We are in a fisherman’s skiff on the Sea of Galilee. We have just left Tiberias, the ancient city of Herod near the southern end of the lake, and are on our way to Capernaum, that white spot which you can see on the shore at the north where Christ lived and preached. It seems strange that one can carry the whole Sea of Galilee in his eye. I have always thought of it as only a little less than an ocean, or at least as big as the largest of our great freshwater lakes. The truth is that compared to Lake Michigan it is only a puddle. It is about half as large as Lake Cayuga, at Ithaca, New York, and standing on any of the hills rising precipitously about it one can plainly see the whole body of water.

This so-called sea is only six miles wide at its widest part from east to west, and from where the Jordan flows in at the north to the place where it empties out at the south the distance is a scant thirteen miles. The sea lies in the depression of the Jordan Valley, the river forming a winding canal two hundred miles long which connects it with the Dead Sea at the south.

Lake Superior is a little more than six hundred feet above the level of the ocean. The Sea of Galilee is more than six hundred and eighty feet below that level and lies in a nest of beautiful mountains which slope up from the water in picturesque shapes.

Over there at the west the shores are bright green and are spotted with wild flowers. The grass makes a waving sheet of emerald velvet which seems almost to reach the fleecy white clouds of the blue sky above.

Farther to the south are the Galilean mountains, now gray in the morning sun, with masses of smoky clouds hanging over them. They are full of water; and as I look, lo! the rain comes. The sun is still shining and has painted a rainbow over that part of the lake covering the town of Magdala, which, as you remember, was Mary Magdalen’s home.

Looking through the rainbow you can catch sight of the Mount of the Beatitudes where our Saviour sat when He preached the Sermon on the Mount. On the sloping little hill at the left it is said He commanded the weary multitude to sit down on the grass and fed the five thousand.

Now look eastward to the lands on the opposite sides of the lake and the Jordan. They rise straight up from the water. The hills are so steep that it would be almost impossible to climb them, and they are ragged and rough. That is the land of the Gadarenes, where our Lord cast out the devils into the swine which ran violently down a steep place into the sea.

All about us are the most familiar scenes of the Scriptures. Every bit of these shores has been hallowed; and as we look the figures of the Old and New Testaments spring into life. It is impossible to read the Bible in the Holy Land and not feel that its people were real men and women. The apostles had the same feelings as ours; they lived in a world much the same; they breathed the same air; they loved and sorrowed as we do to-day.

I doubt not our Lord appreciated the beauties of Galilee. Its scenery is as picturesque as that of any lake in the Alps, and its loveliness changes every hour of the day. I saw the sun set last night. The clouds hung heavy over the hills to the east of the Jordan and the sun gilded the top of the Mount of the Beatitudes as it went down in the west. A little before that these waters were a glorious yellow which faded away into a rich copper bronze. At the same time the heavens were burnished copper, cloud piled upon cloud, and the whole was mirrored in the glassy surface beneath. The Sea of Galilee has always been noted for its wonderful beauty. It was a pleasure resort at the time of Herod Antipas, and the palaces of Tiberias and Capernaum were famous all over the East.

Later on I had still another view of the lake. It was moonlight on the Sea of Galilee. The great round queen of the heavens, her golden face at its full, shone out of a mass of dark blue with black clouds behind it. The rays of the moon striking the sea obliquely painted a wide path of silver running from the hills of Gadara across the waters to Tiberias. I gazed at the scene from the window of my hotel over the minarets of a Mohammedan mosque. It reminded me of Lake Como and of some Scottish lakes.

As we ride up the lake to-day I watch closely the fishermen handling our craft. We are in a skiff about thirty feet long and four feet wide. It has a white leg-of-mutton sail which is filled by the wind from the south, and we are speeding over the water. Our boat leaves a pathway of diamonds dropped there by the sun. I reach over the side of the boat and let my hand trail in the water. It is cool. I dip up some in my palm and taste it. It is quite brackish.

Now the fishermen have laid their oars across the sides of the boat. They are depending on the wind to carry us onward. Some are asleep, among them one at the prow who lies with bare legs outspread, his bronzed face in the full glare of the sun. He is snoring. At the right is a man mending a net, while on the other side of the boat two are chatting. The scene might have been one on this same lake nineteen centuries ago, when Christ called men like these from their boats to be “fishers of men.”

By and by the subject of fishing comes up. Thinking of the great draught which Simon Peter and the other apostles drew up when they cast their nets at the command of our Lord at the time He appeared to them here after His crucifixion, I ask if there are still many fish in the lake. They tell me that the sea is alive with good fish and that quantities are carried to Nazareth and other Galilean towns every week. Some are sent to Damascus by railroad and some are salted and shipped off to Jerusalem. About a year ago a party took five tons of fish in one day. The catch was so great that fish sold in Tiberias for one cent apiece, and six pounds or more could be bought for a penny. All along the lake there are fishing villages where the fishermen are still to be seen dragging their nets or mending them as they float near the shore. I am told that there are three ways of fishing. One is by hook and the others are by nets. One kind of net is cast. It is used from the shores by the fishermen wading breast deep into the water. The net is a great ring or disk of thread weighted with lead. As it sinks, it takes the shape of a dome, falling upon the fish it incloses. The fisherman dives down and draws the leads together and carries net and catch to the banks. Much fishing of this kind is done near Magdala. Another net is a dragnet, with floats at the top and leads at the bottom. This is usually worked from a boat dragging the net so that it forms a loop and scoops in the fish. Among the fish caught are excellent bass, some of which we have had at the hotel. An especially curious fish is that known as the chromis simonis, the male of which carries the eggs and the young about in its mouth.

The storms come up quickly on Galilee. I have seen several since I arrived in Tiberias and have experienced one or two on the sea. It was during one of these storms, when they were crossing the sea, that the apostles came to our Lord, who was sleeping, and begged him to save them. He arose and rebuked the waters, and lo, it was calm.

At the time of another storm He was not with them, having gone up into a mountain apart to pray. The ship was in the midst of the sea, tossed by the waves, when the disciples saw Him walking on the water. They were troubled, and, thinking Him a spirit, cried out for fear. Then Jesus said: “Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.”

And you remember how when Peter tried to go to Him, and when he saw the wind boisterous, his heart failed him and he began to sink, Jesus stretched forth His hand and caught him, saying: “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” And when they were come into the ship the wind ceased.

But our wind also has dropped. The boatmen are lowering the sails and we are gliding to the shores of Capernaum. They are now covered with rich meadows, with here and there ploughed fields and crops of fast-growing grain. From the boat we can see no signs that a city once stood on the spot. The only evidence of life is a low, gray, one-story monastery belonging to the Franciscans, who are excavating the ruins and digging temples and synagogues out of the soil. They own several hundred acres running along the beach and extending for perhaps a mile up the hills. Some of their lands are under cultivation, and there are orchards of lemons, oranges, and almonds to the east of their buildings.

Landing at the wharf we enter a door in the walls which surround the excavations. I introduce myself to Father Wenderlin, an austere-looking priest who speaks German. He takes me around and shows me the results of the work. He says they are digging up what is believed to be the actual synagogue where Jesus Christ taught when He came here from Nazareth. As you must remember, Capernaum was His home. It was from here that He found most of His disciples and here He cured Simon’s wife’s mother who lay sick of a fever. Here, disgusted with the wickedness of the city, He said:

The prophecy then uttered has long since come to pass. The city of Capernaum is not.

The ruins of the synagogue show the splendour of the ancient city. I walked around its boundaries. It was fifty-four feet long and seventy-two feet wide. Its front, which faced the sea, had a great many marble columns, and it was built in two stories, the upper of which was for the women. The pillars are three feet thick, smoothly finished and exquisitely carved. The marble work is that common in Rome shortly before the time of Christ, and much of it is uninjured.

So far only a small portion of the site of Capernaum has been explored. There are a thousand acres or so left that in all probability contain ruins which, when exposed, may cast new light upon the days and time of the Saviour. The Franciscan monks will not permit relics to be taken away, and they forbid the use of cameras. Father Wendelin carries a long black snake whip with him, and I am told that he uses it if he is not obeyed. The other day a woman tourist brought in a camera under her coat and, notwithstanding his objections, took a snapshot, whereupon he is said to have laid hold of her and thrown her out of the place.

I am stopping at Tiberias in a little German hotel where I have a comfortable room looking out on the water. Tiberias is the largest settlement on the sea. It lies on the western shore at the southern end, within a mile or so of the Horns of Hattin where it is said Christ delivered the Sermon on the Mount. It is only a short sail from where the Jordan flows out to the Dead Sea, and from Semakh, where the railroad now goes north on its way from Haifa to Damascus.

The city was the capital of Galilee, and it was at the height of its prosperity when Christ was living at Capernaum. It was founded by Herod Antipas, the son of Herod, the baby killer, and was named after the Roman Emperor Tiberias. It was constructed while Christ was living in Nazareth, and was a new and thriving city during His residence at Capernaum. It is doubtful that He even visited it, for the Bible does not mention His doing so.

The city had a palace and a race course in those days, and after the destruction of Jerusalem it became the chief seat of the Jewish nation. It is still one of the three holy cities of the Jews and it has many Israelites among its citizens. They go about in long coats and caps bound with fur, and are noted for their piety and for their knowledge of the Talmud. Many of them are Spanish Jews who have come here to live on account of the holiness of the city.

The Tiberias of to-day is not attractive. It is a mass of gray stone and brick buildings, with flat roofs painted white. The streets are narrow and filthy and smell to heaven. The Arabs have a saying that the king of the fleas lives here. The human population is something like eight thousand, of whom about two thirds are Jews and the remainder Mohammedans and Christians. The Jews have ten synagogues and there is also a Mohammedan mosque. The northern limits of the place are marked by the ruins of the Roman town, and the remains of its walls and a gate are still standing.

The hot springs on the shores of the lake a half mile from the city, which were famous in the days of the Romans, are still used. They are in many respects similar to those of Carlsbad, the waters containing sulphur, chloride of magnesia, and iron. They are good for skin diseases, and if they were under American management might be made to pay well. One of the most interesting and valuable institutions in this city is the hospital belonging to the Scottish missionaries. It has thousands of patients a year and is doing great good.

I came here from Nazareth riding over the mountains of Galilee. The road is fairly good, although it is up and down hill all the way. About six miles from Nazareth I stopped at the village of Cana where our Lord was a guest at the wedding feast and turned the water into wine. I even saw the stone jars or tubs which the people who own one of the churches there say were the jars used for that miracle. They are kept inside the church, and it took several fees to get to them. They are great limestone receptacles, looking much like mortars, and it is likely that wheat was ground in them by means of a pestle.

I also visited the spring at Cana. As there is only one, it must have been from there that the water which was turned into wine was obtained. Four camels, six sheep, and two cows were drinking at it as I stopped, and a half-dozen girls with water-bags were waiting for their family supply. It is probable that Cana was much larger and more prosperous in the days of our Saviour than now.