the cloudless blue." Probably in his own dooryard he the rather noted some more homely scene, like the brooding fowl, the clucking hen, calling her young under her wings, for this subsequently furnished him with one of his most suggestive illustrations. We may be sure that as a lover of nature he would have appreciated any sketch like the one given us in the Rhesus of Euripides. Some Trojan soldiers, who had done sentinel duty during the night, were in the early morning repairing to their tents for sleep. But they stopped to listen to the pleasant sounds of the dawn, a nightingale singing on the banks of the Simois, a flock of sheep bleating on the top of Mt. Ida, and a shepherd's musical pipe sending forth its notes. We are reminded again of the idyllic scene painted by Daniel Webster when he spoke of farmers listening "to the bleatings of their own flocks upon their own hills, and to the voice of the lark that cheers them at the plough." Tarrying at the place where Christ was brought up, we think of him in connection with birds and sheep and shepherds, these giving him practical lessons for daily life.

From Nazareth we journey on with renowned Mt. Tabor in sight, and we pass through what is supposed to have been Cana, where the first miracle was wrought at the wedding. As the poet, Richard Crashaw of the seventeenth century, in that most admired of all his lines, so beautifully said,

"The conscious water saw its God, and blushed.”

Farther on we see the "Horns of Hattin," the mountain where Jesus is thought by some to have spoken his beatitudes, and where Saladin seven hundred years ago gained his decisive victory over the thousands of Crusaders, ending the shortlived Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem. He invited some of his most distinguished captives to his tent, refreshed them with

sherbets cooled by snow from Hermon, and then deliberately put them to death.

On still we ride, until, at a sudden turn in the road, one of the never-to-be-forgotten views is that of the Sea of Galilee, 682 feet below the level of the Mediterranean, lying low down among the hills, lovely as a picture. Our experience is enriched by a sail over this sheet of water. From Tiberias on its shore, we pass the traditional locality of Magdala, where Mary Magdalene lived, and of Bethsaida, "Now Philip was from Bethsaida, of the city of Andrew and Peter." We go on to Tell Hum, ancient Capernaum, once "exalted unto heaven," but now as foretold brought "down to Hades" indeed, for its very site has been a matter of dispute. Here recently has been unearthed a synagogue, which is claimed not improbably to be the one donated outright to the Jews by the centurion, the rich nobleman, whose servant was "dear" unto him, but lying at the point of death. His recovery was earnestly asked of the Lord by a grateful delegation, who urged it on the ground of their benefactor's generosity, "himself built us our synagogue. This was a structure 74 by 56 feet, constructed of large blocks of coarse marble not found in that region. It seems to have been destroyed by an earthquake. Almost all its stones are on the ground, and this ancient sanctuary could thus be rebuilt, and such a restoration would greatly increase the interest of a visit there.

Returning over the waters of "blue Galilee," we look back, and away to the north rises Mt. Hermon, which is perpetually snow-capped, and which most splendidly dominates the view. This and not the green summit of Mt. Tabor is probably where the transfiguration occurred, when garments, says Luke, became "white and dazzling," and says Mark, "glistening, exceeding white." Both these writers may have

had their portrayal colored by the fact of the snow on the mountain, where the Master and his disciples were.

Dropping down to something more prosaic, we eat fish caught as of old from this lake, whose memories are innumerable. Here Christ found his first disciples, mending and washing their nets. On Galilee's billows he peacefully slept, while all others were frightened at the violence of the storm that arose. From a boat rocking on its clear rippling waters, he preached to the multitude on the shore. On Gennesaret's beach one of his appearances after the resurrection took place. Never can we forget Nazareth and Galilee. There is now a pictorial significance to the New Testament passage, "and leaving Nazareth, he came and dwelt in Capernaum, which is by the sea."

In avoiding the harder trip horseback down through Samaria, we miss one thing which we would like particularly to see, Jacob's Well, on whose curb the Lord sat when wearied with His journey, while yet to the sinning woman he talked refreshingly of the living water. Most of us without going there have a clear conception of its main association as portrayed by the gospel writer, and also by the artist in "Jesus and the Woman of Samaria." With this passing allusion to an event of tender significance, we retrace our way to the Mediterranean shore and board our ship, although the traveler now from Haifa can proceed by railroad either to Damascus or to the Holy City.

Sitting on deck as we are bound for Jerusalem, we remember that this center has a special significance. As Rome furnished the world-wide empire that was favorable to the spread of the gospel in the first century, and as Greece for the helping of the movement gave the universal language, the holy city provided the distinctively religious element. The Jews