SMYRNA is the most important city in Asia Minor, and one of the principal commercial points of the Ottoman Empire. I am told that the annual exports and imports amount to more than $15,000,000. The population of the city is estimated at 200,000, representing seven different nationalities and speaking, therefore, seven separate and distinct languages. From appearances, one would judge that the city was built soon after the flood, and that it had seldom been repaired. The houses are old and dilapidated, the streets are narrow, crooked and filthy. The people generally are ignorant, superstitious and fanatical, and wear various strange and grotesque costumes.

I have often heard that Smyrna was noted for her pretty women, but I protest. I have seen nothing in this city that even approximates female beauty; and, if I see a pretty woman at all, her face is so completely covered and wrapped up in muslins and shawls that I can hardly tell whether she is a Greek or an Ethiopian.

One of the seven Asiatic churches was located in this place. An old, old rock church still stands, and is pointed out as the one in which the Apostles used to preach. Near by the church is the tomb of Polycarp, who was a pupil of the Apostle John, and who was martyred A. D. 160, because he preached “the Gospel of Christ.” I have often read the touching account of Polycarp’s martyrdom. When asked to recant, he replied: “For eighty and six years have I served my God, and He has never forsaken me; and I can not now forsake Him.” The green boughs of a lone olive tree wave above his tomb, and I say to my friend: “Verily that tree is emblematic; its leaves are green, so is the memory of Polycarp still fresh in the mind of the Christian world. Above his tomb waves the olive branch of peace; and his sainted spirit, I believe, has gone on and up, and has long been in the full enjoyment of ‘that peace which the world knows not of.’”

From Smyrna I go out into the interior of the country, which generally is neglected and barren. I believe, however, that if the Turkish government was struck by lightning, and some other power could come in, that would encourage and protect honest labor, these fertile valleys would again yield abundant harvests, and that peace and plenty would reign where discord and pinching poverty now hold sway. In my opinion, the Turkish government is a reproach to the civilization of the nineteenth century; and I think the Lord lets it stand simply to show the powers of earth how deep down into degradation and despair, into vice and vagrancy, a nation can sink, when it wanders away from and forgets God. “Sin is a reproach to any people.”

On the way to Ephesus we meet several caravans, or trains of camels. These “ships of the desert” are all heavily laden, some with fruit, dried figs, dates, pomegranates, others with hand-made silks, Turkish rugs, Russian carpets, and other fancy goods. These caravans go back and forth between Smyrna and the far interior of the country. Camels are very obedient, and it is really amusing to see the humble creatures kneel down to receive their burdens.

Ephesus is chiefly interesting because of its historical associations. Next to Athens, it was once the most magnificent city in the world. Ephesus is as old as the hills. It is the birthplace of mythology. Apollo and Diana were born here. Bacchus and Hercules once struggled with the Amazon in the streets of Ephesus. These hills were once covered with twenty-five marble temples dedicated to heathen gods, that of Diana being one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Ephesus is one of the nine cities which claim to have given birth to Homer.

Some of the greatest names in history are connected with Ephesus. Alexander the Great visited here; so did Hannibal and Antiochus Scipio, Scylla, Brutus, Cassius, Pompey, Cicero, and Augustus. Antony was once judge of the court of Ephesus. It was from here that Antony and Cleopatra sailed for Samos in gilded galleys with perfumed silken sails and silver oars, drawn by beautiful girls whose gleaming paddles kept time to soft strains of music.

Some time ago, a very strange and serious difficulty occurred in this city of Ephesus. The trouble arose in this fashion: A stranger came into the city. The new-comer was possessed of a strong character and a superior education. He was by birth a Jew, by nature a gentleman, by education a scholar, by faith a Christian, and by profession a Baptist preacher. According to his custom, this strange Baptist preacher entered into the synagogue and reasoned with the Jews. From what I can find out, this man made a favorable impression in Ephesus, for the Jews “desired him to tarry longer with them,” but “he consented not.” He promised, however, to “return to them, if it be God’s will.” The Lord kindly permitted this man to return to Ephesus; and when he got there he found “certain disciples.” He asked them if they had received the Holy Ghost. They replied: “We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Spirit.” Strange to say, I have heard professing Christians in America say the self-same thing. These Ephesians, be it said to their credit, acted wisely and were re-baptised. The preacher then went into the church and spoke boldly for the space of three months. Now there arose a disturbance in the church, or synagogue, as it was called, so that it became necessary for the preacher to change the place of meeting to the school-house, or college chapel. Here, in this school-room, he held one of the most wonderful protracted meetings I have ever heard of; it lasted two years and three months, “so mightily grew the word of God and prevailed.” The town was stirred to its very depths. Among the converts were many infidels, diviners, soothsayers, fortune-tellers, etc. These people who “used curious arts brought their books together and burned them before all their fellow-townsmen; and they counted the price of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver,” equal in American money to $15,000. This was the grandest day in the long history of Ephesus.

At this juncture, the silversmiths, who made shrines for the Temple of Diana, and the other heathen temples of Ephesus, came together and decided that something had to be done to break up the protracted meeting. They said that if Christ continued to be preached, and Christianity to spread, men would cease to bow down to shrines, to stocks and stones, and then their craft would be gone and the temple of “Diana despised.” Then the excitement became intense, “The whole city was filled with confusion.” Some, therefore, cried one thing, and some another. For two hours all with one voice shouted: “Great is Diana of the Ephesians.”

For the benefit of those who have so much business to attend to, or who have so many newspapers to read, that they habitually neglect the the Bible, I will add in conclusion that the Baptist preacher who conducted this revival was Paul, the Apostle (Acts xviii and xix). According to tradition, the same Apostle was imprisoned here, and the cell in which he is said to have been confined is still pointed out.

The church at Ephesus is the first one mentioned in Revelation (ii: 1-8). John is believed to have retired to Ephesus after his release from banishment to Patmos, and thither the Virgin Mary came to reside with the beloved disciple. Here, says tradition, both of them died and were buried. Their tombs are still shown to the traveler; so, also, is the tomb of Timothy. Near by these graves is the celebrated Cave of the Seven Sleepers.

This once fair and populous city is now nothing more than a lonely, desolate, bleak, and barren heap of ruins. By the remaining aqueducts, foundation stones, archways, broken pillars, and marble columns, the tourist can recognize the location of some of the temples, theatres and public buildings. These have recently been excavated by Captain Wood, of England.

Returning to Smyrna, I immediately come aboard the good ship “Mars.” She at once lifts her anchors, and spreads her sails to the breezes; and soon Smyrna, like Ephesus, Constantinople, and Athens, is among the places that “I have left behind.” The first landing is Chios (Acts xx: 15;) then passing by Samos we come next morning, about eight o’clock, to the island of Patmos, known throughout Christendom as the exiled home of the Beloved Disciple. The island is a solid and irregular mass of rock, bleak and barren. It is ten miles long, and five miles in breadth. The cave, or grotto, in which John is said to have written the Apocalypse is used as a chapel. In this chapel, numerous lights are kept burning, and on its walls are rudely depicted various scenes taken from the Apocalypse. Patmos is now inhabited by 4,000 Greeks, who have two sources of income. One is fishing, while their second main occupation is stealing.

On the island of Rhodes (Rev. xxi; 1), we visit the place where once stood the celebrated “Colossus of Rhodes,” known as one of the wonders of the ancient world. The Colossus was a bronze statue 105 feet high. It stood across the narrow harbor, so that ships entering the port would pass between its legs. The statue is said to have cost a half million dollars.

We are now anchored at Larnaca, the principal town on the island of Cyprus. Cyprus was the home of Barnabas, and the scene of some of Paul’s missionary work. We have anticipated much pleasure in traveling over this historic island. But alas, alas! thoughts of pleasure have fled, and dread suspicions are now entertained. Some fearfully contagious disease has broken out on our vessel. The doctor says it is small-pox, but some of us fear it is cholera. Small-pox is prevalent in Constantinople, and people have been dying from it in Smyrna, whence we came, at the rate of one hundred and fifty per day. Malta, which is only some few hours away, is suffering most fearfully from cholera. We have been here now twenty-four hours. We are quarantined, and are not allowed to land or even to discharge the sick. The passengers are panic-stricken. The most intense excitement prevails. The flags of disease and death are floating at our mast-head. It does not make one feel at all pleasant to see these flags, especially when one remembers that he is many thousand miles from home and loved ones. I should not like to be buried in the sea, nor yet in a foreign land among strangers. When I have finished life’s work, and the watchers shall fold my pale hands upon my breast and softly whisper, “He is dead,” I want to be carried back to my own native land, and there buried in some quiet church-yard, where those whom I have known and loved in life can occasionally come and plant evergreens and forget-me-nots over my grave. The only consolation I have at present is that God, who doeth all things well, knoweth best. I therefore cheerfully commit my body, soul and spirit, to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, now and forever.