The second night after leaving Damascus the “Equestrian Pilgrims” camped at the foot of Mount Hermon, whose regal brow was crowned with purest snow. It was a glorious sight to see that lonely, lordly mountain, bathed in the golden splendor of the setting sun. One almost ceases to wonder that it has become an object of vigorous adoration. The word Hermon itself means “the holy,” “the unapproachable.” The Arab word for Hermon means “the old,” “the grey-bearded,” “the venerable.” The inspired writers of old often refer to Hermon. It appears to have formed the northern boundaries of the children of Israel. Solomon speaks of Hermon as the haunt of wild beasts, and strangely enough my guide-book says, and the natives here confirm the statement, that bears, wolves and foxes still abound here. The Psalmist says brotherly love is as pleasant as the “dew of Hermon;” as the “dew that falleth on Mount Zion.” I have been much impressed with heavy dews since coming into this Eastern country. I have seen the dew falling before the sun goes down in the evening, and for an hour after the sun rises in the morning. In this country it rains six months, and is dry six months. During the dry season vegetation withers and all nature suffers for moisture. Every night the falling dew is like a gentle shower of rain, refreshing the parched grass and “reviving the vigor of vegetation.” But for these heavy dews nothing would grow, and the people could scarcely exist. How impressive it must have been to these people, therefore, when David said: “Brotherly love is as pleasant as the dew of Hermon, as the dew that falleth on Mount Zion.” God hasten the day when “brotherly love shall abound:” when men shall say: “Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.”