bazaars and the principal mosque, where we ascended the minaret to take a view of the city and the sea, we returned to our tents weary, but with the feeling that at last we had reached a place of rest. We found how good it was to come back to the society of one's fellow beings, to what Charles Lamb calls "the sweet security of city streets."
And now, as the result of all my wanderings on the desert, I have attained to this piece of philosophy, which I leave for the benefit of posterity, that civilization is good enough for me! If any young man, full of the fire of ambition, and with the hot blood of youth in his veins, desires to set out to-morrow for the North Pole or the heart of the Sahara, let him depart in peace: only for myself I will say with Wisdom, Henceforth "I dwell in the habitable parts of the earth, and my delights are with the sons of men."
Meanwhile no answer came to my telegram to Florence. Dr. Post had heard from Beirut that all was well, but the afternoon wore away and I had no response. I began to feel anxious and troubled. At last, weary and exhausted, I retired to my camp-bed and fell asleep, when at eleven o'clock the tent door was softly opened, and some one stole in. I recognized the dragoman's voice, who spoke: "Dr. Field, here is a telegram for you." He struck a light, while I read, as well as I could amid the blinding tears, the sweetest words in the language, "All well." That was enough. "Thank you, Yohanna: Good night: Leave me now, and shut the door of the tent." For who would not be left to his own thoughts when his heart is swelling and running over with thanksgivings to the Great Preserver and Protector? My cup was full, and amid the manifold occasions for gratitude, last but not least, this was sure to return: Blessed be civilization!
