SCOPUS FROM THE MOUNT OF OLIVES.

Shiloh. Part of the walls of the ancient city are in the foreground, while beyond, on the side of a second hill, are the ruins of the building to the thick walls of which reference is made. The prospect is not a familiar one; and yet almost every Christian child on the face of the earth is told the story of the youth who became the great prophet of Shiloh. Probably Hophni and Phinehas, the renegade sons of Eli, descended this very pictured hill when, bearing the sacred ark with them, they went forth to the fatal battle of Ebenezer, where they lost their lives and the ark of God was taken. Not very far away "Eli sat upon a seat by the wayside watching: for his heart trembled for the ark of God." It may have been very near this "that he fell from off the seat backward by the side of the gate, and his neck brake, and he died."

Matters did not move on prosperously at Shiloh. Consequently on all sides the opinion grew that some of the neighboring nations were managed better. The Israelites had long been in the grip of the Philistines. Among other sore grievances forced upon them was the necessity of carrying their plows and other farming implements to the Philistine blacksmiths for repairs; because no Israelite was allowed to swell the bellows and swing the sledge lest he forge spears and armor, to say nothing of making iron chariots such as some of the invaders had. The hearts of the older and more serious Israelites were broken by seeing the masses forsake the God of Egypt, the God of Sinai, the God of the Wilderness of Kadesh, the God of Eli, for the diabolical worship of Baal

and Ashtaroth. For twenty years after the ark was taken no priest offered sacrifice, and but few were reverent enough to visit it while it rested quietly at Kirjath-jearim. The only ray of sunshine in all this moral and physical darkness was the devout Samuel. It was he who kept alive what little grace there was left. His work was a personal one for a time, for he did not dare at first to call a public assemblage. But when the Philistines found it was an injury to them and to their gods to hold the stolen ark, they concluded to restore it, and did indeed with great pomp send commissioners with it to Beth-shemesh. Samuel, with keen insight, understood their fear, and grew more bold. He called the famous assemblage of Mizpeh; prayed for the people; sacrificed a lamb at the altar "wholly unto the Lord: . . . and the Lord heard him." The battle of Mizpeh followed; the Philistines were defeated, and so subdued that no more trouble came from their quarter while Samuel lived.

The Bible does not define the location of Mizpeh as exactly as it does that of Shiloh. Nevertheless it is agreed that the long ridge called Scopus, which continues northward from the Mount of Olives, is the spot where Samuel took the oath of allegiance from the wandering people, and that not far from there he set up the stone of Ebenezer.

How marvelous is the view! You can see from the hill of Scopus better than from any other point how much lower is the hill on which

the holy city is located than any of the surrounding heights. The descent of the Valley of the Kedron and its depression appear much greater than when you are standing in the valley. The roofs of the houses of Siloam and the olive trees of Olivet appear small. Then there are the minarets, the broad domes, and the old gray walls of the city of David, with all of which we are familiar. A few minutes after the feet are turned descending towards Shiloh, the long mountain ridge, like a curtain, hides the historical theater from view, and the aspect presented by nature is desolate enough. The final battle with the Philistines occurred thereabouts. Israel seemed content with Samuel's

no fanatical pilgrims about, you may climb to its roof and obtain a very satisfactory view of the small Mohammedan wely, or tomb of a saint, and the hilly country around it. Bethlehem is in full view, and at night seems brought very close by its glimmering lights and the sounds which come from it, though it is a mile away.

While Saul was king down in the fields of Bethlehem, within sight of where Jesus was born more than a thousand years afterwards, David was occupied tending his father's sheep. It makes his history seem very real to visit fields just outside of Bethlehem, say towards the south-east. At first the slopes of the hills

government until the work grew too burdensome for him, and he sent his sons, Joel and Abiah, as his deputies, to the southern districts, with their headquarters at Beersheba. Then arose again, more strenuously than ever, the cry from the elders and from the people, "Make us a king to judge us like all the nations." Though the aged Samuel was displeased at this at first, the people refused to obey his voice, and in time a king was brought into Samuel's presence and anointed.

This interview and the parting of Saul and Samuel took place but a short distance from Rachel's sepulcher, about two miles south of Bethlehem. The surrounding country cannot have changed much during the thirty centuries and more which have passed away since Jacob set a pillar upon the grave of his wife, unless the stones have increased. If there are

seem barren and lifeless; but when you are upon them you will see that they are green, with plenty of highly tinted flowers growing in families everywhere. The monotony of the scene is broken by groups of olive trees and by the flocks of sheep which gather under them in the heat of the day. You may see young shepherds practicing with their slings, and sometimes putting their home-made weapons to a use which you had not suspected. If a member of the flock strays too far away from his fellows he is first gently called, "Tally-henna, ya giddi" ("Come here, you kid"). But if that does not avail, he is brought to his senses by a stone sent whizzing after him from the shepherd's sling.

In one of the Bethlehem fields you may see the ruins of a strongly built stone structure. It is called the "Shepherd's Castle." Great

blocks of stone, which seem to have formed part of the "castle," lie under the neighboring olive trees. There are several caves close by, which are used now for the protection of the sheep during the colder weather. The long line of dark in the far distance is a part of the hills of Moab. The Dead Sea lies sunken near their western base. No place made familiar by the history of David is very far away. Here David was when Samuel visited the house of Jesse, the father of David, and Jesse sent for his son to come home and meet the man of God. Much of history was written upon the few miles of country which came within his circuit.

The women's quarters are next, separated by tent-cloth and rugs. An improvised divan of the same material is the only piece of furniture in the "hospitality tent.”

On such a sumptuous article of antique furniture my companions and I sat and suffered "hospitality " for nearly four hours. A fire of twigs was first built. That was very welcome. for the night was chilly. Twenty-five natives, who, attended by one old veiled woman, came to share the fire and the feast, were not so agreeable. Each one brought a "contribution," usually some twigs for fuel. Coffee was made with great ceremony. Several of the men took part in bruising the blessed bean in a wooden

The humblest Bedouin does his best to reserve what he dubs his "hospitality tent," and is always willing to entertain strangers, be they "angels unawares," or probable subjects for brigandage after they are a half-day's journey from his quarters. I have good cause to remember always the "hospitality" I accepted from a murderous tribe of Azazimehs not more than a dozen miles away from where David guarded Nabal's flocks. A "feast" was part of the programme, and it was as full and as good as the one which David gave-"a cake of bread, and a good piece of flesh, and a flagon of wine"-when the ark was brought into Jerusalem, and it was served with much ceremony. In an Arab village the tents are arranged on three sides of a plot of ground with the fourth side open. The " hospitality tent" is usually at one end, near the open.

mortar, with a pestle almost as long as the arm. Tune or time was kept with the rude implements. If a younger person than the one officiating at the pestle entered the tent, he politely resumed the labor and caught up the tune. The coffee was boiled in a ladle and the water was cleared in the same utensil. Oftentimes water is as scarce as coffee - always less plenty than milk. Three times the mocha was served in tiny china cups, one of which had been broken and was mended with copper bands and wire. Next a sheik was sent out with sword in hand to slaughter a sheep for the feast. While he was gone a two-gallon bowl of leben, or sour goat's milk, was kept in circulation, all drinking from it. The plenteous American mustache came in protectingly useful then. If it was smeared with the dainty lactate the "hospitality" giver was content.

How long this ceremony would have continued no one could have conjectured had not a crosseyed Azazimeh, a nephew of the sheik, come in late and hungry from some marauding jaunt and emptied the bowl. It was the only cause for gratitude we had during the entire feast. In about three hours a great wooden bowl was brought in, filled with stewed meat and barley pancakes by no means a distasteful combination. With fingers all helped themselves from the same bowl until all were satisfied; then the feast ended. For this accommodation on our part we were treated next day very much as David was by the children of Keilah, for we were not allowed to depart until we had fully paid for the hospitality, with usury added.

Surely these wild people show more of the characteristics of the Bedouin David and his outlaw band than do the modern Hebrews who flock to Palestine and lead an idle, dependent life in order that they may end their days in the land of their forefathers.

RUNNING across the whole country from south-west to north-east, beginning at the Mediterranean just north of Mount Carmel and reaching up like the arm of some great giant submerged in the sea to the mountains which line the west side of the Jordan, and then reaching between the ranges to the very shores of the sacred river, is a vast plain. If you could obtain a topographical view of it from a balloon, the Jordan side would present the appearance of a mutilated hand. The mountain ridges would appear to you like fingers; their highest peaks as knuckles; and the narrow valleys, to carry out the simile, as the spaces between the fingers reaching to the Jordan. This lovely expanse is the plain of Jezreel, or, in softer Greek, the plain of Esdraelon.

Our observations begin at Jenin. It is a typical town of northern Palestine, with its fruit gardens, its lovely water supply, and its groves of palms. There, too, is the inevitable broad dome of the mosque, and, overreaching all in height,