friends, and mounting 
 a pony with Father Saffoury and a neighbor as com- 
 rades, rode out by the spring up the hill in the glo- 
 rious starlight of the East on the road to Nazareth. 
 Prophets of old and the Savior walked this road. 
 The stars nowhere seem so bright as here. I could 
 not talk to my comrades. We did not know the same 
 lip language, but our hearts understood what the 
 other thought. I was sorry when the gleaming lights 
 
286 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 of Nazareth shone before me and that wonderful ride 
 was ended. I told my friends good-bye at the hotel 
 door and joined the party at the end of a perfect day. 
 One word more to any friend who reads this story, 
 Moneera is in school in Jerusalem. She has made a 
 fine record there. She finishes the work next year 
 at this British college. I will bring her to this 
 country to finish her preparation for mission work 
 in her home country. The brother is also in school 
 there. I am standing by them. With what I can 
 contribute and receive from friends, I have faith in 
 God to believe I can see them through. If any one 
 who reads this feels moved to have a part in this 
 fine deed, I will be glad to receive the contribution. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN JERUSALEM. 
 
 "Last night I lay a sleeping there came a dream so 
 fair, 
 
 I stood in Old Jerusalem beside the temple there ; 
 
 I heard the children singing and ever as they sang 
 
 Me thought the voice of angels from heaven in an- 
 swer rang. 
 
 Jerusalem! Jerusalem! 
 
 Lift up your gates and sing 
 Hozanna in the highest, 
 
 Hozanna to your king. 
 Jerusalem! Jerusalem 
 
 Sing for the night is o'er, 
 Hozanna in the highest 
 
 Hozanna forever more." 
 
 This great strain of music, one of the grandest 
 ever tuned to song ran through my soul with thrill- 
 ing force as we made our way to the Fast Hotel 
 near the Joppa Gate, where our home would be 
 while in the Holy City. We found the hotel clean 
 and comfortable and the fare good. Brother Wil- 
 liams and myself were conducted to our rooms, 
 where as we always did at such times we sought 
 our mail. What matters dusty clothes, dirty faces 
 and uncombed hair when far away from home with 
 no word for many days, your mail is placed in your 
 hands! Even the charms of Jerusalem were put 
 
288 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 aside. How good it was again to get messages from 
 loved ones and friends and know their prayers were 
 following us! How pleasant was the sight of a 
 Virginia newspaper even though its date line was 
 nearly a month behind the date ! 
 
 We took a short walk out into the streets after 
 supper but soon returned to get off some mail, and 
 spend the hours till bed time meditating and read- 
 ing from our Bibles, the portion relating to Jerusa- 
 lem. What a privilege to sit here in Jerusalem and 
 read these things from the Bible on the ground 
 where they happened? We knelt by our beds and 
 thanked God for blessing us with this cherished 
 privilege, and then we tried to sleep. But who could 
 sleep on their first night in Jerusalem? How pic- 
 tures arose before our minds ! How the mellow voice 
 of Israel's singing Shepherd rang in our souls ! How 
 strange things climbed the steps of memeory and 
 knocked at the door of our hearts and pulled the 
 latch strings with all their might! Why, right on 
 this spot the Wise Men came enquiring of the Holy 
 Child; here David and Solomon ruled; here Jesus 
 walked and talked and died. Who could sleep when 
 such history of many centuries clamored for atten- 
 tion? We went to our window and looked out on 
 the city with its flat top houses, and down on the 
 white road that wound like a ribbon from over the 
 hills of Dan into the Joppa Gate. Caravans of stately 
 camels with measured tread and unlifted solemn 
 heads were coming into the city with the products 
 of the land, just as they had been doing since the 
 world was young. All night long we heard the jin- 
 
Climbing the Great Pyramid in Egypt. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 289 
 
 gle of their bells and the call of their drivers under 
 our window. 
 
 We were up early the following morning with a 
 mind and heart to see Jerusalem, and after our 
 breakfast of cold bread, butter and coffee, we set 
 out to see the Holy City. Is there in all the world 
 any city like it? In classifying the cities must we 
 not put it in a list all alone? Other cities belong to 
 empires and kingdoms, Jerusalem belongs to the 
 world. Other cities belong to certain races, Jerusa- 
 lem belongs to the human race. Other cities have 
 shrines for certain faiths, Jerusalem is the Holy 
 City for all. The Jew loves it, sings his home-sick 
 songs about it in exile far and wide; speaks it with 
 accents of devotion and when he comes to it weeps 
 over it like the Savior did whom his people re- 
 jected as their Lord. The Mohammedan often 
 spends all his means and strength and gives his 
 life in his effort to make long pilgrimages to behold 
 its sacred scenes and worship at its shrines. The 
 Armenian, Abasynians and Copts count it the 
 greatest joy in their lives to pass beyond its walls. 
 The Catholics, both Greek and Roman, have so 
 adored it that they bow down in worship to its em- 
 blems and objects. Far and wide the hearts of 
 Protestant Christians have brought them here to sit 
 upon the ashes of its former glory and call up before 
 them visions of things dear to their souls. It is even 
 used as a type of heaven. Jerualem gains this dis- 
 tinct place in history because it was the city where 
 heaven and earth touched, and the spot where the 
 life of God and the blood of man met together in 
 
290 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the body of Christ in the greatest sacrifice tiistory 
 ever knew. Thus the world was forever linked to 
 the throne of God with a golden chain of Eternal 
 Love sealed with the Blood of Christ. 
 
 The history of Jerusalem runs far back in the 
 beginnings and loses its trail in the shadows far 
 away. The name is a combination of Jebus and 
 Salem. It is supposed to have been founded by 
 Jebus, the son of Canaan, who was Noah's grand- 
 son and for a long time bore his name. Then it 
 took the name of Salem and that mysterious charac- 
 ter, Melchizedek, was its king. Its first name sign- 
 fied "trodden down" and Salem meant "City of 
 Peace." Well do these names blend in Jerusalem, 
 for while it stands for peace it has been trodden 
 down as no city on earth. It has been beseiged 
 twenty-seven times and in and about its walls rivers 
 of blood -have flown. No city ever founded has ex- 
 perienced so many unspeakable horrors as the pas- 
 sion of the nations inflamed with the fires of hate 
 have charged about its walls. 
 
 Our hotel was just outside the Joppa Gate so na- 
 turally our first steps would be through this historic 
 gate into the city proper. In the big gate we saw the 
 little one called "the needle's eye" which was open 
 for footmen when the big gate was closed to traffic. 
 Some have thought this is what Jesus meant when he 
 said it was easier for a camel to go through the eye 
 of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom 
 of heaven. A camel could squeeze through this lit- 
 tle gate if he removed all his baggage and got down 
 on his knees. So if the rich man does that he can 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 291 
 
 enter the gate of the Kingdom. Traders and beg- 
 gars in abundance were at the gate waiting for us. 
 We halted only a moment as we were out for other 
 things and would go shopping later. We did return 
 to look over the goods and make purchases. 
 
 We visited Mt. Zion, the portion of the city occu- 
 pied by David as his headquarters. Zion means 
 "sunny" and this point being the highest ground in 
 the city, was full of light and sunshine, thus well- 
 suited for the fortified home of King David. Near 
 here stands the Tower of David. It is an old castle 
 whose history is in doubt and it is now used for 
 barracks for soldiers. The walls of the city 
 at this point show clearly three eras of building, 
 Hebrew, Roman and Modern. We then passed 
 down David Street and Christian Street, two promi- 
 nent streets of the city. They are like all streets, 
 very narrow and crowded with venders, beggars, 
 tourists, camels and donkeys. 
 
 Our next visit was to the Church of the Holy Sep- 
 ulchre, one of the far-famed shrines of the world. 
 It is not my purpose to say much about this church. 
 It may seem gross sacrilege to those who count it 
 the most sacred spot of all earth and would die 
 to stand on its holy ground, but I must say I took 
 little interest in it. I came to Palestine determined 
 not to deal in question marks of faith-destroying 
 criticism. My eyes and ears were not to give their 
 precious time to those places and things that mar 
 and spoil and stain the real life and meaning of the 
 Holy Land and its glorious history. I would look 
 beyond the spoils and desecrators of the Temple and 
 
292 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the Tabernacle. I would throw the ashes aside to 
 find the buried gold. I would look beyond the clouds 
 to the sun that shone in light and life, and above 
 the growl and grumble of fanatics and dirty beg- 
 gars' empty hands. I would hear the voice of God 
 speaking and see the bleeding hands of Christ. So 
 the shams and lies bothered me not. The fact that 
 they grouped in this church all the world's history 
 was no concern of mine. I saw Adam's grave and 
 his skull, the real cross on which Jesus died, the 
 rock on which his body rested, his tomb and all his 
 history. Here in a dark church are many candles 
 in golden candle sticks burned, casting solemn rays 
 on gold and silver crosses and altars whose glitter 
 and profusion might bemuddle a cardinal; but be- 
 yond all this prison, I looked to the hills where Je- 
 sus lived the outdoor life and died the outdoor 
 death. There never was any convent dust or mon- 
 astery mildew on the garments of Jesus Christ. 
 There was the smell of the fields on his garments, 
 the dust of the road on his cheeks. The Master was 
 no monk, he was a man ; a manlier man than any of 
 the masters have painted Him or Theologians have 
 pictured Him. His life was in the market place, 
 fields, lake side, high ways and not in dungeons and 
 cloisters, and yet the Catholics have taken every 
 thing sacred they could find, built over it a gloomy, 
 dark old church, sprinkled about it their incense and 
 lighted their pitiful little candles, instead of turn- 
 ing on the sunlight and incense of Nature's sweet 
 atmosphere. I must be excused if I took little in- 
 terest in these prison churches but looked beyond 
 their gloomy walls to the great Outside. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 293 
 
 There is one thing, however, that did impress me 
 about the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It is the 
 joint property of the Greek-Catholics, the Roman- 
 Catholics, the Armenians and Copts. These religious 
 bodies have fought many a bloody battle here on its 
 shrines in jealous rage to control its, altars. The 
 dome was dirty and needed cleaning but they were 
 unable to decide who could be trusted with the work. 
 Every Easter people are killed in their fiendish con- 
 tention about its shrines. The Turks hold the keys 
 and only by their consent can these worshippers get 
 access to their own altars. These Turkish soldiers 
 are ever on guard to see that the devout worshippers 
 do not kill one another! 
 
 We then went through the city to St. Stephen's 
 gate, out of which the enraged crowd thrust the 
 young saint and stoned him to death because he 
 preached the Holy Ghost. Here was the very place 
 where he knelt down under the shower of crushing 
 stones that mangled his body, praying for those 
 who did the deed, committed his spirit into the 
 hands of God, while Jesus stood at the throne of 
 God (at other times He is represented as sitting) to 
 welcome the martyr home, For a long time the gate 
 that was baptized with his blood has borne his name. 
 
 We visited the scene of Pilate's Judgment Hall, 
 where Jesus was tried and condemned to death. A 
 Catholic monastery and orphanage is now on this 
 site. The sisters in charge were very courteous to 
 us, received us kindly and put before us many lit- 
 tle things made by the children. Many of them 
 showed skill and were very attractive. Our party 
 
294 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 gathered in the chapel that is said to be on the spot 
 where Jesus was condemned and scourged, and had 
 a little prayer service. It may seem odd for us to 
 have service in a Catholic church, but we did. We 
 had brass enough to do it without asking permission. 
 Our next move was to leave the city for a visit 
 to the Mount bf Olives. Wonderful, beautiful hill is 
 this Mount of Olives! The finest vision of Jerusa- 
 lem is seen from this hilltop. When Jerusalem was 
 in her glory, sitting as a queen upon her hill there, 
 with the rising sun shining upon the sides of Solo- 
 mon's Temple and all her greatness, it must have 
 been like the city John saw let down from God out 
 of heaven. You can always get better visions from a 
 mountain or elevated place. You feel more in a spirit 
 for seeing and things are more prepared to be seen. 
 What visions do rise up to the soul standing on 
 Olivet! How Jesus loved this hill and how oft He 
 found comfort and communion in the shades of her 
 green olive trees ! There are a great many of these 
 beautiful trees on Olivet now, and in the days of 
 Jesus, when the country was more flourishing than 
 it is now, Olivet must have been covered with olive 
 trees until it presented one of the most charming 
 pictures to be seen anywhere. These trees were 
 His friends. 
 
 "And still they stand above the Holy City 
 A rugged road of hoary-headed trees 
 Among whose boughs the wind with heedless ditty 
 Bloweth from out the far off skies. 
 All thought is here of Him, and fancy sees 
 The love-lit face the nights beneath the trees 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 295 
 
 In prayer for us ; we hide rebellious tears 
 
 And pray that his sweet spirit j 
 
 May guide our faltering years." 
 
 What he thought and the feelings that went 
 through His soul in the days and nights of His re- 
 tirement here, is well worth our pondering. This 
 was the Master's rest room, His study, His retir- 
 ing place. He went over into the city to do His 
 work and face His battles, but down the slope across 
 Kedron and up Olivet He came to the quiet of the 
 olive trees where His soul could find peace and where 
 His Father could speak to Him while the leaves of 
 the trees made soft music to His listening soul. It 
 was from this place, somewhere, when His soul was 
 full to overflowing and His heart full to bursting 
 with Jerusalem's hard-heartedness, he criel out, "O 
 Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! How oft would I have gath- 
 ered thee together as a hen doth gather her chickens 
 under her wings but ye would not." 
 
 Standing on the Mount of Olives, I read this pas- 
 sage from my Bible, and coming down the sides of 
 Olivet we saw a hen spreading her wings about her 
 little brood. 
 
 It was on Olivet or somewhere near the crest 
 where we stood that His holy feet left the earth and 
 He ascended into heaven. Luke says, Luke 24:50,- 
 51 "And 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 He was parted from 
 them and carried up into heaven." It would seem 
 from this He ascended from Bethany as many sup- 
 pose, and yet Olivet Deing so very close to Bethany, 
 
296 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 He could have parted with them at Bethany and 
 coming up Olivet to reach the highest point where 
 the Holy City could be so plainly in view, He 
 mounted on the chariot of God's love up to the gates 
 of heaven. And yet, what doth it matter which 
 theory of the doctors is right? We looked upon the 
 spot where His feet last rested on earth, for it was 
 somewhere near here. It is a wise provision perhaps 
 that the exact spot is not known. The Catholics 
 would cover it with a dark church and sprinkle in- 
 cense over the shadows they cast. Let the spot be 
 unknown. What might crazed fanatics do if thev 
 really knew? 
 
 Looking west from Olivet we saw almost at its 
 base, Bethany, the home of Martha, Mary and Laza- 
 rus, the faithful friends of Jesus, who ever gave 
 him a place in their home for rest and comfort. 
 Near Bethany we could see Bethphage, where the 
 disciples got the ass upon which Jesus rode into Je- 
 rusalem. His course was one of the three roads, 
 either over Olivet, around the Southern slope near 
 the foot, or the road still further west. What an 
 assembly that was! The Savior of the world was 
 in the dress of a Galilean traveler, riding upon an 
 ass at the head of that great company, while palm 
 branches were spread in his way and the men, wo- 
 men and the little children shouted (of course the 
 children did) "Hozanna to the son of David ! Blessed 
 is he that cometh in the name of the Lord, Hozanna 
 in the highest !" Matt. 21 :9. Perhaps yonder through 
 the Golden Gate, just near the temple, the procession 
 entered the city. The Turks closed up that gate hun- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 297 
 
 dreds of years ago because of a report among them 
 that a conqueror would come from the East, over 
 Olivet, some day and enter Jerusalem through this 
 gate aLd take possession of the city. What a ser- 
 mon that closed gate preached to us that day! Of 
 course a conqueror is coming from the East to rule 
 not only over Jerusalem but over the world, and how 
 his conquering coming will differ from His humble 
 entrance to the city before ! Do the silly Turks think 
 they can wall up a gate and keep Him out? Cannot 
 He who entered through the locked door to the pray- 
 er meeting of his Apostles pass beyond all the walls 
 man may build? 
 
 On beyond Bethany, down beyond the foothills 
 ran the blue stream of the River Jordan winding its 
 crooked course to the Dead Sea. It seemed as it 
 burst upon my vision it could not be over four or 
 five miles away, but again I was fooled by the clear 
 air of this land, for I knew Jordan was over twenty 
 miles away. 
 
 We visited the two Catholic churches on Olivet 
 and attended the services in one of them. The most 
 striking thing about these churches was the win- 
 dows. The words of the Lord's prayer were ar- 
 ranged in striking design on thirty-seven windows 
 in thirty-seven different languages. 
 
 Passing from the Mount of Olives we visited the 
 tomb of Herod the Great, also the Tomb of the Kings 
 which is one of the most noted burial places about 
 Jerusalem. These large tombs and chambers are 
 hewn out of solid rock. There are two stories and 
 many rooms in these tombs. Their history is un- 
 
298 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 certain. Perhaps they were for the Roman kings, 
 or maybe the Jewish kings. I could but wonder as 
 I beheld all these ancient burial places, what dis- 
 tinguished forms were put to rest within their walls. 
 It would be interesting if the mind could call up the 
 picture of all these burials. 
 
 We drove along the road over the slope of Olivet 
 around to the Damascus Gate, passing two caravans 
 of camels and a flock of sheep. They followed the 
 shepherd and obeyed all his calls. A little lamb was 
 tired and unable to finish the journey, so the shep- 
 herd took him in his arms and carried him on. Many 
 times the Master saw scenes like this and from them 
 He drew the finest lessons of the Father's love and 
 care for His little ones. 
 
 From the carriages as they went along that after- 
 noon, our eyes rested on a knoll outside the city wall 
 northward of the city. It took no word from the 
 guide to tell us this was Mount Calvary, where Jesus 
 died upon the cross. Who could, with word or pen, 
 describe his feelings as he looks upon that skull- 
 shaped hill where our Savior hung upon the cross 
 and died for our sins? Doubtless all of us were 
 thinking of the day in the years gone by, far away 
 from there, when groping through the shadows of 
 sin, our souls sought the cross of Jesus. All broken, 
 tired and sick with sin we came to let the blood that 
 was shed on Calvary cleanse us of our sin. The chil- 
 dren of God in the church of our childhood seemed 
 to be singing again : 
 
 "Just as I am without one plea 
 But that Thy blood was shed for me 
 And that Thou bidst me come to Thee, 
 O Lamb of God, I come, I come." 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 299 
 
 We felt ourselves coming again to the altar of 
 the old church six thousand miles away, with broken 
 heart and tear-filled eyes, and kneeling at the altar 
 of our fathers, that had known so many tears of 
 sorrow and joy, the soul, hungry and sick, sought 
 the dying Savior in penitent prayer, while the 
 verse came sweet and low 
 
 "Just as I am Thou wilt receive ; 
 
 Will welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, 
 
 Because Thy promise I believe: 
 
 Lamb of God, I come, I come." 
 And when the seeking sinner and the seeking Sa- 
 vior met, and the Savior had spoken "Peace" 
 the sweet peace of forgiveness to the seeking soul 
 the people sang: 
 
 "Just as I am Thy love unknown 
 
 Hath broken every barrier down; 
 
 Now to be Thine, yea, Thine alone ; 
 
 Lamb of God, I come, I come." 
 
 In our hearts we had been to Calvary before, but 
 now we were standing by the real spot where the 
 Lord was crucified. I tried to picture the scene but 
 it was a poor effort, for my soul was too overcome 
 to picture or describe anything. The three crosses 
 were there on the crest of the hill and the soldiers 
 on guard near by. The surroundings would afford 
 a splendid theatre where the great crowd that had 
 come into the city to the Passover could see the acts 
 on the stage in the center. The mass of people 
 crowded around to see the performance the public 
 crucifixion of three criminals who had proven them- 
 
300 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 selves unworthy of living among them. Yonder, 
 near the cross, was a little company more touched 
 than the others, a poor, bent and crushed woman 
 wept but she had not left her Son. 
 
 "Near the cross was Mary weeping; 
 
 There her mournful station keeping ; 
 
 Gazing on her dying Son ; 
 
 There in speechless anguish groaning, 
 
 Yearning, trembling, sighing, moaning; 
 
 Through her soul the sword had gone." 
 
 Then comes one of the most tender touches of all 
 the history of men. The dying eyes of Jesus were 
 turned toward that bent and troubled figure. In 
 the midst of the most intense agony the body and 
 the soul have ever known, He did not forget His 
 mother. He was all she had, and she was all He had. 
 He had no home or earthly store to will those He 
 left behind. He need not even think about who 
 would take his garments, the only earthly posses- 
 sion He had, for the soldiers who killed Him would 
 take His clothes for the trouble. Yet He made a 
 will, an additional will to the one He made in John 
 14, when as a last will and testament He left His 
 friends a legacy of Peace and Titles to Mansions in 
 the skies. This is a very peculiar will. There is no 
 case like it. When the eyes of the Savior saw Mary 
 His white lips moved "John, behold thy mother, 
 Mother, behold thy son." He had willed his mother 
 to His best friend and willed His best friend to His 
 mother. Mary, leaning on the arm of her new son 
 John, went down from Calvary. What tender pic- 
 
' TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 301 
 
 tures we would see if we could follow them through 
 the rest of their earthly life and see how each one 
 tried to carry out the Savior's dying request. 
 
 I think the greatest description of the crucifixion 
 I have ever seen is that of General Wallace in Ben 
 Hur. Over and over in my mind ran the words He 
 uses and rose the pictures He draws as we stood 
 about Calvary. It is not strange that the lips of 
 those in our carriage ceased speaking and tears ran 
 unhindered from the eyes that watched the scene 
 that day. 
 
 Calvary is occupied by a Mohammedan cemetery 
 and no alien foot is allowed upon its top. People 
 have been killed for trying to reach it. While the 
 Christian heart revolts at the thought of Turks own- 
 ing Calvary, it seemed to me that it was better so 
 than for the Catholics to own it and cover it with 
 a gloomy church and let priests sling incense where 
 Jesus died. Now it is bare and the sun shines 
 on it while all who come can see it. Surely, no build- 
 ing ought ever be put on Mt. Calvery. 
 
 From Calvary we went to the Garden in which 
 is located the tomb where Christ was buried. Of 
 course, great controversies have waged over the lo- 
 cation of these places. The Catholics have main- 
 tained all of them were to be located in the Church 
 of The Holy Sepulchre within the city walls, while 
 the great weight of Protestant scholarship has 
 placed the crucifixion and the tomb outside the city 
 walls. It is not the purpose of this writing to trace 
 the arguments for this position. After much study 
 of these authorities and looking upon the scenes 
 
302 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 with my Bible in my hand to see what it says, there 
 is not a shadow of doubt to me that "Gordon's Cal- 
 vary" and "Gordon's Tomb" to the north of the city 
 wall are genuine. They fill all conditions and no 
 other place could. These spots have General Gor- 
 don's name associated with them because by his labor 
 and money the weight of evidence was secured that 
 located them as the real places where Jesus died 
 and was buried. 
 
 The garden in which the tomb is located is a beau- 
 tiful one and is owned by some very devout Epis- 
 copalians from England. The old gentleman, who 
 was the garden keeper was indeed an attractive 
 Christian gentleman of culture and spiritual force. 
 He seems to live in the atmosphere of the garden 
 where Jesus was buried, providing an opportunity 
 for followers of Jesus to visit these sacred spots 
 and devoutly meditate, rather than using the garden 
 for commercial purposes. How different was the 
 atmosphere of this garden to other sacred places 
 occupied by lazy Turks and Catholics who drone 
 out their Latin and scatter incense! It was re- 
 freshing to find the tomb where Jesus was buried, 
 occupied by devout Episcopalians. 
 
 We greatly enjoyed our visit to this garden and 
 the lecture by the keeper. We entered this tomb 
 that had the name "Joseph" carved on it and read 
 there the gospel account of Christ's burial. What 
 feelings came to our hearts, as standing with bowed 
 heads in the empty tomb of Jesus, we reflected on 
 the scene so dear to Christian hearts! We could 
 almost see the weeping women coming in the gray 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 303 
 
 dawn of the first Easter morning, their hands full 
 of sweet spices, their hearts full of a sweeter love, 
 and their eyes overflowing with tears. All others 
 had left Him. Fearing naught that might be in 
 their path, they sought His tomb with a question 
 on their lips as to how their weak feminine hands 
 could roll the stone away, but with a faith in their 
 hearts that somehow God would attend to that. 
 Then they went back with the first message of a 
 Risen Saviour for a waiting, hungry world upon 
 their lips. Peter and John were so stirred that they 
 braved the dangers and ran with questions on their 
 lips to see for themselves. "So they ran, both of 
 them together, and the other disciple did outrun 
 Peter and came first to the sepulchre, and he, stoop- 
 ing down and looking in saw the linen clothes ly- 
 ing, yet he went not in. Then came Simon Peter 
 following him and went into the sepulchre." Jno. 
 20:4-6. John outran Peter I suppose because poor 
 Peter was so weakened by his suffering since his 
 awful sin of denial, and his eyes were so blinded 
 with tears he made a poor runner. When they 
 reached the tomb John halted for fear, but Peter 
 overtook him, passed him and went into the tomb 
 where his Lord had been. What must have been the 
 feelings of their hearts as they came to the grave 
 of the best friend they had ever had and found it 
 empty, knowing that no power could open it and 
 get the body away but the power that went in with 
 His body when it was buried? 
 
 Of course the authorities tried by bribery and 
 lies to prove his disciples stole His body away while 
 
304 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the soldiers slept. But who would believe it? The 
 disciples could not open the tomb, and they were 
 too frightened and timid to try. The soldiers would 
 not sleep, for it was a death penalty to sleep on 
 duty. And the whole company would not sleep 
 while such a robbery went on under their noses. 
 Besides this, if there ever was a time and place when 
 people were not inclined to sleep it was here and 
 now. This was a weak and foolish theory, and the 
 people did not believe it. They knew it was the 
 hand of God and not human hands that opened the 
 tomb. 
 
 What strange feelings came to our own hearts 
 as we stood beside this tomb! Many times I had 
 tried to preach to poor souls as they stood beside 
 the graves of their buried treasures. I had assured 
 mothers across the seas that their little ones were 
 not dead but sleeping, and soon the Lord who rose 
 from the dead Himself would raise them up and 
 place them in their mother's arms. I had assured 
 children they would see their parents again. I had 
 said it was all wrong to say they were dead. They 
 were only sleeping. I had comforted myself thus 
 beside the graves of my own loved ones many lea- 
 gues from here. What a privilege to have our faith 
 thus strengthened by a visit to the empty tomb and 
 looking in on the place where he arose and sing 
 
 "In rising God forsakes the tomb ; 
 In vain the tomb forbids His rise 
 Cherubic legions guard Him home 
 And shout Him welcome to the skies. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 305 
 
 Our approach to Jerusalem this time was from 
 over the hills of Galilee into the Damascus Gate. 
 Charles Jallouk met us at Shechem in a car and 
 took me ahead of the folks to make arrangements 
 for them, and have rooms assigned for our folks. 
 
 No event of the tour was more enjoyed than our 
 evening at Tea in the Jallouk home. These folks 
 are born noblemen. The Jallouk Brothers are the 
 best guides in Palestine, and their wives and chil- 
 dren are a credit to them. During the war news 
 came to me that Philip, the Prince of them all, had 
 died with Typhus fever in Moab. I waved Philip 
 and George goodbye at the Beyrout dock in 1914. 
 I looked down on George sad and alone at the same 
 place six years later. He was broken and at times 
 sad, but he was still the same true unselfish gentle- 
 man, ready to wear himself out for us. 
 
 It was several days until I had a good opport- 
 unity to hear George tell the details of his brother's 
 death and recount some of the sorrows and horrors 
 of the war. I sometimes wish I could reproduce 
 the pictures he drew, and give the soft light in his 
 eyes, with the shadows on his face and the quiver 
 on his lips. It is best I cannot do it. My blunt 
 interpretation is not equal to it. 
 
 When the war came, the tourists ceased to come. 
 The Turks confiscated money and property and 
 forced men in the army. Christians, who did not 
 flee, were deported. Many starved, beggars died 
 faster than they could be counted and a stream 
 went along the roads all the time. None could help 
 them The Jallouks lost everything and fled to 
 
306 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 escape the Turks. They were taken in by Christians 
 in Moab. Philip and his wife were sick of fever. 
 He died while she was unconscious. When she came 
 from delirium she asked where Philip was. They 
 told her he had gone to Jerusalem. That Prince of 
 God's Israel had entered the pearly gates of the new 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 We entered the Jallouk home through the gate in 
 the wall and sat under the vine and fig tree. The 
 true real hospitality of the East met us. Mother 
 Jallouk a kindly sweet old lady in whose heart 
 sorrow had done its work was in front of the re- 
 ceiving line. Philip's widow, her fine children, Mrs. 
 George and the younger brother's wife, helped re- 
 ceive and serve. Culture and manners were in evi- 
 dence. We feasted on tea, Turkish coffee, Oriental 
 cakes (delicious) fruits and other dainties. 
 
 I talked to the old mother thru an interpreter. 
 She held a locket in her hand which she wears near 
 her heart and said, "Philip." The tears were in 
 her eyes. I told her now many Americans, who 
 knew Philip, loved him and grieved at his death. 
 I told her what a great treasure it was, to have 
 such a son and how happy she would be when she 
 met him in Heaven. We will never forget that visit. 
 
 We had a busy Sunday in Jerusalem, going to 
 church. We went to Mass in the Catholic church, 
 the Greek church and the Armenian church. At 
 eleven we worshipped in Christ Episcopal Church. 
 Here we found a houseful of worshippers and the 
 service made us feel at home. All the British 
 soldiers were there. It was a good service and a 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 307 
 
 fine sermon. In the afternoon, we attended ser- 
 vices at the American Colony, and at night, we 
 worshipped at St. George's Episcopal Church, the 
 church of the Jallouks. 
 
 That day of church going in the Holy City was 
 delightful and made up somewhat for times when 
 we could not attend public worship. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ABOUT THE WALLS OF ZION. 
 
 We spent several days in the Holy City and were 
 busy all the time to make every precious moment 
 count. Of course I am not trying to give anything 
 like a full account of all we saw. It would be im- 
 possible for me to attempt such a thing ; I am merely 
 giving some impressions of some things. 
 
 One morning, just after breakfast, we all assem- 
 bled in front of the hotel for a donkey ride around 
 the wall of the city. There were fifty-two of us 
 and when we all got together it seemed to me I have 
 never seen such an array of donkeys. We discussed 
 the matter of how many donkeys were along, but 
 were never able to determine. 
 
 Palestine and Egypt cannot be disassociated from 
 the donkey. He is its national flower. He is every- 
 where. If you go out into the fields, he is there 
 browsing and happy. If you go in the alleys, he is 
 there asleep or in deep study over some solemn sub- 
 ject. If you go into the houses, he is there. If you 
 walk the streets, he is stepping on your toes, root- 
 ing his nose in your neck, rubbing his back on you 
 and switching his tail in your face when he has 
 energy enough to do so. You can't get away from 
 him There are ten thousand in Cairo alone. You 
 can hire him for a day's ride for a song or if you 
 want to buy him you can do so for something like 
 five dollars. He is usually mouse-colored but some- 
 times black or white. He is so small that your feet 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 309 
 
 will almost drag the ground when you mount him. 
 But notwithstanding his insignificant looks he can 
 and does carry immense burdens; for one of the 
 most pathetic sights of the country is the way they 
 burden their beasts. And when you get on his back 
 you will get one of the most pleasant and comfort- 
 able rides you ever had. 
 
 The world has never given the donkey his dues. 
 It has honored the horse in literature and even 
 mounted its heroes upon him on their monuments. 
 It has immortalized the dog in eloquent words and 
 touching stories that have touched the heart and 
 dimmed the eyes. It has honored the bird and 
 praised the cow, but what has it ever done for the 
 donkey? He has carried man's burdens and never 
 uttered a word of complaint save when Baalam tried 
 to drive him where he knew he ought not to go. 
 Sure-footed, careful and strong he has carried man 
 where other animals could not take him. He has 
 carried his owners' children, cared for them and 
 hurt them not. For all this service he has been 
 beaten, half starved, and his name used to curse with 
 for when we desire to put a person down as low 
 in the scale of brain and character as possible we 
 call him an ass. But the donkey does not deserve 
 such treatment, he has traits that are not com- 
 mendable, the main two being laziness and hard- 
 headedness, but in the East he is the poor man's 
 friend and in our land he ought to be. 
 
 We all selected our donkeys and mounted them 
 in great confusion. The confusion, however, was 
 among us, and not them, for a donkey never gets 
 
310 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 confused. He is at home anywhere and under all 
 circumstances, he is nature's most cool-headed ani- 
 mal. He didn't even get excited in the Ark. I 
 selected mine, mounted him. His name was Mo- 
 hammed, and I think that was his faith, for he had 
 some traits very much like that prophet. He did 
 not believe in progressive doctrine but was a stand- 
 patter. He also, like the prophet believed in pre- 
 destination, holding that whatever was going to be 
 would take place whether he was there to see it or 
 not, so he need not hurry. But he also believed in 
 the perseverance of the saints, beliving that when 
 he did start he would keep on until he got there 
 even if the program was over. 
 
 The vision of that donkey party made impressions 
 on the slate of my memory that will never wear off. 
 The solemn little mouse-colored donkeys with 
 fringes of many colors on their saddles, long-legged 
 men with feet nearly dragging the ground, digni- 
 fied D. Ds., professors and bankers, laughing lassies 
 and solemn school marms, stout ladies and thin la- 
 dies with the bare-foot, baggy-panted donkey-boys, 
 produced a picture I have hung high on the walls of 
 my soul. 
 
 After all necessary preliminaries, we started 
 around to the south of the Joppa Gate and down the 
 Valley of Gihon, that moves on the south side of 
 the city until it becomes the Valley of Hinnom and 
 runs into the Valley of Jehosaphet, which is formed 
 by the brook Kedron, which runs between Olivet 
 and the city walls on the east side. Thus the city is 
 almost entirely surrounded by these valleys which 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 311 
 
 vary in depth from almost a level where they begin 
 to over six hundred and seventy feet at the junc- 
 ture of Hinnom and Jehosaphat. A ride along these 
 valleys, around the city walls, over ground historic 
 as no other ground can be with landmarks that 
 stir your soul, is a privilege never to be forgotten. 
 I got along very well with my donkey, Mohammed. 
 I hope I will not be considered sacreligious or disre- 
 spectful to the prophet when I shorten his name to 
 "Ham" for all of it too much to say when hurried. 
 He was very hard to get started, for he seemed to 
 have a great deal of pious meditating to do before he 
 began his journey. After you had exhausted about 
 all your energy to get him under way you had 
 equally as much trouble halting him when and where 
 you chose. He was like one of the old-time freight 
 trains before the days of air brakes. You had to be- 
 gin to put on brakes as soon as you saw the station 
 and then you were sure to go by it and have to back 
 back to it. To pull on the reins was like pulling on 
 the guy-wire of a telegraph pole. It seemed to make 
 no impression on him. To speak to him was worse, 
 for he did not seem to understand English, or if he 
 did he paid no attention to it. I did not try Turkey 
 talk to him, for I never did like to use that lan- 
 guage. I did devise a method of management before 
 the day was done. I had wondered what his long 
 and ponderous ears were for and I thought I would 
 experiment some, so when I wanted him to stop at 
 the Hill of Evil Council and he seemed bent on a 
 through trip to Jehosaphat with no stop-overs al- 
 lowed, I caught a big ear in each hand <\nd swung 
 
312 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 back on my stirrups with all my might Ham 
 stopped with grace and dispatch. After that I dis- 
 pensed with the bridle and when I wanted him to 
 "haw" I pulled his left ear and when I wanted him 
 to "gee" I pulled his right one and when I wanted 
 him to "whoa" I pulled both, and I had no more 
 trouble save in getting him started. I didn't learn 
 how to do that. One of the donkey-boys ran up 
 while I was swinging on to Ham's ears to keep him 
 from going into a cavern and protested. I think he 
 was trying to tell me in Arabic that this was not the 
 proper way to manage a donkey. I argued to him in 
 English that it answered the purpose and I pro- 
 posed to continue it. 
 
 Our dignified divinty, Williams protested because 
 of my treatment of my donkey and said I ought to 
 talk to him in his native tongue. So he called a boy 
 and asked him what to say to the donkey to get 
 him to stop. The boy said it and the doctor re- 
 peated it all day. At the end of the journey the 
 guide smiled and asked if he knew what he had 
 been saying to the donkey, he replied he had been 
 telling him to stop, like the boy told him. Imagine 
 his feelings when the guide told him he had been 
 telling the donkev to "go to the devil" all day. I 
 told him I'd rather pull his ears than to cuss like 
 that. 
 
 Doctor Gibson had turned out his whiskers for 
 reasons best known to himself. Perhaps he had 
 associated with goats until he wanted to look like 
 one. When his donkey got to the highest place in 
 the Valley of Hinnom (from which we get our word 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 313 
 
 "hell") he started down the precipice. I told the 
 doctor I had seen a good many things but never saw 
 a Baptist preacher on his way to hell on a donkey 
 before. It was suggested that the donkey looked 
 back and saw the whiskers and thought his passen- 
 ger had some interests in that place, and he wanted 
 to take him home. 
 
 One reason we had trouble guiding our steeds was 
 we did not have enough donkeyboys. Each donkey 
 is accustomed to having a boy following behind him, 
 beating him with a stick to make him go and using 
 his tail as a rudder to guide him in the true course. 
 
 We paused to view the hill of Evil Council, where 
 Judas met the Chief Priests and the Scribes and in 
 secret planned the destruction of Jesus. What a 
 sad sidelight on human nature? The leaders of 
 Church and State, in secret plot to kill the Son of 
 God when they should have been helping Him do 
 His Father's work! And saddest of all, Judas, one 
 of the Apostles whom He had trusted, loved and 
 befriended, sneaking through the city in the night 
 to join the company to sell his Lord for a little sil- 
 ver! What sadder verse has the Scripture recorded 
 than that that says of Judas "He went out and it 
 was night." Yes it was night, a dark and awful 
 night to his soul and to the world. Their deeds 
 could only be done in the night. The devils creep 
 forth at nightfull to ply their trade, for as Jesus 
 said of them, "They love darkness rather than light 
 because their deeds are evil." 
 
 Not far from the Hill of Evil Council, further 
 down the valley is Alkedema, or the Field of Blood. 
 
314 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD , . 
 
 What a history, has this barren, rocky field ? Bought 
 with the money for which Judas sold his Lord, it 
 furnished the grave that was to hold the body of 
 the Traitor himself! Many men buy their own 
 graves with the money they have loved more than 
 they love their Lord or their souls ! What thoughts 
 came into our minds as we beheld this awful place ! 
 Judas Iscariot ! What a history he has? How strange 
 such a black chapter should come into the history 
 of the beautiful life of Jesus? What is the mean- 
 ing of it all ? Strange, sad mysteries ! It is strange 
 there will grow in the same soil, fed by the same 
 rain and sunshine a food that gives life and the 
 poison that destroys it! It is stranger still there 
 will grow up in the same home, reared by the same 
 parents a child that will honor his parents and one 
 who brings their gray heads down in sorrow to the 
 grave! But stranger than all is the fact that in 
 the family circle of Jesus Christ there should be a 
 Judas and a John! 
 
 The great lesson that comes to us is If from 
 the side of Jesus the devil could drag one of his 
 apostles down to ruin and hell, there is no place 
 on earth where his fiendish feet may not go, and 
 there is no mortal who may not fall a victim to his 
 assaults. Judas did not go the depths at one leap, 
 but sure and swift were the steps he took down 
 the stairway of his doom covetousness, jealousy, 
 listening to the jingle of the money more than to 
 the words of his Lord ; resenting his Lord's correc- 
 tion, keeping company with his Lord's enemies; 
 putting a price on holy things and he had reached 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 315 
 
 the bottom. But the money burned him. He had 
 gained his paltry purse, but on the other side of the 
 balance were the things he lost, his peace, his repu- 
 tation, his place in the church, his soul. 
 
 Poor Judas, thy accused dust will be here in bar- 
 ren Alkedema until God calls time on the world ! No 
 vandal's hand will bother thee. All who go this way 
 will pause with a feeling of revulsion and disgust; 
 Friendless, lost, abandoned, thou hast gone down the 
 valley of darkness. While the judge crowns Peter 
 for his martyrdom and John for his life long love 
 he will reward thee for thy treachery and suicide. 
 What a scene that judging time will be ! The men 
 thou didst help will have no sympathy for thee and 
 in hell the devils and the damned will sneer at thee 
 while across the great gulf in the city of God an- 
 gels will welcome thy comrades to everlasting peace. 
 
 Another thought came to me in this dark place. 
 It somewhat crowded out my condemnation of 
 Judas. If he fell from the place he held I may fall 
 from mine. Who is exempt from hell's assaults or 
 proof against its alluring lead? May God help us 
 to be true, and if we can never do great deeds for 
 Christ help us not to sell our rock-ribbed loyalty 
 for any glittering bribe. Some men say they hold 
 aloft from Christ and the church because of the 
 hypocrites that are among his people, but somehow 
 more than ever that day as I reviewed the career 
 of Judas on the ground where it was enacted there 
 came a stronger band about my soul that bound me 
 to my Lord because of his failure. If your mother 
 had two sons and your brother brought the family 
 
316 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 in disgrace and sorrow to her grave after a life of 
 vileness and shame, would you leave the bent form 
 of your weeping and broken-hearted mother at the 
 grave and go off to disown her because of the sin 
 that was in your family? Wouldn't you rather 
 put your arm about her broken-hearted form, kiss 
 her weeping face and say, "Mother, your other son 
 has disgraced you and broken your heart, but I will 
 stick to you closer and love you better because of 
 it." I felt like saying something like that to my 
 Saviour as I stood by the Field of Blood. 
 
 Just below the Field of Blood is the valley of Hin- 
 nom from which comes the words Gehenna and hell. 
 Jerusalem represented heaven and the valley of Hin- 
 nom represented hell. Into this valley the garbage 
 and filth of Jerusalem was dumped, and set on fire. 
 Here, also, the offal from the slaughter pens nearby 
 was thrown. The fires never went out here. The 
 worms died not but ever preyed upon the putrifying 
 mass. The wild dogs and jackalls came up in the 
 night with their hungry howls and gleaming eyes 
 seeking prey. This was in outer darkness for the 
 valley is deep and no light shone save the fires 
 that smouldered and sent up the awful odors to- 
 ward the skies. In this valley was inaugurated 
 the worship of Moloch. In the arms of a great iron 
 god made hollow so internal fires could heat it as a 
 stove the people placed their little children. 
 
 These things account for the references Jesus 
 made to the home of lost souls. Hell was to be the 
 dumping place of all the filth and vileness of the 
 Universe. Everything that was not fit for heaven 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 317 
 
 would be cast into it, and set on fire. If Russel or 
 anybody else can get any consolation from the con- 
 templation of such an eternal abode they surely 
 have accomodating minds. I could but notice how 
 fitting it was that the Hill of Evil Council and the 
 Field of Blood should be so close to Gehenna. 
 
 Our journey around the city walls carried us by 
 the village of Siloam and the pool of that name 
 where Jesus made the blind man go and wash that 
 he might receive his sight. Also we made stops 
 at the Virgin's fountain, the tomb of Zecheriah and 
 St. James, reputed to be the burial places of these 
 distinguished characters. Not far from these we 
 came to the pillar of Absalom, a rather imposing, 
 yet gloomy looking, monument. This is supposed to 
 be the grave where Absalom was buried and when 
 the natives pass by they usually spit at it and throw 
 stones at it to show their contempt for a son who 
 treated his father so. Now and then the piles of 
 stones cast about the tomb become so great they 
 have to be cleared away. Near this tomb is the tomb 
 of Jehosaphat where the good king is supposed to 
 be buried. From this fact comes the name of the 
 valley. 
 
 We left our donkeys outside and made a visit to 
 Solomon's quarries. The entrance is not large and 
 one would never think of the marvelous scheme 
 of this underground work. There seems to be no 
 end to the caverns and tunnels which the workmen 
 of the great King Solomon dug under the city. 
 Some of them open into large rooms which are very 
 high. It is said the full extent of these underground 
 
318 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 passages has been explored by very few, if anybody, 
 and much of their regions, is unknown. Here is 
 where the stones were secured for the building of 
 the Temple, and all the stones were quarried so that 
 in putting them together there was heard no sound 
 of instruments. The stone is light gray granite, 
 almost white and everywhere is seen the signs of 
 the workmen's hands, where the stones were hewn 
 out and in many places half finished stones are 
 found. 
 
 The whole earth under Jerusalem seems to be filled 
 with this stone. 
 
 When the force of Solomon's workmen was at 
 work getting out these stones, bringing them up the 
 incline to the entrance and conveying them to the 
 temple grounds it must have been a wonderful 
 sight. We visited a Masonic lodge in one of these 
 caverns. 
 
 A visit to the Jews' Wailing Place brought strange 
 feelings and made lasting impressions on all of us. 
 There is not a more touching place in or about Jeru- 
 salem than this place where the Jews come to shed 
 their tears, sing their songs of lamentations and 
 pray to the God of their fathers. There are those 
 who see in this nothing but an exhibition of cere- 
 monial ritualism, but it did not seem so to me as I 
 looked upon it. There may have been a few in the 
 crowd that day who were there just from custom 
 or because of other reasons than sincere devotions, 
 but the large majority of them seemed to me to 
 be pouring out of hungry and sick hearts sincere 
 lamentations and prayers. It was a sad sight. An 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 319 
 
 hour in which there was no note of rejoicing, naught 
 of peace in any heart, and no smile on any face, 
 and is it not a sad hour for any people when their 
 worship comes to that? 
 
 The wailing place is just inside the city beside an 
 old wall of the ancient city which is said to be a 
 part of the original wall of Solomon's temple. It 
 is the beginning of the Temple Area, now held by the 
 Turks who will not let a Jew pass over the ground. 
 Their fathers used to worship there. Their incense 
 went up on the air to their God. Their songs went 
 wide and sweet upon the winds. Their prayers in 
 streams flowed heavenward in the good days of 
 Israel's glory and now the heathen Turks will not 
 let them enter the grounds. So they come here every 
 day, but in large numbers on Friday and mourn 
 and pray, kissing the stones and placing their fore- 
 heads against them. When we were there they were 
 chanting like a solemn dirge the words of Isaiah 
 64:9-11, "Be not wroth very sore Lord, neither 
 remember iniquity forever; behold we beseech thee 
 we are all thy people. Thy holy cities are a wil- 
 derness, Zion is a wilderness, Jerusalem is a deso- 
 lation. Our holy and beautiful house where our 
 fathers praised thee is burned up with fire and all 
 our pleasant things are laid waste." 
 
 They repeat other such expressions equally as sad 
 and mournful from the major and minor prophets. 
 Psalms and lamentations are poured forth from 
 their lips with tones, manner and looks of the most 
 intense interest. Some of them seem to be going 
 through severe internal sufferings. 
 
320 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 How history and prophecy rolled down upon us 
 at this sad place that evening. For everywhere you 
 go in Palestine you are impressed with the literal 
 fulfillment of the prophecies. The glory of Israel 
 had departed, and her beautiful land laid waste. 
 These Jews were coming back to Jerusalem, the city 
 of their fathers, and praying for restoration of 
 their greatness and were trying to reoccupy Pales- 
 tine. What a great thing it would be for them to 
 accept the Lord they rejected and then claim the 
 Promises of God! 
 
 The day was drawing to a close and we made our 
 way back to our hotel feeling that it had been a 
 day of peculiar interest and pleasure. It being 
 sometime till supper, Williams and myself walked 
 out about the Joppa Gate to study the life we saw 
 there. The usual amount of begging and trading 
 was going on. Almost every stand was supplied 
 with stale bread and watermelon seed which were 
 bought by the poor people for some miserable-look- 
 ing pennies. Upon these they made their meal. 
 Four Bedowen had partaken of this poor meal and 
 were sitting down upon the ground talking. They 
 were children of the hills, shepherds of a few sheep, 
 roamers far and wide. They had come into the city 
 on some mission, and like we were doing had come 
 to the gate with the crowd to take a little interest 
 in life. They were rough-looking men and they were 
 unkempt and dirty, yet their faces were friendly 
 and their eyes were kind. Three seemed to be 
 happy and one sad. It was easier to guess reasons 
 for the sadness of the one than it was for the happi- 
 
o 
 cr 
 5 
 
Garden of Gethsemene. 
 
 The Walls of Jerusalem. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 321 
 
 ness of the three. The three were busy trying to 
 cheer up the sad one. They laughed at him, slapped 
 him on the back, called his attention to everything 
 of interest in sight. They told him stories and 
 laughed at them themselves, but the sad man did 
 not laugh, nor did he smile. He did not even look 
 up or take any interest in what was going on. I 
 was thinking their mission to the city was in some 
 way in behalf of their troubled friend. We could 
 not, of course, understand anything they said, but 
 we could read the meaning of what was going on. 
 We had watched them with much interest because 
 there was much of human life in the picture. I was 
 standing near them with some smoked glasses in 
 my hand. The sun was sinking over the Holy Hills 
 and throwing the beams of its good-night upon the 
 city. The light was soft, the glare was gone, and 
 I had removed the glasses which all travelers must 
 wear to keep the glare of the sun from burning 
 out their eyes. One of the men saw the glasses in 
 my hand and called the attention of the troubled 
 one to it. They all then began to talk to him about 
 me and they became so interested they stood up 
 and came nearer. One of them reached forth his 
 hand for the glasses. I gave them to him and he 
 put them on the eyes of his troubled friend, and as 
 he did, I saw the cause of the man's sadness. His 
 eyes were red and water was running from them. 
 One of the great curses of the land, blindness was 
 pressing down upon him. From constant contact 
 with the burning sun and glare of rock and sand 
 as he looked after his sheep, with no protection 
 for his eyes he was going blind. 
 
822 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 When he put the glasses on he looked over the 
 hills of his fathers toward the sunset. His friends 
 were speaking to him. From his troubled face the 
 shadows were passing and in his red, sad eyes a 
 new light was shining. One of the men reached 
 forth his hand and took mine, giving it a vigorous 
 shake. He then took the hand of his afflicted 
 friend and put it in mine, the while making signs 
 and speaking in his native tongue. I understood 
 it all. He wanted the glasses for his afflicted friend 
 thinking this invention of Western civilization would 
 have magic power to save the poor man's eyes. 
 Perhaps his friends had come with him to Jerusa- 
 lem to seek some aid for their friend in his afflic- 
 tion. I shook the man's hand and also the hand of 
 his friend, which according to the custom of the 
 country was sealing the bargain in the presence of 
 a witness that I had given him the glasses. He 
 went his way rejoicing in his gift and hoping it 
 would save his eyes. I went my way feeling happy 
 that I had had the privilege of taking part in such 
 a little act of kindness at the historic Joppa gate. 
 But my mind turned back to the one who used to 
 pass in the gates of the city and when he saw 
 such poor afflicted eyes he touched them with his 
 fingers and spoke a word to them, bringing to them 
 the blessing of sight. Oh that he were here to-day 
 to bring the same help to the many eyes this glare 
 was burning out. And. then there came the thought 
 that our poor, blind souls coming to Him receive 
 sisrht and see the blessings of forgiveness, peace 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 323 
 
 and everlating life. So we went to our supper 
 from the Joppa gate singing: 
 
 Amazing grace, how sweet the sound 
 
 That saved a wretch like me ; 
 I once was lost, but now I'm found, 
 
 Was blind but now I see. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ON THE SITE OF THE TEMPLE. 
 
 Our hotel life in Jerusalem was the most home- 
 like of any we found. By this time in our journeys 
 we had begun to feel like a big family, and some- 
 how the other tourists at the hotel were of the same 
 mind. So our fellowship was very pleasant. Our 
 dragoman, Philip, and his faithful brothers left un- 
 done nothing that would add to out* comfort and 
 the hotel authorities were as thoughtful, kind and 
 attentive as they could be. The waiters were un- 
 usually attentive to us, so much so that one day at 
 our table we raised a tip for our boy. He was 
 a pathetic . looking Armenian who seemed to feel 
 that his standing on earth and Heaven would be de- 
 termined by his attention to his table. When the 
 boy received the tip he went to the chief waiter 
 with that matter. The chief waiter came to us at 
 once and informed us the boy would have to return 
 the money or be dismissed from the hotel, for the 
 rule of the management was that no tips were to 
 be accepted by any employee. This was a new thing 
 under the sun to be found in hotels, and we felt like 
 taking off our hats to the Hotel Fast, and yet we 
 were sorry for the poor boy who wanted the money, 
 and no doubt needed it. 
 
 The water we drank was very good but hard to 
 get. They seemed to be stingy with it, as they are 
 everywhere, and well they might. Still when we 
 demanded it we got it in such quanities as we 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 325 
 
 wanted. It is hard for the people to understand 
 the thirst Americans have for water. They drink 
 very little, perhaps the main reason is that it is so 
 scarce and hard to get. It is much easier to get 
 wine than water. One day I asked the hotel man 
 where his supply of water came from. He told me 
 to come down to the entrance the next morning at 
 six if I was up, and he would show me. That morn- 
 ing a company of Arab girls came up the Bethle- 
 hem Road by the Joppa gate with large stone water 
 pitchers on their heads. These pitchers seem to 
 hold four or five gallons, and they keep the water 
 cool and fresh for a long time. The girls filed into 
 the hotel and putting down their burdens received 
 their pay of a few pennies, and went on their home- 
 ward way. The hotel man informed us this water 
 came from a cool, pure spring near Bethlehem. 
 Think of girls carrying water on their heads in 
 huge pitchers for six miles! When I learned that 
 I was ashamed that I had been such a pig as to 
 demand so much of it to drink. 
 
 All over Palestine we saw the women and the 
 girls on those long journeys with their water jars, 
 carrying water home. We also saw hundreds of 
 men carrying water, but they were carrying it in 
 goat skins. It is considered a gross breech of con- 
 duct for a man to carry a pitcher. Thus when Jesus 
 sent the disciples to find the ass upon which he 
 would ride into Jerusalem he told them to follow 
 a man whom they would see carrying a pitcher. 
 Had he said "bottle" they would have been confused, 
 as they would doubtless see a large number carry- 
 
326 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ing these skin bottles, but when he said pitcher it 
 was clear, for it would be so unusual to see a man 
 carrying a pitcher that it would attract much at- 
 tention, since it was likely the only such case they 
 would see. 
 
 It was a mystery to me how they got the skin 
 off the goats without so far as you could see any 
 rent in the hide. The head and the feet were cut 
 off and thongs of hide tied to them, and these 
 thrown over the shoulders. The neck or a leg was 
 used as a mouth to let the water out. I thought 
 they scared the goat so he jumped out. The most 
 of these carriers of skins of water seemed not to 
 be carrying it for family use, but for sale to public 
 places or on the street by the glass. We saw a great 
 many of these goatskins and once we saw a man 
 selling water on the street in a dogskin. No, I 
 didn't drink from this bottle ("not as I knows of," 
 as a colored witness said to the court), and don't 
 know how it was, but those who knew said it was 
 fine. There seemed to be a great demand for it. 
 
 We spent part of the hours in the evening and 
 during the mid-day hours when it was too hot for 
 much travel about the city in writing postcards and 
 mailing them to our friends. I sent about five hun- 
 dred, mailing one into every home in my church 
 and to my relatives and friends. These cards, beau- 
 tiful souvenirs of Palestine, cost us seventy cents 
 a hundred, and the postage when less than five 
 words were used was a cent and a quarter (one 
 matelick) , which made the card delivered to friends 
 at home cost a fraction less than two cents. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 327 
 
 The visit to the temple area is always of peculiar 
 interest to every Christian traveler. The section 
 occupied by Solomon's Temple, courts and chambers 
 connected therewith occupied a plot of thirty-seven 
 acres in the most commanding section of the city. 
 The temple stood in the center of this section and 
 faced Olivet and the sun rise. To picture the glories 
 and splendor of this temple and its surroundings 
 in the time of Solomon is beyond the power of 
 man to grasp. We visited the temple area early in the 
 morning and took our time going over the sacred 
 ground and thinking of the history that was made 
 here in gold and glory and blood and fire. What 
 spot on earth has witnessed over and over such a 
 train of mighty events? Its first history comes to 
 us from that pathetic chapter in the life of Abra- 
 ham when God ordered him to take his son Isaac 
 (Gen. 22) and take him to Mt. Moriah and offer 
 him as a sacrifice. The home of Abraham was then 
 several miles to the south. He came to Moriah 
 which the main authorities of Bible History now 
 agree was here in Jerusalem and was the crest of 
 the hill upon which the temple of Israel was destined 
 to stand. God had a plan and purpose in these 
 strange events which are well worth our careful 
 thought and meditation. 
 
 Isaac was the only son of Abraham. In a pecu- 
 liar sense Abraham, the father, stood for God our 
 Father, and Isaac, the son, represented Christ the 
 Son. Abraham took his only son to Mt. Moriah 
 and was in the act of sacrificing him to his God 
 when he was ordered to stay his hand. This was on 
 
328 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the very spot where for centuries the sacrifices of 
 Israel would be offered. All these things pointed to 
 the time when Christ would die on the hill of Cal- 
 vary a few leagues away. God would allow His son 
 Jesus to be offered up as the fulfillment of all pro- 
 phecies and accomplish the salvation of all who 
 henceforth had faith in His blood. 
 
 The next mention we find of the temple site is 
 in 2 Sam. 24. It is now called "The threshing floor 
 of Arauiiah the Jebusite." God tells David to go to 
 Araunah and buy this spot for an altar. David did 
 so and built there an altar unto the Lord and of- 
 fered burnt offerings and peace offerings and called 
 upon the name of the Lord and he answered him 
 by fire. 1 Chr. 21 :26. Then David said, "This is 
 the house of the Lord God and this is the altar of 
 burnt offering for Israel." 1 Chr. 22 :1. This settles 
 beyond question the fact that King David, who in- 
 structed Solomon as to the building of the temple, 
 also selected the place and he did it not of his 
 own fancy, but by the order of God. This thresh- 
 ing floor is declared to be the site where Isaac was 
 to have been offered. 
 
 The first temple that ever stood here was Solo- 
 mon's Temple, the first permanent dwelling place of 
 God among the people after the Tabernacle passed 
 away. The active work of building was eight years. 
 The principle material was rock from the quarries 
 under the city, cedars from Lebanon and gold, sil- 
 ver, brass and cypress from Tyre. Large numbers 
 of the most skilled workmen to be secured in the 
 world were busy bringing to completion this the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 329 
 
 most wonderful building of the world. The height 
 of the temple was two hundred feet. Its body was 
 of white granite. The floor and the roof were of 
 gold. Its pillars were of brass (hollow), two of 
 them were twenty-seven feet and their circumfer- 
 ence sixteen feet. The altar was of brass. For the 
 temple service there were twenty thousand silver 
 cups and forty thousand of gold, and ten thousand 
 golden candlesticks. There were also eighty thou- 
 sand vessels for water for purifying; one hundred 
 thousand golden vials and twice as many of silver; 
 also eighty thousand golden dishes for kneading 
 flour and twice as many made of silver. Of large 
 basins for mixing unleavened bread there were 
 sixty thousand of gold and twice as many of silver. 
 The golden censors for carrying incense to the altars 
 were twenty thousand and those for carrying fire 
 from the altar were fifty thousand. The garments 
 of the priests were of white and covered with a 
 thousand precious stones. There were ten thousand 
 pretty garments of fine linen, two hundred thousand 
 trumpets and as many white robes for the choir 
 of singers. What was it to hear the music of 
 such a choir? This gives but a faint glimpse of a 
 part of the glories of Solomon's temple. Critics 
 have said there was a far too free use of gold and 
 silver, but we must remember in those days it was 
 not money but "goods" and the supply was great 
 and it was all in the hands of a very few who alone 
 could use it. 
 
 What a picture this temple must have presented 
 to the view of all the surrounding hills as the morn- 
 
330 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ing sun rose over Olivet and shot its shining rays 
 upon its walls of white and domes of gold ! Or sink- 
 ing behind the hills of Judea it threw upon all that 
 marshalled glory the soft light of a dying day! 
 Travelers coming from afar could behold the vision. 
 On the banks of the River Jordan and the shores of 
 the Dead Sea over twenty miles away people could 
 see the white temple and crown of gold shining in 
 the sun. From far and wide pilgrims and caravans 
 as well as shepherds who watched their flocks would 
 rest on a hill and shade their eyes with their hands 
 as they gazed on the glories of Israel there upon the 
 hill and in their hearts longed to realize their high- 
 est hopes and stand within its courts. 
 
 The dedication of Solomon's temple was an event 
 of such magnificence and display that it has never 
 been equalled in the annals of the nations. People 
 came in multitudes from all parts of Israel's do- 
 mains and there was hardly room to pitch another 
 tent on any hill around. The Bible tells us Solomon 
 used as sacrifices one hundred and twenty thousand 
 sheep and twenty-two thousand oxen. The blood 
 from such a multitude of slaughtered victims must 
 have run like a river down the Kedron Valley. That 
 much meat on the markets to-day would sell for 
 about twelve million dollars. There are those who 
 think these numbers too high and yet in the days 
 of Israel's highest wealth and prosperity it is not 
 at all unreasonable to suppose the people could have 
 secured from their pastures as many sheep and 
 oxen, and that so many priests in several days could 
 sacrifice them. It must have made a wonderful im- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 331 
 
 pression on the people of Israel to see all these 
 slaughtered victims and the blood that was flowing 
 and feel that it in some strange way represented a 
 sacrifice God would make to save their souls. 
 
 The prayer of dedication delivered by Solomon 
 ranks as the longest and one of the most eloquent 
 and touching prayers in all literature. The Lord 
 was surely near the king when with uplifted hands 
 he prayed. Standing near the spot where he must 
 have been with the Bible in my hand the last sen- 
 tence of that prayer came so clear to my soul that 
 I could almost hear the voice of the king ringing 
 over the hills. "If they sin against thee (and there 
 is no man that sinneth not) and thou be angry 
 with them and deliver them in the hand of the 
 enemy, far off or near; yet if they shall bethink 
 themselves in the land whither they are carried 
 captive, and turn again and make supplication unto 
 thee in the land of them that carried them captive, 
 saying, 'We have sinned and have done perversely, 
 we have dealt wickedly f if they turn unto thee with 
 all their heart and with all their soul in the land of 
 their enemies, who carried them captive, and pray 
 unto thee toward their land, which thou gavest unto 
 their fathers, the city which thou hast chosen and 
 the house which I have built for thy name, then hear 
 thou their prayer, and their supplication in heaven 
 thy dwelling place and maintain their cause; and 
 forgive thy people who have sinned against thee 
 and all their transgressions wherein they have 
 transgressed against thee; and give them compas- 
 sion before those who carried them captive that they 
 
332 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 may have compassion on them (for they are thy 
 people and thine inheritance which thou broughtest 
 forth out of Egypt from the midst of the furnace 
 of iron) ; that thine eyes may be open unto the sup- 
 plication of thy servant and unto the supplication 
 of thy people Israel to hearken unto them when- 
 soever they cry unto thee; for thou didst separate 
 them from among all the people of the earth, to 
 be thine inheritance, as thou spakest to Moses thy 
 servant when thou broughtest our fathers out of 
 Egypt, Lord God." 1 Kings 8 :46-53. 
 
 It would be hard to find a more touching and 
 thrilling prayer anywhere. It must have greatly ef- 
 fected the great concourse of people. Does it not 
 seem from the tone of the great king's prayer his 
 soul had in a sweep of prophecy seen a vision of 
 the time when his people would forsake their God 
 and be scattered over the world while the glory he 
 now beheld would be blown away on the winds ? 
 
 I could but feel deep in my soul the contrast be- 
 tween those days of Solomon and now. There came 
 a time when Israel's glory was departed and not a 
 vestige of her greatness left behind. Her proud 
 priests and prophets were led away in chains; her 
 fair daughters sold in the market as slaves; her 
 children dashed to pieces on the rocks; her temple 
 prostrated in the dust; her sacred vessels bartered 
 for merchandise. Unhallowed feet of an alien race 
 walked in her Holy of Holies where once the High 
 Priest of God went to pray for the sins of the peo- 
 ple. Heathen curses rose on the air where once the 
 sweet insense from Israel's altars rose on the winds 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 333 
 
 to God. In the courts of the temple where the 
 Jewish maidens once sang the song of Miriam arose 
 the heartrending cry of the souls as they were 
 borne from the hills they loved so well to return 
 again no more. Over to Babylon they went footsore, 
 tired and weak until after a long journey they sat 
 down by the river of Babylon and with their faces 
 buried in their hands and their heads between their 
 knees they wept when they remembered Zion, 
 "Upon the willows in the midst thereof we hanged 
 up our harps. For there they that led us captive 
 required of us songs, and they that wasted us re- 
 quired of us mirth, saying, 'Sing us one of the 
 songs of Zion/ How shall we sing the Lord's song 
 in a strange land ? Tf I forget thee, Jerusalem, let 
 my right hand forget her cunning. Let my tongue 
 cleave to the roof of my mouth." Ps. 137. 
 
 No they couldn't sing the Lord's song in a strange 
 land. The day of their singing was over and their 
 harps were hung up forever. Strange people, 
 lonely, homeless in the earth, driven from among 
 men, persecuted, oppressed and ridiculed, they have 
 been unwelcome anywhere but have gone every- 
 where. They have ceased to herd sheep, but have 
 hoarded the world's gold. Sneered at in every mart 
 of trade, they have had a mighty hand in the com- 
 merce of the earth. They are a byword among na- 
 tions and outlawed from social circles and yet their 
 fathers were priests and prophets in the service of 
 Jehovah when our ancestors were naked savages in 
 a wilderness that knew no law. All of this was 
 caused by sin, that fatal scourge that has wrought 
 
334 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 its havoc and desolation in the earth since the time 
 it broke down Eden's garden gate. Everywhere 
 you turn in Palestine you see the literal fulfillment 
 of the prophecy which foretold Israel's doom, be- 
 cause of their sin. 
 
 These were our meditations as we walked about 
 the Mosque of Omar, the Turkish temple, that now 
 stands on the site of the wonderful Temple of Solo- 
 mon. It gives one a strange feeling to see these 
 dirty heathen where Israel's glory reigned. They 
 met us at the door and put dirty, germ-laden slip- 
 pers on our feet to keep us from defiling the holy 
 place. This mosque is one of the most noted build- 
 ings of the world, not only on account of its location 
 and history, but also on account of its construction. 
 No attempt at description will be undertaken. It is 
 gorgeous and gaudy and imposing. The windows 
 were designed by the finest expert to be found and 
 tradition goes that so well pleased were the Turks 
 with his work and so fearful were they that he 
 would duplicate it somewhere else in the world that 
 they had him killed. 
 
 The most interesting thing in and about the place 
 is the Rock Moriah. It is something like sixty feet 
 long, fifty feet wide and ten or twelve feet high at 
 the highest point. This is the very rock on the 
 crest of Mt. Moriah where the uplifted hand of 
 Abraham was ready to sacrifice his son. On this rock 
 was Israel's altar and here the blood of the sacrifices 
 ran through an opening in the rock out to the 
 Kedron Valley. On this rock the blood of Saracen 
 and Christian has flown in streams as they slaugh- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 335 
 
 tered one another in multitudes and piled about the 
 sacred place their mangled bodies. What a rock! 
 What a history ! How it represents that Rock, Christ 
 Jesus! All through history God speaks of a Rock, 
 solid, great and mighty upon which the truth, hope 
 and life of the world must rest and on which men 
 and nations must build. This rock has been wet 
 with the blood of sacrifice. Nearby that Great Rock 
 was placed on Calvary with the promise that the 
 gates of hell should not prevail against it. What a 
 glorious promise this is. Enemies have prevailed 
 against Israel's rock of law and sacrifice. Solo- 
 mon's Temple was swept from it. Zerubbabel, after 
 years of toiling, built another which was borne off 
 in a storm. Herod then built one which also fell a 
 prey to enemies. Now for many centuries the Turks 
 have had their temple here. But the promise comes 
 to us that no enemy can sweep the Structure of 
 Truth from the Solid Rock. As long as our faith 
 rests on Him we are safe. 
 
 The Lord's our Rock, in Him we hide, 
 
 A shelter in the time of storm ; 
 
 Secure whatever ill betide, 
 
 A shelter in the time of storm. 
 
 0, Jesus is a Rock in a weary land, 
 
 A shelter in the time of storm; 
 
 Be thou our helper ever near, 
 
 A shelter in the time of storm ; 
 
 0, Jesus *is a Rock in a weary land, 
 
 A shelter in the time of storm. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 IN THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE. 
 
 "Choose thee out a cell 
 
 In Kedron's storied dell, 
 
 Beside the streams of love that never die ; 
 
 Among the olives kneel 
 
 The chill night's blast to feel, 
 
 And watch the moon that saw thy Master's agony." 
 
 We visited the Garden of Gethsemane more than 
 once during our stay of several days in Jerusalem, 
 but in many respects the most impressive visit to 
 me was that made by a few of us at night. The 
 moon was full and the city was still. It seemed to 
 me I had never seen such light from the moon. It 
 was bright and soft as it shone through the clear 
 Syrian atmosphere upon the white limestone rocks 
 and the many historic spots we passed. The night 
 was enchanted and a voice seemed to call from the 
 long gone ages the mighty souls who had lived upon 
 these hills and was marshalling them and their won- 
 drous history before us. We met them in the road 
 and brushed their white garments on the way that 
 night as we made our way to the garden gate. 
 
 Almost overcome with feelings I sat upon a rock. 
 Perhaps there upon one of those rocks my Savior 
 fell prostrate as with breaking heart and white up- 
 turned face he prayed to Heaven, and met single 
 handed all the evil spirits of earth and hell and 
 here upon the world's great decisive battlefield 
 fought to set our souls free from the bondage of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 837 
 
 sin. The troubles of all the souls of earth were 
 pulling his tender heartstrings. The weight of all 
 the hearts of earth were resting on his tender soul. 
 To add to his cup already full there was no sympa- 
 thetic voice to whisper comfort, and no friend's 
 hand to hold His as he went through the flood 
 alone. He trod the wine press alone, and what that 
 awful word means we will never fully know until 
 we see Him face to face. The disciples were sleep- 
 ing and his mother was gone. His was a bitter lone- 
 liness. There is a loneliness that is sweet and sooth- 
 ing and there is a loneliness that breaks the heart 
 and crushes the soul. Oh, to be lonely when the 
 heart is bleeding and the soul is being crucified upon 
 a bitter cross! Then the cold, trembling hand 
 reaches out in the dark for the warm clasp of the 
 hand of a friend ; and then it is the eyes look through 
 the shadows, for the light of a sympathetic face. 
 If only in the darkest hours of trouble we could 
 have the companionship of a sympathetic friend! 
 But so often the hardest battles must be fought in 
 a lonely place where no one can come to help. 
 
 In the awful hours there was a foot fall in the 
 Garden, and a man came stealing cautiously through 
 the shadows of the olive trees. It was one of his 
 disciples. Ah, blessed be the sight of a friend at 
 a time like that! How much lighter it makes the 
 burden. He comes to the prostrate form of the 
 suffering Galilean and speaks to Him, "Hail Mas- 
 ter." The white face looks up at the man. In those 
 eyes shine a light the world had never seen before. 
 It was the light of a Savior's dying love. For a 
 
338 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 moment the man hesitated, and then he stooped and 
 kissed that white face! Ah! beautiful sight of ten- 
 derness and love ! How sweet is the kiss of a friend 
 in the Garden of Trouble ! How comforting to know 
 a friend will seek you out in the shadows of suffer- 
 ing and place a kiss of love and trust upon your 
 face! 
 
 Beautiful act did I say? That kiss was the dark- 
 est act of treacherous infamy ever born in hell. If 
 in all the annals of crimes the devil has found one 
 thing to be ashamed of it is this ! It was the trait- 
 or's kiss instead of the kiss of a friend T It came 
 from one who had been befriended and helped by 
 the Savior. Dark is the night when the hand of a 
 friend becomes the hand of an enemy and thrusts a 
 dagger into the trusting heart of Love! Awful 
 hour when a kiss, that seal of purity and trusting 
 affection has behind it a plot of shame and ruin! 
 And yet how many faces in other places than Geth- 
 semane have received the kiss they thought was 
 love's sweet seal only to learn it was the sign of 
 their sale by the traitor they trusted? 
 
 How that kiss burned the face of Christ with a 
 fire like that of hell itself! Of all the pains and 
 insults heaped upon Him this was the worst of all, 
 but the Savior bore it without a word, nor did he 
 rub off that burning kiss. Then the soldiers came 
 to take Him. Cowards of perdition! They could 
 not, they dared not do it in the day, but chose the 
 night when he was alone and the city was asleep. 
 A whole company of armed soldiers coming to take 
 a lone meek and unarmed Galilean! Wonderful 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 339 
 
 bravery ! In keeping with the reputation of Roman 
 heroism. When they saw his upturned face they 
 fell back in confusion, and well they might! He 
 could have raised His eyes to heaven for help and 
 every stone in Kedron's Valley would have been 
 turned to a soldier to defend Him. That upturned 
 face would have made the Roman Empire tremble 
 and no wonder it startled them. There was a light 
 in that face they had never seen before. There was 
 no resistance there but tenderness and love. And 
 oh, what marks of suffering! Upon the white fea- 
 tures tricked drops of blood instead of sweat ! The 
 agony of the soul had broken his heart and His 
 blood was running out through the pores of His 
 skin. The sight of that face was enough to startle 
 anyone. Then the unexpected happened. Peter 
 who with James and John had been asleep instead 
 of keeping friendly watch as He had expected of 
 them, roused by the noise of their intrusion in their 
 sacred haunt, leaped to his feet with his sword and 
 single handed leaped into the conflict to fight all the 
 cohorts of Rome and defend his Lord. Whatever 
 blame you heap on Peter for sleeping, and later de- 
 nying his Lord and being unstable and impetous 
 you must give him credit for a bravery that few 
 men have. It may be poor judgment to leap single- 
 handed at the throat of Rome for unkindness to a 
 friend, but surely it is the act you do not look for 
 in a coward. But the Lord ordered the sword put 
 up and even stopped to heal the wound that was 
 made, and ever since then the swords that have 
 been drawn have been drawn against His will. Then 
 
840 TRAVELS IK THE OLD WORLD 
 
 they took Him in the night and led him away from 
 the garden he loved, to come back to it no more. 
 
 Great old olive trees are growing in the garden 
 and they are very old. If they are not the trees 
 that witnessed the Savior's agony surely they have 
 grown up from the roots of the ones that did. It 
 was a great event on a night like that a night like 
 the one when He was here to see the moonlight 
 shining through the olives. At other visits we read 
 the account of the Lord's agony in the Gospels; to- 
 night we meditated and prayed while running 
 through our mind were the words : 
 
 "Into the woods my Master went 
 
 Clean forspent, forspent, 
 
 Into the woods my Master came 
 
 Forspent with love and shame. 
 
 But the olive trees were not blind to Him ; 
 
 The little gray leaves were kind to Him ; 
 
 The thorn tree had a mind to Him 
 
 When into the woods He came." 
 
 Who could describe the feelings on a visit like 
 that to Gethsemane? Not even Calvary touched my 
 soul more than this. Sweeter, clearer, stronger 
 came the Master's love to me that night. And the 
 peace that was in my heart as I climbed the hill to 
 Hotel Fast was softer and brighter than the light 
 of the moon that flooded the city that night. There 
 is no money could buy the great privilege of that 
 visit. May its influence ever abide in my soul, and 
 may I have the power to impart some of it to others. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 841 
 
 As we turned from the garden to my room, my soul 
 was singing with the angels : 
 
 "Paschall lamb by God appointed 
 All our sins on thee were laid 
 By Almighty Love anointed 
 Thou hast full atonement made. 
 All thy people are forgiven 
 Through the virtue of thy blood 
 Opened is the gate of heaven ; 
 Peace is made 'twixt me and God." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 BETHLEHEM AND HEBRON. 
 
 "0 little town of Bethlehem, 
 How still we see thee lie ; 
 Above thy deep and dreamless sleep 
 The silent stars go by. 
 Yet in thy dark streets shineth 
 The everlasting light, 
 The hopes and fears of all the years 
 Are met in the night!" 
 
 We took one full day for our drive to Hebron. 
 After an early breakfast, we started for the twenty- 
 mile drive through this historic Southern border of 
 Palestine. 
 
 Our horses turned their faces across the valley 
 of Gihon up that highway toward Bethlehem. Oh, 
 if these stones and hills along this historic road 
 could speak! Who could they tell us they had seen 
 pass along the way our horses went? Abraham, 
 Isaac, Jacob, David, Solomon and armies too many 
 to count. Here is the valley of Rephiam where 
 David fought the Phillestines. 
 
 Yonder is the hill where old Goliath marched up 
 and down letting off steam and defying Israel. 
 David, a shepherd lad, came down to bring his 
 brothers food and taking some stones from the brook 
 yonder he dove one into the head of the bragging 
 giant and brought his proud form to the dust. God 
 uses little people and weak instruments to lay the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 343 
 
 giants low every day. Better throw a small stone, 
 guided by the hand of God, than be a giant with a 
 staff like a weaver's beam and blow off gas for the 
 devil. God will guide our feeble efforts and make 
 them bring down the giants of sin. 
 
 Not far from Jerusalem we passed the Leper Hos- 
 pital and colony where the poor victims of that 
 awful disease are kept until they die. If the earth 
 can produce a more horrible sight than a group of 
 lepers I know not where it would be found. The 
 sight will haunt you for a long time. What a power- 
 ful truth the Bible teaches when it compares sin to 
 leprosy? It is contagious; so is sin. It is loath- 
 some; so is sin. It starts from a little spot and 
 spreads through the system until it destroys the 
 entire being; so does sin. It separates the victim 
 from the congregation, friends and home; so does 
 sin. It is a scourge that could be prevented; so 
 is sin. There is no cure outside of the direct hand 
 of God; so it is with sin. 
 
 They came to us begging for backsheesh, holding 
 up stumps for hands, and crying from lips and 
 throats half destroyed by the ravages of the disease. 
 Their fingers, hands, ears, noses, eyes, palates and 
 other portions of their bodies were eaten away. All 
 stages of the disease were in evidence. Some were 
 almost to the point where death would bring a mer- 
 ciful deliverance, others had yet a long seige of 
 suffering, until their bodies were sufficiently rotted 
 away for the disease to reach the vitals and end 
 their misery. Long will we remember the weird, 
 pathetic cries from half-destroyed vocal organs and 
 
844 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the diseased hands held up for help. There was a 
 time when Jesus walked these hills and with a look, 
 a word, a touch cured these suffering souls. Thank 
 God for the thought that the disease of sin that 
 wrecks bodies and damns souls can now be cured 
 by Him. 
 
 Joseph pointed out to us a well called the "well 
 of the Maji," where the star reappeared to the wise 
 men, and also a monestary built where Elijah slept 
 when fleeing from Jezebel. At least these are spots 
 which tradition ever hungry for spots and places 
 have fixed upon. While of course these places along 
 with many others pointed out are perhaps not exact, 
 yet they do help the mind and heart to call up the 
 great events that did occur very near by. The well 
 of the Maji is surely near the spot where these 
 strange men from the East as they pursued their 
 journey searching for the newborn Savior saw 
 their guiding star returning and welcomed it again. 
 
 And if this monastery is not on the exact spot it 
 is somewhere near here that Elijah overcome with 
 exhaustion, overwork and nervous strain fighting 
 the devil single-handed in the form of Jezebel, 
 Ahab and Baal, came overwhelmed with despond- 
 ency and blues and God sent an angel to find Him 
 and put him to sleep like a loving mother would a 
 worn out child. When the old prophet awoke re- 
 freshed, God first taught him that in our zeal we 
 often get faster and more violent in advancing His 
 kingdom than is best. Thunder, lightning, earth- 
 quake and fire have their uses in the kingdom of 
 God, but His best work is done by the still small 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 345 
 
 voice of the Spirit. When God gave him this lesson 
 he sent him off on a vacation and then sent him to 
 work to help other folks. What a wonderful treat- 
 ment for disordered souls! Communion with God, 
 sleep, food, vacation and work. 
 
 In a few minutes we came to the town where 
 Jesus was born. To the left of us lay the fields of 
 Boaz now, as in days of Ruth's beautiful story, 
 full of harvest. Here the Moabitess Ruth came from 
 miles away clinging to her mother-in-law with those 
 immortal words upon her lips, "Entreat me not to 
 leave thee and return from following after thee; 
 for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou 
 lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall be my people 
 and thy God my God; where thou diest will I die, 
 and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me and 
 more also if aught but death part thee and me." 
 Ruth 1:16-18. Thus leaving her own land she 
 joined the people of God and was rewarded by be- 
 coming an ancestor of Jesus Christ. It was here 
 on these plains, 
 
 "While shepherds watched their flocks by night 
 All seated on the ground, 
 The angel of the Lord came down 
 And glory shone around." 
 
 Little Bethlehem is alive with history of the 
 years. To the right of Bethlehem in sight was the 
 home of Saul. Around here David wrought mightily 
 and drove back the Philistines who beseiged the city. 
 Here still stands the well called "David's well," be- 
 
346 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD . 
 
 cause he liked the water so, and in the thick of a 
 battle nearby one day being thirsty, cried for water, 
 "Oh that one would give me water to drink of the 
 well of Bethlehem that is by the gate." 1 Chr. 11 :17. 
 Three of his mighty men forced the Philistines who 
 then occupied the city and brought the water for 
 their king. But he was so touched he refused to 
 drink it, and poured it out on the ground as an offer- 
 ing to God. On these hills here one day rose a 
 pathetic heart-rending wail from the troubled moth- 
 ers because old Herod sent soldiers to kill all their 
 babies so that Christ whom he dreaded might be in- 
 cluded in the number. "A voice was heard in Ramah 
 weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for 
 her children, and would not be comforted because 
 they were not." Matt. 2 :18. Rachel herself is repre- 
 sented rising from her tomb and weeping over the 
 slaughter of her little ones. 
 
 But all other history of Bethlehem fades away 
 in the light of the one event that will make the little 
 town live forever. It is the birthplace of Jesus. 
 Here heaven and earth came together in the strange 
 blending of God and man in the life of the child 
 Jesus. One day a tired and travel-worn Galilean 
 came over the hills to Bethlehem walking beside 
 his donkey upon which rode his young wife. That 
 journey must have been a hardship to Mary. It 
 took us two hard days driving over good roads from 
 Jerusalem to Nazareth, and Bethlehem is six miles 
 still further. In those days when there were no 
 roads over the rough hills it was a long hard jour- 
 ney for the Virgin. They reached Bethlehem, their 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 347 
 
 native city, and sought shelter, but the hotels were 
 closed to people of such humble station, and the 
 city being crowded on account of all the natives com- 
 ing back to their tribe center to be taxed they 
 sought the quarters where the cattle lived, a thing 
 the humble classes do even now, many of them liv- 
 ing in the tents and caves with the animals. "There 
 was no room for Him in the inn" (Luke 2:7). And 
 there has not been much room since for when the 
 world, the flesh and the devil have been accommo- 
 dated at the hotels there is not much room left for 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 That night to the tired woman away from her 
 home in these humble surroundings came that 
 heaven-sent Visitation that left in her arms her first- 
 born child. Like babyhood has always done, the 
 child's little blue eyes looked into the face of His 
 mother. And like motherhood has always done, 
 Mary looked into the face of her little one, and as 
 she looked the eternal fires of motherlove were burn- 
 ing in the heart and the light that first burned in 
 Heaven was shining in her eyes. As she looked up- 
 on her baby's face as mothers have always done, she 
 took those little hands in hers and wondered what 
 in the providence of God those hands would do out 
 in the world some day. And as she felt the beat 
 of the baby's heart, as mothers have always done, 
 she wondered what that heart would bear and do 
 in the battle of the world. Strange things had 
 been said of her child and motherlike "she kept all 
 those things and pondered them in her heart." 
 
 Nobody can ever tell the possibilities that lie hid- 
 
348 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 den in a baby's little hand and brain and heart, 
 for all the mighty men of the race were once help- 
 less little bundles of infancy with no power to lift 
 their heads and hands and with no language but 
 a cry. But who dared to dream that night what lay 
 before Mary's child? Those little lips would speak 
 the Sermon on the Mount, that would live when 
 Roman Royalty had gone to dust. Down by blue 
 Galilee they would speak parables of light and 
 life to thrill souls for all time. They would 
 rebuke disease, sin and even death and at their re- 
 buke these monsters that had cursed the world 
 so long would sneak away. They would cause words 
 of comfort and peace for troubled hearts in 
 all lands and for all time. That little throbbing 
 heart that made his mother's heart so glad when 
 she saw it was living, would bear the weight of all 
 the world's sin and shame in Gethsemane and break 
 and bleed in sacrificial love to bring a lost world 
 back to God. Those little hands and feet would be 
 nailed to the cross, but those same nails would for- 
 ever fasten a lost world to the loving heart of God 
 so strong that no storms could tear it away. It is 
 best mothers never know what is before the help- 
 less little ones as they go down into the valley of 
 death to bring them up the hills of life. 
 
 Strange visitors were there to welcome Him to 
 the new world into which He had come, but none 
 there understood that those little hands resting in 
 His mother's helped God make the world, hang up 
 the stars and strike the spark of life. Mary looking 
 on was Love. The cattle standing by was Nature. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 349 
 
 Then the wise men from afar came to look on His 
 face, lay down their gifts and go back over the hills 
 rejoicing. This was Wisdom. Then the shepherds 
 came to behold Him who was to be the shepherd of 
 us all. This was Labor. Then the angels hovered 
 over as they do at every cradle, and that was 
 Heaven. But there was another visitor. Out in the 
 shadows sneaked the Devil, for he never sees mother- 
 love looking in the face of a new-born child that he 
 does not march about that scene with the tramp and 
 tread of hell and set the blackest spirits he can find 
 to the task of blighting that picture if he can. 
 Especially was his eyes on this baby, and back to 
 hell he went to perfect a plot as black as the walls 
 of perdition, to destroy the life of the baby in 
 Mary's arms. Those were the representatives about 
 the manger watching the sleeping child, Love, 
 Nature, Wisdom, Heaven, Labor, Satan. 
 
 These were the thoughts that came to me as I 
 stood in the Church of the Nativity, and these 
 thoughts outshone the light of the Roman, Greek, 
 Armenian and Catholic altars with their burning 
 candles and sullen priests here in the place said to 
 mark the birthspot of my Savior. So much ab- 
 sorbed was I in these thoughts and the pictures that 
 arose before me that I scarcely noticed the room 
 in which Jerome spent his years translating the 
 Scriptures, nor did I listen long to the story of Joseph 
 that the Turkish soldiers we saw were there to keep 
 the priests from killing one another. Religious 
 hatred here where the Christ of Peace was born, is 
 so strong that not long ago they fought to a bloody 
 
350 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 finish and left nine dead bodies near the place where 
 the manger was. These things, along with all the 
 tinsel glitter, musty air and incense of the super- 
 stitious creeds that built their gloomy church over 
 the spot mattered little to me. This was where 
 Jesus, my Savior, was born, the first Christmas gift 
 to the world. My heart went back to that day when 
 the gift of His Peace and Love came into the world. 
 We visited other spots in Bethlehem and found 
 the people more kindly disposed toward us, and 
 with all better looking and brighter than we had 
 seen. Mission work has told on the people here. 
 After finishing our visit we turned our faces south- 
 ward toward Hebron. On this journey we had a 
 fine opportunity to see the life of Palestine as it is 
 to-day. Sheep and goats by the thousand were graz- 
 ing on the hills; large black lizards, over a foot long, 
 were sleeping in the sun ; caravans of loaded camels, 
 were coming and going along the road and paths; 
 fierce looking Bedowin wanderers were passing and 
 repassing us; women with big rings in their ears 
 and noses and water jars and other burdens on 
 their heads were journeying to and fro. Here and 
 there the threshers were treading out the grain. Far 
 and wide the gray and green of the olive trees glis- 
 tened in the blazing sun that poured from a cloud- 
 less sky. We passed two or three wells where women 
 were washing their clothes. They drew up some 
 water in a goat skin and poured enough on the gar- 
 ments to wet them. Then putting them on one 
 stone they beat them with another. Then they 
 poured on a little more water, wrung out the gar- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 351 
 
 ments and spread them on the grass to dry. We 
 tried to take a picture of one of these laundries, but 
 only succeeded in bringing down upon us a rain of 
 condemnation from the women who assaulted us 
 with unknown tongues and threatened to cast stones 
 at us. It is bad enough to have a woman quarrel at 
 you when you understand what she is saying, but it 
 is beyond all endurance when she expresses her 
 opinion of you with fire in her eye and you don't 
 know a word she says. But I didn't blame the wo- 
 men for not wanting their pictures taken in their 
 present poses. It showed they had womanhood in 
 them to resent it. What woman would want to have 
 her picture taken without a chance to comb her hair 
 and peep in a mirror? 
 
 About nine miles from Jerusalem we came to the 
 Pools of Solomon, which that great king built nearly 
 three thousand years ago for the purpose of sup- 
 plying Jerusalem with water. This provided a 
 water system which would be considered first-class 
 today, and in those days must have been a wonder 
 of the world. There are three of the pools or reser- 
 voirs, each one being below the level of the other. 
 There were strong springs or fountains in the hills 
 which ran into the first until it was full, then it 
 over ran into the second until it was full and the 
 second overflowed into the third. From the third 
 pool the water was conducted to Jerusalem through 
 a covered flume built of stone, like a mill race 
 around the hills. These pools are well built on a 
 massive scale, and are in a good state of preserva- 
 tion. The lowest is the largest, being six hundred 
 
352 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 feet long and two hundred feet broad. The second 
 pool is four hundred feet long and two hundred feet 
 broad. The upper one is five hundred feet long and 
 two hundred feet broad. The capacity of these 
 three pools was about ninety million gallons. 
 
 From the pools we continued our journey south- 
 ward to the valley supposed to be Eschol, the place 
 visited by the spies who came to bring the waiting 
 Israel a report of the land. From this valley they 
 carried back wonderful samples of the land's fruit- 
 fulness, among them a great cluster of grapes two 
 bore on a staff between them. The valley was full 
 of vineyards and heavy laden with grapes as we 
 went through it. 
 
 The end of our southern journey was Hebron, 
 one of the most noted places in all the land of Israel. 
 This is a sacred city to Mohammedan, Jew and 
 Christian. Here Abraham lived and reared his 
 family, and here the Father of the Faithful and his 
 family are buried. Here David was anointed 
 king and at first had his capital during the seven 
 years he was king over Judah, moving to Jerusalem 
 when he became king over all the tribes. Hebron 
 comes down to us through an unbroken history 
 since the settlement by Abraham. It was occupied 
 by Abraham's descendants without a break until 
 twelve hundred years ago, when it was occupied by 
 the Turks, who have held it ever since. The mean- 
 ing of the name is something like "confederation" 
 or "society," and it took the name because it was 
 the home of Abraham, who received the greatest 
 honorary degree ever given to man, "The Friend of 
 
Mount Calvary. Scene of the Crucifixion. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 353 
 
 God." With Abraham and God living on terms of 
 united friendship, how fitting to name the old patri- 
 arch's home Hebron or "Society," and what a 
 society it was ! How far it outshone all the society 
 the mighty of the earth have ever invented ! 
 
 We ate our lunch in the shade of the oak of Mamre, 
 where Abraham entertained the angels. We turned 
 to the eighteenth chapter of Genesis and read: 
 "And the Lord appeared unto him by the oaks of 
 Mamre (Mamre means vision, and what a vision 
 Abraham must have received here!), as he sat in 
 the tent door in the heat of the day." It was the 
 heat of the day oppressive heat when we were 
 here and sat in the shade of the oaks. The tent 
 was a tent of goats skins, and we imagined it was 
 just there before us. "And he lifted up his eyes 
 and looked, and lo, three men stood over against 
 him; and when he saw them he ran to meet them 
 from the tent door and bowed himself to the earth 
 and said, My lord, if now I have found favor in 
 thy sight pass not away I pray thee from thy ser- 
 vant; let now a little water be fetched and wash 
 your feet and rest yourselves under the tree, and I 
 will fetch a morsel of bread, and strengthen ye your 
 hearts." 
 
 The old tree, worn and shaken by the storms, 
 there before us, is said by wise men to be the tree. 
 Others claim it would be an impossibility for a tree 
 to stand so long if the hand of man would let it 
 alone. It is a very old tree one of the oldest to 
 be seen anywhere. Its main trunk has died away 
 from age, and on one side of it another tree is grow- 
 
354 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ing. If this is not the real tree that has died away- 
 more than once that a new branch might grow on 
 from its dead body, it is surely near the place be- 
 fore us where the Patriarch did entertain the three 
 angels who had come as messengers from heaven 
 to tell him his wife should bear a son. The angels 
 also brought with the joyous message, one of sad- 
 ness, as God's messengers often do. Sodom, the 
 wicked city where Lot had gone, would soon be de- 
 stroyed from the earth. 
 
 It was at this point the Prophet of God rose to 
 the highest point his character had reached, and 
 only once did it go beyond that, and the time was 
 when, on the road to Moriah, he went to lay on the 
 altar of Jehovah his only son. Out there some- 
 where before us, near that old oak, the old man 
 fell in the dust, and turning his anxious face up 
 to God, threw his soul out to God in such a chal- 
 lenge of intercessory prayer as the world has sel- 
 dom witnessed. It is no sign of greatness for a 
 man to pray for himself in the face of danger. The 
 smallest and the meanest do that. But it is a sign 
 of greatness for a man to throw himself between 
 another sinner who has wronged him and divine 
 judgment, and with a mighty faith and pleading 
 prayer stay the hand of Judgment ! 
 
 One day out there the young man and the old 
 man stood gazing over the hills. The forks of the 
 road had come, as it always does, to the old and 
 young. Henceforth their ways must go upart, as 
 ways so often must. The old man told the young 
 man to take his choice. One road led through the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 355 
 
 hills, rough, rugged and sometimes bare; the other 
 led over the hills to the plains so black and rich. 
 The fields were heavy with harvest and the people 
 gay with life. As the young man gazed first along 
 the hillside road and then the river road, a woman 
 came as women often do to help him make his 
 choice. Her hand was trembling as she caught his 
 arm, and her breath went hot upon his face as she 
 whispered in his ear for him to take the river road. 
 Its luxury called her; its society lured her more 
 than the society of the old man and his angels. 
 No man ever rose to heights of success or fell to 
 depths of ruin that there was not somewhere in 
 the shadows nearby a woman whose hand did its 
 helping. 
 
 The young man took the River Road as young 
 men often do and turned his back on the old man 
 as young men often do. Youth gets tired of being 
 bothered and bored with old age, but sad is the 
 day for youth when it turns away from age and 
 thinks it needs it no more. The young man pitched 
 his tent toward Sodom. No he had no notion of go- 
 ing there, but the river road was a downward road 
 as it always is and on a downward road we never 
 know just where we can stop. He lived near the city 
 and with his flocks and herds went into the dairy 
 and meat business with the city people. His family 
 got a taste of city society and grew tired of the 
 suburban life. So one day Mrs. Lot and the girls de- 
 cided on a fine home on Society Boulevard and they 
 moved in. The girls became society favorites and 
 daughters-in-law of Sodom. Mr. Lot was elected to 
 
356 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the town council, and often in their home on the 
 avenue and going to and from society functions, 
 they smiled in joy and blessed the day they left the 
 country to come to the city and wondered how the 
 old man fared, whose old-time notions kept him 
 in the hills. What greater society advantages had 
 they in the city of Sodom, over the old man alone 
 in his tent in the hills with his immaginary (?) 
 angels ! Yet the old man's home was Hebron, which 
 meant society yes, Society Hill and what a society 
 it was ! In his tent he dined with angels. But peo- 
 ple have different tastes. Some prefer Sodomites 
 to angels ! 
 
 Back in the hills the old man met God with 
 promises in his hand. And in the light of those 
 promises the old man lived and died. But the old 
 man never forgot the young man; he missed him 
 and he prayed for him. Any young man is to be 
 pitied who goes to the city and has no old man in 
 the hills who closes his eyes and turns his face 
 heavenward in prayer for him. When the storm 
 came, it was the old man back in the hills 
 who saved the young man down in the city as he 
 came, white-faced and weak from his agonizing 
 prayer. Even his prayers did not save the young 
 man's wife and the characters of his daughters. 
 
 These thoughts r]an through our minds as we 
 lunched that day under the shade of the oaks of 
 Mamre, and when we finished our lunch we went 
 to the grove where Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Re- 
 becca and Jacob are buried. There is no doubt 
 about the locality. The Turks for over a thousand 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 357 
 
 years have guarded it and if a foreigner's foot 
 crosses the line, the price they pay is death. It gives 
 one strange feelings to stand at the grave of these 
 great saints. And yet I thought that their souls 
 were not here. Abraham had been seen in heavenly 
 company. He who had angels for his company in 
 life, surely now is with them in the Better Land ! 
 
 In front of Abraham's tomb is a Mohammedan 
 cemetary, the dreariest place on earth ; no flowers or 
 plants ; no inscriptions ; just bleak, barren mud-cov- 
 ered graves, with mud-made head stones as gloomy 
 as the Turks can make them. Nowhere is the super- 
 stition, degradation and filth of the Turk more in 
 evidence than here about the tomb of Abraham. 
 Strange Abraham, The Friend of God, should rest 
 in the midst of all this shame, while the heathenish 
 Turks control his tomb. 
 
 In 1921 we secured photos of the interior of Abra- 
 ham's tomb, the first ever taken. After the fall of 
 the Turks in 1918 the Mohammedans became more 
 lenient and now with proper pull and backshish you 
 may enter this sacred tomb. 
 
 On this trip we met Rev. Mr. Forder, a Wesleyan 
 Methodist missionary in Jerusalem. He gave twenty- 
 five years of heroic service to the Mohammedans in 
 the Land of Moab, working under awful persecutions, 
 but delivered by God in ways truly miraculous. The 
 way the country was finally opened to him and he 
 won the hearts of the people was touching in the ex- 
 treme. His baby fell sick and died. They buried the 
 little one in that far away strange land, the father the 
 
358 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 undertaker, the mother the chief mourner. The peo- 
 ple gathered in great numbers to see them give their 
 child Christian burial, so different from that they 
 gave their children. The people seemed greatly 
 touched and the next day a native came to the house 
 of the misisonary bringing a little lamb in his arms, 
 with the story that it was customary among their 
 people, when parents lost a little one, for another 
 mother who had a baby to lend the bereaved mother 
 her own child, so that in her aching loneliness she 
 might give her affection to the borrowed child and 
 gradually accustom herself to her sorrow. As his 
 wife had no child to send they had brought the lamb 
 and wanted Mrs. Forder to give her time and de- 
 votion in caring for the lamb, thus easing the bur- 
 den of her sorrow and loneliness. Thus the burial 
 of the missionary's baby in that strange land opened 
 the hearts of the people that had been sealed so hard 
 and this beautiful instance shows that beyond the 
 outer walls of superstition and evil there is a hu- 
 man heart after all that speaks the universal lan- 
 guage of the soul. These and many other examples 
 show that with an apostolic ministry the gospel of 
 Christ can break even the walls of Mohammedanism 
 and win those imprisoned souls to God. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 JERICHO, THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 "A certain man went down from Jerusalem to 
 Jericho." If he grot there he certainly went down, 
 for the descent from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea 
 just beyond, is four thousand feet in a distance of 
 about twenty-five miles, being an average of one 
 hundred and sixty feet fall to the mile that the road 
 must make. 
 
 Unfortunately, our journey was on about the hot- 
 est day of the summer. The wind was from the 
 hot sands of the desert, and felt as if it was blown 
 from a hot stove. The scorching sun beat down 
 from a sky that offered nothing to temper its heat, 
 but our spirits were as warm as the sun, and we 
 made the journey with success and happiness. 
 
 Our first stop was Bethany, the home of Lazarus 
 and his sisters, Martha and Mary. We visited the 
 supposed spot where they lived and the tomb from 
 which Jesus called Lazarus from death to life. In 
 all the life of Jesus there is nothing more tender 
 and touching than his connection with this home. 
 It brings out the homelike nature of the Lord, and 
 shows the kind of a friend and guest He was. Who 
 can tell what He meant to this home and its three 
 members, and who can tell what this home meant 
 to Him ? What will be their reward for giving Him 
 a home when God makes up the count? The Mas- 
 ter appreciated this home, for He did not have an- 
 other like it. 
 
360 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 Fresh to my mind came that beautiful eleventh 
 chapter of John as we stood in Bethany. It has 
 long been one of my favorite chapters, so full of 
 real every day living interest and touches of heart 
 and soul! I had often preached from it and tried 
 to carry its message to the troubled and the strug- 
 gling. Now it was a privilege to read it here in 
 Bethany, and see the scene before me. One day 
 over on the Jordan in a crowd, a man pressed in 
 and said, "He whom thou lovest is sick." Of course 
 that message would touch Him. Who has not felt 
 the force of it in his own heart? "It was that Mary 
 who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped 
 His feet with her hair whose brother, Lazarus, was 
 sick." Yes, all the tender things they ever did for 
 us come up before us when they are going through 
 the shadows. 
 
 Then a strange thing happens. "He abode two 
 days in the place where He was." Over there be- 
 yond Jordan two days busy with other folks, and, 
 his friend sick and dying, and these sisters broken- 
 hearted. Why doesn't He come ? Why does He wait 
 so long? Why is His program, with its dates and 
 numbers, not like mine ? But we went over a verse. 
 "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Laza- 
 rus." Oh. that is the keynote to all the storms of 
 fife! If he loves us He will come maybe not at 
 the time we set, nor in the manner we desire but 
 in His own way and in His own time, He will come. 
 Jesus turned His face toward that home. It mat- 
 tered not that His disciples warned Him of pre- 
 vious plots to take His life back there. He would 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 361 
 
 not let any danger deter Him when His friends 
 were in trouble. He came walking, for He seemed 
 to go that way over burning sands up steep hills, 
 over rough places facing dangers and enemies for 
 about thirty-five miles to help His troubled friends. 
 Beautiful picture! And is it not true with us? 
 Does He ever fail to come to help us in our trouble 
 when we send for Him? Martha met Him down 
 the road there before us, and "Mary sat still in the 
 house." Trouble dazes and crushes some hearts, so 
 that all they can do is to sit still in the house, while 
 it drives others out down the road to meet the Lord. 
 Jesus looked on them; on the grave and the heart- 
 less mourners wailing around and "Jesus wept." 
 Shortest verse in the whole Bible, but what a mean- 
 ing. Why did he weep, Not from despair, or 
 mourning. Maybe because of His sympathy for them 
 and because death had come into the world, but 
 surely because of the way they looked at death and 
 His relation to it. "I am the resurrection and the 
 life, whosoever liveth and believeth on Me shall never 
 die." It was because their hearts did not take in 
 this that He was weeping. Then He called his 
 friend forth from the grave and turned him over to 
 his loved ones. What if one would come to the ceme- 
 tery to do that for us to-day? He is coming to do 
 it tomorrow ! Blessed be the thought ! 
 
 On down the road which is very good, we drove 
 toward Jericho. It was the way of the wilderness, 
 and a more barren desolation would be hard to find. 
 No house or tent did we see until about half way 
 we came to a rock house called "The Good Samari- 
 
362 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 tan Inn" because it is reported here was where the 
 poor fellow fell among thieves. There is no doubt 
 about the genuineness of the place, for there are 
 many who claim the distinction of falling among 
 thieves along here most any time, although we 
 escaped because our party was too large and our 
 guides and drivers too well armed for the sneaking 
 cowards to attempt to harm us. We saw a number 
 of them walking the road and sneaking along the 
 ravines. In traveling these roads you must go pro- 
 tected or you can pay the Turkish authorities a 
 ransom and they will divide with the thieves and 
 you can go through unharmed. 
 
 We stopped awhile and refreshed ourselves and 
 the horses at the "Good Samaritan Inn." It is occu- 
 pied by kindly-looking Arabian sons of the out-of- 
 doors who treated us with politeness and considera- 
 tion. After doing all they could for our comfort 
 at a reasonable price they favored us with the Bedo- 
 win dance given in honor of our party. I don't 
 know how it compared with other dances, for I am 
 not up on that form of depravity, but I don't think 
 I want to see another one. The music was from 
 drums made with a sheepskin on a pitcher, and 
 bones whch caused a continual din that strained 
 the eardrums. The dancers were men who carried 
 their bodies through many contortions, and made 
 many grimaces and muttered many things. But 
 the chief feature of it all was the way they handled 
 the long, sharp swords. They flourished them about 
 their heads; dangled them upon their fingers, and 
 whizzed them around and around, cutting the air 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 363 
 
 so close to our heads and ears that we felt our- 
 selves wiping the blood away. As we bobbed our 
 heads to save our scalps, it seemed to amuse them 
 more than it did us. 
 
 The last six or eight miles of our journey was 
 through the plain so rich that if it was irrigated 
 it would feed all that end of the world. It was 
 here Sodom and Gomorrah, cities of the plain were 
 destroyed for their wickedness and so complete 
 was the destruction that nobody has ever located 
 them. Some great volcanic earthquake must have 
 destroyed the cities and changed things so as to 
 form the Dead Sea and curse the land with salt and 
 other solutions. The Dead Sea is in this plain. It 
 is thirteen hundred feet below the level of the sea 
 and at its deepest point is said to be almost as deep. 
 
 A few of us took a bath in the Dead Sea. We 
 waded out into it as far as we could wade and then 
 we waded further. Being the heaviest salt solu- 
 tion on the earth you cannot possibly sink in it. 
 You can lie on your back and sleep and read float- 
 ing about like a boat. If you stand up your feet 
 will rise so high, pushing your body out of the 
 water until you will fall on your head, getting your 
 eyes, mouth and ears full of the water which is very 
 unpleasant and painful. All you have to do is to 
 tread water enough to keep your head out of it. 
 The bath was delightful. No surf bathing I have 
 ever experienced was equal to it, but after it was 
 over trouble came. The salt and other solutions be- 
 gan to burn the skin and run about on it like grease. 
 We felt as if we had been rubbed with red pepper 
 and anointed with melted lard. 
 
364 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 The Dead Sea is a beautiful body of water not- 
 withstanding things that have been said about it. 
 It is so clear that pebbles can be seen twenty feet 
 deep. It has a beautiful sandy shore covered with 
 pebbles, on which ebbs and flows a little tide. It 
 is fifty-three miles long with an average width of 
 ten miles. There is no life in it. No fish swims 
 its waters, and all that are carried in by the Jordan 
 soon die. We saw some dead fish floating on the 
 waters. No living thing lives on its waves or along 
 its shore. Beyond the sea high and rugged rose the 
 blue hills of Moab, the land of Ruth. Further up 
 the hills rose Pisgah and Mt. Nebo, where with an 
 angel for an undertaker the Great Moses was laid 
 to rest after looking over into the Promised land to- 
 ward which he had so long been leading his people 
 and into which he was not permitted to enter. 
 
 Back behind us rose the hill upon which Jeru- 
 salem sat and the green slopes of the Mount of 
 Olives. As I stood there listening to the waves of 
 the Dead Sea that washed the sands at my feet, my 
 mind was calling up the tragic history enacted upon 
 this plain as a theater. The scene was preaching 
 great sermons to my soul. The cities of sin were 
 gone, as they all must go. Where once surged the 
 gay and sinful life of these rich cities of the plain 
 now was desolaton and death. The river Jordan 
 journeying through the hills of Canaan poured a 
 great volume of fresh water into the Dead Sea, while 
 from the hills of Moab lesser streams did likewise. 
 This old sea swallowed it all and gave out nothing 
 but desolation and death. It has no outlet save from 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 365 
 
 evaporation. In spite of all the fresh water it drinks 
 up it is never made fresh or sweet. 
 
 How like many lives is this sea? They devour all 
 the rivers of life and blessings that flow into them 
 from the hills of God and they give out nothing but 
 poison and death. No life is in them or about them 
 save the life of their own stagnated selfishness. All 
 their ambition has been to get blessings and they 
 have never heard God's command to Israel to "be a 
 blessing." They are like one of our great Million- 
 aires who undertook a few years ago to make a 
 Sunday-school speech. He spoke of all the blessings 
 he had received and said, "I have just been a 
 sponge, drinking in blessings from God." Poor old 
 sponge! How many there are in the world, just ab- 
 sorbing all about them and holding it until the life 
 is squeezed out of them. They are Dead Seas drink- 
 ing in all the blessings of God's rivers and turning 
 them to salt. He must have been a sponge or he 
 would not have said so. And yet what a reputation ! 
 What an accomplishment ! An old sponge ! How we 
 detest and abhor them ! What must God think of the 
 sponges and Dead Seas in the human souls of this 
 earth? 
 
 Leaving the Dead Sea we crossed the plain to 
 Jericho where in the Jordan hotel we lodged after 
 visiting the places of interest about the town. 
 It would be hard to find a more desolate and filthy 
 town than modern Jericho with its little black mud- 
 huts where on the dirt floors live people, donkeys, 
 goats, chickens, dogs and smaller fry, too numerous 
 to mention. The name means fragrance, but it is 
 
366 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 hoped the fragrance used to be better than it is now. 
 What a contrast between the present appearance 
 and that in the days of all its royal glory when it 
 was known far and wide as the City of Palm Trees 
 and was the winter resort of Herod, who leased it 
 from Cleopatra who received it as a gift from Mark 
 Anthony. 
 
 What a history Jericho has! That night after 
 a good supper I was unable to sleep from the flood 
 of history that beat at my door along with the jack- 
 alls howling under our window and the salt crusts 
 over my body and an oily substance that came from 
 the Dead Sea bath (which could not be washed off 
 for lack of water) along with scorching heat and 
 other "little things." So I reviewed before me the 
 history of the scenes old Jericho had known as I 
 lay awake. 
 
 Great and beautiful was this city of continual 
 summertime. It marked the first battle of Israel 
 after their entrance into the borders of their Pro- 
 mised Land. Seven times about the walls the host 
 marched and then blew their ram's horns and God 
 threw down the city walls. Rahab was saved by a 
 scarlet thread in her window because she had cared 
 for the spies who came to view the land. I could 
 almost hear the blast of the ram's horns. Here Zac- 
 cheus lived and somewhere nearby he climbed a 
 sycamore tree. Not our kind of a sycamore but a 
 tree whose limbs run near the ground and can be 
 easily climbed. Jesus called him down from the tree 
 where he had placed himself to get a view of Christ 
 and he seems to have been converted between the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 367 
 
 tree and the ground. Here Jesus healed the two 
 blind men recorded in Matt. 20 :29-34. 
 
 The most interesting thing in Jericho to me was 
 Elisha's Fountain. It is a large fountain or spring 
 running out of a little hill with a stream strong 
 enough to turn a mill. The surrounding country is 
 supplied with water from this spring. All the 
 rest of the water is brackish and this alone 
 pure and sweet. The water runs a short distance 
 and is swallowed up by the plain, but it shows what 
 the country would be if it was watered. A beautiful 
 oasis springs up about this spring. This fountain 
 is conceded by Bible scholars to be the fountain Eli- 
 sha healed with salt. 2 Ki. 2:19:22. "Thus saith 
 the Lord, I have healed these waters ; there shall be 
 from henceforth no more death." And ever since 
 this spring has been sweet and the others brackish. 
 
 Just beyond Jericho rise high mountains and the 
 wilderness. It was perhaps there Jesus met his 
 forty days' temptation after his baptism in the 
 Jordan nearby. A projecting pinnacle is pointed 
 out as the place where the devil took the Savior 
 and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and 
 the glories of them and offered them to Him for 
 His allegiance. In the fertility and richness of this 
 vast plain at that time it was a beautiful picture 
 that met the eye from that mountain. But what 
 was all the glories of the plain and its cities to Him 
 who came to lay down His life for the world? It 
 stirred my heart to think there in those hills my 
 Savior faced the devil alone and weak from hun- 
 ger for forty days to show us how to be victorious 
 
368 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 in temptation. Then came the blessed thought that 
 when he was victorious and the devil left Him 
 angels came and ministered to Him. They always do. 
 We visited the Jordan before our return to Jeru- 
 salem, and meditated on its banks on the history 
 it has known. Wonderful river! What could these 
 banks tell if they would? Near here Jesus was 
 baptized by John the Baptist. Near here Israel, 
 after forty years of wilderness wandering, crossed 
 the flood into their long Promised Land, with 
 only two of those who started from Egypt. How 
 their hearts must have swelled with joy and peace 
 as they crossed the river with the water standing 
 up on either side and set foot upon the shores of 
 Canaan! As they left Egypt, the land of bondage, 
 the waters stood up and left a path for them and 
 then rolled together behind them. Now at the end 
 of forty years of trial the waters part again to let 
 them pass over and enter their promised land. We 
 bathed in Jordan's waters, and let our hearts roll 
 on with its tide through the hills and the years. 
 Some day we would stand upon the banks of another 
 river on the shores of our Promised Land for which 
 we had been marching and struggling through a 
 wilderness for many years. Then there came ring- 
 ing through our souls the old hymn we heard across 
 the seas back home. From our earliest days we 
 had heard it from happy souls who caught a vision 
 of the other land. Many lips that had sung that 
 hymn were hushed and many souls that had 
 been thrilled by it have passed over the river 
 and are resting under the shade of the trees. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 369 
 
 So on Jordan's banks that day as the sun was going: 
 down beyond the hills of Judea we sang : 
 
 On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, 
 
 And cast a wishful eye 
 To Canaan's fair and happy land, 
 
 Where my possessions lie. 
 
 the transporting, rapturous scene 
 
 That rises to me sight ! 
 Sweet fields arrayed in living green, 
 
 And rivers of delight! 
 
 O'er all those wide extended plains 
 
 Shines one eternal day; 
 There God the sun forever reigns 
 
 And scatters night away. 
 
 No chilling winds or poisonous breath, 
 Can reach that healthful shore ; 
 
 Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, 
 Are felt and feared no more. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 OVER THE HILLS TO NAZARETH. 
 
 Early in the morning of July 13th we drove out 
 from the Damascus Gate and turned our faces over 
 the hills toward the north, for the journey of eighty 
 miles to Lake Galilee. We paused a little while for 
 a parting view of Jerusalem and the hills about it. 
 Our parting gave us a sad feeling. The several 
 days we spent in the Holy City had drawn us to it 
 and it made us sad to go. The rising sun over Oli- 
 vet was filling the city and hills with light. Cal- 
 vary, where Jesus died, lay barren in the sun. We 
 cast a last look upon that hill and then on Olivet 
 and Gethsemane as /the carriages swung around a 
 curve in the road and left the vison behind us. 
 
 We stopped at Mizpah. Here was one of the points 
 where Samuel judged (1 Sam. 7:16) and here Saul 
 was crowned king (1 Sam. 10 :17) . It was near here 
 after Israel had defeated the Philistines Samuel set 
 up a stone and called the place Ebenezer, which 
 means "the Lord helps us." From this stone many 
 churches in our own land received their name, and 
 at many an old Ebenezer souls have been happy in 
 the Lord. We also passed Nob, and Ramah where 
 Samuel lived and where Jeremiah was cast in prison. 
 We next came to Elbirah, said to be the place where 
 the parents of Jesus first missed him, after they left 
 Him in Jerusalem. We also passed Ai where Abra- 
 ham once had his tent and where Joshua won such a 
 great battle over enemies of Israel. 
 
Our road also took us by Shiloh, noted because 
 here the tabernacle was pitched and Israel camped. 
 We tried to imagine how the scene looked. Also 
 this was the seat of government of Israel at one 
 time, and here the priest, Eli, lived and died. Here 
 little Samuel was dedicated to God and began his 
 service in the tabernacle and heard the voice of 
 God call him in the night telling him what his work 
 was to be. Here at Shiloh the trbies were gathered 
 together. (Josh. 22). On this days' journey no 
 place touched me more than Bethel. This pile of 
 ruins has much rich history mingled with its dust. 
 Abraham built an altar here and worshipped his 
 God; here Joshua fought a great battle and won a 
 victory for God and Israel; here Deborah judged 
 Israel and closed out her eventful life; here the 
 tabernacle was pitched; here Jereboam established 
 idolatrous worship; here was the school of the 
 prophets ; and here the children mocked Elisha and 
 the bears came out and devoured them. But Bethel 
 is not noted for any of these events as much as it is 
 for something else. 
 
 Here one day came a lone and way-worn traveler 
 at the close of the day. No house in sight he ate a 
 little bread and drank a little water from the small 
 store he carried with him and laying his tired head 
 on a hard rock he slept on the ground with the stars 
 for a shelter above him. It was a dark and lonely 
 time for him. He had been driven from home by 
 trouble with his brother. His mother's diplomacy 
 was sending him to her people to seek for a wife. 
 To-night he was not only troubled with his own 
 
872 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 sin, but lonely on account of absence from his mother 
 who petted him and his father who loved him. 
 In that lone place that night God let down a ladder 
 from Heaven and sent angels down its shining steps 
 to comfort and help the lone and troubled traveler, 
 as He will always do. So Jacob received a blessing, 
 and learned that there was no place so lonely 
 but that it was at the very gate of Heaven if we 
 but knew it. He set up an altar to God and made 
 a vow that if God would stand by him and bring 
 him home in peace, he would be loyal to God and of 
 all God gave him he would give back a tenth. He 
 then changed the name of the place from Luz to 
 Bethel which means House of God, and wherever 
 the Gospel has been preached others have built God 
 a house and called it Bethel until we can hardly find 
 a community that hasn't a church by that name. 
 
 We lunched that day at a place by the name of 
 Sabbonah. Our horses ate some food and we ate 
 our lunch and drank some water from the well that 
 was there. A large and mixed assembly gathered 
 about that well. The maidens were there getting 
 water for home use and some were washing their 
 clothes. Our party of fifty Americans was there 
 trying to get a drink; our Turkish drivers were 
 there trying to water their two dozen horses; and 
 from over the hills came armies of goats and sheep 
 to get their noon-day drink. The scramble and 
 clatter of this mixed host will hardly be forgotten. 
 
 A study of the shepherd life of Palestine and its 
 relation to Bible teaching is very interesting. In 
 the morning the shepherds can be seen on a thou- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 373 
 
 sand hills leading their flocks forth in search of 
 good pastures. He inspects the pasture that there 
 may be no poisonous weeds, snakes or wild beasts 
 hiding there to damage his flock. The sheep know 
 his voice and follow him. He does not drive them 
 but leads them. He carries his club to defend the 
 sheep and his staff with the shepherd's crook. With 
 this he lifts up those that fall down and guides those 
 who go astray back in the right path. At noon he 
 takes them to water, "He leadeth me beside the still 
 waters." He pours it from the well into a stone drink- 
 ing trough so they can drink it or if it is a little 
 stream, dams it with dirt that it may be still and 
 deep enough for them to drink. At night he leads 
 them to the fold, made of a rock wall that pro- 
 tects them. Standing at the entrance he inspects 
 every sheep as it goes in. If one is faint he pours 
 water from his waterbag into the cup that is tied 
 to his belt and lets the sheep drink from his own 
 cup. "My cup runneth over." If the ears, heads 
 and legs are hurt from the briars and flies, he pours 
 on the healing, soothing olive oil from his cruse. 
 "Thou anointest my head with oil." As you see 
 these pictures every day and everywhere in Pales- 
 tine it throws a flood of light on the twenty-third 
 psalm and the tenth chapter of John. 
 
 In the afternoon we came to Sychar and viewed 
 the tomb of Joseph. His body is there embalmed 
 with Egypt's art and some day will be viewed, when 
 the Turks are driven out. Near here out on the 
 plain is Jacob's Well. Jacob dug this well and used 
 it for himself and flocks. Bible students have been 
 
374 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 puzzled because a well a hundred feet deep requir- 
 ing so much labor should be dug by Jacob when 
 nearby is plenty of running water. It is quite likely 
 jthe people refused to allow Jacob and his vast 
 flocks the use of their streams and forced him to 
 dig wells to get water, for there are perhaps more 
 disputes over the control of wells and springs in 
 this land than anything else. Anyway the well is 
 no fake. It is real and it is here, and quite likely 
 it has not been moved from where it was. Being 
 the only well anywhere around it is certainly the 
 place where Jesus met the Samaritan woman, re- 
 corded in the fourth chapter of John. 
 
 It was a great privilege to drink some water 
 from this well and read there the account of the 
 Master's visit. Clearly rose the picture before us. 
 Jesus was tired from his long journey and rested 
 by the well while the disciples went into the town 
 to buy their lunch, when this woman of the world 
 came down to draw water, and he opened up her 
 heart to her in such a way as to make her hurry 
 back to the town saying, "Come, see a man which 
 told me all things that ever I did. Is not this the 
 Christ?" Drinking of the water of the well that 
 day our eyes over and over rested on His words to 
 the woman, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall 
 thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water 
 which I shall give him shall never thirst, but it shall 
 be in him a well of water springing up into ever- 
 lasting life. 
 
 On our second visit we found a Catholic church 
 being built over this well. It was almost complete 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 375 
 
 and the well was at the altar. One consideration in 
 building it was the revenue from tourists who will 
 be charged an admission fee. 
 
 Late in the evening we reached the town of Na- 
 bulous, which is the modern name for Shechem. It 
 is a town of 25,000 people, a large percent Moham- 
 medans, but some Jews and Christians, and is lo- 
 cated between Mt. Ebal and Mt. Gerizim. Here on 
 Mt. Ebal Joshua built an altar unto God (Josh. 
 8:30) and the people with the ark of Israel were 
 placed half on one mountain and half on the other, 
 and repeated the laws of blessing and cursing until 
 the hills rang. Here in Mt. Gerizim the Samaritans 
 have worshipped since long before the time of 
 Christ, (they claim since the days of Joshua) . They 
 compose a sect of about a hundred and eighty, all 
 told. They accept only the first four books of the 
 Bible and conduct their worship like the ancient 
 Jews. They have a temple on Gerizim where they 
 conduct much of their worship at the time of feasts 
 and special occasions, and they also have a church 
 down in the town. Here the high priest met us 
 graciously and showed us the ancient scroll claimed 
 to have been made by the great grandson of Aaron. 
 It was marvelously new and well kept to be han- 
 dled constantly without protection for several thou- 
 sand years. The old fellow looked as if he hardly 
 expected us to swallow the pill. 
 
 A number of tourists had arrived ahead of our 
 party leaving room for only a part of our company 
 in the hotel. The rest of us found quarters in a 
 Catholic Monastery which Dr. Best very aptly 
 
876 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 named "Billy Goat Inn." The horses, donkeys and 
 goats used the first story and we used the second. 
 Our quarters and fare was not all that could be de- 
 sired. The priest in charge of the livery stable was 
 a talkative old monk who had more regard for cere- 
 mony than for cleanliness, and moreover he loved 
 his ease and his wine. We found a company of mis- 
 sion teachers from Egypt en route to Jerusalem 
 and found much interest in the report of their work. 
 Sleep was not what it might have been. It was dog 
 days and also dog nights and there seemed to be a 
 canine convention going on in town with some diffi- 
 culty as to selecting a chairman. Dr. Henry Van 
 Dyke says there are a million dogs in Shechem and 
 they howl all night. The word of a Presbyterian 
 must be taken. 
 
 We found Shechem the first well-watered place 
 we had seen except along the Jordan. There are a 
 number of springs and streams which bless the land 
 and cause to grow much fruit and flowers. This 
 with the striking location between the two moun- 
 tains make it a splendid location for a town. 
 
 Shechem was once the home of Abraham, and 
 later on of Jacob. In later years Joshua wrought 
 mighty works around it. It was set apart as one of 
 the cities of refuge. Here Reheboam was made king. 
 Later Abimelech destroyed the place. Later on it 
 was rebuilt by Jereboam. The dust of Jacob and 
 Joseph rests here, and here Jesus himself made 
 visits. 
 
 As we drove out of Shechem early in the morning 
 a crowd of lepers crowded about begging for back- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 377 
 
 shish. So eager were they to get a few pennies that 
 they paid no attention to the requirement to keep the 
 distance, but crowded about our carriages in a way 
 that was not comfortable. We threw a little money 
 as far as we could and while the poor half-dead 
 creatures scrambled for it we made our escape. 
 
 Our first stop of interest was at the town of Sa- 
 maria. We felt our carriages in the road and a few 
 of us went through the modern village, up the hill 
 to the ruins of the ancient city, which was as great 
 and gay as the modern town is poor and dirty. We 
 were now in the territory that belonged to the tribe 
 of Manasseh, having traveled yesterday through 
 that of Ephraim. Here on this great hill that rises 
 above the others round about was the proud and 
 mighty city of Samaria. 
 
 From the ruins that now are seen the imagination 
 can picture the great city that once sat upon this 
 commanding spot, and ruled the land around. 
 Standing in the ruins of Ahab's palace we looked 
 far and wide over the holy hills ; even out upon the 
 waters of the Mediterranean Sea. It would be 
 hard to find a place whose natural location and 
 beauty was better suited for a city. It was called 
 the "Crown of Pride of Ephraim, the flower of 
 his glorious beauty which is on the head of the 
 fat valley." 
 
 The city was built by Omri, king of Israel, and 
 was the capitol of the ten tribes. It was besieged 
 by Ben Hadad until an awful famine came upon it 
 and the head of an ass sold for eighty pieces of 
 silver, and mothers cooked and ate their own chil- 
 
378 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 dren. 2 Ki. 6:29. Again it was besieged by Shal- 
 manezer, King of Syria, and the people were taken 
 and carried away to the cities of the Medes. It was 
 a city of wickedness and idolatry. Paul and Barna- 
 bas preached here as also did Philip, Peter and 
 John. There is no record of Jesus visiting the city 
 though it is likely He did, as it lay in His path to 
 and from Nazareth. 
 
 It would be hard to find the ruins of a city that 
 have known more blood and shame. Here Herod 
 lived in sin and luxury. Here in jealous rage he 
 slew his wife, Marianne, who haunted him until half 
 crazed, he lamented for her in awful agony when 
 his memory was not drowned by his indecent revel- 
 eries. Here he also strangled his two sons. Walk- 
 ing in the ruins of Herod's Palace where he lived in 
 sin and luxury I found a Roman coin that belonged 
 to his day. Perhaps it had been in his sinful hands. 
 
 But Samaria is best known as the home of Ahab 
 and Jezebel. Here this weak, depraved man and 
 this devil possessed woman the meanest that ever 
 lived wrought their devilment. Here Elijah con- 
 tended with them and delivered the messages of 
 God. Here they both met their violent death-fitting 
 ends of their disgraceful careers. One day he went 
 out in royal chariot to battle, and came back with 
 his chariot wet with his own blood. One day Jehu 
 drove by and seeing Jezebel in the window ordered 
 her thrown down. Her body was dashed to pieces 
 and the dogs ate her flesh. 
 
 Just after passing Samaria we came upon the 
 new railroad, that is being built from the coast to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 379 
 
 Jerusalem via Samaria. The most of the work was 
 being done by women and girls, some of whom were 
 as young as fourteen. In the burning sun they 
 were carrying heavy burdens of stone, ties and 
 rails; digging with picks and shovels; laying the 
 rails and spiking them down, while Turkish sol- 
 diers uniformed and armed were seeing that the 
 work was properly done. We also saw numbers 
 of men building the carriage road through the coun- 
 try. This as well as the railroad is built by the 
 Turkish government. Men were breaking rock all 
 day in the heat for the sum of twenty cents. 
 
 Passing out of the hills we came to the plain of 
 Dothan. It is a plain of beauty and productiveness 
 and under modern agriculture like other sections, 
 could produce wonderful crops. The plain was full 
 of grazing flocks, as it was when Joseph came to 
 the aid of his brethren here where they had come to 
 pasture their herds. It was here the brothers sold 
 Joseph to the Midianites and drenching his coat (his 
 dead mother made him) in the blood of a kid took 
 it back to his father with the story that a wild beast 
 had devoured him. I was sitting in the carriage 
 reading the account, "They lifted up their eyes 
 and behold a company of Ishmaelites came from 
 Gilead with their camels bearing spicery and balm 
 and myrrh going to carry it down to Egypt. And 
 Judah said unto his brethren, 'What profit is it if 
 we slay our brother and conceal his blood? Come 
 let us sell him to Ishmaelites.' " Gen. 37 26:28. 
 Glancing up to get the setting of the story I saw a 
 company of Arabians with a caravan of camels com- 
 
380 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ing across the plain loaded with merchandise for 
 Egypt. Looking at the dark faces of IshmaePs sons 
 and the stately tread of the long train of camels I 
 cou'd easily imagine how the cruel brothers turned 
 over Joseph to a similar company for a small sum 
 of money and went home to their father with their 
 lying tale, while the lad followed the camels over 
 the hills to Egypt a slave but in God's providence 
 to be their master as well as ruler of Egypt. 
 
 Passing from the plain of Dothan we came to 
 Jenin where in the welcome shade of friendly trees 
 by singing streams, we ate our lunch and rested 
 from our journey. The real name of the place is 
 En Garni im which meant fountain of gardens. It 
 was given to the tribe of Issachar. Quite a little 
 town has gathered about these fountains which are 
 perpetual and abundant, but in Bible history the 
 place has little significance and is mentioned only 
 once. Our visit, however, was very pleasant because 
 of the water and shade which are two comforts sel- 
 dom found in overland travels in Palestine. Often 
 the scarcity of water is a real hardship and at times 
 it must be bought at a good price. On the second 
 tour we found a railroad station at Jenin on the new 
 road to Jerusalem and a village going up. It was 
 now a British garrison with a company of soldiers. 
 A monument here marked a battle with the Turks 
 and not far away General Allenby's army captured 
 100,000 prisoners. 
 
 Another thing of interest at Jenin was the mid- 
 day gathering of the flocks of goats and sheep for 
 water and rest. Numbers of different flocks min- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 381 
 
 gled together and lay down for rest after satisfying 
 their thirst from the streams. I have never seen 
 so many sheep and goats, and I was wondering how 
 the owners would ever get their own flocks sepa- 
 rated from the others, but when the time came to 
 go back to the pastures with the herds, I saw the 
 Scripture again before my eyes. Each shepherd 
 called his own sheep by name and they arose from 
 their rest and followed him away, none lagging and 
 none going astray. Oh, that the sheep of the Lord 
 would do as well! 
 
 Surrounded on all sides by these flocks and their 
 shepherds, we found many things to interest us, 
 and we could have watched them for many hours. 
 In the midst of the flocks we saw two dark face 
 shepherds busily engaged in trade. It seemed one 
 desired to purchase an old bell wether from the 
 other's flock. They went over all the qualities of 
 the goat in question and waxed warm and emphatic 
 in their discussion. The purchaser seemed unwill- 
 ing to accept the statements of the owner until he 
 grasped his beard in his hand as though he meant 
 to pull it out, and looking him hard in the face pro- 
 pounded to him some more questions in Arabic. The 
 owner of the goat assented. The purchaser, per- 
 fectly satisfied, paid the price and led Mr. Billy 
 away by the ear. It is said an Arab will never tell 
 the truth until you catch him by his beard and swear 
 him by that. All other oaths are nothing, but he 
 will swear the truth by his beard. We saw it done 
 many times. 
 
 After leaving Jenin we soon came to Shunem, 
 
382 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 the place where the "great woman" lived who built 
 a room on her house and furnished it for Elisha. 
 (2 Kings 4:8). Then turning a little northward 
 we came out upon a hill from which opened before 
 us one of the most thrilling views to be seen in 
 Palestine. It is the plain of Esdraelon which is 
 also known by the name of Jezreel, Megiddo, or 
 Armageddon. This plain attracts the traveler not 
 only for the richness of its history, but also for its 
 natural charm. The entire plain is made up of the 
 four plains, Dothan, Megiddo, Jezreel and Sharon, 
 which run together with lines of hills breaking 
 through their lines at different places. These plains 
 run from the sea to the Jordan, and embrace nearly 
 fifteen hundred square miles. Their fertility is 
 wonderful. It is claimed five or six crops can be 
 raised in a year. Roving tribes now prey upon it, 
 so that no crop is safe, and it is more a grazing 
 and foraging ground of Bedowins than a home of 
 farmers. If it was irrigated and properly culti- 
 vated there is no limit to the harvests it would 
 yield. In all the land there is no rain from April 
 until November. Then it rains constantly until 
 spring. In spite of these conditions good crops are 
 raised, since the porous limestone soil absorbs the 
 rain and gives it back in dews until the crop is 
 made. Yet if the land was irrigated it would, of 
 course, far exceed its present yield. 
 
 But the yield of history from this plain has been 
 greater than would be the yield of grain under all 
 the rains of heaven. This plain has been the battle- 
 ground of the centuries. Being the natural meet- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 383 
 
 ing point of travel from all directions, and being 
 well suited for a v battleground, it has furnished a 
 stage for many armies to meet and act out their 
 bloody tragedies. Here King Josiah was killed 
 fighting the armies of Egypt ; here Gideon, with his 
 three hundred, put to flight the Midianites (we 
 walked beside the very brook where they drank and 
 looked on their battlefield) ; here Israel met their 
 miserable defeat under King Saul, and there before 
 us, on Gilboa, he fell upon his sword. On a portion 
 of this plain the dauntless woman, Judge Deborah, 
 defeated the army of the mighty Sisera. So great 
 has been its history in the wars of Palestine, that 
 many Bible students have understood certain pro- 
 phecies to refer to it as the Armageddon where the 
 armies of the Lord and the devil shall meet in the 
 last great battle to fight the final conflict for world 
 mastery. It was nearby the decisive battle was 
 fought in 1918 that defeated the Turks in Palestine 
 and saved the land to Freedom and Christianity. 
 Was not this the Armageddon of the Turks? 
 
 Just before us yonder stands Little Hermon and 
 Mount Carmel, where a battle such as the world 
 never saw before took place when Elijah, single 
 handed, met Ahab and Jezebel with their four hun- 
 dred priests of Baal, and vanquished them all and 
 gained the day for God. On the top here he built 
 his altar, and the Baalites built theirs. They called 
 upon their God, and the old prophet grew sarcastic 
 in his righteous zeal and told them to call louder, 
 for their god was gone on a journey, was asleep or 
 had grown hard of hearing. Then he poured water 
 
384 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 on the wood of the altar that they might know he 
 had no magic fire, and turning his face up to God, 
 challenged Him to save His name. The fire came, 
 and the sacrifice, the altar and the water were all 
 consumed. Then he sent his servant seven times to 
 look toward the sea yonder for a cloud, for he was 
 claiming rain in the name of God to break the 
 drought of nearly four years. On the seventh jour- 
 ney the servant reported a cloud like a man's hand, 
 but it was large enough for the old prophet. He 
 ordered the people to hurry down the mountain that 
 they be not caught in the abundance of rain that 
 was coming from the Lord. It is thrilling anywhere 
 and any time to read the heroic deeds of the prophet 
 Elijah, but how much more so to read it at Mt. 
 Carmel? 
 
 And yonder is Mount Tabor, rising up in the plain 
 like a volcano, though not so pointed on the top. Its 
 top is covered with ruins of fortifications where it 
 was occupied at different times by Canaanites, Sara- 
 cens, Franks and Turks. It made a splendid fort 
 and gave command of all the surrounding plain. 
 The only living soul on the mountain is a monk, who 
 keeps a Catholic church which is in ruins. 
 
 We passed Endor, where Saul in his weakness 
 and sin, sought the witch at night to help him out 
 of his trouble, since he had cut off all access to his 
 God. And also the village of Nain, where Jesus 
 brought joy to the poor widow's heart and home by 
 meeting the funeral procession that bore the son to 
 his grave and restoring him to life and to his mother. 
 How Jesus must have been honored and loved in 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 385 
 
 that home! It would be interesting to know what 
 became of this boy in after life. Did he become a 
 great disciple? What became of all of those souls 
 Jesus helped so much? If we read of them again 
 their identity is not known. They must have stood 
 by their Lord. 
 
 It was late in the evening when we left the plain 
 and climbed the hills toward Nazareth. It was a 
 steep, hard climb, for Nazareth is high up in the 
 hills. When we reached the top we paused for a 
 last view of the way we had come. The wide plain, 
 with its flocks and caravans; Tabor and Carmel, 
 and those historic hills so rich in Bbile stories stand- 
 ing there before us in the evening light made a 
 picture never to be forgotten. Passing on around 
 another hill, the town of Nazareth came suddenly 
 upon our vision. What thoughts come to the heart 
 when you come to Nazareth ! Here Jesus, our Sav- 
 iour, spent the years of his childhood and youth 
 years of which we know so little and have won- 
 dered so much. What meaneth these great silences 
 in the life of our Lord? How did He spend them? 
 What deeds did He do and journeys did He take 
 about this place? Here He played as a child 
 and roamed these hills. Later on He worked, for 
 He was a working man, and with the hands that 
 helped God make the world, He made things with 
 Joseph's tools as He learned the carpenter's trade. 
 Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the world, working at 
 the carpenter's trade ! 
 
 We found Nazareth a cleaner, nicer town than 
 any we had seen. The houses made a better show- 
 
386 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 ing, and the people looked happier, brighter, and 
 showed more strength of character. The boys were 
 bright, and the girls were pretty, and everybody 
 was friendly so friendly that they were sometimes 
 troublesome. This is due to the fact that a smaller 
 per cent, of the inhabitants are Turks; and sec- 
 ondly, because Protestant missions are doing a 
 splendid work among the natives. Nowhere did we 
 see more fruitful evidence of missionary efforts. 
 Our hotel was a clean, pleasant, home-like place. 
 About its doors the women and girls, as well as 
 others gathered to welcome us and offer for sale 
 articles made by their own hands at very small 
 prices. They were persistent, but so pleasant and 
 charming that you could not turn them away. One 
 of them especially, named Marie, with her sweet 
 face, charming smile, big, dark eyes, and yet re- 
 fined manners, would win her way anywhere and 
 sell things to almost anybody. Those gruff trav- 
 elers who turn away every other plea, usually sur- 
 render before Marie's smile and carry home some 
 lace work from her hands. 
 
 After supper, Philip secured for us an invitation 
 to a marriage, and we all went. It was in a home 
 not far from the hotel. We were very graciously 
 received and invited in. We were asked to take 
 our choice of sitting on our feet on the floor or 
 standing. We chose the latter, because we could do 
 it with more ease and comfort, and we could see 
 better. I am truly glad our young folks in this 
 country do not get married like they do over there, 
 both for their own benefit and for the benefit of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 387 
 
 their neighbors. It takes a whole week to get 
 through the ceremony. Nearly all night for that 
 time the neighbors come filling the house and the 
 yard, and the noise they keep up would put an old- 
 time Southern serenade so far in the rear that it 
 would never catch up. They have drums made of 
 sheep skins stretched over jars, and other musical 
 instruments too numerous and hideous to talk about. 
 Whistles, flutes, stringed instruments like fiddles 
 and banjos only worse tin pans, bones they beat 
 together, and other things. These are kept going 
 constantly accompanied with a continual moaning, 
 chanting cry from the entire crowd. Many are 
 dancing the men and women separately. It con- 
 sists mostly of whirling round and round on their 
 toes or heels like a top, until they look exhausted 
 and silly ; but I am sure if I could do the trick at all 
 I would look sillier than they do before I had gone 
 half as far. This goes on for a week, and then the 
 ceremony culminates with the religious rite that 
 ties the knot. I know it is a relief when the couple 
 are gone on their journey. My sympathy goes out 
 to a family with half a dozen girls to get married. 
 If there are old maids and bachelors in a land like 
 that, who could wonder at it? Better be single than 
 go through such torture. 
 
 The next morning we visited the places of interest 
 about the town. Among them, the church which is 
 said to be on the site of Joseph's home and his car- 
 penter shop. While these places are uncertain, we 
 did not let it detract from the charm of our visit, 
 for we knew it was somewhere near here the Saviour 
 
388 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 lived with Mary and Joseph in their humble home, 
 and near here was Joseph's shop where Jesus 
 worked. There is one place in Nazareth, however, 
 that is genuine, and over it the Catholics have not 
 built a monastery. It is the Virgin's Fountain, the 
 only source of water supply for the town. It has 
 been here since before the days of Jesus. Here 
 Jesus came for water for His mother, and here often 
 He drank from the stream that flowed then, as it 
 does now, to fill the pitchers of those who came to 
 get its life. It was at this fountain, mentioned in 
 Ben Hur, where the soldiers paused to get water on 
 their march from Jerusalem to Rome with Ben 
 Hur, the young Jew, who was condemned to the gal- 
 leys for a crime he did not commit. Jesus was at 
 the fountain at the time, and seeing the tired young 
 Jew, he brought him some water from the fountain. 
 All his life Ben Hur could never forget that water 
 and the face of the one who gave it to him. 
 
 While visiting these scenes in Cana, some one 
 stole my Bible from the carriage. It brought sad- 
 ness to my heart, for I had lost a friend. With this 
 Book in my hand I had come over the sacred places 
 of the Holy Hills and read the account in the very 
 places where they occurred. I had marked these 
 passages and noted the dates of the visit. I had 
 made many notes and impressions, as well as ser- 
 monic suggestions. Over the seas this Bible had 
 been by my side. It was given to me by the Sunday- 
 school of Thomas' Chapel on the Cartersville Cir- 
 cuit, my first charge in the Virginia Conference, 
 and had been my companion ever since. I went on 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 389 
 
 that day with a feeling of loneliness and constantly 
 came to me the words I keep posted in the fly-leaf 
 of my Bible : 
 
 "We've traveled together, my Bible and I, 
 Through all kinds of weather with smile or with 
 
 sigh; 
 In sorrow or sunshine, in tempest or calm, 
 Thy friendship unchanging, my life and my psalm. 
 
 "We've travelled together, my Bible and I, 
 When life had grown weary and death e'en was 
 
 nigh; 
 But all through the darkness of mist or of wrong, 
 I found thee a solace, a prayer or a song. 
 
 "So now who shall part us, my Bible and I? 
 Shall isms or schisms or new lights who try, 
 Shall shadows or substances or stones for good, 
 Supplant thy sound wisdom, give folly instead? 
 
 "Ah, no ! my dear Bible, exponent of light, 
 Thou sword of the Spirit, put error to flight; 
 And still through life's journey until my last sigh, 
 We'll travel together, my Bible and I." 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 ON LAKE GALILEE. 
 
 From Nazareth we turned our faces toward the 
 Lake of Galilee, and winding through the hills, soon 
 came to Cana, where Jesus attended the marriage 
 and changed the water into wine. Passing on still 
 northward, we came in the afternoon to the hill 
 called "The Horns of Hattin," supposed to be the 
 place where Jesus preached the "Sermon on the 
 Mount." If this was the location, it furnished a 
 splendid place for a pulpit on the spur of the hill, 
 with the sloping green fields where the congrega- 
 tion could sit and listen. 
 
 Here we had our first view of Lake Galilee, and 
 swinging down the road in a brisk trot our horses 
 soon landed us on the lake shore. I hesitate to write 
 of my impressions that day and night on Galilee. 
 It stands out in my heart as one of the greatest 
 days of my life, and as the days go on, memory 
 seems to bring me closer to the life that throbbed 
 in my heart that day. 
 
 It isn't the ruins that make the shores of Lake 
 Galilee interesting. In the days of Jesus almost 
 the entire lake shore was full of throbbing, thriv- 
 ing life. Nine flourishing cities were on the shore, 
 and the busy life of fishermen and merchantmen 
 kept the shore line and the waters the busiest place 
 in Palestine. Now all these cities are gone, save 
 dirty Tiberius, and so completely has been the de- 
 struction that there are hardly any ruins to look 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 391 
 
 upon. Only in the last years were the ruins of 
 Capernaum located and brought to light. All the 
 boats but one or two have passed from the waters, 
 leaving no wreck of their hulls on the shore. The 
 teeming multitudes have passed away, leaving no 
 graves to mark their resting place. The great fish- 
 ing business is gone, leaving not a strand of a net 
 on the shore. As though lifted up on the winds 
 and carried out of the world, all the life, cities 
 and people of those busy days have gone away, 
 leaving no tracks behind them. So it is not in the 
 life of Galilee we take interest, for there is no 
 place quieter and more lonely, although it is just as 
 great in possibilities now as it was in the days 
 of Jesus. The waters are full of fish, which come 
 in schools to the shore and to your boat side, and 
 since Peter and John are gone, there is nobody 
 there to catch them. Who ever heard of a Turk 
 catching fish? To them that would be disgrace. 
 
 Nor is it in monuments and relics Galilee holds 
 its charm. Strange as it may seem, modern genius 
 and devotion has done no building here, but has 
 left the spot untouched. The Catholics could not 
 build a monastery over the lake, nor could the Turks 
 cover it with a mosque, so it has remained un- 
 touched. 
 
 It is in memory's spiritual vibrations that the 
 charm of Galilee lives. Coming back through the 
 centuries, deeds done along this shore live as a 
 film that runs its pictures before your soul. The 
 breeze blowing over the lake is full of voices speak- 
 ing; the flowers blooming along the shore line are 
 
392 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 full of faces looking; every wave that rolls over 
 the waters and ripples on the shore brings boats 
 of fishermen, some empty and some full ; every rock 
 has a history and seems to be a living form. A 
 Presence strange and real broods over Lake Galilee. 
 It greets you; it grips you; it calls you; it thrills 
 you ; it fills you ; it puts its hand upon you and holds 
 you. 
 
 We took a boat ride to the upper end of the lake 
 to view the ruins of Capernaum, and on that trip 
 we got an illustration of what the winds can do 
 when they blow down the gorge and stir the waters 
 of the lake until they seem to be mad. We were 
 shaken by the waves and drenched by the spray, 
 and when we reached the end of the lake the water 
 was so rough the boat could not land, and the boat- 
 men carried us out on their backs. When we 
 started on that boat ride on the lake, Phillip put in 
 our hand a card given by our hotel proprietor con- 
 taining a song. Passing over the waves of the lake 
 our party sang: 
 
 "Each gentle dove and sighing bough 
 That makes the eve so blessed to me, 
 Has something far diviner now, 
 It bears me back to Galilee! 
 
 Chorus : 
 
 O Galilee! Sweet Galilee! 
 
 Where Jesus loved so much to be ; 
 O Galilee! Sweet Galilee! 
 
 Come sing again thy song to me ! 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 393 
 
 "Each flowery glen and mossy dell 
 Where happy birds in song agree ; 
 Thro' sunny morn their praises tell 
 Of sights and sounds in Galilee. 
 
 Galilee! Sweet Galilee! 
 
 Where Jesus loved so much to be ; 
 Galilee! Sweet Galilee! 
 
 Come sing again thy song to me ! 
 
 "And when I read the thrilling love 
 
 Of Him who walked upon the sea, 
 I long, oh how I long, once more 
 To follow Him in Galilee! 
 
 Galilee! Sweet Galilee! 
 
 Where Jesus loved so much to be ; 
 Galilee! Sweet Galilee! 
 
 Come sing again thy song to me ! 
 
 Jesus did love to dwell in Galilee. He loved it be- 
 cause of its beauty and charm, but He loved it more 
 because the people were here. The struggling, 
 troubled, hungry, suffering, sinful people were here 
 in multitudes, and His heart drew Him here with 
 them. He did not withdraw from men, save for rest 
 and prayer, nor did he seek the exclusive classes. He 
 sought the masses. Where they were He went. His 
 burdens were theirs. Their troubles were on His 
 heart. These things brought him to Galilee. Here 
 were the masses, the working, struggling folks, and 
 He loved them. 
 
394 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 When we returned from our boat ride we found 
 our quarters in the Hotel Tiberius, in the town by 
 that name. It seems strange that the only town that 
 has survived the storm of the centuries since the 
 days of Jesus is this town that bears the name of 
 its founder, one of the vilest of Roman rulers. And 
 stranger still, modern life has actually cast aside the 
 name Galilee for this beautiful lake, so closely linked 
 with the life of Jesus, and given it the name "Sea 
 of Tiberius." All the Christian world ought to rebel 
 against such a shame and see that it bears the name 
 Galilee. The town of Tiberius is as dirty and ugly 
 as a town can be. Missionary work under the Free 
 Church of Scotland has been going on here for over 
 twenty years, but there is a great deal to be done 
 yet. Tiberius is so full of fleas that it has long been 
 called the home of the "King of the Fleas." 
 
 Our hotel was a clean and comfortable one, kept 
 by German-Americans for the benefit of tourists. 
 We were hungry when called to the table, and the 
 supper they served us was a good one and well pre- 
 pared. The following is the menu : 
 
 Soup with Sagon. 
 
 Fried Fish from the lake. 
 
 Croquets. Vegetable Marrow. Tomatoes. 
 
 Roast leg of Lamb. Potatoes. Nature's Salad. 
 
 Pudding. Raspberry Tart. 
 
 Bread. Butter. Fruit. Coffee. 
 
 Brother Williams and myself were assigned to 
 a r.oom on the third story, the only room on that 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 395 
 
 floor. Our room opened on a porch facing the lake, 
 which we had all to ourselves up there away from 
 the crowd. Who could sleep a night like that? The 
 moon rose over the hills of Bashan and sent down 
 upon the waters of Galilee a silvery ' charm. The 
 wind had ceased, the waves were still, and every- 
 thing about the lake as quiet as though asleep, yet 
 in all that quietness and peace, living forms came to 
 us out of the night, and voices strong and loud were 
 calling to us over the waters. 
 
 Out there on the waters memory sailed a boat. A 
 company were coming from the other side. Peter 
 and his friends were handling the boat, and they 
 knew how. A storm arose. The wind roared. The 
 waves dashed as if in the lake a demon seemed to 
 writhe. The Master was asleep and they awoke 
 Him with the question: "Carest thou not that we 
 perish?" He arose from the rest He was getting 
 in the quiet of the waters after a trying day, and 
 with His quiet, peaceful face looked at the storm* 
 When His lips spoke "Peace, be still," the storm 
 king cowed, rolled up his winds and went away, for 
 what storm can go on when His lips speak "Peace 
 be still"? Many sinful, troubled souls have heard 
 that voice, and the raging storms that shook their 
 hearts have felt the calm of peace. Our souls, in 
 the quietness of that night, were singing: 
 
 Master, the tempest is raging, 
 
 The billows are tossing high ; 
 The sky is overshadowed with blackness, 
 
 No shelter or help is nigh ! 
 
396 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 "Carest Thou not that we perish?" 
 
 How can'st Thou lie asleep 
 When each moment so madly is threatening 
 
 A grave in the angry deep ? 
 
 "The winds and the waves obey My will, 
 
 Peace, be still Peace, be still !" 
 Whether the wrath of the storm tossed sea, 
 
 Or demons or men or whatever it be, 
 No water can swallow the ship where lies 
 
 The Master of ocean and earth and skies ; 
 They all shall sweetly obey Thy will, 
 
 Peace, be still ! Peace, be still ! 
 
 But hark ! I see another boat, and over the waves 
 it is coming through the night. This time the Mas- 
 ter was not on the boat. On the other side the lake 
 that day He had fed five thousand men, besides 
 women and children (Matt. 14), from the fisher 
 boy's lunch, showing us how He can help us out of 
 hard places when we trust Him, and also how we 
 can do big things for God on small capital. Night 
 coming on, He sent the disciples back across the sea 
 in their little boat about their own affairs, and He, 
 feeling need of refilling his soul with spiritual stores 
 after His exhausting labor, went alone in the moun- 
 tain to meet His Father in prayer. But His eyes 
 looked out in the night and watched the little boat 
 as He does every little boat in which a child of His 
 sails the sea of Life. Ah ! the little boat has struck 
 contrary waves, as our boats so often do, for there 
 are so many contrary waves everywhere. They 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 397 
 
 rack every heart and shake every soul. We can't 
 sail far v without striking contrary waves. Yonder 
 is the little boat tossing as though it must be 
 swamped. Now it rides high upon a wave as though 
 it will be dashed to pieces. Now it sinks down in the 
 trough of the sea as though it has gone to its grave 
 forever. In the face of that storm the skill of John 
 and strength of Peter are nothing, and Jesus is not 
 in the boat! Ah, if He were here! But so often 
 when we need Him most He seems so far away. 
 
 But look! yonder in the night He comes. His 
 white form is walking on the angry waves ; his face 
 is looking through the storm. He had no boat to 
 bring Him, nor would He tarry to launch it, but He 
 is coming! He is coming! Through the storm He 
 has seen His children in their trouble, and He has 
 come to their help. And "when He entered the boat 
 the wind ceased." Of course it did. Can the winds 
 and storms shake a heart when He has entered it? 
 Yonder comes the boat with the master Pilot in the 
 bow, and in safety it touches the shore. As the 
 boat came in our souls again were singing: 
 
 "When at last I near the shore, 
 And the fearful breakers roar, 
 Twixt me and the peaceful rest, 
 Then while leaning on Thy breast, 
 May I hear Thee say to me, 
 'Fear not, I will pilot thee.' " 
 
 But as I looked behold across the lake I saw com- 
 ing shoreward another boat. It was not a boat of 
 
398 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 apostles and saints but fishermen, and they had no 
 Master with them, for He is dead now. The night 
 was gone and the day had come. Over the hills of 
 Bashan the sun was coming up to travel the sky- 
 path I had watched the moon move in. The boat 
 sat light in the water and by that and the tired dis- 
 appointed look on the fishermen's faces I judged 
 they had toiled all night which was the time the fish 
 will enter the nets and caught nothing. They were 
 busy with the oars, though their movements were 
 mechanical and listless. They said nothing as fish- 
 ermen do who come in with nets that are empty. 
 No boat was ever launched on the waves for such a 
 momentous trip. The church of the King was in 
 that boat, and the fate of the Kingdom depended 
 upon its journey. Jesus was dead and the disciples 
 had laid down their affairs of church and taken up 
 their nets to fish. Suppose the boat sinks. Or sup- 
 pose this fishing business is successful and be- 
 comes their life work instead of preaching? 
 
 But they did not succeed. Their nets were empty 
 but their hearts were full. The greatest blessings 
 sometimes are in empty barns, empty nets and ad- 
 versity. The heart is not apt to be full when the 
 hands are full. We pray for those who are in ad- 
 versity, but those who succeed need our prayers 
 more. In failure men will seek God. In success God 
 must seek them. We have never known what bless- 
 ings our failures and troubles have been to us. The 
 Disciples were better off than if their catch had 
 been good. They were in a better position to meet 
 their Lord. Christ had called them to be Apostles 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 399 
 
 and now they found that they failed at fishing. 
 Their hearts were troubled and their minds went 
 back as minds do when we fail. They go forward 
 when we succeed, and backward when we fail. As 
 Peter put his great shoulders forward against the 
 oars he made a motion with his head and said, 
 "Right over there is where the Master saved our 
 boat from sinking, John, remember?" John, who 
 was guiding the rudder, brushed a tear from his 
 eyes and answered, *'Yes," and pointing to the 
 Ga dara hills, said, "And yonder He healed the man 
 of evil spirits, and fed the multitude." 
 
 A voice from the shore called, "Boys, have -you 
 caught anything?" A natural question always 
 asked a fisherman, and one a man with empty 
 nets dreads to hear. Peter muttered, "Nothing." 
 The voice from the shore again called, "Let down 
 your nets on the right side of your boat." Think- 
 ing he had seen a school of fish working in the 
 water they let down their nets on the right side. 
 Ah! All night they had been fishing on the wrong 
 side. There is so much effort on the wrong side 
 the side Christ does not want us to work on. They 
 made a pull at their nets and felt the tug and jerk 
 of fish against the meshes, a feeling a fisherman 
 delights to feel. And then they drew in the biggest 
 haul they ever made. John looked up at the white 
 figure on the shore and said, "It is the Lord." 
 Why did he say it? Because there was something 
 in the way the big fish came in that net and pulled 
 against it. And then the heart of John knew his 
 Master's voice. When Peter heard that he jumped 
 
400 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 in the sea and made for the shore, leaving boat and 
 net. He had denied his Lord, now he had come to 
 own Him. 
 
 "But when the day was breaking Jesus stood on 
 the beach, but the disciples knew not that it was 
 Jesus." Yes, he was on the beach waiting at the 
 end of their weary night. He stands on every 
 beach in the night like the great lighthouse that He 
 is. He guides the little boats over the waves to 
 Him. He had come down there just to watch their 
 boat come in to guide it in. He was interested 
 in His children and His church in that little boat. 
 Beautiful and tender is this touch of life. Suppose 
 He had not been on the shore that morning? No, 
 they didn't know Him. Often we fail to know Him, 
 so bent are we on our trades and our troubles. 
 
 I saw them land their fish and beach their boat 
 at the Master's feet, fishing as a business ended 
 with them forever. I saw them sit down to eat their 
 morning meal with the risen Lord. The morn- 
 ing light was gliding the hills with gold and throw- 
 ing a heavenly charm over the lake. I heard the 
 Master say to Peter, "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest 
 thou me more than these?" And over the lake I 
 heard Peter answer, "Yea, Lord, thou knowest all 
 things, thou knowest I love thee." And seeing 
 them all upon the shore together my soul again burst 
 forth in song: 
 
 My soul in sad exile was out on life's sea, 
 
 So burdened by sin and distress 
 Till I heard a sweet voice saying, "Make me your 
 choice," 
 
 And I entered the haven of rest. 
 
TRAVELS VN THE OLD WORLD 401 
 
 I've anchored my soul in the haven of rest, 
 
 I'll sail the white seas no more ; 
 The tempest may sweep o'er the wide stormy deep, 
 
 But in Jesus I'm safe ever more. 
 
 With the coming of the glorius day that followed 
 that memorable night, we had our breakfast and 
 took our boat for a cruise along the lake. Oh ! the 
 history dear to every Christian's heart that this lake 
 and these hills have known ! What stories they could 
 tell if they would speak. Is it any wonder voices are 
 in the air and faces look from everywhere, and the 
 breath comes fast as you walk these shores and 
 ride these waves? That morning in the sunlight a 
 few of the events in the life of Jesus enacted in 
 this sacred place came up before us, but they were 
 only a few. The most of the activities of Jesus re- 
 corded in the Bible occurred on and about the lake 
 and in Jerusalem, but how many deeds these hills 
 and shores hold secret that have never come down 
 to us? 
 
 Yonder on the lake shore is Magdala, the home 
 of Mary Magdalene. Along this shore Jesus chose 
 eleven of His disciples, all but one coming from 
 Galilee, the other, Judas Iscariot, coming from 
 Judea. Here on one side the lake on the green grass 
 He fed the five thousand and on the other side the 
 four thousand. Here He healed a lame man. Here 
 He cured Peter's wife's mother of the fever. Here 
 He healed the man with the withered hand. A man 
 who was dumb saw him and spoke. A ruler's 
 daughter was brought to life when she was dead. 
 
402 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 A leper who met Him with faith went away with 
 life. A woman with an incurable disease for thirty- 
 eight years touched His garment and He touched 
 her soul, and sent her home whole. The Centurion 
 nobleman, who came in behalf of his sick servant, 
 was rewarded with his servant's health. And the 
 Scripture mentions a lame man who saw His face 
 and rose and walked; and a palsied man let down 
 through the roof that got up and carried His bed 
 when he saw the Master's face. It also tells us 
 that here He spoke the parable of the Sower and 
 many more like it. It gives an account of His meet- 
 ing the demon possessed man in the rugged hills of 
 Gadara and cast the devil into a herd of two thou- 
 sand swine who rushed into the sea and were 
 drowned. I wondered how those hogs were gotten 
 out of the sea ? 
 
 And I remembered hearing a good old Virginia 
 friend of mine teaching this lesson once. A lady 
 asked him of he thought the devils were drowned 
 with the hogs. "I don't know for certain, ,, he said, 
 "but I do know this, if they were drowned they have 
 never been missed." I could almost hear those 
 Gadarenes ask Him to leave their land when He 
 destroyed their hogs. It made me think of some 
 folks back home. I had seen the church of Jesus 
 Christ drive the greedy hogs of Avarice out of a 
 state that they might no longer devour the helpless 
 and the weak in their troughs, their hoggeries, the 
 saloon, the gambling den, the sweatshop of child 
 slaughter, and the brothel. And when the swine 
 keepers saw their herd drown in the sea of oblivion 
 
Travels in the old world 403 
 
 and public condemnation they tried to run the 
 Church of Christ and its servants out of the commu- 
 nity. I heard the devils beg Christ to let them go 
 into the hogs. A strange request, but devils must 
 have something to get into and destroy. It is worse 
 than hell for a devil to have no bodily form in which 
 he can ride down to hell and lash it and gash it, and 
 poison it and stain it, and gorge it and damn it. 
 
 As soon as an evil spirit destroys one body by the 
 burnings of sin, it seeks another forthwith. Per- 
 haps an evil spirit's standing with the Arch fiend at 
 the judgment will depend upon the number of 
 bodies and souls it has destroyed ; just as the stand- 
 ing of a German submarine commander with the 
 Kaiser depended upon how many boats loaded with 
 helpless souls they sent to the bottom of the sea. 
 If a devil can't get a human form to ravish, it will 
 take a hog, a dog, a horse or even some object that 
 has no life. A runaway train, machinery, a gun, 
 a river, a stove, a knife, are these not at times 
 dwelling places of demons? So Jesus let them go 
 into the hogs because it was against the law to keep 
 hogs in this land. 
 
 I saw the place imagined I saw it where Peter 
 at the command of Jesus caught a fish with gold in 
 his mouth with which he paid the Lord's tax and 
 his own. I saw the place where Jesus pushed the 
 boat from the shore and using it for a pulpit 
 preached to the congregation on the shore. I caught 
 a crab from the waters of Galilee, though wise men 
 say they do not live in fresh water. I picked up 
 from the shore beautiful small white shells such 
 
404 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 as I never saw before, and brought them home. We 
 crossed over the lake, landed near the outlet of the 
 Jordan, bathed in the clear blue waters, and tak- 
 ing a last look over the scenes Jesus loved so well 
 we climbed up to the station of Sanak and boarded 
 the little train whose nose was turned toward the 
 hills of Bashan, while clear and sweet came the 
 voice of John G. Whittier ringing in our souls : 
 
 Faith hath still its Olivet, 
 And love is Galilee. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 DAMASCUS AND THE LEBANON MOUNTAIN. 
 
 Our little train steamed and snorted up the hills 
 and through the ravines of Bashan like Bashan's 
 bellowing bulls. Bashan means soft, sandy soil and 
 after you climb to the top of the great plateau you 
 may think it well named. It is a fertile land and 
 some of it well watered. Our journey all day lay 
 through the hills and plains of this land that was 
 given to the tribe of Manasseh, and then we entered 
 the land of Syria which is not really Canaan, not 
 being a part of the Promised Land occupied by the 
 children of Israel. While this land is not considered 
 Palestine proper it is so closely related to the rest 
 af the Holy Land and so links its history with that 
 of Israel that it is generally classed with it. 
 
 The greatest city in Syria is Damascus. It is 
 the oldest city in the world and one of the most in- 
 teresting. They tell a story there that once upon a 
 time three Knights came riding over the plain on fine 
 Arabian steeds and gallantly and proudly entered 
 the city. So charmed were they with the city that 
 they each desired to take the name for his horse; 
 but waxing into a warm dispute over who should 
 claim this honor they submitted the case to a smart 
 lady they chanced to meet. She sat as judge hear- 
 ing each press his claim and then she rendered a 
 decision to the effect that each had equal right to 
 the name, but it would not do to name all the horses 
 Damascus, so they must divide the name one would 
 be Dam, the other Ass, and the third Cuss. 
 
406 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 They tell another story of Mohammed, the 
 prophet of Islam, who came this way to enter the 
 city. Passing over the barren plains he looked upon 
 the gardens and streams, and all the fruit and pow- 
 ers of the city as he rested on a hill. So over- 
 come was he with the beauty and charm of the city 
 that he turned away with a sigh saying, "Man can- 
 not have but one Paradise and I want mine in the 
 other world, not this one." 
 
 The city is beautiful, though its beauty is made 
 more striking because it is the only city in this part 
 of the country, and nestles in an oasis in the midst 
 of barrenness. To enter it you pass over barren 
 plains that make a striking background, bringing 
 out the beauties of the place. The thing that makes 
 Damascus beautiful, yea, that gives its existence is 
 the Abana River. It hurries down from the Ante 
 Lebanon mountains ten miles away as though it 
 must waste no time in bringing its waters of life to 
 Damascus. Just before reaching the city it slows 
 its pace and from one narrow stream it divides it- 
 self into seven that flow through this oasis, and 
 Damascus with beautiful flower gardens, and gar- 
 dens full of fruit, sits like a queen not upon seven 
 hills like Rome, but upon the banks of seven streams. 
 After giving Damascus its beauty and life these 
 streams soon disappeared in the sands as though 
 the work was done and like man when his task is 
 finished find their grave in the sands. 
 
 Naaman, the mighty Syrian (2 Ki. 5) lived here 
 and when a little maid in his home who had been 
 brought from the land of Israel as a captive learned 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 407 
 
 her master had leprosy and could get no cure she 
 told him a prophet back in Israel could heal him. 
 He made the long journey with what feelings we 
 do not know, but he went seeking health, and a man 
 will go to the ends of the earth on a slight hope for 
 that. The prophet told him to wash seven times 
 in Jordan, and Naaman grew furious, saying, "Are 
 not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus better 
 than all rivers of Israel?" It gives us pain to say 
 it, but it is true. Abana is more beautiful than 
 Jordan but not better. At last the proud old fel- 
 low was humbled and obeyed, coming from his Jor- 
 dan bath healed of the dread disease. They showed 
 us the home of Naaman, where a leper colony is 
 maintained to care for those afflicted with the dis- 
 ease he had. Strange but fitting memorial. 
 
 We visited the Street called Straight. It is full 
 f bazaars, dogs and donkeys, but it is beyond and 
 above all those things for which this street is re- 
 nowned. It marks the place of the conversion that 
 changed Saul of Tarsus, the persecutor, to Paul the 
 apostle, the persecuted. He was smitten blind on the 
 road into the city and conducted here to this street 
 to the home of Judas where through the prayers of 
 Annanias he found his sight and his Saviour. Every 
 Christian feels like pausing here, for there is no 
 event in the church since Pentecost that meant as 
 much as the conversion of Paul, the mightiest apostle 
 the Church of Christ ever had. 
 
 We had a pleasant hotel in Damascus and found 
 some pleasant American travellers there. Our fare 
 was very good, especially the fruit which was plen- 
 
408 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 tiful and delicious. It did much to offset the ever- 
 present mutton. We visited the points of interest 
 in the city, including the mosques, the grave of 
 the mighty Saladin, the greatest Turk that ever 
 lived, for it was he who conquered all this land for 
 Mohammed more than seven hundred years ago. We 
 enjoyed excursions in the streets where it seemed 
 we found more pups than we did in Constantinople. 
 Our ladies had one privilege we could not enjoy, 
 they visited the harem of one of the rich men, and 
 brought back glowing reports of the gorgeous quar- 
 ters, and the charming wives. We were left out, 
 for no man, not even near kin, can cross the thresh- 
 old of the harem. But we didn't care. Who would 
 want to go to an old harem? They were not ahead 
 of us. We could go to our lodge and they couldn't. 
 Before we left Damascus we climbed a high hill 
 that overlooked the city and gazed down upon it, 
 and beyond the city we looked out upon the wide 
 ocean of sand. Caravans of camels were coming 
 over the sand dunes. They looked like ships sail- 
 ing over the waves of the sea. Others were going 
 out. Thus they carried on the commerce of the 
 world back beyond Babylon and Bagdad into regions 
 unknown and unexplored by civilized men. For the 
 wide stretch of those unknown sands we call desert 
 because we don't know what it is. It is full of sons 
 of Ishmael, roving desert men. No man owns that 
 land. No man has ever conquered it or them and 
 the prophecies of the Bible say no man ever will. 
 They send horses, sheep, grain and other things out 
 to the world and from the world they get some 
 
Travels in the old world 409 
 
 things, but the world has little they want. They 
 live in tents of goat's hair which the Bible calls the 
 black tents of Kedar. God said of him before he 
 was born, "He will be a wild man, his hand will be 
 against every man and every man's hand against 
 him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his 
 brethren." Gen. 16:12. "I will make of him a 
 great name." Gen. 17:20. These Ishmaelites have 
 brought down the Abrahamic teachings and in many 
 respects have been truer to their origin than the 
 Jews. Religion is making slow but sure progress 
 among them. The Standard Oil Company has de- 
 cided to put a lamp in all the tents of Ishmael and 
 the Church of Christ ought to put the light of 
 Christ in all their tents. When the children of 
 Ishmael and Isaac turn to Christ it will be a great 
 victory. A careful study of these strange Bible 
 people is interesting and well worth the time. 
 
 Damascus there below us taking in and sending 
 out these ships of the desert seemed a big seaport 
 in this ocean of sand. Strange did it look that day. 
 Torn by strife and war, sacked and pillaged, made 
 horrible by massacre of Christians, beseiged by 
 armies, with no defense it has lived on as a city 
 since before the days of Abraham, and it will be a 
 city when God calls time on the world. 
 
 To the southwest rose Mt. Hermon, its head ever 
 white with snow, over ten thousand feet above the 
 sea. It is generally agreed by Bible students now 
 that on the side of this mountain was the scene of 
 the transfiguration. You cannot get away from Mt. 
 Hermon anywhere in this part of the country. It 
 
410 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 even stands as though white with age looking down 
 upon you from the eternal snows while sometimes 
 you are burning in the sun. 
 
 From Damascus we journeyed up through the 
 beautiful valley of Coele, Syria, rich in lands and 
 fruits with the Lebanons on one side, and the Ante- 
 Lebanons on the other, lifting their snowy heads 
 high toward the skies, while down in the valley we 
 felt the burning heat of Syria's sun. Our jour- 
 ney for several miles was along the banks of the 
 Abana and Pharpar, whose cooling streams of clear 
 water rushed over the rocks between banks heavy- 
 loaded with fruits and flowers. 
 
 The Moslems claim that it was from this very 
 dirt God made Adam, and we passed through the 
 place they call the Garden of Eden, and saw the very 
 tree on which the fruit grew that tempted mother, 
 Eve(?) Further on we came to the grave of Noah. 
 It is two hundred feet long, yet the Turks claim the 
 old fellow was so large that he is greatly cramped 
 for room, and had to double up his knees and put 
 his feet straight down. If his sons and their wives 
 were of equal proportions the ark was a whopper. 
 But we banished these foolish Turkish legends from 
 our minds and gave our minds to more profitable 
 reflections. 
 
 In the evening we came to Baalbeck. Here we 
 were to spend the Sabbath, and it was indeed a fine 
 place to spend it. In front of us were the Lebanon 
 mountains with the far-famed cedars of Lebanon, 
 waving their branches toward the skies. Here was 
 the place whence came the timbers of the temple 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 411 
 
 in Jerusalem. Before our hotel stood the stately- 
 ruins of the temple of Baalbeck, the grandest ruins 
 of the world. It would be impossible to give any- 
 thing like a clear description of these ruins, which 
 are on such a mammoth scale that even when you 
 read volumes on its history and structure you are 
 stunned when you pass over its fallen stones to find 
 it so much grander than you thought. 
 
 Its history goes so far back in the dawn of his- 
 tory that like Egypt it is lost in the dawning of 
 the ages. Every civilization has built more to it. 
 You can clearly trace the works of Solomon, the 
 Romans, Greeks, Crusaders, Christians and the 
 Turks besides those who come before all these. It 
 is the Baalgad mentioned in the Bible (Josh. 11 :17 
 and 13:5). It meant the city of The Sun, where 
 from earliest times people worshipped Baal, the 
 sun God. Solomon was led off by some of his wives 
 who were Baal worshippers and used his skill to 
 add to the glories of Baalbeck. 
 
 While I cannot attempt anything like a descrip- 
 tion or a history of the ruins there are a few facts 
 I desire to record. The temple covered about two 
 hundred thousand square feet, being five hundred 
 feet long and four hundred feet wide. It had about 
 one hundred and twenty great pillars, many of them 
 red marble, which are said to have come from Egypt 
 as no such stone has been discovered elsewhere. 
 Many of these pillars are over nine feet in diameter 
 and over sixty feet long. How they were ever 
 brought up into these mountains and put in place 
 is a mystery too great for me. 
 
412 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 But the thing* that dazed me more than anything 
 I saw was three huge stones in the wall of this 
 temple. One is sixty-four feet long, thirteen feet 
 thick and seventeen feet wide. Another is sixty- 
 three feet and eight inches long with the other 
 dimensions the same as the first, while the other is 
 even sixty-three feet with width and heighth the 
 same. These stones are about ten feet from the 
 foundation and are put together with such preci- 
 sion that a penknife blade will not go between them. 
 There is a stone down in the quarry a mile away 
 where these came from that is greater still. It is 
 fourteen by seventeen and sixty-nine feet long, 
 weighing about one thousand tons. It is left in the 
 quarry unfinished. Either the workmen struck or 
 the machinery broke down, either of which would 
 not seem improbable. This temple when finished, 
 and covered with gold, must have been a grand 
 sight standing there upon the high hill facing the 
 sunrise. It could be seen for miles and must have 
 made a great impression on those people who were 
 so easily led to idolatrous worship. 
 
 Some of our party almost lost their wits trying 
 to think how these great stones were moved a mile 
 up hill and put in the side of the wall, along with 
 unravelling some other mysteries of the building. 
 Expert engineers of our time have not been able to 
 bid for the contract. We exhausted all the theories 
 we could think of and they all seemed inadequate. 
 It seemed to me something had to be done to relieve 
 the anxiety of some of them, so I gave notice I had 
 worked out the theory beyond all doubt. It was a 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 413 
 
 heathen temple and the Lord didn't have anything 
 to do with it. Man couldn't build it, therefore the 
 devil did it. It had been a long time since I studied 
 Logic, but I thought I would risk this. The devil 
 wanted to build him a temple over here that would 
 rival Solomon's in Jerusalem, so he got a big crowd 
 of little devils and middle-size devils to help him, 
 and they dug out these big rocks and pillars and 
 some pitched them up there, while others caught 
 them and put them in place like men laying brick. 
 My theory seemed more plausible than any advanced 
 and was accepted. Before I took leave I purchased 
 from the learned French Professor who had charge 
 of these ruins a book he has written on their his- 
 tory, and in reading the theories advanced as to the 
 construction, to my surprise I found that before 
 the days of Christ it was believed the devil did 
 build it. 
 
 Our Sabbath was profitable and interesting medi- 
 tating in such scenes, and walking beside these flow- 
 ing streams in the midst of fruit gardens under the 
 shadow of Lebanon. Poor would be the heart that 
 such a Sabbath would not bless. After supper we 
 met in the hotel for a religious service. It was my 
 privilege to preside over this service while Dr. Best 
 preached an excellent sermon. 
 
 On Monday we went to the station for our last 
 day's journey to the sea. I was thinking of the 
 days ahead of us when on the Mediterranean, fruit 
 would be scarce and mutton plentiful, so Brother 
 Williams and myself purchased from a man at the 
 station a basket of the largest and most delicious 
 
414 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 apricots I have ever seen. The basket was a nice 
 one, made in the Lebanons, and held about a peck. 
 We ate those apricots and will never forget them. 
 The basket I brought all the way home and have it 
 on the table now. The price was two francs forty 
 cents. We divided with some of the ladies who 
 were threatened with seasickness. 
 
 We told Philip and his brothers good-bye, and it 
 seemed like parting with brothers. They took the 
 boat for Joppa and we boarded a ship by way of 
 Egypt. The sun sank lower and lower beyond the 
 waters of the Mediterranean casting its soft mantle 
 of evening light upon the Lebanons and the shore- 
 line of Palestine. For a little time the land seemed 
 transfigured in the twilight as we gazed on it from 
 the deck of our boat, thinking of the things we had 
 seen and felt, and the history that land had written. 
 
 Then the light faded, the night came, and the stars 
 came out, the land faded from our eyes but not from 
 our hearts. The breath of the night was on our 
 faces, the waves were singing at our boat side, as 
 our ship turned her nose to the out-bound seas and 
 set her strength to the wheel. Our journey in Pales- 
 tine was ended. No, it had just begun. Until we 
 land on the Promised Hills of Everlasting Life our 
 hearts will travel those paths over and over again. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 COMING HOME THRU CLOUDS OF WAR. 
 
 (August, 1914) 
 
 Rev. W. E. Gibson, D. D., and myself left our 
 party in Rome and headed homeward. We had 
 heard grave rumblings of war. The others begged 
 us to stay with them and go on to France. The 
 plan was to colonize when travel ceased and call 
 for Uncle Sam to help us. But we were bent on 
 going. Somewhat dazed we told them goodbye, and 
 went to the ticket office to have our tickets endorsed. 
 We were to sail on a German boat. Imagine our 
 surprise when we were told no German ship was on 
 the seas. France, Russia and Germany were at 
 war and England was likely to act at any minute. 
 The ships of these nations were all ordered interned 
 where they were and their flags were off the seas. 
 
 While we stood dazed trying to take this in, an 
 American woman rushed by and demanded twenty- 
 seven tickets to America. She had a party of teach- 
 ers who must get home for school. I waited, for 
 I, too, wanted to go home, and I thought if that sis- 
 ter went, I would swing on to her apron string or 
 anything else I could hold and go with her. The 
 ticket man told her she could not go unless she got 
 on the Conopic, an English boat in Naples, one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles away. She was due to sail to- 
 morrow at 5:30 P. M. She might intern or she 
 might go to England. 
 
 "Wire down there for our passage," cried the 
 schoolmarm, as tho it must be done. 
 
416 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 "There is no use, madam, the Government has 
 confiscated the wires. If I could wire, they would 
 not hold passage for you. There are fifty thousand 
 folks who will want to go on that boat by tomorrow. 
 Your only hope is to go to Naples and try." 
 
 "When does the train go?" 
 
 "At 10. It is 9:40 now." 
 
 "I can't get my party together." 
 
 I heard no more. I caught Gibson by the coat tail 
 and yanked him out into the street. We caught the 
 first cab driver we could find, yelled "Macaroni 
 depot" in his ear and gave him two francs. He 
 broke the speed limit and dumped us in the station. 
 We yelled, "Cook, Cook," and the agent of Thomas 
 Cook & Sons, the tourists' friend, came. We gave 
 him money to buy our tickets and tipped him. As 
 the wheels of the Naples train began to turn, he 
 shoved us in a section of a car occupied by two 
 American ladies and a handsome Italian lady. We 
 leaned forward to help that train make time. The 
 glorious history of these hills and the processions 
 that long ago moved on the Apian way were not in 
 our meditations. 
 
 Before the train halted by the beautiful Bay of 
 Naples, we hit the ground running. We stormed 
 another cab driver, put money in his hand and made 
 him understand. He seemed to think our mission 
 urgent and he gave old Dobbin gas and opened wide 
 his accelerator. We entered the German Steamship 
 office and asked for money back on our tickets. 
 Strange to say, we got it. I have never heard of 
 anyone else who did. 
 
mAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 417 
 
 Then we hurried to the English office nearby 
 and got in line. They were coming from Dan to 
 Beersheba and all of them wanted to go to New York. 
 When our turn came he asked us what he could do 
 for us. We told him nothing under the sun unless 
 he could sell us a ticket out of Italy on the Canopic. 
 As we spoke, we could see her swinging on her 
 anchor, the Union Jack flying in the breeze and a 
 boat and a flag never looked so beautiful. Our flag 
 was not there and our hearts went out in admira- 
 tion for the British Flag. Great Old Flag! The 
 Germans never did drive it off the seas. The whole 
 world America included, owes much to the British 
 flag. 
 
 The ticket agent said he was not sure he could 
 get us on the boat. It was now beyond its capacity. 
 He looked over the list once and found nothing. 
 Our hearts were sinking and all the music we could 
 think of was, "My Country 'tis of Thee, Sweet Land 
 of Liberty." He looked again and his pencil halted 
 almost at the bottom of the last page of the sail- 
 ing list. 
 
 "I want to accommodate you gentlemen but the 
 only place we have is a room that is already occu- 
 pied by a gentleman, who travels our line every 
 summer. He is very particular about rooming by 
 himself and purchased pjassage with the undeiv 
 standing that he was to have the room to himself. 
 It is a small room and if you can make it satisfactory 
 with him, I will sell you a ticket." 
 
 We assured him he could trust us to fix the mat- 
 ter with that gentleman, and we were not concerned 
 
418 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 about his name or his nationality. We got the 
 tickets and got aboard. We found the room which 
 was about half as big as a half grown pantry. We 
 put our goods where we could and took charge. 
 After a while, the occupant came in. We advanced, 
 introduced ourselves and told him this was our room 
 to New York and we would be glad for him to share 
 it with us provided he had no other place. 
 
 We did not have room to go to bed at the same 
 time and had to do it on the installment plan. Having 
 been raised in the country, the place everybody 
 should be raised if he can possibly arrange it, I 
 like to go to bed early and get early. (In the country 
 we do not retire and rise, we go to bed and get up) 
 so I drew the first shift. Gibson came next and the 
 new man last. He was a Quaker preacher and his 
 name was Welch. He must not be confused with the 
 Methodist Welch heretofore and hereinafter men- 
 tioned. He was not kin to the other Welch but 
 was just as expert in some lines as the Methodist is 
 in others. When I learned he was a Quaker 
 preacher, I knew trouble was ahead. I believed in 
 pouring for Baptism, Gibson believed in dipping 
 and Welch didn't take any kind. Gibson believed 
 in close communion, I believed in falling from Grace 
 and Welch believed in wearing his hat in the house, 
 and in doing when the spirit moved him. To mix 
 such a conglomeration in a pantry room for ten 
 nights in time of war is enough to cause spontaneous 
 combustion. Just as well try to mix the germs of 
 Germany, the microbes of Iceland and the atoms of 
 the atmosphere in a bottle and expect to keep in 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 419 
 
 the stopper, as to but these three in a little room to 
 sleep and expect things to stay normal. And Tom- 
 my son, things did happen. It was as spicy a pud- 
 ding as ever you tasted. If you listen I will tell you. 
 
 Old Vesuvius was belching out fire against the 
 Italian sky as we set sail. The stokers struck for 
 the war was on and if a boat sinks what chance does 
 the man at the furnace have? They were persuaded 
 to return. Folks offered thousands of dollars for 
 standing room on the boat. An Italian Count stole 
 on and hid himself until we were well out at sea. 
 A wealthy couple who went over with us and lived 
 in style in Paris went back in the steerage. A man 
 purchased passage for his wife, sending her to the 
 children while he remained behind. 
 
 The first bulletin on the wireless the first morning 
 told us two submarines were behind us and had 
 blown up a transport, carrying a thousand soldiers. 
 The next told us submarines were working on the 
 ocean front. The next morning the board said, 
 "Owing to the gravity of the situation, the captain 
 deems it best to withhold further information. 
 England declared war yesterday." Lights were 
 ordered out and the ship crept out on the wide old 
 sea in utter darkness. When we went to our bunks 
 to sleep, we felt a torpedo might summon us to the 
 judgment before morning. Looking back, the hard- 
 est thing on me was wondering about the folks at 
 home. I wired my wife I was on the Canopic, but 
 would she get it? What worries the home folks 
 must face ! Two things did not fail me the Grace 
 of God and my sense of good humor. 
 
420 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 That Quaker could do more things, going to bed 
 and getting up than any man I ever saw. I did 
 not know there were so many things in the catalog. 
 He went to a wall pocket at the foot of my couch 
 and fumbled after the blacking and the brush 
 tickling my toes as he did it. Among my peculiari- 
 ties is, I do not like for people to tickle my toes when 
 I am trying to go asleep. When he blacked his shoes, 
 he replaced the outfit and tickled my toes as he did 
 it. He then went to the head of my couch where he 
 kept his toilet articles. He got out his clothes brush 
 scratching and fumbling as he did it. He brushed 
 his clothes, creased and folded them and gently 
 placed them under his bunk. He went back to the 
 wall pocket, got out his shaving outfit. His razor 
 was an ancient type and his stropping process was 
 enough to break up the peace of a department house. 
 He stropped and soaped and shaved. Then he got 
 out of that pocket, three different tubes of concoc- 
 tion to put on his face. One I suppose was to pre- 
 vent chapping, one to prevent wrinkles and one to 
 preserve beauty. 
 
 I am not finding fault with him for using these. 
 He needed them. If there is anything on earth men 
 and women can do to improve their faces, they ought 
 to do it. If some of them have two faces, they ought 
 to wear the other one. 
 
 Then he brushed his teeth and washed out his 
 mouth with three kinds of anti-germ killing sani- 
 tary preparations. Then he brushed the few re- 
 maining hairs that remained on his pate, soothed 
 and fertilized them with three persuasive fluids he 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 421 
 
 hoped would coax them to linger a few more moons. 
 Next he took from under his bunk a portfolio and 
 brought out some things he said were landscapes he 
 painted in northen Italy, for he said in addition to 
 being a preacher, he was an artist. And when a 
 preacher takes to art or golf, you better sing an 
 offertory and let the ushers pass the plates. The 
 things may have been landscapes, but in the dim 
 light allowed us, they looked like billy-goats. After 
 this, he said his prayers, as every saint and sinner 
 ought to do in time of peace as well as war, and 
 then at last he went thru some bodily manipulations 
 called physical or silly culture and got in bed. It 
 took him one hour and fifteen minutes to render the 
 program without any encores. 
 
 But the worst of it was, he gave us a matinee at 
 3 A. M. That is where and when I bucked. It is 
 where and when the Methodist and Baptist's faith 
 combined to persecute the Quaker. I said to Gibson 
 the next morning, 
 
 "If that fellow thinks we are going to submit to 
 that matinee, the telephone girl gave him the wrong 
 number." 
 
 "I will stand by you in anything you do to him 
 unless you kill him," said the Baptist. 
 
 "Leave it to me," I answered. "If he starts the 
 matinee tonight, something will happen on the high 
 seas." 
 
 About 2:30 A. M. he started the first number on 
 the matinee program. It was his physical exercise. 
 Then he came to the second number. He sat down 
 
422 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 on his feet, took out his portfolio with a hideous 
 rattling of stiff paper and began to look at his land- 
 scapes. No light was on save the moon shinng in 
 the porthole and gleaming on his bald head that 
 looked like a Bermuda onion in an Italian restaurant. 
 I quietly removed my blanket, got myself up so I 
 could act and without his knowing, I had moved, I 
 leaped down upon him, got him by his night shirt 
 collar and yelled like a Camanchee Indian ready to 
 tomahawk him and wear his scalp away, on my belt. 
 He leaped up and yelled, "Have the Germans got 
 us?" and went in his bunk with such a vim, he almost 
 went thru the wall. I turned about a time or two, 
 muttered something, kicked up my heels and got 
 back in bed. The next morning, he awoke looking 
 at me and asked me if he could get up. I told him 
 he could, and he dressed and got out in seven 
 minutes. That night he poked his head in the door 
 and asked if he could go to bed. I told him he could 
 and he got in bed in seven minutes. 
 
 He suddenly concluded I was in the habit of 
 having fits which is true. It was on this trip down 
 in Egypt, I contracted the habit of having fits. I 
 was riding in a carriage with a lady and two gentle- 
 men when we came to a dirty street full of bad look- 
 ing characters. They blocked the traffic and be- 
 sieged us. Some of them looked like canibals and 
 did like they wanted to use us for a picnic stew. 
 They surrounded us, begging, pleading, muttering. 
 They tried to get in our carriage and got their 
 hands in our pockets. We begged and threatened 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 423 
 
 but it seemed to do no good. I had learned they 
 were very susceptible to supernatural things. Any- 
 thing spooky got on their nerves. I suddenly won- 
 dered what they would do if I had a fit. I knew if 
 I didn't have one the lady would and I wanted to 
 get ahead of her. I was raised in a southern atmos- 
 phere that will make a man do anything for a lady, 
 so I had the fit. I rolled my eyes about like a sick 
 calf, chewed my tongue and slobbered like a mad 
 dog, growled like a wild beast and pulled at my 
 clothes like a lunatic. It worked, for they cleared 
 the street and left us free to go our way. After 
 that when they needed me, they called for me to have 
 a fit and it worked. It will always work. If you 
 have any undesirable company, you try this on them 
 some day and you will see how well it works. 
 
 But I am not as naughty as all of this sounds. 
 I have a true and tender heart. A few nights after 
 this, I was awake thinking of my sweetheart 
 and the little ones across the wide waters. I re- 
 membered that the last letter said the little girl 
 said, "I dot no daddy now. He went over the big 
 boshen and big fish et him up." I heard the waves 
 rolling by the boat side as she plowed westward 
 thru the death infested sea and the song they seemed 
 to sing was, "I am nearer my home today than I 
 have ever been before." 
 
 Just then, I heard Welch groan like he was sick 
 and I put my hand out in the dark to touch him, 
 He yelled and Gibson said, 
 
 "Shake him. He has a nightmare." 
 
424 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 I shook him with both hands and he yelled still 
 louder. Gibson was up and helping me. We shook 
 him and beat him, thinking if we did not awake 
 him, he would die. Some girls in the next room 
 began to cry and ask if the Germans had captured 
 the boat. Some folks came running in and made a 
 light. At last he was awake and he fell back on his 
 pillow saying, 
 
 "It was awful. It was awful." 
 
 "What was it?" asked Gibson. 
 
 "An old bull was after me, running me around a 
 tree," he said, "And when you hit me, I thought he 
 had hooked me clean thru." 
 
 Then I laughed. I had not laughed much for 
 several days for there had not been much to make 
 me laugh. I cannot keep well long without laughing. 
 Now I forgot mines and submarines as I saw a 
 Quaker preacher running around a tree in his 
 night clothes and a mad bull hot on his trail. 
 
 Our wireless man picked up a message that two 
 German war ships were waiting for us at the Azores. 
 We changed our course, went one hundred mile3 
 north and beat them in the race for American 
 waters. The New York office wirelessed for us but 
 we could not answer. Then the report was started 
 that the German warships had captured us and 
 carried us to Germany as prisoners of war. This 
 was wired to my home in Richmond and for five 
 days my wife believed it. But in seven minutes 
 after I was on American soil, I had my phone ring- 
 ing in Richmond and my loved ones knew I had 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 425 
 
 safely landed. Down into old Virginia I came my 
 heart singing with Van Dyke, 
 
 "Home again ! home again ! America for me, 
 My heart is turning home again to my own 
 
 Country; 
 Back to the land of room enough 
 
 Beyond the ocean bars, 
 Where the air is full of freedom 
 And the flag is full of stars. 
 
DEPARTMENT OF STATE 
 
 Washington, June 15, 1921. 
 To the Diplomatic and Consular Officers of the 
 
 United States of America: 
 Gentlemen : 
 
 At the instance of the Honorable Claude A. 
 Swanson, Senator of the United States from the 
 State of Virginia, I take pleasure in introducing to 
 you the Reverend J. M. Rowland of Lynchburg, Vir- 
 ginia, who is about to proceed abroad. 
 
 I cordially bespeak for the Reverend Mr. Rowland 
 such courtesies and assistance as you may be able 
 to render, consistently with your official duties. 
 I am, Gentlemen, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 HENRY P. FLETCHER, 
 Acting Secretary of State. 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF VIRGINIA, UNITED 
 
 STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Governor's Office 
 
 Richmond, June 11, 1921. 
 
 To Whom It May Concern: 
 
 Reverend J. M. Rowland, of Lynchburg, Virginia, 
 proposes to take a party through Palestine, Egypt 
 and Europe this summer for the purpose of travel 
 and study, returning via London for the World 
 Methodist Conference. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 427 
 
 I desire to commend Reverend Mr. Rowland, who 
 is a Methodist minister in Virginia, and a gentle- 
 man of high character and distinguished attain- 
 ments, to officials and those with whom he has to 
 do during his trip. 
 
 WESTMORELAND DAVIS, 
 
 Governor of Virginia. 
 
 BISHOPS ROOM 
 
 PUBLISHING HOUSE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH 
 
 Richmond, Virginia, United States of America 
 
 May 27, 1921. 
 Rev. J. M. Rowland, the pastor of the Rivermont 
 Methodist Church, of Lynchburg, Va., is personally 
 known to me, and is altogether reliable. It is his 
 purpose to conduct a party through Palestine, Egypt, 
 and Europe, and he asks me, as one of the Bishops 
 of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and as 
 Secretary of the College of Bishops, to commend 
 him to the Government authorities as a reliable 
 citizen and minister. Rev. Mr. Rowland can be fully 
 trusted as a patriotic American, and as an honorable 
 gentleman. Any statement he may make can be 
 relied on. 
 
 COLLINS DENNY, 
 Secretary of the College of Bishops, Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church, South. 
 
428 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 TRIBUTE FROM THE PARTY. 
 
 WHEREAS our party of sixteen, Wicker Tour 
 No. 4, 1921, have travelled together most pleasantly 
 and profitably from New York, visiting Baal-Bek, 
 Damascus, the Holy Land and Egypt, and 
 
 WHEREAS we are now about to separate after 
 six weeks of happy comradeship 
 
 THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED: 
 
 1st. That we thank our capable friend and con- 
 ductor, Rev. J. M. Rowland of Lynchburg, Virginia, 
 for the efficient and courteous way he has managed 
 the excursion of Tour 4 through these countries and 
 that we congratulate him upon his success as a 
 director. 
 
 2nd. That we extend our thanks and apprecia- 
 tion to George Jallouk, the best of Oriental guides, 
 for his unfailing courtesy, and thoughtf ulness and we 
 especially express our appreciation to him and his 
 good wife for their hospitable entertainment of our 
 party at their home in Jerusalem. 
 
 3rd. That a copy of these resolutions be for- 
 warded Dr. J. J. Wicker, and a copy to Rev. J. M. 
 Rowland, and a copy to George Jallouk. 
 
 W. H. T. SQUIRES, Sec'y. 
 Done by Unanimous vote 
 
 Cairo, Egypt, Aug. 10, 1921. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 429 
 
 OUR 1921 PARTY. 
 
 Rev. J. M. Rowland, Editor Richmond Christian 
 Advocate, Conductor of the Party, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Rev. W. H. T. Squires, D. D., Pastor Knox Pres- 
 byterian Church, Norfolk, Va. 
 
 Rev. E. R. Welch, Pastor Chestnut Ave. Methodist 
 Church, Asheville, N. C. 
 
 Rev. A. L. Stanford, Pastor Main St. Methodist 
 Church, Gastonia, N. C 
 
 Rev. C. M. Pickens, Pastor First Methodist Church, 
 Morganton, N. C. 
 
 Rev. T. J. C. Heath, Pastor Zion Methodist Church, 
 Norfolk, Va. 
 
 Rev. A. P. Ralledge, Pastor Methodist Church, 
 Elkins, N. C. 
 
 Miss Estelle Warlick, Professor Bible, Davenport 
 College, Lenoir, N. C. 
 
 Mr. F. D. McKenney, Furniture Dealer, Peters- 
 burg, Va. 
 
 Mr. J. N. Jarrett and wife, Vice-President Im- 
 perial Insurance Co., Raleigh, N. C. 
 
 Mr. J. P. Jarrett, retired business man, Raleigh, 
 N. C. 
 
 Miss Oliver Widdowson, Missionary, China. 
 
 Miss Emma Horning, Missionary to India. 
 
 Mr. A. W. Short, merchant, Bloxom, Va. 
 
 Mr. I. G. Jenkins, Y. M. C. A., Sect'y., Detroit, 
 Mich. 
 
430 TRAVELS IN THE OLD WORLD 
 
 EUROPEAN SECTION OF THE PARTY. 
 
 This party joined our party at Naples and con- 
 tinued with us the rest of the tour through Europe. 
 
 Rev. J. J. Wicker, D. D. Evangelist and Director 
 of the Wicker Tours. 
 
 Mrs. J. J. Wicker, of Richmond, Va. 
 
 Rev. G. T. Rowe, D. D., S. T. D., Book Editor 
 Methodist Church, South, Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 Rev. J. H. Barnhart, D. D., Pastor West Market 
 Methodist Church, Greensboro, N. C. 
 
 Rev. V. C. Curtis, D. D., Pastor First Methodist 
 Church, Greenwood, Miss. 
 
 Mr. J. A. Dornan, merchant, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Mrs. J. A. Winston, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Mr. W. Winston, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Mrs. M. E. Gathright, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Miss Wingo, Richmond, Va. 
 
 Miss Margaret Webb, Atlanta, Ga. 
 
 Miss Pauline Jones, Portsmouth, Va. 
 
 Mrs. B. 0. Gratz, Lexington, Ky. 
 
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