National Geographic : 1914 Oct
From the villas on the hills, from the won drous palace, from old Buda that knew the Thund'ring Legion, as far as .eye can reach, past the Moorish Tem ple, from the Bastion by Maryas to the turn of the stream, a myriad lights ceaselessly twin kle. He. who has sailed past the Isle of Roses to the noble harbor on the Parramatta,* who has cast anchor under Vesu vius, who has seen the fair places of the earth from the Golden Horn to the Golden Gate, from Kiev to Rio, may bid them hush their ri valries, for when twi light has deepened, when the full moon is rising in the blue velvet over Buda, the loveliest pano rama of them all slowly unfolds. The gems'are the gems of old, but the setting is new. You are standing on the Corso, in Asia. Cross over, climb the hill upon the other side; T stand upon the walls of a dismantled fortress, GRAPH where stood the merci- At first gl; less Austrian in 1849; dimensions. cotton. now look down upon the changeless river, moving, as since the dawn of history it has moved, the warder on the confines of two worlds. Here was the Gate of the West. Beyond the eagles never flew, the legions never watched, the word of Caesar never passed. A thousand years go by; the Pannonian Legion is no more; the Co lonia of Aquincum is "one with Nineveh and Tyre"; all else has changed, but the Gate remains. Now it is the outpost of Islam, and the Buda Hills form the watch-tower of Christendom. It is here, not at Lepanto, that the Crescent wanes * Sydney, Australia. Photo by A. W. Cutler )F THE BRIDE SEEN IN THE PRECEDING PHOTO A MASS OF GORGEOUSLY COLORED RIBBONS ance it appears to be some rare beetle of colossal The loose girdle around the waist is of white when, for the third time in history, two civilizations contend for the ages to be. Look out now to the low-lying Mar garet Isle; look behind, far into the night, upon the verge of illimitable plains; look upon the spires and domes, the towers and minarets, of the Grenada of the North; look where you will, the thought that this is still, as ever, the debatable land is ever more insistent. Here it is that the well-nigh irresistible force, an atavistic cultus, breaking back upon the path of the rising sun, has come upon the well-nigh immovable body-the pas sionless, dreamy fatalism of the Orient.