The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 18??-19??, 1909-08-31

LcIlSlVe TcdOeF III MS department OE
letters. OF course, as a wide a
for more h sixty years in the many
fields of literature, / have read some
works Of the kind indicated, but with
limitations most marked, considering
the wide excursions through SO many
years in the very broad range of study.
Among the books Of travel I have
read I will here und ertake to consider
for a little while. 1.-The Howadji in
Syria" is one book I recall with much
pleasure, for it was very interesting,
to me when [ read it, in July, 1856,
now more than fifty-three years ago. I
recall it with pleasure, and nope to
interest some Of my readers now with
a glance at it's qualities as I recall
them. 1t was written by a true man
of letters, afterwards famous as ed
ltor Of Harper's Monthly for probably
thirty-five years. It was George Will
liam Curtis, who died a few years
ago. THE Howadji in Syria" is really
a leading and poetic book, writ
ten with singular felicity Of
diction, breathing upon the
heart Of the reader the fragrance Of
Oriental scenery, and infusing into the
mind the same exquisite sense OF
languid delight which the Bedouin OF
the great desert. repOsing languidly
under the shelters of his tent, smok-
in leisurely his dear ~chibouque, drinks
in as he gazes upon the scene, relieved
Wy I" III l. LIN VI 4"
Arab. The reader Afdes most pleas
antly along the smooth unrippled
stream of the narrative, delighted
continually by the e~ver-varying seen
ery-one while gazing upon the track
less wastes of sand, and anon stroll
ing the. streets Of cities hoary with
age. and appearing more sterile and
ancient than the hills overlooking
their decay I appreciated more per-
fectly the beauties so thickly strewn
4 =, rn ~, oh tho fo~oir - tio ~ 900 orir
nal pages of the worldwide known
Arabian Nights as | read in The
HoWadH' the descriptions
Of Eastern scenery in this genuine
Offering of a rich, original American
micd.
"Eothen' alone excepted of all the
books Of travel in the East, which /
CHANGED to read over half a century
age, appeared to me to have been
written after the models created by
those men Of statistics, whose sole
business seemed to be to give import
ant. but not ~infrequently most dry
and embarrassing details in a style ex-
Ccedirgly commonplace and u%ninvit-
ing. MIR. Curtis, following the exam
pie set most happily by the author of
"ECthtn," e~ndeavorS to give the read
er the result of his own wanderings,
in language at once chaste and ele-
CANT and to convey a vivid and faith
fuI picture CT life Syria, by producing,
ca dean paper, his " personal ex-
neriencee, observations and impress
SONS. as he Travelled the lonely desert
G visited the cities which form the
clerics of that land of the Bible.
Guide hooks are certainly very val
II bic to travellers, but then they give
Us & E0Cr insight into the man, man
r.rs ard customs Of the people, point
ing out oaly the beaten paths, and
Ceeignating, with great minuteness
~ $500 ~1.1a~ - f ~ or
ch5Ccts of interest. THE HoWdaJI'
aims at a great deal more-it gives us
OF a practical cOmmunica-
ton of the spirit and splendor OF
Eastern life, as seen With the clear
optics of a cultured and travelled
and travelled American man OF
New England. With him, ESQ raphl
and picture-like is his style, we Dol
u-0n the same star-lit sky, the same
bright morning sunlight, the same m
distinct pathways; with MN, we pc
hold the same immense drifts OF sand
hills, the same endless calm and un-
broken level of the desert; with him,
We the same slowly wind
ing and YEARLY p1Odd1ng caravan,
with him we greet with hearts or JOY
the same bright, beautiful GASES, green
with the emerald verdure or eden
which we pass on the same great ARID
ocean. Along with him gazing through
the same eager eyes we behold the
Syrian Stars, measuring without
struggle of contact, the purpoSe OF lie
ard renewing our vows to the truth
which life; and with him we dedl-
cate anew the unknown God, the altar
Cf our hearts, that seems sadly over
grown With him we feel the torrld
sun pour his rays upon us-the not
thick air smites our beings, and the
lean finger of death is shaken at US;
with him we feel the SOlemn1ty OF ue-
Spair, and the terror of ~suffocat1on'
until, with him, at last, we sleep WINE
a voice of running water sings throuSn
our memorable sound of streams
gurgling under the village bridge at
evening, and the laughter Of boys
bathing there. With him we cave