IN THE WAKE OF THE RISING SUN.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXIX, Issue 10, 7 March 1901, Page 5

IN THE WAKE OF THE RISING SUN.

(By ' Viator.'

Beyrout, Syria, December 6, 1900. After a visit to the Mena House Hotel, rich in every modern luxury, we came back with the evening to Cairo. Along the road the dusky fellaheen moved in picturesque groups, and stately oamels with singling bells and modest donkeys with their riders were silhouetted against the setting sun, reflecting in theae novel protipa the imagery and quaintness and unchangeableness of the East. On either side of the acacia trees, that flanked the roadway, the low, green level stretched for miles, picked out here and there with patches of reedy marsh, or shallow lagoon b, or harrowed out soil — all empurpled in the rioh sunset. From the fields of rice and maize and sugar oane came the ' furrowed ox in loose traces ' and the little and scantily-clad fellaheen and the inevitable donkeys. Along the road were blue-clad women coming from the spring with stone water-jars poised daintily on their heads, others with tiny mahogany babies sitting astride on their shoulders or over the hipß —cavaliers on restless steeds, Bedouins with long strings of camels, donkey-boys following up their patient charges, all flashed in clear and novel vignette in the last beams of the lowering sum. To Cairo we jog easily behind our wiry ponies past motley crowds of street vendors and professional beggars looking for bakshish, through the lighted streets, along the narrow bazaars whose shops in their far recesses are gay with curios and colored glass and brass ooffee-potn shining and simmering, past groups of men placidly smoking the nargillehs or singing to Allah and reading passages from the Koran sublimely indifferent to other mortals who, in their untutored simplicity, marvel at the wonders unfolded in the new conditions of life in the Orient— conditions that change not with the new order, that are deep set in the impregnable traditions of a long and ohequered past. Cairo, as we drove to Shepheard's, gleamed around us in white and yellow houses and domes and nodding palms like a fairy city, while the long lines of the Mokattan Hills stood out as sturdy sentinels over the busy farms. We were taken to visit the Citadel on a lofty hill whence an idea may be formed of the magnitude and population of Cairo, and whenoe a commanding view is had of the spreading city, the Burrounding country, the minarets and* domes beneath and in the dißtanoe the encircling Mokattan Hills. Here is the scene of the murder of the Mamalukes, the Egyptian Janissaries, by Mahomet Ali in 1811, and here, too, is shown the place whence Emm Bey, to avoid the murderers, leaped his horse over the parapet, killing indeed his steed, but escaping, so says the tradition, without personal injury. Alas ! for the weakness of human faith. The leap is some 30 feet from parapet to ground, and bo we listen and pass on and dim the romance by writing it down as a myth. We visited here the mosque of Mahomet Ali, glittering in alabaster columns, and showing wondrous colors through the many-colored windows in the walls and clerestory. We asked our dragoman, the gentle Sadi Oman, if he, too, would like to join the worshippers. With a broad smile from ear to ear he was at his oblations in the twinkling of an eye, doffed his mantle and shoes, and was at his prostrations with as keen a devotion as the others. We were given full-sized sandals to wear over our shoes, and thus equipped made the tour of the mosque. Countless small glass lamps were hanging from cut-glass and bramn chandeliers all over the building to within a few feet of the floor, and all around on carpets, fronting niches pointing to Mecca, swarthy, Btolid Moslems were on their kneeß praying to Allah, anon prostrating head to earth in the earnestness of their devotions. So nave we seen them on steamers, in the streets, in the depths of the oountry, in the crowded bazaars, nothing recking of the observer, paying their vows according to their creed, and after the manner of the Koran adoring the Most High. And when towards sundowD, as often in the day, the muezzin from the minaret top calls in shrill monotonous tones to prayer, we have seen the pious followers of the Prophet seek a coigne of vantage and, indifferent of things of earth, sing the praises of Allah, and prostrate in prayer. Strong, unshakable in their convictions and customs, they erect to human eyes an impregnable bulwark to the Christian message. Hkliopolis. It was a pleasant drive, if hot, to the 'City of the Sun,' some six miles from Cairo. To mark the Bite of the ancient capital, at one time second only to Memphis, there remain b but one monument, the famous obelisk in rose granite of Assarian, covered with hieroglyphics. It is the oldest obelisk in Egypt, yet it remains erect in situ. Its neighbour and companion during thousands of years was ' Cleopatra's Needle,' now decorating the Thames Embankment. Here stood the ' City of the Sun,' and from this city went forth in the ages a colony of priests to found the great Syrian city of Baalbec, of whioh we shall have in time to speak. We looked at the column standing all alone and mused at the ravages of time. As we mused and gazed in reverie we were surrounded by a crowd of peasant children, lithe, bronze, quarter-clad, asking for the inevitable bakshish— but degenerate in blood, and aim, and purpose, fallen from high state, and beneath the juggernaut oar of felonious landlordism, dragging out an existence in national thraldom in the questionable interests of those who govern them. Poor fallen fellaheen of Egypt. Their lot it is ' To scorn delights and live laborious days.' But they know not of aim or aspiration or freedom. ' Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise, That last infirmity of noble mind.' They know not of the aspirations and claims and rights of manhood or nationhood. They know as little of the pulsations of the world, of the Boer War, the Chinese Boxers, the New Zealand penny post as the doll ass and ox and camel they drive .in the farrows. So

have the mighty fallen in Egypt, for their relics tell in the face of the nations that the land produced great men and able in the brave days of old. ' The earth hath bubbles as the water hath And these are of them.' So it iB written that ' Troy was.' THE BLESSED VIRGIN'S TREE. Not far from ' The City of the Sun,' on the road back to Cairo, is the village of AtaLarieli waeiv, tradition record, the Holj Family rested after their flight into Egypt. ' The Blegsed Virgin's Tree ' and • the Bleased Virgin's Well ' mark the place of rating. An avenue rich in orange, palm, and banana trees leads from the high road to the ' Garden of Balm ' where stands the aged sycamore, venerated for ages for the ' Blessed Virgin's Tree.' To the left is a rustic water-wheel used in pumping up the water from the ' miraculous spring.' Harnessed to the shaft was a bullock, blindfolded ; and round and round he plodded his weary way the while crystal water flowed into watercourse and cistern. The most celebrated of all the souvenirs at Matarieh is its spring or well. The Mussulmans have at all times venerated this spring as being endowed with marvellous virtues. Tradition adds that the washing of the Child Jesus in the waters of Matarieh miraculously imparted to them extraordinary sweetness and purity. The water of Matarieh is in fact so good, especially that in the Garden of Balm, that formerly the Paschas of Cairo had it brought for their use at table, whilst everywhere else around the water raised by the sakgeh* or water-mills a short distance from the river has a distinctly saline or brackish taste. The existence indeed of a spring, distant from the infiltrations of the Nile, in a soil formed by alluvial depo3it, and far removed from hilla, in a county too like this where the rainfall scarcely moistens the highways eight or nine times a year, is in itself a phenomenon sufficiently extraordinary. The ' Virgin's Tree ' at Matarieh stands about 50 yards to the east of the spring. Tradition tells that on leaving Heliopolis the Divine exiles made their way to the sycamore which is now named the ' Tree of Matarieh,' and that being pursued by malefactors the trunk of the tree opened of itself and offered them a safe refuge from attack. The ' Virgin's Tree ' is a sycamore — a true sycamore of the East ; but in no wiße resembling the Bpecies of maple called sycamore which grows in Western countries. It is enclosed by railings, but we managed, by judicious expenditure of bakshish to secure some of the leaves. Such trees are met in Syria and Palestine. Sycamore trees are associated with Zachaeus, who wished to see Our Lord pass, and with Judas, who banged himself on one near the gates of Jerupalein. Tho' ' The Virgin's Tree ' bears marks of age no one contends that it is the same tree that sheltered the Holy Family. The present tree, as far as I could learn from the Jesuit Fathers close by, dates back some 300 years, but it may be an offshoot from the original stock, the roots of which did not perißh with the tree itßelf. Our veneration extends more to the spot than to the tree. The Virgin's sycamore is for us a sign, a memento of a touching scene, but it is not a relic. In thought we were borne back through the ages to the days when the Son of God fled from mortal attack, and we blessed Providence that we were able to kiss the ground where trod the footsteps of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Close at hand the Jesuit Fathers have a house of Btudies and an oratory to the Blessed Virgin, and here it was, under the fierce gleams of an Egyptian sun, we first met our countryman, Rev. Patrick Kane, S.J., — kind, genial courteous, and and helpful. Before leaving we took a farewell glance from the top of the enclosure at the rich plains of Heliopolis — the sight of departed greatness — ' Magni nominis umbra ' — the scene, too, in more recent times of a great feat of arms by the French troopa under Kleber. Here it was on the 20th March, 1800, that Kleber with 10,000 soldiers defeated a mighty army of 80,000 Moslems. The battle raged around Heliopolis and Matarieh. When victory declared for the French army, Kleber, it is said, went to Matarieh and with his sword engraved his name on the ' Virgin's Tree.' THE CRYPT OF THE HOLY FAMILY. On the eastern bank of the Nile, facing the pyramids of Ghizeh, and ancient Memphis, and about 3 miles from the European quarter of the capital, extend dwelling houses, gardens, old conventa, markets and ruins for over a league in length, the whole forming a suburb to the great city, and called Old Cairo Here, according to a very ancient tradition, the Holy Family stopped for a time on their journey into Egypt. Over the spot, thus sanctified by the Divine exiles' presence, stands an ancient crypt bearing testimony to the venerable tradition. It is called Kasr-eeh-Shamaah. The door is dug out like a hole in the huge Roman wall at the foot of an actual pit six feet lower than the roadway. There is no Bhop here, no sound of work, not a step to be heard nor a voice. All is silent as the tomb. All those around are Christians, but either Copt or Greek schismatics. Here was the Coptic Church of St. Sergius built over the spot where the Holy Family are said to have made their resting place. Here in early days was a church built, it is said, by St Helena. But in the seventeenth century the Catholics were driven out by Coptic echismatics, and at the present day no Catholic worphip is publicly allowed in the crypt. This little history, it may be said, is purely legendary. • I cannot tell how the truth may be I tell the tale as it was told to me.' My authority for most of the details in regard to the stopping places of the Holy family in Egypt is the Rev. P. M, Julien, S.J., of the College of Fagollah, Cairo. While in Cairo we frequently saw the Khedive with turbonsh or crimson fez on head, driving in open carriage amongst his orowds of motley subjects, enclosed front, rear, and flank by platoons of mounted soldiery,

1 lie wields his little trident Ami wears his sapphire crown.' On the island of Rhodda, near Old Cairo, an island luxuriant in groves and gardens, and near the spot marked by tradition as the place in the bulrushes where Moks was found by Pharaoh's daughter, is the Kilometer, or column about 30 feet high, Bunk in a wall-like chamber, and registering the rise and fall of the great river that fertilises the land of Egypt. When the Nilometer registers a rise of 27 feet, then there is joy in the land and the water courses are open for the visit of the great fertiliser. THE DERVISHES. Once a week — every Friday about 2 o'clock — Luke plaoc LLe religious exercises of the fanatical orders of Dervishes. In the mosque ot Kasi-el-Sin we saw the howling Dervishes go through their dreary, weird performances, quite regardless of the presence of strangers. The performers under the lead of an elder, standing in a circle, at first bend their heads to and fro in unison while ejaculating invocations to Allah in peculiar dismal groans. The swaying gradually becomes more rapid and more violent, till the shaggy manes of the Dervishes sweep the floor front and rear. We were not moved to enthusiasm over the giddy exercise, but we marvelled much that men should find in shouts and groans and howls the fit exterior sign of inward faith and devotion and fervor. But the dancing Dervishes at the Gekizeh El-Akban afford a spectac'e more elegant and interesting than their brothers the ' howlers.' Dressed in white robe, with light mantle of the same, and white fez to match, they extend the arms to the full and revolve in silence, within narrow limit?, at the rate of (50 to 70 timeß a minute. And this, mark you, for over a half hour at a time. The howlers evoke a feeling of pity, if not of disgust, but I must say that the gyrations of the dancers in complete silence and extended arms had in them something of the elegant that pleases and captivates. After a brief rest they rise refreshed and in silent gravity take the floor with renewed zest to gyrate with placid face and immobile features in proof of their lofty sanctity. While at Matarieh v. c paid a visit to an ostrich farm close by. where some 1400 of these gigantic birds are kept. Some of the male birds, leviathans of their species, are kept in walled courts securely barred, for no one could resist their attack. A big industry is here fostered in feathers, eggp. and ostriches. The last evening we spent in Grand Cairo, Friday, November 30, feast of St. Andrew, we strolled through the city, charmed observers of the passing phases and forms, and colors and occupations of Oriental life. Yet here, too, we noted the incongruity of the tram car and the bicycle rubbing wheel and tyre ayainst the Btaid. unchanging primitive implements of the Oriental. On tbe morning of Saturday. December 1, wo took train for Alexandria and through a veritable (hist storm nil oxer the v alley of the Nile we took farewell, with f-ome regret, of this cradle land of the earliest civilisation and culture, no*', through centuries of exploitation and misrule, of plunder arid fight and conquest lying at the feet of a western power 'pledged' 'to maintain order,' 'to sustain the local authority.' ' to advise the Khedive, by means of a standing army,' 'with the object of securing that tbe order of things to be established shall be of a patisfactory character, and possess the elements of stability and progress.' Xo one may deny that some such power is needed to hold together the heterogeneous elements of which modern Egypt — however great its pa-»t — is at present composed Arrived at Alexandria in the early afternoon we called at the British Consulate to have our ' fezgirehs ' or passports duly signed and countersigned, for no one unprovided with this ' open sesame ' may hope to enter the Holy Land so jealously guarded by the Mussulman. ON THE WAY TO PORT SAIL) AM) UEYROCT. A visit of farewell to our good ship, tbe Syrian Prince, to tbe captain and officers, was the only prelude to our taking up cur quarters on the Rhamanieh, of the Khedival line of steamer- rt<, route to Port Said and Ueyrout on the Syrian coast. It was fairylike at evening as we slipped our mooring and stood down channel. The dome of dark blue, edged with pink and crimson lace, the clustering shadows stalking across the rising wavelets, themnelves alight in phosphorescent brilliancy, the sentinel stars peeping out cold and clear and piercing, told ua of the pictures we saw drawn from the life by classic writers. Sunday, December 2, found us at Port Said, the narrow waterway of two worlds. Here Madame was stricken with Egyptian fever. We wended our way with Celtic instinct to the convent of the 'Good Shepherd' Sisters, and here indeed we sought not in vain the hospitable kindly assistance of that type of charity and mercy — the Good Shepherd nnn — ' When pain and anguish wring the brow. A ministering angel thou.' Ere nightfall our patient, though weak, felt better, and by the advice of the medical officer of the Naval Hospital, Dr. Jeffrey, was moved, with the kindly asuistance of one of the Sibters, to the Bteamer. Nothing in Port Said became us like the leaving it. As we got to the open a cry broke from the sailors, ' A man overboard,' and from the bridge we saw a sailor fall from the yards. All was rush and consternation. 'It was a passenger.' 'It was a case of suicide.' ♦He is lost.' 'Ihey are bringing the corpse aboard.' 'Ea fama vagatur.' 'So doth busy rumor ever lie.' A life-belt was thrown like a streak of lightning— a boat shot from the davits, a few minutes of harrowing dread and fear ! But the brave lad was picked up, and was quit of the accident with a ducking. In the Still starry night, calm and peaceful as a saintly soul, we make north for Syria, the goal of our hopes. Under easy steam, for the captain is in no hurry by reason of quarantine in force on the Syrian coast, we make our way northward, and awake on the morning of Tuesday, December 4, to Bee rising over against our steamer,

the houses and hills, and groves and garden*, and nodding fronds of the piilma of Beyrout. The medical officer, grim, grave, and grandiose, in frock-coat and scarlet fez is soon on board and examines all the ship's company with discriminating eye. Madame, we are thankful, has recovered from her fever, and all present the Turkish officer with a clean bill. None the lets — for there is a haunting fear of plague from Egypt — we are condemned to 48 hoars' quarantine. There is a crumb of comfort. The deck and second-class passengers are hustled off to the Lazaretto. We are privileged to pass our durance on shipboard — hence these notes. The only access to Syria and Palestine during these days of quarantine is by Beyrout. From Beyrout we purpose visiting Bailhec and Damascus, before entering on. the sacred soil of Paleetine.