On this side of the sea we sit down with a big book in our hands. It is an old book. Nearly two thousand years have passed since the last word of it was written, and no one can tell how many thousands of years ago the records were made or the words uttered, out of which its first writer prepared his wonderful statements.

This old book is a singular book as to the variety of its contents,—ranging from dry chronological statement to highest flight of royal poetry. Many pages of it are simply historical, with lists of kings, and names of family lines through many generations. Geographical allusions descending to minutest detail are strewn thickly through its pages. There is no department of natural science which does not find some of its data recognized in the chapters of this venerable volume. Stones and stars, plants and reptiles, colossal monsters of sea and land, fleet horse, bird of swift flight, lofty cedar and lowly lily,—these all find their existence recognized and recorded in that book of "various theme."

As it is a long time since these records were made, so are the lands far away in which the events recorded are said to have occurred. We measure the years by millenaries, and by the thousand miles we measure the distance. The greatest contrast exists between the age and land in which we live and the age and lands in which this book found its beginning, its material and its ending.

To one familiar only with the habits, dress and customs of American life, the every-day events recorded in the book seem fabulous. We do not dress as the book says that people dressed in those far-away years and far-away lands; we do not eat as they did; our houses are not like theirs; we do not measure time as they did; we do not speak their language; our seasons do not answer to the seasons that marked their year. It is difficult, knowing only our modern American life, to think ourselves into the conditions under which this book says that people lived and thought in those long-ago ages. Their wedding feasts and funeral services differed utterly from ours. They lived and died in another atmosphere, under a government that no longer exists; made war upon nations that are powerless to-day as the sleeping dead in a national cemetery; and the things which we read concerning them seem strange enough to us.

In the changes which have taken place through all these centuries, it would be an easy thing, under some circumstances, for men to deny that the people of the book ever lived, that the cities of the book were ever built, that the events of the book ever transpired. And, if its historic foundation were destroyed, the superstructure of truth, the doctrinal and ethical teachings resting upon it, might in like manner be swept away.

This old Book—the Bible, a divine product, wrought into the texture of human history and literature with the gradually unfolding ages—is the old Book we study to-day on this side the sea.

It is a "Book of books,"—the Book out-shining all other books in the literary firmament, as the sun out-splendors the planets that move in their orbits around him.

It is a book that deals with man as an immortal soul; making known the beginnings of the race; going back of the beginning to God, who is from "everlasting to everlasting," and who "in the beginning created the heaven and the earth"; revealing the creative purpose and loving grace of God; tracing the fall and deterioration of man, the divine interposition in human history, the preparation of a family, a race, a nation, and a world at large, for the coming of the Redeemer; revealing the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ; showing how the Christ came, what he did, what he said, what he resisted, what he endured, what he suffered, what he achieved; telling in simple way the story of the early church, from the little meeting of the bereaved disciples in the upper room to the magnificent consummation of Christ's coming, as seen in the prophetic visions of St. John on the Isle of Patmos.

It is a book full of history, of geography, of archÆology, of prophecy, of poetry, of doctrine, of "exceeding great and precious promises."

In an important sense the foundations of this book are laid in human history and geography. However high toward the heavens it may reach in doctrine and promise, its foundations lay hold of the earth. If the children of Israel did not live in Egypt and Canaan and the far East, if the statements of their history as recorded in the book be not facts, if the story of Jesus Christ be false,—everything fails us. With the sweeping away of fact, we must also bid farewell to the words of doctrine and of promise here recorded; to the divine words of assurance which now give comfort to the penitent, hope to the despairing, strength to the feeble, and immortal life to the dying.

As we sit down on this side of the sea, it is well that we are able to look beyond the sea to the lands which gave to the world the book in our hands. And it is well, that, as we look, we are able to connect the book of to-day with those same lands as they now lie among the rivers and by the seaside, from the sources of the Tigris and Euphrates to the mouths of the Nile, from the palaces of Babylon to the dock at Puteoli and the prison at Rome. And it is well that the lands as they are found to-day correspond to the records of the Book as they were made centuries and centuries ago. The Book, on its human historic, geographical and archÆological side, is true to the facts as in the nineteenth century they are presented to us in the lands of the East.

There are those who believe with firm faith, that, for these days of skepticism and of merciless and conscienceless historic criticism, the lands have been kept almost in their original condition, that the testimony of the modern skeptical traveler might (though unintentionally on his part, but necessarily) corroborate the teachings of the Bible. Have the mummy wrappings of Mohammedan domination held the far East unchanged through the centuries, that in these days of doubt the hills of Canaan, the plains of Egypt and the ruins of Mesopotamia might lift their voice in solemn attestation to the divine truthfulness of the sacred historians?

These lands are memorial lands. They are now what the Book says they once were. Although the sweeping away of ancient governments and the reign of anarchy have modified the face of the country, the evidences still remain that the most glowing descriptions of their prosperity were not exaggerated. Infidels have doubted, for example, whether Palestine could contain the immense populations which, in its prosperous days, according to the statements of the Book, were resident there. But scientists show that the soil of Canaan, under cultivation, is one of the richest and most fertile in the world. The broken terraces that may still be traced on the hill-sides, the walls of cities and other ruins that fill the land, sustain the account of the prosperous days and the immense populations of Bible times.

So little have the conditions of social life been modified, that one may live the old life over again in Canaan. Soil and scenery, the seasons of the year, Jacob's well and the Jordan, Ebal and Gerizim, the plain, the wilderness and the city, all give witness to the words of the Book.

The names of olden time still linger. One lands at Yafa, the "Joppa" of old; Jerusalem is now el Khuds,—"the Holy"; Bahr-lut—"the Sea of Lot"—is the Dead Sea in the Valley of Sodom and Gomorrah; Bir es Seba is the Beersheba of the olden time; el Azariyeh is Bethany, the home of Lazarus; Beit-lahm is still Bethlehem; and el Khalil—"the Friend"—is the name of Hebron, the home of Abram, "the Friend of God."

In the customs and costumes, in the habits of speech and the manners of the people, you read the same lesson. In the spring of 1863 I was permitted to spend forty days and forty nights in Palestine. I saw Abraham at his tent-door; Rebekah vailing herself at the approach of the stranger; the long caravan of camels and Midianites on their way toward the South. I saw the wailing mourners at the house of death; the roof that might easily have been broken up; the wedding procession; the grass on the house-tops; the sparrow making a nest for her young in the synagogues of Jerusalem. I saw the elders in the gates; David the shepherd, with his sheep, on the hill-side; the Jewish mother teaching Timothy the words of the old Book in the old city on the hill. Verily, it is the old land; it is the old life; it is the memorial presentation in concrete form of what the Book says was true there thousands of years ago.

As I stood on Safed, overlooking the Sea of Galilee and the lovely land about it, I turned and looked toward the north, and saw snow-sheathed Hermon, probably the Mount of Transfiguration, as it stood out that day against the blue sky of Syria. I thought of Ruskin's words: "These pure white hills, near to the heavens and sources of all good to the earth, are the memorials of the light of his mercy that fell snow-like on the Mount of Transfiguration."

I once saw the Alps glorified by the setting sun. I was standing on La FlÉgÉre, looking down upon the Valley of Chamounix, and upward upon the magnificent heights, above which towered the great Mont Blanc. A pall of mist had hidden the rough and unilluminated rocks; but, when that mist grew thin as a vail of delicate lace, I saw the Alps beyond, and they appeared as if on fire. I cried out in ecstacy, "Behold Mount Zion." Through the mists of earth I saw the splendors of heaven. The story of the transfiguration on Mount Hermon, in the days of Jesus, if taken literally, is not so marvelous as the history we call the life and character of Jesus. Both belong to the realm of the supernatural. The "life" granted, the transfiguration has no surprise in it. So I discover the strange blending of the natural and supernatural in the Land and the Book,—in the Land as to-day hallowed by the Book,—in the Book as to-day supported and made real by the Land.

It thus easily appears that every Bible reader should be acquainted with the outlines of Biblical and geographical antiquities. Without such knowledge it is impossible properly to understand the divine word. How often, through ignorance of sacred archÆology, we overlook the force and beauty of the allusions which abound in the narrative, poetic and prophetic parts of Scripture. And there is, moreover, an air of reality imparted to all history by familiarity with the geography involved in it.

In view of the supernatural character of Bible history, acquaintance with Bible geography is particularly important. Once give its wonderful transactions an actual locality among the hills, valleys and cities which may still be found and visited, connecting and comparing them with the records of our present history, and our youth will readily distinguish the miraculous from the mythical, and discover not only clear illustrations of many portions of the Bible, but strong and irresistible evidence in favor of its divinity.

I therefore hail with joy the admirable presentation of the facts of Bible history and geography in this volume—a presentation so clear, and so abundantly illustrative, that the humblest teacher and most indifferent student may be interested and instructed.

The study of Bible history and geography must not be limited to the theological school, the pastor's study, or the advanced Bible class. It is a department peculiarly adapted to our youngest children, and by them most needed, that they may secure the vivid realization of actuality in the Bible narratives. Boys and girls to-day may not take much delight in the advanced doctrinal teachings of the Bible; but it is possible so to connect its history with stories of modern travel, through the regions referred to in that history, that they will become interested in the one because of the pleasure they find in the other.

Our Sunday School libraries should contain the many books of travel through the far East which are published in these days. And our ministers should enlist young people, through special classes, in the study of Bible history and geography. In this way a "week-day hold" upon our young people may be secured.

During ten years of my pastoral life, wherever the itinerant system of my church placed me, I held on every Saturday afternoon, in the lecture-room of my church, a class to which old and young, and the representatives of all denominations, were admitted. It was called "The Palestine Class," and was devoted to the study of Bible history and geography. An outline of facts, prepared in catechetical form, was printed, and committed to memory by every pupil. Difficult old Hebrew names of lands, cities and mountains, were arranged in a rhythmic way, and chanted after the manner of the old-time "singing geography" classes. Answers were given in concert to help the memory, and personal examinations were afterward conducted to test it. The class constituted an "ideal company of tourists to the far East." The course of lessons was divided into five sections, covering the whole of Bible history. As each member, passing a personal examination, gave proof that he had thoroughly mastered "Section One," he was constituted a Pilgrim to the Holy Land, and given a certificate to that effect. Having studied "Section Two," and passed a satisfactory examination, he was made a Resident in Palestine, and his name was associated with one town or mountain. In that way every principal place on the map was associated with the name of some member, who was held responsible to the class for information concerning its history and present condition. An examination in "Section Three" made our "pilgrim" and "resident" a Dweller in Jerusalem. Having been examined in "Section Four," he was made an Explorer of other Bible lands, and was located on some mountain, or city of Egypt, Arabia, Chaldea, Asia Minor, etc. A final examination made him a Templar.

The songs, concert exercises, responses and ideal pilgrimage gave enthusiasm to the class, while the personal examinations guaranteed thoroughness. As I recall those Saturday afternoons of my early ministry, surrounded by earnest women and wide-awake boys and girls of all ages, I am amply rewarded for all the labor and time expended. The enthusiasm and delight, the perceptible growth in knowledge, the spirit of catholicity, the steadiness promoted in the frivolous, the gratification afforded on the occasion of public examinations and reviews, the increased appreciation of the Sunday preaching, visible on the faces of young and old, the grateful words that have come through the intervening years from those who were by these studies incited to a more intelligent and earnest Bible study—these are some of the results of those years of pastoral service. The plan is practicable for every pastor. The book which I now have the honor of introducing to the public furnishes to every minister a complete preparation for directing such classes—a preparation which, twenty-five years ago, would have been a great benediction to me.

One of these Palestine classes reported its imaginary tour through the village paper. These articles gave local interest to the movement, delighting the imaginary tourists, and (through no fault of ours) deceiving more than one simple-hearted reader in the community. From these letters I make a few extracts.

After calling attention to two books which had just then appeared—"The Land and The Book," by Dr. Thomson, and "Palestine Past and Present," by Dr. Osborn—the Palestine correspondent continued:

The next letter gives an account of the various pilgrimages which have been made to Palestine from the days of Abraham down to the present.

The third letter opened with a quotation from Browning:

After a description of Gibraltar, the writer says:

The letters which follow are from "Alexandria, Egypt, May 28"; from the "Steamer Rameses, River Nile, June 11"; from "Off Joppa, June 16"; from "Jerusalem, July 5"; from "Nablous, 'the City of Samaria,' July 12"; from "Beyrout, Syria, July 23"; and on Monday morning, July 25, our correspondent writes his farewell, as follows:

Such devices as these help to inspire the young with an interest in sacred things. They may not yet be prepared to appreciate the night of prayer on the mountain, the agony of the Lord in Gethsemane, or the rapturous experiences of St. John on Patmos; but they may take delight in the land, its customs, its wonderful histories, read with gratification an account of journeys from Dan to Beersheba, with perils from robbers, and the pranks of native children, the lonely horseback ride from Jerusalem down to Jericho, the encampment by the "Fountain of robbers" north of Jerusalem, the loveliness of Nazareth, the beauty of the Sea of Galilee, and the glories of Lebanon and Hermon. Finding delight in these more human things, they may, incidentally, under the leadership of the divine Providence and Spirit, catch glimpses of his face who, by simile and word and spirit, sanctified the land from north to south and from Bashan to the sea.