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Carmel. Although the fields are rich with growing grain, yet they too are almost devoid of trees, save where some Jewish colony with its picturesque tileLroofed houses, is surrounded by its grove of fast growing eucalyptus. L ooking T oward C armel Beyond the plain lies the sea. Its blue waters are sparkling beneath the warm sunshine. Upon the sea- coast to the southwest lies Jaffa, the principal freight port of Palestine. From Jaffa northward to Carmel, along the seashore stretches -a strip of glistening white sand. It varies from a mile to three miles in width. Across this strip of sand, and almost directly west of us, lie the ruins of Caesarea, the ancient capital of Palestine in the times of the Romans. A little farther to the north are the ruins of Athlit, perhaps the most extensive ruins of Crusader times to be found in the land. Then still farther north the headland of Carmel juts abruptly out into the sea, and walls off the view of the coast farther north. The long ridge of Carmel presents a striking contrast to the surrounding country. While the plain and hills are almost devoid of trees, Carmel is a tangled mass of ghrubs and underbrush. The oak, or terebinth, and the carob predominate, though trees of many varieties grow there in profusion. In the winter and spring, and even far into the summer, when other parts of Palestine are seared and barren, innumerable wild flowers are beautify ing this mountain with their presence, and filling the air with their fragrance. The Hebrews well named this mount, when they called it Carmel, “The Garden.” At the east end of the mountain, a narrow pass con nects the Plain of Sharon, to the west of us, with the Plain of Esdraelon, to the north. It is the pass of Megiddo. Through this pass, the traffic of the centuries, and even
Walks and Talks in
Holy Places (Artideii) H erbert H. T a y T HE visitor in Palestine is invariably impressed with the diminutive size of the land. Sitting in his room in this country, and reading in the Scriptures the records of events which transpired in Palestine, gives one the impression that it is a large country. So many are the incidents, and so numerous are the places-' named, that surely it would require a large country to contain them all. But such is not the case. The land of Palestine is no larger than some counties in some of our western states. Between Dan and Beersheba, and Jordan and the Great Sea, is inclosed a little country which is about equal in area to the state of Massachusetts, Palestine is literally a country that can be seen at a glance. We had the opportunity to see Palestine at a glance while we were in Shechem, where we had gone to attend the Samaritan Passover. The city of Shechem, or Nablus, as it is now called by the Arabs, lies in a narrow valley between the twin mountains of Ebal and Gerizim. Gerizim is the more famous, but Ebal is higher, and affords an excellent view of the entire land of Palestine. Let us ■climb to the top of this mountain, which is slightly over three thousand feet above the level of the Mediterranean, and see Palestine “at a glance.” The ascent from Shechem is steep and rocky, and upon a hot day is anything but pleasant. Yet the prospect from this lofty eminence is well worth the effort spent-in getting there. T he H ills of J udea Looking southward, over the mass of Gerizim rising in the immediate foreground, we see the rugged, treeless crests of the Judean hills. As far as the eye can reach can be seen an interminable expanse of hilltops rising one behind the other. Indeed the entire country as far as Beersheba, although we cannot see that far; presents the appearance of the tossing waves of a troubled sea. The protruding crests of the nearby hills are light gray in color. This color is lent by the bleaching rocks on their barren slopes. But distance lends enchantment, and the somber landscape changes to a beautiful delicate blue, and finally fades into the purple haze of the distance. Though the Holy City itself is not visible from this point, yet one can faintly discern, far to the south, a cluster of buildings upon a barren hilltop. That is En Nebi Samwil, ancient Mizpah, and it is but five miles from Jerusalem. The intervening hills are bare and rocky, and only here and there do we see a tree, the last survivor of the ravages of time, elements, and the destructive hand of man. Turning slightly to the west, we see that the hills grad ually drop away to the level plain. That is, it appears to be level from the eminence upon which we are standing, but in reality it is gently undulating. Now the bare gray of the hills gives way to the delightful green of the fields of.growing grain. This quiet pastoral scene stretches away to the south as far as we can see. From Gaza, the southern most border of the land, and last outpost of civilization before one crosses the waste “Desert of Egypt,” this plain continues northward to a point slightly north and west of where we are standing. There the fruitful Plain of Sharon is abruptly intercepted by the sharp ridge of
A FISH ING BOAT AT CAPERNAUM A SNAP SHOT BY MR. TAY
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