Mount Carmel Wed. 27 [i.e. 26]] Dearest Mother. I am now become one of the prophets - at least I make merry in their room so to speak - and it's a very nice room I may add, and I am sitting writing at my own writing table with everything genteel about me. But I will begin where I left off which was at Limasol [Limassol]. The two old Americans proved a great resource. Mr Paton named them Mr Dooley and Mr Hinnessy, and their own names whatever they were could not possibly have been so suitable - oh, Mr Hinnessy, by the bye, was called Killalea! you have to be an American to carry off so Paddy a name as that! They were like 2 delightful old maids. They seemed to spend all their time travelling together and most of their travels in playing the Demon against each other for bets of from one to two cents. We taught them Bridge in the evening which they considered a very elegant game. We played until 11 when I went to bed and they eagerly returned to their patiences. On Tuesday early we got to Tripoli [Trâblous], a fascinating place - ridge after ridge of the Lebanon [Liban, Jebel] behind it, each one whiter than the other with snow: I have not yet seen the snow lie so deep on Lebanon. Mr Hinnessy, Mr Paton and I spent the morning on shore. Mr Hinnessy had to see a friend, so we left him and climbed up onto the roof of a tram - to the immense surprise of the natives - and drove off to the old town a mile inland. Here we made our way up to the great castle built by Raymond of Toulouse and wandered all over it in spite of its being a Turkish convict prison and absolutely forbidden to anyone. One single piastre overcame all difficulties. The town is moreover full of Saracen building of the very best kind, striped walls like Sienna, inlaid with panels of exquisite inscription and high narrow doorways with elaborate stucco work in the vaults above them. One of the mosques is built round a very very old shrine - it contains a sacred fish pond which is said to have been surrounded by the sanctuary of Astarte or even some more primitive lady of the same type. We walked about in the bazaars and bought green almonds and salted pistachios and one met me who had seen me in Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)] and could give me news of Hanna and all the people there. It was enchanting to see again the real Syrian dress, the long faintly striped robe giving you a general impression of white, with a broad red sash and a white scarf wound round the scarlet tarbush. We reached Beyrout [Beyrouth (Beirut)] at 4 and I hurried on shore and captured my letters at the Consulate and some very old Timeses for which I was grateful for I read them with enthusiasm all the evening, in spite of their being a month behind hand. I may mention that though I haven't alluded much to politics I am really thrilled by the Liberal split - I wonder if Ld Rosebery will be strong enough to reform the party, re-form I mean. I was delighted with Father's most waggish account of Posilippo. We spent rather a disagreeable night lying in port and unloading till 1 AM. It was a beautiful moonlight night and as it was impossible to sleep for the noise I spent some time watching the white robed Beyroutis packing the sacks of grain into their lighters, surreptitiously cutting a little hole in a sack now and then and filling their pockets or their mouths, for they got rather hungry working so long under the moon. Haifa we reached at 7 this morning - it has been a day of bewildering experiences. Everyone in Haifa, you must understand, holds a commission direct from the Almighty - except, Mr Monaghan who holds his only from a paltry king. There must be something in the air of Mount Carmel favourable to mental derangement of a special kind - at any rate, if you want to commence prophet you take a little house in Haifa; you could scarcely begin in any other way. I have already made the acquaintance of one or two for this afternoon I went down to Haifa - I live on the top of the hill and Haifa is half an hour away to seek out a teacher. The half wit but amiable son of my landlord accompanied me saying he wd take me to a German who wd give me advice as to when to apply. So we stopped at a neat little white house in the German colony and my guide began to converse in low tones with Herr Wasserzug - such is his incredible name - through the window while I studied the motto on the door: Gott ist unser Burg, they all have verses from the Bible over the doors. Presently I also approached the window and there was the Prophet in his shirt{sleeves} with bare arms working at his trade which I take to be, most suitably, that of a carpenter. He at once greeted me in the most fluent English, wrinkled up his funny round face and invited me to come in and see his wife who is a very nice cultivated English woman - I believe she brought the money which enables him to follow the Divine direction. I distinctly like Prophets - Herr Wasserzug is a chaming man, most intelligent about Semitic languages. He sent me off to one Abu Nimrud, a native, comme de droit, of Nineveh, who, he said was the best man he cd recommend. On my way I called on Mr Monaghan - upon my honour he's just as odd in his own way. A tall, stooping, high shouldered, bearded man with a weak mouth and vague eyes - the vaguer perhaps because I think I roused him from his midday sleep. He offered me books and advice and coffee all in a hurried agitated manner: "Can't I - mayn't I - won't you allow me to offer you any of the customary refreshments? a cup of coffee? no? no, no! Ah - hm - what do people take at this time? (NB it was 4) Yes, yes, a glass of water? - No? no." I took however a Persian history of the Babis from him and went off hunting Abu Nimrud all over the town.

Thursday 27. [27 March 1902] At last I found him in his shop in the bazaar, a polite old party with whom I speedily came to terms - he agreed to come up and give me my first lesson today, but need I say he hasn't come. The next thing was to get a Persian. My old friend 'Abbas Effendi the head of the sect, is now confined to Acre ['Akko]; something has happened, I don't quite know what, but anyway he and his younger brother have quarrelled and the brother got the Turks to forbid 'Abbas to leave Acre, though he has a house here too. I heard however that the son in law of 'Abbas, Husein Effendi, lived here and I determined to apply to him. Accordingly I made my way to his shop - a sort of little general store like the shop of a small country town - and in this unlikely setting I found a company of grave Persians, sitting round on the biscuit tins and the bags of grain, and Husein himself leaning over the counter. The typical, the unmistakable mystic, inheritor of all the centuries of Persian mysticism, he is of the pâte of which martyrs and ascetics are made and he wd go to the stake with the same dreamy ecstatic smile on his long drawn face as it wore when he answered my inquiries after 'Abbas Effendi who is for him the representative of the Bàb, the Prophet that was to come. The upshot of it is that I hope I shall end by getting a Persian to come and talk to me. A horse was the next necessity and horse dealers my next acquaintances - I see one at this instant upon the road bringing me up to horse to try. I am excellently lodged in two rooms with a balcony from whence I see all across the bay and Acre at the end of a long stretch of sand, and the Plain of Esdraelon with Kishon [Qishon] running through it, and far away Hermon [Sheikh, Jebel esh] white with snow.
Later. But for all that I find I shall have to déménager. Abu Nimrud came up this morning and gave me a long lesson, but he declared that it was too far for him to come and that he could only get me a Persian on condition that I wd come down into the town, so I rode down this afternoon and inspected the two hotels and fixed on one standing in a charming garden where I could get 2 big comfortable rooms; it has the further advantage of being kept by Syrians so that I shall hear and speak nothing but Arabic. Mr Monaghan came to see me while I was out, but I met him as I rode up - I was riding a horse something like a clothes horse, but I'm to try another tomorrow and Mr M. also has one in his eye that would do for me. Mr M. is most obliging. He is coming up here on Saturday and on Sunday we are going to ride to Athlit ['Atlit], a wonderful Crusader castle on the sea some 3 hours from here. Husein Effendi's brother in law is going to teach me Persian. He is a cheerful young man with a round face. It was a great joy to find your letters. Tell Father that alas! I haven't got the Zeiss. I am so sorry about it. Poor dear Maurice! what a bad time he has had and what hard lines that his hunting is stopped. I am going to write to my sisters in answer to their most entertaining letters. I hope my difficulties with regard to teachers are over and I fully expect that my stay will be most profitable as regards languages. Thank you so much for L.O.'s book; the other things I do not want as I lose them travelling. The Arabic letter has not reached me. I am much interested by your account of Paul and Fanny. Mr Legge!! What's your essay about, hey? Please keep me au courant of your works. A madman called Young writes and asks whether I'll sign one of my books for him! I want dreadfully to know how the Clarence difficulties are going. I don't want the History of the Khalifs thank you. I am much interested by Father's favourable account of Mrs Guy le Strange. Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude.

The New Hotel is my address, Haifa. I forgot to mention I've got another friend called Mr Gee! Aren't they names of Opera Comic! He is an Englishman, he sells me printing paper.