enterprises which, if successful, would change the appearance of many of
the towns. Fortunately they are not likely to be successful, at least in
our day. The brooding spirit of the East can be trusted to defend itself
against the innovating West. For the present, at least, Palestine is a
fascinating country to travel in.

A traveler in Ceylon and India writes to a religious paper of his
journey. He says, "Colombo has little to interest the tourist, yet it is
a fine city." One who reads between the lines understands that the fact
that it is a fine city is the cause of its uninterestingness. His
impression of Madura was more satisfactory. There one can see the
Juggernaut car drawn through the streets by a thousand men, though it is
reluctantly admitted that the self-immolation of fanatics under the
wheels is no longer allowed. "The Shiva temple at Madura is the more
interesting as its towers are ornamented with six thousand idols."

The writer who rejoiced at the sight of six thousand idols in Madura,
would have been shocked at the exhibition of a single crucifix in his
meeting-house at home.

I confess that I have not been able to overcome the Tory prejudice in
favor of vested interests in historical places. If one has traveled
to see "the old paths which wicked men have trodden," it is a
disappointment to find that they are not there. I had such an experience
in Capri. We had wandered through the vineyards and up the steep, rocky
way to the Villa of Tiberius. On the top of the cliff are the ruins of
the pleasure-house which the Emperor in his wicked old age built for
himself. Was there ever a greater contrast between an earthly paradise
and abounding sinfulness? Here, indeed, was "spiritual wickedness in
high places." The marvelously blue sea and all the glories of the Bay of