# A Modern Pilgrimage to Palestine

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> Source: Bahá'í Library Online (bahai-library.com), curated by Jonah Winters. Used by permission of the curator. Original citation: Lovell Bearse Pemberton, A Modern Pilgrimage to Palestine, bahai-library.com.
> ──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
> 
> MODEL   OF THE   BAHAI   TEMPLE   AT   CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
> /Ifcobern                   pilgrimage
> to
> 
> Palestine
> 
> X. . pemberton
> 
> Will UluBlrattoitB from pr,QtoorjirjB bg tl|r atrtlior
> 
> DORRANCE                      AND                  COMPANY
> PUBLISHERS             PHILADELPHIA                              MCMXXV
> COPYRIGHT 1928
> DORRANCE Ok COMPANY INC
> 
> MANUFACTURED IN THE   UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
> preface
> The reader        whether he be of the
> busy, gentle or
> otherwise      variety    has
> undoubtedly noticed that almost
> every book is decked out with a preface, and not wish
> ing to overlook any of the customary rules or amenities,
> we will endeavor "to
> keep within the etiquettes."
> In a general way a preface seems to be a sort of
> bulwark behind which the author hides, and hastening
> to set up thereon the names of everybody he can blame
> for having been implicated in any way whether by
> urging, advising or assisting the author in writing his
> book.
> Looking at it in this way, our task is comparatively
> easy, as these pages would have remained unwritten
> if a certain diminutive but persistent editress had not
> extracted the   promise of the first instalment. In this
> respect    ourposition is not unique, as the same thing
> has often happened before from the very beginning of
> sacred history the lady has been to blame!
> We also wish to warn the reader that before reaching
> The End of the Trail a chapter will be found labeled
> Hints to Travelers, which we trust will not be taken
> too seriously.   Our only object in mentioning this is to
> prevent the reader from forming the same opinion as
> that of   a    New York      critic, who writes that "The Hints
> to    Travelers   are    most   practical!"      They were certainly
> not    meant     to    be so, but   were      supposed to be taken
> cum grano     salisl
> preface
> 
> Finally,   it is to be   hoped   that the    following pages
> will be appreciated and enjoyed by two classes of people,
> viz.: those who travel, and those who do not. Some of
> the former, who may enjoy revisiting old scenes; and
> a better
> many of the latter, who possibly may have had
> time by staying comfortably at home, avoiding the
> monotony of omelettes and          spaghetti   and the   inquis-
> itiveness of the ubiquitous         official.
> customs
> 
> Should anyone else, failing to come under either of
> the above classifications,   happen to straggle along, they
> are equally welcome to climb aboard. For after all the
> old Spanish proverb is not far wrong when it says:
> "He who would bring home the wealth of the Indies
> must carry the   wealth of the Indies with him."
> L. B. P.
> Contents
> CHAPTER                                                  PAGE
> 
> I    The First Step                                  13
> II    London in February                              22
> III     In Gay Paree                                    27
> IV     Through Switzerland                             33
> V     Impressions of Italy                            40
> VI      On the Mediterranean                            49
> VII     In the Land of the Pharaohs                     56
> VIII     From Egypt to Palestine                         66
> IX     The New Bahai Temple                            74
> X     What the Bahai Movement Is                      82
> XI     Haifa to Tiberias                               90
> XII     Interviews With Abdul Baha                      97
> XIII     Snapshots on the Sea of Galilee                 105
> XIV      From the Sea of Galilee to Jerusalem            110
> XV      In Jerusalem                                    117
> XVI      Jerusalem Continued                             130
> XVII      Mosque of Omar and the Via Dolorosa             137
> XVIII      A Day at Bethlehem                              143
> XIX      From the Mount of Olives to Mount Zion   ...    150
> XX      Last Days in Jerusalem                          155
> XXI      From Jerusalem to Cairo                         161
> XXII      Here and There in Cairo                         166
> XXIII      Cairo to Alexandria                             172
> XXIV       How the Pyramids Were Built                     178
> XXV      Woman's Sphere in the Orient                    184
> XXVI      The Future of Bahaism                           190
> XXVII      On the Good Ship Esperia                        198
> XXVIII     From Naples to Paris                            202
> XXIX     A Glimpse of Paris                              209
> XXX      Playgrounds of Children and Kings              218
> XXXI     From Paris to New York                          225
> XXXII      Hints to Travelers                             230
> XXXIII     Transportation Problems                         240
> XXXIV      Dress, Tips and Guides                          252
> XXXV      The End of the Trail                            260
> ICfst of Uttustratfons
> Model of the Bahai Temple at Chicago, Illinois.   .
> .Frontispiece
> PACING PAGE
> 
> Looking Down From the Ruins of the Palaces of the
> Caesars                                                     44
> 
> Garden of Rizwan, Near Haifa                                    92
> Abdul Baha                                                     100
> 
> The Garden of Gethsemane                                       121
> 
> Statue of Joan of Arc in The Madeleine, Paris                  205
> H flfoobem pilgrimage to Palestine
> I
> 
> The First Step
> 
> Everyone who makes a journey, if only to the next
> county, makes a record of the fact.                 This may take the
> form of        a   hurried   personal letter, or a picture postcard
> on    the restricted         margin of which        is found such trite
> remarks as, "Well              here   we   are!"
> perhaps, "Having
> or
> 
> a glorious time," or something like this, "Just leaving
> here for X    ," all of which is supposed to be read with
> avidity (and possibly with envy) by the dear ones
> at   home!
> The   point is, travelers write about their travels!           At
> least I have been told that this is the       by many    case
> 
> people, including a few publishers (who are undoubtedly
> well-informed in such matters), by publishers' editors
> and agents, and by eminent critics, to say nothing of
> ordinary laymen. In fact, having been told the same
> thing so many times, and by so many different persons,
> I have         come   to     the conclusion that it must be true!
> And     I have written the following.
> so
> 
> might as well be stated here and now that the
> It
> ensuing pages were originally written with two objects
> in view: to enlighten the home folks on present con
> ditions        abroad, and to enliven the columns of our local
> paper.
> Having served to a limited extent its original dual
> purpose, the "busy reader" is now supposed to take the
> 
> [13]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> place of the "regular subscriber," and without stopping
> to comment on   whether or not it is the "first step that
> counts," or expatiate on the proper way to write an
> introduction, we will haul in the gang-plank of apology,
> and proceed with our journey.
> Arriving in New York on January 11th we found the
> thermometer hovering around ten degrees above zero.
> A  biting gale with it making things very lively espe
> cially around the old Flat-Iron Building.
> Our party at that time consisted of Mr. Bourgeois,
> a prominent architect of New York, and his wife, the
> 
> eldest daughter of the late Paul de Longpre, and the
> writer   who   had   been   hibernating   in   California   for
> 
> nearly twenty years.
> Our cabins had been engaged on the famous German
> lineriImperatur, thelargest steamer then afloat. Owing
> to heavy  storms which  had continued during its entire
> 
> voyage over from France, it had barely time
> to dock,
> 
> make repairs and stock up in time to leave on the return
> trip. We were four hours late in leaving, but we had
> no sooner lost sight of land than the weather became
> 
> mild, and for the whole voyage      we    had sunshine and
> 
> regular California climate for which my friends gave
> me due credit.    Our only disappointment was the poor
> time  we  were  making, due to poor coal with which the
> vessel had been supplied. After the first day we made
> about three hundred miles per day, and consequently
> were nine days in reaching Southampton.
> 
> Here we boarded a funny little train for London a
> train of toy-like cars which might have been the inspira-
> 
> [14]
> The First Step
> 
> tion of a certain            man   who has built several millions of
> popular automobiles in Detroit, which are now so uni
> versally used and abused that we saw them in every city
> we   visited, even observing them rambling along the Sea
> of Galilee.           On the journey to London we
> greatly    were
> 
> impressed by            the number and
> variety        chimney-of the
> tops. An ordinary cottage would have anywhere from
> twelve to twenty of them, and looking over the villages
> which were old and very picturesque there was
> everywhere a forest of chimney-tops of all shapes and
> sizes.
> In   our    hotel in London         we   found that every room
> had       its fireplace, and all         these millions of chimneys
> were       sending up little wreaths of smoke into the dull
> sky.       Sometimes all this smoke returns to earth               as   we
> 
> discovered        adaysfew          later.
> During our stay in London the sun was kind enough
> to shine, or rather made a gallant attempt to do so, for
> a total of about half an hour each day.  Between times
> we were treated to cold fogs and drizzling rain. Under
> these conditions sight-seeing was rather difficult, but
> we     did      our   best and went to St. Paul's and twice to
> Westminster            Abbey, although        we   were   unable   to   see
> 
> the ceilings of either building on account of the obscur
> ing gloom and haze. After visiting a few other places
> of interest, we decided to move                on   and try to find       a
> 
> little warmth and sunshine.
> On themorning of our departure, we woke up to
> find ourselves enveloped in a real London fog some
> thing that cannot be exaggerated. It was of the famous
> 
> [15]
> A Modern       Pilgrimage
> 
> "pea soup" order, absolutely impenetrable to the human
> eye, and boasting a peculiar flavor not pleasant to taste.
> Sitting in the taxi it was impossible to see the radiator
> of the car, and how we managed to safely reach the
> railroad station will always remain a mystery.        We
> learned later that it was the worst fog Londoners had
> known for twenty years. The police reported two hun
> dred    accidents       on   the    Strand       alone,   two    street    cars
> 
> collided   at   Victoria Street Station and               over   ninety peo
> ple    were   injured.       All the libraries and          museums        and
> many     business       houses     closed    for    the day and traffic
> was    suspended.        We    were   very       grateful, however, that
> the London weather should have run so more than true
> to    form for    our   benefits.
> From London we took the train to Dover and crossed
> the    Channel     to    Calais, expecting          to    have   a   few    un
> 
> pleasant      thrills   on   the way,       as   the weather had been
> very rough, but again we were pleasantly disappointed.
> The water was smooth as a mill-pond and after an
> hour's ride      we     reached Calais in          good condition.         We
> encountered       an    army of porters at the
> dock,                       our   first
> experience       with
> foreign customs officials, which was
> thereafter to be oft repeated and much dreaded.     For
> tunately both of my friends spoke French and finally
> our baggage was inspected, passports vised and we were
> 
> on our way to Paris.    We were on a local train, as the
> regular boat-train had left with all seats and standing
> 
> room  taken by passengers who proposed to stand five
> hours rather than wait for the next train, so great was
> their desire to reach Paris!                As that way of           traveling
> 
> [16]
> The First Step
> 
> did not appeal to us, we waited a couple of hours for
> the next train and finally landed at the Hotel Lutetia in
> Paris at eleven o'clock at night, very tired and exceed
> ingly hungry. Since the usual breakfast of porridge and
> marmalade, taken in London, we had been able to secure
> nothing but a glass of milk and some rolls, so we started
> out to see what we could           find.
> We    soon discovered that in the interest of economy
> all business houses in Paris closed early and all the res
> taurants    were   dark and deserted.          Finally we found a
> Brasserie    a   place   where beer is       sold   and   prevailed   on
> 
> the attendant to make         us    some    coffee and sandwiches.
> Our   trip from Calais to Paris was our first introduc
> tion to the  European custom of dispensing with dining-
> cars, or  even  stops for meals everyone being expected
> to either take their provender along, or fast.  Later on
> we also learned that on certain lines sleeping cars were
> 
> to be had three times per week, and on other nights,
> 
> if you wished to sleep, you could do so sitting up, pro
> vided you had a good conscience and were sufficiently
> exhausted.
> After a    refreshing sleep        on    the most wonderful beds
> in the world      started out to explore Paris, and here
> we
> 
> we   must short-cut; as to attempt a description would
> take more space than this chapter would permit. Every
> thing was so wonderful and the people so charming,
> that Paris remains the most            delightful of all the places
> we   visited,    and the    one    place of which I, personally,
> would never grow tired. Our schedule called for a stop
> of five days in Paris, which was increased to nine, with
> 
> [17]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> a   promise of three or four more days on the return trip.
> From Paris we went to Geneva, Switzerland, motored
> along Lake Geneva to the foot of Mt. Blanc, visited
> the celebrated watch works and the    League of Nations
> Building,        then   on    to    capital of the Swiss
> Berne, the
> Republic, where they   were holding Parliament in three
> languages Italian, French and German. Here we vis
> ited the old bear pit, where four animated emblems of
> the Swiss Federation are confined.     We inspected the
> famous old clock towers, and   in the  evening enjoyed a
> German    opera at the Stadt             theatre.        We   found   Berne
> a   charming and lively place,           more    German than French,
> and very picturesque.     Leaving by a morning train, we
> had a beautiful trip     through the snow-covered Alps,
> and after plunging through twenty-two tunnels among
> them the famous St. Gotthard we came out into Italy.
> "Beyond the Alps lies Italy!" But somehow it did
> not measure up to our high expectations.
> On reaching Milan, we stopped at the Grand Hotel de
> Ville, an old "palazzo" converted into a hotel, and after
> settling ourselves started out for a stroll. After saunter
> ing along for a few blocks we reached an open square
> where       the    great Gothic Cathedral of Milan                rose   up
> before      us    in the     moonlight    one    of the real thrills of
> the   trip.
> After     visiting the Castello,       Art      Galleries, Museums
> and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele                   an    arcade formed
> in the   shape      of a cross, with
> shops                 on   all sides and the
> whole covered with  glass we took an evening train to
> Venice, in our haste neglecting to take along any pro-
> 
> [18]
> The First Step
> 
> visions except a few oranges and some chocolates.                              Con
> sequently,       when      we    arrived at Venice and boarded
> a
> 
> gondola,   we were  not in any  condition to enjoy our
> 
> midnight ride of three-quarters of an hour to our hotel
> on the Grand Canal, where we succeeded in persuading
> 
> our    host to     serve    us   lunch in          our   rooms.
> 
> Engaging     a    gondola        the next         morning, we passed St.
> Mark's and the Doge's Palace, visited the Murano Glass
> Works, the famous Lace Works, and other places of
> interest.    We soon discovered that the smaller the canal
> the greater        was     the odor, until              finally    we   were   com
> 
> pelled     to return to the
> hotel,                    as   the odor was not        only
> disagreeable but overpowering.                      We were assured by our
> host and others that in two or three months the tide
> would turn, clean out all the canals and eliminate the
> odor.
> But as our time was somewhat limited, we proceeded
> to   Florence, where we spent five very pleasant days and
> met many         charming people.             It is claimed that Florence
> is the intellectual center of Italy and destined to be
> the birthplace of a "world Renaissance." After having
> become convinced of this it       disconcerting to learn
> was
> 
> that three days after we left the city a riot broke out;
> machine guns were planted in the square in front of our
> hotel; all trains and street car traffic suspended, the
> city placed under martial law and no one was allowed
> to leave.
> From Florence         we    went        to    Rome.          Arriving in the
> evening      we    decided       to    see    St.      Peter's     by moonlight.
> It   was   not    an   easy task to          explain to the cabman that
> 
> [19]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> we    wanted simply to take a ride out to St. Peter's at
> that time of   night, but we finally managed to put it
> across and started.   Just before we reached there, how
> ever, the moon hid behind a cloud and remained there,
> so that the cabman's doubts as to our wisdom in making
> 
> the trip were fully justified.
> On the following day we visited a few of the eleven
> thousand rooms of the Vatican, the Sistine Chapel and
> St.   Peter's, with its immense circular colonnade.        But
> most of the three hundred and sixty-five churches which
> are   scattered all    over    Rome   we  had to pass by and
> content    ourselves    with    inspecting the old ruins the
> Coliseum, Baths of Caracalla, Caesar's Palaces and the
> Forum.
> We stood on the spot, now covered with ruins, where
> Caesar stood amidst the Roman Senators           on   the fatal
> day when he was stabbed.          A few hundred feet below us
> the old  Appian Way, its battered triumphal arches and
> fragments of marble columns sad commentaries on the
> transitoriness of earthly power and grandeur!   At the
> same time we were struck with the providence of the
> 
> Romans in preserving so many old things for the pleas
> ure   and benefit of the modern world        acres   of ancient
> ruins, art galleries, museums and gorgeous churches in
> which only one or two services are held each year; but
> open at all times to every sight-seer.
> From Rome to Naples is a pleasant ride of four hours
> by train; but with the exception of the Bay and Mt.
> Vesuvius, we found nothing there to claim our particular
> interest   not even    a   night drive down Spaghetti Alley,
> 
> [20]
> The First    Step
> 
> from which Dante        might have gathered      much    inspira
> tion for his Inferno!
> From   Naples   we    took the    steamer   Milano   across    the
> Mediterranean,    and after  delightful voyage
> a                          of     four
> and a half days landed at Alexandria, Egypt, where               we
> 
> enjoyed our first contact with the Orient.
> 
> [21]
> II
> 
> London in February
> 
> proceeding with our journey it might be well
> Before
> to pause for a moment and gather up a few experiences
> 
> and impressions of the countries through which we had
> just passed. Naturally, these must be somewhat cursory,
> as our limited time did not permit us to study any of
> 
> these countries in detail, but by careful consideration we
> soon learned to economize and cover considerable ground
> 
> in a short time.
> 
> Our usual procedure on arriving at a new hotel was
> to fill out the necessary blanks required by the police
> 
> department, stating our names in full, age, name of
> father and  mother, birthplace, present home address,
> name of place from which we had just come, destination,
> 
> the reasons for our coming and going, and various other
> knotty and            stupid questions. This took some
> apparently
> little   time,    as,   except   in    England,   the   blanks    were
> 
> Italian.
> Finally,            if         in
> printed in either French          or                             we
> 
> tended staying beyond a certain time, usually from three
> to five  days, our passports had to be handed over for
> inspection by the police department.
> While these preliminaries were being arranged we
> had set the concierge busy securing a guide and con
> more satisfactory to fee the
> veyance, having found it
> and   let him hire everything and
> concierge properly,
> settle all bills, as there is everywhere a strong tendency
> 
> [22]
> London in      February
> 
> to  overcharge and occasionally short-change the unwary
> stranger. Then with the aid of the guide and concierge
> a list was prepared of the finest streets, most prominent
> 
> buildings and other places of interest, together with the
> most direct way of reaching them.
> After a two or three days' tour, conducted along these
> lines, a good general idea of the city was obtained, and
> afterwards we were able to browse around more leisurely
> and intelligently by ourselves.
> But we started out to say something about conditions
> which we found existing in the various countries, and
> before doing so wish to state that we are recording
> simply our impressions and the things we happened to
> see     whichno doubt will differ from what anyone else
> 
> may   have  experienced. Any little criticisms that may
> creep  in are intended, not as fault-finding, but as foot
> notes    to actual              showing what particularly
> occurrences,
> impressed  passing group of
> a                   inquisitive Americans.
> In London except for the        big fog, which was the
> piece de resistance, the principal thing that attracted our
> attention was the tenacity of the English in clinging to
> old, and to our minds, antiquated, methods of doing busi
> ness.   Their monetary system of pounds, shillings and
> pence requires pencil, paper, complicated calculation
> and considerable time to make up an ordinary bill; while
> the Bank of England notes, printed on tough but plain
> white paper increasing in size as the denomination in
> creases   make an awkward and bulky package in con
> trast to our currency.    If you step on the
> drug-store
> scales to be weighed, you marvel at registering
> only
> 
> [23]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> 40    which you find is stones, and must be translated
> into pounds before you  can determine whether you are
> 
> gaining or losing.
> In London    we   had   our   first introduction to   narrow
> 
> thoroughfares, many of them with sidewalks not over
> three feet wide, while the street itself measured from
> ten to twelve feet from curb to curb.     Naturally the
> pedestrians took to the middle of the road and chances
> in dodging the cabs and taxis.
> Greater still was our surprise, in walking through the
> shopping district, to see the store windows being
> stripped of everything at closing time and heavy, corru
> gated iron shutters pulled down over the windows and
> locked for the night making the shops look like a row
> of warehouses, illuminated only by the dim gas lights
> on the street.    Window shopping in the evening is out
> of the question all through Europe and in Egypt, as
> practically all the stores were equipped with these iron
> shutters.
> One London custom       very perplexing to us, and
> was
> 
> only after a narrow escape from being run down did we
> fully realize that traffic regulations in England are the
> reverse of ours    vehicles passing along the left side of
> the street and turning to the left, instead of to the right.
> We were surprised at the number of "Bobbies"
> stationed in the middle of the street, on the street cor
> ners, and in the middle of the blocks.
> In fact, you never
> 
> seemed to get out of sight of a policeman in downtown
> London.     All   of which     was   very   convenient,    as   they
> were    very civil and   ready     to answer   questions   or   give
> 
> [24]
> London in      February
> 
> directions.Occasionally they had an amusing habit of
> pompously turning on their heel and, with extended
> palm, remarking, "I've done ye a favor, 'aven't I?" a
> question which was mos,t satisfactorily answered by a
> small coin.
> The   enormous   street traffic in London is         remarkably
> well handled and    we   seldom   saw   a   jam   or   collision of
> 
> any sort which was little short of miraculous, consider
> ing the multitude and variety of vehicles pouring into
> the main  thoroughfares at all angles. While there are
> several  streetcar lines, mostly in the outlying sections,
> 
> and a few subways, the main downtown traffic is handled
> by cabs, taxis and two-story busses, from the tops of
> which a good view of the streets can be had.      But, to
> the stranger, it is rather confusing, as these busses  are
> 
> equipped with identical signs at both ends,      and  you
> don't know whether they are coming or going, unless
> you make inquiries.
> It was somewhat surprising to see smoking permitted
> in the subways and a fine of eight pounds for "spitting
> on  the floor,"   other parts of the car evidently free
> for all! This seemed very mild in comparison with the
> New York subways, where both smoking and expecto
> rating are prohibited under penalty of five hundred
> dollars fine or imprisonment or both.       These are of
> course small and trivial things, but simply show the
> 
> difference in customs      little details   that attracted      our
> 
> attention.
> We were also impressed with the fact that,            so   far   as
> 
> personal liberty   was   concerned, everyone was permitted
> 
> [25]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> to go about  and do pretty much as he pleased. There
> was   neverany brutal show or incivility on the part of
> those in authority, and this feeling of absolute freedom
> was one of the most pleasant features of our stay in
> 
> London.
> We    saw                 of the recent war except
> little to remind   us
> 
> the Soldiers' and Sailors' Memorial, not far from Tra
> falgar Square, and the grave of the Unknown Soldier in
> Westminster   Abbey, both of which were banked with
> beautiful flowers and continually thronged with hun
> dreds of visitors.      One other incident recalled the war
> to   our   minds.    Returning from Buckingham Palace we
> passed a large and impressive building at the entrance
> to Waterloo Place, and were curious to know what it
> was.  We asked a "Bobbie," who explained that it was
> "Kaiser Bill's Palace," and added with a grin, "But he's
> not  occupyin' it just now."
> Here, as in every city we visited, some particular
> the
> thing seemed to stand out prominently and typify
> embodied   in
> place. To me the spirit of England
> was
> 
> the four huge lions by Landseer at the foot of Nelson's
> Column in Trafalgar Square. Those impressive beasts,
> the mass of
> looking placidly out over the Square and
> people moving about in all directions, vividly impress
> on one's mind the dignity, solidity
> and power of the
> continues   on   its   way
> English nationwhich quietly
> regardless of all obstacles.
> 
> [26]
> Ill
> 
> In Gay Paree
> 
> Our   recollections    of    France       will    always include       a
> 
> humorous picture         presented itself
> that                              as   we   were
> 
> landing at Calais.              glided up to its anchor
> As the boat
> age, we  discovered the  pier lined  with a hundred or
> more porters in caps and long blue blouses, shouting in
> 
> French and wildly gesticulating.     This mass of blue
> blouses kept bobbing up and down, the men animating
> them trying to attract the attention of the passengers
> and all the time pointing to a large disc, containing a
> number, suspended around their necks. It reminded one
> of a Punch and Judy show, only it was a lot noisier.
> The old chap we selected rushed on board and was
> not satisfied with draping himself about with seven
> suit cases, two overcoats, two Boston bags, one brief
> case  and an umbrella, but also insisted volubly that
> there was plenty of room about him for a few cameras,
> a roll of drawings and several other small pieces of hand
> luggage. It was extraordinary to see long lines of these
> porters staggering along under huge iron trunks, and
> I can readily believe they would tackle                anything up to a
> grand piano.
> Our next    impression       on    finally reaching Paris            was
> 
> far from humorous; in fact,             it   was     one   of sadness.    If
> there ever was such a place as               "Gay Paree," it was no
> longer    in evidence and I           am     of theopinion that the
> 
> [27]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> general idea of Paris, held especially among Americans,
> is entirely erroneous.
> While everyone seemed intent on his own business,
> there   was   no   lack of courtesy, and there    was     also   no
> 
> evidence of   frivolity   or   anything approaching it.    Taken
> on the whole, Paris was by great odds the cleanest,
> most beautiful and most interesting city we visited on
> our   whole  trip. Utility seemed always combined with
> artistic beauty.   Smooth, clean streets lined with beau
> tiful buildings of uniform height generally with man
> sard roofs, making the buildings seem lower than they
> really are, and rows of shade trees at each side, even in
> many of the business streets   showed with what rare
> ability the city had been planned, especially when the
> streets  opened out on beautiful gardens and parks filled
> with statuary, or on public memorial squares.
> As in London, the streets were filled with a seething
> swarm of cabs, taxis and motor busses; but, fortunately
> 
> for us, they all passed on the right side of the street,
> and the only difficulty was for the pedestrian to break
> through. This generally required two operations, the
> first jump to the safety islands in the middle of the
> street, followed by a later rush to the other side.
> Street cars, or trams, as they are called, operate out
> side the main business section only, and are conducted
> by brisk women in natty uniforms, who are replaced at
> night by young men or boys.
> The subways are somewhat better than those in Lon
> don or New York, cleaner, brighter and better ventilated,
> while the cars run more smoothly and with less noise.
> 
> [28]
> In   Gay Paree
> 
> The only real difficulty we had in Paris was in getting
> accustomed        to   their   petit dejeuners,           or   light breakfasts,
> which consist of coffee and rolls                     a    rather insufficient
> ballast with which to commence the                        day's work.     It   re
> 
> quired   a   lot of conversation          on   our    part     to   convince the
> waiter that       really wanted something to eat; but at
> we
> 
> any other time of the day the meals were limited only
> by the price we wished to pay. The quantity, quality
> and service left nothing to be desired and the cooking
> was excellent, but when it came to the patisserie it was
> 
> easy to see why the French are famous for their pastry.
> My personal preference between a patisserie shop and
> a book store could only be decided by the time of day
> 
> and whether or not I had just dined.   And the confiserie,
> or sweet shop!    No one who has ever tasted their marron
> 
> glace can possibly resist it.
> In the restaurants           we   marveled at first at the leisure
> with which the French consumed and enjoyed their mid
> day meal. This was soon explained by the fact that the
> banks and  principal business houses close from twelve to
> two p. m. daily, and even the sidewalk vendors pack up
> 
> their wares and suspend operations long enough to
> enjoy a quiet lunch. In addition to this daily breathing
> spell Monday is generally observed as cleaning day
> all public buildings are closed for the day and in the
> larger stores it is not on this account a favorable day
> forshopping.
> Sunday was             one   of   the   best       days for sight-seeing
> indoors,     as    all   the   public     museums        and galleries are
> 
> [29]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> kept open as long as, or longer, than on week days, and
> are thronged with visitors.
> 
> One thing in Paris that interested me greatly was
> the number and variety of book stores, in which we
> occasionally saw a good collection of English and
> American books on sale, in authorship ranging from
> Dickens to Ella Wheeler Wilcox.      Most unique of all
> these    was    an   outdoor book store         on    the Seine embank
> ment not       far from the Gare D'Orleans.               This narrow but
> lengthy establishment consisted of a long row of shallow
> boxes covered with galvanized iron and attached to the
> coping  of the stone embankment.                      It extended       along
> the sidewalk for a distance of five                  or   six hundred feet.
> Overhead was the blue sky showing through the budding
> branches of the overhanging trees; just below was the
> Seine, beyond which lay the Louvre and the Garden of
> the Tuileries. A charming place to stop and browse!
> And     here      impecunious bookworm was constantly
> the
> seen,    passing along from box to box, poking around
> a     varied     collection    which       seemed     to   contain
> among
> almost    everything        that had     ever    been      published,   from
> 
> cheap,   paper-covered novels to              rare    old editions, not to
> mention   engravings, colored prints                 and sheet music.
> I  happened to pass by there one day just as it was
> starting to rain, and the proprietor was showing extraor
> dinary and unexpected speed as he rushed along shut
> ting down the lids of his long book store, then parking
> himself under         an   umbrella     to   wait until the storm had
> 
> passed by.
> Another interesting scene was the markets of peasant
> 
> [30]
> In     Gay Paree
> 
> women         in the boulevards       adjoining the            residence     sec
> 
> tion,       one   of which    happened        to    be   on     the    beautiful
> Boulevard          Raspail   near    our   hotel.        Two-wheel          push
> carts, loaded with all kinds of fruits, vegetables and
> fresh meats, were hauled by these sturdy women from
> their homes in the country and lined up at daybreak
> ready for business. Although some of them, the potato
> carts in particular, looked like a good load for an average
> 
> horse, and had been trundled for miles, the husky pro
> prietors looked fresh as daisies, and were bustling
> around       disposing of their wares so as to reach home in
> time to start back with another load for the next                           morn
> 
> ing.    When      busy
> not        with customers
> they                       filled in the
> time    by making up a supply of paper sacks out of old
> sheet music, newspaper and other odd bits of paper, and
> thus    getting even with the sack trust.
> All over France the word THRIFT seems to be spelled
> with  capital letters. There is no waste either of time
> or    materials.Everything is picked up and worked up.
> All through the country every house has its neat garden
> and a few fruit trees; the walks are clean and the roads
> look as if they had just been swept with a broom. When
> a    tree    is   chopped down       in the    forest,        even    the   twigs
> are tied up in neat bundles and sold to the bakers for
> baking bread, while every square foot of tillable ground
> is under cultivation.          Compared with the wasteful and
> slovenly methods which obtain                      in   the    rural   districts
> of    our    own    country, such national habits of                   neatness
> 
> and economy pointed a very valuable object lesson.
> And now we are about to step off into rather deep
> 
> [31]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> water; but it seems a necessary step, as no article on
> Paris would be complete without a few words on the
> subject     of    fashions    particularly      fashions      in   feminine
> apparel.    While the writer does not profess to be a con
> noisseur, or to have had any special training as a fashion
> expert, a few words will sum up his observations in this
> direction, and we have no hesitation in saying that, in
> the matter of dress, we found New York more Parisian
> than Paris, or what we expected Paris to be. With the
> exception of the tourists, the women's dresses were
> simple, plain and conservative, while, most surprising of
> all, there was an almost total absence of facial make-up.
> Wishing to see a typical French audience, we chose
> a  Sunday evening to attend a performance of Faust at
> the famous Grand Opera House. You can imagine our
> surprise, when we entered the gorgeous auditorium, and
> saw   it filled with       men     in    ordinary business suits and
> women      in    black;   not a    decollete costume in the whole
> theatre, with the exception of those                   worn   by perhaps
> forty elaborately dressed English and American tourists.
> These,  as someone remarked, wore costumes "suitable
> 
> either for       an   opera   or   an    operation."
> On the streets and elsewhere, the Parisians themselves
> dress       conservatively.
> very                By this I do not mean
> shabbily,       for   although     the   men   in general seemed to
> pay little    attention to their            personal appearance, the
> women      invariably look stylish and charming.
> 
> [32]
> IV
> 
> Through Switzerland
> Compared with France our trip through Switzerland
> was  devoid of incidents our sensations being somewhat
> like those of a person used to a regular table d'hote
> when he finds himself face to face with a lunch counter.
> Switzerland's long suit consisting of scenery, one is
> unless he   hap
> apt to get fed up in a very short time,
> pens      to    outdoor enthusiast and willing to keep
> be   an
> 
> on raving over a procession of barren but well
> advertised
> 
> peaks covered with snow.
> Our first stop was Geneva, and Sunday afternoon we
> strolled down by the lake and studied the natives, who
> were all out for an airing on the Quai du
> Mont Blanc
> 
> a wide promenade    lined with  a sort of sycamore trees
> with flat, scraggy tops, that look very odd and pictur
> esque.   These Genevans were a husky, ruddy-cheeked
> lot, and their favorite form of outdoor sport seemed to
> be    wheeling enormously high baby carriages.
> While the view of Mont Blanc failed to produce much
> of a thrill, the lake was very beautiful.
> I   had    one      very    amusing experience     at   Geneva, the
> of    which    was   not   apparent   until   I
> full     significance
> reached home. On presenting                 a   sheaf of letters at the
> hotel desk I was told they were temporarily out of
> leave the letters stamps would
> stamps, but if I would
> amount added
> be      procured, the letters mailed, and the
> 
> [33]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> to my bill.        You  can imagine my surprise when I dis
> 
> covered,      on   reaching home, that the smallest stamp
> known to the Swiss P. O. had been affixed and each of
> my friends had to pay eight cents overdue postage for
> the questionable pleasure of hearing from me. When I
> stood    a   few   days later in Berne, admiring the beautiful
> statue  they had erected to the Postal Union, I did not
> realize at that time to what base uses the thrifty hotel-
> keeper at Geneva had put this glorious Postal Union, in
> order to extract thereby a few petty centimes!
> When visiting the famous watch works of Vacheron &
> Constantin, founded in 1785, and apparently winners of
> all the medals and prizes ever awarded since 1840, we
> were astounded at the marvelous machinery, operated
> 
> largely by women and a few men who had grown grey
> in the service.   Plainly there was no "hire and fire"
> system  in vogue here, and the superintendent explained
> that the trade was handed down from father to son and
> that was the reason of their great success. Owing to
> the fact that the cheapest watcli they make is sold for
> seven hundred and fifty francs f. o. b. factory, we decided
> to look a little further before making any purchases.
> We observed that many of the hotels at which we
> stopped had formerly boasted formidable German names,
> such as the Schtwizerhof, etc., which were now camou
> Suisse or Hotel des
> flaged as the Hotel International,
> doubt,   to   some miscalculations made
> Princes, owing,          no
> 
> three    four years ago by
> or                             the   general staff at Berlin.
> Nevertheless, the hotels were               good and well conducted,
> even if they did skim
> off a little extra in the matter of
> 
> [34]
> Through Switzerland
> 
> postage   or    their     favorite    item    of    chauffage,   when    the
> only fire     had been at all interested in
> we                                             was   the   one
> 
> in the kitchen range.
> In passing through the country everything looked neat
> and clean and           even   the fields
> tidied up as though
> were
> 
> everybody      expecting company. As this part of the
> was
> 
> work is attended to by the peasant women, it was, of
> course,   a   thorough job.
> In Berne it was rather odd to                see a   man   and his     dog
> harnessed to. a cart, jogging along through the streets
> with the morning's supply of milk or other produce.
> We found it very interesting to visit the street market
> in front of the famous old clock tower, which is flanked
> on each side by picturesque old buildings that look as if
> they might have been erected very soon after the found
> ing of the city in 1191. Stretched in the middle of the
> wide street were long tables piled up with all kinds of
> 
> produce  which  the gaily attired peasants had brought in
> for sale; while along the curb rival peddlers and a few
> fakers were prepared to relieve the peasants of their
> newly acquired coin, or do business with any passerby
> who happened to be susceptible.
> The city of Berne has carefully preserved its old-world
> charm     and considered "the heart of Switzerland."
> is
> 
> Among the attractive medieval features are its bridges,
> towers and gates, as well as its buildings and quaint,
> red-tiled houses, nestling on the hillsides along the river
> Aar. The view from the high terrace back of the Parlia
> ment Buildings, with the river winding below and the
> snow-covered Alps in the distance, Jungfrau looming up
> 
> [35]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> in the center, make a picture long to be remembered.
> In the guide book the visitor is requested not to miss
> seeing    the   W eltpostdenkmal,     Zahijngerdenkmel,   Erlack-
> denkmal and      Bubenbergdenkmal, the Stampfli and Haller-
> denkmal, but whether we saw them all I will never tell,
> and, if so, I do not remember them by their full names.
> The Arcades form an interesting feature, as the upper
> stories of the     buildings   rest   on   massive columns and
> arches and extend out to the curb line.    This arrange
> ment, however,    is more artistic than practical, as the
> little stores and shops are consequently poorly lighted.
> At Geneva we spent an evening listening to a comedy
> they had opera in German, and
> in French, but at Berne
> must have got down to business early in the evening,
> as the front of the house was deserted when we arrived
> and it was like breaking into jail to find anyone to show
> us to our seats.   The performance was very enjoyable
> and apparently well done, as the rest of the audience
> seemed to approve.    What interested me particularly
> was the  immense  orchestra, a large number of whom
> were  womenand     all playing together in perfect har
> 
> mony ! The opera was based on an incident that occurred
> during the French Revolution, and it was a rather queer
> coincidence that we should see the same thing, but by a
> different author and under another name, sung in Italian
> at Florence a few evenings later.
> schools.   Attendance
> pride of Switzerland is her
> The
> to the age of
> at the primary schools is compulsory up
> also compul
> fourteen years, and supplementary   courses,
> 
> sory, bring the
> backward ones up   to the required stand-
> 
> [36]
> Through Switzerland
> 
> ing    before their      military service begins.       They   claim
> that    inability   to   read   and   write   is   unknown.    These
> schools are free of charge of any kind, either for tuition
> or materials.  It was interesting to learn that the dead
> languages have given place to modern tongues, and that
> English is now taught in place of Greek. In some can
> tons the school term runs along for forty-five weeks,
> 
> although in the Alpine districts it is shortened to from
> twenty-four to thirty weeks. The Swiss point with pride
> to the fact that it is not unusual for an agricultural com
> 
> mune, with only two or three thousand inhabitants, to
> build a school building costing a hundred thousand
> dollars.
> As there are three national languages, Italian, French
> and German, it would seem that a Swiss school teacher
> must be     something of a linguist.
> As     Berne preponderantly German, we found it
> is
> almost impossible to do any shopping, except with the
> aid of the French members of our party; in fact, the
> knowledge of French is a valuable asset and everywhere
> on our trip we found it to be practically a universal
> 
> language.
> Our exit from Switzerland, at Chiasso, was as amus
> besides
> ing as had been our entrance in France, at Calais,
> throwing  a side light on the characteristics of the genus
> 
> Americano.
> The size of our party had increased at Paris, now num
> increased
> bering four, and our array of luggage had
> but with the aid of a few valorous porteurs
> accordingly,
> on the inspection tables
> our luggage was soon spread out
> 
> [37]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> ready for the ordeal of a customs examination, when I
> heard close by a commotion between a courier for the
> A. E. F. and   a bewhiskered inspector.   The latter was
> recklessly reeling off yards of Italian and German and
> the former was indulging in vigorous U. S. vernacular.
> The row was over four packs of cigarettes, not declared
> by the owner, but which the said inspector had found
> on opening his suit case.
> 
> Neither   one could understand the other, the offender
> offering, with violent protests and many vigorous oaths,
> to pay  the necessary duty and penalty, while the other
> was reiterating the fact that he would have to pay. The
> object of the soldier was obviously to divert the mind
> of the    inspector and get his valise closed up again as
> soon   as   possible. The inspector was jubilant as he
> finally marched the lad over to the pay counter; but the
> joke was really on him, as the young man who hap
> pened to be a Los Angeles boyconfessed to us a little
> later that he had sixty other packs of cigarettes con
> cealed in his valise, which he succeeded in getting across
> the border free of duty.
> I heard of another little incident which shows how our
> fellow countrymen go about things when they
> mean
> 
> American rushed into
> business.   In this case a  bustling
> of    first-class  car where two English
> the compartment       a
> 
> men were    seated,  and   presently, pulling out an old,
> to enjoy a smoke.  One
> highly        pipe, proceeded
> flavored
> and in
> of the Englishmen offered vigorous objection
> to
> formed him that he ought to know it was contrary
> As this had   no
> the rules to smoke in a first-class   car.
> 
> [38]
> Through Switzerland
> 
> effect, he threatened   to  call the guard and have the
> offender put off the car.   At the next station the Amer
> ican  managed to see    the guard first, and informed him
> that an Englishman in his compartment was traveling
> first-class on a second-class ticket, whereupon the guard
> proceeded to remove the gentleman to another car, and
> quiet reigned.
> Presently the other Englishman remarked: "That was
> deucedly clever of you, old chap, but how did you hap
> pen to know he had      a   second-class ticket?"
> "Easy enough," replied the American, as he filled his
> pipe again, "his ticket was the same color as mine!"
> 
> [39]
> V
> 
> Impressions of Italy
> When     we
> purchased our through tickets from Paris
> to Naples, the agent advised us to travel second-class in
> Switzerland, thereby saving   a few francs, but by all
> means to go first-class through Italy.    We found his
> advice excellent, and although we remained in the same
> car,    found, as soon as we crossed the frontier, that
> we
> 
> we        now traveling strictly first-class.
> were                                     This was
> accomplished by simply changing a small      label by the
> door of       our    compartment.       Later   on   we   learned that
> on     regular
> a              Italian train conditions at the best
> were
> 
> poor enough, and at   the risk of being a little too realistic
> I will mention a few particulars.
> In the first place, there is but one RiHrata, or wash
> room, to the car, and it belongs to whoever happens
> to
> 
> get there first.        This   room     contains but   one   fixture,   a
> 
> dirty corner wash basin that lets down from the wall,
> into which you pump water, if there happens to be any;
> but usually, an hour or so after starting on your jour
> empty, and remains so. This, with
> a
> ney, the tank is
> a fixture was
> large round hole in the floor, to which
> once probably attached, is all the room contains, except
> half an inch or so of water, which sloshes around
> over
> 
> the floor.  If you happen to become thirsty or dirty,
> reach your destination, as no
> you remain so until you
> soap,         ice water, drinking cups or any other con
> towels,
> veniences      are    found anywhere      beyond the Alps.
> 
> [40]
> Impressions of Italy
> 
> Practically all European cars have a long corridor the
> full length of the car, and are divided into compartments,
> each one seating either six or eight persons, classed in
> Italy as fumatori and non-fumatori. If you are in the
> latter class and wish to smoke, you can either stand in
> the corridor and smoke, or bribe the guard to let you
> have his seat at the end of the car.     Fortunately, I found
> that     lira, four cents,
> one                    usually gets his seat, and a few
> matches as well.
> As coal is   scarce   in   Italy, it is not unusual to see a
> tender attached to the locomotive loaded with cordwood,
> supplying fuel for the train. The cars and equipment
> generally are in a very bad condition, and with the
> present rate of exchange, the price of new equipment
> and repairs is prohibitive.
> Owing to the scarcity of cars the ladies are fortunate
> if they can all secure seats, while the men gallantly stand
> outside in the corridor, or perch on the stray pieces of
> luggage that are stacked here and there. But no one
> grumbles, and if the train starts half an hour late it
> will only be half an hour late in arriving, provided it does
> not lose another hour or so on the way, which is usually
> a good, safe bet.
> 
> Anyway, we made our entrata into Italy, and were
> rolling along briskly it being down grade! Below us
> were   beautiful valleys and occasionally we caught a
> glimpse of a narrow, white stripe revealing an old Roman
> road. Here and there were quaint old houses of stone,
> roofed with thin, irregular slabs of split stone, and sur
> rounded with old vineyards, the vines trained on wires
> 
> [41]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> forming fantastic arbors. Even the fence posts in this
> part of Italy are of stone slabs drilled to support wire
> fencing. There was nothing combustible except the
> meagre furniture inside the houses, and I imagine that
> insurance       agents    are   an   unknown    as    well   as   an   un
> 
> necessary quantity         in this section of the country.
> In a little over         two hours after leaving the Italian
> 
> frontier at Chiasso         we   arrived at Milan, and then            our
> 
> troubles began. We all wanted ice cream, and none of
> us   knew the proper name for it in that country. But
> we   bravely struck out and fortune smiled on us, as we
> soon   found a place where the waiter understood a little
> French.         As   we   entered, the orchestra struck           up   the
> al   Factotum    from     the   Barbiere   di Siviglia,     and
> Largo
> we   all felt quite at home!          But the   interesting and edu
> cational part of the performance came when we tried
> to pay our bill.  The waiter looked at both sides of the
> money,  held it up to the light, and finally took it to the
> we concluded there must
> manager for his approval, so
> be some spurious currency afloat, and were thereafter
> on   our    guard.
> One of the principal attractions we had been looking
> forward to in Milan was a performance at the La Scala
> celebrated in
> Theatre, one of the largest and most
> Europe, where so many famous
> artists have  appeared.
> we found it had been closed
> for some time
> Unfortunately,
> with hearing
> for repairs and had to content ourselves
> later.
> the company at Florence a few evenings
> Of all the countries we visited, Italy
> makes   by far
> the railroad stations,
> the bravest show of soldieryat
> 
> [42]
> Impressions of Italy
> 
> onthe streets and in the trains, soldiers seemed to be
> moving about everywhere, and certainly make a strik
> ing sight   with    their grey uniforms and     long military
> capes.
> We     were             by the great number of clocks
> struck next
> to be    seeneverywhere,      building after building; but
> on
> 
> they are evidently intended only as ornaments, as none
> of them were running.      The next most frequently en
> countered sight, especially in Rome, were bands of
> various religious orders, marching in different colored
> vestments and with such odd-shaped hats one would
> never imagine a piece of masculine headgear could be
> 
> molded into so many different contraptions. I was often
> "joshed" by the other members of our party because of
> my desire to make a collection of native hats, especially
> the old and interesting ones; but when I saw this wide
> variety I lost heart, as I remembered that the ocean
> liners restrict you to twenty cubic feet of baggage, and
> thought it more feasible to take up some other line, such
> as moderate-sized pyramids or some of those noisy little
> 
> Italian motor cars of the kindergarten type.
> While there was a prevalence of soldiers, clocks and
> monks, there was a great scarcity of good bread, fruits,
> refined    sugar,   fresh   meats, etc. bread, while it
> The
> war bread, was much
> of our own
> forcibly reminded us
> had ever been, and the fruit,
> poorer in quality than ours
> especially the apples and pears, was such as could not
> be graded in an American packing house; but no matter
> how small and knotty they happened to be, the flavor
> was always surprising.
> 
> [43]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> One thing in Milan, however, struck us as being ade
> quate, a bronze statue in front of the Academy. It
> represents Napoleon as a Roman Emperor; but the
> sculptor, Canova, in order to symbolize the fame and
> power of his subject, gives him a splendid but imaginary
> physique several times too large for the Little Corporal.
> There are many other very beautiful statues, especially
> the     of Leonardo da Vinci in the Piazza de la Scala,
> one
> 
> which is a wonderful and impressive piece of work. And
> here in the Santa Maria delle Grazie is this artist's most
> celebrated painting, "The Last Supper," now unfortu
> nately almost faded away.
> Passing on to Venice, we found at least one feature
> there that was right up to our highest expectations, for
> their gondoliers are all that has ever been claimed for
> them, a fine, sturdy, good-natured lot, who act as guide,
> officer all
> megaphone-artist, engine, pilot and traffic
> rolled into    one.
> 
> As you glide along one of the narrow canals, you
> see
> 
> but on
> ahead a hopeless jam of barges and gondolas;
> reaching the spot, you hear a little vigorous language
> room enough for you
> and, in some miraculous way, just
> to glide through is made, and
> then perhaps you whirl into
> the corner of a build
> a still narrower canal, just missing
> of a quarter of an inch. But
> ing by the narrow margin
> that although they come
> the interesting part of it is
> is
> to miss, and so skillfully
> close, they always manage                              craft
> the gondolier and    his
> it managed that it seems
> Their deep, guttural cry,  announcing their
> are   one
> 
> approach      and indicating in which direction they expect
> 
> [44]
> LOOKJNd   DOWN   KKOM   THE   RUINS. Ol''   TIIK   PALACKS   OK   THK   C.KSAU
> Impressions of Italy
> 
> to turn, echoes weirdly down the narrow streets, and, in
> the moonlight, is strangly moving and romantic.
> We were surprised to find how much of Venice could
> be    seen   without the   use gondolas. There are only
> of
> about     one             fifty canals in the whole city,
> hundred and
> over which there are about four hundred bridges, and
> 
> the intervening spaces have streets much like any other
> Italian city. From this time on it was part of the day's
> work to become used to odors, as each city maintains
> its own peculiar aroma, and very often this never-to-be-
> forgotten fragrance differs from block to block, so that
> the wayfarer, though he be deaf, dumb and blind, could
> not be mistaken in his         whereabouts.
> We often found ourselves wondering if the American
> public is not a little over-particular and super-sensitive
> in the matter of disinfection and sanitation, especially
> when     we    noticed the   open-air comfort stations in. some
> of these Italian cities placed in the alley, not over ten feet
> from the main street and consisting merely of a narrow
> a building, connected with a hole
> groove in the side of
> in the pavement. This is sometimes, but rarely, shielded
> on the street side by a narrow
> slab about one foot wide
> it needs  no sign to designate it.
> by four feet high; but
> we learned in Italy, that the ideas we
> had
> One      thing
> formed        ofthings needed considerable revision.
> many
> of
> Among other surprises was the general appearance
> the country.     Instead of the neat little farms, or beau
> tiful old villas surrounded by flowers, orange trees, etc.,
> we found much of the
> land uncultivated and not even
> one the impression of a new
> inclosed by fences, giving
> 
> [45]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> and   undeveloped country rather than an ancient one
> presenting the appearance of an old mine almost worked
> out and practically abandoned.     In no part of Italy did
> we see the    intensive farming of  France, or the quaint
> cottages and well-kept gardens.
> Florence and Rome were each so rich in history and
> incident that to tell of them would require a separate
> article, so we will pass on to Naples and then resume
> our journey.
> 
> In going anywhere in Italy, or the Orient, it is well
> to inquire if the train you wish to take runs on Sunday,
> as many of the train schedules have a sudden respect for
> the Ten Commandments and suspend operations on the
> Sabbath day.
> At each step of our journey we added some piece of
> information to our slender store. Just now it happened
> to be in regard to the way hotel reservations are handled
> "over there."    Before leaving Florence, we had tele
> graphed ahead to Rome ; but were coolly informed by the
> concierge on our arrival that there were no vacancies.
> We asked for the manager, who appeared and acknowl
> edged that he had received our telegram, but expected
> us on the morning train, and as we had not arrived then
> 
> (which was impossible) he had rented our rooms. How
> ever, he kindly placed his one remaining room at our
> disposal, and when we remonstrated that this was hardly
> feasible for a party consisting of a man and his wife and
> two other men, he hotly retorted that we could all go
> and sleep in the Pincio, a public park, etc., etc.!! Finally
> matters cooled down, and we were fitted out with his
> 
> [46]
> Impressions of Italy
> 
> one   remaining room and temporary beds in a back
> parlor until the next day.
> Finding that telegraphing ahead for hotel rooms was
> not entirely satisfactory in this part of the world, we
> decided to trust to luck at Naples, and found, on reach
> ing that city, that because we had not telegraphed they
> were unable to accommodate us.      After a little inquiry
> we found a very good hotel with    an elevator which ran
> 
> long enough to get us up to our rooms. This is not
> altogether unusual on the Continent at present, as this
> part of the hotel equipment generally operates only long
> enough to accommodate the incoming guests, and then
> immediately goes out of business until the next day,
> when a new batch of arrivals appear. In the intervening
> hours you are expected to read the "Out of Order"
> sign and trudge up and down four or five flights of stairs.
> After a few more experiences we learned there was
> another interesting consequence to engaging your hotel
> accommodations in advance; you were always charged
> the highest rates.
> In addition to getting a varied experience along com
> mercial lines, we thoroughly enjoyed the art and archi
> tecture of Italy, which are worthy of anyone's attention,
> whether particularly interested in these lines or not.
> But I could not make myself believe that the sky is any
> bluer, or the sunsets any more gorgeous than those      on
> 
> the Pacific    especially when   viewed from the   terraces
> 
> of   our own   home town!
> 
> [47]
> VI
> 
> On the Mediterranean
> 
> Before      leaving Naples       we      must    not   overlook       two
> 
> other little incidents that throw           an    interesting sidelight
> on    our   impressions of Italy.
> One of the first chores       we   did at Rome       was     to    take
> our  passports to the Police Department to secure per
> mission to leave the country; but the matter dragged
> along, and finally we were told that we had made a
> serious mistake in not reporting in person to the police
> soon    enough after coming into Italy, and it would be
> necessary for       us   to return to the     frontier and do it all
> over    again.    As the boat      on   which     we   had secured      our
> 
> passage sailed in two days, things began to look rather
> serious. Finally the guide managed to signal us to slip
> him     fifteen   lira   (sixty cents),    which he      passed    to    the
> 
> police official, and we were surprised to see all objections
> suddenly waived, and our passports handed to us in less
> than an hour.    It was amazing what quick results so
> small a bribe could accomplish!
> But this Roman official was a mere novice, a clumsy
> amateur, compared with another member of the force
> at Naples, who, instead of being contented with a mere
> 
> trifle, planned on taking the whole pile. This second
> incident occurred         on   the boat.
> After my passport had
> been inspected, I was accosted by a rather surly-looking
> gentleman in uniform, who wanted to inspect my pocket-
> 
> [48]
> On the Mediterranean
> 
> book and look        all my private papers to see what I
> over
> 
> was  taking     of
> out the  country. To all this I demurred,
> until the agent of the Steamship Company assured me
> that the man was acting within his rights, and I had
> better    comply with his request.      So I     produced my big
> black pocketbook and saw him contemptuously pass over
> my perfectly good American, English and French money,
> and  finally lift out nearly one thousand lira of paper
> money (worth about forty dollars in United States
> currency), which he laid on the table in front of him,
> curtly informing me that according to law I had no right
> to  take any money out of that country.       He then
> motioned for the next man in line to advance and be
> held up, whereupon I reached over the table, picked up
> my little old one thousand lira, walked out of the room,
> and stayed out ! ,A couple of hours later, when I assured
> myself      from    a place on the upper deck that the
> safe
> officials      leaving the boat, I came down and was
> were
> 
> told that the aforesaid police official had been inquiring
> for me; but as he had not been able to find me, he had
> kindly consented to let the matter drop. I feebly ex
> pressed my appreciation of such courteous treatment
> from one who was a total stranger, and began to feel
> relieved, as I saw that our boat was now actually leaving
> the soil of Grande Italia.       An hour   or   so   later I felt still
> more     relieved when all I could see was the smoke curling
> up    above    Vesuvius, and below it the dim outline of
> Pompeii.
> While    we    deeply regretted being unable to stop at
> Capri    and visit the Blue     Grotto, we planned on rolling
> 
> [49]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> out about four o'clock and      Stromboli in action, so
> see
> 
> we retired rather early, expecting to be called.    But
> that
> they were evidently out of four o'clock calls on
> boat, for when I awoke about six a. m., we were entering
> the Straits of Messina, and presently Mt. Aetna loomed
> up in the distance.    With a faint wreath of smoke con
> tinually   heaving  out of it, one could readily see how
> 
> appropriate   it was as a trade-mark for various insurance
> In
> companies, especially those dealing with fire-risks.
> this respect it seemed to have an edge on Gibraltar,
> while its majestic appearance makes Mt. Vesuvius look
> likea sideshow attraction.
> 
> So far, in fact, all the way to Alexandria, the sea
> was  calm and beautiful, the air cool and crisp, like
> California in winter.
> Our first stop was at Catania, Sicily, where we tarried
> for four hours, while they loaded enough brimstone on
> our    vessel to start   a   fair-sized inferno.   Finally, to our
> great relief, the hatches        were    battened down and     we
> 
> proceeded on our way.
> During our stop at Catania we strolled some distance
> down the   pier to inspect one of those painted carts for
> which the peasants of Sicily are famous. While admiring
> the elaborate carving, the figures and landscapes painted
> on the body of the cart, and the highly decorated har
> 
> ness, etc., a crowd of curious natives also gathered to
> inspect the crazy foreigners who were making such a
> fuss over nothing.    This crowd attracted the attention
> of a gendarme, or whatever they call them in that
> country, who proceeded to inquire from us who we
> 
> [50]
> On the Mediterranean
> 
> were, where         we   came   from, what we were doing there,
> and what      we     meant      by collecting a crowd.          They are
> evidently     not in     favor of crowds there,
> over  while heso
> 
> was considering what would be the best thing to do
> 
> with us, we suddenly decided to settle the matter by
> beating a hasty retreat to the boat, with the officious
> policeman tagging at our heels.
> Unfortunately we did not reach Syracuse until six
> o'clock in the evening, too late to visit the ruins and the
> old Greek and Roman theatres there.
> This part of our trip seemed to go by fours, as we
> were four hours late in leaving Naples, stopped four
> hours at Catania, four hours at Syracuse, were delayed
> four hours at Alexandria and it required a little over
> four   days  make the voyage.
> to
> But this gave ample time for                  making acquaintances,
> which   is    the    principal     attraction    of traveling on the
> water, when the elements behave themselves, and you
> do not have to worry over what is about to happen to
> you, or be kept in suspense as to whether you would
> prefer to exchange           the of the present for the
> agonies
> doubtful torments of the hereafter.
> Speaking of acquaintances, we had at our table during
> the Mediterranean trip a noted archeologist and his wife,
> on their way to Palestine to perfect arrangements for
> 
> excavating a buried city; Father B           a  prominent
> ,
> 
> and  superior-general of  the  Paulist  Fathers in
> priest
> New York City; facing us an archbishop of Beyrout,
> and at our right a brother of the ruling Pasha of Egypt
> and former commander-in-chief of the Egyptian army,
> 
> [51]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> who was just returning from a six years' exile to       Spain,
> where he had been interned by the        English.   The latter
> was    avery well-informed man, and we had several in
> teresting chats on world conditions, during which the
> merits and manifestations of Bolshevism and socialism
> were       discussed.   I   especially interested in his plan
> was
> 
> for the prevention of wars, and at the risk of digressing
> a little will briefly describe it: During a former campaign
> 
> in Egypt his army was encamped near a well in the
> desert, on the opposite side of which lay the forces of
> the enemy.      An arrangement had been made whereby
> the soldiers of each army might visit this well at differ
> ent hours in order to get water.         Happening to visit
> this well one day, he found his soldiers and some of the
> enemy exchanging cigarettes and sitting around telling
> stories and joking together.       Thinking the matter over,
> he came to the conclusion that these private soldiers had
> no desire to kill each other, on the contrary, seemed to
> be the best of friends. All this set him to philosophiz
> ing as to the real cause of wars and whether or not it
> would   be possible to prevent them.      Finally he con
> cluded that the best remedy would be to have the kings,
> or whoever
> happened to be at the head of the govern
> ment, the prime ministers and all the leading politicians
> on both sides man the front line
> trenches, and when
> everything  was  properly arranged give the order to fire !
> If this were done it was his opinion that there would
> be very. few wars in the future.     Anyway it would be
> interesting to see it tried for a few hundred years.
> One of the most delightful memories of our Mediter-
> 
> [52]
> On the Mediterranean
> 
> ranean trip was the long walks and talks with Father
> B      on the promenade deck in the moonlight.    Being
> a genial, middle-aged man, and an extensive    traveler,
> his conversation was both entertaining and instructive.
> Above all his kindness  won a way into my heart, and
> 
> anyone in my condition at that time would always keenly
> remember it.
> The condition referred to   was     the result of   a   little
> episode that happened in Venice about two weeks pre
> viously, when the lady of our party privately remon
> strated that my old pipe was getting too highly flavored.
> I promised that, if it was offensive to her, I would dis
> 
> pense with it. A few minutes later, as our gondola was
> drifting along in front of the Doge's Palace, she asked
> me to hand her my pipe, which I saw quickly disappear
> 
> overboard.    Once on board the boat, the old longing
> returned, and I secretly pined for my old companion and
> solace, which was resting, peacefully, I hope, and doing
> its bit to add to the fragrance of the Grand Canal.
> When Father B        inquired if I smoked, I told him
> the sad story, and he  nobly came to my rescue. Having
> laid in a good supply of cigars before embarking, and
> having often, in his travels, been in a tobaccoless condi
> tion   himself, he insisted that   I    share   with   him, and
> therefore     sociability greatly
> our                        increased.
> Theonly excitement we had on the voyage was fur
> nished by a lady passenger who claimed she had been
> robbed of a necklace, variously valued at from ten to
> fifty thousand pounds, and accused the femme de
> chambre of purloining the same. This caused a thorough
> 
> [53]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> search both of the boat and the suspected young lady,
> as well as a four hours' delay and police investigation
> at Alexandria, before anyone was allowed to disembark.
> 
> During this delay we had our first view of the Orient,
> and ample opportunity to inspect the motley array on
> the pier.  It was easy to realize that we had touched
> a new and different section of the world.      Bright red
> tarbushes and long white    cotton  robes were to be seen
> 
> bobbing around among the sombre, conventional cos
> tumes of the Europeans.      Brown-faced and bare-legged
> 
> specimens  of the  poorer classes  lounged about the pier.
> Spirited horses dashed by, attached to arabiyehs, a sort
> of surrey with a calash top, driven by a swarthy Arbagi,
> whose feet generally protrude conspicuously over the
> dashboard,   asthe space between the driver's seat and
> the dash is packed full with fresh alfalfa a day's supply
> for the two steeds. Water carriers in bright costumes
> with large earthen vessels suspended from their shoul
> ders wandered about clashing their brass cymbals.
> Negroes, Sudanese, all the races of the world seemed to
> be   represented, and all reflected the true Oriental spirit
> in   a total absence of hurry! Large, high-powered auto
> mobiles dashed into the crowd, which in some mysterious
> way managed to let them through without anyone being
> run down. Here and there, perched on the edge of the
> 
> pier, were poorly clad natives contentedly fishing, but
> evidently not expecting to catch anything.
> Finally the gang-plank was run out, and the passengers
> filed out, escorting their baggage to the customs house
> where, owing to the stolen necklace incident, every
> 
> [54]
> On the Mediterranean
> 
> solitary article was taken out and carefully examined.
> After levying a duty on each separate and collective
> article of luggage, our persons were carefully searched
> for the missing necklace.
> Then came the long, rambling drive to the hotel, and
> our first experience with Oriental street brawls, which
> 
> are amusing enough in the daytime, but seriously inter
> 
> fered with our sleep at night. It was easy to see that some
> thing was brewing in the political pot over in that part
> of the world, and that Italy was not the only country
> possessed of smouldering volcanoes.
> It   was   difficult for   us    to realize that       we   were   in the
> city      founded     by Alexander the Great about 400 B.C.,
> and at      one     time containing more than half a million
> inhabitants,        as   very little remains now to remind one
> of the glorious          period when Antony and Cleopatra held
> revel here, and the city boasted of a library containing
> nine hundred thousand scrolls.
> Pompey's pillar, a real granite column nearly nine feet
> in    diameter and         over      sixty   feet   high,   stands      on   the
> ruins of the old Serapeum in the midst of a public park,
> but nothing was in evidence to suggest the wonderful
> city that existed during the time of Hypatia, or a few
> centuries earlier when Alexandria was the center of the
> commerce of the world.
> 
> [55]
> VII
> 
> In the Land of the Pharaohs
> 
> The distance from Alexandria to Cairo is one hun
> dred and thirty miles, the trip requires four hours and
> the     fare   is   one    hundred      and    seventy-five piastres,   first
> class (equaling seven dollars in United States currency,
> and three dollars and fifty cents second class).   These
> 
> good idea of railroad conditions in Egypt,
> figures give a
> 
> as far as price and speed are concerned.      The quality
> of the service was             surprising as it was the best we had
> enjoyed since leaving England. In fact, you could almost
> believe that you were on the Southeastern & Chatham
> Railroad, the equipment being practically the same, and
> everything clean, comfortable and sanitary thanks to
> British    management!               They even run dining or restau
> rant cars,         as   they   are   called.
> Nearly the whole journey from Alexandria to Cairo
> is through the fertile delta of the ancient Nile, although
> at present there remains only two of the seven mouths
> that once emptied into the sea, the others having been
> silted up long ago, and are now replaced by a vast
> network of irrigating canals.
> As far as the eye can see, in every direction, stretches
> a level, fertile plain, on which a great army of workmen
> 
> labor in      primitive fashion and with the crudest of
> a
> 
> tools.     Adonkey and bullock hitched to a curved stick
> is their idea of a first-class farm implement, and stranger
> 
> [56]
> In the Land         of the Pharaohs
> 
> still,      their purpose, as there are thousands of
> answers
> 
> acresunder cultivation. The farmhouses match their
> wooden ploughs, consisting of mud huts grouped in
> little   villages,   like    the   pueblos   in   New       Mexico    and
> Arizona.      The     only    visible   adornment      is    the   village
> cemetery, which sometimes happens                 to   contain     one   or
> 
> more shade trees, the only ones in sight.              Anyone admir
> ing the "simple life" could find it here in its most un
> adorned simplicity, moving along in the grooves that
> were fashioned fifty centuries ago.
> 
> As we journeyed along we noticed that a great many
> people seemed to be either out for a ride or going some
> where, and we began to wonder if we would find any
> body there when we reached Cairo, as everyone was
> journeying towards Alexandria. It was amusing to see
> them jogging along on "broiler-size" donkeys; the rider
> usually in a long white robe, sitting far back on the
> donkey's rump, swinging his feet in and out in true
> Oriental style. Now and then a train of donkeys would
> come ambling along loaded down with such a variety
> 
> of commodities that we concluded it must be some port
> able Oriental emporium looking for a new location, or
> keeping on the move to avoid paying rent.
> Entering Cairo, our train stopped in a large and up-to-
> date station, alive with noisy Arab porters and guides,
> all rather confusing to a stranger. But we had arranged
> with the American Express Company to meet us, as we
> feared our knowledge of Arabic, which at that time
> amounted to a mere "chemical trace," might not be suf
> ficient to meet the requirements. So we managed to get
> 
> [57]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> safely to our hotel, located on the Opera House Square,
> a large and   sumptuous hostelry with a large terrace
> filled with tables and potted palms, overlooking the
> Esbekiyeh Gardens. (I use the word hostelry advisedly;
> as "the Egyptians call their houses 'hostelries' on ac
> 
> count of the short time they inhabit them ; but the tombs
> This hotel was
> they call eternal dwelling-places.")
> with  an elevator, which actually ran most of
> equipped
> the time, provided you had leisure enough to wait for
> it; but as we were only stopping there a few days, we
> generally climbed five flights of stairs and often won
> dered why they had to make the ceilings so high!
> Cairo has been called "the diamond stud on the handle
> of the fan of the Delta," and we found it all of that.
> In fact, next to Paris, it was the most   interesting and
> fascinating city we encountered and       one   of   which
> volumes could be written.
> Naturally our first expedition was to the pyramids
> of Ghizeh, which can be reached by auto in a little over
> half an hour, or by tram car in about forty minutes.
> When about one hundred and fifty yards from the
> pyramids, the good road suddenly stopped and so did
> our little party (owing to a punctured tire), and rather
> 
> than plough through the sand we negotiated for four
> camels, which, after the customary amount of protest,
> finally knelt down for us to climb on. So much was
> easy; but it required some dexterity and vigilance to
> stay on while these long-legged animals up-ended them
> selves, and got under way. These unclean and pathetic
> animals slouched along like a negro with sore feet, and
> 
> [58]
> In the Land         of the Pharaohs
> 
> in   about twenty minutes          more   we    were   brushing by
> Cheop's pyramid,     on    which, it is said, one hundred thou
> sand   men  labored three months each year for twenty
> years   the period when the Nile is on its yearly rampage.
> Like everyone else who sees this monument for the first
> time   we    marveled at the immense blocks            of stone of
> which it is  composed.
> Anyone of an inquiring mind is permitted to explore
> the interior of this pyramid by going around to the
> north side and climbing up thirteen tiers of stone, each
> one about three feet high, then getting down on all
> 
> fours and crawling through a dark and slippery passage
> about three and a half feet high by four feet wide, breath
> ing meanwhile an atmosphere that smells strongly of bats.
> After crawling along for a distance that seems fully as
> long as a city block, the inquiring and persistent person
> comes finally to the Great Hall and the King's Chamber,
> 
> which at present contains nothing but an empty and
> mutilated sarcophagus and an Arab fortune-teller, who,
> with his index-finger marks out a wheel in the sand and
> for five piastres a throw will tell you what the future
> has in store for you.        After the veil of the future has
> been  momentarily lifted, all that remains to do is crawl
> out again, and brush off the cobwebs.     As none of our
> 
> party  seemed anxious   to  go indoors, we  continued on
> our way about two hundred yards beyond the big pyra
> 
> mid and dismounted in front of the Sphinx. This famous
> monument       was   hewn out of the natural rock at least
> five   thousand    years    ago.     As   the   original   rock   was
> 
> slightly    deficient in   places,   additional blocks      of stone
> 
> [59]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> were   added to form the shape of a recumbent lion with
> the head of a man,    supposed to be the likeness of King
> Khepren, by whose orders the work was done. At one
> time it was supposed to represent a sun-god, and that it
> was sculptured to guard the entrance to the Nile Valley;
> 
> if so, its name was Hu. While on the subject of pyra
> mids, we learned that the Arabic name for a pyramid is
> haram, while the Mohammedan's name for his wives, up
> to four, is spelled harim.    Whether there is any etymo
> logical significance in the similarity of these two words
> we were unable to have
> thoroughly and satisfactorily
> explained.
> From the pyramids we crossed to the opposite side
> of the city, where the Tombs of the Caliphs are located,
> just north of the Mokattam Hills, whose quarries fur
> nished much of the rock used in the construction of the
> pyramids. Here we found some wonderful specimens
> of Arabic art and   architecture, but nothing to compare
> with the  superb mosque of Sultan Hasan, which is con
> sidered the finest existing monument of
> Egypto-Arabian
> architecture, or the recently completed Rafaiyeh
> mosque, which, in the judgment of our humble party,
> was the one
> perfect specimen of Oriental architecture
> among   the thousands  which adorn the sky-line of Cairo.
> This latter mosque contains the
> family burial vault of
> the Khedive Ismail, who did many
> great things for Cairo
> (and, incidentally, for himself), his ambition being to make
> that city the rival of Paris. He was
> getting along       beau
> tifully and had succeeded     in
> appropriating to his own
> use one-fifth of all the arable land in
> Egypt and had
> 
> [60]
> In the Land   of the Pharaohs
> 
> increased the public debt to about three hundred and
> seventy millions of dollars when he was finally deposed.
> The city of Cairo is fertile in mosques and we plucked
> up courage enough to climb to the top of one of the
> tallest minarets and take a bird's-eye view of the city
> and its environs, and our sympathy goes out to the poor
> old nmezzin who has to make that climb five times each
> day.
> On   our    secondday in Cairo we visited the famous
> Egyptian Museum, one of the most wonderful of its
> kind in the world, and while it is highly interesting, it can
> hardly be called a place for pleasurable sight-seeing. In
> one gallery you are introduced to the
> Royal Mummies,
> and find yourself standing at the side of Merenptah, the
> Pharaoh of the Exodus (who, by the way, has not been
> "unrolled" yet). In a case near by is his father, Rameses
> II, the Pharaoh of Oppression mentioned in the first
> chapter of Exodus, whose features are not exactly pleas
> ing to look at. But after you have strolled along farther
> and find one whose honeycombed skull shows that the
> 
> royal owner was carried off with smallpox, you decide
> that Rameses was not so bad looking after all.         From
> the royal specimens you pass on to a varied assortment
> of mummified monkeys, dogs, cats, gazelles and croco
> diles, as well as bunches of flowers and fruits that were
> gathered     fresh
> something like forty or fifty centuries
> ago.   But mummy-gazing is not exactly an enlivening
> pastime, and a couple of hours of it is generally suffi
> cient for the average individual, when he is perfectly
> willing to move along and examine the jewelry that the
> 
> [61]
> A Modern   Pilgrimage
> 
> queens and          royal princesses wore when they motored
> over    to    see    how the pyramids were progressing, or
> strolled out        on   the ancient Rialto.
> Especially fine and elaborate are the ornaments and
> jewels of Queen Ahhotep, the mother of King Amosis,
> who ruled 1580-1557 B.C.      Rings, bracelets, necklaces,
> earrings, etc., were considered the proper thing even in
> those days, and while vanity cases were not yet in vogue,
> the lady's mirror is on exhibition.
> One of the charms of Cairo (on a cool day) is a visit
> to the Mouski along which the best of the native bazaars
> are    located; but it is well to beware of the Tunis and
> some    of the other
> congested bazaars in the heat of the
> day,   as    the odor increases with the
> heat, and you could
> hardly find a more ideal breeding place for cholera or
> any other form of pestilence.  Some of these old places
> have evidently never been properly cleaned since Moses
> was  found in the bulrushes, and a modern vacuum
> cleaner would probably have nervous prostration if called
> upon to function in that part of the city.
> You can never be lonesome in Cairo.                As
> you    soon as
> 
> step    out  the street you are assailed by guides and
> on
> 
> street vendors of all kinds, who want to sell you any
> 
> thing    from       a    New York    Herald to   a   genuine   scarab
> made in Germany; but we soon learned the proper anti
> dote for  beggars and street merchants, who follow you
> around for blocks,  refusing to take "no" for an answer,
> thinking you  will buy presently if they keep on lowering
> the price. We learned that by firmly saying, "Ma feesh
> filoos (There is no money) !" they would all scatter
> 
> [62]
> In the Land         of the Pharaohs
> 
> like chaff in    a   high    These dealers in spurious
> wind.
> antiques have a serious way of trying to convince you
> of the genuineness of their wares by pulling down their
> lower  eyelids and repeating their favorite oath, "By my
> eye!" In that country, where there are so few good
> eyes, we decided that they were putting it as strong
> as
> 
> all
> they knew how. Ophthalmia is a serious problem
> through the Orient, and the stranger must be continually
> on his guard if he wants to leave the country with two
> 
> perfectly good eyes. It is pitiful to see even babies with
> diseased eyes, and the mother with perhaps only one
> out of order.
> eye in operative condition, and that slightly
> Somebody     has  facetiously  remarked    that this country
> must be where    the  Russellite cult originated, as millions
> of these people will certainly    never   see death or any
> 
> thing else!
> There is something else the newcomer has to contin
> ually be on his guard against, and that is not to confuse
> the    sexof the waiters in the restaurants, who all wear
> long    white robes with bright red sashes or tarbushes.
> And when you get to coffee, you are               sure   to   get cafe fori
> in Arabian style, and find yourself               drinking black mud
> instead of coffee such as you are accustomed to drink.
> If you decide to take a ride on the street car, you
> find they are divided into first, second and third classes,
> with    an   enclosed     compartment        marked        Dames,    which,
> if you happen        to   enter    and   a   veiled   lady    also   happens
> to board the car,        you are supposed              to    vacate   imme
> 
> diately, as the       same roof must  not             cover     persons   of
> 
> opposite sex. For           this   reason     the soldiers nicknamed
> 
> [63]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> these black-robed, black-veiled ladies "submarines," and
> steered clear of their special compartments. Fortunately
> you  are not compelled to patronize street cars, as the
> 
> city is alive with Arab cabs, and you no sooner step out
> of the hotel than one appears as if by magic, and a
> swarthy Arab throws back the calash top and waits
> for you to climb in.
> Moving day, which seems to be any day at any time,
> is one of Cairo's chief sights. If the moving is on a
> small scale an Arab will be seen walking down the street
> with a dresser on his head, followed by another Arab
> with the marble top balanced on his head; while a third
> will have a few chairs hung around on his person.     If
> the movee happens to be a person of some importance
> and social standing, one who has accumulated consider
> able of the world's goods, he secures an ordinary jolt-
> like a hay-rack, on which
> wagon, with a large, flat bed
> he loads his several wives and other female dependents,
> three or four along each side with feet hanging down
> the                 his   household effects         in   the
> over         edge, piles                              up
> middle between them, ties the family cow to the rear
> of the wagon, where it is attended by the juvenile mem
> bers of the family, while he, the lord and master of the
> household,    seats   himself up   on   the   high seat alongside
> the driver.
> Funerals also are barometers of social standing in
> consist of
> Egypt. The usual ones seen on the street
> the deceased carried in a regulation box on the shoul
> ders of a group of pallbearers, followed by the lamenting
> harem and a few friends, the whole procession on foot.
> 
> [64]
> In the Land   of the Pharaohs
> 
> In a short time the box is brought back empty and ready
> for the    next   call.
> But in spite of all the strange customs and odd      sights
> there is   a   fascination about the   city of Cairo which is
> irresistible but hard to explain. At first you feel dis
> gusted with the filth and odors, you dislike being an
> noyed by insistent guides, street peddlers and beggars.
> The ragged, sore-eyed, emaciated and generally run
> down condition of the natives makes you feel that it
> is about time to wipe off the slate and start a new score.
> But  eventually the lure of Egypt creeps through your
> system, and your whole mental attitude changes. You
> begin to feel a little sympathy with the old-timers who
> tell you that they "simply love the filth and odors of
> the Orient," and you gradually grow to enjoy the
> peculiar flavor of Oriental life and your stay becomes
> one of constant interest and
> pleasure.
> 
> [65]
> VIII
> 
> From Egypt to Palestine
> 
> Just    before    leaving   Cairo   a   little incident occurred
> that enlivened our departure.              A few hours before train
> time Mr. B             decided to pay a final visit, and in order
> to    save         run no risk of getting lost, called a
> time and
> cab and gave the cabman the directions, which he pro
> fessed to understand. Time passed; it was getting dan
> gerously near train time, when suddenly a cab pulled up
> in front of the hotel, Mr. B      dashed out excitedly,
> and after a few hot words, handed the cabman a small-
> sized bank note, which he looked at and contemptuously
> threw       onground. The hotel cab-starter picked up
> the
> the money  and  handed it to him again, when the Arab
> launched forth in a loud harangue, stretching his hands
> up toward the sky, beating his breast, and again throw
> ing the money on the ground, whereat a nearby Sou
> danese slipped quietly down from his cab, pocketed the
> spurned money and climbed back on his seat with a
> satisfied and expansive grin. In the meantime a crowd
> had collected and with it a policeman, all of which made
> the  noisy cabman more noisy and vehement than ever
> (as their theory seems to be that the loudest man wins),
> until finally the policeman led him over and parked him
> on      opposite side of the street with instructions to
> the
> cool off and quiet down. While all this was going on,
> I had managed to glean from Mr. B         that the Arab
> 
> I 66 2
> From Egypt to Palestine
> 
> had driven him    over half of Cairo, everywhere except
> 
> to the   right number, which he never did reach, although
> it was not over ten minutes' walk distant from the hotel,
> and   on   one      of the    principal streets, and that the cause
> of all the     row was        his refusal to pay a full fare for the
> afternoon's ride around the              city.
> Before       leaving       the   subject of Cairo    we    should   be
> remiss if      we    failed to mention the Bahais who did             so
> 
> much to make           our    stay   a   pleasant one, and    of whom
> I expect to have more to say at another time.
> Leaving Cairo at six-fifteen p. m. we proceeded                   by
> rail to Kantara,       on     the Suez Canal,   on   the opposite side
> of which the military railroad, built                by Lord Allenby
> during the late war, has its southern terminus.
> After    a  round with the customs officials and a tire
> some     siege with the passport officers, we secured porters
> and started in search of the train for Haifa.      This
> seemed to be a sort of mirage, but we trudged on in the
> darkness, crossed the bridge over the Suez Canal, were
> halted now and then by sentries, who scanned our pass
> ports, and after a hike of over half a mile, finally over
> took a train of sleeping cars on a sandy siding, into
> which we climbed, completely exhausted, about midnight.
> The train      was     much better than       we   had expected, and
> the   management seemed especially                 solicitous for the
> personal     appearance of the
> traveling public, as it had
> neat little framed notices inthe cars stating that "the
> conductor will brush and polish the shoes of the pas
> sengers if so requested."  The white-jacketed porters,
> so familiar in American Pullmans, are here
> conspicuous
> 
> [67]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> by their absence, and although there are plenty of
> Ethiopians in this part of the world, they have not yet
> invaded the sleeping car payroll.  The solitary conduc
> tor does not bother much about your tickets or any
> thing else, and appears in the morning only long enough
> to make up your berth and collect the linen.
> When    traveling in a party, these European compart
> ment cars are ideal, as you have absolute privacy, and
> no one disturbs you, even to announce the stations; it
> 
> seems to be up to the passenger to keep track of the
> 
> train's whereabouts, to see that he gets off at his proper
> station, and to do his own yelling for a porter to carry
> his luggage.    But if your party is not large enough to
> fill the compartment, the case is entirely different, as
> you are likely to have your peace of mind and body
> disturbed by the pervasive and unsavory presence of the
> less desirable type of native, with his own ideas of
> ventilation.
> In Palestine these International Wagon-Lits, or sleep
> ing cars, are operated by a company whose full name
> is the Compagnie Internationale des Wagon-Lits et des
> Grands Express Europeens, and are fairly good-sized
> cars. They have to be, in order to get the name of the
> company      on   one     side   of   the   car   without   too   much
> abbreviation,     or    the   necessity     arises for   wrapping the
> rest of it   around  the other side of the voiture. They
> on
> 
> have only one row of  berths opening onto a side corridor
> 
> running the full length of the car. In the daytime these
> coaches resemble the ordinary Continental cars, except
> that each pair of compartments has a little semi-circular
> 
> [68]
> From Egypt to Palestine
> 
> built-in washroom, done in beveled glass and Lincrusta-
> Walton, a very convenient feature.             The weakest       thing
> about it is the water           supply,  as  after two persons with
> tiny hands and a           very  small  face  have washed, the rest
> of the party must be content with using the damp end
> of the towel, unless they get out a search warrant for
> the conductor, who will obligingly furnish a small pitcher-
> ful of water.  It is very necessary for the traveler in
> these parts to remember that he is supposed to supply
> himself with soap and towels, as in so doing he will
> automatically avoid a great deal of inconvenience. The
> reason given in Italy for the failure to
> provide these
> articles is that anything so easily removed never remains
> long in place. Such a condition is surprising in Rome,
> which once boasted the finest and largest baths in the
> world; but where the natives must have gotten washed
> up for all time, as the present indications show that
> bathing is not in vogue, soap and towels are kept under
> lock and key.   But here in the Orient, where ablutions
> are a religious
> obligation and are required of the faith
> ful five times a day (before prayers), we naturally ex
> pected- better facilities. Indeed, we failed to see how
> this duty could be discharged unless, by special dispen
> sation,   the   inhabitants       were    allowed   to   avail   them
> selves of the   religious regulations         of the
> desert, where
> "the faithful are permitted to use sand for their religious
> ablutions"      a           of
> dry wash!
> sort
> 
> Getting back to the  car again: each
> compartment has
> two very comfortable berths, an upper and lower; but
> the regulations state that "each sleeping car cabin is
> 
> [69]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> available for three first-class passengers after eight a. m."
> what becomes of the third passenger during the night
> time, and whether he gets any sleep depends, I presume,
> on   whether he is a stronger or a better man than either
> of the other two.
> Fortunately the most unattractive part of the journey,
> that through the desert of El Tih, was accomplished
> during the night, and the next morning found us in the
> narrow, but fertile valley that skirts the eastern shore
> of the Mediterranean Sea, which at one time was the
> most frequented and fought-over section of the world,
> but is   now   a   scene   of ruin and desolation.   Except at
> rare   intervals there is     nothing   for miles and miles to
> indicate that this part of the world is even inhabited,
> and you begin to wonder if you have by mistake been
> switched off into some new and undiscovered country.
> Being assured that we were really in Palestine, we
> began to look about for some signs of Zionists, who,
> we had been led by our home press to believe,
> were
> 
> in force. We   continued  to look
> invading these parts
> the Suez  Canal to
> long and earnestly all the way from
> the northern end of the Sea of Galilee for a glimpse of
> these colonists about to reclaim their native land, and
> make the desert and rocks of Palestine blossom like
> the rose. A week or so later, from Haifa to Tiberias,
> we   did discover two or three instances of unusual
> activity.   The    English are busy installing a system of
> than
> good roads in Palestine, so that something
> more
> 
> about from
> donkey or a caravan of camels can
> move
> a
> some degree of speed, com-
> one place to another with
> 
> [70]
> From Egypt to Palestine
> 
> fort and  safety. These roads are being built according
> to the specifications of John Macadam, and the rocks
> are broken up by husky young Jewesses, while the grad
> 
> ing is done by their husbands, brothers and sweethearts,
> under the direction of English engineers. They seemed
> to be a happy and industrious lot, but rumor says that
> as soon as they draw down sufficient cash, they hasten
> 
> to buy a return ticket for their former homes.
> The only evidence of permanent colonization we saw
> was    the little German settlements dotted here and           there,
> which formed        a    pleasing contrast with the surrounding
> desolation and          showed that industry and perseverance
> will work wonders           even   in this forsaken   corner   of the
> globe.
> Our    curiosity was aroused by a large pipe-line which
> we     saw cropping out occasionally along the railroad
> south of Ludd, and learned that this was installed dur
> ing the English military operations along with the rail
> road, and that water was now piped through it to
> Jerusalem, thus fulfilling the ancient prophecy that one
> day the sweet waters of the Nile would be conveyed to
> the Holy City.
> After passing through the Plain of Philistia, the train
> halts at the railroad station of Ludd, about a mile dis
> tant from which lies the ancient city of Lydda, which
> should be  especially interesting to all Englishmen, as it
> was    the native
> place of St. George, the patron saint of
> England. His tomb is still shown in the old church, a
> sort of two-family house, as one end of the building
> 
> belongs to the Greeks, while the other is walled off and
> used as a Mohammedan Mosque.
> 
> [71]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Ludd is  prominent junction point, if nothing more.
> a
> 
> To the  right lies Jerusalem, forty-two miles away, and
> to the left you can see the orange groves of Jaffa,
> twelve miles distant. These groves have unique burglar-
> proof, rust-proof fences composed of a dense growth
> of prickly pears.
> Jaffa is the ancient Joppa, the place where Jonah is
> said to have set sail       on   his tempestuous voyage, and a
> few centuries before        that    was called Iopa, where, in
> 
> mythological times,         Andromeda      was   chained   to   the
> rocks to be devoured by the cruel monster, when Perseus
> happened along, killed the monster and proposed to
> the young lady. The surroundings were probably more
> romantic than they are now.
> After leaving Ludd we enter the Plain of Sharon.
> Here and there we saw a solitary palm or fig-tree, or
> a   pomegranate and a few clusters of low, black tents,
> indicating    that   some    Arab    was   making   a   temporary
> home for himself with a few cattle grazing around him.
> When you see this you have seen about all that remains
> of the wonderful Plain of Sharon, of which Solomon
> sings so enthusiastically. And you find that the Rose
> of Sharon wasn't a rose after all, but a narcissus, and
> into silence until the train ap
> you relax and relapse
> Caesarea,  which   we dimly remembered as the
> proaches
> chief town of Judea in Roman times, having been built
> and named for
> by Herod the Great in sumptuous style,
> of its former
> Augustus Caesar. It has lost every trace
> has  been  used  only as a
> grandeur, and for many years
> used in buildings elsewhere.   It is
> quarry for rock to be
> 
> [72]
> From Egypt to Palestine
> 
> inhabited only by a few Bosnian exiles, who manage
> somehow to live a quiet and secluded life among the
> ruins.
> About twenty miles farther across the Plain of Sharon,
> we passed around the head of the Mt. Carmel of Biblical
> 
> times and   just under the caves of Elijah, and entered
> the Bay  of  Acre, at the southern end of which lies the
> beautiful little city of Haifa and at the northern ex
> tremity the historic City of Akka.
> In size and shape it resembles our Santa Monica Bay,
> but here the resemblance ceases, as the country between
> these two cities is silent and deserted and there is noth
> ing to indicate that about eight hundred years ago this
> 
> spot was the battle ground of the Crusaders, and that
> at    one      sixty thousand Christians were slain here
> time
> or sold into slavery.    In more recent times, Napoleon
> encamped on what is still known as Napoleon's Hill, and
> unsuccessfully beseiged the City of Akka.
> At last, after a jaunt of over ten thousand miles, not
> including the distance we had tramped through art gal
> leries, museums and mosques, or journeyed by autos,
> cabs or other minor means of conveyance, which would
> be incredible if totaled, we reached what I supposed
> was the end of our journey; for Haifa is the home of
> 
> Sir Abdul Baha, the head of the Bahai movement, whose
> influence is now being felt in every civilized country.
> 
> [73]
> IX
> 
> The New Bahai Temple
> 
> One of the   prime responsibilities of each member of
> our  party during our journey eastward was to look to
> the safety of a certain roll, about six inches in diameter
> and four feet long, containing the plans and prospectus
> of the new Bahai Temple at Chicago, which was on its
> way to Abdul         Baha, the master and head of the Bahai
> Movement.
> Particular and        exacting as that charge was at the
> time, it    seems    easy compared with the present task of
> attempting to describe what was contained in the
> precious roll.
> It is hardly necessary to emphasize the fact that
> these plans were exquisite examples of architectural
> drawings, and the large water-color perspective a work
> of art; yet it was not until I returned to Chicago and
> saw the huge model of the building that I began to
> 
> realize the wonderful beauty of this new creation, and
> even then it was necessary to become somewhat familiar
> 
> with its symbolism to grasp its full significance.
> This              is
> masterpiece         in that it represents in
> unique
> Revelationa con
> plastic form the teaching of the            new
> 
> crete    expression    of   a   spiritual   conception. It is safe
> to say     that    never before in the history of architecture
> has     such   a   thing been attempted and executed with
> such    complete and marked success.
> 
> [74]
> The New Bahai Temple
> 
> As is well known, all great religions have brought
> into existence a new type of architecture; so that archi
> tecture may be truthfully said to have been born in the
> 
> temple. Each religion has also adopted or originated
> a  certain  figureor symbol; such as the swastika, the
> earliest religious symbol, used in prehistoric times from
> China to Western Africa; the gammadion, or voided
> Greek cross; the seal of Solomon, consisting of two
> triangles superposed and forming a six-rayed figure (also
> used by the Vedantists and Theosophists) ; the Moham
> medan symbol of the crescent and five-pointed star, and
> finally, surpassing them all, the nine-pointed star, which
> is the symbol of the Bahais.
> All of these emblems have been wrought into the
> decoration of this Temple, presenting a history of re
> ligious symbolism from the earliest times. Interwoven
> with them is a system of geometrical lines and figures,
> original with Mr. Bourgeois, by means of which he
> obtains    endless line, and as you look at his decora
> an
> 
> tion you are reminded of the wave of sound evoked by
> the master from the violin "an uninterrupted wave of
> crystallized sound!"
> While    one   could     truthfully say that this specimen of
> architecture is "frozen music," yet, on the other hand,
> it has extraordinary life and movement.     It produces
> a variety of emotion in different onlookers, and while
> 
> all agree that it is a marvelous creation, some go into
> raptures over it; while others are moved to tears. One
> of the greatest architects in New York has stated that
> "it is the first     new    idea in architecture since the thir
> teenth    century."
> 
> [75]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> ThisTemple is to be called the Mashreq' ul-Azkar
> (also spelled Mashrak El Azkar), an Arabic term which
> means "the dawning place of the mentionings of God."
> 
> A place of prayer and praise and one from which is to
> go forth actual and unselfish service to humanity.
> In plan it resembles a nine-pointed star, the number
> nine being used by the Bahais as the symbol of this
> Revelation, as it contains all the others and is the sign
> of completion. The nine faces of the Temple are made
> on    an     inverted curve, which has the effect of two open
> arms        inviting all who approach to enter. The nine
> entrance doors       are   at   the center of each of these curves
> and    symbolize the heart.
> The crowning glory of the Temple is the massive and
> '
> 
> inspiring dome, on which is carved all the religious sym
> bols; beginning at the base with the swastika, the
> Buddhists' symbol, the seal of Solomon, the Cross, the
> crescent and star, and finishing at the top with the nine-
> 
> pointed star, the symbol of the Bahais, all wonderfully
> interwoven with geometrical tracery that gives it an
> indescribable richness and charm.
> All of this decoration on the dome is not only carved,
> but is  pierced or cut through, and will present, espe
> lace work
> cially when illuminated, a piece of architectural
> This
> that will surpass anything of its kind in existence.
> type of perforation was originated by
> Mr.   Bourgeois
> and featured by him in California over twenty years ago.
> and
> The shape of the building reminds one of a bell,
> to dis-
> it has been called "the new Liberty Bell, calling
> 
> [76]
> The New Bahai Temple
> 
> tressed and  separated humanity." Others liken it to a
> beehive  betokening activity in perfect order.
> In the elevation of the Temple we are confronted with
> more symbolism, as it is built up in three stages, form
> 
> ing a trinity such as is found everywhere, in man and
> all the works of nature.
> The architectural forms of the past have been worked
> into its   design, the first story being reminiscent of the
> old Egyptian temples, with nine towers ornamented with
> exquisite tracery and perforated to form spiritual light
> houses.     The doors and windows      are   Romanesque   in
> form with     a   touch of Gothic and Arabic tracery.   The
> second story is Gothic in form, interlaced with Roman
> esque and early Byzantine motifs.    The third story is
> Renaissance in treatment and leads up beautifully to the
> dome, the great and crowning feature of the building,
> ninety-five feet in diameter and one hundred and sixty-
> two feet high.   Within this outer dome will be an inner
> dome of opalescent glass to take care of the rain or
> snow,   a space of three feet to be left between them for
> 
> electric light display at night and for a system of forced
> steam heating for melting snow and ice.
> The              of the first story, as well as the
> nine towers
> minarets of the second story, will also be perforated
> and illuminated at night.  But the most spectacular
> electrical effect will be found at the apex of the dome,
> where the nine ribs come to a common point, repre
> senting hands joined together in prayer. These hands
> leave an open space between the fingers and thumbs
> from which powerful searchlights will throw nine beams
> 
> [77]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> of   light   into the   sky, forming   a   nine-pointed   star   in
> space, visible for many miles.
> From a psychologist's standpoint this Temple presents
> an  interesting study, as Mr. Bourgeois declares he is
> "only the channel through which it came," and proceeded
> with the work only as it was given to him.
> The first thing he did was the doors and windows of
> the first story, a wonderful piece of architectural design,
> symbolizing the descent of the Holy Spirit. After fin
> ishing this he got the entire form of the lower story
> and sketched it out in an hour's time, but he realized
> when the sketch was finished that the idea could not be
> properly expressed in a drawing on a flat surface. So
> he proceeded to make a plaster model.          Then the second
> 
> story dawned       on   him and he modeled      that, but being
> deeply perplexed all the time as to whether it would be
> possible to design a suitable dome, one rich enough
> to
> 
> the vision that had already been given him.
> complete
> Then the quiet and restful third story appeared, which
> added still more to his perplexity and brought several
> to produce a
> days of grave doubts as to his ability
> feature worthy to complete the structure. One morning
> and saw
> he was awakened suddenly at three o'clock
> sketch out.
> before him the dome, which he hastened to
> is given
> Thus all the credit for this wonderful creation
> by the architect to a higher Power,
> which   simply used
> him as an instrument, and much in the
> same   way as he
> 
> used hispencil and modeling tools.
> One morning in the spring of 1901 (twenty years ago)
> were taking a stroll on
> Mr. Bourgeois and the writer
> 
> [78]
> The New Bahai Temple
> 
> the Mission Hills at Santa Barbara, California, when he
> related at some length that his mission in life was to
> build a large temple to be dedicated to Truth, which
> was   to    surrounded by other buildings devoted to
> be
> Art and Science and the welfare of humanity.       Just
> where these buildings would be located he was not sure,
> buthoped it might be somewhere in sunny California.
> A few months later I happened to call at the De
> Longpre residence at Hollywood and was shown by M.
> De Longpre two newspaper clippings reporting that our
> mutual friend had been taken to a sanitarium near Pitts
> burgh with pneumonia and three days later had
> passed on.
> Having read all this in the Associated Press dispatches,
> I naturally believed it was true and was hardly prepared
> for the shock I received about eight months ago, when
> I saw in the Architectural Record an article on a new
> 
> Bahai Temple at Chicago designed by Louis Bourgeois.
> So I lost no time in writing him to inquire if he had
> been here all this time, and requesting some sort of an
> explanation.
> Hisreply was to the effect that he was still here, and
> planning a trip to Europe and Palestine, in which it was
> my good fortune to join and incidentally
> add to my
> 
> experiences the richest chapter of my life.
> But the strangest thing of all is that his dream, re
> lated to me twenty years ago, is being realized in the
> Bahai group now being erected at Wilmette, near
> Chicago.
> From    a   human   standpoint,   the   designing   of   this
> 
> [79]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> temple presents another interesting phase, as when the
> problem of designing the building presented itself, Mrs.
> Bourgeois volunteered to co-operate by buying a little
> notion store at West Englewood, New Jersey, where
> they were living, and while the artist-architect was
> working on the model she was occupied with selling ice
> cream and candy.    Instead of being able to finish the
> model in a few months, as he at first thought, it re
> quired three years, but finally in an atmosphere of love
> and cheerful co-operation the great work reached a suc
> cessful termination.
> The model        was   designed for a building four hundred
> and fifty   feet in diameter and three hundred and      sixty
> feet high and would cost approximately twenty-five mil
> lion dollars. The one now under construction in Chi
> 
> cago is   on   smaller scale and will be one hundred and
> a
> 
> and sixty-two
> sixty-two feet in diameter, one hundred
> feet high and will cost about three     million dollars. It
> Michi
> will be situated on the only bluff in sight on Lake
> nine        which  is circular on  three
> gan, in a plot of        acres,
> wall five hundred   feet
> sides. This will be inclosed by   a
> 
> in beautiful gardens
> in diameter and will be laid out
> having  nine avenues   and nine large basins of water with
> illuminated fountains.       The water from these basins will
> 
> be gathered into the center basin, facing Acca,
> Palestine,
> lake forty feet below.
> and will then be cascaded into the
> at night.
> This cascade will also be illuminated
> The municipality of Wilmette
> has  purchased the land
> the site of the Temple for park purposes,
> so
> adjoining
> 
> [80]
> The New Bahai Temple
> 
> that it will have a park on one side and the circular part
> will face   on the great Lake.
> Around the     Temple it is proposed to erect accessory
> buildings    devoted to the study and propagation of the
> arts and  sciences, and, as Abdul Baha says, "when these
> institutions, college, hospital, hospice and establishments
> for the incurables, university for the study of higher
> sciences and advanced educational    courses   and various
> 
> philanthropic buildings, are built, its doors will be open
> to all nations and all religions.    There will be drawn
> 
> absolutely no line of demarcation. Its charities will be
> dispensed irrespective of color and race. Its gates will
> be flung wide to mankind, prejudice toward none, love
> for all. The central building will be devoted to the pur
> poses of prayer and worship.      Thus for the first time
> 
> religion will become harmonized    with science and science
> will be the handmaid of religion, both showering their
> material and spiritual gifts on all humanity."
> To one who is not familiar with the Bahai movement,
> the question naturally arises as to what it means and
> what is behind it all.
> As I had the great honor and pleasure of meeting
> Abdul Baha, and having several interviews with him,
> I have taken the opportunity of investigating the Bahai
> teachings.
> 
> [81]
> X
> 
> What the Bahai Movement Is
> 
> In the teachings of the Bahais we find nothing radical
> or    revolutionary.   They do not seek to introduce new
> forms or ceremonies and have nothing mysterious, occult
> or   abstruse about them. One looks in vain to find any
> thing that must be accepted "on faith," such as is defined
> by the little Sunday School girl as the "act of trying
> to make yourself believe what you know is not true!"
> It is not an organization and has no paid clergy. It
> is not an attempt to supplant or supersede any of the
> old established religions, but is rather an inclusive move
> ment   that numbers among its adherents members of
> is represented by
> every known religion and creed, and
> from       civilized country on the globe.
> people       every
> Christians,      Buddhists, Mohammedans, Theo-
> Jews,
> sophists, Freemasons, Spiritualists, all find their highest
> aims in this cause, as it contains the      essence   of the
> 
> highest ideals of the present century.
> It  constructive rather than iconoclastic and its
> is
> laid down by
> teachings are based on twelve principles,
> his
> Baha Ullah about sixty years ago, and expounded by
> in the Orient as "the  Master"
> son, Abdul Baha, known
> of them:
> and the "Center of the Covenant." He says
> "All the teachings which have been given during past
> Revelation of Baha Ullah,
> days are to be found in the
> has certain new
> but in addition to these this Revelation
> 
> [82]
> -
> 
> What the Bahai Movement Is
> 
> teachings which are not to                be    found    in   any   of   the
> religious books of the past."
> 
> THE TWELVE BAHAI PRINCIPLES
> 
> 1 The    Oneness      of    Mankind.       "Baha        Ullah   addresses
> himself to mankind,        saying:      'Ye   are   the leaves of      one
> 
> tree and thedrops         of   one That is, the world
> ocean.'
> of human existence is no other than one tree, and the
> 
> nations    or    people    are   like    unto    different    branches
> thereof.       Thus Baha Ullahpresented the fact of the
> oneness of the world of humanity, while in the reli
> 
> gious books of the past humanity has been divided
> into two parts, one part looked upon as belonging to
> the faithful, the other as belonging to the irreligious
> or infidel;  the first assigned to the Mercy of their
> Creator, the  second considered objects of the Creator's
> wrath.    But  Baha Ullah proclaimed the oneness of
> the world of humanity he submerged all mankind in
> the sea of Divine Generosity."
> 2 Independent Investigation of Truth.     "Men are com
> manded not to follow blindly the ways of their ancestors.
> Nay, each must see with his own eyes, hear with his
> own ears, investigating the Truth for himself that he
> 
> may attain the Truth by himself."
> 
> 3 The Foundation of All Religions Is One. "The foun
> dations of all the Religions of God are one and the
> same foundation, and that Oneness is the Truth, and
> the Truth is One, and cannot be made subject to
> division and      plurality."
> 
> [83]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> 4       Religion Must Be the Cause of Unity."Religion must
> be the    cause   of   unity, harmony and accord amongst
> men.     If Religion be the cause of inharmony, or leads
> men     to   separate   themselves    each    from   the   other,
> creating conflict between them          then Baha Ullah de
> clares that irreligion is better than Religion."
> 
> 5       Religion Must Be in Accord With Science and Reason.
> "If a religion is not in conformity with science and
> reason, then it is superstition.
> Down to the present
> 
> day it has been customary to accept a thing because
> it was called religion, even though it were not in accord
> with human reason."
> 
> "The world of
> 6   Equality Between Men and Women.
> one is woman and the other
> humanity has two wings
> man.   Not until both wings are equally developed can
> becomes
> the bird fly. Not until the world of women
> of virtues
> equal to the world of men in the acquisition
> be attained
> and perfections can success and prosperity
> as they ought to be."
> 
> Be
> Forgotten.             "Preju
> 7    Prejudice of All Kinds Must
> dice and fanaticism be it religious, sectarian, denomi
> the foundation
> national or patrioticis destructive to
> men should release
> of human solidarity; wherefore,
> in order that the one
> themselves from such bonds
> become manifest.
> nessof the world of humanity may
> 
> nations should make
> 8   Universal Peace. "All men and
> Universal Peace amongst
> Peace, that there shall be
> a
> 
> [84]
> What the Bahai Movement Is
> 
> governments,         Universal    Peace      amongst     Religions,
> Universal Peace amongst races."
> 
> 9 Universal Education.          "All mankind        men   and women
> everywhere         should     acquire   secular    and    spiritual
> knowledge.         The education of each child is       obligatory.
> If   there   are    no   parents, the community          must   look
> after the child."
> 
> 10 Solution of the      Economic Problems. "Just as the
> rich   man   enjoys his rest and his pleasures surrounded
> by luxuries, the poor man must likewise have a home,
> be provided with sustenance, and not be in want.
> Until this is effected happiness is impossible."
> 
> 11 An     International Auxiliary Language. "An inter
> national  auxiliary language shall be adopted which
> shall be taught by all the schools and academies of
> the world. A committee appointed by national bodies
> shall select a suitable language to be used as a means
> of international communication and taught in all the
> schools, in order that           everyone    shall need but two
> languages, his national tongue              and the international
> auxiliary language."
> 12 An     International       Tribunal.     "A   universal   tribunal
> under the power of God, under the protection of all
> men, shall be established. Each one must obey the
> decisions of this        tribunal, in order to arrange the diffi
> culties of every nation."
> 
> The above meagre outline presents the   Principles pro
> claimed    by Baha Ullah, something like fifty years ago,
> 
> [85]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> before Esperanto, the League of Nations, Woman's Suf
> frage or the Inter-Allied Church Movement had entered
> on the stage of human affairs, much less been permitted
> 
> to take their places anywhere near the forefront.
> That they present a practical and much-needed plat
> form, no fair-minded person can reasonably deny, and
> that they provide a satisfactory working basis is proved
> by the fact that in the Orient the many adorers of the
> Sacred Cow and their mortal enemies who abominate
> the unclean Pig have forgotten their animosities and,
> under the Bahai standard, are living and working
> together in perfect peace and harmony. It has erected
> a  new   Mashreq, or meeting place, into which all
> aside
> parties and sects can enter and comfortably lay
> their prejudices.
> In our various interviews with Abdul Baha he laid
> the
> especial emphasis on the necessity of actually "living
> instead of        about it or holding  beautiful but
> life,"                  talking
> barren beliefs.
> He has laid down the following rules for the guidance
> of those who wish to become Bahais:
> 
> To be no cause of grief to anyone.
> them with
> To be kind to all people and to love
> a   pure   spirit.
> to     to   bear
> Should opposition or injury happen       us,
> 
> kind    ever we can  be, and  through   all,
> it, to be as      as
> 
> to love the people.      Should  the   direst   calamity
> for these   things   are   the   gifts
> descend,     to   rejoice,
> and favors of God.
> 
> [86^
> What the Bahai Movement Is
> 
> To be silent         concerning the      faults of others, to
> pray for them, and to help them,             through kindness,
> to correct their faults.
> To look  always at the good and not at the bad.
> If a man has ten good qualities and one bad one,
> look at the ten and forget the one. And if a man
> has ten bad qualities and one good one, to look at
> the one and forget the ten.
> Never to allow ourselves to speak one unkind
> word about another,            even   though the other be our
> enemy.
> To do all      our   deeds in kindness.
> To cut    our      hearts from ourselves and from the
> world.
> To be humble.
> To be servants of each other and to know that
> we     less than anyone else.
> are
> 
> To be as one soul in many bodies; for the                 more
> 
> we           other, the nearer we shall be to God;
> love each
> but to know that our love, our unity, our obedience
> must not be by confession, but of reality.
> To act with cautiousness and wisdom.
> To be truthful.
> To be    hospitable.
> To be reverent.
> To be     a    cause    of   healing   of every sick one,       a
> 
> comforter for every sorrowful one, a pleasant water
> for every       thirsty   one,   a    heavenly   table for every
> 
> hungry one,      a   star to every horizon, a      light for every
> lamp, a herald          to   everyone     who    yearns   for   the
> 
> kingdom of God.
> 
> [87]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> There is   a   vast    amount   of literature      on    the Bahai
> cause, which is very  interesting       as   well
> instructive,
> as
> 
> and yet only a small   portion of it has been translated
> into English, as the   Persian imagery and idiom can
> hardly  be expressed in  a language which is devoid of
> 
> suitable words to express the exact meaning of the
> original.
> The works of Baha Ullah are written in the Oriental
> style, and abound in beautiful imagery; while those of
> Abdul Baha      are   clear and concise and         can   easily   be
> understood by the Occidental mind.
> Judging by the nature of the questions which have
> been asked me regarding the Bahai Movement, it would
> seem that many persons expect some new kind of phil
> 
> osophy, or mystic "something-new" religion evidently
> overlooking the fact that there is not so much need for
> a "new" religion as there is for a
> renewal and revitaliza-
> tion of the old essential teachings. All the great
> teach
> 
> ers taught practically the same thingsimply suiting
> whom it
> their message to the needs of the people for
> was intended, depending on
> the stage of their develop
> ment.
> 
> outpouring all creeds and religions
> "In the first
> the spirit.
> Were pure, and full of the power of
> Then    comes      the act of human defilement;
> What was good         became base, the pure perverted,
> with tinsel,
> The robe of Truth is embroidered
> And outward form replaces true worship."
> has   been    epitomized by         Baha
> The   Bahai     cause
> 
> [88]
> What the Bahai Movement Is
> 
> Ullah in the          following quotation,       which has become             a
> 
> classic:
> "We desire but the            good of the world and the
> happiness       of    the    nations; that all nations should
> become        one    in faith and all   men as brothers; that
> 
> the bonds of affection and            unity between the sons
> of    men     should be       strengthened; that diversity of
> religion should           cease,   and     differences   of   race     be
> annulled.
> "These fruitless strifes, these ruinous wars, shall
> pass away, and the 'Most Great Peace' shall come.
> Yet do we see our kings and rulers lavishing their
> treasures      more       freely on means for the destruction
> of the human           race   than    on   that which would         con
> 
> duce to the          happiness       of mankind.      These       strifes
> and this bloodshed and discord must                   cease   and all
> *    *    *
> men      be   as    one     kindred and      one   family.
> Let not a man glory in this, that he loves his                    coun
> 
> try; let him rather glory in this, that he loves his kind."
> 
> [89]
> XI
> 
> Haifa to Tiberias
> On reaching Haifa, our sense of the romantic received
> a jolt, as we were conveyed from the railroad station
> 
> to     Pilgrimage House in the small kind of "touring-
> the
> car-made-in-Detroit," making us feel that we had not
> traveled very far after all, and that this particular kind
> of car was getting to be like "the poor, who are always
> with us."
> Pilgrimage House we were the guests of Sir
> At the
> Abdul Baha Abbas, who happened to be just then at
> Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee.   We were in doubt as to
> whether any or all of   us were tocontinue on our way
> to Tiberias, or whether he would return to Haifa.
> But
> 
> two    dayslater a messenger from him arrived with in
> Baha
> structions for us to visit Behje and the Tomb of
> after that
> Ullah on the following Monday, and the day
> for all of our party to proceed to Tiberias.
> attended serv
> The intervening day being Sunday,
> we
> 
> which is located on the
> ices at the Tomb of the Bab,
> the city of Haifa. Here
> side of Mt. Carmel, just above
> for the first time. Lis
> we heard real Oriental chanting
> and spontaneous music was
> tening to this kind of weird
> for us, and had a thrilling effect
> on
> a    new   experience                                   im
> our  Occidental ears. It was rendered particularly
> manner of Sheik Mohamed
> pressive by the wonderful occasion.
> on that
> Ali, who officiated
> 
> [90]
> Haifa to Tiberias
> 
> On     Monday morning we took the train for the his
> toric city of Acca       (also spelled Akka, and located about
> ten miles from         Haifa), which, in the time of the Cru
> saders    was   a    royal city and the port of the Kings of
> Jerusalem. It is located at the northern end of the
> Bay of Acre, along whose shores are found the Murex
> shells, from which the ancient Tyrians extracted their
> famous purple dye.
> On reaching Acca we decided to walk to Behje, a
> distance of about two miles, across a level plain, lux
> uriant with large crimson poppies and other wild flowers ;
> but like nearly all the country of Palestine, devoted
> merely to pasturage and the convenience of the Arab
> herders, whose low, black tents are scattered here and
> there throughout the valleys.
> Just before reaching Behje,                we   met   a   caravan   of
> camels under the ruined arches of an old Roman acque-
> duct, and passed a watering trough where a group of
> women were          doing their laundry, just as they have been
> in the habit of doing for several thousand years. Herds
> of goats were browsing around among some old ruins,
> the   ensemble       presenting    a   pastoral   scene     that would
> please the heart of an artist ; but a scene that had formed
> the original set several thousand years ago.
> On reaching Behje, which is a town in name only, we
> saw     the old Governor's        palace, where Baha Ullah was
> allowed to pass the last few years of his earthly life,
> and near which is his tomb, a place to which pilgrims
> resort from all       parts of the world.
> From      Behje      we   crossed    the    plains and continued
> 
> []
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> around Napoleon's Hill, from which the Little Corporal
> unsuccessfully bombarded Acca in 1799, finally reach
> ing the Garden of Rizwan. This is a beautiful spot,
> though now somewhat neglected. Here Baha Ullah
> composed some of his later writings, in a small room
> over   which towers a wonderful rose tree, the finest and
> largest specimen I have ever seen. It is indeed a place
> of peace and quietude.   A little stream runs through
> the Garden, and with the bright flowers, "the gnarled
> and antlered trees" and the clear blue sky above, the
> place was worthy of its name, Rizwan a Persian word
> meaning Paradise.
> From Haifa we traveled by train to Semakh, a small,
> mud-hutted    town   on   the southern end of the Sea of
> Galilee, passing through    the Plain of Esdraelon, near the
> few
> village where Deborah once held forth and within
> a
> 
> miles of Nazareth, which lies among the hills to the
> north.
> jogging along for about twenty-five miles,
> we
> After
> a fertile but
> entered the valley of the River Jordan,
> which the
> almost entirely uncultivated valley, through
> the "Ford at the Cross
> rickety train meanders, passing
> exercised his ministry. We
> ing" where John the Baptist
> six hundred and eighty
> finally reached Semakh, about
> Mediterranean. At this point
> feet below the level of the
> motor        and after a two hours
> boat,
> we    transferred to a
> arrived at Tiberias, a town
> ride on the Sea of Galilee,
> hundred years ago, and dedi
> built by Herod nineteen
> It was once the chief
> cated to the Emperor Tiberius.
> hand-
> of Galilee and boasted many
> city of the Province
> 
> 192]
> Haifa to Tiberias
> 
> size,     in
> some  buildings; but it is now greatly reduced
> of about four thousand souls, three-
> having a population
> fourths of whom are Jews.
> of
> The Hot Baths, located about a mile or so south
> the
> the town, and mentioned in the Old Testament
> as
> 
> Baths of Hammath, are the city's principal attraction.
> cure for rheumatism,
> They are celebrated as an infallible
> his faith,
> and anyone who has nerve enough to back up
> a bath in the       deserves to be   cured. Visitors
> risking                      place,
> from the hotel       generally visit these Baths at six o'clock
> in    the   morning,    as   soon     as   the
> are  open, for
> doors
> flock  in, and by
> to
> shortly after that the natives begin
> have  been  tested
> noon the curative powers of the
> water
> 
> to the limit, and the pool has reached something
> near
> 
> the point of saturation.
> Mr. B
> The second day after our arrival at Tiberias,
> which  is  about  four
> and I decided to visit Magdala,
> Wishing to avoid    an hour's
> and one-half miles away.
> asked the livery man to name
> haggling about rates,  we
> 
> his lowest       at once,
> price       which he  gave at one hundred
> and    seventy-five piastres (seven dollars in U.
> S.   money).
> When        we    called the deal off and started away, he fol
> lowed us         for a block, wildly begging us to make him
> first price
> offer, after he had insisted that his
> was
> an
> 
> bed-rock.   His exorbitant demand reminded us of the
> retired Irishman from Jeru
> story they tell of a wealthy
> or elsewhere, who was visiting
> these parts and
> salem,
> the
> wanted to see the exact spot where they walked
> on
> 
> water in Bible times.  He arranged with a boatman                       to
> 
> row him out for two dollars,
> but when he was ready to
> 
> [93]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> return was   told that the   price would be ten dollars, at
> which he threw up both his hands and exclaimed: "No
> wonder they walked on the water in those days!"
> Anyway, to make a long story short, Mr.         B    can
> 
> celed his part of the trip and I was forced to shoulder
> my camera and proceed along the highway which skirts
> the shore of the lake to     Mejdel, or Magdala, the birth
> place of Mary Magdalene.      At present this is a wretched
> 
> village of about twenty mud huts and less than half a
> dozen houses of stone which might be classed as resi
> dences. Winding through the village was a dusty road
> filled with dirty half-clad urchins who assailed me with
> persistent cries of "bakshish!"
> Just at the entrance to the village a native was mak
> ing a half-hearted attempt at cultivating a patch of
> tomatoes with a wooden plough attached to a diminutive
> 
> donkey, while the partner of his joys and sorrows was
> crouched down on the newly ploughed ground and
> be
> showing no interest in anything in particular. Just
> which Jesus
> yond the village is a small plain the
> one to
> 
> of the loaves and
> repaired after performing the miracle
> fishes.
> Some distance to the left of Magdala, on the cliffs,
> are
> 
> of
> the ancient caverns of Arbela, once the stronghold
> robbers which Herod the Great overcame by lowering
> cages filled with
> soldiers down into their stronghold.
> The level plain below is the Land of Gennesaret.
> In the distance, rising out of the
> fertile plain, is a
> on its summit two
> curiously shaped volcanic hill, having
> Karn Hattin, or Horns of
> peaks or horns, now called
> 
> [94]
> Haifa to Tiberias
> 
> Hattin, said to be the place where the Sermon on the
> Mount was delivered.   On the steep hillside, close by,
> a flock of goats was clambering around, occasionally
> jarring loose a shower of stones that rattled down into
> the roadway. Over the tops of the hills a few buzzards
> were   circling around; along the hilly road that follows
> the shore of the lake an occasional rider was to be seen,
> jogging along on a small donkey and driving two or
> three others, or a   coupleof camels could be seen lei
> surely carrying produce to the markets of Tiberias. Far
> ther along towards the northern end of the lake is
> another small plain, dotted at present with the white
> tents of a small military camp, which is said to have been
> the scene of the Feeding of the Five Thousand.
> In the middle of the Plain of Gennesaret, which is
> about three miles long and one mile wide, could be seen
> indications of a new era which is dawning over this won
> but   long-neglected region.      Here       were
> derfully fertile
> detachments of tanned and         husky young      men   with     pick
> and shovel, grading for a         new    system of good roads,
> while groups of equally muscular young women were
> seated on long piles of rock which they were successfully
> pulverizing for the macadam surface. On the grade
> at
> 
> the farther end of the valley were  long trains of horses
> 
> and military wagons,         winding    over   the hills to   a   new
> 
> location.
> On the  following day Abdul Baha placed his carriage
> at our disposal and we drove again through this
> coun
> 
> end of the lake to Bethsaida
> try and around the northern
> and    almost   to   Capernaum.      We were informed that
> 
> [95]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> plans have   been made for       a   new   city   on   the site of
> Bethsaida, commanding a wonderful view down the lake,
> which is over twelve miles long and six miles wide at
> its widest point; but at present all is desolation.
> In visiting these places the traveler who is familiar
> with the Scriptures will recall the words of the Saviour,
> who said: "Woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty
> works which were done unto you had been done in Tyre
> or Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sack
> *   *   *
> cloth and ashes.                And thou, Capernaum, which
> art exalted unto heaven, shall be brought down to hell."
> As we looked about us         we   concluded that this   proph
> ecy had been literally fulfilled, and "the line of confu
> sion" successfully stretched over this entire region.
> 
> [96]
> XII
> 
> Interviews With Abdul Baha
> 
> Before   going further it might be well to explain that
> the three outstanding figures in the Bahai world are
> Ali Muhammad, known as the Bab (meaning the Door
> or Gate) ; Huseyn Ali of Nur, afterwards called Baha
> 
> Ullah (pronounced Buh-hah Oo-lah, accented on the
> second and fourth syllables and meaning the "Glory of
> God"), and Abdul Baha (pronounced Ahb-dool Buh-hah,
> accented on the first and last syllables, and meaning
> literally "Slave or Servant of the Glory"). The latter
> is the son of Baha Ullah, and is the present head of the
> movement.
> 
> Among the Bahais these three personages are regarded
> respectively as the Messenger, the Manifestation and the
> Expounder of the cause. Of these, the first was martyred
> in 1850 at the age of thirty, in the public square at
> Tabriz; the second, Beha Ullah, after being persecuted
> and imprisoned for nearly forty years, finally departed
> this life in May, 1892, at Behje, near Acca, where he is
> buried.    Before his death he appointed his son, Abdul
> Baha to be the "Center of the Covenant," and author
> ized Expounder of his writings. The only claim that
> Abdul   Baha   makes   for himself is that he   is   a   great
> educator, and the Servant of God in this Revelation.
> Sir Abdul Baha Abbas (as he was recently knighted
> by  the English government), was born in Teheran,
> 
> [97]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> Persia, May 23, 1844, and is consequently in the seventy-
> eighth year of his age. He is a genial, kindly man of
> medium size, somewhat stooped, with long, snow-white
> hair and beard.   His face is browned and seamed with
> many lines that at first would seem to indicate a man
> of more advanced age ; but in his movements he is active
> and alert, while his majestic bearing gives one the im
> pression that he is a person of prominence and power.
> You   are  immediately attracted by his large grey eyes
> that have a kindly, but searching look, and seem to take
> in everything at a glance.      His mental and physical
> faculties are in full vigor. He wears a long, brown robe
> of silk and camel's wool, with wide, flowing sleeves, and
> his massive head is crowned with a pure white turban.
> In speech he is ready and apt; his expressions concise
> and exact, and his genial talks lead up to a point and
> convey a lesson, which his
> hearers cannot fail to grasp.
> 
> During the early stages of our trip I had entertained
> see this important person (as
> vague hopes that I might
> I had not yet received permission to visit him), and
> often wondered if I would really meet him. You can
> inter
> imagine my surprise when I was invited to daily
> views with him during  our short  stay in Tiberias, and
> 
> the honor I felt in being accorded a private interview
> of three-quarters of an hour's duration.
> When ushered into his presence, you are greeted with
> are you ?" in English, strongly
> a kindly smile and "How
> 
> accented on the second word.      If you reply, "Very
> 
> well!" he laughingly repeats it in Persian, which is very
> like the English expression, and invites you to be seated;
> 
> {98 1
> Interviews With Abdul Bahai
> 
> after which he usually inquires of each one, "Are you
> well and happy?" Then, after a few preliminary remarks,
> he     begins      his
> talk, which lasts from twenty to thirty
> minutes.    You listen, or answer the questions directed
> to you, until he has finished, when he rises, shakes hands
> all around, and ends the interview.      As he speaks very
> little English, his talks are in Persian, and translated by
> his secretary, Azizullah, who has a ready command of
> English as well as Persian, Arabic and other languages.
> In the first interview, which was given in his room
> in the tower of the hotel at Tiberias, he commented on
> the beauty of the scenery of Palestine, and related how
> the Lord told Abraham that it                   was    the finest in the
> world and if there          was   anything better He would have
> given it      to    him.   He then likened it to            California, its
> climate, the contour of the hills, its flowers and foliage
> being much the same, and in this respect he called
> California "the          Holy Land of America."             He concluded
> his talk with the story of the             man        who wanted to be
> come a Bahai.
> 
> Some years ago, he said, he was traveling through
> Persia, in company with several others, one of whom
> was     a   merchant       known    to    him    as    a   man   of   rather
> questionable reputation.            The   caravan      stopped   at   a   cer
> 
> tain town, and numbers of the people flocked out to
> meet Abdul   Baha.  From there they proceeded to
> another town, where more people came out to meet him; then
> to   another town, where the same thing was repeated.                 After
> this    had     occurred     a    number        of    times,   and    every
> where crowds of            people   had   invariably       rushed out to
> 
> [99]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> meet       him, the merchant called him aside and told him
> he wished to become           a   Bahai.   On   being asked why,
> he said, "You are a Bahai, and wherever you go great
> crowds of people flock out to meet you, while no one
> comes to meet me ; so I wish to become a Bahai." Asked
> 
> if that      was   the real reason, he replied, "I also think it
> will   help       my business, as I will have all these people
> come       to meet me."     Then Abdul Baha told him, "Do not
> become        a    Bahai.   It is better for you to remain    as
> 
> you are."
> The moral to this little story was too obvious to need
> any    explanation.
> The next day Abdul Baha spoke of the essential and
> non-essential things of life and illustrated his remarks
> with the story of the young Arab woman who preferred
> not to live in thecity. It seems that a wealthy man
> who was traveling through the desert happened to meet
> a young Arab woman, and being struck
> with her youth
> and beauty, begged her to accompany him to the city,
> other
> offering her many inducements to do so. Among
> adorn her         with  silk  and
> things, he offered to            person
> should   have   the
> costly raiment, promising that she
> beautiful
> daintiest and most expensive morsels to eat; a
> to wait      her. After
> palace to live in, and servants         upon
> he had       exhausted his glowing arguments, the young
> Arab       woman          at him and said, "Why should I
> laughed
> be    a                              your expensive
> prisoner, and shut myself up
> in
> 
> walls? Why should   I worry with  your silks and fine
> have all that I need.
> raiment? Here I am happy and
> and I have the pure
> The whole blue sky is above me,
> 
> [100]
> ESESESESE^BaSSHiailMf esf*           '
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> 
> ABUL'I. BAHA
> Interviews With Abdul Bahai
> 
> air to breathe.   Why should I give up my freedom?"
> Early one morning I visited Magdala, and returning
> at about      eleven o'clock I noticed that Abdul Baha            was
> 
> seated alone in the       parlor   of the hotel.   As I    passed,
> he   came    to the door and beckoned     me   to enter.      While
> he    was    saying, "Come    in!" his gestures indicated the
> opposite direction;      but as I had been informed before
> hand of this lack of co-ordination in his          signals,   I   en
> 
> tered.      After the usual salutations, he called in his secre
> tary and said, "You have been    to Magdala!    How did
> you like it?               expressed the desire, I would
> If you had
> have placed my carriage at your disposal."      He mar
> veled that I had walked so far; but I explained that on
> the steamer we had made it a practice to walk twenty
> miles each day, in order to keep in good condition. He
> took a handful of shells which I had just picked up on
> the beach near Magdala, and commented on their beauty
> and then inquired if I would like to hear the history of
> Mary Magdalene. On being assured that I would, espe
> cially from him, he proceeded to relate the history,
> which in substance is as follows:
> Magdala, the little village I had just visited, was the
> birthplace of Mary, known as the Magdalene. She was
> a beautiful girl in the habit of coming often to Tiberias,
> 
> where at that time many Roman soldiers were located.
> Here she attracted the attention of a young Roman
> officer, with whom she later lived on terms of intimacy.
> In the course of time, this officer was transferred to
> Rome, and was advanced to a position of trust in the
> affairs of the Roman       Empire     being well liked and en-
> 
> [101]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> joying the favor of the Emperor.             After his   departure
> from    Tiberias, the well-known           events   occurred   that
> changed            Mary. She forsook her former life,
> the life of
> embraced the faith and became an ardent Christian.
> In those      days, immediately following the crucifixion,
> the Jews were being severely persecuted by the Romans,
> and Mary was chosen to go to Rome and intercede for
> them. On her arrival at Rome, one of the first persons
> she met was the young officer who had been her lover
> in Tiberias, and who was overjoyed at seeing her think
> ing that her great love for him had induced her to make
> the    long journey.       He lost    inviting her to
> no   time in
> come with him; but she refused, saying that she was
> 
> not    the   same    woman     he had known at Tiberias.  He
> then inquired why          she had come to Rome if not to see
> 
> him? To which she              replied, "To see the Roman Em
> peror!" This somewhat astounded the young officer,
> who thought she was making sport with him. Finally
> all
> she convinced him of her sincerity by telling him
> that had happened in the Holy Land since his departure,
> how she had            of her former life and become a
> repented
> Christian.   The young man was so touched by her
> for her
> recital that he offered to secure an interview
> his high posi
> with the Emperor. This, on account of
> and  in   few  days   she entered
> tion, he was able to do,
> a
> 
> the presence of the Emperor, who
> met  her   kindly and
> for her.   To   which   she re
> inquired what he could do
> Somewhat per
> plied "For myself, I want nothing."
> had  sought      interview with
> plexed, he asked why she
> an
> 
> and she answered, "I have  come  to ask   you in the
> him,
> 
> [102]
> Interviews With Abdul Bahai
> 
> name    of the Christians to stop the            persecutions of the
> Jews   in Palestine."   The Emperor              exclaimed, "I have
> been  doing   this   as    a   favor to the Christians    to   punish
> the Jews for crucifying your Christ !"             But Mary assured
> him    that the Christians did not want this; that their
> religion was based on love              not revenge.
> 
> This idea   was     so       new   to the   Emperor that he asked
> her to explain to him more about this strange new creed,
> and in the end agreed to comply with her request. At
> the close of the interview, the Emperor ordered her to
> be well cared for, and showed her many honors during
> her stay in Rome.
> "This," said Abdul Baha, in closing, "shows the power
> of the  Spirit. Here was a poor and ignorant woman,
> who in her youth had been a girl of the street and re
> spected by no one, but whose life had been transformed
> and illumined by the Spirit.  From a lowly station she
> had been elevated by  the power of the Spirit, until she
> was received and honored by an Emperor.    Other things
> pass away,    but the power  of the Spirit is sure and
> eternal !"
> His talk the   following day was on the folly of devot
> ing one's life simply to the accumulation of money. As
> an illustration he cited an incident that occurred during
> 
> his visit to New York City in 1912:
> A noted banker had been making a collection of rare
> Persian and Oriental manuscripts and invited Abdul
> Baha to come at a certain hour and give him an opinion
> as to whether or not they were genuine.       At the ap
> time he  was conducted to the banker's library
> pointed
> 
> [103]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> and soon after his arrival was informed by a messenger
> that his host     was    detained, but would arrive presently.
> After some time, a second messenger arrived, expressing
> his regrets that an urgent business meeting had prevented
> the banker from         arriving on time, but that he would
> come  very        Then Abdul Baha said that he was
> soon.
> 
> sorry he  could not remain longer, as he, too, was a
> busy man.
> "Thus," he said, "a man who is spending his time
> trying to amass great riches, is not a free man, but is a
> slave to his wealth. After all, if wealth was the prin
> cipal thing, then Christ would have devoted His life
> to money-getting, as He had a brain undoubtedly equal
> to the task; but He realized that other things are of
> more consequence, and that the things of the Spirit are
> 
> the only ones that are eternal."
> In our final interview the next morning, he spoke of
> the pleasure our visit had given him.   He wished us
> success  in our work and promised to pray for us in the
> with
> silent hours of the night. He urged us to go forth
> of
> renewed courage, and a determination to live a life
> of color, race
> service; to be kind to everyone regardless
> or condition; to be "a cause
> of healing for every sick
> 
> one,   a    comforter for every sorrowful one, a pleasant
> for every
> water      forevery        one, a heavenly table
> thirsty
> to everyone who yearns for
> hungry one, and a herald
> the Kingdom of God."
> 
> [104]
> XIII
> 
> Snapshots on the Sea of Galilee
> Before taking final leave of the Province of Galilee, I wish
> to   sketch in two or three more details to help complete the
> picture and possibly add a bit of local color.
> One afternoon I strolled down in that section where the
> native bazaars pollute the city of Tiberias, incidentally break
> ing into some Moslem's filthy backyard in order to get a
> better view of a tall palm tree, that had been pointed out to
> us by Abdul Baha from the hotel window, as marking the
> spot where Jesus called Peter to follow Him and "become
> a    fisher of men."
> I wandered on down the narrow and tortuous lanes, when
> 
> suddenly I saw approaching me a feminine fashion-plate that
> looked like a recent importation from New York or Los
> Angeles. A jaunty wide-brimmed hat and a swagger-stick
> completed an animated picture which was making the lazy
> Orientals sit up and take notice.     I   was   somewhat dazed at
> first, but managed to keep on my way until I arrived at the
> outskirts of the    city, where I found a film factory, with a
> crowd of real camels, donkeys and other Oriental accessories.
> I concluded that the vision I had just met in the bazaars was
> a movie queen returning from a day's work devoted to Art
> 
> and the Unspeakable Drama!
> As there was a fine view of the lake from the hills back
> of the hotel, I was in the habit of strolling up there just
> before dinner, and had noticed on several occasions a wild
> 
> [105]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> young Arab    woman flying up the road ahead of me and
> 
> disappearing in a patch of greenery. When my curiosity was
> sufficiently aroused, I made a closer investigation. I found
> the young lady in question had cross-eyes and carried a carv
> 
> ing knife, with which she cut stalks of chicory, seated herself
> and proceeded with her "al fresco" meal. In a few minutes
> the repast was finished and she was tripping back to the city
> as happy as a lark gorged with lady-bugs.    This little incident
> offered a solution of a problem   we  had often discussed, as to
> how any man on an ordinary income could support a respect
> able sized harem in these days of expensive living. It was
> now easy to see that a fairly large harem might be
> maintained
> were properly   trained   and
> very reasonably, provided they
> satisfied with such a simple vegetarian diet as the lady  under
> 
> discussion.
> That the women of the Orient are trained, whether properly
> or not, was borne out in several
> other instances. It was not
> household riding
> unusual to see the lord and master of the
> mouse-colored   donkey,   seated far
> into Tiberias on a runty
> sockless feet encased
> back on the animal's rump, his swinging
> of his wives (I presume
> in loose flapping slippers, while one
> barefooted at the
> the favorite one), was trotting along
> master's high red boots, to
> animal's heels, and carrying the
> the city.
> be worn when he reached
> a liberal supply of empty
> The women of Tiberias, aided by
> water
> five-gallon oil cans, also provide  pipe line to convey
> a
> 
> As this water brigade
> fL   the lake for domestic purpose,
> is plenty of water
> n
> 
> s kept in action
> all day long, and there
> to be settled to
> of a water supply seems
> me lake the question
> 
> ^faction     of the Tiberians.     In   some cases   of great
> 
> [106]
> Snapshots on the Sea of Galilee
> 
> urgency,     some   of these    balance a five-gallon can of
> women
> 
> water on their heads, and carry one in each hand.
> For the sake of ease and convenience the   family washing
> is still carried down to the lake, where the clothes are rubbed
> and pounded on the rocks.       Some modern conveniences are,
> however, gradually      coming into use, as the dining-room of
> our hotel  had two or three windows equipped with fly screens
> and    one screened door, which was always kept open. But
> the flies are not yet accustomed to these innovations, refusing
> to leave the dining-room through the open door, and pre
> 
> ferring to fall in the soup or decorate the flypaper doilies
> on   the tables and window sills.
> One   evening,   whichhappened to be the seventeenth of
> March, we were seated         the hotel terrace enjoying a post
> on
> 
> prandial smoke, when an unusual commotion arose just
> around the corner. This was followed by wierd singing and
> a little later developed into a torchlight procession, consisting
> 
> of candles, kerosene lamps and torches, and illuminating a lot
> of red "tarbushes." All we could get out of the natives was,
> "The birthday!" and we wondered if the Patron Saint of
> Ireland was also revered in this Province. Later in the eve
> ning some guests at the hotel returned, and we learned from
> them the rest of the story. It seems that they had been invited
> to attend a wedding feast at the home of a prominent Moslem
> 
> just back of the hotel. This Moslem, who was very rich, was
> also a fine mathematician, and he had figured it out that by
> giving this wedding feast on the night of Mahomed's birth
> day, one lot of lights and refreshments would answer for both
> occasions.   So while some were celebrating his offspring's
> 
> [107]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> wedding, the others could commemorate the birth of the
> Prophet, and all at a minimum of expense.
> There is a large, though somewhat dilapidated, Turkish
> mosque in Tiberias, located about half a block from our hotel.
> The second morning after our arrival, I was startled by an
> unearthly cry and jumped up, thinking that perhaps the
> premises were on fire. Finally I traced the outcry to the
> muezzin, who, from the top of his minaret, was sending his
> call to prayers to the four quarters of the earth.How many
> of the faithful heeded, performed their ablutions and recited
> their prayers, it is impossible to state, as there was not any
> visible response.
> Another unique character was a young Turkish bootblack,
> who had a little box affair just inside the front door of the
> hotel, but who spent most of his time sitting in an automobile
> parked outside, droning a Turkish love song which contained
> one   thousand or more verses.    On the foot rest of his box he
> had a little call bell which he jingled as he finished each shoe.
> He was always ready with a broad smile as he pocketed your
> two       of
> pieces        and whether they were half piastres or
> money,
> there were
> whole ones seemed to make no difference, provided
> two of them.
> With all its drawbacks and lack of modern
> conveniences,
> to visit, and if
> Tiberias is an interesting and pleasant place
> the plans of the English are allowed
> to mature, the place will
> its own. Plans have already been made
> some  day come into
> of the present one. A new
> for a new city to be located back
> the system of good roads is
> wharf is to be built, and when
> take on new life. As to the
> finished, the city will undoubtedly
> in such a wretched condition that
> old part of the town, it is
> 
> [108]
> Snapshots on the Sea of Galilee
> 
> its only hope lies in liberal quantities of dynamite.   The only
> wonder is that something stronger and more dangerous than
> malaria is not germinated within its unsanitary borders.    But
> the  surrounding scenery is fine and the lake is beautiful,
> although at times it can become quite rough and tempestuous,
> as we discovered   the day after our arrival, when the cold wind
> whistled down from the snow-covered peaks of Mt. Hermon,
> which stands on the northern boundary of Palestine, about
> fifty miles away. In a few hours the lake was too rough for
> navigation, and continued so for a couple of days, so there is
> no doubt about its ability to put up a good storm on short
> 
> notice. For my part, I was rather glad of the disagreeable
> weather; we had already been treated to a jolly good fog in
> London, and were fortunate enough to witness, a few weeks
> later, a real storm on the Sea of Galilee.
> 
> [109]
> xiv
> 
> From the Sea of Galilee to Jerusalem
> 
> Our three hours' ride by train from Semakh to Haifa was
> not exactly    hilarious, owing to the fact that we had become
> very damp during our trip across the lake. Although the boat
> was provided with a roof and side curtains, they had both
> 
> seen better   days, and the rain seemed to collect and form little
> rills that trickled down on the passengers who were closely
> packed inside.
> The next morning       was   showery, but I decided to take a
> chance and visit the Caves of Elijah, as his adventure with
> the ravens was one memory of my Sunday-school days which
> had made an indelible impression.     Although it is recorded
> that the affair occurred at the brook Cherith, near Jerusalem,
> I realized that there might have been an encore elsewhere;
> at any rate the Latin Carmelites seemed to think so, as they
> have built quite a large monastery over the cave the entrance
> to which is under the high altar.
> At the side of the mountain, which is about five hundred
> feet high, are several other large caves, one of which is called
> the Cave of the Prophets, where Elijah hid "one hundred of
> the Lord's prophets by fifty and fed them with bread and
> water."   In some of these caves are wonderfully constructed
> cisterns, but as the monks explained that there has been a
> continuity of religious guardians to this mountain since the
> time of Elijah, it seems highly probable that these cisterns
> were hollowed out of the
> solid rock at a later date, perhaps
> who located there about 400 A. D.
> by the Greek hermits
> 
> [HO]
> From the Sea       of Galilee to Jerusalem
> 
> The interior of the caves shows that the mountain is com
> posed of limestone in stratas about a foot in thickness, which
> are   marked by thin veins or nodules of flint.
> The Holy Family are supposed to have rested somewhere
> near here on their flight to Egypt, and it is often mentioned
> 
> by the writers of the Old Testament Solomon comparing the
> beauty of his spouse to the summit of this mountain.
> The place seems to be regaining some of the "excellence"
> ascribed to it by Isaiah, as the mountain and valley presented
> a beautiful appearance on this particular Sunday in March.
> 
> The sides of the mountain        were   covered with luxuriant
> wild flowers and     foliage; a short distance below stood the
> Tomb of the Bab, with its sentinels of tall cypresses, sur
> rounded by orange and lemon trees, among which roses and
> other bright flowers were in full bloom. Still lower in the
> 
> valley, spread out along the shore of the bay, lay the city of
> Haifa, with its white stone houses and red tile roofs nestling
> among orange, olive, palm and eucalyptus trees. Beyond the
> town  stretched the calm blue Mediterranean, with its snow-
> white beach, like a crescent, that merged into the white city
> of Acca at the further end of the bay. About the middle of
> the crescent a large grove of tall feathery palms extended
> down almost to the water's edge, back of which lay the Garden
> of Rizwan.
> While     busily engaged    in   admiring   the   panorama   that
> stretched out before us, a sudden shower broke loose, and by
> the time we reached Haifa we found ourselves soaked a second
> time.   But the view was worth it to say nothing of the
> historical interest attached to the places visited.
> In the afternoon we again attended services at the Tomb
> 
> [111]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> of the Bab, and, being strangers, were served with tea and
> refreshments, as were also a few of the very old men who
> were   present.
> In line with Oriental customs, the women meet in a separate
> room; but in deference to Western        ideas, our party, after
> removing their shoes at the door, was allowed to remain
> together. We enjoyed the chanting of Sheik Mahomed Ali,
> who seemed to outdo himself on this occasion.
> The    following day, March twenty-first, was the Feast of
> Nawruz      the Persian New Year, which has been celebrated
> in Persia for the last five thousand years.   In its native haunts,
> it is a long affair, lasting about two weeks, and all labor is
> suspended during the time which is given over to visiting and
> feasting.
> We were all invited to attend this feast, which was given
> at the "big house"  the home of Abdul Baha. After an hour
> of social converse, with several rounds of Persian tea and
> nogul (a delicious candy), we adjourned to the dining-room
> aplainly furnished but immense room, where we sat around
> a long table and enjoyed an excellent lunch. It consisted of
> the customary pilau (a savory dish composed of rice, flavored
> with grated orange rind, chopped meat, raisins, etc.), fruit,
> Syrian bread, cafe fort, and pudding made of rice flour.
> Afterwards, we were taken to another room and shown the
> only existing portraits of the Bab, Baha Ullah, with other
> reverence by the
> pictures and relics which are held in great
> Bahais.
> The morning after the Feast of Nawruz, we bade farewell
> the train for Jerusalem.
> to the friends at Haifa, and took
> 
> [112]
> From the Sea   of Galilee to Jerusalem
> 
> It was not an easy task to say "good-bye," as the friends in
> Haifa seemed nearer to us than any we had met.
> In going from Haifa to Jerusalem, it is necessary to return
> to the junction at Ludd, and change to the train coming from
> 
> Jaffa. As travel to the Holy City happened to be very heavy
> (it was near Easter), we found ourselves in a compartment
> taxed to the limit by the presence of a huge monk, accom
> panied by two fair-skinned, blue-eyed, but fully-grown-up
> sisters and one young man, which reinforcements, added to
> the four in our own party and our combined baggage, made
> the quarters rather too close for comfort.   As the compart
> mentwas on the hot, sunny side of the car, and the ample
> 
> German monk and his sisters had organized a continuous
> lunch-party, I soon compromised by standing outside in the
> corridor, trying to extract a little comfort from a new pipe
> I had brought from Egypt to replace the one that had ended
> its fragrant career in the Grand Canal at Venice.
> We found very little to enjoy in the way of scenery, as the
> "plummet of emptiness" seemed to have been successfully
> lowered over the whole country.
> We passed the Crusader's Tower at Ramleh, and saw,
> beyond a low range of hills to the left and some eight or ten
> miles away, the Plain of Ajalon, where Joshua had com
> manded the sun and moon to stand still. A few miles further
> on we entered the Valley of Sorek, famous as the birthplace
> 
> of Samson, and the scene of his subsequent adventures with
> Delilah.
> The scenery continued to grow more savage and wild, and
> shortly after leaving Dier Aban we entered the jaws of a
> to the highlands near Jerusalem.
> gorge that forms the pass
> 
> [113]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Near here is the famous spot where Samson is said to have
> lost his temper, but forthwith found the jawbone of an ass
> with which he slew    a   thousand men, which would     seem to
> 
> exceed the present population of the entire country by at least
> nine hundred and ninety men.
> A few minutes later our train stopped to take on water, and
> our attention was attracted to three men   overseeing some three
> score women    carrying rocks balanced on their heads, from a
> valley about fifty feet lower, up to the railroad cars on the
> siding. These women all wore shoes whose soles are sup
> posed to grow thicker with age and use, and formed a con
> tinuous procession up the steep hillside an ancient but suc
> cessful system of telpherage.
> As the train made an average speed of less than fifteen miles
> and rocky
> per hour, winding mile after mile through barren
> out under the
> gorges abounding in small caves hollowed
> shelves of limestone, we were not sorry when we reached the
> Vale of Rephaim, where David smote the Philistines, and
> finally entered the railroad station at Jerusalem, which is
> located some little distance outside the walls and something
> over half a mile from the Jaffa Gatethe principal
> entrance
> 
> into the city from the south.
> The first view of the city which presents itself to the
> particularly
> is not             attrac
> stranger, coming from this direction,
> tive.
> The hills on all sides are immense mounds of limestone,
> on
> 
> the  glaringwhite side of which are shallow terraces, one above
> another, held in place by row after row
> of rock-retaining
> walls laid up loosely, so that the outskirts
> of the city resemble
> an   immense rock quarry in full     operation and able to fill
> unlimited orders.
> 
> [114]
> From the Sea of Galilee to Jerusalem
> 
> The roads are inclosed by stone walls from five to eight
> feet high and from two to four feet thick, and still the harvest
> of rocks has not been completely gathered.
> Each   one  of the terraces supports one or more straggly
> olive trees surrounded by a small patch of pasturage which
> seems to take care of itself, as nowhere in any
> of the fields
> 
> werethere workers visible.
> of the city
> Across the valley of Hinnom, the ancient walls
> loomed up, and the massive tower, erroneously
> ascribed to
> Gate.
> King David, stood guarding the Jaffa
> At the right of the city lies the deep valley of Jehoshaphat,
> and still further away
> beyond which is the Mount of Olives,
> in the   distance, the   mysterious   mountains of Moab rise
> 
> wrapped in a purple haze.
> the Hill
> To the right of the railroad station stretches away
> Iscariot met   the emissaries and
> of Evil Counsel, where    Judas
> of which
> bargained   to   betray his Masterthe eastern slope
> is now marked by the "Potter's Field."
> While we were absorbed in viewing the surroundings,
> our
> 
> our luggage in front of the
> porters had been busy assembling
> cabmen.
> station and holding exciting interviews with waiting
> that all the cabs were engaged; but we
> Finally they reported
> to have some kind
> insisted that it was very necessary for us
> one of them dis
> of a conveyance. After a little persuasion,
> in about a quarter of an hour re
> appeared over the hill and                   over and over that
> turned with one rickety cab, explaining
> we climbed into the creaky affair,
> there were no more. So
> around the driver, and hoping for the
> piled our suit cases up
> flock of porters trotting along behind.
> best jogged off with a
> hill and over a large stone bridge, at
> Passing down a steep
> 
> [115]
> A Modern     Pilgrimage
> 
> the left of which is the old Pool of Gihon, we wound around
> under the walls of Mt. Zion, the southwestern corner of the
> city.
> These walls thirty-five to forty feet in height are built on
> the solid rock which crops out from fifty to one hundred feet
> above the roadway.    The ancient portion of the wall is easily
> traced by the Immense size of the stones, the upper and later
> sections being composed of smaller rocks and showing inferior
> workmanship.
> Finally, after painful toiling with the odds largely against
> our weather-beaten conveyance, we arrived at the Jaffa Gate,
> 
> where we were very much interested in a modern addition in
> the shape of a clock-tower, the dials of which indicate both the
> English and Turkish hours.    This clock is an ingenious affair,
> which strikes twice for the Turkish hours and at sunset points
> to twelve o'clock. As the hands were getting around toward
> this point we lost no time in looking up a hotel.
> 
> [116]
> XV
> 
> In Jerusalem
> 
> One of the first        things    that   impresses   a   visitor in
> Jerusalem     is its small   size, for in the short space of an
> hour, one can walk around the walls of the entire city.
> This  feeling is followed by one of disappointment, as
> the city in which you are interested is not visible, but
> is buried from thirty to one hundred feet below the
> surface.   The only part of the old city that we ever
> saw was in the basement of a church where they have
> 
> uncovered    few square feet of pavement, said to be
> a
> 
> the courtyard of Pontius Pilate's palace. This pave
> ment had possibly been used by soldiers or other persons
> of leisure, as some of the stones had small, irregular
> squares scratched on them, as if they had been used for
> playing games.
> We were thrilled by the thought that possibly Roman
> soldiers    were   onthis very spot while the Cross was
> being    carried along the Via Dolorosa, which lay just a
> few feet away; then we were suddenly reminded that
> landmarks had been obliterated by Titus less than a
> century after the Great Tragedy (even to the foundation
> of the     buildings),   and it  absolutely impossible to
> was
> 
> tell whether this   might not be the Tower of Antonia
> or some other place, instead of Pilate's palace.  The only
> thing we  could  be reasonably sure  of was  that we were
> 
> looking  on a  small  piece of the  original pavement of
> the ancient city.
> 
> [117]
> A Modem       Pilgrimage
> 
> The present walls of Jerusalem inclose an area of only
> two   hundred   and   ten      thirty-five of which are
> acres,
> occupied by     theHaram,      Temple, inclosure. The
> or
> 
> original city was built on four hills, once separated by
> deep valleys, but now largely filled up by the debris
> resulting from the various destructive disasters which
> overwhelmed and almost completely obliterated it.
> The position of the city has not remained stationary,
> as the north wall has been changed three times, and
> 
> now runs about half a mile beyond the original boun
> 
> dary. The south wall has also been moved north, so
> that Jerusalem in the time of Christ, and up to its
> destruction by Titus, was at least a third larger than at
> present. The city is now divided into four quarters,
> each one occupied by people of a different religion; the
> Mahomedans occupy the northeast, the Christians (Greek
> and Roman Catholics) the northwest, the Armenians the
> southwest, and the Jews the southeast section of the
> city.
> Outside the walls,   the north and northwest sides,
> on
> 
> a large area and
> a modern city has grown up, covering
> 
> more inhabitants than the city inside
> the walls.
> boasting
> About ten years ago, the population, which is gradually
> was estimated at sixty-eight thousand,
> of
> increasing,
> thousand
> whom    eight thousand are Mahomedans,        ten
> 
> Christians and fifty thousand Jews.
> this little    city
> For the practical, matter-of-fact person,
> all    the
> contains many surprises and disappointments
> information given, as well as the sights shown,    apare
> 
> and are either based on deduction, or
> proximate  only,
> 
> [118]
> In Jerusalem
> 
> unreliable tradition which has shifted from time to time
> to suit the  exigencies of the occasion, and the conveni
> ence   of the pilgrims. When the visitor is shown some
> thing of vital interest and inquires if this is really the
> place, etc., the guide feebly admits that the real place
> must have been somewhere                near   here, but is now buried
> from    forty   to   a   hundred feet below the spot at which
> he is looking!
> The massive structure, shown as the Tower of    David,
> was    not   built   by him; but probably by King Herod,
> something like a thousand years later. The Mosque of
> Omar, the one beautiful building in Jerusalem, is not a
> mosque, and it was not built by Omar; it is simply a
> shrine to cover the Holy Rock, a place revered alike by
> Christians and Moslems.             To cite     a   few more instances:
> When we were     visiting         the
> Coenaculum, the traditional
> place of the Last Supper, I was foolish enough to in
> quire if this was really the room where the Last Supper
> was    held, and         was   told that   the real     room   was   per
> haps forty      feet lower than the            room
> we were where
> standing;  but could  not  be  visited because a harem
> occupied the lower part of the building. You walk along
> the Via Dolorosa, and note the different Stations of the
> Cross arbitrarily marked by bronze tablets on the walls;
> but you are inwardly tormented by the thought that
> the exact location of the original Way is unknown; that
> it is supposed to be somewhere in this locality, but from
> forty to seventy feet lower than the pavement on which
> you    are   walking.      You    are   taken to the Tombs of the
> Kings, and find there is          no    evidence or even probability
> 
> [119]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> that any kings were            ever    buried there.      In despair, you
> ask to be taken to the                 Garden of        Gethsemane, walk
> reverently along the gravel walks and among the
> gnarled and aged trees, finally to learn that the Greeks
> have a rival garden near by, which they staunchly main
> tain   is    the    true   one.        You   are   shown    the    tomb   of
> Absolom, David and others, but by this time you are
> a little incredulous and balk at the tomb of Adam, which
> 
> is   pointed out in the Holy Sepulchre!
> The foregoing remarks are not to be considered irrev
> erent,      as    they   are   not     so   intended.     They    are   made
> 
> merely       to    show how       impossible       it is for the average
> visitor in         Jerusalem      to   accept seriously many things
> that have         no   real claim to probability,
> although blindly
> believed by thousands who do not stop to investigate.
> Many people, having come a long distance "to see the
> sights," would be sorely disappointed if they were not
> accommodated, so they are taken on the regular round.
> I do not wish to dwell too much on this, but the
> following incident is worth telling: The primary object
> of a pilgrimage to Jerusalem is to visit the Holy
> Sepulchre, and I will describe faithfully (but truthfully),
> little party. On
> just how this was accomplished by our
> the Wednesday morning preceding Easter, we were
> con
> 
> ducted to a place outside the walls near      the Damascus
> of a cliff depicts
> Gate, where the rough, rocky formation
> a human skull.     The    hollow  eyes and  gaping features
> and it is known  as  Skull Hill, or
> are plainly discernible,
> "the          of the skull." This knoll is said
> place
> Golgotha,
> where criminals
> to   be the "House or Place of Stoning,"
> 
> [120]
> '
> 
> *?
> 
> THE HARDEN   OF   GETHSEMANE
> In Jerusalem
> 
> were      executed in former times.        On the top of the hill
> is   Moslem cemetery, and about one hundred yards to
> a
> 
> the left, a walled-in garden, which we entered. It was
> well kept, and from a rock at the eastern extremity
> the skull is visible, as well as several well-defined rifts
> undoubtedly caused by an earthquake. In the western
> end of the garden are traces of a large building (said to
> be the ancient Church of the Resurrection), and in the
> solid perpendicular rock of the hillside is a tomb, con
> taining an ante-chamber and two graves only one of
> which was ever finished or occupied.     At one side of
> the low door is a narrow window opening into the
> inner tomb and in front is the groove for the rolling
> stone.
> The   attendant, a middle-aged        woman,     explained that
> this was the garden of Joseph of Arimathea, and pointed
> out      how the different features tallied with the Biblical
> narrative.      As   we    were   leaving the garden,      convinced
> that we had seen and entered the tomb of our Lord, the
> guide hastened to say, "I will now take you to the real
> Holy Sepulchre what we know and believe is where
> Jesus Christ was buried!" And so we quietly followed
> him through the Damascus Gate, along a narrow but
> picturesque lane to the church generally known as the
> Holy Sepulchre.
> I had heard that in olden times anyone who had made
> a    pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre was entitled to be
> called    a Hadji, but we could not help feeling that this
> title was somewhat obsolete,         or   at least   needed revision.
> For      on   the   same   morning we      had visited two      Holy
> 
> [121]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Sepulchres,        each   having equally good        and   plausible
> arguments in its favor, except that the latter was more
> widely known and recognized and had a greater age to
> its credit.
> In order to finish all the dark and unattractive side
> of the picture first, we will briefly recall another in
> cident.
> We found that even as the walls of the city had been
> moved about, so had the Holy Places been changed
> from    one       part of the city   to   another, in order to suit
> the convenience of pilgrims, and had been renamed from
> time to time to conform to whatever religion happened
> to be in power.    Mt. Zion, which was originally on the
> eastern hill, is now at the southwestern corner of the
> 
> city,and the           Turk, who still occupies the lower
> obliging
> fitted up the
> part of      a   prominent building there, has
> of which  has been    moved the
> upper rooms, into one
> as the
> tomb of David, while the adjoining one is shown
> Coenaculum.         All of which, for a few piastres, can be viewed
> 
> by the pious or otherwise.
> The Sacred Rock (inclosed in the
> misnamed Mosque
> a footprint,
> of Omar) has some indentations resembling
> which are pointed out   as  the footprints  of Jesus, though
> attributed  to the
> under Mahomedan rule they
> were
> 
> foot of the Prophet.
> pressure of the
> one comes to the
> After a few days of sight-seeing,
> is as interesting and
> conclusion that a visit to Jerusalem
> of golf-you travel over
> fascinating as an amateur game
> the course even if you
> feel you are not making much
> of a score!
> 
> [122]
> In Jerusalem
> 
> We reveled in the antiquity of the place, gazing at the
> massive walls, trying to realize that three thousand years
> have  elapsed since King David selected this site as the
> Capital of the Kingdom of Israel, and wondering which,
> if any, of these huge stones were standing in their
> original locations. But we are suddenly brought back
> to earth by learning that the present walls were built
> 
> by Sultan Suleiman, the Magnificent, as recently as 1542
> A. D., so we pass on down the narrow streets crowded
> with little bazaars, from which music issues forth. But
> we     refrained fromentering any of these dingy shops,
> fearing        ourmight be regaled with a phonographic
> ears
> 
> record purporting to be the voice of Miriam leading the
> daughters of Israel in her celebrated choric song exult
> ing over the destruction of the Egyptians in the Red Sea.
> It is hard to become reconciled to the fact that Jeru
> salem is regarded as a Holy City by all the warring
> religious sects, by Christians and Moslems alike, who
> jealously protect their rights at the point of the spear
> or   the sword.           The Mahomedans claim that          one   prayer
> said      in   Jerusalem        is worth       twenty-five thousand said
> elsewhere and have computed that one prayer at Medina
> is   as    good      as     fifty   thousand    offered elsewhere, while
> Mecca is rated still                higher   at one hundred thousand.
> At the Dome of the          Rock, you are shown the hoof-
> prints     of the     Prophet's horse, El-Burak, as it sprung up,
> carrying its rider to heaven. According to the tradition,
> the Rock started to follow the  Prophet and his divine
> steed; but the Angel Gabriel, with a
> mighty effort, laid
> hold of the Rock, and succeeded in staying it after it
> 
> [ 123 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> had moved only a few feet.           In so doing,    deep prints of
> his   fingers   were    made, which are still visible.
> But    we     pick up the slender narrative thread of
> must
> our adventures and relate the wanderings of our little
> 
> party in and around the City of Jerusalem during Holy
> Week of 1921 A. D.
> As stated before, we had reached the Jaffa Gate, our
> weather-beaten cab still intact, and while our non-
> Arabian steeds were more or less winded, the rear guard
> of porters was still trotting along in good form.
> We were mistaken in thinking this wide entrance was
> the Jaffa Gate (which stood modestly near by); the
> was cut through the walls to allow the
> larger opening
> German emperor, dressed in the white garb of a Cru
> sader, to ride through in state during his visit in 1898,
> ostensibly to dedicate a few German churches. Among
> these was the monumental but unattractive church on
> the modern       Mt.    Zion, which,   we   are    told, had   some
> 
> its walls and
> ceiling.   one      In
> wonderful decorations        on
> 
> the German conception
> panel the painter had portrayed
> of Deity, and in  the companion panel was shown the
> German emperor.          The Psalmist was- also pictured, with
> moustache upturned        in the approved German style. The
> everything
> and
> processions were doing the goose-step
> was brought down to date and to the glorification of the
> German emperor and his people.         However, we were
> as we were unable
> obliged to accept all this on hearsay,
> to wake up the attendant
> and have the church's portals
> there a few days later.
> unlocked when we called
> this
> But to return to the Jaffa Gate. Driving through
> 
> [124]
> In Jerusalem
> 
> new    entrance   (prior   to   its   construction vehicles   were
> 
> not    able to enter inside the        walls),   we   drove to the
> Grand New Hotel, and were  preparing             to   descend, when
> we were informed that the  "standing-room only" sign
> was on exhibition inside. We were taking counsel to
> and
> gether, when an obliging guide happened along
> offered to conduct us to "the best hotel in town!"             We
> 
> decided to take a chance, and off we started, our pro
> cession now consisting of a guide in front, our chariot,
> of
> platoon        reinforced by several
> porters
> supported by  a
> 
> others who    were    trying     to   break into the party, and
> followed by a number of small boys.
> With this noisy escort, we attracted considerable
> attention as we jogged along, and were not sorry when
> we reached our destination, which happened
> to be the
> 
> Hotellerie de  Notre Dame  de  France, a religious hos
> Fathers
> pice conducted by the French Assumptionist
> just  outside the new gate, called Bab Sultan Abdul
> Hamid, at the northwest corner of the city.
> The place appealed to us as having possibilities. Hav
> this
> ing put up at a variety of hotels on our way,
> seemed
> Hotellerie, with its hint of monastic simplicity,
> to offer a sure haven.   On entering, we noticed a tiled
> motto   in  the floor reading, Deus custodiat introitum
> tuum et exitum tuum, which, as nearly as I could
> re
> 
> member, would       mean    that "God       guards your going in
> and your going out." At one side of the inner entrance
> door will
> door, a sign in French informed you that "this
> to            after eleven and a half hours
> not be   opened   any person
> of the evening."     After      trying to put in a few evenings
> 
> [125]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> in the city, we found that hour to be plenty late enough.
> guide had preceded us down the stone corridor,
> The
> almost  a block long, up  several flights of stairs, and
> down another long corridor to our rooms, which looked
> out over New Calvary and the Damascus Gate.          We
> found, on  entering our room, that it was  large enough
> to   hold    a    narrow   iron   bedstead,   small washstand, a
> a
> 
> tallow candle and one chair.           The floor was red tile, the
> walls stone.       only wood in sight, except the fur
> The
> niture,     was       by which we had entered, and a
> the door
> wooden cross suspended on the bare wall. Nothing was
> lacking, or more correctly speaking, nothing had been
> added, to spoil the monastic effect.
> For the first time since we had left         our   native shores,
> there      were   no   blanks to fill out for the       police depart
> ment, and no register in which to enter our names. This,
> bythe way, was partly explained when we left, and had
> difficulty in getting a written bill, which was not re
> ceipted, as a receipted bill required a government stamp,
> and that would entail the outlay of a few piastres!
> After performing our ablutions, we found it still lacked
> a couple of hours before we could expect dinner,
> and
> in a unanimous prayer   for  refresh
> we all not       only joined
> ments, but also proceeded to locate the dining-room. By
> some freak or fatality we were always
> famished when
> ever we arrived in a new and strange place,
> and this
> 
> time was no exception to the rule.     So we   stated our
> 
> case    strongly as possible, and our arguments seemed
> as
> to be seated, and
> to have some weight, as we were told
> 
> presently a middle-aged daughter of
> Israel brought us
> 
> [126]
> In Jerusalem
> 
> a   pot of lukewarm   tea.   When   protested, she de
> we
> 
> murred that the tea was warm, and it was impossible to
> make it any warmer as there was no fire.   But we were
> 
> firm, and while she was away, ostensibly brewing fresh
> tea, we took a glance at our new surroundings.
> The refectory was true to monastic form, with stone
> floors and walls, and rows of large stone columns, sup
> porting a flat-arched ceiling. The tables were long
> affairs  seating from twelve to twenty people, and
> 
> gratuitously supplied with numerous bottles of red wine.
> Portly monks, with bald crowns and dressed in long,
> brown robes and girdles, moved in and out, their sandals
> clicking on the stone floor.
> After our hot tea, augmented by a bottle of the wine,
> had given us renewed life, we were approached by a
> guide, who offered to show us all the sights, furnish
> carriages, pay bakshish, and all incidental expenses dur
> ing our stay, for the modest sum of six hundred piastres
> (twenty-four dollars), which he claimed was the regular
> charge. As this seemed very reasonable we closed the
> deal; but as a cab was only furnished on two occasions
> (once on a trip to Bethlehem and once to the Mt. of
> Olives), while the remainder of the time was trudged
> on foot through the narrow lanes of the city, we dis
> 
> covered that the gentleman with the red tarbush, other
> wise Joseph, had made a very good bargain, and half
> that price would have been about the proper charge.
> During the dinner hour the large refectory was filled
> with soldiers, monks, tourists and pilgrims, and the bare
> 
> [127]
> A Modern       Pilgrimage
> 
> walls echoed with the hum and chatter of all kinds and
> classes of people,
> conversing in all languages.
> Back of me sat two friars from Argentine, South
> America, Spanish Roman Catholics, who had been fellow
> passengers across the Mediterranean, and who had also
> bobbed up at the same hotel in Tiberias. In front was
> a long table entirely occupied by English officers, while
> near by was an attractive young lady who, I afterwards
> 
> learned, was a French professoress from Alexandria,
> Egypt. Scattered about the room were the usual types
> of tourists.
> After dinner     we   strolled out    to    see   what     Jerusalem
> looked like by                 any other kind of light,
> gas, electric   or
> 
> but found there was nothing on tap but moonlight. The
> shops      closed and the streets dark and deserted.
> were
> 
> Someone suggested the cinema, but we found there were
> two of       one inside the walls, the other in the
> them,
> only
> The latter   happened to be            the    only       one
> West End.
> like   "Ten
> in operation, and was showing something
> was not the name
> Nights in a Bar-room," only that
> with about
> of it; they were just then struggling along
> The entrance  to this  theatre is
> the fifteenth episode.
> around   and
> through a livery stable, and after poking
> decided we didn't want
> failing to see the front door,
> we
> 
> to see a show anyway, and
> returned to our Hotellerie,
> time scheduled for its
> which we reached long before the
> closing.                                                                ,     ,
> 
> After   our   return came the     amusing part of the day s
> Mr. B, who        was       not    very enthusiastic
> experiences.
> stuff," had insisted         on    having a
> about "this monastic
> 
> [128]
> In Jerusalem
> 
> fire in his room, and when        reached his door, we
> we
> 
> found that someone had left there a rickety old oil stove,
> probably handed       down from the  Jebusites, which was
> strong   on   odors   but   weak   onheat-giving qualities.
> Without a fire the room was almost freezing, and with
> the stove going we were nearly choked by the fumes.
> So, with firing it up, putting it out, airing the room,
> relighting it and beginning the performance all over
> again, we put in a busy evening.
> Finally, leaving him to figure out which was the lesser
> of the two evils, we retired to our own unheated cell
> and turned in, our imagination at least warmed by the
> thought that we were sleeping somewhere near the spot
> where Titus had encamped on the night before he en
> tered Jerusalem, in 70 A.D., at which time he drove out
> all the inhabitants and left not one stone on top o1 the
> other, excepting only the tower of David, which he used
> as   garrison for his soldiers, and left as an object les
> a
> 
> son to posterity, to show how mighty a city the Roman
> 
> valor had subdued.
> 
> [ 129 ]
> XVI
> 
> Jerusalem Continued
> 
> On the following morning, Joseph appeared at the appointed
> time to conduct us around the Capital of Israel ; but without
> carriages, as he explained that this morning we were to go
> on   foot.
> So we proceeded first to New Calvary and the Garden Tomb
> (which has been already described).          Passing through the
> Christian quarter and finally turning into the Old Street of
> Palms, we came to a stone-paved court in front of the Holy
> Sepulchre. This place is so well known, having been pictured
> and described so many times, it would seem superfluous to go
> into great detail. The edifice, which has no claim to architec
> tural beauty, is an accumulation of buildings built about 300
> A. D. by the Empress Helena, the mother of the first Christian
> Emperor, Constantine.    When you have entered and looked
> around, you feel that it is not a church at all, but rather a
> sacred Exposition Building, filled with chapels, altars, shrines,
> hills, caves, etc., commemorating all the events mentioned in
> the Bible that could by any possibility have taken place at or
> near   Jerusalem.
> Among the many places     shown   are    thefollowing: The
> Sepulchre of Christ; the summit of Mt.        Calvary; the places
> where Christ was scourged, crowned With thorns, and anointed
> for burial; the point where the true Cross was found; the
> place where Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene; the spot
> where the Centurion stood during the crucifixion, and (the
> 
> [130]
> Jerusalem Continued
> 
> most ancient feature of all) the grave of Adam !   This is quite
> 
> a remarkable collection of relics to be
> found in one building.
> entered was the Stone of
> The first thing pointed out as  we
> 
> Unction, where the body of the Saviour was laid for anointing
> the
> when taken down from the Cross. This is not exactly
> ruins
> real stone (which is perhaps buried somewhere in the
> placed here  in  1818, since
> underneath), but is another   stone
> 
> which time it has been kissed by thousands  of pilgrims.
> A few steps further on is a stone enclosed by a railing.
> either
> This is supposed to mark the spot where Mary stood,
> while the body of Jesus was being anointed,  or else while
> 
> she was watching the tomb.
> the
> Continuing a few steps we entered the Rotunda, in
> center of which stands the Holy Sepulchre, or what has been
> 
> considered as such for several centuries. The sarcophagus
> lies in a srriall chapel built of Santa Croce marble, which you
> can enter, by stooping, through a small doorway
> about five
> feet high. The space inside measures about six by seven feet,
> but nearly twenty square feet of this is occupied by the marble
> Outside stand
> sarcophagus, which is shown as the Tomb.
> six massive candlesticks, and overhead are festoons of lamps
> in bizarre and Oriental shapes, the whole setting having an
> almost theatrical effect that is far from pleasing, and much
> less impressive than a simple and more dignified treatment.
> In a vestibule to the east, called the Angel's Chapel, is part
> of the stone which the angels are supposed to have rolled from
> the door of the tomb.
> Next we visited the Chapel of the Syrians, beside which is
> a   rocky grotto containing several tombs. Lighting our candles
> we  entered and were shown the tombs of Nicodemus and
> Joseph of Arimathea.
> [131]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> Returning to the Rotunda, we passed around to the north
> of the Sepulchre into the Latin vestibule, which is paved with
> marble slabs radiating from a central stone marking the spot
> where Mary Magdalene stood when Jesus said to her
> "Woman, why weepest thou?"
> Ascending a few steps we entered the Latin's Chapel of the
> after His
> Apparition, where the Lord appeared to Mary
> resurrection. As our visit happened to be on Wednesday of
> the Scourging. This
> Holy Week, we saw here the Column of
> is said to be a piece of the column to which  Christ was bound
> on this
> when scourged by order of Pilate, and is only exhibited
> one day of the year.
> shown the
> Passing along to the Greek section,
> we   were
> 
> of Christ, where He was said to have been
> incarcerated
> Prison
> prior to the crucifixion, and
> near   by the Chapel of the Division
> of the Vestments.
> and entered the Ar
> We now descended about thirty steps
> niche in the low wall
> menian Chapel of St Helena to view
> a
> 
> were excavating for the
> where Queen Helena sat while they
> one happened to remember or
> mention
> true cross, although no
> after the event.  In this room
> it until one hundred years
> or so
> and  the
> to the penitent thief, Dismas,
> are two altars, one
> 
> other to Queen Helena.
> we reached the Chapel
> Descending about a dozen steps more,
> and  were  shown three holes
> of the Finding of the Cross,
> mark the location where they were
> chiseled in the ceiling to
> the calendar "The Invention of the
> found. This is called in
> 
> CritSis interesting   to note that this chapel is owned jointly,
> the right and the Latins the left
> side.
> the Greeks claiming
> 
> [132]
> Jerusalem Continued
> 
> We now reclimbed the forty odd steps and passed into the
> Greek church, which is much larger and more gorgeously deco
> rated than any of the others.   In the center is a short column
> marking the center of the earth, and on the ceiling are some
> disfigured frescoes that date back to the twelfth century.
> Ascending another narrow flight of steps we arrived in
> Calvary, about fifteen feet above the main floor of the Sepul
> chre. At the end of this chapel is an altar, under which are
> holes or sockets, which are pointed out as the location of the
> three crosses, and anyone wishing to do so, is allowed to put
> his hands in these sockets. Near the altar is a long brass plate
> covering a Rent in the Rock (which has been stained red),
> and is said to have been made by the earthquake at the time
> of the crucifixion. Through this rent the blood of the Saviour
> was supposed to have trickled down on the Tomb of Adam,
> 
> located directly underneath; the idea being that "the blood of
> the atonement   was   destined to fall on the head of the first
> transgressor"   all of which would     seem   more   poetic than
> probable !
> In order not to overlook anything of interest to the pilgrim
> the tomb of Melchizedek has been located in another chapel,
> and near it the tombs of Godfrey de Bouillon and Baldwin I,
> although these were desecrated by the Saracens over six hun
> dred years ago and totally destroyed by the fire of 1808 A. D.
> All these wonderful exhibits gathered under one aggrega
> tion of roofs, are the joint property of the Greeks, Roman
> Catholics, Armenians, Syrians, Abyssinians and Copts. Al
> though each nationality, at its alloted time, takes its turn in
> making processions to the holy places and worshipping at the
> sacred shrines, each sect has selected certain chapels and sta-
> 
> [133]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> tions at which it worships, simply passing by or ignoring the
> others.   The Rotunda itself is common to all the sects, but the
> rest is divided and exclusively reserved.    Prior to the English
> occupation,    a Turkish   guard  constantly on hand to see that
> was
> 
> none of the sects encroached on the rights of the others, or
> 
> overstayed the time alloted to them.
> Such, in brief, was our visit to this Holy Place, which has
> been an object of great interest for many centuries and among
> all nations.     Turk, Infidel, Crusader   thousands of lives have
> been cheerfully      given, and rivers of blood have been shed,
> to have and to hold this very place.
> In pondering over all this and calling to mind the jealousy
> and  deadlyhatred of the different peoples now in possession
> of the premises, we were forcibly reminded of the words of
> Abdul Baha: "Religion must be the cause of fellowship and
> love. If          be the cause of enmity and rancor, if it
> religion
> should prove the cause of alienating men, then assuredly
> non-
> 
> religion would be better."
> the dream of
> So, without touching on the Holy Fire,
> traditions
> Helena or the many other ancient and interesting
> will wander    on
> that hover about the Holy Sepulchre,
> we
> 
> at least,  we  found
> through the Bazaars, which, in
> one respect
> 
> from any  we   had  seen.  They were compara
> very different
> the pervasive odors of those m
> tively clean, and free from
> This was quite a surprise,
> Cairo and elsewhere in the Orient.
> were formerly noted
> for their
> as the bazaars of Jerusalem
> were
> the streets in some places
> filth and corruption, and
> are clean
> now the booths generally
> almost impassable. But                                  bake shops
> Christian quarter, where   the
> especially those in the
> and candy stores were spotless.
> 
> [134]
> Jerusalem Continued
> 
> Under English rule, these rocky lanes (which are called
> streets), are swept regularly and evidences of a general house-
> cleaning are here and there apparent. But in the Jewish
> quarter and among the Moslems it will require some education
> and perhaps a generation before they are permanently weaned
> away from their accustomed ways.
> As Jerusalem has always been thought of merely as a place
> of  religious pilgrimage, many other interesting and remark
> able things appear never to have received the attention they
> deserve.    One of these, which interested me particularly, was
> the massive stone work.      While the Copts have captured the
> praise   and admiration of the world for their   pyramids, the
> monuments of Ghizeh are "easy picking" compared with the
> 
> heavier work performed by the stone masons of Israel, where,
> in a quarry in northern Palestine, a huge rock has been dis
> covered that measures sixty-eight feet long, fourteen feet high
> and fourteen feet broad, and is estimated to weigh nearly
> twelve hundred tons.
> 
> Owing to a sudden strike, evasion, or perhaps some change
> in the building ordinances, this immense stone was abandoned
> 1700 years ago, and is still to be seen in the quarry.
> While the blocks found at Jerusalem do not measure up to
> this giant, one stone in the Wailing Place measures twenty-
> four feet long by seven feet high and rests nearly eighty feet
> above the original surface of the ground. In the Haram wall
> is another thirty-eight feet long, weighing at least eighty tons.
> In the same wall is a course of masonry six feet high, and at
> the corner of the Haram inclosure is a huge stone that weighs
> at least one hundred tons.
> As these walls now show a height of seventy feet and extend
> 
> [ 135 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> eighty feet below the present grade, it means that some of the
> immense stones were possibly elevated one hundred and fifty
> feet, which would be no small task even in these days of power
> ful machinery. It would be interesting to know whether these
> weighty blocks we're hoisted perpendicularly and placed in
> position, or were handled in the same manner as they were at
> the pyramids.
> The point I wish to emphasize now is that from the children
> of Israel sprang not only, the greatest prophets, poets, law
> givers and a religion that has encircled the entire globe, chang
> modern times; but
> ing the history as well as the calendar of
> in addition to these, great stone-workers. From an engineer
> deserve a greater con
> ing standpoint, the walls of Jerusalem
> sideration than they have heretofore received.
> 
> [136]
> XVII
> 
> Mosque of Omar and the Via Dolorosa
> In the cool, crisp air of the following morning, we started
> out to visit the famous shrine of the Moslems,    usually called
> the Mosque of Omar, not the Omar whom Fitzgerald has so
> widely introduced.
> Since the English occupation this has become a simple
> matter, but prior to this, it was necessary to secure a pass,
> employ a Kawas from the consulate of the country to which
> the traveler belonged, and be accompanied by a Turkish
> soldier.   These formalities have all been done away with, and
> all you do now is let the attendants slip some loose canvas slip
> pers over your shoes and walk in.
> The site of this structure is that of the Temple designed by
> King  David and built by Solomon, before which stood the two
> mystic pillars, "thirty and five cubits high," which were called
> Joachin and Boaz. This wonderful building was burned down
> and rebuilt ; others were also built and destroyed, until finally
> in 688 A. D., the Moslem,s took possession of the site and built
> the Dome of the Rock. Many traditions are current regarding
> this Sacred Rock, which is located on Mt. Moriah, and is at
> least one spot in Jerusalem of whose authenticity there can
> be no doubt.    Among the Jews it has always been revered as
> the spot where Melchizedek offered sacrifice, where Abraham
> brought  his son Isaac as an offering, where the Ark of the
> Covenant stood, and where Jacob's Ladder rested.
> The Moslems believe it was from this rock that Mahomed's
> 
> [137]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> steed sprang when it carried the Prophet into heaven   while
> both Moslems and Jews regarded it as the Foundation-stone of
> the world.  The Mosque, or Shrine, stands on a slight terrace
> in the center of an open area of thirty-five acres, called the
> Haram inclosure.     The   building is octagonal in shape and
> has four doors opening to the four cardinal points ; the whole
> exterior is covered with soft, dull-blue porcelain tiles, and the
> frieze, also of tiles, is ornamented with passages in Arabic
> from the Koran.    Leading to the platform or terrace are
> wide steps, and four gates or arcades, facing to the north,
> south, east and west.   In the interior the arches are decorated
> with glass mosaics, also passages from the Koran in Arabic.
> The Rock is immediately beneath the dome, and is inclosed
> by a fine grille of French hammered iron work dating from
> the twelfth century.     Inside the grille-work hang curtains,
> 
> partially concealing the irregular Rock, which stands from one
> to nearly five feet above  the floor. This Rock, on which once
> rested the Holy of Holies, is a bare, rugged unhewn rock
> about sixty feet long by forty-five feet wide, which looks as
> if it had received hard usage, and in its present condition shows
> had
> little resemblance to what it was in the days when Onan
> here his threshing-floor.
> in the
> After viewing the footprint of Mahonled, which
> was shown as the footprint of Christ,
> and
> twelfth century
> of the Angel
> noting the deep, highly-polished finger-prints
> the  Rock  from fol
> Gabriel, whose prompt action prevented
> and making     sure  that the
> lowing the Prophet into heaven,
> at the north end, (the
> three and a half nails were still in situ
> there   were nineteen nails, of
> legend being that originally
> all but three and a half,
> which the Devil has already extracted
> 
> [138]
> Mosque of Omar and the Via Dolorosa
> 
> and when the last one disappears, the end of the world will
> come) ; after pausing at the praying places of Abraham,
> David, Solomon and Mahomed, and encircling the celebrated
> Rock, walking on rare carpets of rich, Oriental pattern and
> of great price, we passed out, shedding our canvas slippers at
> the door.
> At some distance from the     Mosque is a marble fountain
> called El Kas, or The Cup, near which we halted, waiting for
> Joseph, who had remained behind to dicker with the attend
> ants. Having nothing else to do, I foolishly lighted my pipe,
> whereupon guards rushed up from several directions, with
> wild gestures and wilder exckntations, until Joseph hurried
> to my rescue and explained that I was still on holy ground.
> So (rather than go to jail), I pocketed my offending pipe,
> and proceeded to the Mosque of El Aksa originally the
> magnificent Basilica founded by the Emperor Justinian in
> honor of the Virgin about fourteen hundred years ago, but
> a few centuries later appropriated by the Moslems, who con
> 
> verted it into a mosque.
> Here we were shown the tomb of the sons of Aaron; the
> last resting place of the murderers of Thomas a' Becket, and
> the beautiful pulpit of Saladin, made of the cedar of Lebanon
> and inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl. Near the pulpit
> is the praying place of Moses, while back of the pulpit is a
> stone said to contain a   footprint of Christ; close by are two
> pillars,so near  together that only a very slender person could
> pass between  them.    In former times, every pilgrim was sup
> 
> posed to try it, as those who succeeded were sure of a place
> in heaven; but for those who failed the case was considered
> doubtful. Owing to the fact that some years ago a portly
> 
> [139]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> pilgrim, in trying to squeeze through, got wedged and expired
> on the spot, stanchions were placed between them, and we
> 
> were obliged to look further, and for some other test, in
> 
> order to settle the important question of our eternal futures.
> Underneath this portion of the inclosure are located Solo
> mon's stables, and here he had "forty thousand stalls of horses
> for his chariots"; but as this structure only dates back to
> Roman times, it is probably the stables of the Knights
> Templars.
> From this point a wonderful view is obtained. Below is the
> Valley of Jehoshaphat, a mass of graves and memorial stones,
> as it is the wish of all devout Jews to be buried here, where
> 
> the Messiah is to come "and sit to judge all the heathen round
> about." To the south lies the Village of Siloam, the Virgin's
> Fountain and the Pool ; across the valley is the Mt. of Olives,
> and at its foot, on the edge of the valley of the Kedron
> (whose dry bed shows that the Brook is now only a temporary
> affair), a small walled-in garden is seen, containing a few
> cypress and olive trees, the reputed
> Garden of the Gethsem
> ane. A little to the left of the Garden is the road to Bethany,
> and winding over the hills still further to the left is the road
> to   Jericho.
> About the center of the east wall of the inclosure stands the
> Golden Gate,         which it is supposed the Saviour entered
> through
> It is now walled up, and there
> Palm Sunday.
> Jerusalem       on
> 
> is a   tradition that when He returns, He will make the trium
> wrest the city from the
> phal entry through this Gate and
> Moslems. In the inclosure,   north  of the Gate, is a small
> Throne of Solomon, where it is said he
> mosque called the
> was found dead.   The character of Solomon, by the way, pre-
> 
> [140]
> Mosque of Omar and the Via Dolorosa
> 
> sents a peculiarstudy, when viewed at close range. Here on
> the spot where we were standing he built the wonderful
> Temple to Jehovah, while just across the valley, and connected
> with it by a great causeway, he erected a temple to Venus on
> what would seem to be well-named, the Mt. of Offense. Here,
> in     view of the Lord's Temple, he kept his seraglio of
> plain
> young and well-selected beauties, with whom he spent
> his time
> when not composing Canticles or issuing words of wisdom.
> In other words, while he said many wise things, he also did
> many vain and foolish ones, and in the end died ingloriously.
> All of which leads one to believe that he spoke from personal
> experience when he casually remarked that "all is vanity and
> vexation of spirit."
> Passing out of the inclosure by the northeast gate, we
> walked by the Pool of Bethesda, now dry and clogged with
> rubbish. Continuing, we reached the Via Dolorosa, called by
> the natives, "The Street of the Serai," which leads from the
> Government House to the Holy Sepulchre.       The Via Dolorosa
> is   a   narrw,   roughly paved street, spanned by several pic
> turesque Roman arches. It is a shock, however, to learn
> that it was not selected or so named until the fourteenth cen
> tury. In this street are located nine of the fourteen Stations
> of the Cross, which are marked by bronze tablets attached to
> the high walls which inclose the street on both sides; the
> other five Stations are within the walls of the Holy Sepulchre
> already described.
> The first Station, the Scala Sancta, or holy steps, we had
> seen in a church at Rome, but the place where they once were
> is pointed out. Near by is the second Station, the place of
> the Binding of the Cross upon the shoulder of Christ.
> 
> [141]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> A few steps further on we came to the Ecce Homo Arch,
> a   partof which extends out over the street, and is said to be
> the spot where Pilate said unto them, "Behold the Man!" At
> the   junctionof this street with the one leading from the
> Damascus Gate is where He is said to have fallen for the first
> time. From this third Station, the visitor, if sufficiently inter
> ested to  complete the course, is shown where the Virgin
> fainted, the place where Simon took the Cross, the house of
> Veronica, which recalls the legend regarding the Holy Hand
> kerchief, the so-called Gate of Judgment, where He fell a
> second time, where He addressed the daughters of Jerusalem
> who accompanied Him, and the ninth Station, which is at the
> door of the Coptic Monastery. While it is claimed that these
> Stations were known to the Roman Catholics in the twelfth
> century, we were unable to find that any of the pilgrinfc of
> that time mentioned them: so that, unless the visitor is en
> dowed with a large amount of what is distinguished as "reli
> in
> gious" faith, a walk down this little street leaves his mind
> anything but a calm and satisfied condition.
> when we
> Many times since this cool morning in March,
> toiled over this Stony Way, the words of Abdul Baha have
> come to my mind: "No man should blindly
> follow his an
> 
> cestors and forefathers. Nay,  each must see  with his own
> and investigate truth in order that
> eyes, hear with his own ears,
> he may find the Truth." But in doing so, what a difference
> it makes in the verdict!
> 
> [142]
> XVIII
> 
> A Day at Bethlehem
> 
> After several days of tramping over the narrow, stony
> streets, looking at doubtful antiquities, we grew some
> what weary, and were relieved when Joseph appeared
> and announced that the     carriage was waiting outside.
> Now,    we  thought, our opportunity had come to get
> out and see something real, some of the pictures we
> had formed of life in the Holy Land. We even had a
> vague hope that our eyes might somewhere rest on a
> replica of "the solitary gleaner," who once "stood in tears
> amid the alien corn"; but who at the suggestion of her
> mother-in-law kept only one eye on the corn and the
> other on the aged but susceptible Boaz, who we are told
> finally succumbed, and gladdened "the sad heart of
> Ruth."
> But after   journeying a short distance, we discovered
> that it   was   out of season for any kindof gleaning, so
> we began looking about for some modern Rebekah at a
> 
> well, waiting to say, "Drink, and I will draw- water for
> thy camels also." But this, too, seemed out of fashion,
> since a certain Canadian engineer at Kantara, with the
> aid of a filtering plant and a twelve-inch pipe line, was
> pumping unheard-of quantities of the "sweet waters of
> the Nile" into a large reservoir inside the walls of the
> ancient city.
> Regarding this event, which we have already men-
> 
> [143]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> tioned, we heard another version of a Turkish tradition,
> prophesying that the Turk would remain master of
> Jerusalem "until the waters of the Nile flowed into the
> Holy City." To their minds, this was evidence that they
> would remain there indefinitely.     But General Allenby,
> 
> basing his efforts "on the justice of our cause and faith
> in the sustaining help of the Almighty," had brought
> about this unexpected event, and the surprised Turk
> had no other alternative but to evacuate the stronghold.
> Although fulfilling one prophecy, General Allenby side
> stepped another by refusing to allow them to remove the
> masonry which blocked up the Golden Gate ("until
> the
> Deliverer should appear"), but quietly entered the city
> through the Jaffa entrance (prepared a few years pre
> viously for the German Emperor), and without any pomp
> or flaunting of foreign flags in the faces of the inhab
> 
> itants of the "occupied territory."
> How expert the English are in these matters, and how
> carefully they refrain from inflaming the hearts of the
> natives is also shown by the fact that at the present
> time the flag of the conqueror is seen nowhere, except
> over the residence of Governor, and that is on the eastern
> side of the Mt. of Olives, quite a distance outside and
> out of sight  of thecity. By a strange irony of fate, the
> Governor has taken up his abode in what
> was       formerly
> the Empress Auguste Viktoria Sanatorium, inaugurated
> Prince in 1910. It is a large and
> by the German Crown
> of stone buildings, surrounded
> substantial looking group
> which incloses a well-kept garden
> by a high stone wall,
> with trees and flow-
> of several acres, liberally supplied
> 
> [144]
> A    Day at Bethlehem
> 
> ers. From the tower of the main building there is a
> wonderful view: on one side is the Dead Sea (nearly
> thirteen hundred feet below the         level), and on the
> sea
> 
> other side, the Holy City (about twenty-five hundred
> feet above sea level) ; to the north the mountains stretch
> away towards Bethany and Jericho;
> while to the south
> lies the town of Bethlehem,          a   panorama that takes in
> many   of    the    most    important    places in the religious
> history of the world.
> Before leaving the subject of water supply, we might
> add that what is now conveyed by the daughters of
> Israel and their neighbors is still carried on their heads,
> in the ancient fashion, but in five-gallon tin cans the
> 
> picturesque being sacrificed for the modern and more
> practical containers dispensed by the Standard Oil Co.
> But, as I started to say at the beginning of this chap
> ter, our guide announced that our carriage was waiting,
> and that     we    would   now   visit the little town of Bethle
> hem    the   mostwidely-known town of its size in the
> world! Leaving the city by the Jaffa entrance, we pro
> ceeded down the Valley of Hinnom along the familiar
> road leading to the railroad station, but continuing due
> south, past the Hill of Evil Counsel, where Caiaphas
> the High Priest had his summer residence and bribed
> Judas to betray his Master, and passing the traditional
> tree on which Judas later hanged himself.    We continued
> 
> along the glaring   white  road  where  Mary and Joseph
> traveled when, failing to find lodgings at Jerusalem, they
> continued on to Bethlehem.
> Farther along, by the side of the road, is the Well of
> 
> [145]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> the   Magi, where the Wise Men paused, and seeing the
> reflection of the Star in the well, followed it until it
> stood over where the young Child was.
> A short distance beyond we paused to visit the tomb of
> Rachel, a modern structure supposed to stand somewhere
> near where the ancient tomb was. The interior bears some
> resemblance to a hotel register, as the white walls are
> completely covered with names, scribbled everywhere
> within reach of the scribbling public, so that either
> step-ladders will have to be provided for next season or
> the walls given a new coast of whitewash.
> Finally we reached Bethlehem, a town of about eight
> thousand inhabitants, situated on a long hill six miles
> from Jerusalem. It presents a rather picturesque appear
> ance,   as   the hill is terraced and well covered with vines,
> fig and olive trees.  The streets are generally too nar
> row  for vehicles to pass each other, and are steep and
> slippery. While they reminded us somewhat of the
> Canals of Venice, navigation is more difficult here, as
> traffic can only pass in one direction at a time, and you
> have to take your turn along with the droves of sheep
> and camels and other vehicles. The houses are square,
> solidly built of stone, with cupolas and balconies, form
> ing  a pleasing   picture, with the groves and terraced
> gardens below them.
> The    inhabitants   of   Bethlehem   are    supposed   to    be
> 
> celebrated for their beauty and turbulence, but              as    our
> 
> short visit did not permit      us   to see any   shining examples
> of either class,    we    cannot vouch for either the        one    or
> 
> the other.
> 
> [146]
> A    Day at Bethlehem
> 
> to be   the
> The    principal industry of the town seems
> manufacture     and       sale    of    souvenirs   in   the   shape of
> made
> rosaries, crucifixes, cigar holders, etc., which
> are
> 
> This
> of olive wood, Dead Sea stone and mother-of-pearl.
> business is carried on very earnestly and   with   great
> persistence, and strangers are besieged by shopkeepers
> who follow them with warnings not to buy at the other
> man's store and be robbed, but to come into their store
> here
> where the job would be done properly, the prices
> being at least double those in Jerusalem.
> The center of interest, however, is in the huge, fortress
> of the
> like building or buildings at the eastern edge
> is said to be
> village  the Church of the Nativity, which
> in the
> the oldest monument of Christian architecture
> in the year
> world, having been erected by Constantine
> 330 A. D. The roof was   renewed by King  Edward  IV,
> and is of                  oak.        Adjoining are     three convents
> English
> who
> belonging to the Romans, Greeks and Armenians,
> are joint-owners of the church.
> 
> The Grotto of the Nativity, which is a cave in the
> rock twenty feet below the main floor, is reached by two
> feet
> staircases, and is thirty-three feet long by eleven
> and
> wide. The walls are covered with Italian marble,
> the little room is profusely decorated with lamps, figures
> end of
> of saints and embroidery. In a recess at the east
> indicates  the
> the grotto, a silver star on the pavement
> where        was born, and which the pilgrims who
> spot          Jesus
> desire to do so may crawl to and kiss.      In the upper
> the star, fifteen  silver lamps
> part of the shrine, above
> are       continually burning six of them belonging to
> kept
> 
> [147]
> A Modern     Pilgrimage
> 
> the Greeks, four to the Romans and five to the Arme
> nians. In another recess is the Chapel of the Manger,
> which the Roman Catholics claim is the             place   of dis
> covery of the wooden manger, now shown at one of
> their churches in Rome. Here is also shown the tomb
> of St.    Jerome, who spent more than thirty years of his
> life in a cell in this church and died there.
> A short distance south of the church is another low
> cave or    grotto, called the Milk Grotto, where it is claimed
> the Holy Family was kept in seclusion before their flight
> into Egypt, and during which time a drop of the Virgin's
> milk accidentally fell      on    the floor and turned the whole
> cave     white.
> In walking about the church we noticed an occasional
> armed guard sitting behind a pillar or in some shady
> corner, for       an   immense treasure of   gold and silver and
> jewels is contained in the lamps and decorations of the
> various altars.   As we were leaving the Grotto where
> Christ was born, our curiosity was aroused by a tri
> floor.
> angular-shaped carpet and diverging lines on the
> It was explained that     these  were   merely  to  show   the
> of the  church.  As  this
> property lines of the joint-owners
> failed to  fully enlighten   our  ignorant   minds, it was
> further explained that in  the past this place had been the
> scene                                infrequent blood
> of much friction, strife and not
> were finally laid
> shed ;   that this carpet and the lines
> on the rights
> down so that one sect would not encroach
> of the other, and if they now
> crossed the line even so
> risk of their lives!
> much as an inch, they did so at the
> To     our             minds this seemed a peculiar
> untheological
> 
> [148]
> A    Day at Bethlehem
> 
> condition to exist   at   the   birthplace of Him who came
> to proclaim "Peace on Earth and Good Will unto Men,"
> and our thoughts reverted to what Abdul Baha had said
> in speaking of the new Bahai Temple at Chicago: "The
> and edifices for adoration
> purpose of places of worship
> is simply that of unity, in order that various nations,
> divergent races, varying souls may gather there, and
> among them    amity, love and accord      may be realized."
> 
> [149]
> XIX
> 
> From the Mount of Olives to Mount Zion
> 
> There are several ways of  going to the Mount of Olives
> from the city, but as we were to visit some other places en
> route, we took the roundabout way, passing along the north
> wall until   we   reached the Damascus Gate, where the road
> branches in three directions.
> Taking the way to Nablus (the ancient city of Shechem and
> once the capital of Palestine), we passed by the new German
> 
> Hospice of St. Paul's and behind it the new Calvary and
> Garden Tomb. Near by is the large church of St. Stephens,
> recently built by the French, and a little further on the English
> school and church of St. George, where the residence of the
> English Bishop is located.
> Stopping here we visited what has long been known as the
> Tombs of the Kings. Being unable to learn exactly what
> to look the matter
> kings had ever rested there, I took the pains
> up, and found    that  instead of kings, they must have meant
> of Queen  Helena   of Adiabene is promi
> queens, as the name
> that she died in the
> nently mentioned, the inference being
> in this very
> first century, and was buried somewhere, possibly
> place ! A sarcophagus bearing
> the name   of  Queen Sarah was
> also found there.
> Considering that    none   of the   kings have introduced any
> it would  seem that the queens
> evidence at all on their side,
> so far.
> have a little the best of the argument
> After viewing the interior
> of these rock-hewn  tombs, which
> 
> [150]
> From the Mount          of Olives to Mount Zion
> 
> the upper
> are veryinteresting, we renewed our journey along
> barren         of hills on
> Kedron valley and crossed a low,            range
> after
> which is located the English cemetery, filled with
> row
> 
> row of white crosses, marking the graves
> of the soldiers
> 
> who fell in the late war.
> where
> Gradually we ascended the ridge of Mount Scopus,
> which
> in ancient times Alexander the Great encamped;     over
> 
> "the             come down like a wolf on the fold,"
> and from
> Assyrians
> From here
> which various other despoilers invaded the city.
> is perhaps   one of the best views to be had of
> the city and
> 
> of the Jordan valley and the Dead Sea.
> the summit
> Finally we reached a small, modern village on
> of Olivet, and left our carry-all to wait for us  at the foot of
> The principal object of interest    is  the  Place of
> the hill.
> Ascension.   A    large building, belonging to the Moslems,
> stands on the site which from the fourth century has been
> shown as the place from which Christ ascended into heaven.
> In the center of a      courtyard is a small Chapel, called
> large
> the Chapel of Ascension, -containing a rock with a footprint,
> shown as the footprint of Christ.
> South of this building is the spot where, it is said, He taught
> had a
> the Disciples to pray, and here a French princess has
> chapel erected, called the Pater Noster, in the court of which
> are thirty-five panels, each containing
> the Lord's Prayer writ
> 
> ten in a different language.     Her mausoleum of white marble
> 
> is also shown here.Further north, surrounded by a small pine
> and Priest's House, and near by
> grove, is a Russian Chapel
> from which
> the Russian Tower, with a spiral staircase inside,
> obtained of   the whole   surrounding
> an extensive view may be
> 
> country.   Near the corner of the Chapel is a round rock.
> 
> [151]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> protruding about a foot and a half above the ground, and
> inclosed by an iron railing. This is pointed out as the spot
> where Jesus is said to have often rested on his way to
> Bethany. At the edge of the bluff, we looked down nearly
> five thousand feet below into the Dead Sea, fifteen miles away.
> This remarkable body of water called by the Arabs, Bohr Lut
> (Lot's Sea), is thirty-six miles long by over nine miles wide,
> and covers an area of over four hundred square miles. Its
> depth varies from thirteen to thirteen hundred feet, but with a
> mean or  average depth of one thousand and eighty feet. All
> the old notions that no bird could fly over it, and that no per
> son   could breathe its poisonous exhalations, as well as many
> other extravagant statements, have been long since exploded ;
> but it is still the most depressed sheet of water in the world,
> as it lies thirteen hundred feet below the level of the Mediter
> ranean.     It is estimated that six million tons of water empty
> into it daily, and its only outlet is by evaporation, so that one
> find its climate torrid. On both sides
> may reasonably expect to
> of the sea are  precipitous  mountains rising from the water's
> al
> edge, and near the southern end is a large peak consisting
> salt. The   water is strongly  im
> most entirely of pure rock
> and
> pregnated with the chlorides of sodium, potassium          mag
> is    great that a person can
> nesium; while its specific gravity    so
> 
> as on a couch.
> lie on the surface of the water almost
> the sea and the point
> On a hillside, about half way between
> little Moslem village, once
> where we stood, lies a wretched
> little hamlet is, however,
> called Bethany. This dirty, sleepy
> wide awake enough     to invite the  stranger to a place called
> another place said to be the house
> the Tomb of Lazarus, and
> lived.
> where Mary and Martha
> 
> [ 152 ]
> From the Mount of Olives to Mount Zion
> 
> After gazing at the scene for many long minutes, we walked
> down the steep and       rocky white road that leads to the foot
> of the mountain, where, since the fourth century, the Garden
> of the Gethsemane has been located.
> Soon we reached the Tomb of Absalom, which is filled to
> overflowing with small stones which the devout Jews have
> heaped on what has been localized as the grave of David's
> ungrateful son. From this point we continued on down the
> valley to another spot which has been made familiar to every
> one by Bishop Heber's classic, but misleading hymn:
> 
> "By cool Siloam's shady rill
> How sweet the lily grows, etc."
> 
> We had often         during our trip hummed these         well-known
> words, and I had fully decided that, when we reached that
> place,   the   guide would    be   blindfolded,   or
> sand-bagged   if
> necessary, while one or more of those wonderful lilies were
> added to our collection of floral souvenirs. But when we
> reached the "shady rill" which would seem to be another
> name     for the Virgin's Fountain     it was very evident that the
> guide    was in no   danger of violence at our hands, as there were
> no lilies or any other    species of flowers to be seen in any direc
> tion as far as the eye could reach, and while once it might
> have been very fair, it now looked like an ideal "habitation for
> dragons and a court for owls," and a place where the stayr
> could "call to his fellow," and feel perfectly at home about it.
> Our next visit was to the modern Mount Zion, where three
> points of interest are located. First, we called at the impos
> ing edifice recently dedicated by the German Emperor, and
> 
> [153]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> named the Church of the Dormition of the Virgin.        This name
> is based on a belief that some extraordinary mystery about
> the death of the Virgin is implied in the Book of the
> Apocalypse, where it is stated that "to the woman were given
> two wings of an eagle." We continued on to the Coenaculum
> and the Tomb of David, touched upon in a previous chapter.
> Being unable to penetrate the room supposed to be the scene
> of the Last Supper as it was some forty feet below the one
> we had entered, and was at present occupied by some Moslem's
> 
> harem we proceeded to the Palace of Caiaphas, the High
> Priest.   This place has also been filled in until the present floor
> level of the court is well up toward the top of the first floor
> arches. The courtyard is paved with stone slabs, marking the
> ecclesiastical dignitaries.
> graves of priests, bishops and other
> This is said also to be the place where Peter stood when he
> denied the Lord, and a small pillar is shown whereon the cock
> stood when he crew to warn him. Below, on the opposite
> slope of the  hill,is Aceldama, or the Potter's Field, which is
> sometimes claimed to be the one which the chief priests bought
> with the              of silver which Judas returned to them
> thirty pieces
> before he went and hanged himself.
> 
> [154]
> XX
> 
> Last Days in Jerusalem
> 
> In summing up our impressions of Jerusalem, we were
> surprised.        We had looked at    so   much, and had   seen
> 
> so    little.   In   trying to account for this we blamed our
> lack of proper theological training, and the absence of
> that necessary faith that would have enabled us to be
> thrilled at everything we were shown, and to believe all
> we     were      Notwithstanding this handicap we had
> told.
> thoroughly enjoyed our visit, and would gladly welcome
> another and longer stay in this city of so many varied
> and peculiar attractions.
> While reviewing and attempting to fix in our minds
> the events of the last few days in the Holy City, our
> thoughts naturally reverted to Haifa, Acca and Tiberias,
> where we had just seen another religion in the making,
> and we were not slow in realizing how fortunate we had
> been to make our trip at this time, to meet and talk
> with the great leader of this movement, and to visit
> the scenes in which he was actually living. On the Sea
> of  Galilee, not far from the little hamlets where Jesus
> spent the greater part of His life, we had met and talked
> with another man, who, since his boyhood, has been
> called "the Master"; who was living the Christ-life, and
> had formulated a new set of sane and practical rules for
> making the world better for those who are now living
> in it.     We had seen how these teachings had, in less than
> 
> [155]
> A Modem   Pilgrimage
> 
> half a century,penetrated to every corner of the globe,
> and persuaded men of every sect to lay aside their petty
> jealousies and work together in a common cause the
> betterment of the world today! In the midst of the in
> sincerity and superstitions that hover around the Holy
> Places in Jerusalem, it was refreshing to turn to the
> plain and wholesome ways of the Bahais.
> On the afternoon of our last day in Jerusalem, the
> other members of our party found themselves somewhat
> fatigued and suggested that we all take a good rest;
> but I remarked that it was Good Friday and I intended
> going to services at the Holy Sepulchre.
> The idea seemed all right, but as our guide and ency
> clopedia, Joseph, had completed his contract and been
> dismissed, how was I going to find my way about? I
> assured my fellow-travelers that I had found my way
> in larger cities than Jerusalem.    Anyway the bluff
> worked, and the others   decided that if I was sure I
> could find the way, they would join me.
> So, taking upon myself Joseph's duties, but my own
> hat and mantle, I set off with the party in tow. Just
> passing through the Damascus Gate I noticed
> a
> after
> to a native in a combination
> young lady excitedly talking
> of   French and Arabic.       As   my   heart   was   naturally
> touched at seeing a young and very good-looking young
> the nature of her
> lady in distress, I paused to inquire
> that she
> trouble. She replied in none-too-fluent English
> the       to the Holy Sepul
> had several times inquired      way
> but that none of the natives had apparently ever
> chre,
> even    heard of it !
> 
> [156]
> Last    Days in Jerusalem
> 
> I tried to relieve her      anxiety by telling her that we
> were      on   way there and if she would join us, I had
> our
> 
> no    doubt we would all reach the place, sooner or later.
> At first she rather doubted my ability,             as    I failed to
> look the part of a professional guide,              but    on   being
> assured  by the rest of the party that I knew the way
> perfectly, she decided to take a chance. Her English
> and       my   French   were    equally good   or    bad     but   we
> 
> managed somehow to surmount the barrier of language.
> Having thus cracked the ice of convention, we sauntered
> along through the bazaars. The young lady, I soon
> learned, was not only well educated, and a devout
> Catholic, but was also a professoress of French Litera
> ture in a college at Alexandria, Egypt, and was taking
> 
> advantage of her Easter vacation to visit Jerusalem for
> the first time.
> Fortune seemed to smile          on my efforts as a guide,
> 
> and in due time         we   arrived at the Holy Sepulchre, just
> as    large procession was marching out of the entrance.
> a
> 
> Working our way through the crowd, we entered and
> stood near the Holy Tomb.
> As this was the period allotted to the Franciscans, the
> services were conducted in Latin, but the responses of
> the congregation, which had gathered from all quarters
> of the earth, were made in French, English, Latin and
> other tongues which I was not linguist enough to recog
> nize.    Presently a male choir of about twenty voices
> sang the     chorus, Le Prophete with an effect truly
> magical. Never have I heard a group of men (some of
> them were of middle age and others turning grey) with
> 
> [157]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> such marvelous voices.            Add to this the spiritual associa
> tions which      cling like   a   veritable  atmosphere about the
> place, and the result was             an   experience never to be
> forgotten.
> Viewing this little incident from another angle, it im
> pressed me anew with the strange things that can sud
> denly enter into our lives. If anyone had told me on
> Christmas that on the coming of Good Friday I would
> be conducting a strange French lady from Alexandria,
> Egypt, along the streets of Jerusalem to the Holy
> Sepulchre, I would certainly have thought that individual
> headed for a padded cell, or at least in need of the
> services of a psychiatrist.
> While we were in Tiberias,     the most spectacular
> feature    we   witnessed     torchlight procession on
> was    the
> Mahomed's birthday; but at Jerusalem the great excite
> ment was the arrival of Lord Randolph Churchill.
> 
> Being in the vicinity of the Jaffa Gate about five
> o'clock in the afternoon, I noticed the streets and house
> tops packed with humanity and the policemen unusually
> that
> busy trying to keep the road clear for something
> was about to happen.       Squads of mounted horsemen
> of soldiers       were
> were     dashing around and companies
> down the road toward the railroad station.             I   was
> filing
> unable     make any headway in finding
> to                                         out what
> was
> 
> with either
> going to happen. Not being able to juggle
> Arabic or Yiddish idioms, I put  in the time gazing down
> the street which everybody   else  was  gazing down; but
> as it was               the dinner hour, I decided my
> approaching
> name      was   not   Job, and sauntered        back to the hotel.
> 
> [158]
> Last Days in Jerusalem
> 
> There I saw a man who had seen the Egyptian Gazette,
> and he said it stated that the English Foreign Secretary
> was       due to arrive and that was probably what the crowd
> had collected to           see.   So after   a   hurried dinner      we   all
> went out        again to see the rest of the show.
> Sentries    were   now       stationed about    one     hundred feet
> apart along       both sides of the street.           They seemed to
> be    species of Boy Scouts, dressed in a sort of abbre
> a
> 
> viated  summer uniform that left a portion of their legs
> 
> exposed to the inclement weather as they stood, their
> teeth chattering, holding long poles with streamers on
> the top.        In   the    cold wind      we    found   a   sweater      and
> overcoat       failed to make        us   comfortable,     so   we   walked
> briskly up and down on the lee side of the city wall for
> another hour or so, and still nothing exciting happened.
> How and when the English Secretary ever got into
> Jerusalem, we never learned, being denied the pleasure
> of welcoming him. We were relieved when the Scouts,
> by this time almost petrified with the cold, were called
> in at nine o'clock.  We had the pleasure of seeing the
> Secretary frequently on the boat a few days later.
> The next morning, if our Hotellerie had possessed
> such a thing as a clock, it would have been striking four
> a.  m., when we rolled out, finished our packing and
> started off in the moonlight for the railroad station. In
> the gray dawn we passed by the Tower where the
> Jebusites had taunted David by placing on the wall "the
> blind and the lame," and wound down the hill by the
> Pool of Gihon, which              David, now a successful and pros-
> 
> [159]
> A Modem   Pilgrimage
> 
> perotisking, had made famous by happening to see
> Bethesda bathing there.
> At six o'clock our dingy little train began to move,
> and in a few minutes the City of David passed into the
> realm of recollection.
> 
> [160]
> XXI
> 
> From Jerusalem to Cairo
> 
> In  studying the map of Jerusalem in its early days
> and comparing its topography with that of the present
> time, one is astonished at the changes that have taken
> place there during the last few thousand years. Originally
> the city was built on four hills, and a deep, precipitous
> valley separated the eastern from the western part,
> making two really distinct cities. Believing it only right
> and proper to give every man his just dues, we wish
> before closing the account, to pay our respects to that
> person (or persons) who acted in the capacity of city
> engineer of Jerusalem for the last twenty-five hundred
> or three thousand years.
> From what we could learn, it appears that each time
> the city was captured and destroyed, the ruins were
> thrown into the several valleys with which the   city was
> conveniently provided,  and the   accommodating city en
> gineer simply set up  his transit, if he happened to have
> one, and established a new grade, which was official
> until the next despoiler came along and left some more
> debris.  Then the grade was again raised to meet the
> new condition, and so on until the valleys practically
> 
> disappeared, and the portion of the city within the walls
> became   comparatively level.
> While the city engineer was covering himself with
> glory and the stone masons were doing their good work,
> 
> [161]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> the    architects failed to keep up with the procession,
> and have   produced practically nothing worth while. As
> we looked around on the commonplace buildings, we
> 
> were reminded of the remedy proposed by one of Eng
> 
> land's Prime Ministers, who, in lamenting the lack of
> 
> any beautiful buildings in London, suggested that an
> architect or two be hanged occasionally, on the theory that
> "no profession has ever done its duty until it has fur
> nished its victim," and that "terror has its inspiration,
> and might succeed where competition has failed."
> Just now, however, there is no more demand for an
> architect in Jerusalem than there is for a Methodist
> preacher, as there is no possibility of getting a building
> for new houses.
> permit, although there is a great demand
> But the Moslems, who are still      in  charge of the local
> realize
> government, are playing a little politics. They
> will not
> that every building means new residents who
> be Moslems and enough          new  residents   will  mean a
> 
> the  lid has  been
> change in the city officials, consequently
> on any further con
> clamped down and the door closed
> struction.
> piece of property changes hands- every
> It is true,   a
> 
> out that had
> few hundred years (I had one piece pointed
> it is evident that real
> actually been sold recently), yet
> in   this   climate, and the
> estate  agents do not thrive
> is one, is located in a
> Chamber of Commerce, if there
> sub-cellar and conducted in
> a quiet and unobtrusive
> in Jeru
> manner.         The only real live-wire "boosters"
> souvenir post   cards and
> salem     are   engaged in selling
> 
> [162]
> From Jerusalem to Cairo
> 
> Oriental   curios     most    of    which     have     been
> imported
> from   Germany!
> The Jordan valley from the Sea of Galilee to the
> Dead Sea is only sixty miles long, but the river itself
> is two hundred miles in length, winding back and forth
> across the valley until at times it seems to be running
> 
> uphill; and it falls six hundred feet in the sixty miles.
> It is interesting to know that the only recorded instance
> of greater fall is in our own Sacramento River, which
> falls eight hundred and forty feet, but in a distance of
> four hundred and       fifty miles.
> While the Valley of the Jordan is only a very small
> affair, the soil is deep and has the appearance of being
> very fertile, and seems to be patiently waiting for a real
> steel plow to come along and till its richness, which
> has been  fattening for thousands of years.
> At present the   only inhabitants in the valley are the
> migratory Arabs, who pitch their tents wherever they
> choose, without the formality of a building permit, and
> in a few days or weeks move on to new and fresher
> pastures. The Arab's objection to owning land is two
> fold.  First, he would have to stay in one place; and
> second, he would have to pay taxes, to which he is con
> stitutionally   and    unconditionally opposed.               In   many
> respects his conditions and frame of mind are similar to
> those of the native Californians before the Gringoes came.
> Here in Palestine we came nearer to the real Arab
> than    anywhere else;     grew interested in them and
> we
> 
> their native haunts, which they are said to have inhabited
> since   the   Flood,   some        of   the   tribes   claiming    direct
> 
> [ 163 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> descent from   one or more of the eighty persons who
> 
> made the voyage with Noah in the Ark. Having made
> a safe landing, they have been playing safe ever since by
> 
> simply holding their own in their own way.
> The nations around them have amassed great riches,
> built wonderful cities and speeded along on the main
> boulevard of civilization and power. But in the end
> they have paid the penalty for their so-called progress
> and sunk into ruin. While the wily Arab has persisted
> in clinging to his tents and is still neither greater nor
> less than he has ever been. Though always on the move,
> he has remained stationary; he is still enjoying his free
> dom, he has         never      conquered, and feels that he
> been
> never    will be.     Of some things perhaps he has a right
> character in
> to be    proud, as Lord Beaconsfield makes a
> one of his romances say,
> "the Arab is the only race that
> 
> never          and "the Creator of the world has never
> withers,"
> an   Arab!"
> spoken to anyone, except
> Our trip from Jerusalem        Cairo was interesting
> to
> 
> but uneventful.  It was enlivened somewhat by the
> attractive young Belgian woman in
> presence of a very                                 illu
> was able to relate many
> our compartment, who
> 
> minating and tragic first-hand
> war   experiences.
> the jurisdiction
> When we arrived at Kantara, leaving
> of Egypt, this young
> of    Palestine and entering that
> had failed to visit
> woman     found to her sorrow that she
> and
> secure permis
> the    police department in Jerusalem                  Officer
> and the Passport Control
> sion to leave Palestine,
> This was not only
> refused to allow her to proceed.
> but it looked like the end of our
> seriously aggravating,
> 
> [164]
> From Jerusalem to Cairo
> 
> pleasant little party. But after a long quiz, augmented
> by a great deal of persuasion on our parts, the officer
> became convinced that the omission was due to igno
> rance on the young woman's
> part, but as a penalty
> confiscated    her passport.       So    when the     train   arrived
> we    smuggled her across, into the car, and proceeded to
> Cairo, where we arrived safe and sound a few minutes
> before midnight.
> Here another pleasant surprise awaited us. Notwith
> standing the lateness of the hour, a number of Bahai
> friends   were     on  hand to meet us, and from that time
> on   spared   no   pains to make our stay in Cairo a pleasant
> one.    Thereafter      we   learned   more   and   more   that Bahai
> is another name for "cheerful service," and nothing was
> allowed to come between them and the stranger who
> was    sojourning among them.
> In contrast to the Western world, where business and
> money-getting take precedence over everything else, the
> unselfish hospitality of the Bahais at Cairo made a deep
> and lasting impression.
> 
> [165]
> XXII
> 
> Here and There in Cairo
> 
> The morning after our return to Cairo being Sunday and
> Easter (a day not largely celebrated in these parts), we were
> one of the most promi
> taking a brief rest, when Dr. S          ,
> 
> nent physicians in Cairo as well as one of the finest Bahais
> in the world, called and invited Mr. B      and myself to a
> real Egyptian lunch at the Aly Hassan El-Haty.
> The menu was a two-column affair, one side in French and
> the other in Arabic, but the Doctor, being a native Egyptian
> was equally
> and a graduate of the Lyon University in France,
> at home in either column and presided
> in a way that left
> we proceeded a few
> nothing to be desired. After lunch
> parasangs to a Cafe
> on the Opera     House   Square, where I
> which   the natives
> had m*y first and only lesson on a narghile,
> seem to enjoy anywhere
> from half an hour to half a day at
> that the only easy
> a stretch.   My experience was, however,
> is while you are waiting for the slave
> part of the performance
> to fix up a wad of Turkish
> tobacco about the size of a boiler-
> on top of it, and hand you
> the
> maker's fist, lay some live coals
> when you are supposed to
> ivory-handled end of "the snake,"
> for half an hour or more
> do the rest. After pulling away
> a fairly
> some headway and producing
> I was beginning to make
> 
> good  S;       but presently my brain began
> I
> to act like a
> had             merry^
> tak en ether
> d and I felt very much
> as if
> 
> a tooth extracted.
> So I slacked up a bi^and
> was about to have                                              and I
> then fresh coals were brought
> Tud  the nre went out;
> 
> [166]
> Here and There in Cairo
> 
> was   told to draw hard.  Everything began to grow hazy as
> the dizziness increased and a slight nausea added itself to the
> other alarming symptoms. So I quietly coiled up "the snake"
> and suggested that we get out into the fresh air, where I
> wondered if anybody had ever actualy finished one of those
> wads of Turkish tobacco and lived to tell the tale.
> The following evening we were invited to dinner at the
> home of a Persian grain merchant, giving us the opportunity
> to see more of the Oriental home life. Arriving a little before
> seven    in the evening, we were shown into a large living-room
> handsomely carpeted.      The walls were bare except for a few
> framed mottoes in Persian and some choice pieces of silk
> seemed to be the
> tapestry hanging here and there. The latter
> decoration in all the houses we visited in the Orient
> prevailing
> framed pictures being nowhere in evidence.
> Shortly after we arrived tea was served in    dainty glass
> cups, the beverage being
> made from the flowers of the tea
> instead of the leaves,   amber in color and very delicious
> pale
> as                   This refreshment was repeated at inter
> well as harmless.
> vals of half an hour until nine o'clock, when dinner was an
> nounced.       After everyone was seated, there were six and no
> ladies    present,  the host rose at the head of the table and
> delivered a neat little speech, saying that he was very happy
> to have us with him ; that it was an evening
> he would always
> 
> remember, and his only regret was that he had not
> more to
> 
> offer us.
> This making of neat little speeches seems to be an Oriental
> Persians had called at
> habit, as earlier in the day two young
> more than a dozen
> the hotel, and although I had not spoken
> words to them, one grasped my       hand  on  leaving and said
> 
> [167]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> very earnestly, "I am very happy to meet you. I love you
> very much, and I am only sorry I cannot talk more with
> you!"
> The following day, accompanied by a young Persian, I went
> again to Heliopolis, a modern suburb of Cairo, more nearly
> resembling California than anything I have seen. The wide
> streets are paved with asphaltum, the buildings are new and
> modern as well as being excellent examples of Arabic archi
> tecture.  The street cars are fine and clean, with large plate
> windows, and altogether are a trifle better than anything we
> have here, although we are supposed to have the best in the
> world.
> As usual, there is a reason for all this. A few years ago
> a company of capitalists built the city of Heliopolis and spared
> 
> no expense, as they expected it to outrival as
> well as outshine
> Monte Carlo. These beautiful interurban cars were intended
> to haul out their flush patrons in good shape, even
> if they did
> had every assurance
> happen to return broke. The company
> but the wheel
> that a gambling license would be granted them;
> and sufficient pres
> of fortune changed before it was installed
> to bear that the
> government     deemed it un
> sure wasbrought
> the             permission.   Thus a group of
> wise to give      necessary
> were left with a perfectly good city
> and a fine street
> capitalists
> car   system on their hands.                                 #
> 
> taste for Orien
> As I had acquired a recent, but pronounced,
> to stroll opposite the
> tal chanting I took every opportunity
> Arab woman, sitting on an old
> Opera House, where a blind
> turned her sightless eyes
> niece of carpet about a foot square,                            I
> uo to the sky and
> chanted from the Koran. In passing
> elicit    out-
> her hand, which would         an
> would lay half a piastre in
> 
> [ 168 ]
> Here and There in Cairo
> 
> burst of chanting that was wonderful to hear.        As soon as it
> subsided, I would turn and place another half piastre in her
> other hand, which insured another joyful paean of praise to
> Allah. As the cost was only two cents an outburst, it was alto
> gether the cheapest musical entertainment I had ever listened
> to, as well as the weirdest. The performances reminded me
> of that of the old colored woman in Kansas, who was praying
> the Lord to send her     a   loaf of bread, when     an   irreverent
> neighbor passed her shanty. Hearing her noisy supplication,
> he thought he would play a joke on her. So he brought a loaf
> of bread and threw it into the room, saying:
> "Here's your loaf of bread, mammy, but the Lord didn't
> send it. I brought it myself and you know me."
> "Dat's all right," she replied, "I knows you, but de good
> Lord sent it   jus' de same     even   if He did have de devil
> fetch it!"
> At another time I was startled by a different kind of music,
> caused by two Arab bootblacks who        were   trying to settle a
> little difference by butting their heads together.   When, at the
> end of ten minutes neither head nor neck had been broken,
> they shut off the music and finished by chewing each other's
> ears.
> 
> One of the charms of Cairo is the diversity of phases of
> As you pass along the streets you see ragged
> life found there.
> Arabs sprawled full length across the sidewalks, sound asleep,
> while people of wealth and fashion walk carefully around
> them.  The half-clad and half-blind lead the blind. High-
> powered automobiles honk for a pack-train of donkeys or a
> drove of sheep to release a part of the right of way. A
> modern trolley car (Westinghouse system) clangs its gong
> 
> [169]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> for a loaded caravan of camels to clear the crossing      some of
> 
> the camels, perhaps, with large baskets attached to each side
> from which dark-skinned and darker-eyed daughters of the
> desert look out on the city for the first time.      A group of
> natives squat on the curb rminching away on a cake of native
> bread about the size of an American pie and as elastic as a
> piece of Indian rubber; while near by at Groppi's you find a
> garden filled with small tables and crowded with as fashion
> able a gathering as you would find on the boulevards of Paris.
> Just outside the garden, native women move along with babies
> astride their shoulders (the baby clutching the mother's hair
> for support), all dressed in the fashion of Pharaoh's daughters
> when they tripped down to the river's edge with the royal
> laundry and found the infant Moses among the bulrushes,
> while his little sister loitered on the bank to suggest that she
> could find a good nurse for the hungry child.
> In the hotel  lobby   adainty  Japanese prima donna, with her
> while a
> European maid, fondles some sort of exotic poodle,
> on furlough, chat with their wives.
> group of English officers,
> Arabsthe
> The hotel terrace outside is crowded with turbaned
> chiefs of the villages roundaboutdressed
> in long robes of
> of
> broadcloth of all colors, talking excitedly to a delegation
> who have
> impassive  sheiks from about Damascus and Medina,
> been summoned to meet the English Foreign Secretary.
> cars passes, loaded
> In the street a three-car train of electric
> to the guards with noisy young Egyptians
> shouting, "Fall the
> a shot is heard
> English! Egypt for Egyptians!" Presently                  behind a
> and scurry to   shelter
> and a group of Arabs scatter
> row of cabs along the
> sidewalk. A lorry dashes up and un-
> 
> [170]
> Here and There in Cairo
> 
> loads a detachment of soldiers to clean out the square. And
> so the scenes are continually shifted.
> 
> Everywhere    is contrast and color, light and shade; the old
> and the new, mixing, but not mingling. In every direction
> is life and activity, until you are moved to exclaim: "Surely,
> Cairo is a city  where age cannot wither nor custom stale her
> infinite variety!"
> 
> [171]
> XXIII
> 
> Cairo to Alexandria
> 
> Our last   evening in Cairo furnished one of the most
> unique experiences we met with on our travels, although
> it necessitated our breaking one of the iron-clad rules of
> the Orient         that the    same   roof must not shelter two
> persons of the opposite sex unless they are man and wife.
> The stage was set as follows: The ladies, properly
> veiled, repaired to the house of a "friend" during the
> afternoon, removed their veils when indoors, and re
> mained there until the evening, when the rest of us put
> in our appearances.           We were greatly surprised in more
> ways than one; but after all the test was hardly a fair
> one, as the ladies were highly educated and spoke
> Arabic, Persian, French and English. Considering it
> was     unusual for them to be entertaining strangers, they
> carried it off very    successfully, and the experience was
> as it was perhaps as novel and excit
> mutually enjoyable,
> ing for them as for us.
> To    me   it   was   interesting, showing that human
> very
> the only
> nature is practically the same the world over,
> of our idioms
> difference in this case being that some
> to them,
> and attempts at humor were naturally strange
> able
> but by a little repetition and explanation they
> were
> 
> and so the evening passed
> always to grasp the idea,
> very    pleasantly.
> Cairo is the cordial recep-
> One delightful thing about
> 
> [172]
> Cairo to Alexandria
> 
> tion   given   to   Americans. Very often I was accosted
> by a native with, "You Engleez?" as he critically sized
> me up.    One being told, "No, Amerikani !" his face would
> light up and he would become effusive, repeating, "Ah!
> you good fellaw.     I like you!" And they were always
> anxious to do something for you, hoping, of course, that
> you will maintain the American's reputation for gen
> erosity.     You would be continually reminded that
> "Amerikani have plenty money not stingy!"            I was
> surprised at how many trips some of our most prom
> inent men must have made to Cairo, as nearly every
> guide claimed to be personally acquainted with one of
> our leading bankers.     "Very rich! Have show him all
> over Egypt!"    And they all spoke very affectionately of
> his liberality.
> But acquaintances ripen quickly in this climate. The
> little Greek, who kept a tobacco store at which I left a
> few piastres occasionally, almost wept when I told him
> I was leaving Cairo.     His only consolation seemed to
> be that perhaps he would sell out soon, and come to
> California, and see me there!
> This reminds       me   of another incident that led   me   to
> believe that the art of      salesmanship   in the Orient has
> reached a high degree of refinement.        When traveling in
> Europe and the Orient, a man who uses tobacco has as
> many troubles as a person taking care of twins. The
> customs  officials pick on him unmercifully and he is kept
> continually busy figuring how he can be out of tobacco
> when he reaches the frontier, and still have a smoke
> after he has crossed the border. And when you do lay
> 
> [173]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> in a supply, you wish you hadn't, as you rarely get any
> thing fit to smoke.
> As   we   were    to   be in Cairo for   a   few
> days I decided
> to stock up, and passing a tobacconist's shop on a
> 
> prominent street, my heart was made glad by the sight
> of a large can of American tobacco prominently dis
> played in the window. I lost no time in entering and
> pointed out the can I wanted. The proprietor began
> showing me one brand after another while I was still
> insisting on my first choice. Finally, having lost all
> patience I asked him why I could not have the can I
> indicated, when he confessed that that was the only
> can he had of that kind, and it was empty! he was
> 
> using it as a decoy to get the passing "Amerikani" into
> his store. When I told him plainly what I thought of
> his scheme, he replied that a large shipment had reached
> I
> Alexandria, and would be in his store in a few days.
> and to
> told him I would be back in Cairo in four weeks
> reserve me two cans. When I called
> about a month later,
> was unable to say
> the shipment had not arrived and he
> can had also dis
> what had become of it, but the empty
> appeared from his window!
> in Heliopolis we were
> While calling on some friends
> in this strange land
> introduced to another new feature
> was the people's firm belief
> of many surprises, and that
> is to
> Almost everything that happens
> in   prophecies.
> of    ancient prophecy
> some
> them    simply the fulfillment
> that "one day there would
> We were told of a prophecy
> and the ninth one would be called
> be nine cities in Cairo,
> if it did
> of which had come true, even
> Heliopolis"-all
> 
> [174]
> Cairo to Alexandria
> 
> require a group of foreign capitalists, who were trying
> to found     a   second Monte Carlo.
> A   telegram reminds them of the time of Job, when it
> was      said, "Canst thou send lightnings, that they may
> go and say unto Thee, here we are?"
> A humble "flivver" calls up a prophecy      nearly three
> thousand years old that "The chariots shall rage in the
> streets, and jostle one against another in the broad
> ways"-their headlights being the "torches" and their
> reckless speeding the "lightnings" referred to.
> And so on without end, everything seems to have been
> foreseen and foretold.
> The World War and consequent social unrest calls up
> the command of Daniel "to shut up the words and seal
> the book even to the time of the end," which means that
> a new dispensation will be given and the "Most Great
> 
> Peace" will arrive; the world will begin to realize that
> a purely material civilization has been a failure, that
> strife and world wars are folly, and will be willing to
> embrace the idea of universal brotherhood and strive to
> make the world better for the ones who are now living
> in it. All this, when properly backed up by statements
> and statistics, is very interesting.
> Our boat was to sail from Alexandria on April first,
> and passports, police permits, etc., must be attended to
> as well as the medical authorities satisfied that we were
> 
> in       reasonably good   healthparticular, free from
> in
> 
> cholera germs.   After the usual haggling, everything
> was arranged and we left Cairo on a special boat train
> 
> at quarter of ten in the morning, and after once more
> 
> [175]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> crossing the delta of the Nile, reached Alexandria at
> one-thirty in the afternoon. Here the railway, which is
> under English management, has a rule forbidding porters
> to enter          and remove luggage, so it was up to
> the   cars
> 
> me    to take  several well-loaded suit cases down from
> our
> 
> the racks and hoist them out through the window to the
> porters on the platform below.            All went well until the
> last, which had a broken handle, was allowed to swing
> against the inner window of our compartment. There
> was a         crash of broken glass.     Immediately a guard was
> at   my       elbow      demanding fifty piastres, which I handed
> to have
> him, thinking that would end it, and lined up
> my passport examined.
> In   a              again saw the guard approach,
> few minutes I
> accompanied by a tall, crimson-faced Englishman
> adorned with a still redder tarbush. Being identified as
> the culprit, I was requested to hand over twenty piastres
> more.                bobbed up and insisted that I had
> At this Mr. B
> know who
> paid for that window once, and wanted to
> the person was, and what right he  had to  come along
> 
> and demand more.    The big Englishman swelled up,
> and was so near choked with rage that all he could say
> was, "I am an Englishman!" His melodramatic attitude
> struck        being supremely funny, while we all felt
> us   as
> 
> tweed-clad Briton with
> sorry for him a big, raw-boned,
> to burst with anger.  As a
> a bright red tarbush, ready
> him if there were
> parting shot, Mr. B asked                      any           more
> 
> whether it was all settled now?
> Englishmen around,   or
> 
> was laughing, and our red-
> By this time everyone
> but look-
> faced friend retired with his twenty piastres,
> 
> [176]
> Cairo to Alexandria
> 
> ing as if he was about to enjoy an epileptic fit. And so,
> without more ado or further mishap, we handed the
> customs officer one hundred and five piastres, boarded
> the good ship Esperia, and at quarter after three in
> the afternoon, headed for Naples, realizing for the first
> time that we were really homeward bound.
> 
> [177]
> XXIV
> 
> How the Pyramids Were Built
> 
> As we are about to leave the land of the Pharaohs, it would
> seem an  appropriate time to exploit a theory which dawned
> on me during our sojourn there,
> regarding the probable
> method which was used by the builders of the pyramids.
> Aware that many theories have been advanced by eminent
> Egyptologists, men qualified by great learning and extensive
> research to speak with authority on such a subject, a simple
> and practical way occurred to me as I stood sizing up one of
> these immense pieces of masonry. As the solution seemed so
> 
> easy, I wondered why it had not been thought of before. For
> if it has, the treatise is certainly not in general circulation.
> I have no intention of applying for "letters patent" on the
> future pyramids that
> process, or of asking royalties on any
> this method, partly  because  someone else may
> may be built by
> have established a prior claim,    and because   the demand for
> seem to
> pyramids has fallen off considerably. In fact, they
> are the
> have gone out of style entirely, and small mud huts
> that       meets with gen
> only style of suburban architecture
> now
> 
> eral favor in Egypt.
> We were told that each one of the ninety or      pyramids
> more
> 
> the Valley  of the Nile, started
> forming huge triangles along
> with a small unit built first. This was
> commenced as soon as
> that even in those days
> a king ascended the throne, showing
> and  wished to make sure of an
> they believed in preparedness
> eternal resting place.
> 
> [178]
> How the Pyramids Were Built
> 
> As human life has      always been uncertain, and political
> revolutions more or less plentiful, the kings chose a size which
> they felt reasonably certain could be finished "in the rough"
> before they shuffled off, it being the practice to leave to their
> "heirs, executors, administrators and assigns," the job of
> putting on the polished surface of the exterior after the
> funeral services were over.
> We will suppose that after consulting the actuary and feel
> ing the political pulse, a king decided it would be safe to start
> a pyramid one hundred feet square.     Stone masons were hired
> at the rate of so many bushels of onions and garlic roots per
> annum   and started the work.   These men had what is known
> in railroad parlance as a "steady daylight" job, and worked in
> the cool shade of the quarries from one year's end to another,
> knowing that if they delivered the rocks they were sure of a
> job. For if their present employer died another would take
> his place, and another pyramid would have to be started at
> once.   So they had nothing to do but work.
> By  the beginning of June, these stone masons would have
> enough   stone ready for transportation to the site of the pro
> posed pyramid. The Nile had begun to overflow and all
> work in the fields consequently suspended. So the king would
> declare a three months' holiday, commanding all his subjects to
> report for work on his pyramid.
> As soon as this army of common laborers appeared they
> were set to clearing off the site; the Royal Engineer was al
> 
> ready on the lot with blueprints, and having set up the royal
> transit, proceeded to stake out the foundation exactly facing
> the four cardinal points.
> For convenience in figuring and because the king had al-
> 
> [179]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> ready decided the matter, the structure is to be one hundred
> feet square. And if the aforesaid king lives long enough and
> manages to hold his job, more layers will be added from time
> to time so that its final size will be an index to the length of
> his reign.
> While the site was being cleared, a good solid road was con
> structed from it to the quarries. The surface of this road was
> covered with smooth polished stones, which (according to the
> last stone slab in the specifications) "on completion of the
> outer shell is to be carefully removed and used as filling the
> interior of the structure, the road to be left broom-clean and
> to the satisfaction of the owner and engineer."
> As soon as the road was completed, large blocks of stone
> were moved out of    the quarries.   Just how or by what means
> is not stated in the specifications. The road over which they
> were moved was probably about sixty
> feet wide, and was some
> the Cheops
> times built entirely of polished stone. The one at
> in          and according to
> Pyramid was forty-eight    feet high     places,
> in building the
> the best accounts, ten years were consumed
> highway alone.                                           until
> On reaching the site, the stones were carefully placed
> they covered the allotted space,
> and  on completion level
> a
> 
> hundred feet square,  and about
> layer of stone is found
> one
> 
> The second layer, we will say for
> three and a half feet high.
> was made perhaps ninety
> feet square, thus leaving
> convenience,
> a five-foot margin all around.
> of beams acting as levers, the stones
> By an ingenious system                             first layer
> were hoisted from
> the roadway onto the top of the
> and a half feet, and rolled into place. The
> a distance of three
> was made eighty
> feet square, again leaving a
> next  layer
> 
> [180]
> How the Pyramids Were Built
> 
> margin of five feet all around and the stones were hoisted from
> the roadway onto the ledge formed by the first layer, and
> from there by another set of levers, raised on top of the
> second layer, and rolled into place. As the next layer was
> seventy feet square, the one above that sixty, and so on, the
> pyramid, when finished in the rough, consisted of a series of
> steps, and the blocks of stone needed only to be hoisted one
> step at a time, a distance of three to four feet.
> On reaching the last small square at the top, a polished cap
> was   put in place, and the entire structure left in the rough
> to be covered later with polished stone work, beginning at the
> 
> top and working down until the ground level was reached.
> While the great pyramid at Gizeh was originally nearly
> five hundred feet high, no stone was ever lifted over four feet
> at a time, and the whole operation becomes comparatively
> 
> simple and much easier than would at first appear.
> In case a pyramid was not built step-fashion, it would
> only be necessary to have a tier of steps on one side for use
> in hoisting the stones. This could be broken up later and used
> for filling the interior, as the outside layer only was composed
> of large stones, inside of which small stones, earth and rubbish
> were   utilized.
> As a matter of statistics, as well as to get an idea of what
> the union considered a fair day's work in the days of King
> Cheops, I took the trouble of making a few calculations, and
> to the best of our knowledge and belief, each thousand men
> were required to place twelve blocks of stone in place each
> 
> working day, amounting to about five hundred cubic feet of
> stone, or about eighty pounds per man per day, which would
> be equal to one modern brick per man per hour.
> 
> [181]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> By applying the method above outlined to the walls of
> Jerusalem, the building becomes a comparatively easy opera
> tion.  Instead of lifting these huge blocks vertically for a
> height of one hundred and fifty feet (which would be a stu
> pendous proposition), the plan was more likely as follows:
> A temporary tier of steps was located at the northwest
> cornerof the wall, where the highest ground around the city
> is found.   Here a tier of twelve steps enabled them to raise
> the top course of stone work to the required height, and when
> once on top of the walls, a block could be rolled along to its
> 
> proper place.
> My hypothesis seemed to be working all right until I unfor
> tunately discovered several sections of masonry laid at an
> angle of about twenty degrees. This was very amazing, but
> I presume with a liberal amount of profanity these few sec
> tions could be managed somehow.
> I am still sorry they did those little stretches that way, as
> it "threw a monkey wrench into the machinery" of a perfectly
> on for a long time !
> good
> ^    theory, and one I had been working
> home of the free and the
> Finally, after getting back to the
> to look up what could be
> land of public libraries, I decided
> After considerable
> found on  the  subjectof pyramid-building.
> Father of History")
> searching I found that Herodotus ("the
> and in the first history ever
> had visited Egypt about 450 B. C,
> and duplicated my scheme
> written had stolen all my thunder,
> that in this manner the pyramids were
> exactly stating as a fact
> that my version is a little
> constructed. So it would seem
> Herodotus beat me to it by nearly
> late in appearing and that
> But that is not entirely my fault,
> twenty-five hundred years.                                     hun-
> as I didn't see
> them any sooner, and anyway twenty-five
> 
> [182]
> How the Pyramids Were Built
> 
> dred years is only a short space of time in a land where it
> never   rains, and where the beams and timber put in place at
> least five thousand years ago are now only beginning to show
> signs of decay and will have to be replaced within the next
> thousand years or so.
> Anyway I was glad to know that my theory was backed up
> by such good authority, and that in my ignorance I happened
> to hit on the right scheme; but judging from the evidence,
> the process may be safely considered as public property and
> free to any and all who may desire to build a summer pyramid
> anywhere along the banks of the sunny Nile.
> 
> [183]
> XXV
> 
> Woman's Sphere in the Orient
> 
> Judging from a brief and limited investigation, it would
> seem     that women's activities in the Orient are not only
> very circumscribed, but of very short duration, as they
> consider themselves old at twenty and without much to
> live for after that age. We were also told that many of
> them     never
> go  outside of their homes after marriage
> until they are removed for burial. Thus the life of the
> average     woman   in the East is    one   of unrelieved   mo
> 
> notony.     There is no social or club life, no civic activity
> or  diversion to occupy the feminine mind.     Time is
> principally spent in sitting indoors, eating sweets and
> indulging in the fragrant cigarette.
> In the better class of villas (at Heliopolis, for instance),
> the houses are provided with flat roofs, used as roof
> gardens, and are also surrounded by gardens, inclosed
> by high "eye-proof" walls, where the lady, or ladies, as
> the case may be, may walk, enjoy the sunshine and
> remain safely unexposed to the gaze of the stranger.
> To an Oriental woman, a woman from the West, who
> as she pleases, is an
> goes about, dressing and acting
> objectof       curiosity, and it is beyond her to under
> great
> stand how she can mingle publicly with strangers. She
> is shocked, but at the same time envies her Occidental
> sister, and is not only hoping, but is actually planning
> to secure a little of that liberty for herself. Especially
> 
> [184]
> Woman's Sphere in the Orient
> 
> is
> is this true in     Egypt, where an extensive movement
> now  under way, the climax of which promises to occur
> very soon, and is awaited with
> considerable interest.
> As is well known, the practice of wearing veils dates
> back to   very earlytimes (it is casually mentioned in
> of
> the twenty-fourth chapter of Genesis), but the women
> Egypt think the    time has  now arrived   for dispensing
> with this ancient adornment, and are quietly forming a
> nation-wide and unique "union."     When the time is
> considered ripe, these veils will all be cast into the
> discard. At present there are two kinds of veils worn
> by  the Moslem women.    One a heavy black affair that
> 
> you cannot     see    through with a telescope, worn by the
> a thin, white gauzy subter
> poorer classes; the other,
> fuge, about the  size of a  ladies' handkerchief, worn by
> the wealthier and more     aristocratic women.    This has
> been          increasingly transparent, thinner  and  smal
> growing
> ler, until   now,     instead of   concealing the face,   it tends
> rather toheighten the color and brilliancy of its wearer's
> black eyes, and at the same time conceal the coarse
> texture of her features, a state of complexion due no
> doubt to the sedentary life and saccharine diet.
> are worn only by the followers of the
> veils
> Though
> Prophet, the  .condition of the female sex among the
> Oriental Christians and Jews is little better than among
> the Moslems, where they are regarded as mere chattels.
> The Moslem even dislikes to see his wives praying or
> concerning herself with religious matters; the churches
> are         with a separate place for them to worship,
> provided
> 
> [185]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> in case they insist on doing so, and when they die       they
> are buried in a nook by themselves.
> 
> It was surprising to learn that divorce cases are prac
> tically unknown in this country, and I took the first
> opportunity to discuss the matter with a prominent
> judge in Cairo, who explained it by saying, "Why
> should there be?      There is   no   need to go into court
> about such an easy matter!"
> It is all very simple, for the husband has only to say
> three times in the presence of witnesses, "I divorce you !"
> and the deed is done.    But he must properly provide
> for the cast-off wife and her children, and the former
> retains her marriage portion.
> If the wife seeks a divorce, the matter is more com
> and must go
> plicated; she loses her "dot" and alimony,
> to court about it.   But no woman ever    does  this, as it
> for the
> is much simpler to make things so disagreeable
> and
> head of the house that he will call in a witness
> words  that  will untie   the
> pronounce   the three magic
> marital knot.
> There   are   other and deeper reasons which perhaps
> in other
> make conjugal     infelicity rarer in the Orient than
> are arranged in
> countries. In the first place, marriages
> a different way, the
> usual process being somewhat as
> arrives at a marriageable
> follows: When a young man
> like
> his mother that he thinks he would
> age he informs
> if this is agreeable  to  her, she
> to have a wife, and
> to think
> matters. In case the son fails
> agrees to arrange
> of it first, his mother
> reminds him of the fact, and the
> the same.    The mother then
> proceedings go on just
> 
> [186]
> Woman's Sphere in the Orient
> 
> makes up a list of eligible young ladies, and by a process
> of elimination finally settles on one or more of the
> most      desirable.         Not satisfied with her             own    judgment,
> she calls in      a   council of half         a   dozen    or   so    old       women
> 
> of her  acquaintance,       lays  and             the matter before them.
> sleuthing is now in order, and the habits, dis
> A little
> position and idiosyncrasies of the candidate are carefully
> looked into, particular attention being paid to the follow
> ing qualifications: She must be good looking, neat and
> clean in her habits, of good character and competent to
> manage the affairs of the house.                       In due time          a   choice
> is made, and the mother reports back to her son that
> everything is arranged and reminds him to be on hand
> at    a   certain time for the            marriage ceremony.
> In the meantime the bride has been notifed, and believ
> ing it is her destiny to be married to someone at some
> time in her life, no doubt feels a little relieved, and per
> haps flattered because she is the one that has been
> chosen (so far!) to marry this certain young man, whom
> she has         never    seen.
> 
> Everything   arranged in a cold-blooded, impersonal
> is
> manner.     Nothing is left to chance nor to the caprices
> of the romantic attachment called love.
> An incident which was related to us                            as   actually to
> have  happened               will throw      some      light   on    the religious
> superstitions of these people.
> A doctor in                in eye diseases, was
> Cairo,   a   specialist
> visited one day by a peasant woman and her daughter
> who she feared was going blind. After a glance at the
> patient, the doctor decided he did not care to treat the
> 
> [187]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> case,  but the mother pleaded so persistently that he
> finally consented, providing she would take the girl
> somewhere and wash the filth and infectious matter from
> her face.    The mother burst into tears and    explained
> that such    athing was impossible, as according to their
> religion it was forbidden to put water on a girl's face
> until after she was married! How she expected to find
> a husband for her daughter in that condition, it would
> 
> be hard to imagine; but they left the doctor's office
> without washing the girl's face or receiving treatment,
> showing that religion was esteemed above health or
> common     sense.   Thus through ignorance this poor
> woman      and   all   the   other members   of   that sect had
> reversed the teachings of El-Islam, and were not only
> blindly following it themselves, but were causing their
> children to go blind also.
> One would naturally conclude that what             was   needed
> 
> in this country was education, but here              was   another
> the women has proved
> paradoxso far education among
> and discontent. The daughters of
> a source of sorrow
> to Europe or to
> the wealthier class are usually sent
> receive an
> French convents in their own country; they
> after getting a broader
> education, a taste of freedom, and
> and  settle down to a life
> outlook of life, return home
> and do some
> of stagnation. They long to be something
> forced to settle down in the
> thing in the world, but are
> old groove.
> Imagine the thrill that falls
> to(or ladies) ol
> the lady
> master decides to give a
> the house when the lord and
> his friends! All the female mem-
> dinner party to a few of
> 
> [188]
> Woman's Sphere in the Orient
> 
> bers of the family, including wives, daughters and female
> servants, are kept carefully out of sight, and perhaps
> from an              room (through a crack in the door
> adjoining
> way), get a glimpse of the festivities and overhear odd
> bits of the conversation; but have   no    more   chance of
> 
> joining in the repartee or enjoying  the  good things of
> the feast than a mummy in the Egyptian Museum.
> Although a man seems to have a little the best of the
> bargain, yet it is not all smooth sailing for him, as oc
> casionally one happens to acquire a bunch of quarreling
> wives, or wives that grow lean and unattractive, instead
> of fat and fashionable.
> After  becoming acquainted with conditions in the
> Orient, I began to realize that an immense step was
> taken by the Bahais in laying down their Sixth Principle
> Equality Between Men and Women. To the people
> of the West, it seems simply a matter of fact, but it must
> have made the Oriental world gasp to hear that "the
> world of humanity has two wings one is woman and
> the other man.  Not until both wings are equally de
> 
> veloped can the bird fly. Not until the world of women
> becomes equal to the world of men in the acquisition of
> virtues and perfections, can success and prosperity be
> attained as they ought to be."
> 
> [189]
> XXVI
> 
> The Future of Bahaism
> 
> While crossing the Mediterranean from Naples to
> Alexandria on our way to Palestine, we had as a fellow
> passenger an Egyptian Prince, whom I have already had
> occasion to mention.   Having made his acquaintance
> and finding him an agreeable and well-informed man, we
> had several  long talks together, in one of which we
> discussed       teachings of "that wonderful man of
> the
> Haifa" (Abdul Baha), whom the Prince intended to
> visit as soon as it could be arranged, as he was greatly
> interested in him and the Bahai movement.
> As I knew very little about Bahai matters at that time,
> I   was   glad to let the Prince do most of the talking,
> while I assumed the role of listener. After considering
> the Bahai doctrines from several angles, and airing
> his views ingeneral, the Prince remarked that it was
> his religion;
> asking a great deal of a man to give up
> Orient  each nation had its own religion,
> that, in the
> hundreds of years;
> which had been handed down for
> that the people were satisfied
> with it, and he doubted
> if they could   ever be persuaded to give it up.
> find something
> I ventured to suggest that they might
> new  and better.
> is nothing newer or bet
> "But," he protested, "there
> the same
> ter  All the great religions teach practically
> revelation contains  no new   truths.
> thing The Bahai
> or better to be had."
> There is nothing newer
> 
> [190]
> The Future of Bahaism
> 
> In conclusion, he stated that in his opinion there was
> absolutely no hope of the old religions being supplanted
> in the Orient.
> "But," he added, "in your country, where there is no
> old established religion, where the people are democratic
> and progressive, where every language, race and creed
> isrepresented,  there, no doubt, is a great future for the
> Bahais.   Some great religion will undoubtedly spring up,
> make its home there, and weld all these different creeds
> into one.   In the Orient, where conditions are different,
> I can see no hope; but in America such a thing is possible!"
> significant, coming,   as   it   did,
> This, I thought,           was
> 
> from   a     well-versed in world affairs, and one who,
> man
> 
> from his position and long experience, was competent
> to take a broad view of the matter, especially from
> an
> 
> Oriental       standpoint.
> Had I been better posted, I             might have informed him
> that   no      one,   on   becoming   a   Bahai, is required   to   dis
> card his former belief;                thirty
> that   some          thousand
> Orientals had already suffered martyrdom for the cause,
> and that probably  one million more are now living the
> 
> life of    a      although in many places in the Orient
> Bahai
> this must still be  done secretly.
> But what interested me particularly was the Prince's
> statement that the ideals of the American people and
> those of the Bahais were identical, and his prophecy
> that this country would be the scene of their greatest
> activities. Here, I concluded, was food for thought.
> As to his claim that there is nothing new in the Bahai
> revelation, and that Abdul Baha is teaching the                     same
> 
> [191]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> things that Christ taught, and the same that Mohamed
> and all the other great teachers of the East have taught,
> I was unable to make a more pertinent remark than that
> all the great religions are fundamentally based on the
> same general truths, and so far we were all agreed.
> 
> But now comes a friend who takes exception to our
> conclusions and claims that five minutes' investigation
> will show that they are all wrong. So, at the risk of
> unloosing another theological discussion, and begging
> the reader's pardon, we will state briefly what the Bahai
> advocate has to say.
> In general, he claims the Bahai revelation is the first
> set of doc
> to come forward with a sane and practical
> in parables,
> trines from beginning to end ; one not given
> and  incapable  of
> but easily understood by everybody
> in a variety of different ways.   That
> being interpreted
> from being a breeding
> its simplicity renders it immune
> That it has   no  that
> features
> sects.
> place for various
> because contrary to reason.
> must be accepted on faith
> is taught in other
> And finallythat it contains all that
> and advanced precepts not
> new
> religions besides many        revelation.
> touched upon in any former
> as one of the
> latest and greatest
> Taking Christianity                            doctrines
> friend pointed out how the
> rel gions my Bahai                                 those of
> have been superseded    by
> of the Old Testament
> ^ew         ^^^^ZIo'Z
> Testament,
> 
> ZZ^Z^*
> Jr Zs persecution;
> for
> political     the Nazarene: That
> that governments were sim-
> the people; that taxation was
> p7y7nstrutions    for undoing
> 
> [192]
> The Future    of Bahaism
> 
> robbery; that poverty was a sort of virtue and wealth
> a crime.   Again and again His followers are taught to
> despise on earth the things that are offered as a reward
> in heaven; asked for debts to be forgiven without pay
> ment; advocated breaking loose from all home ties;
> advised quitting work, and helping yourself to your
> neighbor's larder and repaying him by stating that "the
> laborer is worthy of his hire!"
> Besides these doctrines of doubtful value, Christianity
> as   formulated by St. Paul is based on hair-splitting
> differences, that have given rise to hundreds of different
> sects.  He divides the people of the earth into two
> classes, one to be consumed by the wrath of their Cre
> ator   and the other to ascend into heaven.      In many
> cases,  tosupport what could not be proved     by reason,
> Paul called to his aid "religious faith."
> Compare these doctrines with the principles laid down
> by Baha Ullah nineteen hundred years later.
> The twelve basic Bahai Principles have been set forth
> in a previous chapter and may be briefly summarized as
> follows :
> The great purpose of the Bahai movement is to unite
> and harmonize all the races and religions of the world.
> War is to be abolished and international differences
> settled by a council of arbitration.
> Everyone is to practice some trade, art or profession.
> Begging is strictly forbidden, and work must be pro
> vided for all.
> There is to be   no   separate paid priesthood, and the
> practice of asceticism is prohibited.
> 
> [193]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Monogamy is enjoined.
> Education for all, boys and girls alike, is commanded
> as a religious duty.
> 
> The equality of men and women is upheld.
> A universal language as a means of international com
> munication is to be formulated and adopted.
> Gambling, the use of alcoholic liquors as a beverage,
> the taking of opium, cruelty to animals and slavery are
> forbidden.
> Some          of one's income must be devoted to
> portion
> charity. The administration of charitable funds, pen
> sions for widows, the sick and disabled and for the edu
> cation and   care   of   orphans to be the business of the
> state.
> After  repeated backing and filling, and going over
> considerable ground, we found that Abdul Baha had
> we were dis
> already fully disposed of the very points
> in the little booklet
> cussing in an incident recorded
> on
> 
> Divine Philosophy, where he says:
> "Certain of the clergy in America said,     'Many of the
> been forgotten. Baha Ullah
> truths in our religion have
> of them.'
> has come to remind us
> "One clergyman      said   before a large congregation,
> old beliefs but he has brought us
> 'Baha Ullah revises the
> These truths are already found in the
> nothing  new.
> 
> sacred books.'
> 'I am going to quote you some
> "Then I arose and said,
> of Baha Ullah's      instructions for this day and you will
> sacred book they are to be found.'
> show me in which
> men to free their minds from the
> "Baha Ullah exhorts
> 
> [194]
> The Future      of Bahaism
> 
> superstitions of the past and to seek independently for
> truth, putting aside ali dogmas. Religions are one. Let
> us banish creeds that the reality may become unveiled.
> 
> In which sacred book do you find this?
> "He heralds the hour of unity which has dawned               on
> 
> all mankind.       All   are   the children of   one   Father; all
> the inheritors of that future peace         on   earth.   He ad
> monishes men to banish prejudice;    religious, patriotic,
> racial preconceptions must disappear, for they are the
> destroyers of human society. Where is this written?
> In which part of the Bible, Old or New Testament?
> "Religion must be the cause of affection. It must be
> a   joy-bringer.    If it becomes the    cause of difference, it
> were     better to banish it.     Should it become the source
> of hatred, of warfare, it were better that it should not
> exist.  If a remedy produce added illness, it were far
> better to discard the   remedy. A religion which does
> not conform with the postulates of science is merely
> 
> superstition. In which sacred book do you find this
> thought? Tell me.
> "Baha Ullah declares the absolute equality of the
> sexes.   The male and female in the mineral, vegetable
> and animal kingdoms share alike the natural bestowals.
> Why should there be a difference in the human kingdom?
> Verily, they are equal before God, for He so created them.
> Why should women be deprived of exercising the full
> est opportunities offered by life?      Whosoever serves
> humanity most is nearest God, for God is no respecter
> of gender. The male and female are like the two wings
> of a bird and when both wings are reinforced with the
> 
> [ 195]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> same  impulse the bird of humanity will be enabled to
> soar heavenward to the summit of progress. In which
> sacred book is this written?
> "Education holds an important place in the new order
> of    things.   The education of each child is    compulsory.
> If there is not money enough in a family to educate
> both the girl and the boy, the money must be dedicated
> to the  girl's education, for she is the potential mother.
> If there   are no parents the community must educate
> 
> the child. In addition to this widespread education each
> child must be taught a profession, art, or trade, so that
> every member of the community will be enabled to earn
> his own livelihood. Work done in the spirit of service
> is the highest form of worship. Where do you find this
> statement ?
> "Baha Ullah's solution of the social question provides
> for new laws, but the different social classes are pre
> served. An artisan remains an artisan; a merchant, a
> a banker, a banker; a ruler, a ruler; the
> dif
> merchant;
> ferent    degrees      persist, so that each can render
> must
> has
> service to the community. Nevertheless, everyone
> is to
> the right to a happy and comfortable life. Work
> there  will be     needy   ones to  be
> be provided for all and                no
> 
> seen in the streets.    The vocational     labor  adjustment
> provided by  Baha  Ullah precludes   there  being  people too
> poor to have
> the necessaries of life on the one hand, or
> sacred book do you
> the idle rich on the other. In which
> find this provided for? Show
> me.
> 
> between
> "In order to facilitate complete understanding
> auxiliary language will be adopted
> all people, a universal
> 
> [196]
> The Future         of Bahaism
> 
> and in the schools of the future two               languages will be
> taught the mother tongue and this international aux
> iliary tongue, which will be either one of the existing
> languages or a new language made up from words from
> all the languages  the matter to be determined by a
> confederation met for the purpose which shall represent
> all tribes and nations.  This international tongue will
> be    used   in   the   work    of    the   parliament        of    man,    a
> 
> supreme tribunal of the world, which will be permanently
> established in order to arbitrate international questions.
> The members of this arbitral court of                 justice       will be
> 
> representatives of all the countries. It is incumbent upon
> the nations to obey the commands of this tribunal, for
> such a tribunal will be under the power of God and for
> the protection of all men.   In all of the sacred books
> where do you find such          a    statement?
> "The purpose of these new laws is to destroy antago
> nism by finding a point of agreement.    We cannot in
> duce men to lay down their arms by fighting with them.
> If    two    individuals   dispute      about     religion,        both    are
> 
> wrong.  The Protestants and Catholics, the Moham
> medans and Christians war over religion. The Nesto-
> rians claim that Christ         was    merely a slave, a man like
> the rest, but God put His spirit upon Him. The Catholics
> say that He was one of the trinity.   Both are wrong!"
> In conclusion he says: "Baha Ullah's teachings are the
> health of the world.           They represent the spirit of this
> age, the light of this age, the well-being of this age, the
> soul of this cycle. The world will be at rest when they
> are   put into practice, for they are reality."
> 
> [197]
> XXVII
> 
> On the Good Ship Esperia
> 
> It has just occurred to me that some few chapters
> back our party boarded the steamer at Alexandria, and
> as   the
> good ship Esperia happened to be a fast boat, and
> proposed to land us in Naples in two days and three
> nights, it lost no time in getting under way. So we
> hurried on deck to get a last glimpse of Egypt, a land
> which had proved so fascinating, and which in the mat
> ter of lure seemed to be better supplied than almost any
> other country we had visited. As we leaned over the
> rail and watched the low shore-line disappear, many
> thoughts and various emotions chased each other along
> the vacant corridors of our minds.
> In the distance         was   fast   fading out the land where
> science,         art   and         originated; where the
> architecture
> human mind had struggled through all the stages of
> writ
> picture-writing, pictorial phonetism and alphabetic
> in
> ing; a land where in early days they put gold rings
> of their sacred crocodiles, and where the
> man
> the       ears
> when  his cat died.
> of the house shaved off his eyebrows
> for anyone in
> A fair enough land in those olden times
> for the sick, who were
> good health, but not so happy
> blood and milk
> dosed with concoctions of nitre, beer,
> boiled up and swallowed hot.
> It   was        that they decided, probably fifty
> here   also
> human being consisted of
> centuries or more ago, that a
> 
> [198]
> On the Good Ship Esperia
> 
> six parts: A body,       soul, intelligence, a name, a shadow,
> and  a  "ka," or vital principle, which was the most
> troublesome of all, as it remained with the mummy and
> required food and perpetual apartments similar to what
> it had been accustomed to before it "shuffled off this
> mortal coil."
> Here, it is claimed, originated ages ago the belief in
> the immortality of the soul and the physical resurrec
> tion of the body, which accounts for the fact that at
> one    time   over  hundred millions of mummies were
> seven
> 
> tucked away in the sands and rock-hewn tombs in the
> valley of the Nile, all waiting for the summons that
> never    came,which may be the reason the old Sphinx
> continues to smile in the same inscrutable way, because
> the whole lot of them had been fooled, and at least one-
> third of them carted away and used as fertilizer!
> Here was not only a fair land but, it would appear,
> an unusually attractive one for bankers, with its
> modest
> 
> rate of interest of six percent per month, compounded
> A thrifty land also for
> every time, the moon changes!
> surveyors,  as  landmarks are more or less obliterated
> and leaves its coat
> every year when the Nile overflows
> ing of slime over the valley.
> Far away in the distance        lay Cairo, a city where, in
> uncommonly wet seasons, as much as one inch of rain
> A place where everything that dies turns
> is liable to fall.
> to dust, and floats in the air until blown away.
> A busy,
> 
> hustling  city, while up to its very edge creeps the
> desert where all is death and silence. Here and there
> 
> loom up  those huge triangles, the tombs of kings; but
> 
> [199]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> there in the   city itself, on its paved streets, under the
> glare of its lights, all is life and activity. Here one day
> is like another and the weather, being always the same,
> is a total loss as a topic of conversation. Here umbrellas
> and cravanettes, ear-muffs and galoshes, are not to be
> found on special sale at any of the haberdashery shops,
> and millinery stores and beauty parlors are about as
> common      as   Palm Beach suits in       Patagonia!
> In this land a long cotton tunic and a head-dress con
> sisting   of a cloth wound seven times around the head
> for a
> (which has been found to be sufficient and handy
> shroud in case of an emergency), and sometimes a pair
> of loose slippers, completes the costume of thousands of
> the natives, who go through life "hoping for the perfect
> age of one hundred
> and ten years," and are always as
> or a Kafoo monkey.
> happy and carefree as an Ani ape
> The  half     never be told of this
> But why continue?              can
> 
> done in such
> wonderful country where things were once
> were   built with the
> a superlative way; where statues
> where they piled up in
> features magnified thirty times,
> foot
> one pyramid sufficient
> stone to build a wall one
> 
> two-thirds of the way around   the globe!
> square                                                     to the
> Our only stop      wasSyracuse, where, owing
> at
> in the bay for three hours.
> low tide, we came to anchor
> to
> be made for two reasons;
> This long stop seemed to
> to  be taken ashore,
> allow a score or more of passengers
> musicians   to row alongside
> and to allow some native
> usual serenade.   While the pas
> and regale us with the
> small percentage
> them with coins, only
> a
> sengers pelted
> musicians  or fell into the boat,
> the
> of which either hit
> 
> [ 200 ]
> On the Good Ship Esperia
> 
> they retaliated with Oui, Marie, and a few native songs,
> which, like the jokes in a circus, are always the same,
> and in this consists their principal charm.   What with
> dodging   the  coins, scraping away  on their violins and
> trying  to  sing, they  seemed  to be having a -perfectly
> good time, and finally when the shower of small coins
> had subsided, they rowed for shore, as happy as if the
> gate receipts were sufficient for one course of spaghetti
> and a bottle of rosso ordinario.
> Now came Saturday night, the last one of our voyage!
> A very busy night, too, with a grand ball       on   board, and
> the Straits of Messina in sight.      A beautiful   sight in the
> early   evening with the shores    on   both sides of the   nar
> 
> row  Straits dotted with myriads of electric lights the
> Scylla and Charybdis of our schoolboy days!
> The next morning at seven o'clock, the engines
> abruptly slowed down, and we were sidling up to the
> pier at Naples, right on schedule time. Then came the
> doctors and passport officials, and a wild scramble to
> get ashore; for we had still the ordeal before us of pass
> ing the customs officials and a carriage ride across the
> city to the railroad station, and a scant half hour to
> do it in.
> Thanks to the   energetic efforts of the American Ex
> press    representative, everything was arranged and we
> had five or ten minutes to spare in which to take a fresh
> breath, but were cautioned while doing so to keep one
> eye    on   our   baggage.   Evidently we were getting back
> to    civilization  again!
> 
> [201]
> XXVIII
> 
> From Naples to Paris
> 
> A German thinker    once   discovered that there is   a
> 
> great difference between reading a bill of fare and eating
> a  regular meal; we likewise learned in a casual sort of
> way that making out an itinerary on paper bears very
> little resemblance to taking the actual trip, especially
> in Italy at the present time.
> When the Express agent in Cairo glibly mapped out
> our return trip, it looked as complete and up to date
> 
> as this year's almanac.  We were to connect up with a
> certain White Star steamship called the Olympic, sail
> had simply to
> ing from Cherbourg on April sixth. We
> take the special boat-train from Cairo to Alexandria,
> to Naples, the
> connecting with the fast boat Esperia
> Rome to Paris
> local train to Rome, then the de luxe
> in Paris in thirty-six
> Express, which would land
> us
> 
> hours.
> We got to Naples all right on schedule
> time; but there
> Rome to Paris Express train
> ran
> we learned that the
> and its next appearance would
> only three times a week,
> the day we were due in
> be on the following Tuesday,
> make connections with the
> Paris, if we expected to
> steamer on which our
> reservations had been made.
> the face: That boat-train
> Three things stared us in
> would surely pull out on
> from Paris to Cherbourg
> m.; we were nearly
> Wednesday at nine forty-five
> a.
> 
> [ 202 ]
> From Naples to Paris
> 
> fifteen hundred miles away from it, and something had
> to be done quickly.  Mr. B   did not register much joy
> as   he thought of someone else sailing away in the
> elegant cabin on which he had made a deposit of six
> hundred dollars, and for my part, I was greatly disap
> pointed in losing out on that "de luxe" train, as I was
> looking forward to learning at first-hand how these
> words were construed in Italy.
> The   railroad    cars   we   had   seen      had   been   far   from
> "de luxe," in fact, we had never been able to find a
> polite expression that would begin to describe them.
> But there   we     were,   and there      wasnothing to do but
> forge ahead,  trust to luck and       get to Paris in the quick
> est way possible.
> 
> Our first lap, from Naples to Rome, was not very en
> couraging, as everybody seemed to have run down to
> Naples the night before in order to go back on the
> morning train. The train was not only crowded, but
> got started half an hour late, and little by little kept
> adding to its lateness. Everyone seemed to feel that it
> was a very natural
> thing for a train to be late, and if
> it kept losing time, it would be only that much later
> in arriving.    Only three people on that whole train
> seemed to be at all impatient or in a hurry, which made
> it all the more aggravating.    After jostling around for
> six hours in the "standing room only" part of the car,
> we reached Rome.       We had barely time to transfer to
> the train for the north, take a full breath, and thank
> our lucky stars that at last we had a quiet compartment
> 
> [ 203 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> where        could sit down, when the conductor tooted
> we
> 
> his little brass horn, and we were off.
> Presently it occurred to me that we were in Italy
> again (several little things had suggested that fact), and
> I remembered that unless you have tickets for dinner,
> you do without anything to eat, so I started out to make
> a    few reservations.         No     one   seemed to know what I
> was    talking about,     so       I continued from   one   end of the
> train to the other, only to find it had no dining car; that
> it did not stop anywhere for meals, and that                  sleeping
> cars were also considered superfluous.
> 
> The few oranges and a small box of chocolates which
> Mrs. B      always managed to have stowed away soon
> disappeared, but our hunger remained.                  Adjourning to
> the vestibule of        our   car,   we     waited hour after hour   as
> 
> the train whizzed past little               stations, until after nine
> o'clock, when it halted in an               important looking station
> with     a   buffet,   to which      I
> dashed, grabbed some hard,
> dry      sandwiches      quarto fiasco of Chianti.
> and    a                      We
> arrived at Turin the next  morning, tried, hungry, sleepy
> and dirty!
> To make it still more interesting the water supply had
> been depleted early the evening before, and no one had
> taken the trouble to replenish it.  For fourteen hours
> water had been as absent as soap, towels, drinking cups,
> 
> or    any other conveniences             usually found on a railroad
> train.
> Luckily we had eight hour's stop-over in Turin, and
> made up for lost opportunities by cleaning up, and haw
> ing a bountiful breakfast, followed a couple of hours
> 
> [ 204 ]
> STATIK   OF   JOAN   OF   AgC   IX   THE   MADELEIXK,   PARIS
> From Naples to Paris
> 
> laterby a still more bountiful lunch, and also laid in
> enough provender to last us for the next twenty-four
> hours.
> Feeling again on rather better terms with the world
> in  general and Italy in particular, we set out to fill
> in the time, and see something of Turin, which proved
> to be one of the greatest surprises of our trip.         Not
> expecting much we found a great deal to admire and
> enjoy; for here was a beautiful city, very picturesque
> and laid out like a miniature Paris.       It is perhaps the
> only city in Italy which is conspicuous for the regu
> larity of its streets. They open out into spacious squares,
> and (what is remarkable for Italy!) everything is neat,
> clean and orderly.
> Nature has done a great deal for Turin by giving it a
> superb location. Along the eastern edge winds the
> River Po, beyond which rises a range of beautiful hills
> covered with attractive villas.       Parks, gardens, public
> monuments and well designed buildings give it a modern
> and up-to-date appearance.        This city is evidently the
> Detroit of Italy, as we passed many automobile factories,
> the Fiat, Scat, Itala and another very popular car, in
> which we became greatly interested, because we thought
> we might some day have money enough to purchase it.
> 
> These cars, which were cavorting around in every direc
> tion, looked like overgrown motorcycles or a lot of
> infant Fords. In spite of their small size, they showed
> considerable speed, and developed quite as much noise
> as a full-grown car.       An ideal thing for a souvenir, but
> suit cases were more than full already.
> unfortunately    our
> 
> [ 205 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> At first glance it would seem strange that the city
> of Turin should be associated with the name and ex
> ploits of Hannibal, but such is the case, and students of
> Roman      history    will recall how that General, after he
> had the dream in which he         saw so many snakes, started
> 
> on   his   invasion   Italy. He crossed the Alps and
> of
> pounced down on this city of Torina (which was then
> called Taurasia), completely destroyed the place and
> put the inhabitants to the sword, hoping by this act to
> strike such terror into the natives that they would be
> comes his allies, and help him in his pet scheme of con
> 
> quering Italy with the swords of the Italians themselves.
> While it was rather hard on Turin to be wiped out of
> existence because of a grudge they had against Rome,
> it was probably a good thing in the long run, as the
> Emperor Augustus had it rebuilt in a proper way. The
> name  of the party to whom was entrusted the work of
> laying out the new city is perhaps unknown, but who
> ever he was, he deserves a medal as being the only city
> engineer in Italy who could run a street in a straight
> line for any distance, and make it wide enough for a
> street car line, a row of carriages at each side and side
> walks.
> Three hours after leaving Turin, we reached the north
> ern frontier of Italy at Modane, where we passed through
> 
> the customs ordeal for the tenth time since arriving in
> foreign lands. While some of the previous experiences
> had been sufficiently nerve-racking, they were as mild as
> a Sunday-school picnic compared with the struggle we
> 
> were   about to engage in.
> 
> [ 206 ]
> From Naples to Paris
> 
> At    eight-thirty the next morning we reached Paris,
> happy to be once more in the city of our heart's delight,
> but  exceedingly sorry that our stay must be limited to
> twenty-four hours. Much of this time was consumed in
> making our necessary arrangements, getting steamer
> and railroad tickets, so we had very little opportunity
> for sight-seeing, although we managed to slip away to
> the Madeleine and admire the wonderful statue of Joan
> of Arc once more.      We found it illuminated by the
> afternoon sun, which was streaming down on her up
> turned face.     The pure white marble had the color and
> warmth of life, and    was one of the most beautiful and
> 
> inspiring things we had seen on the whole trip!
> After visiting several hundreds of churches, mosques
> and shrines, we found a a thrill in the Madeleine, which
> we failed to get anywhere else. The atmosphere seemed
> charged with some powerful force, like the air of a
> cool, crisp morning when the earth is covered with
> snow,   and    our    nerves   tingled   as   when you enter the
> field of   a   powerful     electric machine.     Scattered about
> here and there knelt wives and mothers in deep mourn
> ing, pouring out their grief and seeking consolation
> from that Power that watches over the destinies of men
> and nations.     In   one   of the chapels a service
> beingwas
> 
> conducted;     women      in black continually going as
> were
> 
> others were coming to their devotions, and groups of
> strangers, like ourselves, were passing around noise
> lessly.
> Within these walls, which were originally intended as
> a temple of victory, the real spirit of victory had de-
> 
> [ 207 ]
> A Modern    Pilgrimage
> 
> scended, and we felt its invisible but actual    presence.
> Victory and Invincibility!
> With hearts full of   pity for the French people, who
> have suffered   sogreatly, we quietly withdrew, feeling
> that we had stood for a moment in a place where
> religion was deep and sincere.
> As we looked back for the last time, the sunlight was
> still streaming down on the beautiful upturned face of
> Joan of Arc, whose lips seemed to be repeating the
> words the angel had whispered to her, in the garden
> at Dom Remy    "La pitie qui estoit au royaume de France!"
> (Pity for the realm of France!)
> 
> [ 208 ]
> XXIX
> 
> A     Glimpse of Paris
> On the outbound part of our trip, we gave scant notice
> to Paris, hoping on our return to spend at least another
> week there; this was later reduced to two days, and
> finally dwindled down to twenty-four hours. But as a
> distinguished person once remarked, "The moving acci
> dent is not my trade," and certain steamers have a way
> of leaving at a certain time, and there was nothing to do
> but get aboard!
> Our short visit thus gave us the opportunity of visit
> ing only some of the most important places and that in
> a    hurried sort of way; yet a  description of even these
> could not be    compressed into    single chapter, and our
> a
> 
> first impulse is to pass the whole thing by, and con
> tinue on our way. On the other hand, it would hardly
> be fair to ignore the place that proved the most inter
> esting and attractive of all the famous places we visited;
> a place which I hope to see again some day, and in a
> 
> more leisurely way.    For if I should ever be permitted
> to take another trip, and could go to only one foreign
> 
> city, that city would be Paris! And this for the simple
> reason that almost everything that can be found else
> 
> where is found there, and if anyone is interested in art
> or architecture, or is simply looking for a good time,
> 
> there is   no   one   place in the world that has so much to
> offer.   And here      comes the great difficulty: while other
> 
> [ 209 ]
> A Modern   Pilgrimage
> 
> cities have certain outstanding attractions, in Paris there
> are  so many and varied things     of interest, that it is
> difficult to decide what to leave out and where to begin.
> For the firstday or so, one is apt to be content with
> wandering up and down the Boulevards, gazing into the
> shop windows, occasionally stopping to sit in front of
> some  cafe, and watching the endless flow of traffic,
> wondering why the women have so much beauty and
> charm, while the men seem so indifferent.
> After     getting     somewhat acclimated    and   having   ac
> 
> quired a little confidence, the next thing that suggests
> itself is   a   ride   motor-omnibus, of which there are
> on   a
> 
> nearly fifty lines, reaching to almost any part of Paris;
> through the Arch de Triomphe, and out into the solitude
> of the Bois de Boulogne a park of over two thousand
> acres, with winding roads, lakes and streams so nearly
> counterfeiting nature that you could hardly believe it
> to be the work of man.     Returning you can pass by
> the Trocadero, the Eifel Tower and the famous Champ
> de Mars.
> Starting from the terminus of St. Lazare on the Cein-
> ture railway, you can procure a Paris-a-Paris ticket and
> 
> in two hours encircle the city within the fortifications.
> In the evening, starting from the Place de la Concorde,
> in the center of which rises the Obelisk of Luxor (on
> the spot where the guillotine stood during the Reign of
> Terror), nothing could be more enjoyable than a walk
> of the
> along the banks of the Seine, past the garden
> Tuileries to the  Pont  des Arts, where, in moonlight, the
> best view of the Seine is obtained.   Then   crossing over
> 
> [210]
> A   Glimpse of Paris
> 
> to   the    Quai d'Orsay, back       to   the Pont Alexandre HI
> a    good    three-mile walk           give one a better
> which will
> idea of fairyland than any other one place in the world.
> As you pass the hazy and indistinct gardens, or stand
> on one of the bridges and gaze on the thousands of
> 
> colored lights reflected in the water, you cannot believe
> you are in the center of a city of nearly three million
> inhabitants.
> Certain     tourist     agencies     recommend      to   you    their
> "Driving Excursions"             "which enable visitors       to    see   as
> 
> much of Paris in two             days as they could otherwise see
> in   a     week."     Also     "to meet    the   wants   of those who
> 
> prefer      to take
> things       easily,"
> more   five-day itinerary
> a
> 
> is provided and you are finally informed that "if double
> this time is devoted to visiting Paris, so much the
> better."
> After putting in ten strenuous          days and nights at full
> for meals and    a very little sleep,
> speed, stopping only
> we    concluded that one to three months would be needed
> for a good general idea of Paris and its environs, and at
> least a year could be spent there, with the last months as
> fully occupied as the first.
> The most important public building and the one first
> visited      is the Louvre, which derives its name from an
> ancient       hunting chateau once situated here in the midst
> of    a              by wolves, and hence called Louverie.
> forest infested
> A week could be profitably spent in this immense build
> ing alone, as it contains the most complete collection of
> Egyptian specimens in Europe, an Assyrian museum,
> 
> [211]
> A Modern       Pilgrimage
> 
> Greek and Roman galleries (where the original Venus de Milo
> may be seen), and many other interesting departments.
> There are over two thousand pictures of the highest
> rank    on   exhibition, representing every school of paint
> ing    andincluding hundreds of famous works from the
> Marriage at Cana, the largest canvas in the Louvre
> measuring about twenty-two by thirty-two feet, down
> to the small but more famous Mona Lisa, once more hanging
> in its old place, a guard stationed at each door to see
> that it stays there.
> After gazing intently at a few hundred of these won
> derful paintings your neck and eyes ache and you wonder
> why the artists of olden times painted women and horses
> with such small heads and large, voluptuous bodies, and
> you are curious to know where Rubens could possibly
> have seen the originals of those infants and young girls
> of his, with their muscles developed like those of a
> prize fighter.
> Then       the    fact   dawns    on    you    that you     have   seen
> 
> and it is time to look at the
> enough art for one day
> blue   sky    or    something      else   for   a   change; then     you
> realize for the first time that you are very tired with
> so you hunt up a cafe
> so much walking and looking,
> 
> and order some ice cream    and cakes, only to find that
> in Paris ice cream has its season, like game and salads,
> and that in April glace is not to be had, but cafe au lait-
> patisserie? Oui, monsieur.
> that is to be        visited is   the   Grand
> The next          place
> theatre in the world, covering
> Opera House, the largest
> three  acres.  Between four and five
> an area of nearly
> 
> [212]
> A   Glimpse of Paris
> 
> hundred houses were demolished to provide the site, and
> over   nine millions of dollars   were   spent on the site and
> the   building.  In the interior the two striking features
> are   the grand  staircase and the grand foyer, neither of
> which has ever been surpassed.      The auditorium itself
> is very ornate and richly decorated, but occupies a rela
> tively small portion of the immense building, contain
> ing only a little over two thousand seats.
> Another surprise in this magnificent building is the
> arrangement of the cloak rooms and the sanitary quar
> ters which must have been left to the office boy, and a
> 
> very young and inexperienced one at that!       The archi
> tect's time was perhaps taken up in trying to please his
> Majesty, as you notice a circular ramp and elaborate
> porte cochere, by means of which the Emperor could
> drive into the Opera House in his coach and four, but
> unfortunately for him, when the building was completed,
> the Empire had become a thing of the past.
> Probably the next point of interest will be the Hotel
> des Invalides and the tomb of Napoleon.     This covers a
> site of thirty-one acres, and was originally intended for
> an old soldier's home, but only a few decayed veterans
> 
> are found there now, the place being occupied largely
> 
> by the war department and as a museum. The central
> part of the building consists of a church and the dome
> under which rests the sarcophagus of Napoleon I. Over
> the entrance to the vault is inscribed in French the fol
> lowing paragraph from his will:
> 
> "I desire that my ashes may rest        on   the banks
> 
> [213]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> of the Seine, in the midst of the French people whom
> I have loved so well."
> 
> The next historic   place to be visited is Notre Dame,
> one of the finest specimens of Gothic architecture to be
> 
> found in this land where this style originated and has
> been carried to its greatest perfection.
> A few steps away, on the highest ground in this part
> of the city, stands the Pantheon, another perfect speci
> men of architecture, but in the classic style.
> This build
> 
> ing occupies the site of the   tomb  of St. Genevieve, the
> used as a grand memo
> patron saint of Paris, and is now
> rial temple dedicated to the glory of the men of France,
> and filled with paintings, statues, tombs, etc.
> here are
> Among the many interesting frescoes
> of Arc, and
> Lenepvu's series illustrating the life of Joan
> here. In the
> her statue by Dubois has also been placed
> vaults* underneath are the tombs         of  Victor, Hugo,
> Voltaire, Rousseau,   Zola  and  many   other distinguished
> Frenchmen.
> du Luxem
> A short distance to the left is the Palais
> and   for many years
> bourg, built by Marie de Medici,
> used as the royal residence,     but  now   occupied by the
> of modern paintings,
> Senate. It also contains a gallery
> a sort of purgatory
> for the works of modern artists be
> the great masters
> fore they can hope to be hung among
> in the Louvre.    This because of a rule that the works
> into the Louvre until
> of painters are not admitted
> ten years after the artist's death,
> when, if the fact can
> dead and his picture is con-
> be established that he is still
> 
> [214]
> A   Glimpse of Paris
> 
> sidered worthy by the jury, the artist has reached the
> height    glory, although, unfortunately, he is not in a
> of
> condition to appreciate the fact.
> Returning to the main part of the city, the visitor
> the French
> passes the Palais de Vlnstitute, the home of
> whose        members   are known as the Les Im
> Academy,         forty
> mortals. Adjoining is the famous Ecole des Beaux Arts, the
> foremost school of painting, sculpture and architecture in the
> world.
> Crossing the Seine and passing through the gardens
> of the Tuileries (so called on account of the tile-kilns
> which     wereonce   located here), we reach the Rue de
> Rivoli, lined from   one  end to the other with hundreds of
> 
> jewelry stores.    A   short  distance away you enter the
> Rue de la Paix, the dressmakers' famous street, where
> 
> you note the establishments
> of Worth, Paquin and
> others,  where   the  fair sex  can,  for a large amount of
> 
> money,  acquire a small piece            of   goods attached to an
> expensive label.
> It is also worth while to visit the Grande Magazins du
> Louvre, the largest general store in Paris, where they
> not  only have reading and writing rooms and a buffet
> where refreshments are served gratis, but charming
> young ladies who have
> elevated salesmanship to a fine
> art.  It is certainly a pleasure to be relieved of your
> 
> money in such a delightful way,
> and you no longer won
> der that this store  has branches  all over Europe and in
> 
> Egypt.
> Next in         importance and      size is the world-famous Bon
> 
> Marche,       a   little   out   of the way, but somewhat   cheaper
> 
> [215]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> than the others; then finest of all the beautiful store
> with the flowery name, Au Printemps, a unique building in
> the Art Nouveau style, but very successfully done.
> In wandering around Paris it is well to keep in mind
> how            and with what ease a street will change
> frequently
> its   name    from time to time.        For    instance, you walk a
> few    blocks    on   the   Boulevard    des   Capucines,   and   sud
> 
> denly find it has changed to the Boulevard des Italiens, which
> in a few more blocks becomes Montmarte, then Poisonniere,
> and so on.       One street in the city is not satisfied until it has
> changed     its name  twenty-three  times, and by that time it is
> back to the place where it started.
> Although very fickle in the way of names, the
> streets
> for the reason that
> are   everywhere generously     lighted;
> from
> it pays to provide a city that will attract people
> for
> all parts of the world, who in the end not only pay
> as well.
> the lighting, but for many other things
> The   streets   are   also    liberally supplied with signs.
> would never know
> They have to be or otherwise you
> The gendarmes,
> when one left off and another began.
> who are as plentiful as priests
> in
> Rome,       always
> are           glad
> civilian answers  your
> to direct you; while the average
> and   polite   way.
> inquiries in a pleasant
> usually  first in the minds of those visit
> Lastly (but
> which the newcomer
> ing Paris), there is the night life,
> is to Paris anyway, and
> often believes is about all there
> If such is the case our visit
> must be seen by all means.
> as the Moulin Rouge,
> must have been a miserable failure,
> the Dead Rat, Black Cat
> and a few other notorious
> 
> places were  closed     shortly before our arrival. Whether
> up
> 
> [216 j
> A   Glimpse of Paris
> 
> this was done especially for our protection, or on account
> of the unpleasant notoriety given to them by certain
> movie stars who had preceded us, we did not take the
> trouble to inquire.
> What impressed us about the whole thing was that a
> mere handful of such places could acquire a world-wide
> 
> fame, and blacken the reputation of the whole city,
> which had permitted them to exist solely to amuse those
> visitors of depraved taste who craved such things, and
> would be satisfied with nothing else.
> But the heartless authorities have seen fit to douse the glim
> and stop the rotating arms of the Red Mill, and it is no longer
> apropos to speak of "gay Paree," which to many people
> nowadays seems about as lively as prohibition New York.
> The average, healthy-minded person, however, whose
> brains compare at all favorably with his pocketbook need
> not feel discouraged, as there is still much to see and
> 
> enjoy in this great and wonderful city.
> 
> [217]
> XXX
> 
> Playgrounds of Children and Kings
> Two of       ourmost charming days in Paris were spent
> outside the    city, which is a rather inexact way of put
> ting it, but they were spent in the banlieue or les environs de
> Paris, all of which means about the same thing, I take it, only
> a little more so.
> 
> At the time there was no idea of pointing any morals
> or adorning any tales; it just so happened that we went
> on a  certain Thursday to Robinson, and on the follow
> ing day (which this year came on Friday) we visited
> Versailles.   Naturally I knew of Versailles, without
> really knowing very much about it; but I had never
> heard of Robinson, which made our visit there all the
> more delightful, as it added surprise to pleasure.
> 
> We discovered this little place because Mrs. B was
> going to visit an uncle of hers who lived there, and not
> 
> wishing to lose the only woman in our party, we all pro
> ceeded    to   escort   her to   the home of her relative,      a
> 
> old artist who, like her father, specializes           in
> famous
> painting flowers.
> To reach this place we took the train to Sceaux,
> a
> 
> then      de
> distance of about seven miles from Paris,
> a
> 
> mile,   to
> lightful walk along the high road of nearly
> a
> 
> wooden
> where the road forks. And there stands a large
> and all, just as we
> effigy of Robinson Crusoe, umbrella
> us to his
> last remembered him, seeming to welcome
> 
> [218]
> Playgrounds of Children and Kings
> 
> home town.            In the
> background rises a high wooded
> hill and all around are playgrounds with swings, trapezes
> and all kinds of appliances for amusing the youngsters.
> Little  garden cafes, with platforms built among the
> branches of immense chestnut trees (some of them five
> stories high), cosy arbors, sheltered seats and grottoes,
> all form a picture that could have originated only in
> the mind of a Frenchman. One is apt to fancy that he
> has suddenly dropped into the favorite haunts of Perault,
> and    that        here   he     conceived     his    stories    of     Cinderella,
> Little Red          Riding       Hood and various other stories for
> children that have made him famous.
> As     our   visit was in
> February, most of the places were
> closed and we could only imagine what a gay place
> it would be in the summer season, especially on a Sunday
> or holiday, with its jolly crowds of children, attended
> 
> by mothers, nurses and governesses, flocking out from
> Paris to enjoy themselves in this shady nook of Fairy
> land     this immense stage with all the scenery and acces
> sories, even to the high, wooded hill in the background.
> No matter in what direction you looked, you found
> everything in harmony. The artistic spirit also extends
> to the village, where there are just the right kind of
> 
> houses, cozy little cottages with red tile roofs, little
> miniature chateaux which fit into the                         landscape admira
> bly.
> What        a    difference between this         quiet, pastoral scene,
> the    playground           of    childhood     and   innocence, and the
> one    on     which       we     gazed   the   following morning, as we
> entered     the      Ave.      de Paris and          looked    across    the   Place
> 
> [219]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> d'Armes at the Palace of Versailles!             All the bloody orgy
> of the French Revolution with its               Reign of Terror, all
> the reckless intrigue, extravagance and scandal that pre
> ceded the downfall of         royalty, rushed into         our    minds,
> for down this very street          on       which   we   were    walking
> came that infuriated mob,          composed largely of women
> armed with scissors, knives and pitchforks, and on the
> iron balcony at the center of the palace King Louis
> XVI appeared and agreed to return with them to Paris.
> After  gazing at this scene for a few minutes one is
> affected curiously, and is apt to make a rash resolution
> to reread all of Mulhbach's historical romances, especially
> Marie Antoinette and Her Son, as now it will seem more real.
> Since that wild day when the Royal Family moved
> slowly     and   sadly   towards      the    Tuileries   near   which    a
> 
> the spectators
> young sub-lieutenant, Napoleon, standing among
> exclaimed, "How is   this possible?  Has  the king no cannon
> to  destroy this canaille?" since that time this immense
> playground of the king has been deserted, and the palace
> uninhabited except       on occasions.
> state
> 
> As you pass the iron railing and enter the Court of
> Honor, you  face a colossal statue of Louis XV on
> the
> horseback, made of bronze cannon brought from
> of Dugueslin,
> Rhine, while on each side are large statues
> celebri
> Chevalier Bayard, Cardinal Richelieu and other
> ties of French history.
> of a
> The Palace is an immense affair, over one-third
> not
> mile long, built at different times, and represents
> but recalls
> only several different styles of architecture,
> some   of the most dramatic eras of French history.
> 
> [ 220 ]
> Playgrounds of Children and Kings
> 
> The central and oldest part, built of brick and stone,
> is the original chateau or hunting-box of Louis XIII;
> the adjoining wings were constructed by Louis XIV, who
> began to transform it into an immense palace; on the
> right Louis XV added a theatre and a chapel, while on
> the left a corresponding pavilion was added by Louis
> XVIII.
> We     are         originally the site of Versailles was
> told that
> for a town, and still less for a park, but
> hardly favorable
> that made little difference with the king, as he grew
> tired of living at St. Germain, looking continually at the
> burial place of his royal ancestors.
> Voltaire called the place "the abyss (politely speak
> ing)  of   expense," and it does somewhat resemble the
> bottomless    pit, as the palace and parks cost the enor
> mous     sum    of    over   one    hundred million         dollars,    at   a
> 
> time when millions           were   not   so   common       as   now,    and
> 
> the annual cost of maintenance                 was   over   five hundred
> 
> thousand dollars.
> The story of the erection of this sumptuous palace
> and the laying out of the grounds reads like a chapter
> from the Arabian Nights: thirty-six thousand men and
> six thousand horses were employed at one time in
> the park,
> building the terraces of the gardens, leveling
> the  wide boulevard to Paris (a distance of
> constructing
> ten miles), and building an aqueduct from Maintenon,
> monarch added
> thirty-one miles away. Each succeeding
> to the size and luxuriousness of the palace,
> until finally
> 
> it reached     a    length of over nineteen hundred feet, and
> could   easily accommodate ten thousand inmates.
> 
> [221]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Many historical events have been staged in the Palace
> of Versailles, among which was the signing of the treaty
> by which England recognized the independence of the
> United States in           1783.
> Six years later the Tiers Etat
> (The     Third Estate) began their sittings here, and took
> the  first step on the way to the Revolution by forming
> itself into a separate body called the Assemble Nation-
> ale.    In 1791 Louis XVI, the last             royal inmate, left there
> to     become    a   prisoner      in   the   Tuileries, and since that
> time it has been uninhabited. A few years later it was
> converted into a munition factory and in 1815 it was
> pillaged by the Prussians.
> In  1855 Queen Victoria was received there by
> the Ger
> Napoleon III, and in 1871 it was occupied by
> man     forces, and there King William of Prussia was pro
> claimed Emperor of Germany.       After the departure of
> of the
> the Germans, it became the seat of government
> Republic, and continued so until 1879.
> at Ver
> To detail all the events that have occurred
> to
> sailles would fill a large volume, so we will proceed
> enter  the Palace and briefly describe a few of the many
> interesting things it contains.
> and acres of
> After looking at hundreds of statues
> the salons of Venus,
> paintings, and passing through                            the   Galerie des
> into
> Diana, Mars, etc., you are usherd
> two hundred and thirty-five
> Glaces, a magnificent room
> feet long, thirty-five feet wide
> and forty-two feet high.
> 
> On    one   side    are  large arched windows over
> seventeen
> while on the opposite
> looking the park and gardens,
> number of immense beveled
> side of the room are an equal
> 
> [ 222 ]
> Playgrounds of Children and Kings
> 
> mirrors.        The walls     are of the finest marble, and the
> ceiling    is    richly   decorated with paintings and gilded
> stucco.  In this Hall of Mirrors the great Peace Con
> ference of 1919 was held, and you are shown the spot
> where President Wilson sat, and the positions of Clemen-
> ceau,   Lloyd-George and the German delegation.
> From this           room   you pass        on   to   the apartments         of
> Louis XIV, and are shown his bedroom, wig-room and
> bath, which by the way, does not show much wear, as
> the great king never used it but twice.   The second
> time was immediately after a hearty meal, and it made
> hisRoyal Highness so sick that he refused to dally with
> such new-fangled innovations any more!
> Next comes the grand apartments of the queen, the
> bed-chamber of Marie Antoinette, the hall of the Swiss
> Guards, and on through room after room, walls and
> ceilings        of   which   are   paintings, expensive
> filled   with
> 
> tapestries and elegant               One finally comes
> decorations.
> to the Galerie des Batailles, a magnificent hall nearly
> four hundred feet long, filled with immense paintings
> of   the        French   nation
> showing the military               successes
> 
> from the earliest times.             After gazing at so much decora
> tion and so many works of art, it is refreshing to step
> out on the terrace and look across the lawns and gar
> den called the Tapis Vert (green carpet), down the Grand
> Canal with its basins, its maze of walks with fountains, statu
> ary and shrubbery.
> walk of about
> Passing down the Allee de la                  Reine,     3.
> 
> three-quarters of a mile, you reach the Grand Trianon,
> built by Louis XIV for Madame de Maintenon, where
> 
> [ 223 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> he    was   fond of    coming and entertaining a select circle
> with dinners, balls, sports and comedies.  Beyond this
> are other gardens, beautiful with  cascades  and foun
> tains.                                Carriages, where
> You pass on to the Musuem of
> they     have   on   exhibition the state coaches of
> Napoleon,
> Charles X and others, besides the exquisite conveyances
> used by Marie Antoinette, Madame de Maintenon, Pom
> padour and others.
> Not far from the Musee des Voitures stands the Petit
> Trianon, built by Louis XV for Madame Du Barry, with
> its up-to-date dining-room, provided with a trapdoor
> through which the table appeared ready-laid. Adjoin
> the English
> ing is the famous garden planned out in
> rustic cottages
> style for Marie Antoinette, with its
> where  the queen and
> grouped around an artificial lake,
> court ladies played at the life of peasants.
> Here was
> the miller;
> the old mill, where the king acted the part of
> the dairy house, to which,     after the  queen and noble
> carried the milk in
> milkmaids had milked the cows, they
> it out in
> white buckets with silver handles and poured
> on tables of white marble.
> pretty white pans standing
> stands a lovely
> You cross a little rivulet, near which
> around lie the remains of
> Temple de V Amour, and all
> of the few years of
> the original garden to remind you
> the royal couple and then-
> idyllic life indulged in by
> court before the storm of
> the Revolution broke and
> 
> carried them all        to   the   guillotine.
> 
> [ 224 ]
> XXXI
> 
> From Paris to New York
> 
> On a certain Wednesday morning in April we set out
> rather earlier than usual,       our   minds confused with       con
> 
> trary feelings;    we   were    glad   to   be   entering upon the
> last lap of our journey to our native land,             and at the
> same time we were extremely sorry to be leaving Paris.
> 
> How we longed for another two or three weeks or
> months or even a year!    But it was no use, this was
> to be our last morning in Paris.
> The Gare St. Lazare stands immediately behind the
> Hotel   Terminus,     at   which
> we   were   stopping, a very
> satisfactory place, by the way,  first class, reasonable in
> price  and  very conveniently located.    So, after a short
> stroll and   a   little final   shopping,   we    secured   a   porter
> and started out in search of the    special boat-train for
> Cherbourg.   This  boat-train is chartered  by the steam
> and  afforded  us by long odds the most
> ship company
> comfortable railroading we experienced anywhere in
> Europe. At the gate you are told the car and com
> partment that has been assigned to you, and on reach
> ing them you find a large card hanging on the door
> with your name on it; meal tickets are also issued, giv
> ing you a reserved seat in the dining car at a certain
> time.   Everything works like a hundred dollar clock,
> and the train does not stop until you reach Cherbourg,
> a distance of two hundred and thirty miles, after a ride
> 
> [ 225 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> of six and   a   half hours.   And what        a   delightful ride it
> was! Green fields, flowers, fruit trees in bloom, all the
> charm of springtime in this beautiful section of France,
> which is like a continuous garden.            The roads, fields and
> forests   were         tidied-up; every tiny bit of land
> clean and
> was under cultivation and everybody busy.    After pass
> ing through the barren  lands of Palestine and Italy, the
> scenery of France seemed like          a    little Paradise.
> 
> Arriving at Cherbourg        we   found ourselves on a
> soon
> 
> tug steaming out to the big Olympic that lay in the
> outer harbor    the largest British steamer in His Maj
> esty's service. Never before did I fully realize the im
> mense size of a big ocean liner.   Our tug, which was no
> small affair, looked like a peanut shell as we came
> alongside with over eight hundred passengers and a
> train load of baggage.
> As     throughout   our      trip, the ocean was calm
> whole
> and the weather almost    uniformly delightful, except for
> a little rain and two days of heavy wind,
> which caused a
> little uneasiness among several of the passengers, espe
> cially poor Mr. B     who, having made up his mind that
> this would be his   last chance to get seasick, curled up
> in his    steamer   chair and felt      as   miserable   as   anyone
> could and still live.
> in a
> The seventh and last night out was wrapped
> cold and just after we  had
> heavy fog; the air grew icy
> horse-car
> turned in the engines slowed down to about
> were in the neighbor
> speed and suddenly stopped. We
> hood of icebergs, and the  temperature was headed for
> zero. Suddenly the thought dawned on us that it would
> 
> [ 226 ]
> From Paris to New York
> 
> be much          sensible to be up and dressed, in
> more                                       case   of
> an    emergency, and we began to wonder how                 long    a
> 
> person could live in that ice-cold water, in case we did
> collide with a berg. But it was so cosy and warm under
> the extra blankets that while             arguing the   matter   with
> ourselves, sleep overtook us and the next thing we heard
> was    loud rapping on our cabin door and a familiar
> a
> 
> voice saying, "Your bawth is ready, sir!" awoke us to
> the fact that the big boat was still safe and sound and
> we had enjoyed a good night's sleep besides.
> 
> Every evening during the voyage we had been treated
> to   some       sort of   festivities; a ball, vaudeville entertain
> ment, musical or concert.     But the last evening was
> the most festive of all, for at midnight the bar was to
> be closed, and like a modern disappearing bed,             no    trace
> of it would remain in the morning.
> At       seven   o'clock in the   morning we arrived at the
> Quarantine Station; the engines stopped, and everybody
> assumed an air of expectancy that they were forced to
> maintain for two mortal hours, waiting for the doctor
> to appear for inspection. Everybody grew impatient,
> disgusted and hungry (as breakfast is not served until
> after inspection) ; everybody, that is, except a few wise
> ones who had taken the precaution to have some refresh
> 
> ments         served in their cabins before the attendants lined
> up for   inspection.
> Finally the doctor arrived and we marched by him in
> single file, as he gave us one brief glance from head to
> foot to decide whether              or not we were infected with
> 
> cholera, typhus           or   any of the other ills which flesh is
> 
> [ 227 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> heir to.      We all marveled at the          sagacity of that repre
> sentative of the medical              profession, who could accom
> plish   so    much in        a    single glance; but were thankful
> that    one    look   was       sufficient, and hurried down to our
> belated breakfast.
> After another hour              or   so, the whir of        our engines in
> dicated       that    we   were        under     way,   and    presently the
> sky-line of New York City loomed up. The Goddess
> of Liberty. was standing in her accustomed place, hold
> ing her torch aloft to welcome us to the home of the
> brave and the land of prohibition all of which caused
> many caustic remarks from divers individuals
> who felt
> that the latest Constitutional Amendment   was doing
> them an untold injury.
> I will not attempt to describe our feelings as the im
> mense skyscrapers loomed up, the most impressive
> man-
> 
> made       panorama        in    the    world!     The    Singer Building,
> the       Woolworth      beautiful and
> (the   most
> the  Municipal,
> of others,
> perfect of its kind in existence), and hundreds
> too numerous to mention,    towered  up through     the smoke
> 
> and haze, gleaming in the noonday        sun.
> 
> A thousand vessels, ranging in size from huge ocean
> liners down to busy little tugs that swarmed in
> and out
> 
> of the harbor, and ferryboats like huge       shuttles  gliding
> forth         the   channel,  were coming and
> back   and        across
> after pier behind
> going on the Hudson. Leaving pier
> us, on past Jersey City,
> then  Hoboken, finally White
> Star Pier No. 60 loomed up, where after
> considerable
> came to a
> maneuvering and twisting about, our big ship
> and we moved down the gangplanks for our
> standstill,
> 
> [ 228 ]
> From Paris to New York
> 
> final customs examination.          Our    trip was nearly       over
> 
> and the return part of it was remarkable as it had been
> one   of the    quickest   on   record.    In thirteen
> days we
> had traveled from Cairo,Egypt,               City, and
> to New York
> had stopped over twenty-four hours in Paris and eight
> hours in Turin, Italy.
> "Impossible!" an old lady insisted on hearing our
> record.  "I have crossed the ocean twenty-six times,
> and have been around the world twice, and it can't be
> done in any such time as that !" yet there we were, able
> to answer to     roll-call; but when I assured her that in all
> our trip    I   had
> never been   seasick or missed a meal
> (when it was possible to get one), the old lady looked
> at me with a quizzical glance that indicated very plainly
> I   was   set down in   her estimation     as   a   lineal descendant
> of Baron Karl Friedrick          Hieronymus         von   Munchausen,
> and eligible to membership in a first-class Ananias Club.
> According to our Bradshaw we had traveled very close
> to six  thousand miles in those thirteen days, had crossed
> the   Atlantic   Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, and had
> been bumped around on six different railroads and passed
> the customs ordeal five times.        Quite enough excitement
> to crowd into less than two weeks!
> 
> [ 229 ]
> XXXII
> 
> Hints to Travelers
> 
> In order to set ourselvesright with the reader at the
> outset, we wish to warn him that the following chapter
> promises to be as interesting as Bradshaw's Book of
> Continental   Time    Tables,    or   a   page   selected at random
> Record.   It               to
> from   our    own    Congressional                       proposes
> full
> deal strictly with matters of business, to be packed
> of dry information, and show up in a state of actual
> whose
> nudity many facts invaluable to any tourist
> had
> knowledge of traveling is confinedas the writer's
> been for a number of years to a local ride in a jitney,
> or an occasional trip in a trolley
> car.   In addition to
> reader
> these few explanatory words we wish to warn the
> who has survived thus far that some of the following
> hints are not to be taken too seriously.
> first requisite,
> Before starting on a trip abroad, the
> of cash,  a passport   and a
> in addition to a liberal supply
> few other necessary incidentals to be
> mentioned later, is
> what we are often told a traveler
> no        longer requires
> namely,   a   knowledge    of     foreign languages, preferably
> and a smattering of
> French, German, Italian, Spanish
> are not
> Arabic. Gaelic, Greek, Russian and Chinese
> are not
> absolutely necessary,provided these countries
> confine your travels
> included in your itinerary, and you
> strictly to the following places:         England, where in some
> form of     English    is spoken; the beaten
> parts a modified
> 
> [ 230 ]
> Hints to Travelers
> 
> paths   of    France, where        some     of the   people   seem   to
> understand their     own  language when you speak it very
> slowly, with a     proper accompaniment of signs and ges
> tures; Italy, where you will always find porters and
> guides who assure you they understand French, English
> or almost any other language you may mention, but
> 
> nevertheless insist on using their native tongue, as it
> matches the scenery better; Egypt and Palestine, where
> a few simple Arabic phrases, sufficient to shoo off the
> 
> beggars and insistent natives, will be about all that is
> necessary.    Certainly a trip abroad can be made by a
> monoglot, but only after a fashion; and he must be
> satisfied to be put on reduced rations so far as pleasure
> and convenience       are   concerned.        He must expect em
> barrassments to       beseige      him without   ceasing, and the
> finer frills    of the  trip to continually eluding him.
> be
> It often occurred to            me          trip abroad
> that one's first
> is largely occupied with learning the game and finding
> out how he may exact some pleasure out of it should
> he ever go over the same ground again.       For, on the
> first trip, you never know what to expect, or when to
> expect it, or from what direction it is coming, which
> naturally gives you more or less of a thrill. You are
> kept in a state of suspense which, in the end, acts as a
> sort of halo to the remembrances of your trip.
> This glamour is lacking in your subsequent trips, un
> less the stage happens to have a new and different setting
> which is often the        case       and the program is rendered
> with    new    variations that     keep you guessing why things
> are   not    coming along    as    you were expecting them.
> 
> [231]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> To be      sure   there   are    a   number   of valuable   guide
> books to be had, which are filled with a mass of infor
> mation that may or may not have any bearing on your
> 
> problem. Your guide book, for instance, may tell you
> very   accurately  what to say to the cabman in order
> to engage   him,  and how to call the police should some
> difficulty arise between yourself and the cabman which
> This valuable
> you have just succeeded in engaging.
> information is followed     a splendid list of hotels and
> by
> existence,
> in
> pensions, many of which are no longer
> to be
> together with the rates which are supposed
> that
> charged, and which you will find are so reasonable
> the proprietors have long   since forgotten  them.    Then
> a chapter on art, ancient history, religion,
> you  are given
> there is
> and a list of health resorts and hospitals. But
> of that intimate information which would mean
> so
> none
> 
> much to you in the early springtime of your journey.
> are contemplating a
> So, for the benefit of those who
> the following hints are
> trip abroad for the first time,                         be
> offered, in the hope that some help may possibly
> derived therefrom by the uninitiated
> the  experienced
> needs   no coaching.    It should be
> traveler of   course
> 
> borne in mind, however, that
> these few simple sugges
> the help
> tions are not intended to entirely supplant
> more  than a
> offered by the regulation guide book, any
> with the necessity of a
> tube of tooth paste does away
> dentist they are merely supplementary.
> on the tact
> Sufficient emphasis is not usually placed
> to plan your trip carefully
> that it is absolutely essential
> most   minute details. In this
> in advance, down to the
> 
> [ 232 ]
> 
> Hints to Travelers
> 
> way you will have the   pleasure of planning many inter
> esting things which  you will never experience; but you
> will have had the pleasure of anticipation, anyway. The
> longer you think it over, the more enjoyment you will
> get out of the trip in this way, and if you can keep
> on thinking of little things that had not occurred to you
> 
> before, so much the better.
> I have known several very intelligent persons                who, in
> their spare moments, continued to plan a trip abroad for
> ten, twenty and even thirty years; finally, feeling that
> they had gone far enough, they decided to stay at home,
> and never regretted it!
> So, by all means, think it over the longer the better!
> But there is another method that is                    sometimes fol
> lowed,   that oftaking         the
> trip          thinking it over
> first and
> afterwards.        This
> happened, by   force  of circumstance,
> to be the one adopted by the writer, who ten days be
> fore starting had no more idea of going to Europe and
> the Orient than of joining a relief expedition to Mars
> in fact, he had definitely decided that his traveling days
> in this incarnation        were      practically over.
> The    advantage   be derived from this review-after-
> to
> 
> the-fact method is that you are absolutely free from all
> pre-conceived notions, prejudices or expectations, and
> soaks
> your mind, being, as it were, a blank, thoroughly
> in all impressions, and even if you miss many things
> that you should have seen, whatever you do happen to
> see   comes   as    a   fresh and      pleasant surprise.
> Take the customs, for example.    Each time you go
> 
> through that ordeal you realize that it is a matter you
> 
> [ 233 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> had never taken very      seriously before, and had no idea
> it could be served up in so many different and unattrac
> tive ways.   It had never entered your "stream of con
> sciousness" that   on   the   ordinary railroad trains on the
> Continent you are not supposed to require any nourish
> ment or a proper place to sleep. And so on, you keep
> 
> adding one experience to another, while one thrill keeps
> treading on the heels of its predecessor, as you maintain
> the more or less even tenor of your way.
> Many people make the serious mistake of          spending a
> great  deal of time in  reading up about a certain place
> or thing, raising their expectations to
> such a pitch that
> than they would have
> disappointed
> they  are even more
> 
> been if   they   had      absolutely nothing about it
> known
> in
> beforehand. After all, the joy of traveling is not
> is to
> what you see or where you go; the great thing
> wherever
> have the right kind of companions, who will go
> as long  as you  desire,  and   always
> you wish to go, stay
> the  rest  is
> do whatever you have in mind ; then                   easy.
> 
> As a matter   of fact, you might  be  in fairly   congenial
> at home, and possibly have just
> as
> company   and  stay
> But    if you   are
> much fun at a great deal less expense.
> soon discover one thing:
> actually on the trail, you will                               is
> that to travel alone or with uncongenial companions
> as whitewashing a barn
> or serv
> every bit as enjoyable
> ing a term on a Federal jury.
> about at the last
> Another important thing to think
> from experience
> moment is your baggage, and, speaking
> to take plenty of it, and
> I would strongly advise everyone
> different kinds and sizes of
> have it done up in as many
> 
> [234]
> Hints to Travelers
> 
> packages as possible  the more the merrier! A person
> who has not tried  it would  hardly believe what a joy
> it is to keep track of thirteen pieces of hand-luggage
> them all whenever
> every time you change cars, and open
> you pass through the customs.
> This                   is a serious problem, and I
> baggage question
> that   it
> found      from   repeated inquiry and observation
> has    still    not       been    solved.        It    does   not    seem    to    be
> or two
> definitely settled whether it is better to take one
> large trunks or an assorted  collection  of suit cases, bags,
> a few odd bundles of various shapes     and  sizes, including
> several hat boxes, preferably ones with vivid stripes.
> But     no     matter      which of these methods you adopt on
> next trip to try
> your first trip,           you will decide on the
> the other.
> Regarding       umbrellas          which are seldom needed but
> are    such     a    comfort to         carry around it is never
> wise
> 
> to                only one, as you are sure to lose it
> start out with
> hot, dry day, when you really didn't need
> to
> some
> of umbrellas, it  is
> have it along. In addition to a relay
> of
> advisable to carry a couple of typewriters,  as  one
> 
> overlook
> the important things that you cannot afford to
> letter
> is your correspondence, and to make an occasional
> to your friends at home,  what could  be  better
> legible
> than    a     typewriter?
> Absolutely essential are several pairs
> of   ordinary, in
> reason for more than
> expensive rubber goloshes the
> are usually kicked off
> one pair being that such things
> 
> under the          car   seat,   or   left in    some     corner,and, like the
> evanescent          umbrellas, have         a        confirmed habit of being
> 
> [ 235 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> always left behind. The same thing, with equal force,
> might be applied to a plurality of whisk-brooms, tooth
> brushes, bedroom slippers, etc., but none of these are
> quite on a par, or make as good a showing as an extra
> fur overcoat, a mackintosh    or a   bundle of steamer rugs.
> As to a collection of cameras, we will only mention them
> here as a valuable adjunct in connection with the fore
> going articles, all properly draped about your anatomy
> crowded gang
> you struggle and squeeze down
> as                                      a
> 
> plank, or try to  hoist yourself up the steep and narrow
> steps of a railroad car.
> All of which paraphernalia adds       to   the   picturesque-
> a certain
> ness of your appearance, and lends to you
> 
> amount of dignity as you flock   into  a  first-class  hotel,
> and attempt to fill out your registration blanks.
> mention is
> Another item we had almost forgotten to
> of          favorite   volumes
> a  package of bookssome          your
> which you love to dip into occasionally,
> and   by all
> a half-dozen or so of the very
> latest popular
> means
> to
> novels, and a few of the highest-priced magazines,
> on a high plane,
> show that, mentally, you are traveling
> to date.   This makes
> and a person who keeps strictly up
> a rather bulky package;
> but it serves an N. B. to all
> are independent of the
> excellent library on board
> that  you
> of books     is   offered
> the  ship, where a choice collection
> have the further and fre
> free of charge, and you will
> to every customs official
> quent pleasure of explaining                      with
> which you brought
> that these are your own books,
> etc.
> you from home
> for your own use on the trip,
> and unimportant details,
> Before getting down to small
> 
> [ 236 ]
> Hints to Travelers
> 
> we    must not overlook another vital matter an attitude
> of faith, to which should be added a certain amount of
> nerve.   If these two essentials are lacking your trip will
> as well for you to leave
> be    a   failure, and it would be
> bank at four percent, or take
> your money in the       savings
> a    chance in     promising oil stock, the prospectuses
> some
> 
> of which are enough to convince any credulous individual
> that the world is either full of optimists or apt disciples
> of Ananias.
> The novice who  packs his grip and starts to foreign
> lands is in practically the same condition as a brave
> and trustful couple who, in the face of everything, em
> bark on that supposedly "tranquil and placid matri
> monial sea, whose shores are fringed with midnight
> squills, squalls and paregoric trees!" He has no idea
> of the trials and tribulations that await him; but he is
> informed in due time that the law of compensation is
> at work here as everywhere else in the world, and he
> can  safelymake   up his mind that for every one pound of
> he  overtakes, at least sixteen ounces of grief
> pleasure
> must be passed through.
> After all, for a middle-aged or nervous individual,
> perhaps the safest and most comfortable and certainly
> the least expensive method of traveling is by the stere
> a book of explanations and
> oscope system, where, with
> a set of views, you can sit quietly at home
> and at your
> leisure see  many things  with  greater comfort and quite
> as much profit   as  you could  by crossing the  seas, and
> 
> following the average guide.
> Speaking of taking things leisurely brings up another
> 
> [ 237 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> point whether it is better for you to take your time
> when traveling and see a few places thoroughly, or rush
> along as if you were on your way to a fire. And here
> again tastes and opinions differ.
> After you have reached dry land, the quickest and
> decidedly the most expensive way is to jump into an
> automobile, tell the driver to step on the throttle, and
> do your    sight-seeing on the fly.   Of course, you go so
> rapidly that you are       not able to see things very dis
> 
> tinctly; but you can surely cover a lot of ground, and
> can honestly tell your friends that you saw such and
> 
> such a place without going too much into details.
> A cheaper and less nerve-racking way is to engage a
> rickety cab and an invalid horse that seems to know its
> driver is being paid by the hour, and why should it
> worry? In conclusion, there is the ancient and un
> fashionable practice of going on foot.
> Each of these methods has its own advantages and
> limitationsso that the whole thing is, perhaps, best
> the case.
> regulated by the time, place and nature of
> There are some places you cannot get through quickly
> well afford to linger
> enough, and others where you can
> the   course
> longer; anyway, after you have gone
> over
> 
> once    you   will know better what to do about it the next
> time.
> and your education is
> But after all is said and done,
> will probably feel
> rounded off by foreign travel, you
> with yourself, and come
> like holding a quiet pour parler
> finest place in which to spend
> to the conclusion that the
> is that certain parcel of land lying
> your declining years
> 
> [ 238 ]
> Hints to Travelers
> 
> between the Atlantic and Pacific, the Great Lakes and
> the Rio Grande a land where you can travel more than
> twice     the    distance   from    London   to   Naples   without
> being     once   haled into a
> dingy        customs   house, and with
> but   a   single change of cars!
> 
> [ 239 ]
> XXXIII
> 
> Transportation Problems
> Before administering the anesthetic and  proceeding to
> dissect      some    of the minor afflictions that
> dog the foot
> steps of the inexperienced traveler, we will  touch lightly
> on a few other topics that ought to be discussed some
> 
> where, and perhaps it would be as well to do it now!
> For, sooner or later, you will have to consider transpor
> tation problems, and decide when, and on what parts
> of the trip you will go by boat, train or airplane, or
> whether you will   finally decide to put on your slippers,
> light up your pipe and compromise on an imaginary trip
> in an overstuffed rocker by your own fireside.
> As you probe into this matter, you will find that
> much of it is not nearly so difficult as it appears at first
> glance; in fact, the very nature of the case often sug
> gests its own solution. In order to make a start and
> get into action, it is sometimes advisable to lay down
> a few hard and fast rules or first principles            anything
> to get at the subject in a logical way.
> As   a   broad and      general proposition, we believe that
> the best means of crossing the ocean or any other large
> body of water is by boat preferably by steamboat, and
> the larger the boat, the more expensive the passage. The
> next thing to decide is whether to go first, second or
> third class         the   distinguishing features of the different
> classes      being about as follows:
> 
> [ 240 ]
> Transportation Problems
> 
> Ingoing first class on a large boat you have the
> privilege of associating for at least seven days with a
> select class of people, many of whom will carefully refrain
> from cultivating your acquaintance.     There are always
> a few dukes, countesses and ultra-wealthy New Yorkers
> 
> aboard, whom you will never see, as they remain secluded
> in their luxurious parlor suites.     You will have the
> 
> opportunity of making     the acquaintance of a dozen or
> more ordinary human beings, whom you will find very
> 
> pleasant and agreeable.
> In the second class you will find the menu card is a
> little abbreviated, and passengers are supposed to fur
> nish their         own    music.        They are also expected           to   be
> more        sociable and         have    a   better time    than   the   first-
> class passengers provided they confine their efforts to
> a  certain restricted section of the boat. They are free
> to    talk, laugh, sing and give impromptu concerts, and
> to    get    as    seasick      as   any of the other passengers              at
> 
> exactly half the             price   of a first-class ticket.
> In the third class you have the privilege of mixing at
> close range with a lot of unpretentious people who are
> frequently referred to, in political campaign speeches, as
> the       "salt    of   the    earth," and among whom there is
> usually      a    number of       noisy and boisterous children, and
> one  or more kinds of contagious diseases.   The food in
> the third cabin is said to be poor and scanty, yet you
> will notice that nearly everyone is constantly eating.
> While        the   third-class
> passengers are more rigidly
> confined,         and in the most undesirable part of the boat,
> yet they have            a    little   longer stay on      board than any
> 
> [241]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> others, as their medical examination comes last. They
> are usually held in quarantine for a week or two, while
> 
> the other passengers are hurried off as quickly as pos
> sible, and sent on their way without this extra experience.
> One    thing      to     bear     in   mind    is    that   second-class
> accommodations              on   one    of the     large liners is equally
> as    good (at        least   our    waiter said      so), as a first-class
> passage on one of the smaller boats of from ten to
> fifteen thousand tons, although there is about two days
> less of it       on   a   large boat.        The small boats, particu
> larly in rough weather, have                 amuch wider latitude and
> longitude of motion than the larger vessels, and a pas
> senger on a small boat can reasonably expect everybody
> on board to be as seasick as he is himself, and there is
> no small amount of comfort in that one thought alone.
> 
> Before   coming to          a   definite decision in this matter,
> however, you should not fail to ponder over the name
> of your vessel, if by chance you should be partial to
> names,       happen to be a little superstitious, or for
> or
> 
> patriotic, religious or other reasons have any particular
> preference in the matter.
> After revolving these matters in your mind for a few
> weeks and being unable to come to any conclusion, the
> only sensible thing to do is count your cash a couple
> of times, decide the date you wish to sail, look up some
> responsible booking agency, and let the clerk pick out
> your steamer and fix up your tickets, while you merely
> hand over the proper amount of cash, and forget all
> about it.
> And   now    you     are    almost started          provided you have
> 
> [ 242 ]
> Transportation Problems
> 
> secured   a   clearance    from     the   income   tax   collector,   a
> 
> if
> sailing permit, and most important of all passport,
> a
> 
> to  be an American citizen.   This may intro
> you happen
> in
> duce another chance for a few unhappy moments,
> case you happened to have been born
> a good many years
> and  out  in  some rural district, where they
> don't
> ago,
> know what     birth certificate looks like.
> a                           Nevertheless,
> certain facts must be shown     to the satisfaction of the
> 
> State Department at Washington ; first,     that you were
> and         that
> second,        were born somewhere in the
> born,                         you
> United States of America, and these claims must be prop
> erly substantiated by a birth certificate which probably
> never   existed.
> In such     a   case, the   family doctor can be appealed to,
> and
> the one who attended that first important function
> remembers all the requisite details. But if that worthy
> has long since hung up his saddle-bags and passed
> on
> 
> together with most of  his
> to the happy hunting ground,
> knew you in your ex
> patients and everyone else who
> have the final recourse of looking
> treme youth, then you
> has known you intimately for the last
> up someone who
> to
> fifteen years, and can swear that you are not trying
> leave the country on account of some crime, or
> for other
> to mention  some   of your
> sinister purposes, not forgetting
> habits and a few other personal traits that  occur to
> good
> him.   Armed with this evidence, legally acknowledged,
> together with an affidavit of your own, explaining why
> entitled to a passport, and accom
> you think you are
> friend to swear that you
> panied by a prominent personal
> are the identical person who
> made the affidavit and the
> 
> [243]
> A Modern      Pilgrimage
> 
> selfsame individual who is desirous of             securing a pass
> port, you visit your local Consul,            lay down ten dollars
> and ninety cents, and are told to             come      back in twenty
> days.
> The next       move   before     leaving New York,             or   what
> everport you have decided to sail from, is to visit the
> Consuls of the different countries which you expect to
> visit, and these gentlemen will               for   a   matter    of any
> where    from     two   and   a   half   to   five dollars   visk your
> passport.  This operation is effected with a rubber
> stamp, and is an indication to all the world that, so far
> as these gentlemen are concerned, you are at liberty to
> go ahead and use the ticket you have already bought
> and paid for.
> All that remains    now is to be on hand at the proper
> 
> pier,   on a   certain day, at least two hours before the time
> of sailing, pass through the customs house, leave your
> sailing permit and trip up the gangplank.
> Of course the steamer does not sail at the hour speci
> fied, but is liable to do so anywhere from three to
> four hours later; but you are there anyway, and can fill
> in the time by waving your handkerchief indiscrimi
> nately at the crowds of people who, having come down
> with baskets of fruit and flowers, now line the end of
> the pier waiting to see someone else off. This makes
> no particular difference, however, as no one knows to
> 
> whom you are waving, and your departure becomes just
> so   much     heart-rending the longer and more vigor
> more
> 
> ously the performance is kept up. After a few hours
> of frantic waving you are ready to heave a sigh of
> 
> [ 244 ]
> Transportation Problems
> 
> the
> relief when the            big boat finally pushes away from
> pier.
> that
> When you arrive in London in case you go to
> in   few days,
> city you will probably decide to move on     a
> 
> should it happen the weather is chronically rainy
> or
> 
> On          a few inquiries you learn there  are
> foggy.              making
> several ways of reaching Paris, and that the quickest
> and most expensive is by air. By a little mental calcu
> lation, you find it only costs one-third as much by train,
> and you have over five hours longer to ride; so, if you
> look at it in the same manner as a Chinaman buying his
> for the
> high boots, getting the largest pair he could
> least money, you will probably go by train.     If you do,
> be sure to secure your reservations in advance, as other
> wise               will    probably    have   the    option      of    standing
> you
> from      Calais     to    Paris;    or   waiting   for   the    next       slow
> hours      later.
> train, which will land you there several
> Before taking either one of these trains, you will do
> well to remember that neither of them has a dining car
> or stops for meals, and unless you are anxious to
> reach
> Paris in a famished condition, you will provide yourself
> with  a well-filled lunch basket.
> 
> Another very important thing, although we are rather
> late in mentioning it, is how to best carry your money
> en     route.     As it is unwise and          inconvenient,         as   well   as
> 
> unsafe, to carry a large sum of money on your person,
> even     in   a   money-belt, for which you are often searched
> on  the frontiers, it is customary to have either a letter
> of credit, or some form of traveler's checks, often spelled
> "cheques."     But the spelling will make no particular
> 
> [ 245 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> difference, as no matter how they are spelled, you will
> experience no difficulty in making them disappear even
> more  rapidly than you had expected and dreaded. The
> hotel-keepers seem particularly fond of them, and have
> no hesitation in accepting them in any amount.
> 
> In addition, your pockets should always be filled with
> the small change of the particular country through which
> you are passing.
> After you have settled on how best to carry the bulk
> of your wealth, it is well to learn the value of the dif
> ferent coins which are passed out to you and which you
> must    in turn speedily pass out again in the different
> countries through which you journey.
> Perhaps the greatest difficulty in this respect is met
> with in England, where pounds, shillings, pence, bobs,
> guineas and sovereigns require a slide-rule or a good-
> sized sheet of paper and pencil to figure up the price of a
> meal or total a few purchases at an ordinary store. It is
> also confusing to see articles priced at so many guineas
> and find that there     are    such coins in existence, and
> no
> 
> that it is just a little pleasantry on the part of the mer
> chant, who expects you to convert this price into some
> other denomination which is in circulation. The English
> custom of varying the size of the bank notes according
> to their value is another cause of confusion.
> On the Continent, matters of exchange are much less
> complicated, as the decimal system is used, and you are
> told   that   in   France, Belgium, Switzerland, Italy and
> Greece,    five franc   pieces   are   legal   tender   everywhere.
> This greatly simplifies matters.
> 
> [246]
> Transportation Problems
> 
> French, Belgian and Swiss small silver coins are sup
> but not the copper or
> posed to pass indiscriminately,
> nickel    centimes.     These        small   silver coins have tem
> 
> porarily retired,       and   left    the    field    open to torn and
> less consoling to
> dirty paper money, which is              more        or
> 
> are spending real money,
> you, as you do not realize you
> but are merely parting with something which you are
> very glad to get rid of.   The smaller Italian coins are
> 
> good  only in their own country, and it is well to remem
> ber that      on   the northern border of            Italy you are intro
> duced to a wonderful output of some of the best printing
> has no intrinsic
> presses of Europe. Unfortunately, this
> value, unless it can be slipped in by  some  unscrupulous
> when   making    change, otherwise it is used for
> person
> labels for beer bottles, etc.
> I was about to advise the necessity of looking up the
> official regulations as to the amount of money a traveler
> is allowed to have on his person when passing a frontier;
> but     on        thought this is hardly necessary, as a
> second
> little co-operation on the part of the hotel and shop
> keepers and souvenir venders will arrange all this, so
> that you will be lucky to reach the border with enough
> change left to pay your porter and the customs dues.
> No matter where or how you are traveling in Europe,
> whether by train, subway or street cars, you will still
> be    confronted      with   the     first, second and third class
> systems,    problem
> a              on     which you have
> already been
> obliged    spend
> to  some  thoughtful moments.
> 
> On the ordinary railroad trains even first-class service
> will appeal to you as being none too good, especially in
> 
> [247]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Italy, where vacuum cleaning and disinfection seems to
> be unknown   or   taboo.
> While it is advisable to provide yourself with soap,
> towels and other toiletconveniences, it is hardly worth
> while to bother about sanitary drinking cups, owing to
> the fact that there is     neverany ice water on the trains
> and the   ordinary supply     of un-iced water is generally
> used up before you have time to develop a thirst.
> No one wishes to find fault or unduly criticize the
> peculiar customs of foreign lands. This would be de
> cidedly ungracious, reflecting on the traveler's good
> sense, as the purpose of his trip is to come in contact
> with unusual and different phases of life. But in taking
> a snapshot it is impossible to eliminate a few unattractive
> 
> objects that have a tendency to mar the artistic effect
> of an otherwise pleasing picture, and so in traveling on
> the railroads in Europe, you feel that you have suffered
> a degree of discomfort which makes a word or two re
> 
> garding the aversion of the natives to fresh air excusable.
> Especially on a very hot day, the cars are all her
> metically sealed, as open windows cause draughts, which
> are  conducive to colds, pneumonia and other deadly
> diseases that Americans know nothing about!
> For this reason, if for no other, you are happy to
> reach Venice, step into a gondola and glide away over
> the   Grand Canal and other waterways.      At last you
> have found a kind of transportation which is romantic,
> ideal, soothing, perfect. You are unable to find a flaw
> anywhere   in the system, until you lean out to inhale a
> breath of the     glorious air, when,   whew! the odor of
> 
> [ 248 ]
> Transportation Problems
> 
> decaying vegetables floating on the water, the aroma of
> sewage and other uncatalogued odors              you to
> causes
> 
> hastily cover your nostrils and  reach for  the smelling
> salts.
> Having become thoroughly familiar with the intricacies
> and inconveniences of all the modes of transportaion
> common to Europe, you will be ready, by the time you
> 
> reach Egypt, to hunt up some picturesque old camel,
> and take a few lessons in a kind of locomotion which is
> in a class all by itself.
> You will find a drove of camels           lying in wait for you,
> in the shade         of   the lebbakh trees at the end of       the
> avenue, just before you reach the Pyramids of Gizeh.
> No sooner have you posed as an expert and picked out
> your      favorite    animal,   than begins to snarl and
> he
> 
> grumble, exhibiting signs of a horribly mean disposition,
> as if trying to frighten you into changing your mind and
> 
> picking on one of the other brutes. If you persist in
> sticking to your first choice, and climb on board, he
> emits growls more savage than ever, and shows symp
> toms of hydrophobia.        Then you notice that he is
> horribly filthy, and   rich in unsavory odors, and just as
> you are about to climb off, he rears up on his front feet.
> You lean forward and hang to the saddle-horn for sup
> port, when, without warning, the other end of the
> animal elevates itself, and you nearly take another trip
> through space in the opposite direction. In the mean
> time the onlookers have had            a    good laugh at you, and
> everybody, except your disgruntled camel and yourself,
> has      enjoyed seeing you flounder around to keep from
> 
> [ 249 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> turning a somersault onto the boulevard in front of you,
> or landing in a bunch of "tules" in a ravine a dozen
> 
> yards behind you. All the other camels have by this
> time joined in a sort of Anvil Chorus, and a few donkeys
> have set up a vociferous braying, and you feel thoroughly
> ashamed of yourself for having stirred up all this com
> motion.
> Finally, your "ship of the desert" becomes reconciled,
> and starts off   on an easy, slouching gait, and the con
> 
> ditions become favorable for a little romantic meditation.
> You think of all the wonderful        people who have econ
> omized     gasoline and motored around in this fashion
> on
> 
> since Father Noah coaxed     a couple  of these animals
> down the gangplank; you think of the romance of the
> desert and dream of the poetic glamor of the caravan
> and "the tinkling of the camel's bell!" By and by you
> take a look at the dirty animal on which you are riding,
> inhale a whiff or two of its powerful odor, and come
> to the conclusion that the camel is much more attractive
> in picture and story than it is in real life another case
> where distance lends enchantment, and familiarity breeds
> once in
> a query: Why don't they disinfect these camels
> a while?
> 
> As you return from the Pyramids the accommodating
> driver, wishing to introduce you to the final thrill, urges
> This      automatically
> your unwilling beast into a trot.
> recalls to your mind the fact that       a   caravan   camel is
> 
> regarded as a poor investment,  they
> as    good for only
> are
> 
> three or four years; you wonder why they do not jolt
> themselves to pieces much sooner than that, and con-
> 
> [ 250 ]
> Transportation Problems
> 
> elude that the       only reason is that they seldom   go   on
> 
> a   trot.
> Your    final   thrill       disembarking, when it
> comes   on
> 
> behooves you to be vigilant again, watch which end of
> your camel drops first, and brace yourself accordingly,
> otherwise you still have a chance of soaring off on an
> unexpected tangent. But no matter one should not
> find fault or utter a word of complaint; for it was for
> these very things you took a trip abroad: to come in
> contact with unfamiliar experiences, and otherwise have
> a glorious time!
> 
> [251]
> XXXIV
> 
> Dress, Tips and Guides
> The           problems of transportation and other
> various
> vexing questions having been already (happily, we
> hope!) disposed of, we will proceed to other matters.
> Of course, it would add greatly to one's comfort if
> everything could be fully settled beforehand, but such
> complete anticipation of trouble is not always possible
> nor   desirable.
> But   sooner    or   later you must devote   some   thought
> to your raiment.
> Whentraveling, the matter of dress may be roughly
> said to be contingent on several established facts;
> whether you are traveling first, second or third class;
> whether you are married or single, and, if married,
> whether you happen to be on your honeymoon, or
> quietly celebrating your fortieth or more anniversary.
> Some regard is also due to your social standing, and
> how many stars are attached to your rating in Dun's
> or    Bradstreet's.
> Regarding how to dress when traveling on the Conti
> nent, there is a wide diversity of opinion. Many people
> index of
> prefer to make their personal appearance an
> their bank account, provided it is a fancy one, expecting
> thereby to attract more attention, secure better service,
> and make a much larger splash in the social puddle.
> On the other hand, plain clothing, even bordering on the
> 
> [ 252 ]
> Dress, Tips and Guides
> 
> smooth and shiny stage, has its advantages, as the more
> prosperous you look and the              more   expensive your lug
> gage    is, the    more    apt you   are   to   attract some light-
> 
> fingered pickpocket, or become the target of one of the
> Band of International Thieves, who will track you to
> your hotel, and later call, during your absence, and
> rifle your high-priced luggage.  A shabby                   purse   has
> 
> discouraged many an observant crook.
> But to get back to the matter of dress as tastes and
> inclinations, as well as the allowances available for this
> purpose vary so widely with different persons, it is per
> haps as well to settle the matter by letting the last word
> be    spoken by the interested party himself or herself, as
> the case may be, and pass on to other equally perplexing
> topics. In this way we will save ourselves the humilia
> tion of offering advice which no one would follow any
> way, and also escape the imprecations that would be
> heaped upon our heads by anyone who might literally
> follow    our    directions.
> Without question, the one real and vital problem that
> confronts you, stands at your elbow, and assails you
> from the rear, in every country, and at every turn, is
> what, when and how much to scatter around in "tips."
> One thing you may as well admit first as last. Namely,
> that it is the custom, and that when you are in Rome, it
> is wise to do       as   the Romans       at least in so far as     tips
> are    concerned!
> That this    source   of grief is   more   real than   imaginary
> is shown by the fact that many tender-hearted landlords
> are coming to the rescue, so that in almost every city
> 
> [ 253 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> you    can   find hotels in which     employes are forbidden to
> accept tips, and the guests are requested not to offer
> any as the management intends when you leave to add
> ten   percent to your bill for service. At the Swiss hotels
> they are especially solicitous for you to have real good
> service, so they make it fifteen percent.
> Unfortunately, there is a suspicion that little or none
> of this surplusage ever reaches its alleged destination,
> and is only a convenient method of increasing your hotel
> bill, and making you realize more keenly than ever what
> a   wonderful time you have had!
> Nevertheless, this no-tip system robs your trip of                 a
> 
> well as more    less aggrava
> great deal of charm         as                       or
> 
> tion     and your departure       is tame compared with what it
> is in hotels where       tipping is still in vogue.
> Say what you will, there is a decided thrill in seeing
> of    servants    line        to   bid   you
> a     good-sized squad                               up
> Adieu!many          of   whom   you        have   never   seen   before.
> 
> You have       no   idea of their rank       or calling, or the size
> of their expectations; added to              this your uncertainty
> as to the value of the strange
> coins you are passing out,
> and the feeling that you   are  giving the right amounts
> are making a
> to the wrong persons, you realize you
> mess of it, and rush along
> the line, making still more
> who opens the
> blunders, until you reach the little slave
> door for you, and who has smiled    and  saluted you regu
> have  been  there.  In despera
> larly every morning   you
> have left,
> tion you hand him all the small change you
> the taxi-starter
> without stopping to think of the concierge
> or
> 
> outside !
> 
> [ 254 ]
> Dress, Tips and Guides
> 
> After   jumping into the taxi and wiping your perspir
> ing brow, you feel relieved to think it is all over. But
> presently you wonder why you are not moving, and on
> making inquiries in vain from the cabman (who has not
> gotten his yet), and the starter (whom you have over
> looked and who has suddenly lost all interest in you),
> you finally appeal to the concierge (who mumbles and
> seems very downhearted), and finally the light dawns
> 
> upon you.   You have left nothing for the elevator man
> in the back hall and the two porters who are to bring
> down your luggage, and the cabman does not wish to
> go without your luggage     that would never do!
> So you furiously hasten to buy or borrow more
> change, and properly salve the injured parties, slipping
> the cabman a few in advance, begging him to hurry
> lest you miss your train.
> And so it goes, like a serial story in a daily news
> paper it occurs regularly and continues from day to
> day. But, after all, when you get accustomed to the
> tipping habit, and have learned the game, you grow
> to like it, and there is no denying the fact that you get
> better and more painstaking service where you pay-
> when-you-go. The American tip-as-you-go kind of serv
> ice is spasmodic, and there is not the same feeling of
> being properly and continually cared for, as under the
> European system; but of course everyone is entitled to
> his own preference.
> And now we approach one of the great joys of travel
> ing the guide! A joy forever, though not necessarily
> a thing of beauty.
> 
> [ 255 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> Naturally, there are many kinds of guides, and in
> choosing one many considerations bob up to influence
> your decision.  You may feel sympathetic, and take an
> old reprobate, or one who is crippled, and cannot get
> over the ground very well.   Or you may pick a later
> model, whose swagger air will lend a little class to your
> entourage. But no matter whom you select or whether
> .
> 
> he has   alittle if any real knowledge, provided he has
> a vivid imagination, and can answer questions promptly
> 
> and furnish you with a mass of details, you will feel
> that you are being properly conducted.
> In the United States it is customary for a man who
> 
> "gone broke" or is a general, all-around failure,
> has                                                           to
> 
> become a painter or drive a hack.        But in Europe, he
> launches out as a first-class guide,  and  becomes a choice
> mine of misinformation! When his knowledge becomes
> hazy, he suddenly fails to understand your language;
> lead you
> but, in spite of all his failings, he can usually
> to the places you wish to visit, or to
> others just as good
> else
> if not better, and when at a loss to do anything
> can take you an incredibly long
> distance to see the tomb
> illustrious            of whom   you   have   never
> of    some                 person
> heard.
> earmarks of a good
> Perhaps one of the most reliable
> remind you not to hurry him
> guide is a slight limp, to
> the hour, he prefers
> around too lively. Being paid by
> as to bring you back
> to the
> taking things leisurely, so
> same place tomorrow to
> finish up a few odd things that
> well have seen today.    Altogether, he is
> you could as
> on the front seat of the
> never so happy as when sitting
> 
> [256]
> Dress, Tips and Guides
> 
> cab and   conversing with the driver, as you trail back
> and forth   across the city, past the various objects of
> 
> interest which, unless continually reminded, he fails to
> point out to you.
> It adds a touch of piquancy to have your guide under
> stand very little English usually he professes to know
> this language very well, but as soon as you have engaged
> him, he suffers a severe attack of aphasia, so that his
> answers fail to co-ordinate with your questions and there
> 
> is a general vagueness to his conversation, which helps
> to keep you in a delightful state of suspense.  The only
> safe and satisfactory thing to do is to follow along and
> keep on asking foolish and irrelevant questions, to which
> you get equally immaterial and unintelligible answers.
> This shows him that you are alive and interested, and
> does not prevent you from referring to your guide
> book from time to           time, when you        want   any real in
> formation.
> In   Rome,    no   matter   what the nature of      our   inquiry,
> we were     always told that it "dated back to the Sixteenth
> Century, and all the new churches were built with mate
> rials taken from the old ones"              and after a while we got
> so    we   believed it!
> Once, however, as we were stand
> ing in the piazza of St. John Lateran, and noticed a high
> 
> bridge that appeared, from where we stood, to connect
> the Vatican with the dome of St. Peter's, our guide
> varied the monotony by explaining that this bridge was
> used by the Pope, on very special occasions, to go from
> his apartments directly to the big church.
> The    next    day,   when    in   the    neighborhood    of   St.
> 
> [ 257 ]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> Peter's, we called his attention to the fact that this
> bridge was several miles beyond the Vatican and in
> quired whether the Pope jumped onto that bridge or
> used      an    airplane.    poor guide became imme
> But   our
> 
> diately afflicted with a sudden  attack of sensory and
> amnesic aphasia, which was both painless and pathetic!
> Anyway, a guide is invaluable to show you the lay of
> the land, and entertain you in his own inimitable way.
> But the real sport comes a few days later when you
> poke around by yourself through the unfamiliar streets
> and allow your mind to become filled with all kinds of
> wonder.   In Rome, for instance, you wonder why on
> tied
> Sunday morning old women with bunches of twigs
> to    a               street-sweeping; you try to count
> stick do all the
> up all the religious
> confraternities that are continually
> of their
> parading the streets and marvel at the variety
> all the other
> headgear; then you try to figure out why
> in
> able-bodied men in Rome are marching around town
> There are thousands of things at
> soldier's uniform.
> which you   can  wonder!
> of guides
> A great deal more might be said on the subject
> for you
> without much danger of making it any clearer,
> can never see the guide industry
> in all its glory until
> and have to explain to every other
> you reach Cairo,
> man you meet on the Opera
> House Square that you
> in need of a
> not                    These tactics have the
> guide.
> are
> the relief is only
> desired effect for the time being, but
> temporary, and unless you
> are accompanied by a guide,
> will        the next day and every day
> happen
> the same         thing
> as    long as you stay in that city.
> 
> [ 258 ]
> Dress, Tips and Guides
> 
> Fortunately,   the guides in Cairo are rather better
> than the average guide on the Continent. They under
> stand the rudiments of the English language and are
> to
> proficient in the gentle art of conducting a stranger
> as  foul and ill-smelling bazaars as you  could  hope to
> find anywhere in the world.     They also seem  to know
> 
> intuitively all the spots where fake fortune-tellers are
> that
> lying in wait to reveal to you all the good things
> the fickle goddess  has been holding back from   you.
> At first you will probably be more or less disgusted
> by the filth and odors; but never mind! In a few days
> transformation
> your whole nature seems to undergo
> a
> 
> and you will become fond of the very   things that for
> merly filled you with  a   kind of   nauseadisgust. The
> and
> 
> longer you stay, the more you will be fascinated by the
> place and its strange combination of Oriental and Occi
> dental life and customs.   You will find that Cairo, next
> to Paris, is the one city that never loses its charm, and
> 
> that it has a way of presenting the kaleidoscope of life
> in such a variety of sparkling colors that the eye never
> grows weary or the mind satiated.
> If the foregoing directions are carefully       followed, your
> trip should have a lasting    and
> living meaning to you
> instead of having been an idle waste of legal tender.
> It is with this hope that the above hints have been
> thrown out, in a careless sort of way, and we trust they
> will not meet the ordinary fate of bread cast on the
> waters; but that, instead of becoming mouldy they may
> emit a phosphorescent glow to light the footsteps of the
> traveler through some of the dark and perplexing prob
> lems that might otherwise cast a gloom over his
> 
> pathway.
> [ 259 ]
> XXXV
> 
> The End of the Trail
> 
> In   coming to this, the final chapter of our story, we
> find it the most difficult of all to get under way, and for
> a variety of reasons.  Perhaps it is because we are nearer
> home, and things, being familiar to everyone, are more
> easily checked up, or because they are on this account
> less interesting.
> It is also difficult, after rambling along so far and for
> such a long time, to know when, where and how to
> come to a sudden stop.        Everyone has, perhaps, noticed
> is
> how easy it is to start something, but how difficult it
> to bring it to a satisfactory and successful completion.
> In addition to all the other handicaps, it is never easy
> and before
> or  pleasant to say "Good-bye" gracefully,
> the hope that
> coming to that point I wish to express
> our rambles
> all and sundry who may have followed
> of the
> from chapter to chapter have received something
> that the writer experienced
> pleasure in reading of them
> in attempting to record  them.
> With these preliminaries, we will proceed      ring up
> to
> 
> the few   details
> the curtain and adjust the spotlight
> on
> 
> in the main tent, as
> which will conclude the performance
> taken in among the
> well as the digressions we have
> sideshows.                                             .
> 
> in the
> A few chapters ago, I left myself standing
> for some
> customs  house at New York, where I remained
> 
> [ 260 ]
> The End of the Trail
> 
> time waiting for my last suit case to be brought ashore,
> before calling an inspector.
> Having heard many weird stories about the rigid ex
> amination and how many people return by way of
> Montreal to avoid it, I was naturally rather nervous,
> and wondered how long it would take, and whether I
> could ever get all the junk back into my suit cases again.
> But I was somewhat relieved and felt my troubles were
> insignificant when my good-looking neighbor remarked
> that she had sixteen mammoth trunks to open up and
> had lost her husband in addition, who had not entirely
> recovered from "celebrating his liberty" the night before
> before the bar           room     closed!      But fortune, who had
> been with      us   more     than    once   on   the trip, smiled again
> and in    a   few minutes all        was    over   and
> rollingwe   were
> 
> away to our hotel      Washington Square.
> on
> 
> The air was balmy, the trees just putting forth their
> leaves, and for a moment we imagined we were back in
> France again.   But only for a moment, as a block from
> the hotel, Fifth Avenue begins and the tall skyscrapers
> loom up on all sides, so there was no doubt that we
> were in the great and only city of its kind in the
> world.
> For several  days our time was put in making com
> parisons; especially we commented on the wide, clean
> streets   with      real    sidewalks, the brisk, clean-cut and
> highly    decorated        people on the streets         a    composite of
> all the races in the world.           We noted the lack of Oriental
> odors, and finally          came     to   the matter of architecture.
> While forced to admit that many of the                   buildings, even
> 
> [261]
> A Modem Pilgrimage
> 
> on    the    prominent streets, were very commonplace, and
> could       make no pretentions to beauty or good design,
> yet here and there one would strike you like a burst
> of sunlight through a cloudy sky. Of course, everyone
> does not go to New York to study architecture, and there
> are    many other     thingskeep the visitors interested.
> to
> 
> growing weary parading up and down Fifth
> After
> Avenue, gazing into the magnificent shop windows, and
> taking an occasional squint at the magnificent shoppers,
> we  took a jaunt on top of one of the busses out River
> side Drive, past General Grant's tomb and on, seem
> ingly half way to Albany or in hailing distance of Fort Ti-
> conderoga.
> Unfortunately the third day after our arrival the sup
> turned cold,
> ply of good weather gave out it rained,
> and rained some more!
> After four or five more days of attempted sight-seeing,
> the sun was
> it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps
> "hit the trail."
> shining in California, and I
> We were all particularly  and  financially interested in
> a "special-fare" train,
> the fact that we were traveling on
> minute the train is
> where you get a refund for every
> and as a
> late   But there was no chance for any refund,
> was poor policy
> money-making    proposition we decided it
> to gamble with the old Pennsy
> railway, as they have
> and when they charge
> their business down to a fine point,
> and sixty  cents  extra to get you to
> you three dollars
> be sure the odds
> Cincinnati at a certain time, you may
> and none of your coin will
> ever come
> are in their favor,
> 
> back!
> 
> [ 262 ]
> The End of the Trail
> 
> Nearly thirty years had passed since I took my last
> look at Cincinnati, and I was sorry afterwards that I
> looked in again, as my impressions of my "home town"
> were not   improvedby an attempted hold-up by a drunken
> tough     the only time I had been molested on the whole
> trip !
> In the country everything is about the same,                    only a
> little worse for wear and tear. The roads are in               a    little
> worse condition than they were thirty years ago, and the
> 
> fine old forests have nearly all disappeared. The school-
> houses    are   a  little scarcer, and instead of building new
> ones,    the    old ones are being closed here and there
> throughout       the country on account of the scarcity of
> pupils.
> After visiting      the   little   brick      schoolhouse   where      I
> had tried to teach my first school, consisting of about
> fifty demons of all ages and sizes who were supposed to
> receive instruction in everything from A B C's to algebra
> and music  (for which I received the magnificent sum of
> thirty-two dollars a month), the rainy season managed
> to open up again with a continuous performance.    After
> for several days  I managed   between
> being marooned
> showers to board a midnight train in Cincinnati and
> woke up in Chicago.
> The principal object of my visit was to see the large
> model of the New Bahai Temple now being built at
> Wilmette, and in company with Mr. B     I headed at
> once to the Academy of Fine Arts, where the model is
> 
> It          well worth the      trip,
> on   permanent exhibition.                was
> 
> and anyone going       to   Chicago should not fail to see this
> wonderful                   of   architecture,          inspired    work
> specimen                           an
> 
> [ 263 ]
> A Modern Pilgrimage
> 
> from start to        finish, beautiful down to the finest detail
> and,    most       wonderful of all, an inanimate thing that
> actually seems alive!
> Its originality of design and unique treatment leave
> nothing to be desired, and one can readily see why the
> Bahais selected this model in the face of powerful com
> petition.
> The only regret I felt was that this Temple was not
> to be erected on some prominent site overlooking Los
> 
> Angeles instead of in the suburbs of Chicago.
> In fact I would be willing to live at least fifty years
> on the
> longer if I could look on such a building standing
> truncated hill opposite Mt. Washington, a landmark to
> be seen everywhere in the neighborhood of Los Angeles,
> in plain view of the thousands of people daily journey
> of pilgrimage for vis
> ing to and from Pasadena, a place
> the Taj Mahal
> itors from all parts of the worldrivaling
> at Milan!
> and more beautiful than the great Cathedral
> and tropical
> Such building, surrounded by palms
> a
> the continent
> foliage would be worth traveling
> across
> 
> to    see'        But   now   it is   high time to be getting
> some
> 
> San Fran
> where        the Dearborn Station, where the
> near
> waiting for the
> cisco limited is contentedly puffing away,
> and            the last lap of our long
> complete
> signal to pull out
> 
> "And        now, in     the words of the old Persian poet:
> 
> "Your ode you've sung, your pearls you've
> strung;
> Hafidh mine;
> Come chant it sweetly,
> That as you sing the sky may
> fling
> The Pleiades'          bejeweled band."
> 
> [ 264 ]
> The End of the Trail
> 
> The above would have been more appropriate if had been
> expressed a little differently, but even at that, is no more
> irrelevant than a great many other things that have
> appeared in the preceding chapters.
> the colored   "king of    the
> Anyway, about this time,
> Pullman" appeared     with   a   whisk-broom   and   a   broad
> Dis
> smile, and briefly announced, "Brush up, sah?
> am
> 
> Los Angeles!"
> And so, after an absence of four months, during which
> we   had   journeyed nearly twenty     thousand miles,     our
> 
> little   jaunt was ended!
> 
> END
> 
> [ 265 ]
>
> — *A Modern Pilgrimage to Palestine (Used by permission of the curator)*