Clergy -- England -- Biography; Stoughton, John, 1807-1897
In crossing the Mediterranean with Dr. Allon and Kemp-Welch we touched at
Cyprus. The coast looked flat and uninteresting, but the bright morning,
the sparkling sea, and the manifold associations attaching to the islands
inspired great curiosity and deep interest, though I felt by no means
well. I began to be conscious that my appetite for travelling had
somewhat palled, if not become almost dead. We landed at Larnaca, and
found it a very poor place. The Greek churches were somewhat curious,
from the circumstance of old columns with characteristic capitals being
built into the walls. I noticed Greek priests sitting in wine shops, and
some of them occupying places of traffic, selling different articles in
huckster-like hovels. These men indicated the social degradation of
inferior orders in the Eastern Church. However it may be with the
dignified clergy in Russia, certainly priests in Palestine, Syria and the
Mediterranean Isles afford low types of civilisation. After dwelling on
what is related about Cyprus in the Acts of the Apostles, the conversion
of Sergius Paulus, and the conduct of Elymas the sorcerer, became very
real narratives; and with these memories in our minds we re-embarked and
had a pleasant evening as we sat on deck. I fell asleep with the
prospect of reaching Rhodes the next day.
The harbour, with its well-known mole and adjuncts, is very picturesque.
We climbed up narrow streets, full of houses once occupied by the
knights, and from the fortification, had an extensive view of the island
and the Mediterranean. The Church of St. John, blown up by gunpowder,
and shattered to fragments, seized on my imagination for a good while, as
I wandered, and sat down on a spot, so rich in romantic story. We then
returned to the interior of the town, and at the harbour watched the
boatmen, busy at the seaside. As we were doing so, one of my companions
exclaimed, “Stoughton, you’ve got the jaundice!” and, sure enough, when
we reached our steamer, the looking-glass proved this was true. When I
rose next morning my limbs were of a saffron colour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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