large gates. Because of their great size, such gates are opened only on special occasions to admit chariots and caravans. Therefore, in order to give pedestrians thoroughfare, a smaller opening about the size of an ordinary door is made in the centre of the great gate, near to the ground. Now this smaller door through which a camel cannot pass is the eye of the needle mentioned in the Gospel.

I once heard a Sunday-school superintendent explain this passage to his scholars by saying that a camel could pass through this eye of a needlemeaning the door - if he was not loaded. Therefore, and by analogy, if we cast off our load of sin outside, we can easily enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Were the camel and the gate left out, this statement would be an excellent fatherly admonition. There is perhaps no gate in the celestial city large enough to admit a man with a load of sin strapped to his soul. However, the chief trouble with these explanations of the 'eye-of-the-needle' passage is that they are wholly untrue.

This saying is current in the East, and in all probability it was a common saying there long before the advent of Christ. But I never knew that small door in a city or a castle gate to be called the needle's eye; nor indeed the large gate to be called the needle. The name of that door, in the common speech of the country, is the 'plum,' and I am certain the scriptural passage makes no reference to it whatever.

The Koran makes use of this expression in one of its purest classical Arabic passages. The term employed here sum-el-khiat—can mean only the sewing instrument, and nothing else.

Nothing can show more clearly the genuine Oriental character of this New Testament passage and that of the Teacher who uttered it, than the intense positiveness of its thought and VOL. 117- NO.4

the unrestrained flight of its imagery. I can just hear the Master say it. Jesus' purpose was to state that it was extremely difficult for them that trust in riches to enter into the Kingdom of God.' (Mark x: 24.) To this end he chose the biggest animal and the smallest opening known to his people and compared the impossibility of a camel passing through the eye of a needle with that of a man weighted down with earthly things becoming one with God.

IV

Perhaps the one phase of his speech which lays the Oriental open to the charge of unveracity is his much swearing. Of course this evil habit knows no geographical boundaries and no racial limits. However, probably because of their tendency to be profuse, intense, and positive in speech, the Orientals no doubt have more than their legitimate share of swearing. But it should be kept in mind that in that part of the world swearing is not looked upon with the same disapproval and contempt as in America; swearing by the name of the Deity has always been considered the most sacred and solemn affirmation of a statement. It is simply calling God to witness that what has been said is the sacred truth. Thus in the twentyfirst chapter of the book of Genesis Abimelech asks Abraham, 'Now, therefore, swear unto me here by God that thou wilt not deal falsely with me, nor with my son, nor with my son's son.' 'And Abraham said, I will swear.'

In Syria this custom has undergone no change since the days of Abraham. Swearing is an integral element in Oriental speech. Instinctively the speaker turns his eyes and lifts his hands toward heaven and says, 'By Allah, what I have said is right and true. Yeshhedo-Allah [God witnesseth] to the truth of my words.' In a similar man

ner, and as in a score of places in the Old Testament, the maker of a statement is asked by his hearer to swear by God as a solemn assurance that his statement is true and sincere. Of such importance is this mode of speech to Orientals that the Israelites thought of Jehovah Himself as making such affirmations. In the twenty-second chapter of Genesis we have the words, 'By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord.' Further light is thrown on this point by the explanation given to the verse just quoted in the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, where it is said, 'For when God made promise to Abraham, because He could swear by no greater, he swore by Himself.'

I have no doubt that this thought of God swearing by Himself sprang from the custom of Oriental aristocrats of sealing a vow, or solemnly affirming a statement, or an intention to do some daring deed, by saying, 'I swear by my head'.

an oath which, whenever I heard it in my youth, filled me with awe. Thus, also, in the sixty-second chapter of Isaiah we have the words, "The Lord hath sworn by his right hand, and by the arm of his strength.'

Among the Mohammedans, swearing 'by the most high God' and 'by the life of the Prophet' and 'by the exalted Koran' in affirmation of almost every statement, is universal. The Christians swear by God, Christ, the Virgin, the Cross, the Saints, the repose of their dead, the Holy City, the Eucharist, Heaven, great holidays, and many other names. A father swears by the life of a dear child, and sons of distinguished fathers swear by them. By the life of my father, I am telling the truth,' is a very common expression. The antiquity of this custom is made evident by the passage in the thirtyfirst chapter of Genesis and the fiftythird verse: 'And Jacob swore by the fear of his father Israel.' However, the

word 'fear' does violence to the real meaning of the verse, which the Arabic version rescues by saying, 'And Jacob swore by the heybit [benignity, or beautiful dignity] of his father.' He swore by that which he and others loved, and not feared, in his father.

But what must seem to Americans utterly ridiculous is the Oriental habit of swearing by the moustache and the beard, which is, however, one phase of swearing by the head. To swear by one's moustache, or beard, means to pledge the integrity of one's manhood. 'I swear by this,' is said solemnly by a man with his hand upon his moustache. Swearing by the beard is supposed to carry more weight because, as a rule, it is worn by the older men. To speak disrespectfully of one's moustache or beard, or to curse the beard of a person's father, is to invite serious trouble.

I remember distinctly how proud I was in my youth to put my hand upon my moustache, when it was yet not even large enough to be respectfully noticed, and swear by it as a man. I recall also to what roars of laughter I would provoke my elders at such times, to my great dismay.

Here it may easily be seen that swearing in the Orient had so lost its original sacredness and become so vulgar, even as far back as the time of Christ, that He deemed it necessary to give the unqualified command, 'Swear not at all: neither by heaven, for it is God's throne, nor by the earth, for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let your communication be yea, yea; nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil.' This was perhaps the most difficult command to obey that Jesus ever gave to his countrymen.

Of the other characteristics of Oriental speech, I wish to speak briefly of three before I bring this article to a close.

The first is the juvenile habit of imploring 'in season and out of season' when asking a favor. To try to exert 'undue' influence, virtually to beg in most persuasive tones, is an Oriental habit which to an American must seem unendurable. One of the most striking examples of this characteristic is the parable of the unrighteous judge, in the eighteenth chapter of Luke. "There was in a city a judge, which feared not God, neither regarded man: and there was a widow in that city, and she came unto him saying, Avenge me [the original is 'do me justice'] of mine adversary. And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man, yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me.'

Here is a case - by no means a rare exception in that country where a judge rendered a verdict against his own best judgment in sheer self-defense. And I must say that, knowing such Oriental tendencies as I do, especially as manifested by widows, I am in deep sympathy with the judge.

Yet it was this very persistence in petitioning the Father of all men which gave mankind the lofty psalms and tender prayers of our scriptures. It was this persistent filial pleading and imploring which made Israel turn again and again to the 'God of righteousness' and say, 'We have sinned,' and ask for a deeper revealing of his ways to them. Job's cry, 'Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him,' may not be the proper language of modern etiquette, but it certainly is the language of religion. In the very parable just quoted, Jesus recommends to his disciples the insistence of the widow as a means to

draw the benediction of heaven upon them, and to secure for them justification at the hands of the righteous judge. Honest seekers after spiritual gifts should not be averse to imitating this Oriental trait. They should never be afraid to come to their Father again and again for his gracious blessing, or refrain from 'storming the gates of heaven with prayer.'

The second characteristic of Oriental speech is its intimacy and unreserve. Mere implications which are so common to reserved and guarded speech leave a void in the Oriental heart. It is because of this that the Orientals have always craved 'signs and wonders,' and interpreted natural phenomena in terms of direct miraculous communications from God to convince them that He cared for them. Although Gideon was speaking with Jehovah Himself, who promised to help him to save his kinsmen from the Midianites, he asked for a more tangible, more definite sign. We are told in the sixth chapter of Judges, thirty-sixth verse: 'Gideon said unto God, If thou wilt save Israel by my hand, as thou hast spoken, behold I will put a fleece of wool on the threshing-floor; if there be dew on the fleece only, and it be dry upon the ground, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by my hand, as thou hast spoken. And it was so.' But Gideon, still unsatisfied, speaks again in childlike simplicity and intimacy: 'Let not thine anger be kindled against me, and I will speak but this once: let me make trial, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece, and upon all the ground let there be dew. And God did so that night.'

It is not at all uncommon for old and tried friends in Syria to give and ask for affectionate assurances, that they do love one another. Such expressions are the wine of life. Especially when new

confidences are exchanged or great favors asked, a man turns with guileless eyes to his trusted friend and says, 'Now you love me; I say you love me, don't you?' 'My soul, my eyes,' answers the other, 'you know what is in my heart toward you; you know and the Creator knows!' Then the request is made.

One of the noblest and tenderest passages in the New Testament, a passage whose spirit has fed the strength of the Christian missionaries throughout the ages, is that portion of the twenty-first chapter of St. John's Gospel where Jesus speaks to Peter in this intimate Syrian fashion. How sweet and natural it sounds to a son of the East! 'So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon son of Jonas, lovest thou me?' How characteristic also is Peter's answer, "Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee.' Then came the precious request, 'Feed my lambs.' Three times did the affectionate Master knock at the door of Peter's heart, till the poor impetuous disciple cried, 'Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.'

The third characteristic of Oriental speech is its unqualified positiveness. Outside the small circles of Europeanized Syrians, such qualifying phrases as 'in my opinion,' 'so it seems to me,' 'as I see it,' and the like, are almost entirely absent from Oriental speech. Such expressions, also, are rarely used in the Bible, and then only in the New Testament, in which Greek influence plays no small part. Thus in the seventh chapter of his second Epistle to the Corinthians, Paul, in giving his opinion on marriage said, 'I suppose, therefore, that this is good for the present distress,' and so forth. I am not aware that this form of speech is used anywhere in the entire Old Testament.

The language of the Oriental is that

of sentiment and conviction, and not of highly differentiated and specialized thought. When you say to him, ‘I think this object is beautiful,' if he does not think it is so, he says, 'No, it is not beautiful.' Although he is.expressing his own individual opinion, he does not take the trouble to make that perfectly clear: if an object is not beautiful to him, it is not beautiful.

From an intellectual and social standpoint, this mode of speech may be considered a serious defect. So do children express themselves. But it should be kept in mind that the Oriental mind is that of the prophet and the seer, and not of the scientist and the philosopher. It is the mind which has proven the most suitable transmissive agency of divine revelation.

When the seer beholds a vision of the things that are eternal, he cannot speak of it as a supposition or a guess, or transmit it with intellectual caution and timidity. "Thus saith the Lord.' "The word of the Lord came unto me saying, Son of man, prophesy.' When we speak of the deepest realities of life, we do not beset our utterances with qualifying phrases. True love, deep sorrow, a real vision of spiritual things transcend all speculative speech; they press with irresistible might for direct and authoritative expression.

This seeming weakness in Oriental speech and in the Bible is in reality tremendous spiritual strength. Through our sacred scriptures we hear the voices of those great Oriental prophets who spoke as they saw and felt; as seers, and not as logicians. And it was indeed most fortunate for the world that the Bible was written in an age of instinctive listening to the divine Voice, and in a country whose juvenile mode of speech protected the 'rugged maxims' of the scriptures from the weakening influences of an over-strained intellectualism.

On the tenth of November, 1907, we struggled in the face of a furious bouran (blizzard) across the open space which separated our house from the office. The air was full of icy particles, which cut your face and made you wonder whether you would succeed in reaching your goal or not. When we reached the office, Rucker did not allow us time to take off our coats, but burst out with the question,

'Have you heard that Sultan Hacen Akaev is dead?'

'No! when did he die?'

'Yesterday, in his winter quarters on the Topor, about forty miles from here.'

'How did you hear?'

'By Kirghiz telegraph.'

The dissemination of news by natives, who possess no mechanical appliances, is a phenomenon noted by all travelers in remote regions. Whether in Africa, where travel is on foot, or in Asia, where it is on horseback, the news of every event is passed from mouth to mouth and from village to village, with a rapidity and certainty which is little short of marvelous. Within twentyfour hours of the sultan's death, it is probable that every living person within a circle of five hundred miles had heard of it.

The death of so rich a man as Sultan Hacen Akaev was an event of considerable importance in Kirghiz life. In addition to the important question of the distribution of his vast flocks and herds, and the readjustment of the social organization of his aool or village, was the

important question of the pominka which would follow his death.

As in Ireland a funeral is made the occasion of elaborate ceremonies and feasting, so, in Kirghiz land, the custom is that a notable man, before he dies, makes all the necessary dispositions for a great festival, to be held six months or a year after his death, to which all his friends and the whole countryside shall be invited. In this way, not only does the dying man provide in a worthy way for the dignity and honor of his family, but he also carries with him, beyond the grave, the tradition and law of Kirghiz hospitality. It is indeed a wonderful law; chiefly wonderful because it is universally obeyed. To the guest within the aool nothing can be denied, no matter what the previous relations between guest and host may have been. The duty of hospitality prevails over all other sentiments. Most laws and customs are sometimes broken, but this law is never violated, not even in death.

As is natural, the greater the wealth of the deceased, the greater the extent of the festivities. The pominka of Sultan Hacen Akaev would be, no doubt, on an unusually large scale.

The week beginning May first was the time set for the festival; and, for months beforehand, little else was talked of among the Kirghiz. We, also, were planning to attend in state, and Rucker was especially interested in the preparations; for his particular work threw him into rather closer relations, than the rest of us, with the Kirghiz.