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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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