ith Mr. Cass Reid and other friends, made it possible for us to enjoy
intelligently our brief visit. It was just a dream of pleasure. Time
forbids my describing the marvellous work of that and other colleges.
Men of ambition, utterly irrespective of race, colour, creed, or sect,
sit side by side as the alumni. The humanity, not the other-worldliness,
of the leaders has made even the Turks, steeped in the blood of their
innocent Christian subjects, recognize the untold value of these
Christian universities, and kept them, their professors, and buildings,
safe during the war.

Dr. Bliss, of Beyrout, once told us a humorous story about himself. He
had just been addressing a large audience in New York, when
immediately after his speech the chairman rose and announced, "We will
now sing the one hundred and fiftieth hymn, 'From the best bliss that
earth imparts, we turn unfilled to Thee again.'"

The preservation of Ephesus was a surprise to us, though of late the
Turks have been carrying off its precious historic marble to burn for
lime for their fields. One large marble font in an old Byzantine
baptistry was broken up for that purpose while we were there. We stood
on the very rostrum in the theatre where St. Paul and the coppersmith
had trouble--while at the time of our visit, the only living
inhabitant of that once great city was a hungry ass which we saw
harboured in a dressing-room beneath the platform.

The anachronism of buzzing along a Roman road, which had not been
repaired since the days of the Caesars, on our way to Pergamos, in the
only Ford car in the country, was punctuated by having to get out and
shove whenever we came to a cross-drain. These always went over
instead of under the road--only on an exaggerated Baltimorian plan.
One night at Soma, which is the end of the branch railroad in the
direction of Pergamos, we were in the best hotel, which, however, was
only half of it for humans. A detachment of Turkish soldiers were
billeted below in the quarters for the other animals. Snow was on the
ground, and it was bitterly cold. The poor soldiers slept literally on
the stone floor. We were cold, and we felt so sorry for them, that
after we had enjoyed a hot breakfast, in a fit of generosity we sent
them a couple of baskets of Turkish specialties. Later in the day we
noticed that wherever we went a Turkish soldier with a rifle followed
us. So we turned off into a side street and walked out into the
country. Sur