The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1880-11-04

t3hE SEARCH FOR PARADISE,
A Story Told in Syrian Monastery.
Sunrise over Jerusalem; the dark
ramparts of the citadel, with their blue
frocked Turkish sentries, looking sternly
down upon the network Of narrow. dirty
streets and tall, fiat rooted, fortress like
houses; the huge round dome of the
Mosque Of Omar looming like thunder
cloud over the deep fosse-ike Valley of
Jehoshaphat; Mount Oivet, topped by
the gray wall OF the Russian convent,
standing boldly out against the bright
eastern sky the Hill Of Scopus, farther
to the north, still green and beautiful as
when Titus and his destroying legions
encamped there eighteen centuries ago;
and four horsemen. in white turbans and
soiled linen jackets, issuing from the deep
shadowy archway Of the Jaffa gate.
~ say, Jack, hadn't you better
change your mind, after all p says one Of
my English comrades, looking anxiously
al his friends pale face and heavy eyes.
It's a whole days ride to Jaffa, and you
were pretty bad last night, you know.
Are you quite sure you can stand it?"
ST don't know if I cam" replied the
invalid, with logged John Bull com
preston Of his lips, "but know I will.
anyhow
Our native guide, Ibraham (Abraham)
Mordecai, shakes his gray head mean
Sngly, and says nothing, and away we go.
r. Onward, ever upward past wave after
wave Of dark, ridgy upland-past clus-
tering vineyards that line both sides of
the road for hundreds Of yards together,
tantalizing my comrades with the sight
Of magnificent grapes, which are still far
too unripe to be eaten-past the rocky
gorge OF Abu- Gosh, with it's quaint little
robber village perched like vulture's
nest half way up fowning cliff, till at
length the hills are left behind, and we
look down upon the beautiful plain Of
Sharon, where, after so many centuries
of Moslem neglect and misrule, the.
standing corn still reaches the saddle
bow of horseman as herides through it,
But we have seen too much Of Pales-
tine to Judge Of it by the sample show"
which it offers to holiday tourists. Rid
ing beneath these telegraphic wires,
along this broad post-road, one might
dream Of civilization; but q divergence
Of q single mile from the track will show
the laden camel plodding through the
sand, the yelled woman bearing her
pitcher ON her head from the we'll, the
hnlf-clad Fellah" tending his black,
dwarfsh goats, the gaunt, ferce-eyed
Bedouin rushing at full gallop along the
brink of q precipice, with. his striped
mantle streaming in the wind, and his
gxteen-foot lance or cane in his hand, as
i'm the days when Abraham was still q
rowing shiekh on the Chaldean steppes.
Palestine has no present everything
which you look upon is the past. Ruins
every the ruins of Canaanite cit
a les, Of Roman aqueducts, of Byzantine
oonvents, Of Arab villages splendid
monuments half buried in sand, tombs
4 of ancient Kings filed with dirt and rub
bdsh, spot of world -wide renown tenanted
by filthy savages such are the charac-
teristic features Of the Holy Land.
Such, too, they must inevitably be till
some well-constituted administration
shall replace the organized brigandage
of the Turk. The present system is
merely scale of graduated robbery.
The Grand Vizier takes the toll from the
Governor General, the Governor Cen
\ eral taxes the Pashas, the Pashas fleece
their subalterns, the subalterns plumber
the people; and, considering that the
latter are burdened, not merely with the
Government ilnpost of 10 per cent. but
with countless other exactions for the
benefit of the local officials, it Is won
derful how the poor wretches contrive
to exist ut all
Our midday meal, in the shade of a
spreading tree, is delightfully."- refresh
ing. But it is now evident that this
constant jolting up and down hill, under
vertical sun, has been too much for
our invalid member, who, though he
still bears up with true Anglo-Saxon
pluck, is manifestly almost splayed
out. What are we to do with him {? In
. ms dilemma, a distant glimpse Of the
Sa!i, square tower OF Ramhel (Arim-
\ athna) gives me timely hint.
n Look here, we're not far from the
Russian monastery; let us halt there
for the afternoon, and go on to Jaffa in
4 the cool of the evening""
All, Efendi'' (your Honor), ssyou
won't get in there very easily Since
s the place was attacked the other day,
they We been very shy Of admitting any
/ one. I"
well, there's no harm in trying.
4 anyhow. You two take charge of our
friend here while / ride forward and try
q my luck"
Il A few minutes later, am hammerine
Justify at tine monastery gate, which, set
deep in its scowling archway of gray
stone and clamped with huge iron nails,
certainly looks any thing but hospitable.
\ a Little wicket opens and a hooded monk,
eying me suspiciously through graf
ling, surlily asks what Iwant.
My reply is single Russian phrase
+ the monastic greeting which 1 learned
&long ago from The monks OF Shelna, on
the Gulf Of Finland. But it's effect is
#magical. The gate flies open and am
seized IN hug worthy Of Polar bear.
VA greasy red beard scrubs both my
cheeks, while hoarse voice bellows
Irapturously, "Ach, brat moi, brat moi
sNf asexS h1kiEof MnoLuos ~ fA1, 800