to me, is God's house... In the East I see Him, Umm Amin, and in the West; in the cathedrals of Rome I have seen Him, mother, and from the rooftops of Mecca... in this valley of ours, and in every valley... In the desert of the Arabs I walked, and God walked beside me, barefoot; and in the clamor of New York, God was likewise with me...

God is great, Umm Amin, and mighty; and if people can find Him only in a small house, then so be it, and let them believe their belief..."

The star that was over Sannine has set, and its sister over the sea as well...

... I was in awe of entering the hall of kings, where the kings of the Arabs gather with Rihani.

... And had not Albert Rihani greatly steadied my heart — he the master of the house and its elder, boon companion of kings and vagabonds in the Rihani house — my feet would never have stepped into that awesome room...

I entered the hall with an awe that seized even my steps, so that they nearly stumbled on the carpets; I gave the greeting of the people of Freikeh, my eyes fixed on the floor, and sat, politely, in the smallest corner...

Imam Yahya, lord of green Yemen, was sitting as great kings sit, and the sight of him overawed me...

And Abdulaziz reclined in an easy posture, in his face hardness and strength, and in his eyes the innocence of the desert... And Faisal the elder sat pensive, on his face the serenity of holiness, his eyes far away; and Ghazi — on his brow, clouds of which no one knows what storms they carry!

And Rihani was on the opposite side, with his deep eyes, a lock of his hair drooping over his brow and touching his lashes...

... And Rihani was reading Faisal's latest letter to him.

"... I have been asking after your news, and express-ing my longing for you and my desire to see you.

The glad tidings of your coming to us rang with joy and gladness... So welcome, and welcome again..."

— Why did you not come to us, Amin, when we had made all ready to receive you in Baghdad...

— Indeed, my lord Faisal, it is ever my intention; and if I ask God to lengthen my life, it is that I may live in the shade of your love, and of the love of all the kings of the Arabs.

The tall minarets of Baghdad never leave my mind.

Nor the tents of the desert.

And I have a craving to walk barefoot on the sands,

and for a draught of water from the tributaries of the Euphrates or the Tigris...

My heart is with the Arabs — with you, my lord — but my mind is not here; my mind is there... It is in my thoughts to visit the countries of the world, to make my endeavor in them, to struggle for the great cause to which I have devoted my pen and my heart.

The cause occupies my mind greatly... The world is against us... America — even America, that good country — stands united with England against the cause of Palestine and against the Arabs. What are we all to do here...

Allow me to say what you yourselves have done... You are great kings — but is it fitting that you should be great kings over wretched, feeble peoples?... God forgive me — our peoples need a unified leadership, a directing head; and had one led them toward a definite goal, they would have wrought wonder upon wonder...

What have we done for these peoples?... We made ourselves kings over them in their feebleness, and kept them in their feebleness. We want a leader — wherever he may come from, whatever he may be.

And we look about us, and find nothing but idlers kneeling in the dervish lodges!!

You are great, my lord Faisal.

And you are great, O long of life.

You are all great... but the nation is greater than you.

The cause is greater than you... The peoples you rule are greater than you, and great history will speak its word about you and about us all.

And Rihani takes from his desk a small book entitled "Flowers from the Holy Land," holds it in his hands, and continues: Flowers from the Holy Land... Look, my lords — is there still, in that land, a flower that lifts its face to the sun?

And what holiness remains in the Holy Land?... Abominations upon abominations, defilements upon defilements — sinful gangs wrecking our homes... and we fight them with the charlatanry of words...

... The sun is on the sea, its light dying slowly, and the evening creeps slowly into the valley and over the hills... Kings and poets from every corner of the earth gather, on an evening of the blessed month of fasting, in the house of a man whose tongue fasted from all but truth and whose heart fasted from all but purity. And Rihani points to the other slope, to Kesrouan, where the high domes stand among the church bells, and says: Here is the lair of stubborn Maronitism in Lebanon; here is Christianity in the lands of the Arabs, spreading its shadows over every slope and on every summit — in these crosses raised upon the high courses of stone, in the fragrance of incense rising from the depths of the houses on these clear Lebanese evenings. Here is Maronitism in Lebanon; here is Christianity, fearful and fearsome.

— Why, and of what, is this Christianity afraid, Amin?

— It is