Page 218 - Neglected Arabia Vol 2

Reflections on a Visit Along the Persian Gulf

Prof. Albert E. Suthers,
Department of Missions, Ohio Wesleyan University
"\\T 7 ALLS of barren rock whose jagged peaks are crowned with
/ crumbling battlements that guard the little white town of Muscat
VV half-hidden in the bay; a sea somewhat roughened by the east
wind that sweeps across the Gulf of Oman; a skv undimmed by
mist or cloud to mitigate the glare of the sun whose steady stare through
the live-long day has made the atmosphere an oven,—it was my first
glimpse and exjierience of Arabia. The scene was one of singular and
arresting beauty, nothwitbstanding the aspect of austerity and an all too
bold suggestion of relentlessness overspreading all. Surf beating futilely
upon the rock.'* and flung back bafflingly upon itself; a few distant paints
waving their fronds despairingly in the air and laboring to draw nourish­
ment from an obdurate soil; castle and fort with more than a hint of
rights dearly defended and defeats bravely borne; and above, an absolute
and impartial orb indifferent alike to imprecation, prayer or pleading,__
surely this Spartan environment was the birthland of Stoicism, and of that
brave, if sad, resignation toward those forces and their Author which the
ingenuity of man seemed powerless to command or circumvent.
Here is a crucible where human kind
Whs srordicd ami ImlTrled l»y sun and wind,—*
for ilic moment 1 found myself growing like the Inlmhllaiiln of the laiul,
('alvinislic, Islamic.
Alone 1 might not have cared to go ashore, hut a hotiric, long like t
log, deeep as a trough, and parlously narrow drew alongside. It was laden
with passengers,—Arabs, Baluchs, and men of African descent, for Muscat
be it remembered was once a busy slave-market,—who swarmed up the
gangway with every conceivable and inconceivable parcel or possession.
And among them was one like, and yet unlike, the rest, the Mission doctor.
‘Do you know him?” The question came in an incredulous tone from
an Indian, a fellow-traveler. I professed some intimacy.
“He is a true Christian,” was the instant rejoinder. *‘I have known
him many years; there are not many men who are true Christians.*’ It
was an outsider’s testimony from within the limits of his own experience
to the character of one devoted servant of this people.
An hour later we stepped ashore. It was with no surprise therefore
that one noted that the faces of those we passed lighted up with a smile
of greeting at the doctor’s approach, a smile which broke into light laugh­
ter when he explained that his companion was one of those benighted
heings who unfortunately did not know ‘‘the language of the angels.**
But once ashore what impressions crowded the mind! The glare and
the heat were almost forgotten in surroundings reminiscent of romantic
bygone days when Western nations were in their commercial infancy, and
lured by legends of the riches of Araby and Ind, sought their fortune and
found their fate among rivals in the struggle for empire. An Albuquerque
in the city and a galleon in the harbour would have been no anachronism
to that picture. Through the streets a few men sauntered, clad airily in
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