The Holy Land and Syria

by Frank G. Carpenter

The Jaffa of to-day stands upon a bluff washed by the Mediterranean Sea. The city is built right on the rocks, with its yellow, white, and blue houses coming down to the cliff edge. They rise up the steep sides of the bluff which makes a wall cutting off the view of the country behind. At the south of the bluff, as far as one can see, are white sands. At the north are orange groves and then more sand.

As we left the ship we came down a gangway and were lifted into the boats. The third-class and steerage passengers were hung over the sides of the deck of the steamer by the arms, and dropped down into the boats, twelve or more feet below. Some of the women screamed as they fell, making the rocks reëcho with their cries as though the beautiful Andromeda were still chained there. We had no trouble with the customs, largely, I believe, because our dragomans had given the officers a liberal amount of baksheesh. The examination was short, and within half an hour after landing we were comfortably housed at the Jerusalem Hotel. I mention this hotel because I found it was kept by a character who was for a long time our American consular agent. His name is Hardegg, and he spices his food with a religious doctrine of his own kind. The hotel rooms are not numbered 1, 2, 3, etc., but are named after the sons of Israel and the various Old Testament prophets. Each of them contains a book which Hardegg has compiled entitled “Bible Pills.” It is composed of texts from the Scriptures fitted to one’s daily life.

The city of Jaffa has normally about fifty thousand inhabitants of whom the majority are Mohammedans and the rest Christians and Jews. It has considerable trade and is rapidly growing. The rich plains of Sharon at the back furnish sesame, grain, and olive oil, while the highlands of Judea and Samaria produce wool, just as they did in the times of our Saviour. All about the town are orange groves the fruit of which is shipped to all parts of the Mediterranean. The oranges are almost the shape of a lemon, but they are of a great size and sweet as honey. They are packed up in boxes at the groves and carried down to the harbour on the backs of camels. I met the caravans of these huge beasts swaying along as they made their way to the steamers.

I was taken through the native quarters of Jaffa by a young Syrian named Moses. We went together through streets so narrow and winding that carriages could not enter them, and at times we were altogether shaded by the houses, the roofs of which almost touched overhead. We entered several of the dwellings. Each consisted of but one room facing a court where the men, women, and children were herded together.

The house of Simon the Tanner was destroyed some centuries ago, but another house, which is probably of the same character, stands on its site, and tanning is still done in the neighbourhood. At least, it seems so by the smells. This house is now used as a second-class inn. It is a rocky structure, built high up over the sea, with steps outside which lead to the second story and roof. I climbed to the top, and there saw about the same view as did St. Peter. In front of me the blue Mediterranean stretched out toward the west. At the north were the glistening sands reaching toward the ruins of Cæsarea and the foothills of Mount Carmel, while at the south were the hills near which stood Askalon. It was here that St. Peter had that wonderful dream, in which he beheld all the beasts of the world let down from heaven in a sheet, in order that he might eat of them. You remember that he refused, saying: “Not so, Lord! for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.”

And then came a voice which said: “What God hath cleansed that call not thou common.”

It was these words that first led to the preaching of the Gospel to the Gentiles, bringing about the conversion of Cornelius, the Roman centurion, and later on the preaching of Christ to all the world.

As my guide refreshed my biblical memory with this story, he told me of an American who had visited this place with him last week. Said Moses:

“This American was a funny man, and it seemed to me a foolish one. He was not satisfied with seeing this house, but he asked me to show him the vision that St. Peter saw, and demanded to know what had become of the sheet. He said he did not think he ought to pay me unless I could show him the vision, but I told him that I could not do that unless he had St. Peter’s heart, and I was sure that he had not.”