Chapter X (1)

According to our itinerary we should have left Beyrout the 15th; but the running of the steamers had lately been changed; and we were obliged to wait until the 19th, giving us some eight days in Beyrout. But the American consul and our college friends made it so pleasant for us that the time passed very quickly.

Our party have avoided as far as possible travelling on the Sabbath. Only once before since we left have we encroached on holy time. When we left Port Saïd, we took steamer for Jaffa Sunday afternoon; and Sunday, the 19th, our steamer was to leave Beyrout for Athens at twelve o’clock. Rev. Mr. Horton of our party preached at nine in the morning to the college boys and others. Text, “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ.”

At 11.30 we were all on board the “Senegal,” a French steamer, four hundred and twenty feet long and 600 horse-power engines. It was the finest running boat we have yet had the privilege of travelling on. She runs through the blue waters of the Mediterranean like a duck, counting off about fifteen knots per hour. She is the personification of neatness, and the cuisine is excellent; and, after having so much Syrian and gum Arabic _table d’hôte_, we certainly enjoyed the French cooking. Many of our Beyrout friends came on board to bid us farewell; and, as we steamed out of the harbor, we could look back upon College Hill, and see the waving of handkerchiefs, which we returned as the last good-by.

We took a south-west course, and before sundown we were running along near the island of Cyprus. This island, one hundred or more miles long, is Turkish territory; but the English government has leased it, paying ninety thousand pounds per year. This was done as a military strategy. The English hold the north end of the Mediterranean with Gibraltar. The south end is held by this island. They keep a part of their navy and soldiers here, and can throw them very quickly into Egypt or anywhere in the Turkish provinces.

Monday morning the sun rose clear, a fresh breeze from the west, and the sea looked like watered silk, while our engines in their quiet way are pushing us through the blue waters. Everybody seems happy. You can have a cup of coffee from 7 to 9, and breakfast at 10, lunch at 1, dinner at 6, and tea and crackers at 8.30. Retire when you please.

About three o’clock in the afternoon we were coasting along the shore of Asia Minor. At our right the hills and mountains had thrust themselves, as it were, down into the sea, forming a promontory. Back in the distance could be seen the snow-capped mountains. The country looked rugged; but no doubt there were many fertile valleys and plains nestled among those rugged cliffs that stood ready to be the first to greet all mariners and passengers going up and down the Mediterranean.

Tuesday we are to pass the island of Rhodes. Finding the morning clear and bright with a smooth sea, about 9 A.M. we bear to the right, and run up into a beautiful bay, with hills and elevations on both sides of us, studded with trees and foliage of green. In some places the channel is quite narrow, reminding us of different places on the Hudson. About one hour’s sail, and we anchor at a modern-looking town of Vathy, on the island of Samos. Our steamer put off and takes on merchandise here, and will remain the rest of the day, giving us a chance to go ashore. No backsheesh will be called for here; for, as they say, every one is rich.

Samos is Turkish, but, like Lebanon, has a right to a Christian governor, the European powers dictating in the matter; and we see no mud houses and squalor that is seen in most of the Turkish provinces. It is said that they make the finest wine in the world, that being the main product. Our steamer is loading it by the quantity. They import as it were nothing, but export much. Hence we can understand how they grow wealthy. We take on three hundred and fifty casks that weigh almost a ton to a cask. We have wandered upon the side of the mountain, looked the people over, and talked with those that could talk English. We see no veiled women, the dress of all being quite American; and we are delighted with Vathy. The island of Samos, which is seventy miles in circumference, the people pay the Turkish government two thousand pounds a year for, and then run things as they please. A cannon was fired at sundown, and the sweet notes of the bugle sounded, notifying the people that twilight was soon to settle down upon them. There are forty thousand people on the island.

At 7.30 the “Senegal” weighed anchor, and headed her prow down the bay; and the crescent-shaped town that had climbed from the shore up the mountain a mile or more threw out its lights, and our farewell look at Vathy was a beautiful one, and will be long remembered.

Wednesday morning before we had left our cabin our steamer had cast anchor; and the jabbering of the native boatmen was all about as we hurried on deck, and found that we were in front of a town of some twenty thousand inhabitants, being the city of Smyrna. We have been sailing over some of the route that Paul went over when going up to Jerusalem. (See Acts xx.) John, in Revelation, speaks of Smyrna as having endured. (See Rev. ii. 8, 9.)

Smyrna stands next to Constantinople in commercial importance, being second in the Turkish empire. It has a fine harbor, buildings stretching along the bay for miles, then gradually rising back on the hills that line the coast. On the top of the hill are the ruins of an old stone castle or fort. South of this you will find the tomb of Polycarp, the first martyred bishop. Smyrna was once a walled city. The old ruined wall and stone aqueduct that formerly supplied the city with water are among the things of interest that you will want to look over. We find Smyrna remarkably neat for this country. Good water and plenty of it, and good sewerage.

The bazaars are far above the average of those we have seen since entering the Turkish territory. Many fine stores with many French goods in them are to be found here. There are two things here that are household words with us in America; that is, Smyrna rugs and figs. We have seen stacks of the former, and have had fine figs at our command. The American Board of Missions have a hold on the people here in Smyrna. Rev. Mr. Bartlett, who at one time preached at Morrisville, Vt., is at the head, with several helpers. The work is among the young. We have visited the mission, and the missionaries have called on us on board the “Senegal.”

The sultan of Turkey is strong in his Mohammedan belief; and he is watching the influence that true Christianity is having on his people with a jealous eye, and is bound to hold them with rods of iron.

Thursday morning we take small boats for the shore, and then take the street-cars down the bay for a mile, where we find a special train for Ephesus, some forty-eight miles. We take an easterly course, finding our way through the hills that line the shores of the Mediterranean, and soon begin to open out upon a broad plain. We first go through a place called Paradise; but we enter it through a large burying-ground, which seemed rather suggestive. But on we go; and the valley becomes miles in width, covered with fig trees, some olive vineyards, etc. Off at your right you will see trains of camels coming and returning to and from Smyrna, loaded with grain and merchandise from and for the interior. Farther on you will see large herds of sheep. From these come the wool for the Smyrna rugs.

After one and one-half hours of enjoyable riding, the hills and mountains that have guarded us on each side seemed to come together close to us, and form a gateway through which we pass, coming into a valley nearly surrounded by hills, where once was the great city of Ephesus, referred to in Acts xviii. 19. To-day there are only two or three hundred people. See what John says, Rev. ii. 4-10. But you can ride miles and over hundreds of acres, and see old ruins. One thing very peculiar is, as you go into the town, every old column and minaret seems to be topped out with a stork, standing there in its loneliness. The tip of the wings and tail is black, while the rest of the body is white.

The modern name of this place is Ayassacook. I think it ought to be Storkville. The nests of the storks are on these columns. A short distance west of this little village is quite an elevation, on which are the ruins of an old Roman castle. You ascend to that point, and you get a view of the whole valley. Down at the base on the south side are quite respectable ruins of an old mosque. A little farther on you will see men at work excavating, and it proves to be the site of that wonderful temple of Diana of the Ephesians.

They have decided to learn more of that building that Demetrius stirred up such a commotion about among the people, regarding the shrines of Diana, and are spending money in digging over the ruins. I have always admired the town clerk they had at that time, and looked about for some of his documents, but was not able to find them. His counsel, you will remember, was not to be rash. If Paul had done anything wrong, they had the law. He seemed to be level-headed. (See Acts xix. from 35th verse.)

From this elevation, looking west about two miles distant, you see the waters of the Mediterranean. Ephesus used to be a great seaport and commercial city; but Smyrna has stolen its thunder, and all this kind of traffic is at Smyrna to-day. Righteousness exalteth a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people. The best thing we saw at Ephesus was a comfortable little hotel where we went for lunch. The proprietor showed us his register for 1878, where General U. S. Grant had booked his name. He felt quite proud of having had so noted a guest.

3 P.M. found us back at Smyrna. At four we were steaming out of the bay. Friday about noon we reached Thessalonica, a town of a hundred and twenty thousand people, one-half Jews. It is beautiful for situation, forming a crescent around the bay. A portion of the place rises up to quite a height; yet there is much level or rolling land in and beyond the city; and it has an extra fine farming country back of it. The business is largely trade with the surrounding country. It has one cotton mill, and they would like a woollen mill to make flannel. Wool, cotton, and cereals are their main products. Our steamer remained at Thessalonica until Saturday morning. The Congregational party went ashore, and took carriages through the city, found many good buildings, thought it a comparatively neat town. We saw some native Albanians. They wore a white pleated skirt, very full, coming down about to the knees, reminding me of ballet girls.

The dress of the people of the country we have been travelling through the last six weeks has for its watchword “variety.” You see everything that fashion is heir to, colors vying with the rainbow; and you can be entertained at any time by standing on the corner of the street or sitting on your hotel piazza, and watch the surging crowds as they pass by.

Reaching Athens nearly finishes our travels on the Mediterranean, having been on her waters in all some fifteen days. She has behaved beautifully, though we understand she is capable of getting her back up and making things lively; but she has lately been on her good behavior, and passed us over her smooth waters, giving us a charming ride. At times we were out of sight of land, but usually we could see the foot of hills and mountains, sometimes towering so high as to hold the frost of winters firmly in their grasp. We have enjoyed many an hour on deck, watching the light shade to crimson, blue, gray, and green, changing like the kaleidoscope,--the brilliant rays of morning, the soft and beautiful shades of twilight. This and the pleasant chatting with those who but three months ago were strangers to us, but now are cherished friends,--all this environment rushes in upon us to fill the book of memory with a richness that will be a joy to us as time rolls on.

We have been sailing through the archipelago, and have passed the plains of Marathon, where the Athenians fought and won that terrible battle with great odds against them with Darius the Persian. Saturday night we were informed that we should reach the Piræus, which is the port of Athens, at five o’clock Sunday morning. Wishing to get a view of the harbor and city that was at one time the wonder of the world, I decided to be on deck at four o’clock. The boat proved to be an hour late. Therefore, I had a chance to enjoy the whole scene. When I reached deck, the hills on each side were gathering down upon us; but erelong we spied in the distance the Acropolis with its ragged top, standing back from the shore, but showing us the location of Socrates’s home. Soon on the shore we could see tall chimneys and a cluster of buildings which proved to be the Piræus. The “Senegal” steamed up the harbor, and anchored not very far from shore. Boatmen were on hand, and men, women, and baggage were soon landed on _terra firma_; and we soon found ourselves in some fine landaus, and were driven five miles over as fine a road as is usually found in any country. The cars run up to the city; but carriages seemed to be the order of the day, landing us at the Grand Hotel, where we found breakfast ready and everything more than satisfactory. Will give you a picture of Athens in my next letter.

LETTER FROM GREECE.

ATHENS, May 29, 1895.

The last port we left before reaching this place was on Turkish territory. The streets were full of Turkish trousers, turbans, and the fez, with all the brilliant colors that Persian dyes would make. But, when we reached the Piræus, a place of three thousand nine hundred people, which is the front door and vestibule of Athens, we found that the baggy Turkish trousers had wonderfully diminished in size. The brilliant colors had become sombre, the turbans and the fez had been laid away in the archives of the past, and the American hat is touched as you meet the people. For a little spice you would occasionally meet an Albanian with his white pleated skirt coming down to within some four inches of the knee, with tight leggings coming up as high as the law will allow. The full Grecian sleeves and waist trimmed with gold lace, the sleeves hanging down below the elbow, made a very jaunty suit,--something that will cause you to leave all the rest of mankind, and gaze till your curiosity is satisfied.

When we landed and met the people of this country, we noticed that the gesticulating, exciting motions we had been accustomed to were missing; but everything they said was Greek to us, and all we could say was nonentenday. However, we prefer the Athenians to the Turks and Syrians.

The Piræus is modern and full of thrift, has a fine harbor full of merchant vessels, and is doing a large inland business. In ancient times one of the old kings walled in the Piræus with Athens, running the walls from the coast up around Athens, making the two places one, although they are some four or five miles apart. As you take the drive up the valley from the Piræus, you will see the relics of the old walls. When you reach the city, you will find there is an old and new Athens. The historical and beautiful Athens was once the hub of the world. Art, science, literature, poetry, and sculpture were once centred here; and, as you walk about the city, you are constantly being reminded that the glory of these things has not entirely departed. From the ruins of the old temples they are digging up the Corinthian, Doric, and Ionic columns and architecture.

In the new and beautiful buildings this same style is being reproduced. This city reminds us of Rome in many things. Rome has one advantage; and that is an abundance of water, which Athens is not favored with. Statuary abounds in both cities. You will see Plato, Socrates, Demosthenes, and that class of men, sitting or standing in the public places or connected with the public buildings of Athens.

If you are going to look over the city, the first thing to do is to go with me to the Acropolis, the word meaning height of the city. Nature held out a helping hand to the kings, and threw up a conical hill some two hundred feet high, not round, but oblong. The top is of lime-rock or granite and flat, with a surface of some two acres, being precipitous except on the west side. The kings threw a wall around the edge of the top of this elevation, and on the top built the temples. The entrance on the west side was guarded by what is called Enneapzion Pilasgikon, or nine gates. This place became the home of the Athenian kings. Here they sat in judgment, and assembled their councils.

Later these were removed to the town, and the Acropolis devoted to the gods. These temples were at one time destroyed by the Persians, and were rebuilt in greater splendor than ever by Pericles. The Pantheon was its pride, and when at its best, with its white marble and gold, with the Erechtheion, was the glory of the city, and has gone into history as one of the wonders of the world. Its present destruction, with part of its temples standing and the ground strewn with broken columns, is due to an officer of a besieging army firing a bomb into a magazine of powder that was stored on the Acropolis.

As you stand there, looking down the bay, you see the Piræus. Beyond, some thirty miles, you see Acrocorinthus, showing the location of Corinth. As you turn and look south, at the foot of the hill is the theatre of Bacchus. This was without a covering; and the stage was at the bottom of the hill, while the seats were in amphitheatre style, coming up to the upright walls of the Acropolis. The seats were of stone. In the first rows were marble chairs for the great men of the nation. In the centre was a marble platform in which sat the king. The theatre would seat thirty thousand. At the right was a colonnade built, where they could go between the acts and promenade at pleasure. A little farther to the right was the Odeion, a small theatre built of stone in the same way, only it was covered.

We are now looking over old Athens. Much of it has been demolished and covered up, and has become a pasture for the goats. Looking west again a few hundred rods, you will see the hill of the Muses. As you commence to rise, the hill is a perpendicular rock. Into this rock there have been made prison rooms, with three doors to enter. Here was where Socrates was imprisoned, and ended his life by taking hemlock. On the top of this elevation is the tomb of Philopappos. Looking north-west only a short distance from the Acropolis is what was in ancient times and is now called the Areopagus, or Hill of Mars. Paul went on to Mars’ Hill. (See Acts xvii.) A few of us went there. The day we arrived being the Sabbath, the Rev. C. P. Mills, of Newburyport, read the last part of that chapter. It seemed like hearing direct from the author.

A little west of Mars’ Hill is another elevation, with stone steps leading up to it. Up those steps went Demosthenes, when he spoke to the people of Athens. As you stand on the Acropolis and view the landscape over, you can see in your mind’s eye those giants moving among the people, with ideas in advance of their time, which have rung down through the ages.

Turning around more to the north-west, looking down at the base of the Acropolis is where the markets were located, and where it is supposed Paul often went and proclaimed the Christian doctrine to the Athenians. A little beyond is the temple or tomb of Theseus, which is said to be the best preserved relic of old Athens, with its Ionic columns all intact.

We have been gazing mostly at our feet. Let us now take a sweep around the country. At the south some eight miles lies Mount Hymettus. From this section came the famous honey of Hymettus. We have had it on our table every day since we arrived. Around to the east is Mount Pentelikon. From these two mountains come the beautiful marble that formed the temples and buildings of old Athens, and the new city is indebted to those mountains for the beauty that attracts the stranger’s eye to-day. These mountains seem to encircle Athens, forming a beautiful background, standing as it were like guardians of her welfare.

Just east of the town is Mount Lykabettos, a small, conical hill, about six hundred feet high, on which is the chapel of St. George. This hill is very symmetrical, with green foliage two-thirds the way up. The other third is of lime-rock and granite, and with the white chapel on top is one of the first things the stranger will notice as he comes into the city. Before leaving the Acropolis, you will see beyond Mars’ Hill the hill of the Nymphs, on which is a beautiful observatory, built by the Baron Sina, of Vienna. He also gave the city a beautiful building called the Academy of Science, of which I will speak later.

From our standpoint we have a fine view of the new part of Athens. Away to the east it is beginning to climb up to Mount Lykabettos, and north it is stretching out across the plain with fine streets and avenues and foliage of green, making a pretty picture. Here we find a great many pepper-trees. Their beauty is known to every one that has ever seen them. The streets are nearly all macadamized, and would be a paradise for the cyclist. Let us now return to the Grand Hotel, standing on the Place de la Constitution, where you find all the best hotels of the city, as well as the king’s palace. Take a carriage, and go east by the palace, then south ten minutes, and you come to the Stadium. This is where in olden times they used to have their chariot and foot races, the throwing of trays, etc. Nature did her part in forming this institution and art the rest. It is a flat piece of ground of some two acres, with an embankment around it some twenty feet high, in the form of a horseshoe, being narrow at the heel, leaving a place to enter. Most of this was natural, though the heel seemed to have been fashioned by man.

This embankment formerly contained marble seats, and was capable of seating fifty thousand people. In some of Athens’s misfortunes and depressions these games were given up, and the marble carried away and used for other purposes. But the city has decided to renew those exhibitions, and are now putting in the marble seats. They believe it will attract tourists and draw a large number of people to the city.

At the end opposite the entrance is an underground passage-way leading to the outside of the embankment as well as outside the city. The victors returned to the city the way they came in, crowned with laurels while the vanquished went out through this tunnel, and never showed their faces in the city again. The Stadium will not be completed until next season. Therefore, we will retrace our steps, and take a drive down the Boulevard de l’ Université, and return on the Rue du Stade, two streets that run to and from the king’s palace, parallel with each other, lined with pepper-trees.

Here you will find some of the finest buildings in Athens. One of the first that will meet your eye is the Academy of Science, built by Baron Sina, of Vienna. This is of Pentelic marble, with Ionic colonnades and in classic Grecian style. As you enter to go up the broad marble steps and walk, you can, if you choose, be introduced to Plato sitting at your left and Socrates at your right. The marble and gold before you will thrill you with admiration. The group in the pediment of the central structure represents the birth of Athena. The gables are filled with statuary. As you enter the main hall, high up on the walls are beautiful paintings by Griepenkerl, of Vienna,--Prometheus lighting his torch in the presence of Athena, Prometheus breathing life into man in the presence of Athena, etc.

At the farther end of the hall stands Baron Sina. He must have been a fine subject to have operated upon; but, aside from that, the workmanship is exquisite, and will hold you spell-bound as you look upon it. It was executed, as was much of the other statuary, by Drosos. Beyond this building is the University of Athens, standing in its beauty and wonderful capacity, with sixty professors and some two thousand students.

It is organized on the German system, and is said to be doing fine work. It has a library of one hundred thousand volumes. In this section of the city is the museum, which it will be well for you to visit when you have time. It abounds with statuary, and much of it was very fine. Old Neptune attracted my attention as much as anything. He looked as though he had just come up out of Plymouth Pond, with his locks dripping, spear in his hand, and a big fish by his side.

We must hurry on, for it is time for lunch, but must call your attention to the Palace Olion built by Dr. Schliemann and now occupied by his widow, also on our return we might step into the House of Parliament, which is a stately-looking building, though the inside looks a little rusty.

Greece is poor, and has hard work to raise money enough to pay the interest on her debt. Dr. Schliemann, whose residence I have just made mention of, was the great explorer of the plains of Troy; and we expect to see much that he found there in the museum at Constantinople. While at Athens, we took a drive one afternoon to Eleusis, ten miles from Athens, going over what is called the sacred way.

Eleusis is a small town, mostly Albanians living there. It was the home of Æschylus, the earliest of the three great tragedians. When a little way out of the city, we stopped, and looked over the old olive-tree planted by Plato when he first began to teach at thirty years of age. This would make it over fifteen hundred years old. It had an immense hollow trunk, with a few limbs and sprouts growing, but it looked toothless, shrivelled, and shorn of its beauty. It has been grazed and barked by the wheel of time. The olive-tree has a wonderful tenacity for life, and when the funeral obsequies will be held over it is uncertain.

The ruins of the temple of mystery are at Eleusis, and in its day the temple must have been attractive and of great capacity. No one was ever allowed to enter or join the order that would divulge the tenets of the organization. Of course, the ladies would not care to become members.

If you wish for a charming drive, go to Eleusis. The last part of the drive as you go around the Bay of Eleusis is lovely. You are in plain view of the Bay of Salamis, where Xerxes, with his fifteen hundred war vessels, fought the Grecians, who had six hundred; and the old king had the satisfaction of sitting up on the shoulder of the mountain that comes down to the sea, and see his navy annihilated by the Grecians, although he had great advantage in numbers.

We returned to our hotel, having had a fine drive of twenty miles. No better roads can be found anywhere than about Athens. In the evening Mr. Cummer, of Michigan, one of our party, and myself went out and looked over the electric light station, and found Babcock boilers, Westinghouse engines, and Edison system all doing good work. They have commenced right by putting their wires all underground. Wages in this city for common laborers are $2.50 per month and board. We are pleased with Athens, but down goes my pen for this time.

Hope to be able to take you into Constantinople in a few days.

LETTER FROM CONSTANTINOPLE.

JUNE 5, 1895.

Wednesday, May 29, our steamer was to leave Athens, or the Bay of Piræus, at 7 P.M. for Constantinople, a sail of forty-five hours. It was an Austrian boat, the “Hungaria,” medium size, and not first-class. The cabins were for four instead of two, and the boat was packed from stem to stern. Therefore, the ladies and gentlemen were separated. I at once selected my quartette, and had it understood if any one became sonorous in the night he should be reported at once to the captain. We had on board counts and countesses, and people that never heard of a count, all nationalities mixed up together.

When we drove down from Athens and took small boats out to the steamer, the heavy black clouds were hanging on the mountains, and looked as though the breezes would be down upon us before morning.

However, in due time we were all packed away for a comfortable night; but early in the morning we found ourselves in the Ægean Sea, with high running billows, facing a gale. There were two men in our cabin that prided themselves on being good sailors. They walked the deck and dining-room of the “Normannia” every day when crossing the Atlantic; but Thursday, the 30th, it was too windy to be on deck, and the dining-room was anything but satisfactory. The bunks in the cabin seemed to be the only place of comfort in the boat. The ladies’ cabins were on deck, and they had a lively time. Some made their wills, others turned over their letters of credit for safe keeping, etc. However, the “Hungaria” kept on her course; and about 3 P.M. we left the boisterous sea to play havoc with others, and we were in the Dardanelles, where we found smoother waters, and the dining-room became a place of comfort, and the deck was filled with people.

In the evening our engine broke down, and detained us some three hours. It was lucky for us that it did not happen when on the sea.

The next morning we were passing the plains of Troy. Here was where the Greeks besieged the city, but could not take it until they played a shrewd game on the Trojans. They made an immense wooden horse, inside of which were some Greeks, then feigned a retreat. The Trojans came out to gather up what was left, and among other things drew into the city the wooden horse. In the night out came the Greeks, and opened the gates of the city. In came the Grecian army, and the thing was ended.

When we left the Dardanelles, we sailed into the Sea of Marmora, which extends to the Bosphorus. About noon the Marmora had narrowed down, the shore of Asia was on our right, and Europe on our left; and away in the distance at the left could be seen Constantinople, stretching along up the sea, domes and minarets by the hundred. The mosque Suleimon with her six minarets, and the S. Sophia with her dome piercing the sky one hundred and seventy-five feet, one hundred and eight feet at the base, occupying some fifty thousand square feet, are objects that will set the Yankee tongue in motion; and he wishes to know what those wonderful buildings are and where are the people that use them, but you can satisfy him by giving the name and promising to take him in later.

Constantinople lies on rolling land. In some places she goes up from the sea and Bosphorus quite abruptly, giving a bold appearance. In other places she retires in a more modest manner. As an Oriental town, she has more than the usual amount of trees and foliage, which add to her beauty.

On her right as we sail up the bay is Scutari. This is Asiatic Turkey. On the hill away in the distance is located the girls’ college and school belonging to the American Board, which is doing a grand work.

Before going ashore, we might as well go up the Bosphorus and Golden Horn and the sweet waters of Europe. The Bosphorus connects the Sea of Marmora with the Black Sea, being eighteen miles in length and from one to three miles wide.

As you come up to the landing, you turn to the right, leaving the Sea of Marmora. Entering this noted channel, take a small steamer, and you will have a beautiful sail up and back, both banks being lined with buildings. Perhaps in forty minutes at your right you will see the girls’ college that I have referred to. Dr. Dunning preached to the girls last Sabbath, much to their satisfaction; and it is evident that they will give the doctor a call. Our party were all invited there the 4th to an afternoon spread, resulting in a splendid time, full of enjoyment.

The land on either side of this channel is picturesque of itself, rising somewhat abruptly in places, but fertile to the top, scattered over with Oriental trees and shrubbery. Among these are nestled the houses, as well as many fine and imposing buildings. About as soon as you turn into the Bosphorus at your left from the shore, up back as far as you can see are the sultan’s grounds and palaces and beautiful stables for his horses.

Upon this elevation, overlooking the waters of Marmora and the Bosphorus, live the king of Turkey and almost all of his relatives; yet I have seen many a humble American with a happier-looking face than wears this king in all his regal splendor.

A little farther on, and you pass a little mosque that cannot be surpassed for beauty. On this art and skill seemingly have spent their energies. This is where the king goes to worship, although he has a rule which he follows; that is, to worship once a year in every mosque in the city.

Farther up the channel at your left, high up on the hill, standing up boldly, is Robert College, putting in her hard knocks for truth, righteousness, and good will to men; and she is, no doubt, an eyesore to the sultan.

America is at fault in one thing. She ought to put the best man the nation affords here as consul, a man level-headed, that will stand up for righteousness and at the same time go for business. This she has not done. The Turks are wily, polite, and treacherous. Our consul here, they say, loses his head. I do not think he is anywhere up to the man at Beyrout.

The German consul is doing much toward introducing German goods into Turkey, but the people say they prefer American goods when they can get them. I met a lady yesterday that has all her butter from Waterbury, Vt., coming through in tubs in first-class condition.

But I am getting off my track; and, as we are now nearly at the upper end of the Bosphorus, if you will look back down the coast, you will see that Constantinople with its suburbs is a long city, being about thirty miles in length, resting on this channel and the Sea of Marmora, and containing about one million of people. This city is built largely of wood, some of the buildings being six and seven stories high. While there are many fine-looking buildings, yet a majority of them look rusty, never having seen paint or whitewash. The earthquake, some ten months or more ago, shook them up badly; and you can see many of the scars to-day.

When we return to the landing and stand facing the city, we see the course of the Bosphorus to the right and the Golden Horn going to the left, up through the city. This is where the three waters meet,--Marmora, Bosphorus, and Golden Horn.

Stamboul, the old part of Constantinople, lies to the left of the Horn as you ascend its waters, also running down the shore of Marmora. This part of the city was once the capital of the Greek empire.

Now, to go up the Golden Horn, we will take a kaik. There are said to be thirty thousand of these little boats in the waters around Constantinople. They are long and narrow, being twenty feet or more in length, and look like an Indian canoe. They carry four people, who are seated in the bottom of the boat, four oars with two men to handle them, and they row for dear life; it is fun to go skipping over the waters of the Golden Horn.

The Horn, where it enters the sea, is about one-half mile wide, and is spanned by a pontoon bridge; but we get into our kaik just above this bridge, and in a short time we go under another bridge, and pass some ten or fifteen old war vessels, which are about all the navy Turkey possesses.

The Horn is six miles long, and the boatmen will hustle you over its waters in about fifty minutes. It grows narrow as you ascend, the last two miles being the sweet waters of Europe, and is a place of great beauty,--groves, villas, places of amusement, etc., all along its banks,--and goes meandering its way to the end.

Friday is a gala-day. The Turkish ladies are out, and these waters are literally covered with boats.

It is a great place for picnics. We saw one place where they were having a jolly time roasting the whole carcass of a sheep; they had a stick run through it lengthwise, and were turning it over a big fire of coal, as you would turn a grindstone. I could see by their expression that they had an eye for a good dinner.

Mutton is king in this country, and I will just call your attention to the meat wagons that run through Constantinople; and, if you wish to go into the business here, it will cost you but a trifle to rig up a cart. Take two boards about three feet square, and hang them on a horse, one each side, have some hooks put in on which to hang your roasts, steaks, liver, chops, etc., and you are all right for business. Then you will see many cheaper arrangements than that. A man takes on his shoulder a pole some ten feet long. On this he hangs calves’ heads, pluck, lights, and liver,--some things you might relish, but much that you would not. This fellow travels about, furnishing any one that sees fit to buy.

A man gets full of these quaint things in travelling through these Oriental towns.

I informed you not long ago that we had reached the climax on dogs at Damascus, but I should have waited until we reached this place. The first day we arrived we took carriages, and rode through the streets of Constantinople one and a half hours. We counted seven hundred and fifty dogs, and it was not much of a day for dogs, either. The dogs have their own territory; and, if a dog gets off that on to another dog’s ground, they give him Hail Columbia until he gets back again. Fifteen in one pile is the largest cluster I have seen yet, but am prepared for anything in the way of canines, and also intend to keep in that frame of mind until I leave the Turkish empire.

The great Turkish annual festival “Bairam,” lasting some days, commenced Monday, the 3d. Every well-to-do Mohammedan is expected to buy a sheep at that time, take it home and kill it, and then divide up the meat among the poor, so that every man shall have meat in his house once a year. This is the most Christian thing, in my opinion, the Turks are guilty of doing. The 2d of June we noticed the sheep were coming into the city from all directions by the hundreds and thousands, and were soon informed what was coming.

The sultan commences the slaughter by drawing the knife gently across a sheep’s neck; and, as he was to be at a certain mosque or castle at six o’clock that morning, we decided to take a ride before breakfast, and were on the ground early, getting a good position. They had out the military. The sultan rode in a carriage drawn by four horses, and gold lace seemed to be abundant. The officers and horses in the Turkish army appear to be covered with tinsel, while the soldiers were plain in dress and appearance.

The sultan is fifty-six years old, and beginning to show iron-gray in hair and whiskers. His boys rode in carriages behind the king, each one having a carriage by himself. One of them, the youngest, attracted our attention as being a fine little fellow.

When we arrived here, and were fairly settled in our hotel, we were called on by Dr. Herrick, a brother of Dr. L. H. Cobb’s wife, who has been a missionary here and at Massavan in the interior many years. We accepted an invitation from him to go and spend Saturday night at his house, which we enjoyed exceedingly, learning much of the work of the missionaries, also of the people.

Two of his native teachers at Massavan were arrested some eighteen months ago, accused of plotting against the government, and were sentenced to be hung; but the doctor succeeded in getting another hearing, and cleared them by fleeing the country.

Jealousy and ignorance have no limit among the Turks. A man telegraphed to Germany for a pulley to run so many revolutions, and he was arrested at once because the word “revolution” was in the telegram.

All letters going out of the country, if directed to editors, are examined, and destroyed if not satisfactory. So we have sent all letters, if possible, through the British post-office. Not a scrap of anything can be printed, not even an auction notice, without first going before the censor.

We have visited the Seven Towers that stands at the south-west part of the city, close by the Sea of Marmora. This is a large enclosure with a high wall and towers on the corners, some two hundred feet high. This place at one time was occupied by the janizaries, and many a king lost his head here. There is a small open court inside, called the place of heads. Seven thousand were beheaded at one time, and the heads piled in here. The blood ran in trenches out of the castle. On one side are prison rooms or dungeons. At one time Lord Byron occupied one of them. Near these rooms is what is called the well of blood, where they threw their slaughtered victims. This well is connected by a channel with the Sea of Marmora, so everything went out into sea.

We came to this point on a railroad tram skirting along the seashore, and saw much of the old walls of the city Stamboul. Gala and Pera form the main part of the present Constantinople. In Galata, upon high ground, stands the Galata Tower, one hundred and fifty feet high, and is a grand place to get a view of the city. In the Middle Ages it was called the Tower of Christ or of the Cross. It is now used as a fire-signal station, using flags in the day-time, lanterns by night. The alarm of fire is given by firing a cannon seven times, and then signal the location from the tower.

The dress of the people has changed here within a few years. While one-half or more are Mohammedans, yet you see but little Turkish dress excepting the fez. The rest of the dress is largely American.

They have here what they call esnap. We should call them labor organizations. Each craft has an order of its own, though in so large a city there will be many branches of the same craft. It is said there are two hundred and fifteen registered orders.

They have their patron god-father, and celebrate once a year to his honor. For instance, Adam is patron to the bakers, Eve to the bath women, Abel to the shepherds, Cain to the grave-diggers, Noah to the ship-builders, etc.

We visited the tombs of the kings, where were buried two sultans and several of their wives. One of the sultans killed himself with the shears, or else the attendants did the work for him. There remains to this day an uncertainty in the matter.

The kings’ tombs are covered with wrought Persian silk, ornamented with gold lace and mother of pearl, and will dazzle your eyes to look at them. The wives’ tombs are covered, but not with such splendor. The building was handsome from the word go; and the dome, though small, was exquisitely beautiful.

The mosque S. Sophia, located in Stamboul, is the pride of the Mohammedans of Constantinople. I have already given you an idea of its size; and, as you go inside, you will be impressed with its architectural beauty. It is the third church that has stood on this ground, two having been destroyed. The first was built by Constantine the Great, and was dedicated to Divine Wisdom. The second was built and dedicated to Theodosius. The present one was built by Justinian, costing over one million sterling, and became the centre of the great transactions of state, the emperor’s nuptials being solemnized there, and many great and important events.

There are some eight different varieties of marble used in its construction. Troas, Athens, Ephesus, and many other places contributed to the rearing of this edifice. It was turned into a mosque when the Turks conquered Constantinople.

Monday, the 3d, we were all invited to the Bible House to lunch and met many of the missionaries and teachers from the colleges, and had a charming time. Dr. Herrick did the honors at the table in giving us a welcome, and calling out the speakers after the viands were served. Handsome is that handsome does. Taking that as a basis, Constantinople will have to look long and wide to find as handsome a man as the doctor. Dr. Dunning was happy in his remarks, as well as several other ministers of our party. Dr. Riggs, sixty-three years on the field, and still at the good work, was with us, occupying the head of the table. We also had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Bliss, one of the veterans.

Never was there a time when the hearts and hands of the missionaries in Turkey should be stayed up by the American people more than to-day. The cloud of uncertainty is hanging over them. Satan never yields an inch of ground without a struggle. The Turks are drawing the lines closer every year, and the cloud is liable to burst at any time.

The sultan keeps an army in Constantinople of one hundred and fifty thousand.

It being the week of the great Bairam festival, the steamer was not to go up the Danube until Saturday; and, instead of waiting so long, we decided to take a train Wednesday night, and go by rail to Vienna. So we bid good-by to Constantinople June 5 at 7 P.M.

FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO PARIS.

JUNE 5, 1895.

We bade good-by to Constantinople at 5 P.M. Wednesday. Thursday morn at six we were called upon in our berth for our passports, as we had finished up the territory of Turkey and were ready to enter Bulgaria. We soon satisfied the Bulgarians that we were all right.

From appearances we had a mutual admiration for each other, as we had seen Turks enough; and the Bulgarians, no doubt, had more love for an American than a Turk, as it is only a few years since they freed themselves from Turkish rule by hard-fought battles.

Our engine was soon speeding its way up a beautiful valley, coursing along a beautiful river, nearly as large as the Connecticut. We seemed to breathe a freer atmosphere than in the land we had just left. The towns we passed through looked thrifty, the people happy.

Bulgaria was filled with Greek Christians, and the Turks oppressed them so heavily that they rebelled; and the Russians came in, and helped them gain their freedom.

We could see away ahead in the distance the Balkan Mountains. Over these mountains came the Russians, who with the Bulgarians fought the Turks the whole length of this beautiful valley we are travelling over, driving them clear to Constantinople. As we passed along, we saw a great many mounds, some twenty-five feet diameter at the base, ten or more feet high, and learned on inquiry they were places where the soldiers were buried. Hence all the forenoon we were passing over a battlefield.

About noon we were in plain view of the mountains over which our big engine was to take us. These mountains seemed to be heavily wooded. The river was beginning to run rapidly; and we found the people were using the water power to run saw-mills, cutting out lumber by the train-load.

Our engine tugged and puffed away vigorously, and at times we moved slowly; but on we went, and about three o’clock were on top of the mountain, where we accelerated our speed, and went plunging down the other side, and at six o’clock we had crossed Bulgaria, and were ready to enter Servia, and of course had to pull out our passports again. Here we had our dinner; and everything was looked over by a set of red-tape fellows, that appeared to have a great weight of responsibility upon themselves. But we took things easily, and soon after our train started we were tucked away in our berth for a good night’s rest and sleep, waking early the next morning as we were going into a lovely city, embowered in trees and shrubbery and flowers, located where she could dip her feet into the beautiful Danube; and it proved to be the city of Belgrade, the largest city in Servia. Here is located the king’s palace.

In passing through Bulgaria, we became much interested in the people. They seemed industrious, mostly in agricultural pursuits, raising corn and large quantities of winter rye.

Bulgaria is in about the same latitude as Vermont, though I think the crops are more forward than they are in Vermont. The corn was being hoed, and the rye will be ready to harvest in about two weeks.

Here the ladies--for they looked like ladies--worked in the field. They had on their red skirts and Zouave jackets, some of them gayly trimmed, and looked jaunty. We saw but few men in the field. They seemed to do the ploughing, the hoeing being done by the women.

It is a question whether women’s rights do not prevail here, and the men are at home making the bread and taking care of the children; but the women and girls looked fresh and healthy, and swung the hoe vigorously.

At every station you see armed police. They wear white coats and caps, blue trousers with gilt buttons and trimmings; and we called them handsome.