William Young Martin

Summary

William Young Martin The East

Jerusalem the Golden—compassed about by the everlasting hills—beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth—the city of the Great King!
Instead of these, there was only the idea of desolation and defeat. “Is this the city that men call the perfection of beauty?”—a confused mass of shapeless, dirty, half ruinous houses, built without plan, and almost resembling the wreck of a conquered citadel. Yet every spot has a history: here the house of Pilate—there the Temple site—yonder the tomb of David
Source: Gutenberg

William Young Martin The East

The Mediterranean is by no means as smooth as a lake. Storms somewhat violent arise suddenly, but rarely last over a day or two.
Our first glimpse of Africa was far from pleasing—nothing but dreary barren sand, or rather mud-looking mounds, formed its frontier, with very few traces of habitation except numerous windmills on the hilltops—which are of no great elevation. Vegetation there appeared to be none. By-and-by, however, we entered upon the magnificent Bay of Alexandria, for shipping one of the largest and finest in the world.
Source: Gutenberg

William Young Martin The East

Long suffering is a Christian virtue, and charity is beautiful—covering a multitude of sins—but when its repetition again and again only fosters offences into ranker and unspeakable grossness, even forbearance becomes a crime—in this case against the world at large.
Disguise it as they may, the Turks are slaveholders. They hold all women, under whatever name they may call them, slaves. For politic reasons they are not to be detected selling them, but their traffic in the buying of them can scarcely be concealed.
Source: Gutenberg

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