Hang sparkling in the sky:
While the breath of the summer breeze
Comes whispering down the glen,
And one fond voice alone is heard—
Oh, night is lovely then.”
The horse and his rider lay side by side, and the watch-fires, burning dimly, shed a livid glare upon the sleepers. The moon, growing brighter as she ascended, silvered each spear of grass and blade of corn, while far away to the east, amid the mountain glens of Samaria,
“Shadows wandered free,
But spoke not o’er the idle ground.”
It was now midnight, and I was alone, a stranger in a strange land, without one near me whose face I had seen beyond the ocean. The heavens only were familiar; the moon and stars of my childhood were as old companions; but, rising above the one and the other, I sought communion with Him who is enthroned on high.
The morning dawned inauspiciously; the gossamer veil of the previous night had been folded into thick clouds, which obscured the summits of the distant hills. While we werewaiting for our muleteer to load his beast, there occurred a scene illustrating the tenacity of Eastern customs. In our party was Dr. Barclay, the eminent American physician of Joppa. His fame had preceded him, and, learning of his arrival, the villagers brought out their sick of all ages, and for a time our encampment became a hospital. Among the number was a young girl, who with faltering step came leaning upon the arm of her mother. She was pale and emaciated, and apparently in the last stages of consumption. The doctor examined her symptoms, questioned her mother, and prescribed for the patient, who long since, I fear, has passed to another world. Such was a faint illustration of the days of the Savior, when “they brought unto him those having all manner of diseases, and he cured them.” In a country where science is neglected, materia medica is unknown, the barber is the physician, bloodletting is the panacea for all diseases, and the “medicine-man” of more enlightened lands is revered next to God.