thians, Saracens and Crusaders, fought for its possession. But its chief historic significance is in connection with early Christianity. Here was the residence of King Abgarus, who wrote a letter to Christ, and requested therein that the artist who bore the letter might be permitted to paint a portrait of Our Lord. According to the pious tradition, the Saviour declined to sit for his picture, but condescended to make a miraculous impression of his countenance upon a napkin, which he sent to the King of Edessa. For centuries this image was esteemed the palladium of the city, and was finally worshiped by a deluded people.

Although Orfah early became a Christian city, yet it is notorious for its religious errors and factions. During the time of Julian the Apostate it became a stronghold of the Arians, whose disorders led to the confiscation of their church property; and one hundred years later the heresy of the Nestorians was accepted as Divine truth, notwithstanding it had been driven from Ephesus and Chalcedon. At present the Christian community is di vided into Syrian Jacobites and Armenians. The former are few in number and weak in influence; but the latter are strong in numbers, in wealth, and social position. Their community is estimated at fourteen thousand, and annually increasing. On our return from the castle, we . visited their large and imposing church. It stands in a spacious court, and connected therewith is the episcopal residence and the parish school. The church is one hundred and fifty feet long and seventy-five feet wide. The interior is divided into three aisles by a double row of Saracenic columns, which support graceful arches. One of the aisles is partitioned off by a trellis-work, to screen the female portion of the congregation. From the ceil ing depend large lamps, and the floor is covered with

Persian carpets. The high altar is exceedingly imposing. Fifty feet high and thirty feet broad, it is a Gothic arch, richly gilded. In the centre is a representation of the Holy Family, and on either side are images of the apostles, while above them all is Christ sitting in judg ment. On the right of the altar is an image of Mary and her Son, encased in silver, and said to have been painted by Thaddeus, one of the Seventy. A lamp ever burns before that image, and a contribution-plate is ever there to receive the gifts of the people. Although vespers were ended, yet many worshipers were present. It is customary for the working people, before they return home, to stop at the church and offer their prayers. Some stood like statues, others touched their foreheads to the ground and breathed forth their devotions. Around the church are the graves of the sainted dead, and over some of the tombs are tasteful monuments.

The Armenians have communities in nearly all the principal towns, from Bagdad to the Black Sea, and from Kurdistan to the Mediterranean. They trace their ori gin back to apostolic times. In the fourth century of our era they accepted as truth the Nicene and Athanasian creeds, and continued in this belief for two hundred years. But in the sixth century they were induced to change their religious views by Jacob Baradæus, who taught that the human nature of Christ had been absorbed by his Divine nature; and that the procession of the Holy Ghost was from the Father alone. In these false doctrines they still abide, and are to-day a formal and powerless church. They invoke the saints and worship images; they practice a triune immersion in the administration of baptism; and they believe in transubstantiation in the holy eucharist. They have patriarchs, bishops, and priests; they have monasteries and convents

and parochial schools. At present their community is divided into Monophysites and Roman Catholics; but the Papists have had less success in perverting Armenians than in converting Nestorians. The American missionaries are now exerting a wholesome influence over the Armenian youths by extending to them the privileges of education.

The storm of the previous night had been succeeded by a charming morning, and at 8 A.M. we were again in motion. On the outskirts of the town were extensive Mohammedan cemeteries, and beyond them were large graperies and fig orchards. Our path lay up an as cent two thousand feet high, from the summit of which we obtained a glorious view of the plains below and of the snow-capped mountains that rose above us on the north. Fragments of an old Roman road appeared here and there as we advanced, and now and then we saw the remains of ancient reservoirs. After leaving the summit of the ridge, and for eighteen miles beyond, we traveled through a rough and hilly region. About 5 P.M. we halted for the night at Charmelik, and encamped at the base of a mound, near which is a Roman reservoir, one hundred feet long, six feet wide, and fifty feet deep. The huts of the villagers are of mud, with roofs of sun-dried bricks, which resemble bee-hives. In the dusk of the evening I strolled through the town, and examined these ingeniously constructed dwellings. The entrance is a descent into an under-ground apartment, above which is the conical roof. Upon the earthen floor was spread the coarse rug whereon the occupants sleep, and on the walls were suspended the sword and gun for protection against the midnight thief. There was a hum of busy life in the little village. Youthful shepherds were returning with their flocks; the men were feeding their

camels and donkeys; and the women were carrying wood and water for the night. One poor girl, who had lost the use of her lower limbs, moved over the ground by aid of her hands, and seemed to be pitied and caressed by her companions.

The night was severely cold. The thermometer indicated a change from seventy-eight to forty degrees in less than twelve hours. We were near the Taurus range, which was covered with snow; and as the wind blew from the direction of the snowy mountains, it was intensely cold. But the sun came forth clear and bright, and his earliest rays were welcomed by the icy peaks, which blushed in the rosy light. Nearly all the morn ing we followed the line of the telegraph, which imparted to the soul a sense of home. Having lunched near a small stream, we resumed our tour, and rode over chalkhills so white as to be exceedingly painful to the eyes. Here in this dry region the Romans had constructed immense reservoirs for the accommodation of their armies and for the comfort of caravans; and so admirably were they made, they have suffered but little from the lapse of the ages, and the constant neglect by the subsequent occupants of the country. At 1 P.M. we passed the wa ter-shed, and an hour thereafter we saw the Euphrates. The large town of Birijik was now full in view, and the prospect thereof was the most picturesque we had seen in Mesopotamia. The toil of the journey was relieved by the pleasant approach to the city through extensive graperies, and fig and apricot orchards. On either side of the road, the clear water flowed rapidly in its descent to the Euphrates. In the rocks are large caves where travelers repose during the night, and in the quarries natives were at work dressing the soft stone for building purposes. Passing through the crowded bazaar, we

reached the ferry with difficulty. Large quantities of grain in sacks were there to be ferried over the river, and an immense throng of people were waiting to cross. We applied to the authorities for permission to cross, but, after a tedious delay of an hour, we were informed that we must wait till morning. This was a disappointment, as we preferred tenting on the green banks beyond to remaining in a Turkish town. We dispatched our

servant to the pasha, but that placid dignitary consoled us by affirming that there would be less water in the river in the morning, and that it would then be much safer crossing. This polite reply was to cover his purpose to detain us till the morrow. Reluctantly we returned through the narrow, crowded streets, and stopped for the night in a large khan, where all manner of animals had their abode.

In the light of the setting sun, and in the light of