Sick, nigh unto Death—“Night Bringeth out the Stars”—Mount Hermon and the Transfiguration—Beautiful Camp-Ground—Amnon, the Reliable—“Thou Art Peter”—Fountain of the Jordan—Slaughter of the Buffaloes—Crossing into Galilee—Dan—Abraham’s Visit—A Fertile Valley—Wooden Plows—A Bedouin Village—Costumes of Eden—A Gory Field—Sea of Galilee—Sacred Memories—The Evening Hour—A Soliloquy—Bathing—Sailing—Fishing. I HAD not been feeling well for some days and while at Damascus I was taken ill with varioloid fever. This was just twelve days after I was directly exposed to the small-pox and the cholera. The varioloid, with which I was suffering, was so severe that my friends really feared it would develop into small-pox proper. It was a dark hour for the sufferer. The shadows of twilight—the twilight of life, as well as of day, seemed to be gathering around me. Even then I could say: “I have lived, and have not lived in vain: my mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, and my frame perish even in conquering pain, but there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire.” One night when I was suffering most intensely, when my brow was all scorched with fever and my body racked with pain, Mr. Hamlin, whom I have already mentioned, and whose income is more than a dollar an hour, came into my room and lay down on the side of the bed. With his hand on my brow he said: “Whittle, we are fellow travelers for this journey through the Holy Land; we are friends for the journey of life, and now that you are ill, I want to say that you shall have my sympathy, my presence and my purse. I am your friend and helper. You may have cholera, small-pox, or what not, yet I will stand by you to the last. I shall not leave your bedside until you are well, or as long as you need a friend.” I said to myself: “Truly, night bringeth out the stars,” and “every cloud has a silver lining.” I fell asleep; the fever cooled off, and in a few days “Richard was himself again.” Now that it is over, I am glad that I was ill. It revealed to me the character of the man with whom I am traveling. It is not an unpleasant thing, when one is ten or twelve thousand miles from home, to have a friend talk to him in that way. Hamlin is a whole-souled fellow.