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Letters from Palestine

by J. D. Paxton · English · Gutenberg #43540 · 491,874 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Letters from Palestine

Author: J. D. Paxton


        
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                Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS FROM PALESTINE ***

LETTERS FROM PALESTINE




  LETTERS
  FROM
  PALESTINE:

  WRITTEN

  DURING A RESIDENCE THERE IN THE YEARS
  1836, 7, AND 8.

  BY THE REV. J. D. PAXTON.

  LONDON:
  CHARLES TILT, 86, FLEET STREET.
  MDCCCXXXIX.




  LONDON:
  BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS,
  WHITEFRIARS.




LETTERS ON PALESTINE.




LETTER I.


  _Beyroot, June 18th, 1836._

After a stay of twenty-four hours at Cyprus, rendered pleasant by
the several interviews which we had with the missionaries at that
place, we sailed about three o'clock P. M. with a fine wind, and
before night, the isle, and even the mountains of Cyprus, were
sinking out of view in the north-western waters. In the night our
winds became light. At a little past five in the morning I went on
deck, hoping to see the top of Mount Lebanon, which, from our run,
I thought must be within the reach of the eye; but a dull heavy fog
lay on our eastern horizon, and limited our view. Just as I was
finishing my breakfast, the captain put his head down the hatchway,
and let me know that the mountains could be seen. I ran on deck, and
could see the faint outline of the top of Mount Lebanon, peering
above a long line of fog that spread like a wide circle round the
horizon. The upper part of the fog was breaking into irregular
masses and rolling off; at times the mountain could at some points
be seen very clearly; then, again, the fog or clouds would close in
upon it, and hide it from our view. The highest parts of it were
partially covered with snow. It lay, however, in parts and parcels;
and often in long irregular forms. This was owing, most probably,
to the form of the ground on which it lay; being most abundant in
hollows, and on the north sides of ridges.

Great is the power of association. From my childhood, I have been
taught to read the book of God, and prize its precious truths; and I
bless God, and thank my dear and beloved parents, more for this, the
religious instruction they gave me, and their prayers, than for all
other benefits received through them; and they have not been few.
Mount Lebanon I found often, very often, referred to in that best of
all books; and, from the various ways in which it is introduced, it
associates itself in my mind with many parts of Scripture history;
with some of its most touching incidents; with many of its most
precious and consoling truths. How often in my boyhood, and even in
more mature days, have I wished, like Moses, that I could see that
"goodly mountain and Lebanon!" Now, indeed and in truth, I saw it
rising into view, and hoped before long to land at its foot, and in
due time to traverse its ridges, visit its cedars, and drink of its
pure snow waters. I was born and grew to manhood among mountains,
and it is natural for me to love mountain scenery. A landscape is
to my eye,--I was going to say, defective,--that does not give, at
least, a glimpse of a mountain.

I was often much struck with my feelings on this matter, during
the ten or fifteen years I have spent in situations in which no
mountains could be seen. When a journey of business or pleasure led
me to the neighbourhood of mountains, they appeared to have a beauty
and a charm in them, that rose paramount to all that the wide and
extended plains could have.

But never did I feel such pulsations of delight from beholding a
single mountain as now from looking at that "goodly mountain and
Lebanon"--that Lebanon so associated with patriarchs and prophets,
with the Land of Promise, with the Temple of the Lord, and with
those thousand things which give such ever newness and freshness to
the oracles of God.

As the day passed away, we drew nearer and nearer, but our winds
were so light, that our approach was slow, and a peculiar haziness
of weather much impeded our view of the changing aspect of the
mountain. Beyroot came in view towards night; but, owing to the
lightness of wind, and that against us, we did not reach it until
about sunrise next morning.

Beyroot lies at the south side of the river Beyroot, which runs in
from the mountains. The coast recedes at this place, and forms a
wide, open, halfmoon-like kind of a bay. A small part of the town
lying near the water appears pretty closely built; but much of the
town, or very many houses, stand out over the gentle rise of the
hill, with gardens connected with them. Indeed, the whole face of
the plain and ridge, on which the town stands, is quite covered with
trees. The trees are not large, being many of them mulberry, almond,
(the pride of China I think it is called), a few olive and apricot,
&c. I have seen no place in the East that struck me more pleasantly
than Beyroot.

The mountains behind it rise in succession. They have a good many
trees on them, but are not entirely covered. They appear to be
rather confined to spots as if planted by man, and cultivated for
special purposes. With the help of a glass, I can see that, while a
small growth is more generally spread over the side of the mountain,
there are many places where a much larger growth may be seen. But I
must omit farther notice of this until I have rambled over them, and
ascertained their true character.

We learned, on communicating with the shore, that there had been
several cases of plague, that the quarantine was strict, and that we
should have nearly two weeks' quarantine to pass, before we would be
allowed to have free intercourse with the friends we hoped to find
there.

In the course of the day our consul came off, and informed us that
he had procured for us a house in a healthy and airy part of the
suburbs, in which we must pass our quarantine. Mr. B. also, who is
connected with the mission at this place, came off to see us. From
him we learned that the Rev. E. B. Smith and lady had, within four
or five days, left this for Smyrna, partly on account of Mrs. S.'s
health, which has lately failed much; and that the other families
were on the mountains, about three or four hours' ride from town.




LETTER II.


  _Beyroot, June 27th, 1836._

We had hoped to get out of quarantine to-day, or at least to-morrow,
when to our discomfort we heard that they had added four days to
our time, owing to information which they had received from Smyrna.
There is no better way to manage such matters than patiently to wait
until the time is out. But as they give me more of quarantine, I see
not why I may not tell you more about it.

Through the kind agency of our consul we were not put in the
Lazaretto, which is said to be a miserable place at best, and
worse now as the plague is there; but had a very comfortable house
assigned us, to the west of the town, on the side of the hill,
nearly a quarter of a mile from the walls. The whole side of the
hill where we are is cut up in plots, which form gardens planted
with trees, and here and there is a dwelling-house. We had all our
baggage landed and carried by the _crew_ to our house, except a
few boxes, which being wood were not infectious, and were carried
by porters. Two guardians are assigned us--one of them must be
always at the house, to see that no person touches us, or any of
our articles; the other we may send on errands, such as to do our
marketing. They are not to touch us, nor we them.

They bring us what we want, lay it down, and we take it. They bring
us water, wood, jugs, pitchers, dishes, provisions, fruits: these
are not infectious--but cloth, paper, &c. are. They bring us notes,
papers, books; but we cannot send such articles without a special
observance. For instance, if we wish to send a letter to any one, or
a note not as big as your finger, with the name of any article on it
which we may need, the guardian may not touch it. He takes a small
box; you put it in; he takes it to the health-office, where it is
smoked with sulphur, and then it may be received and read. Or, you
may write on a small board, or on a slate; the guardian may touch
_them_. While there is care to avoid touching you or anything that
conveys infection, there is, in other respects, a free intercourse.
We received many visits--our friends come, and sit down, a few feet
from us, and remain as long as they please, conversing with us, and
thus helping to while away the time. They furnish us with any books
that we may need, and we at the end of our quarantine can restore
them. We are allowed to walk as much as we please, taking one of our
guardians with us, who sees that we touch no one or anything that
conveys infection; availing ourselves of this privilege, we have
rambled about a good deal, and made ourselves acquainted with the
neighbourhood.

To the west and south-west, at a quarter of a mile from the town,
commences what may be called _the sands_, which gave me a better
idea of the _sands of the desert_ than anything I have before seen.
The whole surface is a bed of fine sand. It includes the highest
part of the promontory, and much, if not all the south-west side of
it. There is, at places, occasionally, a weed or bush, but much of
the surface is very fine sand, which is moved more or less by the
wind; and as the wind blows much from the south, the sand has the
appearance of approaching nearer and nearer the town--at the place
where it stops, and the gardens begin, the sands are a good deal
higher than the gardens, ten, fifteen, or twenty feet; and the bank
advances, owing to the sand that is carried forward by the wind, and
rolls down towards the gardens. Some houses and fields have been
covered, and others are in danger, and must soon be overwhelmed with
it.

The side of the hill next the city, and west of it, is all cut up
into small plots; and much labour has been expended in making these
plots level. The side of the hill is thus thrown into terraces
one above another, but without any order or regularity. The plots
are of various sizes and shapes. A stone wall is built up at the
lower side, and the earth drawn to a level. On the tops of the wall
is often planted the Indian fig, or prickly pear, which abounds
here. Few of these gardens have either flowers or vegetables in
them--have, in fact, little else beside mulberry-trees, with a few
fig, olive, apricot, pomegranate, and other fruit-trees. From the
appearance of the hill side, I am disposed to think, that it was
once covered more with houses than it now is--that the levelling
of the ground may, in part at least, have been made to fit it for
houses, which have now disappeared. There are some old cisterns,
pillars, &c., which indicate this.

I have met with several things which struck me with some force, as
illustrating Scripture. The roofs of the houses are flat, and a way
is made to ascend to the top, which is a most pleasant place for a
walk in the cool of the evening. "Samuel called Saul to the top of
the house."--1 Sam. ix. 2, 6.

A number of the houses have a kind of a tent on the top, made of
reeds, &c., in which they sit, and I believe sleep. "They spread
Absalom a tent on the top of the house."--2 Sam. xvi. 22.

There is usually a small railing, or elevation, round the edge, to
prevent any from falling over; and the law of Moses required them to
make a battlement for this purpose.--Deut. xxii. 8.

While some have tents on the top of the house, others have them out
under the trees; and the fig-tree and the vine, having large shady
leaves, are very favourable for this. Thus they sit "under their
vine and fig-tree." And where they do not use tents they are very
fond of sitting out under the trees. They usually take out a straw
mat or small carpet, which they spread down; sometimes on this they
lay their beds, and sit on them. They have not feather beds, as we
have, but a kind of wool mattress, which is easily folded up and
removed. Mr. and Mrs. ----, who are of our party, are natives of
this place, and hopefully pious. They often take out their mat, and
spread it down under a tree, and spend much of the day there. In our
walks we see many thus under the vines and fig-trees, whiling away
their hours.

Almost every night we hear music and dancing at no great distance
from us. The music is hardly worth the name--is a kind of _beating_,
accompanied with some wind instrument, and serves to keep the time.
The dancing, as it is called, is not much more than a slow walking,
stooping, changing of position. It has none of that active and
fatiguing action which dancing has in the western world. The men and
women do not join together in it. It is done almost wholly by men;
and often old men. The women sit by and look on. The Sabbath night
appears more especially a favourite time for this amusement.

The promontory on which Beyroot stands is low at the south-east
side, where it joins the main land, and on that low part, which once
may have been covered with water (making the promontory an island),
there is much sand. On a part of this there are many pines; a few of
them are large; and a large space is covered with small ones. There
is some care taken of them, and persons are not allowed to pillage
them. The larger ones are trimmed up very high, and have a large,
flat, bushy top, which gives them a rather singular, but pretty
appearance.

The sycamore here is a different tree from that which bears the name
with us. The wood is valuable, being hard and very durable. It is a
low tree, with a thick body, many branches, shaped a little like the
apple-tree, the leaf large. It bears a fruit which is to some extent
valuable. One of the prophets said he was "a gatherer of sycamore
fruit." It would seem that much of it was used, and gathering of it
a business.

There are few, if any, springs here, as we should call them--but
wells; at least, in all my walks I have not seen any. There is a low
place a little out of the city gate, where there are three or four
wells. They are walled up, with a large flat area over them, in
the middle of which is a hole, large enough to let down a bucket.
There is no pump, or windlass, nor even a well-sweep; but a rope.
The vessel used almost constantly for bringing water, is a large
jug with two handles, and a small mouth. It may hold from two to
four gallons. They tie the rope to the neck or to the handles, and
let it down. It fills, and they draw it up. In passing these wells,
especially in the evening or morning, you find a crowd of people
drawing water. Some have mules and donkeys on which they carry
it--usually having four of these water-pots, two swung in a wooden
frame on each side of the animal. The others carry the jar on their
shoulders, or rather on the back, held over the shoulder; but one
hand is raised to support it. You see no one carrying anything in
his arms, as is the custom with us, but upon the head or shoulder
when not too large, otherwise upon the back--even children are
carried in this way--it is amusing to see the little things riding
upon their parents' shoulders. There is no vessel attached to these
wells; and thus we see the force of the saying of the woman, "Thou
hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep;" and thus Rebecca
came "out with her pitcher upon her shoulder." A large proportion of
those whom we saw drawing water were females.

The Turks are usually a grave and silent people. They talk less
than the Greeks, and indeed than almost any other people that I
have been among. It was therefore rather a novelty to meet with one
who was of a different cast of temperament. Both our guardians are
young Turks, I should think about twenty; and very good-looking. One
of them is rather of a grave cast; a genuine Turkish, but withal
an unusually mild aspect. The other is as full of life and glee
and innocent mischief as he can hold. The first day or two he did
not show it much, except in occasionally playing off a little of
his humour on his companion. He then began upon Angelo, my Maltese
servant, whom I had engaged at Smyrna. The Maltese language is a
dialect of the Arabic, and they could therefore converse with him.
Our establishment having but two rooms, one of which being occupied
by the ladies, and the other by the gentlemen, Angelo had to take
up his lodgings in the porch where some of the baggage was placed.
The guardians slept in the yard under the tree. They pretended
that they would do all sorts of bad things to him at night, and
excited his fears not a little. On finding it out I interposed, and
assured them, through an interpreter, that if they did not desist
from thus working on his fears, I would report them to the police.
They assured me they were only in fun, and would not trouble him.
Angelo had more spunk than I expected; he got a large knife to
defend himself with--we took it from him. I told him to sleep in our
room--he would not. I told him to sleep close to the door, which I
left open; no, he would sleep at his selected place--and he did.

When we walk out, one of our guardians always walks with us, and
generally the lively and talkative one chooses that office. He
amuses himself and us in various ways, and usually contrives to put
in a claim for a boksheesh (a present) at the close of the walk.
As he does not always get it, it is amusing to observe in how many
ways he contrives to let us know that it would be very acceptable.
At times when he does not get it, he pretends to his companion that
he has; and thus has sport with him, in refusing to let him have any
part of it. They are very obliging--I have seldom seen more perfect
good-humour than they manifest.




LETTER III.


  _Beyroot, July 4th, 1836._

I think I informed you that Beyroot is a walled town, and has a
strong garrison. It is held under Ibrahim Pasha, and for his father
or step-father Mahommed Ali of Egypt. Ibrahim spends most of his
time north of this at Aleppo, Tripoli, Scanderoon, and Tarsoos. He
is erecting a palace not far from Aleppo, and may possibly purpose
making that his home. Beyroot is the most important port on the
coast, but still its trade is small. The walls are of considerable
height, appear strong, and have several strong towers connected with
them. The number of troops at this place I have not been able to
ascertain with certainty; there must be several thousands, possibly
from 3000 to 5000.

I have been equally unable to ascertain the population of the town
and suburbs; nearly one-third of the population, I should think,
live without the walls, in what is called the Gardens. The houses
without the walls are much more pleasant, at least in summer, than
those within the town. They stand apart; have gardens and trees
about them, are higher and much more cool. The town stands in a
low spot, is much crowded with houses, has narrow filthy streets,
and during the hot weather the heat is considerable, which causes
sickness. The gates of the town are guarded, and at an early hour in
the night all but one are closed. This one is kept open to a late
hour.

At the quay, or public landing-place, there is an immense number
of old, broken pillars. The wall fronting the bay is for thirty,
possibly fifty yards, composed almost wholly of them. Most of them
are more or less broken. Many of them have been connected, no
doubt, with buildings of consequence, as their high finish seems
to indicate; a number of them are fine Egyptian marble. They are of
various sizes, but most of them of the largest kind. Broken pieces
of pillars and other work in marble are to be seen in many places
about the town, both without and within the walls, all indicating
that, at some period, this was the seat of wealth and taste, of
luxury and splendour.

       *       *       *       *       *

  _Brumanah, Mount Lebanon, July 20th, 1836._

After getting out of quarantine, and spending ten or twelve days
in Beyroot to see the place, I came up to this village, where the
mission families are spending the summer months. It lies about three
hours' ride from Beyroot, on the top of one of the ridges which runs
down from the main ridge of the Lebanon towards the sea. It may be
about one-third of the way to the top, and one-third of the height
of Jebal Sun-neen, the highest point of Mount Lebanon. We have from
Bru-ma-nah a fair view of the mountains, as they rise above us, and
run far to the north-east and south-west: a long sea coast spreads
out before us--the town of Beyroot--the shipping that lies off the
town on the face of the smooth waters, all rise into view, and give
a rich and beautiful variety to the prospect.

Nearly one-half of the village is composed of Greeks, and the other
half about equally divided between the Druses and Maronites. They
all speak the Arabic, which is indeed the vernacular language of
this region. The people appear friendly, and but for the influence
of the priests would, no doubt, give more proof of their friendship.
The missionaries have opened a school among them, which promises to
do good. The females wear what is called the tantoor on their heads.
It is very like those tin horns which are often used by hunters to
call their dogs; stage-drivers at times use them. The tantoor is a
foot long; the largest part is fixed to the forehead, and by means
of a small piece of wood, or some such thing, which passes over the
head, and is fastened to the hair, the whole is made to stand upon
the head like a horn. It usually leans forward, and reminds one of
the figure of the unicorn. The horn is of silver, and has at times
various ornamental devices engraved on it. The chief use of it seems
to be to sustain the veil, which is universally worn by the women
here. It is thrown over the horn, and hangs down over the shoulders.
When men are present, they draw the veil with one hand close over
the mouth, so as to cover the lower part of the face, leaving but
one eye exposed. While they are thus careful to cover the face,
they often, I might say usually, leave the breast most shamefully
exposed. Indeed, they seem to have pride in exposing that part of
the body.

Sometime before I got out of quarantine, there was a death in the
Emeer family of this village; and, as is the custom, the people are
not allowed to wash their clothes for forty days--as they are not
much given to cleanliness at any time, this was an order grievously
out of place. About the time I came up the people were most
fearfully dirty. The days of restriction are, however, past, and it
is thought the people have been using water. It is a rare evil for
people to get habituated to--a disregard of cleanliness--for it is
hard to correct the evil.

Most, if not all, of the houses here are of one story--a few,
indeed, that stand on the hill-side, have a small room under the
elevated side of the main floor. The floors are uniformly, as far
as I have seen, made of clay, as also is the roof. They wet it and
make it into a kind of mortar, and have a heavy stone roller with
which to make it smooth. For the roof, pieces of timber are laid
across, mostly a few strong beams, then across them smaller pieces
of boards, and flat stones; and on these the earth is laid, in a
wet state, and the roller made to pass over it, until with that
and their feet they make it hard and smooth. All the roofs are
flat, having some little channels to collect the water, and a low
place at one side to let it off. There is a way of ascending to
the top, which, in large houses, is a fine place for walking and
taking the air. These roofs do very well in dry weather, but in
the rainy season the water, it is said, comes through, and gives
much annoyance to the inmates. The sides are usually made of stone,
very coarsely put together; very little mortar is used--often none.
They plaster the inside with clay, such as they use for making the
floors; and give it a slight coat of whitewash. It is, to be sure,
done in poor style; still the houses do pretty well for a summer
residence. Generally they have but one room, but occasionally they
have two or three.

These flat roofs and their earthen materials illustrate what was
meant by the grass upon the house-tops--grass does often spring up
in the wet season, but the heat of the sun withers it and it comes
to nought.

"Shall men give into your bosom?"--The usual dress here, is a long
robe, not much unlike a woman's gown. It is fastened about the
waist with a girdle. This is a long, large piece, often as large,
and even much larger than a sheet, but of a fine texture; usually
of the shawl kind. They wrap this round them four or five times,
forming a band from four inches to a foot wide, as the taste of each
may be,--then give such a fastening to the end as each may choose.
It is odd, and to us laughable to see them putting them on. I have
seen them fasten the end of their long girdle to a door, post, or
table--adjust its folds--regulate its width--put one end to their
body, and turn round and round until they have wrapped it all to
their liking. Yea, I have seen them do it on the road. On my visit
to Nice, not long after I left that plain, I passed a man on the
road who from some cause wished to adjust his girdle. Possibly it
was a preparation before he entered that city of ancient name. He
had stopped, taken off his girdle, adjusted its width, arranged
its folds, fastened one end of it to a bush, drew it out to its
full length, applied the other end to his side, and holding it,
turned round and round carefully, attending to its width and the
adjustment of its folds. I felt strongly disposed to laugh, and
had there been any one to join me in it, I doubt not should have
laughed heartily, the danger of offending the gravity of the Turk
to the contrary notwithstanding. But there is no fun in laughing
alone; and my old Greek guide looked as grave as if he saw nothing
amusing, in seeing a man winding himself in a shawl. But to the
point I meant to illustrate. The part of the dress above the girdle
having an opening, is used for stowing away all sorts of things;
handkerchiefs, when they have any; bread, fruit, &c., nothing comes
amiss; they put it into the bosom. As the receptacle goes all round
the body, it is equal to three or four of those large pockets our
great-grandmothers used to wear.




LETTER IV.


  _Bru-ma-nah, July 23d, 1836._

I have just returned from a tour of four days among the mountains.
The ladies rode on donkeys, which are not much larger than the
largest kind of sheep; they have great strength and a pleasant gait.
They are also sure-footed, which in such rough roads is no small
recommendation. I hired a mule, the owner of which, as is usual in
such cases, went along to take care of his animal. The other two
gentlemen had their own horses. It is not here as in Europe, where
you can find taverns and beds. There are no such things here. We, of
course, had to take all things needful for eating and sleeping. We
carried two tents--one for the ladies, the other for the gentlemen;
our bedding, provisions, utensils for cooking, a pot, a pan, plates,
knives, forks, spoons, coffee, tea-cups, sugar, salt, towels, &c.
We required, of course, two or three mules to carry these, and a
servant to take care of them and cook for us. Although our plan was
to take no more than was really necessary, we made quite a cavalcade.

You have, no doubt, heard that coal has lately been found in the
mountains near Beyroot. The chief mine that is worked lies near
a village called Corneil, about three or four hours' ride from
Brumanah, and up near the main ridge of the mountain. Our first
object was to visit those mines which lay south-east of Brumanah. We
passed up the ridge on which Brumanah stands, but gradually wound
along its south-east side, until we reached the bottom of the ravine
which separates it from the ridge which lies to the south. Much of
the higher part of the ridge on which Brumanah stands is of the
sandstone formation; it is, however, singularly mixed with patches
of limestone. We found the ravine a most rugged and rocky one, and
almost wholly of limestone. We saw many loose masses of green stone
at the bottom, which must have been brought from some distance, as
there was no appearance of that rock in sight.

In crossing the next ridge, we passed a village, in the midst of a
well-cultivated spot. There were more trees, and vines, and garden
herbs, than I had seen at any of the villages that I had passed.
The prince of this village has a pretty good-looking palace, of
considerable size. We passed close by it, and as the people within
assembled to see the party of Franks, it gave us an opportunity to
see them. After ascending about half way up this ridge, we again
passed into the sandstone formation, which occupies the top, except
some small locations of limestone, which appears in some strange
way to have got out of its proper place. But of this hereafter. We
passed over this ridge, and at the foot, near the lower part of
the sandstone formation, we found the coal mines. Mr. Brattle, the
English superintendant, received us most kindly, and took us through
and showed us the mine. He has made four or five openings, and finds
ample stores of coal. It is from three to four feet thick--dips a
little into the mountain--has several considerable falls in the
strata, which will require more labour in working it. There is
another mine south of the next ridge, which is also now worked. The
coal is not, however, as good as at the one we visited. None of the
coal yet found is as good as the English coal, but most probably a
further search may discover coal of a better quality.

It is about ten or fifteen years since this coal was first
discovered. Several men were sent to examine it, but were not
skilful, and did not report favourably. There was an attempt to work
it a few years since, but no good resulted. At length Mr. Brattle,
who is acquainted with the business, was induced to come out, and
under his direction they are becoming more and more important. He
labours under great disadvantages, from the absence of most of those
aids and facilities which are so needful in carrying on such work.
He has proved, or is proving, however, that they are valuable.
This coal is carried on mules and donkeys to Beyroot, over a most
villanous road. Were a good road made, and proper coal wagons used,
it would greatly facilitate the matter. But that day is not yet
come. There is no such thing as a wheeled conveyance here, at least
I have seen none, nor the track of one of any description.

There is a great irregularity in the sandstone strata near and
above the coal, it is thrown about in all sorts of ways. But I
shall have occasion to notice this repeatedly in my tour. After
spending several hours at the mine, Mr. Brattle took us to his
house at Corneil (the old palace, the best house in the village),
and entertained and lodged us with great kindness and hospitality.
From the terrace of the palace, which looks towards Beyroot, we had
one of the most splendid views I have ever seen. We saw the sun set
in the ocean behind Cyprus; could distinctly see the island in the
full blaze of the setting sun. It lies so far to the west, that
it is only in peculiar states of the air it can be seen. Corneil
stands on a rocky knoll on the top of a ridge. At this place the
limestone is thrown up, while both above and below on the ridge
the sandstone prevails. It is surrounded with vines, mulberry, fig
and other kinds of trees. But they stop here. This is the highest
point on this part of the mountain where trees are seen. Almost
immediately after leaving Corneil we saw no more trees, not even
bushes, except occasionally a very low evergreen, which appeared to
be a kind of thorn. It grows in bunches, spreads over the ground,
but seldom rises above from six inches to a foot. Occasionally we
saw some heather and fern in wet places, and more frequently furze
and thistle; a few low flowers appeared, and some other mountain
plants that were new to me. The whole face of the mountain was
bare rocks, rocks, rocks. The ridge on which Corneil stands leads
up to a very high point of the mountain called, if I recollect
right, Jebal Knee-se. There are now, it is said, the remains of a
church and monastery on the top. It was a place of some interest as
an ecclesiastical establishment. It really must have looked like
literally getting up, if not _to_ at least _towards_ heaven, to
live upon the top of a mountain which is supposed to be from nine
to ten thousand feet above the level of the sea. It was, no doubt,
a monastic establishment. Why it was deserted I know not. I felt a
wish to visit it, but the labour would have been considerable, and
as another point which lies several hours' ride north-east is still
higher, and is the one that is usually ascended, and as we thought
the ascent of one would be quite enough for our invalids, we passed
round the foot of the high peak of Jebal Knee-se, and made for the
top of the ridge, at a low place between Jebal Knee-se and Jebal
Sun-neen.

The upper part of Jebal Knee-se is regularly stratified limestone,
and horizontal. It has many shells in it; we stopped and collected
some fine specimens of four or five different kinds. About the
middle of the day, we reached the top of the ridge of Lebanon, at
the low place between the two points before named. This place is
above the limits of trees and cultivation. The mountain is barren
even of bushes. There are, however, some of the smaller plants which
I mentioned a few lines above.

We had from this place a fine view of the Bokar, or plain of
Celo-Syria, which lies between Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon. It is a
long and narrow plain--narrow compared with its length. It may be
from fifteen to twenty miles wide, but must be several hundred miles
long. It looked like a dead level. We could see many villages in it,
and groves of trees, and the green fields. It was a lovely sight.
We pitched our tents on the top, and made our dinner, enjoying the
delightful view which lay around us on all sides. The cultivation on
the side next the plain ascended much higher up the mountain than
it did on the north-western side. There were fields of grain but a
short distance below us, so near indeed that one of our muleteers
took down his mule, and let it feed on the grain, and even brought
up a bundle of green wheat which he procured there.

The place on which we pitched our tents was the upper part of the
sandstone formation. There was a good deal of sandstone, breccia
or puddingstone, but near us on all sides the limestone formation
was seen. After the heat of the day was a little over, we set out
north-east along the top of the Mount for the Sun-neen, the high
point which is usually ascended, and on which the most snow is
found. There is a little flat, or nearly flat, space along the top,
on which we found a footpath, much beaten. All over these high
places the sheep and goats and cattle are driven for the sake of
pasture. We saw more flocks on these upper parts of the mountain
than we did on the lower parts.

Not far from our encampment, we passed a place near the upper part
of the sandstone formation, where strata of a peculiar character
cropt out. It split easily into lamina as fine as paper; was
peculiarly elastic. You might roll it up in rolls, and it would,
when let loose, spring back to its former state. It burnt freely.
You might almost make torches of it. It was, no doubt, bituminous
shale. In some places it had more of these properties than others.
The strata was of considerable thickness, as we could see on the
sides of the hollow on which we found it. It lay on the north-west
side, a little below the top of the ridge. Most likely, as the
strata was horizontal, it cropt out also on the south-east side next
the plain of Celo-Syria.

Two or three hours brought us to the foot of Jebal Sun-neen, and up
near the foot of the snows. Here we selected a good spot, and again
pitched our tents; intending to employ the next day in our ascent
to the top and return to the same place. We found it much colder
than it was in the lower parts of the mountain. We really needed
fire; but it was with difficulty that wood enough could be procured
to make our tea, much more to make a fire to warm half-a-dozen
people in the open air. We had, however, expected this, and brought
clothing accordingly, so that we did not suffer much.

In the morning, we began the ascent; we rode nearly an hour, and
took a donkey still farther for the benefit of the ladies; but
then left all our animals, and betook ourselves in good earnest to
the matter of ascending the Mount. On the side which we ascended,
between where we encamped and the top, are two or three offsets,
then the mountain falls off and leaves a kind of level. These
general levels have small ridges and round hills on them, and many
deep valleys and sink-holes, or holes of that peculiar kind which
abound in districts where a horizontal limestone stratum lies on
the surface. In these deep sink-hole places, and in the valleys,
and on the sides of the ridges, the snow was accumulated in great
quantities, but it did not cover the whole surface of the mountain,
as I had supposed it might. But a small part of the mountain had
snow on it. It lay in patches, and possibly not over one-twentieth
part was covered with it. I saw no ice--all was snow. From the
action of the sun and wind, it was just hard enough to walk on with
safety. The foot would sink in it one, two, or three inches--seldom
more. I walked on it in my shoes without inconvenience.

We were three hours in reaching the top--we proceeded slowly, and
stopped frequently to allow the ladies rest. We found the summit
much like the offset, which I have just described. There was what
may be called a general level, of a mile or two across, with many
rises in it, and full of deep holes of various shapes, some nearly
round, others long and narrow. These were full of snow. It was
usually much melted at one side, and the largest masses were, as a
general thing, found lying on the west or south-west side of the
hollow. What appeared most singular, was the fact, that for the most
part, the outsides of this great cone appeared the highest--around
it were the highest knolls, while the inner parts were lower, and
its holes and sinks more deep. The rain and snow water does not seem
to flow over and down the outside of the cone, but sinks in it, and
finds its way out as it can.

The whole upper part of the Mount, from where we pitched our tents,
which was near the sandstone formation, is limestone with its
varieties. It lies horizontally, and is stratified with unusual
regularity. This can be seen with great distinctness on the west
side of the Mount, where the deep hollow, in which a branch of
the river Beyroot heads, terminates against the cone, and makes a
regular, steep, sloping descent of, I should think, from four to
six thousand feet. Near the top, on the west side, I saw a small
spot of fine white marble--much of the rock, indeed, approximates to
marble. High up, at the north-east corner, we found some limestone
breccia, and saw, also, in various places, much arragonite, which is
a peculiar and rare variety of crystallised limestone.

But what gave us most interest were the shells which we found at
many places as we ascended, and also on the top itself. We found
some very fine specimens of them--four or more varieties. I procured
several, nearly as large as a common conch shell; all of them were
petrified. At various places on the side, and also on the summit,
we saw rocks that appeared little else than a mass of shells. As
to when and how they got there, I have at present but little to
say. Of one thing, however, I am fully satisfied, that they do not
contradict the Mosaic account. It is possible that they may, with
other facts which are collecting, prove, finally, that in some
points we have put a wrong construction on the Mosaic account.
Thus it was when the newly received system of astronomy was first
brought forward. It was assailed with more zeal than knowledge, by a
certain class of religionists, who insisted that it was at variance
with the Bible, which said the sun rose and set; whereas, this new
system made the sun stand still and the earth turn round,--and not
only the anathemas of the church, but the fire and fagot were called
into requisition, to maintain the good old received opinion, that
the earth stood still for the quiet of man, and the sun, moon, and
stars, which had nothing else to do, went round and round to give
him light. It was, however, found out at last, that the truth in
astronomy was not at war with truth in revelation--that the earth
might turn round, and move at the same time in its orbit, without
infringing, in the least, against the truths of the Bible. Thus, I
doubt not, it will be found with the geological fossils, which are
now accumulating, and some of them are truly singular. They will be
found to coincide with revelation.

I do fear, indeed, that some weak heads will be injured by these
facts, and that some minds wishing to find occasion against
religion, will eagerly seize these facts, and take it for granted
that they are inconsistent with the Bible account, and will
throw off all regard for that most precious book. Such persons
ought to recollect that geology is a science that is yet in its
_infancy_. That on some of the most important questions that bear
on its relation to the Mosaic account, there is not only a want
of agreement among geologists, but much contrariety of opinion.
Farther, this eastern world, where the main examination ought to
be made, has been but little examined; and still, the Bible will
admit of any explanation, in agreement with these facts, on the same
principles on which explanations in common life are daily received.

The view from the top of Sun-neen was most splendid. We had a most
extensive view of the Bokar, as the Celo-Syria plain is now called.
The great range of the Anti-Lebanon stretched along the farther
side, running parallel to that of the Lebanon. Parts of the former
had snow on them, and especially a high point that lay a good deal
to the south. On the general range of the Anti-Lebanon, there was
less snow; and I should think it a good deal lower than the Lebanon.
It has the same naked and rough appearance, and I am told is even
more rough, more destitute of forests, and less occupied with
villages. To the south, we could see as far as Mount Hermon and the
mountains about the sea of Tiberias. To the north, the plain ran
out till it met the horizon. The whole plain of Celo-Syria appeared
to be a dead level. The mountains rise from it as if they rose out
of a sea. In this it reminded me of the plain of Ephesus, which
stretches up almost to Smyrna. Baalbec can be seen from Sun-neen,
but the state of the air was not favourable to a distant view on the
plain. North of the point of Sun-neen, on which we stood, the main
ridge of the Lebanon sinks a good deal, as it does on the south.
Beyond this low place, at a considerable distance, I should think
a day's travel, say fifteen or twenty miles, it throws up another
high point, or mass of mountains. On this last point, which may be
about as high as the Sun-neen, grow the famous cedars so much spoken
of. Our plan was to have extended our tour so as to visit them and
Baalbec, which stands nearly opposite them, on the other side of the
plain, but some engagements and matters of duty did not allow all
the company to proceed thus far.

Our descent from the top was much more easy and expeditious than
our ascent, owing in part to an experiment we made with complete
success. On the south side of the point a hollow ran up almost to
the top; on the west side of this hollow was a large field of snow,
which extended from near the top to the foot of what I have called
the cone, or down to the second general level. We made a trial of
how we could descend on the snow, and found that, by keeping near
the edge, and walking with care, sticking the heel with a little
force in it, we could get along with much more ease and expedition
than we could over the rough and exceedingly rocky ground. Our
descent to our horses was soon accomplished; and just as the sun
went down under the western wave, we arrived at our tents, a little
tired it is true, but greatly gratified in having reached the top
of that "goodly mountain and Lebanon," perhaps the most interesting
mountain in the world.

While we were on the Mount, the day, as it shone on us, was
perfectly clear; the general state of the air, when we were shaded
with an umbrella, or under the shade of a rock, was pleasant. The
direct force of the sun was, however, warm. We were above the
clouds, and had a most interesting view of their forming far, far
below us, and especially on the sea. Soon after mid-day they began
to form on the far distant horizon over the sea, and continued to
increase until a large part of it was covered; and about the time
we reached the foot of the cone, where we had left our horses, the
clouds exhibited a most brilliant spectacle. A small strip of the
sea, near the foot of the mountain, had no clouds on it. It lay
smooth, like a frozen lake. The remainder, in all directions as for
as the eye could reach, was covered with immense masses of clouds,
which appeared to us like hills of cotton or wool upon the waters.
It reminded me of some of those great plains of the valley of the
Mississippi, covered with its immense forests, as seen from some
high point of the Alleghany or Cumberland range, after the fall of a
heavy snow. The clouds appeared about as high above the water as the
western groves rise above the plain--the irregularity of hill and
dale, and the fleecy whiteness of the clouds, as we looked upon the
upper part, which was strongly illuminated by the sun, corresponded
well with groves loaded with the new-fallen snow in all its virgin
purity.

To make the scene still more interesting, a wind set in from the
sea, and drove the masses of clouds against the mountains. We saw
the plains covered and again laid bare, as masses of clouds, like
the irregular columns of an army, passed over it--drove against
the mountains--rose higher and higher up its sides--and at last
swept over us and by us in huge piles. It was not one large dense
cloud, but a multitude of clouds of various sizes, and at different
heights. The sun pouring its flood of light upon these masses, so
various in height and density and rapidity of motion, presented the
most brilliant and perpetually varying spectacle that I have ever
seen. We had all the variety of tints and colouring that light and
shade can make, and that ever-changing aspect which is presented by
the kaleidoscope. There was, however, no rain; for while we often
have clouds on these mountains, there has no rain fallen since I
reached Beyroot, which is now more than six weeks.

We spent the night at the foot of the snows, where the former night
was passed; and having packed our minerals, shells, and flowers,
which we had collected, set off for Bru-ma-nah. We took a more
direct road than the one by which we came, as we wished to see as
much of the mountain as possible. We passed along a great ridge
that ran from our tents, at the foot of the cone, with various
irregularities, on to Bru-ma-nah. We found it much as the ridge on
which the coal-pits of Corneil are situate. The upper part of it
much of the way is of the sandstone formation. On the higher part
of this is a stratum of very fine puddingstone. Almost everywhere,
in this sandstone formation, we find petrified wood, much iron ore,
iron stone, and at many places slate, and all the indications of
coal. There can be no doubt that coal exists extensively in this
formation; and, from the tour which we made, I should think that
from one-sixth to one-fourth of this ridge was of the sandstone
formation. It lies about midway up the mountain; has, generally
considered, a horizontal position; but is at many places most
singularly thrown out of its place. At the heads of hollows, and at
the points of ridges, and often in other places, the limestone seems
forced up, but retains its horizontal position: at other places, the
sandstone is suddenly cut off, and begins again at a great distance
above or below;--but my paper is full.




LETTER V.


  _Bru-ma-nah, Aug. 2, 1836._

Last Saturday, I went down to Beyroot, mainly to spend the Sabbath
with the small number of Franks that usually meet at the American
consul's for worship. I had been on the mountains about three
weeks, and found the general temperature pleasant. The thermometer
seldom rose to 75° Fahr. The direct action of the sun was, it is
true, considerable, but I seldom, except when travelling, went
out during the greatest heat of the day. I found the heat greater
at Beyroot; from five to eight, and at times ten or more degrees.
Still the thermometer does not give the whole difference. There is a
closeness--an oppressive something in the air in the town that makes
it more trying than the same degrees of heat would produce on the
mountains. There is also a very manifest difference in the heat, and
oppressive character of the air, in the town, and in what is called
the Gardens--the numerous dwellings that lie without the walls,
and are scattered for several miles round the city, mentioned in a
former letter.

I have repeatedly witnessed since I came to the mountains an
appearance in the setting sun which I never before saw, nor have I
ever seen it noticed in books. In this dry season of the year we
have but few clouds, and the sun usually clear; but in setting, it
very often assumes strange and singular appearances. They begin
about the time the lower part of the sun touches the line of the
horizon. The lower part, at times, appears to _flatten up_; the
upper, to _flatten down_; and at times, the sides _flatten in_--so
that the disk of the sun forms nearly a square; it seldom, however,
took this form. More frequently about the time that one-half of
the disk is sunk below the horizon, a portion of the upper part
of the remainder appears to separate from the body of the sun,
and often assumes the form of an inverted cone, or rather that of
a common washbowl, set on the sun, and at times separated from
it by a black mark, of, say an inch in diameter. This crown-like
appearance, at times, is distinctly visible after the disk of the
sun has disappeared; at other times the body of the sun appeared to
be surrounded with a groove and a band, giving it the appearance
of the capital of a pillar. I have seen it again and again, as it
sank under the line of the horizon, flatten down, and spread out
horizontally, until in truth it did not look wider than a large
walking staff, while it appeared nearly a yard in length--the
length of the strip of luminous matter appeared really longer than
the usual apparent width of the disk before it began to take the
new form. But the most singular fact of all remains to be told. We
have several times seen, for it is the most rare appearance, the
sun appear distinctly under the horizon, after the luminous aspect
was wholly gone. It appeared as a dark mass, nearly of the shape of
the sun, but much larger. It seemed under the water, and gradually
to sink deeper and deeper. This sinking of it below the line of
the horizon causes it to appear to approach nearer the spectator.
I saw it on one occasion most distinctly, when the distance of its
upper edge appeared a full yard below the line of the horizon. It
then gradually became fainter and fainter, until it disappeared.
I am not sure that I am philosopher enough to account for these
strange appearances. They do not appear every night; and seldom
for two nights together are the forms the same. The general cause,
I suppose, is the peculiar state of the body of air through which
the rays of light from the setting sun reach us on the mountain.
We are in a high, pure, and elastic atmosphere. At the foot of
the mountain, and the plains on to Beyroot, over which the rays
pass, the earth must be greatly heated, and sends up a heated and
rarefied body of air--then, farther on, is the ocean, which must
keep the stratum of air over it cooler. To this I may add, that we
see the sun set over Cyprus. This island lies at the very edge of
our horizon, as seen from Bru-ma-nah; so distant that it is only
at times that we can distinctly see it. Now Cyprus is an island of
considerable size, and not having much growth is greatly heated by
the action of the sun. This may, by the rarefied volume of air which
it presents to the rays of the sun, tend still farther to vary their
course. Thus passing two or three warm and rare, and as many cold
and dense strata, may be the cause of all the variety of phenomena
above described. I leave it however for others to solve the problem.

It will soon be two months since I reached Beyroot, and few things
have struck me more than the uniformity of the weather. There has
not been a drop of rain. There has been scarcely any weather that
we should call cloudy. True, some clouds do at times collect over
the sea, and at times they rest on the mountain, but they are clouds
without rain. They very seldom spread over the face of the heavens,
so as to withhold the light of the sun; they are mostly confined to
one part, and leave the remainder in its usual clearness. I have,
again and again, been reminded of the fact, that one day is almost
precisely like all the others. We have no opportunity to say "this
is a fine day,"--all are fine.

We may suppose that when there is for so long a period no rain,
and when the sun, almost without exception, pours on the earth its
full blaze of light and heat, the air would become very dry. It is
so; but not to an unpleasant degree--at least _I_ am not sensible
of any unpleasant effects from it. Plants and vegetation do, it is
true, feel it--they wither and droop; and those who wish to preserve
them in their freshness and beauty, must resort to the means of
watering them. But, as regards comfortable feeling from the air, I
have found few places that were to be preferred to Mount Lebanon.

The clearness of the air is a most striking characteristic of these
regions. It is most striking, and is manifested in many things. It
is seen in looking at the starry heavens. The stars are numerous,
and the face of the heavens has a clearness in it, that makes the
impression on the mind that we can see further into the deep and
pathless abyss by which our little earth is surrounded than we can
in other countries. It agrees in this with the Italian sky, but
is, I think, still more clear. This clearness of the air is also
manifest in looking at distant objects. They appear much nearer
than they really are. I am almost perpetually struck with this in
looking from Bru-ma-nah down to Beyroot, and the long line of coast
which lies to the north and south. When I stand on some one of
the points of the ridge that runs out towards Beyroot, as I often
do, especially in my evening walks, the town appears so near, and
the bay at such a short distance below me, that I can hardly get
clear of the impression that I could throw a finger-stone into the
bay. The ascent and descent, three or four times repeated, has,
however, given the matter-of-fact proof that it takes nearly four
hours of hard travel to pass the space that lies between Bru-ma-nah
and Beyroot. The air, it is true, is not always equally pure and
transparent; a dulness and obscurity, like that which is often
observable in other countries, at times exist here. The air here
is, I think, at least in the dry season, less liable to it; how
the rainy seasons may affect the air in all these respects, I am
not as yet prepared to say; as I have had no opportunity of making
observations.

But little dew falls at this place; and from all that I saw in
Beyroot, there is but little there, at least in the dry season; I
have not noticed it in the form of drops on the leaves, indeed I
have at this place hardly observed it in the form of dampness; a
slight degree of this is observable in the evening after sunset.
This is our usual hour for walking, and I have observed that our
clothes were a little damp on our return. I was struck, however,
with the fact, that the nights we were encamped at the foot of the
cone of Jebal Sun-neen, there was an abundance of dew. Our tents
were wet; and the grass and vegetation, and even dust of the roads,
bore witness to it. How it happened that there was so much of it
up there, and so little of it down here, I leave for the wise to
decide; possibly the cause may be in the neighbourhood of the
fact, that the heat here and at Beyroot is remarkably uniform. It
varies but few degrees in the twenty-four hours; at our place of
encampment, referred to, the variation was much greater; we had
great heat by day and almost frost at night.

The more usual and valuable produce of the mountains is the silk.
Much of their best ground is planted with the mulberry-tree, the
leaf of which is used for feeding the worms. Not much of the silk
is manufactured here; most of it is exported to Italy, France, and
England.

The principal grain grown here is the barley, and a kind of bearded
wheat that looks much like it. I have not, however, travelled enough
to make observation to much extent. They raise some tobacco--almost
every one here, as you no doubt have heard, smokes--the pipe is
everywhere one of the most common things seen; they have long
handles, usually made of the cherry-tree; the finer kind are nearly
as long as the owner is high, and are tipped with a mouth-piece of
_amber_. They often use a kind of pipe called the nargely, in which
the smoke is drawn through water. Much of their time is spent in
smoking and taking coffee.

I am told that in the plains of the Bokar' or Celo-Syria, a good
deal of Indian corn is grown. I have not seen any of it on the
mountains, nor did I notice it on the plains of Beyroot as I passed
and repassed. The mountains do not raise bread-stuff sufficient for
its own consumption; grain is brought from the plains. They appear
to me, indeed, to live on very little up here; and I have often,
while looking on their simple fare, thought of the poet's lines:

    "Man wants but little here below,
    Nor wants that little long."

Still a people may have too few wants, they may be too indifferent
as to comforts and conveniences; and the absence of these
excitements may lead to idleness and almost complete indifference
towards all things. If it be not good for man to be alone, it is
still worse for him to be idle; and he who in great kindness to man
gave him the woman to be with him, in the same spirit of love gave
him employment--to dress the garden and keep it. The devil, it is
said, finds employment for idle people; and, even if that were not
his peculiar business, the idleness of many must, I should think,
put a sore temptation in the devil's way, to give them something to
do. I have often heard the devil charged with tempting people, but I
am inclined to think, that the temptation is not all on one side; I
suspect that people often tempt the devil. Had our first mother Eve
been attending to her domestic matters as she ought; or, in company
with her goodman, been helping to take care of the garden, she
would probably have escaped the evil into which she fell.

But to return from this digression. The people of these mountains
are greatly given to idleness; it may result, in part, from the
kind of culture they pursue. The silkworm can employ but little of
their time, and much of the remainder is unemployed. It would be
better for them were they employed more constantly. The pasha, it
is true, gives many of them employment in connexion with working
the coal-mines, and taking coal to Beyroot; and, while there may be
hardship in the manner in which he presses them, with their mules
and donkeys, into the service, I am not sure that in a more enlarged
view of things it may not be to their advantage; were companies of
the idlers kept at work constantly in making roads on the mountains,
and keeping those made in good repair, the benefit to the whole
region would be great indeed. But all improvements travel very
slowly in these ends of the earth.

I have long since read of the big-tailed sheep, but do not recollect
seeing any until I reached this place. The sheep is about the usual
size. On the rump and around the root of the tail, there is a large
mass of soft loose flesh or fat, which appears to be but loosely
connected with the body, except as kept in connexion with it by the
skin. It hangs loose, and shakes about like the udder of a good
milch cow, and altogether has a very singular appearance. I have
not often, if at all, seen flocks of sheep on these mountains. The
goats are often seen in flocks with their keeper, but the sheep are
usually seen singly, or but two or three together, having a string
about their necks, by which they are fastened when at the house, and
led and managed when out at pasture. We may see them led about in
the gardens and vineyards, and out on the mountain side, where a
tuft of grass is to be found; a boy or girl is usually in attendance
upon each sheep. In the evening, I have often seen them bringing
the sheep to the springs and pools of water, and pour the water
plentifully over them, I suppose to cool them. The sheep appear to
take it very kindly, seemingly accustomed to it.

The goats are much used for their milk. The cow is indeed used, and
possibly its milk is considered the best, but the goat, as the more
thrifty animal, is most easily kept, and suits the spare vegetation
which is found on the mountains. They are seen in considerable
numbers, and some of them have uncommonly long ears, which are of a
speckled whitish colour, and hang down from eight to twelve inches.

The camel is much used here as a beast of burden. It is a tall,
raw-boned, long-legged, and long-necked animal, but of a patient,
quiet spirit. It shares with the donkey and mule the hard service
which the people of these lands exact of their cattle. I have been
surprised to see what masses of timber they carry down from these
mountains on the backs of camels--beams for houses, shipping, and
all sorts of things. I have seen a beam from fifteen to twenty feet
long, and from eight to ten, twelve, or fourteen inches in diameter,
laid on the back of a camel, one end projecting forward before the
head of the animal, and the other reaching far behind, and somehow
fastened with ropes to the huge pack-saddle which he carries. Thus
loaded he is made to pass over roads, which require some fortitude
for a man to ride, and pass up and down descents that are most
fearful for such loads: one driver attends each, who may at the more
dangerous passes take hold of the beam and aid in keeping it steady.
The poor animal usually reaches his place of destination in safety
with his lumber--I say usually, for at times, over-loaded or worn
down with the length of the way, or missing his step, he falls, and
is crushed to death by the merciless load upon his back.

Who has not heard of the scorpion? and yet who has seen one? It was
not until after I reached Beyroot that I saw one, and that occurred
in a way that took me a good deal by surprise. One evening during
our quarantine, the scorpion happening to be mentioned as a reptile
that abounded, I expressed a wish to see one. This was reported to
our guardians. The next morning, soon after I was out of bed, I was
called to the porch, and to my no small surprise, mixed with some
apprehension of danger, I saw one of the guardians having a handful
of them,--literally a handful of scorpions. He may have had from six
to ten of them. They were all small. They are a short reptile--these
were about the size of a common locust; the body short and flat,
with a tail rather longer than the body. The sting is in the tip of
the tail. They strike forward with the tail. They appear rather a
slow, dull animal, and do not appear eager to strike or do mischief.
When held in the hand, they cannot strike, and the pressure of the
hand appears to produce a dull, heavy disposition. The guardian
handled them as he pleased--he took hold of the lower part of the
tail, with a quick motion, and then held them close in his hand,
piled one on the other. They have a way of taking them, I am told,
by putting a stick to them that is covered with bees-wax. The
scorpion strikes his tail in it, it sticks fast, and he is taken.
Their sting produces pain, it is said, but is not often, if ever,
fatal. It is but seldom that persons are stung by them.

And who has not heard of the chameleon, that wonderful animal that
one traveller declared was blue, and another that it was black, and
its owner asserted that it was green, but which, when produced, was
of a different colour from any of those mentioned! The chameleon is
not the only thing which has been made more marvellous by report
than nature made it. It is a lizard, of a size rather larger than
those little four-legged, long-tailed animals, that in the spring
and summer are seen about old fences and trees, nearly the colour
of the moccason snake. The chameleon is, in its usual colour, not
unlike the above-mentioned lizard, rather lighter--more like the
rattlesnake as to colour. It is a perfectly harmless reptile, may
be handled at pleasure. It is rather slow in its motions, and when
you touch it, it will swell and blow at a great rate, but does
nothing else. As its passions are excited by handling, its colour
is in a slight degree changeable, and it may be still more so when
seen in different kinds of light. The change, however, has been
much magnified; and were it not that "as changeable as a chameleon"
has become a proverb, and every one expects something, hundreds of
people might see and handle it, and not observe any change in its
colour. They are often found about houses, and are said to be fond
of flies--what their art of catching them may be, I know not; their
motions appear too slow to make a living in that way.

I had heard, long before coming to Asia, fearful accounts of the
annoyance I must expect from fleas, bed-bugs, and other similar
sorts of gentry; I have as yet only come in contact with the fleas,
and an occasional musquito. But really the number and pertinacity
of the fleas will well make amends for the absence of the other
tribes of annoying insects. I know not to what it may be owing,
but the flea does seem to multiply in a way that is astonishing.
They abound almost everywhere, and it appears to be a matter of
impossibility to get wholly out of their reach. The evil may be
increased by the earthen floor, and the peculiar character of their
houses, and, above all, the unclean habits of the people; and as
all the Frank families have native servants, and are visited a good
deal by the natives, it is not easy for those families to keep
their houses free from the annoyance. I have heard, indeed, a very
significant saying, that the king of the fleas resides at Beyroot,
and his pasha at Jaffa. I suppose it signifies those are the
favourite places with these light-footed gentry.

The fruit season is now coming on, and we have some fine varieties
of fruit brought to market. The district of country a little on
this side of Jaffa, is the place most famed for the water-melon.
There are but few grown on these parts of the mountain. I have seen
but few vines, and these bore a small and inferior kind. But the
quantities that come from the vicinity of Jaffa are very great;
vessels arrive at Beyroot almost daily with them. They are sold for
a mere trifle. They are carried all through these mountains, and are
a very fine fruit of the kind.

I have never seen the plum any where to be compared with those here.
They grow, however, near Damascus. That place is famed for fruit of
various kinds, and great quantities of it are brought to Beyroot,
and other towns on the coast. At this time of the year, when the
fruit is ripe, it is a considerable business to carry fruit and
supply the market. The plum to which I refer is nearly as large as a
hen's egg, and has a fine rich pulp. It is of a deep red colour, and
does credit to the land where it grows.

The apricot abounds at Damascus; and they are brought in large
parcels for the supply of this market. It is a fine fruit. I have
not seen many growing on this part of the mountain, nor have I seen
the apple or the peach growing in very large quantities. The best
used here are brought from Damascus. I have not seen any apples to
be compared with our best; the apple season, however, is not yet
come.

The grape grows well, and there are some fine vineyards. The grape
that abounds most, as far as I have observed, is a large white
grape. The single grape is often nearly as large as a partridge's
egg. The branches contain a noble collection of these grapes, and
more than once the large size of the bunch has made me think of the
cluster which the spies took from Eshcol, as a sample of the fruit
of the land. Some wine is made on these mountains, and of a very
good kind, as is said, for I have not so far forgotten my temperance
habits as to use, unless very occasionally, and under peculiar
circumstances, the wines of any of the countries through which
I pass. The wines, I am told, are peculiarly free from alcohol,
and have, if any, but a very small portion of the intoxicating
principle. They are not so strong as the well-made cider of the
middle States.

These mountaineers have a peculiar way of baking bread. They dig
a hole in the ground, about the size of a large bottle--put a
thick coat of plaster around the side and on the bottom, and then
let it dry. It is very much in the shape of a large pot, a little
bulging in the middle. A fire is made in the bottom of it, of small
branches, and kept up until the sides are well heated; the flames
are then suffered to go down, leaving the mass of coals in the
bottom. They have the dough ready, and take a piece of it, about as
large as a biscuit, and laying it on a board, press it out as large
as a common-sized plate, and nearly as thin as the blade of a thick
knife. They place it on a round pillow or cushion, (it is so thin
it cannot be handled otherwise,) and strike it against the inside of
this potlike place. It sticks, and in about one minute is baked. It
is then taken off, and another put on. There are, usually, several
women engaged at it at the same time, and they put them on with
great quickness. You may see three or four of these wafer-like cakes
sticking round the tan-moor, as it is called, at the same time, and
changed for others every minute. They soon bake bread for a meal.




LETTER VI.


  _Beyroot, August 26th, 1836._

I have just returned from a tour to Damascus, Baalbec, and the
far-famed Cedars of Lebanon, and will attempt a brief account of
these places, and my adventures by the way.

I had the company of Mr. B----, Angelo to cook for us, and a
muleteer, who took care of our mules, and who ought to have been our
guide, but who, on trial, was found not to know the way himself--a
state of things not uncommon in this country--and did it not
extend to higher matters than to find the road from one place to
another, it would not be so bad; but from all I see and hear, it is
most dolefully the case in the great matter of finding the way to
everlasting life. Guides there are many in religion, but few, if
any, understand the way of salvation through our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ. It is, indeed, astonishing how far the great mass of
those who in these regions call themselves Christians, have sunk
in darkness and ignorance respecting the most plain and leading
principles of the word of God. The priests are "blind leaders of the
blind."

As we set out for Damascus, from Bru-ma-nah on the mountain, we
did not follow the usual road to Damascus from Beyroot, but took
a more direct route. We made for the lower part of Mount Lebanon,
between the Sun-neen and Jebal Knee-se. I had before passed over
part of this, on my tour to the Sun-neen, some account of which I
have already given you. Part of our way, however, before reaching
the top, was new, but did not differ much from what I had before
seen. We passed a considerable village, where the Jesuits are said
to have a school. It is in a lovely, romantic spot, and near a most
tremendous precipice.

The descent from the top to the plain is much greater than I
supposed, when on the top. It took us above two hours to reach
Zahle, which stands on the lower part of the mountain, and at some
distance above the level of the plain. The side of the Lebanon
next the plain is not quite as rough and rocky as the other; in
other respects it does not essentially differ. The cultivation may
possibly extend farther up--the rock more disintegrated, and the
strata not as distinctly marked,--the general course of the ridge
was more regular and uniform. The road, as we approached Zahle, was
better than any I have seen on the mountains--it passed through a
considerable extent of vineyards, and labour had been expended upon
it--it was very passable, a rare thing in these parts.

A little above Zahle, and in and near it, a number of fine springs
arose, and their effect on the vegetation was most striking; while
the whole face of the mountain presented a most dry and parched
aspect, with only here and there a bush to be seen, the heads of the
little hollows about Zahle--a small district near the town, and a
narrow slip along the waters, widening as it approached the plain,
were rich in verdure, and abounded with the Lombardy poplar, the
willow, the white walnut, and a variety of fruit-trees. You could
trace most clearly where there was water by the vegetation which
there covered the ground. Yea, you could point out most distinctly
where the water was carried along the hill sides, in trenches, by
the verdure which covered the whole district below, while all above
was almost destitute of vegetation. The rising of water above and
near the town, being very considerable, and being carried along the
hill sides, and extensively used in irrigation, a larger district
about this town was covered with trees, and bore more marks of
productiveness than any I have seen in these quarters. A little
below the town were some mills on this water-course, and many lovely
gardens lay on all sides. The town Zahle contains from eight hundred
to one thousand houses. They are crowded together, with narrow,
crooked streets; and, like all other towns in this land, it has
no claim to cleanliness. Judging from what I saw, the houses are
universally built of unburned brick, made with a good deal of _short
straw_ mixed with them, no doubt to prevent them from breaking to
pieces. The houses are of one story, have flat roofs, where people
are often seen walking or lounging, and on which various things are
deposited.

It being about sundown when we entered the town, we made some
inquiries for lodging. There are usually in the towns, and
occasionally on the roads, houses built for the accommodation
of travellers, called khans. They have rooms, but are entirely
unfurnished, and the traveller is expected to provide for himself.
They are beginning to keep, at some of them, the more necessary
articles of food for man and beast, which the traveller may obtain
at a reasonable price. Having, in some of my former tours, been
greatly annoyed with _fleas_, and knowing these khans are the
very _head-quarters_ of such gentry, we were rather on the watch,
and made inquiry before alighting, whether they had any fleas in
their establishment? They assured us that they had "a _plenty_!
_plenty!_" We declined stopping, and passed on amidst the laugh
of the bystanders. It began, however, to grow dark about the time
we got out of the town, and after passing down the stream, among
the gardens, for some time, and not finding a place that offered a
good encampment, we were constrained to put up at a house on the
road side, and sleep in a kind of open court. We found, to our
discomfort, that we had not much mended the matter. We were most
grievously beset with fleas, which were as greedy as if it was the
first Frank blood they had tasted, and feared it might be the last.

We found in the morning that we were in the immediate neighbourhood
of a considerable body of the pasha's troops. Their parade-ground
was over against us; arranged along one side I counted thirty-six
cannon drawn up, and as we passed, we saw a considerable number of
artillery-men, five or six in a company, manoeuvring, each under the
direction of an individual. Several of these groups had a _little
carriage_, not more than a foot long, a perfect toy, with a string
to it, and were drawing it about and manoeuvring it in place of the
cannon. It was laughable to see five or eight great awkward fellows
pulling about a little toy, like a waggon, which a baby could have
thrown about at pleasure. This is the Egyptian version of European
tactics.

There was near this place, which was on the edge of the plain, a
most noble threshing-floor. It was a large space of several acres,
and there may have been from a dozen to twenty floors, without
any partition between them. On some of them people were employed
in threshing grain, others separating the straw and chaff from the
wheat; on others lay great piles of grain, some clean, and others
mixed with the chaff and straw. They separate the wheat by throwing
it up and letting the wind blow the chaff away. Of course they must
wait for a wind. I saw no instrument to make wind. The threshing
instrument is a board, about three feet in width, and six or eight
feet in length; at the fore end it is turned up, a little like a
sleigh. The board is about three inches in thickness. On the under
side many holes are cut in it, from an inch and a half to two
inches, and in these are fastened pieces of stone, flint, or iron;
these project nearly an inch from the face of the board and serve as
teeth, to tear the heads of the grain in pieces. Oxen are fastened
to the front of these boards, and driven round the floor, drawing
this instrument after them. The driver of the oxen usually sits or
stands on the instrument. This is the common threshing-machine in
these countries. I see it everywhere--and I have seen no other. It
would seem that it is the same instrument that was used in the days
of the prophet, who speaks of a "new threshing instrument having
teeth." The oxen are usually without muzzles, and often, as they
pass round, take up a few straws and feed on them. "Thou shalt not
muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn." I do not recollect of
ever seeing the horse used on the floor--the oxen very often.

As we passed the threshing floor, in and around which were many
cattle, I could not but notice a fact of which I had often heard and
read, but had not before seen--the collecting the manure that fell
from the cattle and preparing it for fuel. A female was employed in
collecting it with her hands, working it into balls, and sticking
it in flat cakes against the walls of the houses to dry--when dry,
it was collected in piles and laid on the house-tops, or made in
little stacks in the yard. When well dried it burns very well, and
will make a fire sufficient to boil coffee. On some occasions,
during our tour, we were glad to get it, and found it did very well.
This throws light on a passage in Jeremiah, where he is directed
to prepare his food with fire made of human excrement--the prophet
entreated, and was allowed to take cows' dung. This is a common kind
of fuel in many parts of this country. The prophet was only directed
to do as his people generally did.

Our course took us directly across the celebrated plain of
Celo-Syria. It is nearly a dead level--we were about two hours and a
half in crossing it, which, at three miles an hour, the usual rate
of travelling on mules, will make it about eight miles wide. This
is less than I stated in a former letter. I mentioned then what a
gentleman who had crossed it gave as its supposed width. I now give
what _I_ found it to be. It may, however, vary in width at different
places, and no doubt does. There are very few trees on the plain.
Near the villages, and there are usually several in sight, some
trees may be seen, and at a few of the villages are considerable
groves of them. As regards the great body of the plain, not a tree
or a bush is to be seen--not a fence--not a hedge--not a house,
except at the few villages.

On the plain, where we crossed, there was a little water. The stream
which flowed in from Zahle is parted and carried into the plain,
and used in irrigation; and it would seem nearly if not wholly
exhausted in this way. Near the farther side of the plain, we
passed several channels that contained water, but the amount was
not great. The water had but a slow, dull current, and the ground
being soft, we had a little difficulty in crossing, as we feared
swamping. There appears to be a stream of water entering the plain
from the Anti-Lebanon, a few miles north-east of Zahle; for on that
side of the plain we found most water; and when we entered the plain
on our return from Damascus, which was half a day's journey to the
north-east, we saw scarcely any water, except this stream passing
in--south-west. The channel shows that more water flows in at times,
but it is never more than a small stream--never deserves the name of
a river.

Much of the plain appeared to have been cultivated with small grain.
It was now gathered about the threshing-floors, several of which
were seen in different directions. I saw also several lots of Indian
corn, and a field that looked almost precisely like what with us is
called broom-corn. It is, I believe, the millet, here called durah.
The corn was a most diminutive kind, and the same is the case with
all the corn I have seen in the East. It was beginning to tassel and
silk, and yet its general height was not above four feet; with us
such a field of corn would not be thought worth anything. It was, I
believe, of the usual size and promise.

We passed several fields of the castor-oil plant, and were informed,
on inquiry, that they extract the oil from it. It did not seem to
grow as well as I have seen it in other countries.

We saw several encampments of Bedouins on the plain. Their tents are
said to be made of goats' hair. They are black--"black as the tents
of Kedar," thought I. There were many flocks of sheep and goats
about their tents. The Bedouins look almost as black as their tents.
They are a dirty-looking set. We spoke to several of them, and
tried to get a drink of milk. They, however, were so indifferent and
slow, and showed so little inclination to serve us, that we passed
on. I noticed before one of their tents, a huge skin, suspended on
forks. It either had been taken off the animal nearly whole, or had
been sewed up. It was full of milk, which they were shaking, and
thus churning it, making butter, or something of that sort. I did
not much envy the eaters of it--but every man to his liking.

The whole plain lay open; and as far as we could see, without any
landmarks to point out the special property-rights, which particular
persons may have to parts of it. There are no fences, nor hedges,
nor even ditches, for the purpose of designating property. There
are, it is true, channels cut in different directions through the
plain for the purpose of irrigation; but only for that purpose. The
flocks that wander over the plain, are under the care of keepers;
whose business it is not to allow them to commit trespass on spots
under cultivation; except there, the flocks go pretty much where
they please, and eat whatever they can find; and really they appear
to have a poor chance to find much; the above spots excepted.

The Anti-Lebanon lies on the south-east side of this plain; and is
very much such a mountain as Lebanon. It is, perhaps, as a general
thing, not quite so high. Still, to the south of us it attains to
a great elevation, and its upper part in that direction has much
snow upon it. These two mountains, the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon,
are nearly of the same appearance; and are nearly parallel to each
other, having between them the plain, nearly level, of an average
width of from six to ten miles, in the part that I have seen. Our
road, which was but a path for mules and donkeys, led us directly
up the mountain, winding and crossing a hollow, that ran up to the
top. The ascent was steep and fatiguing, and took us about three
hours. There were a few thin bushes, and as we got up into the
mountain we found a good many oak-trees--a few of them of the size
of a small apple-tree, but most of them were only six or eight
feet high. As we approached the top, these were discontinued; and
over the whole of the upper part of the mountain, there was almost
a total want of vegetation. A few stunted thistles and bunches of
furze were almost the only vegetable growth to be seen.

On the top of the Anti-Lebanon, where we crossed, there was a
general level of four or five miles. Possibly this may not be a fair
sample of the width of the mountain, as we may have passed over
an unusually wide place. As far, however, as we could see, there
appeared to be a wider flat on the top than any I had seen on the
Lebanon. The rock, as far as I observed, was wholly limestone. It is
all of the secondary formation, and appears to be of a softer kind
than that which composes the great mass of the Lebanon. It is much
more affected by the action of the weather, and is greatly broken
into fine pieces: this is the case on the top; we often passed over
beds of fine broken stone almost like gravel. The stratum, from the
yielding character of the rock, was not so clearly to be traced as
on the Lebanon. At some places, however, it could be seen; and the
general position of the stratum approached the horizontal. There
were, however, many deviations from it: I noticed several small
locations which had the dip to a very considerable degree. This was
especially the case in some small elevations, or secondary hills,
next the plain.

We had a pretty long, and part of the way a rough, descent to
the narrow and beautiful valley of the Bareda. The rock, as we
descended, retained much of the character which it had on the
top. There was, in places, much rock on the surface; tremendous
precipices; piles of rock heaped on each other, as if mountains of
earth had been washed away and all the rock left.

In the plain, at the point where we reached it, is the town of
Zebdane. It is near the head of the plain, and is well watered by
the upper springs of the river Bareda, or Bariade, as it is at
times spelled on maps. The town has several hundred houses, mostly
inhabited by Mohammedans. The waters are here taken out of the bed
of the river, and spread over the plain. There is quite a grove
of trees in and near the village. The houses are not so crowded
together as we often find them in other villages; many of them have
gardens, which are filled with trees--the mulberry, poplar, willow,
hickory, apple, plum, and other fruit-trees. Much of the town is,
indeed, well furnished with shade; and is a most lovely spot, in the
midst of a dry, parched land.

After six hours' exposure to the burning sun, the cool shades
of Zebdane, its flowing waters and rich gardens had powerful
inducements to stop us. In truth, we needed both rest and
refreshment. We had set out early from Zahle, that we might cross
the plain, and ascend the mountain before the heat of the day set
in, intending to breakfast on or near the top of Anti-Lebanon; but
when we reached the summit we found no water, and our muleteers had
neglected to fill our leathern bags. There was no alternative but to
go on. The burning sun on the top, added to the fatigue, made us all
suffer for water; but none was found until we were close to Zebdane.
When about to begin our descent, however, we met several muleteers
with mules loaded with fruit, which they were carrying probably
to Beyroot or Tripoli: in the fruit season, much fruit is brought
from Damascus to Beyroot, Tripoli, and other places on the coast.
Supposing that the mules had fruit in their packs, I was casting in
my mind how we could induce them to let us have some, especially for
quenching our thirst, when the foremost muleteer, while yet eight or
ten yards from me, put his hand into his bosom, took out a handful
of apples, and, with a kind salutation, handed them to me. I know
not that the apples were better than usual, but I know that I have
seldom eaten apples with a finer relish; they were most refreshing.
Feeling much in need of our breakfast and rest, we passed through a
part of Zebdane, hoping that we could find a cool and comfortable
place for both these purposes. We wished, in short, to get into
some one of the gardens, and under its trees loaded with fruit, and
near the cool streams of water we saw flowing through them, take
our rest; but no one invited us in; and to one or two applications
we received a refusal. We stopped under a large tree in the street,
and were about spreading our carpet, when a very good-looking female
came out of a garden near us, and very kindly invited us in.

A stream of water ran through her garden; near it was a small fire,
and preparations for washing. She had been washing clothes. A young
female, whom I took to be her daughter, and a little boy, her son,
were with her. Although her clothes were rather soiled, they were
of a texture that indicated wealth: both she and her daughter wore
rich ornaments. The daughter had a clasp of silver on each arm, of
an inch and a half in width; and two of gold, about three quarters
of an inch wide; with rich ear-rings, &c. Their manners had the ease
and frankness of well-bred persons who have been much in company.
They pointed out to us a good place to spread our carpets, gathered
us some fruit, and sat down near us, and conversed pleasantly and
cheerfully. They spoke of our clothes in a complimentary manner;
said they would be very pretty, were it not that our pantaloons
were too tight. This last was a hit at me mainly, as my companion,
Mr. B., had on the _Persian_ pantaloons, which are of most ample
dimensions. It was said with great good-humour, and even a little
apparent blushing, by the good ladies. Mr. B., who acted as
interpreter, enjoyed the laugh at my expense not a little. I felt
half inclined to retaliate on them--that even tight pantaloons
were more modest than absolutely naked breasts. But Mr. B. was not
inclined to interpret it for me, and, on second thought, I let it
pass. Fashion is an odd thing! My pantaloons were of the ordinary
size--what, indeed, many would call large; yet they were not thought
modest by these good, oriental ladies, as showing too plainly the
shape of the lower parts of the body; while _they themselves_ had
their breasts almost wholly exposed! Such is the fashion of the
ladies here. Indeed, I have often been not a little provoked at the
exposure which females here make of the upper parts of their bodies:
they cover their faces, and expose their breasts. But thus it is
in the East, or in this part of it; and fashion has its influence
here as well as in the western world. If there be no disputing about
taste, there may be some little about fashion.

When our breakfast was ready, we had quite a company of people to
see us eat. We gave them but a poor sample of Frank manners, as
from necessity we had to eat _à-la-turque_, at least in part. They
were much interested with the looks of our loaf of white sugar, and
we had various applications for small pieces. But as it was a fast
with them--that is among the Greeks, and our visiters were mostly
of that church--they did not eat the sugar we gave them, but laid
it away until the fast should be over. The same took place with
some sweet-bread we gave them. They would not let the little boy I
mentioned eat what I gave him, but took it from him to keep until
the season of fasting was over. I doubt whether he will ever get all
of it.

The valley in which Zebdane is situate may be on an average from
three quarters to a mile wide; there are several other villages
in it; and it extends five or six miles in length. Its general
direction is from north-east to south-west, nearly parallel to the
plain of the Bokar. The parts of this plain that are irrigated by
the waters of the Bareda, and the several springs that rise along
the foot of the mountains, appear productive, and are covered with
vegetation, and a space for a mile below the town is covered with
gardens and trees of various kinds. The remainder has rather a
sterile and naked appearance. The mountain that lies south-east,
has especially the most utterly barren aspect of any district that
I have ever seen. Above the little green spots, that along its
foot mark the places where water rises, there is hardly a trace of
vegetation to be seen, all a naked, sun-burnt surface, desolation
could hardly be more desolate.

The gardens about Zebdane are almost universally inclosed with
well-made hedges. The thorn is much used for this purpose. They are
plaited together in such a way as to make a most ample defence. They
have gates, which have also a kind of fastening, and are thus made
very secure. They are the best hedges I have seen in the East. A
similar protection, I observed, was in some degree extended to the
fields of Indian corn, the castor oil plant, and other spots under
cultivation.

We had a fine sample of irrigation here. The corn fields are from
time to time covered with water. It is let in upon a field, and
runs until the ground is well saturated, then turned off to another
field, which, in its turn, gives place to another; and thus the
water is transferred from field to field, and garden to garden, to
the no small benefit of the trees, and vegetation of all kinds.
Nothing can thrive in these lands without being from time to time
thus watered. The righteous man is well compared to a "tree planted
by the rivers of waters." It is eastern imagery, to the life. About
4 P. M. we left the garden, and took leave of the good lady who had
received us with so much kindness. We made her a small present,
which she very thankfully received, and intimated that at our return
we might enjoy again the accommodation of her garden.

A little more than an hour brought us to the end of the plain, where
the Bareda turns short to the east, and passes by a narrow and deep
defile, through the mountain. The road follows the stream. The
whole mountain, as seen on both sides of the pass, is of a peculiar
character. The stratum of the rock is very irregular; at places it
has the dip, but with much irregularity. The rock is limestone,
of a very soft, yielding kind, and breaks to pieces readily from
the action of the atmosphere. Much of it is a very coarse kind of
breccia--appears to have been broken into small pieces, and again
combined with a soft cement. Some of the pieces seem to have been
subjected to the action of water, while in a separate state. But a
great deal of the mountain has all the appearance of an immense mass
of marl, and much of it is in a very soft state, so as to be easily
reduced to a fine white dust. In some places the road is worn or cut
ten, fifteen, or perhaps twenty feet, down through this marl-like
rock.

There are at some parts of the pass considerable precipices of rock
on one or both sides, and on the face of some of these rocks and at
a considerable height from the ground we saw the entrances of tombs.
It must have been difficult to cut such holes in the face of the
rock at such a height. Near the end of the pass we crossed a good
arched stone bridge, and soon found the valley beginning to open.
The character of the rock continued the same, and the whole face
of the country was peculiarly barren, except a narrow strip along
the river. The waters of the river, even in the mountains, were
taken out of its bed, wherever it could be done, and made to water
a little space on both sides, which space was more or less covered
with trees. We saw indeed in two places, channels cut across the
face of the rock above the road, which I am of opinion was for the
purpose of carrying the water thus high, that on clearing the pass,
it might be used for watering a wide space of country on the eastern
side. If this was the case, the neglect of modern times has let go
to ruin what may formerly have given fertility to a wide district
east of the mountain, now almost utterly barren. Many things have
fallen back greatly in this country. As the valley opened below the
pass, the water was taken out, and made to keep nearly a horizontal
course, along both sides of the channel, and used to water all the
district between it and the former bed, and on this district were
fields, corn, vines, fruit-trees, poplars, willows, and grass for
the flocks of sheep and goats, and other domestic animals.

We passed one or two small villages, and night began to set in.
After looking in vain for the cover of a good tree, in such a
situation as we wished, we spread our carpets on a little elevation
about fifty yards from a small village, and made our beds for the
night. A few of the villagers came to look at us; but they did not
seem to have as much curiosity or politeness as our good friends at
Zebdane. They were rather a shabby set.

About the time we had finished our supper and were going to bed,
some cause of dissatisfaction among the villagers, or a family
quarrel, took place; and for a short time there was a terrible
strife of tongues. It died away in part, and I hoped was about to
terminate; but was revived or continued mainly between one man and
woman, as the voices indicated; and such a scold I have seldom
heard. The woman appeared manifestly to have the advantage. Her
tongue was like a sharp sword. It must have been used before, or
it could not have been wielded with such terrible power on the
present occasion. I thought of the old saying, that "the tongue is
the only instrument that grows sharper and sharper by daily use."
The adversary, whether neighbour, or brother, or husband, I know
not, but suspect it was the latter, appeared to feel that he had a
losing case. He yielded, lowered his tone, let her do two-thirds,
three-fourths, and, towards the last, a still larger portion of the
talking. Such a storm could not last always, it gradually passed
away and the voices became silent. How many such storms daily take
place on earth! but not one in heaven, no, not one!

It was a Mohammedan village, and this probably a Mohammedan wife,
maintaining her rights against an unkind or petulant husband.
Verily, we of the western world are far from the truth in the
judgments we form about the domestic manners and intercourse of the
Mohammedans, and especially their mode of treating their wives. We
not only take it for granted that the Mohammedans believe their
women have no souls, (which is not true,) but we suppose they have
no rights, no privileges, and dare hardly look at their lords, much
less speak to them, under fear of losing their heads. Now, all this
is wide of the mark. The Mohammedan ladies have their rights, as
well as our own fair ones, and know how to stand up for them--and
the female tongue is fully as powerful an instrument in the East as
it is in the West. Judging from what I used to hear when a boy about
the Mohammedans, I should have expected to have seen this _fair
one_ put in a sack and thrown in the river, or, as water is rather
scarce here to be used for drowning _scolds_, I should at least have
expected to have seen her head cut off, and her tongue nailed up
in terror to others. But it was plain that the good lady was in no
fear of such treatment; and the good people of the village, instead
of coming to the relief of the man, were glad to keep out of harm's
way; and the ruler of the town, if it had any, knew better than
to intermeddle with other people's matters; and the man himself
received a lesson which I hope may do him more good than it did me.

"On that night could not the king sleep!" And so it was with me.
Whether it was owing to the train of thinking which the strife of
tongues occasioned; or whether that Angelo had made my tea too
strong, which he is almost sure to do, for I can't get the notion
out of his head that the stronger and the richer his dishes are,
so much the better; or whether other and unknown causes tended to
chase sleep from my eyes, I know not; but so it was, I could not
sleep. And really it was worth remaining awake to look on the face
of such a sky. We lay on the summit of a little hill; not a bush or
a green leaf near us. We had a fair horizon, and one of the clearest
skies that I ever saw. It seemed that I could see farther than usual
into the deep abyss, over which the stars are scattered in wild,
irregular, but beautiful confusion. I do not wonder that astronomy
began in the East, and, admitting the very strong and general
tendency of mankind to idolatry, I the less wonder that, in this
eastern world, with such heavens nightly spread over them, there
should have been so strong a tendency to the worship of the host of
heaven. It has much more show of reason than the worship of stocks
and stones, the work of men's hands.

When we arose in the morning, there was a scarcely perceivable
dampness on our bedding; but the dust in the road was not laid.
The case was, however, different on our return. We slept out near
Zebdane, and not far from a district irrigated by the waters of the
Bareda. Then our bedding was wet, and we all felt chilly. The dew
was most copious. This was no doubt owing to the low situation,
and its vicinity to a large district over which the water had been
thrown. It was also near the trees and gardens which for a mile or
two cover the plain.

We had about four hours' ride from our place of lodging to Damascus.
Our course was south-east, and, for the most part, we followed
the course of the Bareda. This stream runs in a channel depressed
below the general level of the country. The country indeed rises
into hills, and small mountains, all of which, without exception,
are wholly destitute of trees. Indeed, it is rare to see a bush on
them under which a lamb could be shaded. There are a few stunted
thistles, and furze, and an occasional tuft of grass. I have often
noticed the fact, that the thistles, a small stunted thorn, and the
furze, which has on it many prickles of a thorn-like character,
are more uniformly to be found than any other plants. "Thorns and
thistles shall it bring forth to thee." It is even so in these
eastern regions. They grow where nothing else will, but some places
are too bad for them.

The rock through this whole district is of a soft, friable nature.
Much of it has that puddingstone appearance, which I mentioned as
abounding in the mountain through which we had just passed. I was
inclined to think it that kind of limestone called aolite. Many
of the hills were so white, and washed so easily, that I doubted
whether they did not belong to the chalk formation. They reminded
me of the chalk cliffs of Dover, and the general appearance of the
chalk formation as seen near Dover.

When near the top of the last high range of hills, near Damascus, we
had, on looking back, the most striking view of a naked and barren
district that I ever saw. The whole range of country, up to the top
of the mountain through which we passed on leaving Zebdane, and
far to the north and south, was in full view; a range of fifteen
or twenty miles in diameter, perhaps much more; and, except the
little green strip that at some points could be seen along the river
Bareda, there appeared to be neither tree nor bush, nor any green
thing. I called Mr. B----'s attention to it, and asked him if he
could point out, with the exception just made, one green thing--tree
or bush. He could not. As the river runs in a deep channel, and the
trees along it are small, it was only at a few places that their
tops could be seen. A more dry, parched, desolate landscape I never
saw.

Our approach to Damascus was from the north-west. The general course
of the plain on which it stands is north-east and south-west. The
northern part, near Damascus, is bounded by a high, steep, and
precipitous mountain; the suburbs and gardens of the city extending
close to its foot. It was not until we had reached the top of this
range of mountains, from which the whole region we had passed over
for the last five or six hours rose to view, that we saw on the
other side, along the middle of a most noble plain, a wide district
covered with verdure, fields, gardens, and a forest of trees,
extending eastward towards the Bahr-el-Mrdj or Sea of Meadows, as
far as the eye could reach. In the midst of this, encircled with
gardens for miles around, rose the old, the famous city of Damascus,
with its many gilded domes glittering in the sun. The sight was
most delightful and refreshing; and the more so from the absolute
barrenness and desolation by which it was surrounded.

Damascus is a walled town; but on some sides the town has spread far
beyond the walls, and forms extensive suburbs. The north-west side,
through which we passed on entering the city, and in which most
of the Franks live, is thought to contain, if I recollect aright,
nearly twenty thousand people. This, however, is the most populous
part. The walls have once been of great strength, and were defended
on many parts, if not entirely around, by a deep foss and rows of
towers. They are now much out of repair. The gates are falling to
pieces, or approaching that state. The foss is much filled up at
many places, and the towers have lost their beauty and strength, and
possibly in great part their use--_sic transit gloria mundi_.

The streets are narrow, crooked, and miserably dirty. But little
effort is made to remove filth and produce cleanliness. In truth,
throughout this whole eastern world, the people appear to have very
low ideas of neatness and cleanliness. While the city abounds with
water, and a fountain of it is seen in most of the good houses, you
meet with filth everywhere, and are often most grievously annoyed
with the stench of dead animals in the roads and streets. Some of
the streets are paved, but in a very indifferent way, and from the
great accumulation of dust they are not in a comfortable condition
for passing over. Some allowances, however, must be made for this
abundance of dust in streets, roads, and open places, and even in
the houses. It is now nearly three months since I reached Beyroot,
and not one drop of rain has fallen--the sun has not, with the
exception of a few hours, been so covered with clouds as to be hid
from sight--most of the days it has, without ceasing, poured its
burning rays upon the earth. What marvel if the earth be _roasted_,
and except when water abounds, be converted into dust! The roads are
indeed dusty to a most uncomfortable degree. So are the streets--and
we need not be surprised if the dust should find its way into
courts, parlours, and even bed-rooms. One of the main streets,
called Straight, is shown as the one in which Paul was found by
Ananias. I did not find a full agreement about its name, some saying
it was so called, and others that this was its usual name. Different
names, it would seem, are given to different parts of it.

Most of the houses, when seen from the street, have an old and very
shabby appearance. Many of them are made up of patch-work--mud,
wood, and stone. The mud, however, as the cheapest article, is
most abundant. Occasionally, you may see the lower part of the
building of good hewn marble,--which soon gives place to a miserable
patch-work kind of half stucco and half mortar. The door-frames are
very often found of hewn stone, and sometimes arched, and this may
be the only stone that you see in the building.

The precise number of mosques in Damascus I did not, while with
those who could have informed me, think of asking. As I left the
city, however, and ascended the mountain, which gives such a fine
view of it, I made an attempt to count the minarets. I made about
thirty; and possibly this may be an approximation to the true number.

While under the guidance of the man who showed us the house of
Ananias, and the window through which Paul made his escape, we were
taken to see several other things, especially some graves, which
were not far from the gate. In one of the large vaults, which was
in part open, we could see the skeletons of various persons--their
winding-sheets in part rotted off--the flesh all gone, and the whole
exhibiting a spectacle most humbling to human nature. In health
man is the most beautiful of animals, and in corruption the most
loathsome. But death will lose its victory through Christ, to the
believer. We were also taken to the grave of the gate-keeper, who
ought to have known how Paul made his escape, but did not. While he
watched the gate, Paul, it would seem, by the help of some friends,
escaped by the window. The poor gate-keeper knew and of course could
tell nothing about the matter. But that very ignorance, as it was
with the soldiers who kept Peter, was brought in charge against him.
He ought to have known, and was put to death for not knowing. The
gate-keeper, however, has fared rather better than the soldiers.
Posterity has sainted him--has erected a neat tomb over him--put a
paling around, and a cover over it. It is considered as a sacred
place, and little offerings are deposited within the paling. I saw
some pieces of money that were placed on the tomb. I had often
heard, that with the papists, ignorance was the mother of devotion,
but here it was the cause of saintship. When will the measure of
folly, under the name of religion, have come to its full?

Bad as the falsely so-called Christian saints may be, they are not
so shameless as the living saints, which are at times seen--the
Mohammedan, men who have been to Mecca, and set themselves up to
be saints, are often seen here. I did not happen to see one at
Damascus, but saw one in Beyroot, who passed about the streets
and bazaars in a state of perfect nudity. With the most perfect
shamelessness, they will pass among females, and even enter the
houses and apartments of females, without so much as a fig leaf to
cover their nakedness. Their supposed holiness gives them great
consequence; and at times and places of peculiar sanctity, at
special processions and in the mosques, they put themselves forward
and take the most honoured place. Poor human nature! how low it can
and will come down, where grace does not prevent.

There are, just outside the walls of Damascus, some mills, that
looked better than any of the buildings of the sort I have seen in
the East. They stand on the main channel of the river, and avail
themselves of its waters to work their machinery. The bread of
Damascus is, for the East, good.

One of our longest walks was in the after part of the day, along the
river, and among the gardens and shady trees which line its borders:
I could not but notice how the people were walking, sitting, or
lying along the side of the stream, and how they appeared to enjoy
its refreshing coolness. They were "beside the still waters." Near
the eastern side of the city I was much interested in meeting with a
field of hemp. It was just beginning to blossom. It was the first,
and I may add, the only field of hemp I have seen in the East.

Most of the houses have balconies, or places projecting out on the
front, having windows at the three sides. They serve the double
purpose of giving access to the air, and enabling the people to
see what is going on in the streets. These are more or less common
as fixtures in houses, all through this eastern world. The greater
part of them have also courts that are open to the heavens; these
in several of the best houses that I have visited were paved with
marble, and had noble fountains of water in the centre. Some have
more than one fountain; and the house in which I lodged had one
perpetually flowing in the room in which I slept. There is water
enough to keep their houses and persons clean, would the people but
use it.

I was struck with the great contrast between the outside of the
houses and the appearance within. Without all looked old, rusty, and
ready to fall to pieces; but within there was often a richness and
beauty in the marble pavements, the gilded ceiling, and fanciful
carvings, that was striking. To what this may be owing I know not.
Possibly, in part to avoid the oppressive exactions which all
through these lands is apt to follow the track of wealth, or the
outward show of it.

Noticing that the roofs and upper parts of many houses were greatly
injured, and sadly in need of repairs, I inquired, and learned that
last winter was one of very great severity at Damascus,--that an
unusual quantity of snow fell, and by its weight did great injury to
the houses. Their mode of building is not adapted for durability.
Their mud walls do not well stand the rainy season, however they
may abide the dry. The wood they use for joists, and for supporting
their flat mud roofs, is in great part the Lombardy poplar and
willow, which is their most abundant growth, except perhaps the
mulberry. This wood they put in, full of sap, bark and all, and of
course in a few years it must rot, and fall out of its place. When
it is entirely defended from the air and moisture, it may last some
time, but when, as in most cases, it is almost entirely exposed to
both, no marvel if the house needs repairing nearly every year; and
this I am told is not uncommon.

The bazaars or streets, where the stores and shops are placed, are
generally covered over, so as to exclude the sun. The streets not
being more than ten or fifteen feet wide on an average, a roof is
thrown across, at ten, fifteen, or twenty feet above--not a very
close roof, but one that keeps out the sun, but lets the air have
more or less circulation. All through these countries there is a
great care to procure a shade from the scorching rays of the sun;
for this purpose the streets are made narrow, and in many places
are covered, so that those who pass may have shade. This narrowness
of the streets, and the covering of them, does, it is true, give a
closeness to them, and operates against a free circulation of the
air; but this is supposed to be compensated, in part at least, by
the protection they give from the direct action of the sun.

I was taken to the house, as was said, where Ananias dwelt. It is
a kind of cellar,--a poor, miserable place; and I am sure that so
good a man deserved a more comfortable residence. I doubt altogether
whether it was his house. But I did not judge it worth while
discussing the matter with the Catholic priests, who claim the
ownership of it, and show it. I also went to see the window through
which Paul is said to have been let down in a basket. It is over one
of the gates. I had as little faith in this as the other. There is
indeed, I think, strong evidence against it. I did not go out to the
spot at which Paul is said to have been converted. The day was hot,
the distance considerable, and nothing marked the place. There is a
thousand chances to one against it being the real place.

The population of Damascus is not certainly known. From all I
could learn from several resident Franks, it may be 125,000; and
in the one hundred and seventy-three villages which lie round
Damascus there may be an equal number. A gentleman who has paid
some attention to the matter, and has been some time a resident in
the country, supposes the population of all Syria to be about one
million and a half. The chief data used in forming the estimate is
the number of men, the heads of families, who pay the tax levied on
such. They are about 25,000 in Damascus, and may form one-fifth of
the population. This, at least, gives an approximation--the best
we have when no census is taken. The majority of the population
is Mohammedans, but the proportion I either did not get, or have
forgotten it. There are a few Jews, and some of all the various
sects of Christians found in these regions.

Damascus has long been considered by the Mohammedans as one of their
sacred cities; and it is not many years since when their bigotry
was so great that Christians had to use much caution to avoid its
outbreakings. There is a great change in this respect. Christians
may now go about with little danger. We rode repeatedly through the
crowded bazaars, and no one appeared to take the least offence; and
generally gave their salaam with indications of kindness. Still, it
will sometimes show itself. It is not long since that Mr. Calman, a
Jewish missionary, when engaged in selling the Scriptures, was taken
up by the bigoted Mohammedans, and for a time feared that he might
be put to trouble, but was released without much difficulty.

The main, if not the only river which waters the part of the plain
where Damascus stands, is the Bareda. It rises near Zebdane. We
followed its course, as I have before informed you, until it entered
the plain. There it is divided into three parts, which are led at
a distance from each other for the purpose of watering the plain.
From these channels a multitude of smaller ones are led in all
directions, so that every part of the plain within reach of the
water may, from time to time, receive its life-giving influence. The
main channel passes through or near the city, and its waters are
carried by pipes to every part of it.

To the south and south-east other streams are said to enter and flow
through the plain; but we did not visit those parts. They must be
small streams. Indeed the Bareda is a small stream. It would with us
be called a good mill stream. We would rather term it a creek than
a river. It is mostly confined in a channel of eight or ten yards
wide, and then may be waded without coming above the knee. Much of
the water of these rivers is exhausted in irrigation. They flow
east, and after rendering a noble plain very fertile and productive
for twenty or thirty miles, form a lake or marsh--they have no
outlet. I wished much to ride eastward through this plain and see
the country about the lake, but the time of the year and other
causes prevented.

It was the sickly season, and there was much sickness in Damascus.
Visiting the city at such a time was not classed with a high
degree of prudence and caution, while to have spent a week or so
in exploring the plain, and visiting the many villages along the
Bareda, would have been considered almost madness--a tempting
of Providence. I therefore spent but one night and two days in
Damascus, and then hurried back to the high ground on the great
mountain of Lebanon--not, however, without a lingering purpose that
when the heats of summer are passed, I may take Damascus in my route
again, and see more of its wide-spread plains, and thickly-planted
villages.

The whole country east of Damascus, on the Euphrates, is, I am
told, much like what I have seen in the part already passed over.
As a general thing, it is wholly destitute of trees and even
bushes--and during the summer there is but little verdure; much of
it is covered with sand. There are, however, spots where water is
found, and at all these vegetation is produced. Where these spots
are of any size there are villages, and man contrives to live. These
green spots are like small islands scattered over the face of the
ocean, and may be found all the way to the Euphrates, and down that
stream past Bagdad to the gulf.

The ruins of Palmyra lie two or three days' travel north-east of
Damascus. They have often been visited lately, and the danger is not
great. Still it is too great to be lightly hazarded. A party, of
whom a friend of mine was one, were robbed in an attempt to go there
about five months ago. A slight skirmish took place between them and
a large party of Arabs, in which they were overpowered and robbed;
some were wounded, but happily none killed. Indemnification has been
had from the tribe who robbed them.

An attempt is about being made to establish a regular communication
between Damascus and a point on the Euphrates, beyond Palmyra;
which, if successful, will throw much more light on the interior of
this region, and may make it an easy thing to visit that far-famed
river, and the many antiquities that abound on its banks.

Damascus is a famous rendezvous for caravans. The caravans for
Mecca, Bagdad, and various other places, either pass or start from
this place. Some had come in just before we were there, and others
were preparing for their departure. This gave some activity to the
business of the place. The shortness of my stay, for the reasons
above assigned, did not allow me to see much of them. I had not time
to go out to the edge of the desert, where they usually encamp,
and there to see the grotesque appearance, the odd mixture, and
pell-mell state of things produced by such assemblages of men of all
nations, and such herding together of man and beast.

Damascus, and the region about it, is somewhat celebrated for its
fruit of various kinds. The grapes were fine--the apricots good,
and abundant--the plums the largest and finest I ever saw, being
nearly as large as a hen's egg. I saw but few peaches, they are said
to be good--the figs were fine of course--the apples indifferent.
The white mulberry-tree is much cultivated in this section of the
country, not for its fruit, which is but little esteemed, but for
feeding the silk-worm. The silk forms a considerable branch of
the Damascus trade, and the manufacture of it carried on to some
extent. The black mulberry is found in considerable quantities, and
is cultivated for its delicious fruit. The white walnut is with
the natives a favourite tree. The nut is rich and of a pleasant
taste. The tree gives a fine shade, grows well near the water, and
is larger than most of the other trees. The sycamore is found here.
The plane-tree is also found, but not very common--this is often
called the sycamore with us. There is a very large one in Damascus
near one of the gates. We measured it--thirty-six feet around. The
karoob-tree is a variety of the locust. The fruit is the husks which
the Prodigal Son would have eaten--a bean-like pod with a sweetish
meat in it.




LETTER VII.


  _Beyroot, Sept. 5th, 1836._

We left Damascus by the same road by which we had entered it, and
continued on the same way as far as Zebdane. Having already made
some remarks on the characteristic features of this district, I will
say no more about it.

From Zebdane, we kept up the valley, which ran a north-east
direction. It becomes narrow very soon after leaving that place, the
ridges from the mountains on both sides close in and often almost
meet, leaving but a small portion of level ground. Passing the
sources of the streams, the quantity of water diminishes fast. The
trees almost cease except at occasional spots, where care has been
taken to plant them. The ground for about an hour's travel is rough;
the plain then opens again to a considerable extent, and is more or
less cultivated. There are a few houses; but this part is but poorly
supplied with water, and without that the regions must be barren and
desolate.

We soon found ourselves passing over the highest part of the plain,
and beginning to descend. In short, we found that this little plain
was at the separating point of the head waters of the Bareda which
flows to Damascus, and those of the El-Kanne, which flows into the
Bokar through the Anti-Lebanon east of Zahle. We soon came to the
head branches of this last stream, which is formed of a set of most
noble springs, rising in the middle of the plain. There is quite
a cluster of them rising near each other, and throwing off enough
water to turn a mill; fine, pure, cool water. As is usual, it is
carried in channels through different parts of the plain. There is a
little cluster of trees, and the whole district over which the water
can be thrown is cultivated, and rich in verdure. A small village
stands just below, and we found some females at the spring engaged
in washing. For a small present they allowed us the use of their
fire to prepare our food; and again a good deal of interest was
excited to see the Franks eat.

The mountains continued very bare of trees, and shrubbery of every
kind. In the few places where water rose, there were a few trees,
all else was a barren, sunburnt surface. After passing the village,
which was poor in its appearance, the plain became more barren and
rough, and the cultivated district more and more narrow. At the
end of half an hour it terminated at a rough, narrow pass, nearly
due west, and directly through the Anti-Lebanon. We followed the
waters through this pass. The sides were steep and high, and the
rock thrown about in wild confusion. The dip of the rock was very
variable at different places. Along the stream were a few trees, and
we saw several large flocks of sheep and goats, under the care of
shepherds and their dogs.

After following the pass for an hour and a half, it bore to
the south-west; we left it, crossed a pretty high ridge to the
north-west, and entered the Bokar. On reaching the top, the plain
opened to view, and we had been led to expect that we should find
Baalbec at the point where we entered the plain. But no Baalbec was
to be seen. We found, to our no little discomfort, that we had about
two hours' ride northward, along a dry plain, under a burning sun,
before we could reach this far-famed ruin.

We passed several most extensive threshing-floors. Their threshing
instruments and mode of cleaning the grain, were the same as has
been already described. I might add, that in bringing their grain
to the floor, and in carrying away the straw, they use mules and
donkeys, and at times the camel. I saw, in no instance, the use
of a wheel-carriage. The only wheeled-carriages that I have seen
in Syria were those for cannon at Zahle, and ten or fifteen carts
which I saw at one time passing a street in Damascus. These carts
were of a coarse, strong kind, belonging to the Pasha, and were then
employed in carrying materials for the castle which he was repairing.

Our road lay over the ridges, at the foot of the mountains, along
the eastern side of the plain. The soil over which we passed was
thin. There was much rock on the surface, and in many places there
were wide-spread masses of a very coarse puddingstone, that appeared
to have once formed a huge bed of water-worn rock, bowlders, and
pebbles, and owing to some cementing matter which had come over
it, had become a solid rock. As we approached Baalbec this rock
discontinued, and gave place to a very thick stratum of massy
limestone of a peculiar kind, which is mainly used in the walls of
Baalbec.

Baalbec stands near the foot of the Anti-Lebanon, a little above the
general level of the plain. The ridges of the mountain lower down
gradually, and spreading out, form a general level, which merges
insensibly into that of the plain. It is on this elevated level that
the ruins stand; about a mile from them, on the side of a hill,
is the quarry that has furnished the stone for these stupendous
buildings. A little to the east arises the finest set of springs
that I have seen in Syria. They boil up over a considerable surface,
and send off a stream of water sufficient to set in operation
various kinds of machinery, if applied to that purpose.

The ground on which the ruins stand is nearly a dead level; a large
district has been surrounded by walls, traces of them remain. The
space covered by the ruins of the temple, or set of temples, and
possibly theatre and other buildings, is about nine hundred feet
long, and six hundred broad. The area is not, however, a regular
parallelogram, there are off-sets at some of the towers--towers
having apparently been added when the place was fortified, and
converted into a fort. A foundation or platform of great thickness,
I should say not less than ten feet, seems to have been laid over
this large space, and upon this foundation the temples have been
reared.

The stones in this foundation and wall, as in the walls still
higher, are many of them of a most enormous size; at the west and
south-west corner especially, they are almost incredibly large.
Where all were so large, we did not think it worth while to measure
very many. In one row, and that one at some distance from the
ground, are three stones which we measured, and made them about
seventy feet long each, and about fifteen feet wide. The thickness
we could not certainly tell, but we inferred it to be about fourteen
feet. These stones are much of the same shape and appearance, they
are precisely like one which lies nearly cut out in the quarry,
which we were, from its position, enabled to measure accurately. It
was seventy feet six inches long, fourteen feet two inches thick,
and seventeen feet nine inches wide at one end, and thirteen feet
eight inches at the other. We were at once struck with its perfect
likeness to the three stones in the wall; all of them were wider
at one end than the other. I suppose that these four large stones,
the three in the wall and the one in the quarry, were originally
intended, either for obelisks, pillars, images, or some such
thing; that their being now in the wall, is owing to a subsequent
arrangement, when the place was converted into a fortress, and those
stupendous outside walls put up, which now fill us with wonder.

Under these three immense stones are seven others, which almost
equal those above them in width; their thickness also, judging from
what is seen at the corner of the building, does not much fall
short of a due proportion. In truth, they are upon a most gigantic
scale. This row extends along the south-west side nearly one hundred
yards, forming a most solid foundation, ten or twelve feet high,
which, however, on this side, is not built upon out to the edge,
the wall going up about twenty feet inward. The above-mentioned
are the largest stones I saw in these ruins; but many others are
enormous, and, as a general thing, they are very large. As a sample,
I measured one of a large row of stones at the south-east corner
of the most perfect building now standing, (it was a corner stone,
which enabled me to ascertain the thickness,) and found it to be
twenty-eight feet long, six feet six inches wide, and four feet
six inches thick. I was not at all certain that I might not, on
measuring, have found many still larger.

The most perfect temple, now standing, is on the south-east side
of the above wide foundation. It is one hundred and fifty-seven
feet long, seventy-eight wide, and the walls now may be sixty-six
feet high. We inferred its height from the length of one of the
fallen pillars, with a row of which it was, and still is in part,
surrounded. The pillar is forty-nine feet eight inches; the capital,
six feet two inches; the entablature and the pediment may be ten;
making--say sixty-six feet. These pillars formed a portico all round
it--a covered way; the pillars being connected with the temple by
enormously large stones resting one end on the pillars, and the
other on the walls. The lower faces of these stones were most richly
wrought with various devices. The pillars are six feet four inches
in diameter at the bottom, and five feet eight inches at the top;
most of them are in three pieces. The door of the temple is at the
east; the pillars there are fluted; the porch before the door was
wider than at the sides--a noble arch was sprung over it, and in
the centre, and on the lower face of what is called the keystone,
(a stone of most gigantic size,) was carved a majestic wide-spread
eagle. This stone has sunk out of its place, and threatens to fall
from the arch. A modern wall has been put up, about ten feet east of
the door, and at the end of the walls, no doubt for the purpose of
defence.

In the inside of the building, and half sunk in the walls, are
fluted pillars, and at the corners they are so cut as to appear
double, the piece being one. At about fifteen or twenty feet from
the west end, two noble fluted pillars have stood at some distance
from the sides, evidently making part of a separation of a more
sacred apartment. They are fallen, but enough remains to show
that the sanctum sanctorum stood there. There is no roof on this
building, and from the fact that there are no windows in it, and
other reasons, it may be doubted whether it ever had one: on this,
however, I hesitate to give an opinion.

The south-east row of pillars belonging to this temple range with
the wall that rose from the deep wide moat, by which the whole
mass of buildings was surrounded. Opposite this temple, on the
north-west side of the foundation, are the remains of a still larger
temple, or building of some kind. But a small part of it remains;
along the north-west wall is a row of pillars, or rather parts of
pillars, the spaces between which have been filled up with large
stones, forming thus a solid wall. Opposite this, and nearly half
way to the temple, on the other side of the foundation, stands a
row of pillars, now reduced to seven or eight, the remainder having
fallen. They are about the size of those described--possibly they
are larger. The foundation on which they stand must be eight or ten
feet higher than that of the temple above described. These pillars
have the capitals on, and are connected by their richly-carved and
magnificent masses of entablature. How they have survived those
convulsions which have prostrated their companions, I know not. The
ruins which lie about, the broken rows of pillars and walls, show
that this edifice has been of great extent. Its sides, I am inclined
to think, have not been solid walls, but composed of these rows of
columns, and most probably the whole building has been open to the
heavens.

There is near the temple I have first described, and but a few yards
from its north-east end, a large building with very high and strong
walls. It projects out a good deal into the ditch, and has some
loop-holes. It is, as the arabesque work about the door shows, an
Arabic or Mohammedan building. It is badly lighted; it was used as a
granary or magazine for the troops stationed here, and we were thus
prevented from examining it.

Around the outside of the whole of the above wide foundation, and
on the outer edge of it, a wall of most enormous stones is run up
to a very great height; much of it, it is true, is fallen, but it
was originally from forty to fifty feet high. At the corners were
towers, and in various places loop-holes; at the east end a most
stupendous archway ran far in, having its floor nearly on a level
with the ground without. Possibly there were two of them originally,
but one was partly closed, leaving a small entrance. Such great
changes have been made on these ruins, by the fitting them up for a
fort, that it is not easy to know what their original plan and uses
were. The whole is surrounded by a deep wide ditch, which could be
filled with water; it is now much filled up with rubbish.

A wall has originally extended from the south-east, and possibly
also from the north-east, across the narrow plain which lies between
the ruins and the hill to the east. This wall, much of which
remains, has been of great strength. On the side of the hill is a
very large pediment, and about it lie many pieces of a stupendous
column which once stood upon it. No mortar or cement was used in the
construction of these works. The rock has been cut so smooth, and
fitted so exactly, that it is impossible to insert the blade of a
penknife between them.

I had heard that there were large columns of Egyptian granite among
these ruins. I saw some fragments of small columns of that kind, but
the large columns were all of the rock which abounds in the quarry
near. There is, in an old mosque not far from these ruins, a number
of columns of Egyptian granite, but none of them of a very large
kind. Still they were large enough to start the inquiry how they
could have been brought from Egypt to this place--how could masses
of rock, three feet in diameter and ten or fifteen feet long, be
brought over Mount Lebanon, which is so steep and high that it is a
great labour for man unloaded to pass? That it is the true Egyptian
granite, all who know that rock will at once admit--no such rock is
found in Syria.

Within the wall, and among the rubbish, is a small village. The
houses are indifferent, and the population must be small. The
Christians live in one quarter, and the Mohammedans in another.

Rather to our surprise, on reaching Baalbec, we saw to the east of
the ruins a number of tents, and other appearances of an encampment.
We learned in due time that there was stationed here a body of four
or five hundred Egyptian troopers, and that they had made this
their head-quarters for several years past. They lodged in tents
separated a little from each other, so as to give room for fastening
their horses. The tents were pitched in rows and the horses arranged
with some regularity. All had a very pretty appearance.

I was interested in the contrivance for feeding their horses.
Wood is not to be had here; and it would be labour for a Turk
to make a trough for his horse out of stone. They have found a
softer material. They take earth, and making it into mortar, form
a pile of about three feet in diameter, and nearly the same in
height--the sides are then raised, leaving a place within like a
mortar, in which the horse's food is placed. There are rows of these
horse-troughs, as they may be called, all through the encampment,
and the horses regularly fastened to them. As we walked round the
ruins one morning to get an entire view, we passed near a tent,
before which, under the shade of a tree, sat several Turkish
officers. From their dress, and some badges of honour which one or
two of them had on their breasts, we took them for persons of some
distinction. They kindly called us to come to the tent. They had
two very good chairs, which they made us occupy, seating themselves
_à-la-turque_. They entered freely into conversation, and made us
take a cup of coffee, after which we pursued our walk.

We had intended to take up our quarters among the ruins, but finding
so many soldiers near, we did not deem it prudent. We therefore
applied to the Latin convent, but on pretence of being full they
did not admit us. An offer was made us of a room in a house near
the convent, but on examination it was so close, dark, and filthy,
that we preferred taking up our lodgings on the top of the house.
There we spread our carpets and spent two nights; we found it a
very pleasant place. It was cool and pleasant, and no dew fell worth
mentioning. The only inconvenience we experienced was, in dressing
we were exposed to the gaze of all those who felt a wish to see how
the Franks put on their clothes, shave their beards, and do those
other things that are usually done in one's chamber.

Our route from Baalbec was to the far-famed cedars. They grow on
the Lebanon, and on the side next the sea. Our road was directly
across the plain, as the cedars are nearly opposite Baalbec. It
took us about two hours and a half to cross the plain. This, at the
usual mode of counting, would make it nearly eight miles wide. We
found scarcely any water in the plain; there was indeed a small dry
channel, and not far from it a slight trace of water, which was led
along so as to water some districts; the quantity was small, and
must soon have been exhausted. The noble body of water which came
from the set of springs near Baalbec was separated near those ruins:
one part was carried to one side, and the remainder to the other;
a considerable district through which they flowed was rich with
verdure. A pretty line of trees marked for a mile or two the tract
of the plain through which the water passed, but at the end of a few
miles they appeared to be exhausted. As the trees and richness of
verdure ceased, the plain below assumed its dry and parched aspect.
In these sunny plains the exhaustion of water must be very great;
and I now the less marvel to find lakes which have no outlets, and
rivers which are lost in the sand. They become exhausted.

When we had nearly reached the foot of the Lebanon, we saw a large
solitary pillar standing in the plain. We saw no ruins near it.
We were told by a peasant that it was just like the pillars in
Baalbec, but what it was doing there alone he was unable to tell.

The ascent of Mount Lebanon was a most toilsome matter. We had to
cross over one of the highest points of the mountain. There is
another way which is more easy, but farther; we preferred crossing
the highest place, as we might not cross here again, and wished
to see the mountain in all its majesty. The first ridge which we
ascended had more natural growth on it than any district I have seen
in this country. It was pretty well covered with shrubs and low
trees--most of them oak. The tops of most of the large ones had been
cut off, I suppose for fuel. They appear to pursue a plan here, much
followed in some parts of France, Savoy, and Italy, of cutting off
the tops of the trees for fuel; and when the branches which shoot
out have grown to the thickness of a man's arm, they are again cut
off for the same purpose, and the same course still followed.

The rock on this ridge was wholly limestone. As we approached the
top of it, and near the foot of the main ridge, the rock was very
soft and much broken from the action of the air upon it. This
continued to be the character of the rock over most of the main
ridge. In some parts it was broken very fine and formed beds of
loose rock; in which our mules sunk as if it were a bed of sand.
A little up the side of the main ridge rose a beautiful spring of
clear water, which served to produce verdure over a small district
below. There were a few trees and shrubs scattered over the ridge
almost to its summit; but in these upper parts they were few and
small, and far between. I saw a few stunted cedars among them. As we
approached the top, we passed through several large banks of snow.
The face of the mountain was not generally covered with it, but it
lay in large masses or spots where, from some cause, the wind had
thrown much of it together. Streams of water flowed from them. When
on the top we had satisfactory evidence that we were on one of the
highest points of Lebanon. The ridge was narrow at this part of the
mountain; there was no snow on the very summit, nor was there much
on the north-west side--much less than on the south-east, and much
less on either than on the Sun-neen, when I was there five weeks
ago. The entire upper region was destitute of vegetation, not a
bush to be seen, and but a small sample even of the thistle, which
of all other plants appears the most tenacious of spreading itself
everywhere.

From this eminence we had a most extensive view to the west--the
long, irregular slope of the mountain to the sea--the narrow plain
along the coast--and the wide-spread Mediterranean, till where the
heavens appeared to come down and fence in the waters. But the
object which among the first was sought for, was the cedars--the
far-famed cedars of Lebanon! where could they be?

The Lebanon, at this place, makes on the side next the sea a
considerable bend, having the concave part next the sea. We stood
opposite the deep and wide hollow that comes up from Tripoli, and
down which flows a stream, the head springs of which rose far below
our feet. The mountain, both to our right and left, threw out high
and long ridges towards the sea. We had a steep descent before us
of, I should think, at least two thousand feet; on the sides of
which not a bush was to be seen. Then, there was a small level in
which several springs of water took their rise; and from the lower
side of this level another deep and rough hollow opened, with
stupendous precipices on its sides. Below this, and along the sides,
we saw trees and a considerable village. Near the middle of the
little plain, at the foot of the steep descent below us, we saw a
clump of trees, but they looked too few or too small for the cedars.
They resembled a small orchard of evergreens. We found, however,
on reaching the plain, that they were the cedars we sought. They
stand in irregular groups, spread over several little stony knolls,
and may possibly cover eight or ten acres of ground. They are not
what with us is called the cedar, but a variety of the pine. It is
a resinous tree bearing a cone. The wood is of a white pine-like
appearance. We spread our carpets, and spent the night under one of
the father-trees of this grove.

It is not easy to decide how many old trees there are; eight or
ten have a more venerable appearance than the remainder; still
others approach them so nearly in size and marks of age, that it is
difficult to say why one should be called old and the other young.
I once thought of counting the grove, but from the irregularity
of the ground, and the situation of the trees, this was no easy
matter--especially for a man who had crossed the Lebanon the same
day. I counted, however, a small section, and am disposed to think
that there may be from 300 to 500 trees that are more than a foot
in diameter--possibly 150 that may be above two feet--and about 50
or 60 that may be from three to four feet in diameter. A few we
measured; the largest was 39 feet in circumference--one 32--one
29--one 28, and one 23: these may serve as a sample. Most of the
large ones forked near the ground, and were rather assemblages of
trees from the same root than a single tree. Those of the third size
had some of them fine, straight bodies, and ran up to a considerable
height. We procured some specimens of the wood, and a sample of the
cones, and then bid adieu to this much-talked-of grove.

It is pretty certain that this grove did not furnish wood for
Solomon. It lies opposite Tripoli, which is two days north of
Beyroot, and Beyroot is north of Tyre and Sidon. It lies up far
from the sea, and has a piece of country between it and the sea, as
rough as can well be found anywhere. The grove does not appear to
be diminishing, but rather increasing. I saw no stumps of fallen
trees, and young ones are springing up. There is a kind of religious
reverence for these trees among the neighbouring villagers. They
have a singular appearance standing alone in the midst of a small
plain on which no other trees grow, with no other trees above them,
nor for a considerable space below. Another singular fact is, that
there is no water running among them. There is a stream on the
side of the plain, but it comes not near them. The ground appears
enriched with the leaves that fall from them, and looks precisely as
the soil usually does in a pine grove.

Leaving the cedars, we passed down the valley; a most rough and
steep descent. We passed a village well watered, surrounded with
mulberry, poplar, willow and fruit trees of various kinds. The state
of cultivation on both sides of the valley, for some distance down,
was much better than I have usually seen in these mountains. Several
villages were in sight.

I noticed that the females here had a new kind of horn. It was
only about six inches long, but much larger than those worn at
Beyroot and Bru-ma-nah. It was like the crown of a very small hat,
with the front part a little enlarged like the mouth of a bowl.
It is fastened on the top of the head, but a little back, and
has much ornament upon it. In our descent we passed a sandstone
formation; there were no pines upon it, as upon those formations
near Bru-ma-nah. Near the mouth of this hollow, the rock becomes
very irregular, and has the dip much more near the top. This is
especially the case with the secondary ridges and the irregular
hills which rise between the main ridge and the sea. There is a
plain of some extent between Tripoli, which stands on the sea-shore,
and the foot of the mountain, interspersed with vineyards, fields,
villages, and fine groves of olive. There is much rock on the
surface; their mode is to throw the rock out of the fields and
vineyards into the road, to the great annoyance of the traveller.

We passed a very high rock in the middle of the plain which had
a wide, high, flat face to the south--in that face I counted the
mouths of nearly thirty tombs. Most of them were from ten to twelve
feet high. There was a house on the top, said to be a convent.

We also passed an old city, which must once have been a place of
great strength. The walls are nearly perfect and very strong. There
are but few people in the city. It stands there almost alone.
Most of the houses within are gone, and cultivated spots occupy
their place. It is said to be the city of Gebal, Ez. xxvii. 9,
now called Jebail. The plain along the coast is rough--has a few
villages--several small rivers enter. On the banks of one, Nahr
El-Kelb, or Dog river, which has a good bridge over it, we saw some
figures cut on the face of the rock. They are very ancient, and it
is said that the Persian arrow-head may be seen. I did not stop to
examine them. They are too much defaced to be deciphered correctly.




LETTER VIII.


  _Beyroot, September 12, 1836._

We have had a very pleasant visit at this place from the American
squadron, consisting of the Constitution, the United States, and
the John Adams, under the command of Commodore Elliott. The general
regret was, that its stay was so short--less than one week. It is
seldom that vessels of war, except those of Mohammed Ali, visit
this place. The English, although they keep a large force in the
Mediterranean, have not sent one ship of war to this coast for
several years, and the last one sent was of a very small size. The
Delaware, under Commodore Patterson, was here two years ago, and
made a very good impression of American character and power. At
that time the stay was longer, and I was told by a gentleman of the
place, who had the best opportunity of knowing, that he supposed
about forty thousand persons visited the ship during Commodore
Patterson's visit. A very large number visited the vessels during
the few days that they remained here under Commodore Elliott.

I was on board the Constitution on the Sabbath, and present at
public worship. Several from Beyroot attended, and it was pleasing
to see full attendance of officers and men, and the perfect quiet
and respectful attention which the crew exhibited. The youngest
child of the American consul had not been baptized, and he expressed
a wish to have it baptized on board the Constitution, and by the
chaplain of that vessel. This was done at his request, and the child
named _Washington_; and thus, as was pleasantly remarked to him,
he has now a good _constitutional_ child. In the afternoon, the
Commodore and some of his officers attended worship on shore at the
consul's, where service is regularly performed, usually by one of
the American missionaries, or some other preacher of the gospel who
may be present.

The commanders and officers deserve great credit for the readiness
they manifest to satisfy the natural but almost troublesome
curiosity of the many who go off to see the vessels. It is really
no little trouble to be employed from morning to night, and that
from day to day, in receiving company after company--it may be
having three or four companies on board at the same time--taking
them through the ship, and showing and explaining to them whatever
excites their notice. It is not to be wondered at, that in the
public vessels of most of the European powers, this privilege is
allowed but to a few. The American commanders have, very wisely, I
think, adopted the plan of indulging and gratifying the curiosity of
the people, although at the expense of trouble to themselves. The
American flag is not much known as yet in these seas; the nation is
not much known.

Of the few Americans scattered around these shores, a considerable
portion are the missionaries and their helpers, who are labouring
to dispel the darkness that rests on these countries; to impart
correct knowledge of religion and morals; to break the chains
which gross superstition has here laid on the human mind, and to
promote all kinds of useful knowledge and improvement. Most of
these missionaries are regularly educated men, and all of them of
good repute as to morals and religion. From the peculiar state
of superstition and bigotry in these countries--from a watchful
jealousy of a corrupt and dominant priesthood, it must be expected
that a jealousy will be felt towards missionaries, and efforts made
to counteract their labours to do good. The occasional visits of
the American squadron to those quarters where these benevolent
men are labouring, the pleasant and profitable intercourse which
the officers may have with the missionaries, and those among whom
they labour, has a most kindly influence. So far as I have had an
opportunity of learning, and my opportunities have extended to most
of the mission stations, the visits of these public vessels have
been most grateful to the missionaries. The commandants, and many
of the officers, have manifested so much good will to missionaries
as individuals, and such interest in the success of their efforts
to improve the moral and religious condition of these countries, as
encouraged them in their work, and is not without its good effect on
those among whom they are labouring.




LETTER IX.


  _Beyroot, September 20, 1836._

Yesterday, Ibrahim Pasha reached this place in an Egyptian frigate
from Tripoli, on his way to the south. He landed about the middle of
the day, under a salute from the forts, and was escorted by a body
of troops to a large house outside the walls, and near the sands.
In the afternoon, the American consul, who was about to call on the
Pasha, as is usual with the consuls on such occasions, was so kind
as to call and take me with him. We found a company of soldiers
before the door, and a number of officers and dignitaries of various
kinds, in waiting. We were asked into a carpeted room, with a divan,
that is, a low seat covered with cushions, on all sides. The Pasha
was seated in one corner; several consuls with their suites were
in the act of leaving when we entered. He returned our salutations
with an inclination of the head, and a slight motion of his hand to
his breast, and pointed us to seats on the divan a few feet from
him--the consul on his right and myself on his left.

The Pasha is a short man, but heavily built, and I should judge from
his appearance that he has considerable muscular force. He has a
coarse, homely, round face, but none of its features can be called
striking. His skin is rather rough and coarse, and looks as if it
would bear washing more frequently than it receives it, and would
not be the worse if some soap were at times added to the water.
This was the case also with his hands, which looked as if they had
never known a glove. They were fleshy--the fingers short but thick,
and indicated a powerful grasp. He wore the Turkish dress, which,
as you know, consists of a long robe open in front, and also at the
sides from the knees down, showing the large loose trousers worn
under them. His outside garment was of a flesh-coloured silk; the
second, which showed itself at the breast, was striped silk. His
girdle was a variegated Cashmere shawl, forming a bandage round him
of a foot in width. This shawl was not of the finest kind. He had
a plain red fez on his head, with no other ornament upon it than
the usual blue tassel. He wore plain stockings and a pair of red
slippers. In truth, his whole dress was far inferior to that of a
number of persons who came in and paid their respects to him while
we were there. Most of them, however, wore the large Turkish cloak;
he was without any. Take him all in all, the man and the dress, and
I think that at least one half of those who came in while we were
there, were his equals, if not his superiors. He conversed freely,
laughed a good deal, and several times very heartily. I could not
understand enough of the conversation to know what things had the
power of pleasing and amusing him. At times, I thought a sour
and severe expression gathered on his countenance. He spoke with
interest of the American squadron, and the politeness of Commodore
Elliott in showing him everything about his vessel. He was evidently
struck with the style and equipment of our vessels. He mentioned
with much satisfaction some small present the commodore made him.
The visiters were announced by an officer in waiting, and approached
him usually one at a time. When they were Turks, and possibly the
case was the same with all but Franks, they kneeled on one or both
knees, making the Turkish salutation, and kissed his hand, which he
held out to them; then rose, repeating the application of the hand
to the forehead and breast, and retired to the part of the room or
divan to which he pointed them. The more respectable persons were
invited to be seated.

One of his objects in coming to Beyroot is, to visit the coal-mines
in this vicinity. He referred to this object, saying with a laugh
that he was going to Corneil to turn coal-merchant. He has for
some time been trying to make the coal-mines of advantage to his
close-run treasury; but he is a poor manager, and until he adopts a
better plan he is not likely to make a fortune at the coal-trade.
He has the mines worked mainly by mountaineers pressed into the
service, who are, at the end of a few weeks or months, changed
for others; and thus, as soon as they learn how to work, they are
changed for those again who must be taught. Ibrahim Pasha is,
however, a man of some force of character, and has a mind more
fit, it is said, for the department of a soldier than that of a
statesman. He has for many years led the armies of his father
Mohammed Ali, and, in many contested fields, he has won laurels
which do not fall on the head of every general. The regions of
Upper Egypt, the plains of Arabia, the land of Palestine, the
interior of Asia Minor, not to mention Greece and the Isles, have
felt the desolation caused by his troops. It is said, however, that
the father is the man who plans--that without him as the head, the
son will make but a poor business of it; and those who thus consider
the matter, infer, that when the father dies, the wide domain which
now submits to his sway will fall in pieces, and become the prey of
those who may have the power and skill to come in for the spoil.
I know not how much ground for these opinions may exist--but one
thing we know, that power acquired and perpetuated by crime, usually
terminates in the ruin of those who have wielded it.

With respect to his private character, I have not learned much;
but part of what I have learned is not much to his credit. It is
generally admitted that he is a very intemperate man, and often
under the influence of strong drink. The Turks, indeed, are, many
of them, fond of ardent spirits, and the law of Mohammed to the
contrary, will, notwithstanding, take strong drink when they can
get it. When among the ruins of Baalbec, a soldier came, and for
some time hung about us. We could not tell what the man wanted, at
length he asked for spirits. We had none, and told him so, asking
him if he was not ashamed to violate his religion in drinking what
it forbids? Oh, he said, he could not read,--he did not know what
might be in the Koran. I have at other times seen them drink, and do
it with a great apparent relish. From all I see, I am inclined to
the opinion that Mohammedanism is fast losing its hold on thousands
of its followers, all through these regions, and the same holds
good with that corrupt system of Christianity which prevails here.
There are an increasing number who are having their eyes opened to
see the grossness of its superstition--who see and understand more
and more the tricks of the priesthood; and most of them, having no
idea of pure, Bible, Protestant Christianity, are likely to plunge
into scepticism and downright infidelity. There is need of a tenfold
increase of active effort, to spread abroad among these communities
the pure word of truth--the knowledge of Christ--the healing,
purifying doctrines of the Gospel.

I have heard of several tricks of Ibrahim Pasha's, which show
something of the man. It is an object constantly kept in view with
him, to increase his army. This is done in great part by seizing
persons, mostly young men and boys, and making soldiers of them.
This is confined to the Mohammedans. A report got out, however,
that he intended to take a number of the Ansairi for soldiers. They
occupy a district of the mountains north of Tripoli, and onward to
Aleppo. The Ansairi took the alarm, and fled to their fastnesses and
strong places in the mountains. His troops, that were in fact sent
out as a press-gang to take them, returned with very few--it was a
failure. Then did the wily Ibrahim set his trap, and use these few
for the bait. He inquired who they were, and being answered that
they were Ansairi, he ordered them to be freed, saying that he did
not want such--he wanted none for his armies but good Mohammedans.
The Ansairi are a mongrel sort of Turks, who have a strange medley
of religious notions and practices, which are but partially known,
and not, as yet, satisfactorily classed--neither Christians,
Mohammedans, nor Pagans, but a little of all. The liberated Ansairi
were greatly pleased at their escape, reported it to their brethren,
who came down from their mountains, and were taken in great
numbers. The person who related the fact saw nearly a thousand of
them marched into Aleppo in chains, to be drilled and trained for
soldiers.

The most important religious sects in this region are the Greeks,
Maronites, Druses, and Mohammedans. The Greeks are divided into the
Greek and the Catholic Greek. The Greeks differ from the Catholic
or Roman church in several things. One of the chief points of
difference is about the procession of the Holy Spirit, which they
hold to be from the Son only, and not from the Father and Son, as
held by the Roman church, and in which the Protestant churches are
mostly agreed with the latter. The Greek church allows the free use
of the Scriptures; rejects images in worship; but are madly set on
the use of pictures. They reject the authority of the Pope.

The Pope and his missionaries have long made most strenuous efforts
to bring the Greek church to an agreement with him and a subjection
to his authority. They have for centuries employed missionaries and
agents of all sorts to accomplish this. Nor have these efforts been
wholly without effect. Throughout the East, where the Greek church
exists, there are a portion who have been prevailed on to admit the
authority of the Pope, and more or less modify their Greek notions
to a nearer conformity to the popish standard. These are called
Greek Catholics. They are pretty numerous in many places, and have a
good deal of influence all through these regions.

The Maronites take their name from an individual who somehow
contrived to be the head of a party, and to leave it his name as an
inheritance. They differ, I am told, but very little from the Roman
Catholics; hardly as much as the distinctive character of their name
would seem to indicate.

It is not yet fully decided what the Druses are. Some assert that
they are worshippers of the calf. They have a secret which is
imparted only to a part of their people. This part is what may be
called the enlightened--the initiated--the knowing--and they, like
the freemasons among us, are most careful not to divulge the secret.
They form a large part of the population of Mount Lebanon. They
appear to be a quiet and well-disposed people, but it is not easy to
find out what are their real religious principles and belief. They
are charged by some with modifying, or pretending to modify, their
opinions to suit those with whom they may be. With a Mohammedan
they are Mohammedans, and with a Christian they are almost, if not
altogether Christian. But in this they may plead the example of many
who have gone before them, and modelled their creed to suit the
circumstances of the times.

The Mohammedans are the followers of Mohammed, who lived in the
early part of the seventh century, and introduced a new religion.
His system borrows some things from Judaism, and some from
Christianity, but in many important matters differs from both. Nor
is it Paganism, having a most decided aversion to idolatry. It
would take more time than I can at present spare, to give a full
account of it. It may suffice to say, that Mohammed acknowledged the
truth of the Jewish religion--all the Jewish prophets he received
as prophets of the Lord.--He admitted that Jesus Christ was a
great prophet, yea, the greatest prophet that up to his time had
come into the world, and that the religion he taught was the true
religion. But he pretended that he himself was sent as the last and
greatest of all prophets, and authorized to make such changes in the
religion of the Jews and Christians as to justify its being called
a new religion--and that his system as set forth in the Koran is
now, since he came, the only true religion. He made circumcision a
rite in his system. They give much honour to the saints of the Old
Testament, the church and the apostles. Their worship is plain. They
are wholly opposed to the use of images or pictures. Their chief
day of worship is Friday. They pray much, have long fasts, allow a
plurality of wives; but in practice this is not as common as many
have supposed, and is confined to a comparatively small number.

One of those things that immediately strikes the notice of a
traveller in these regions, is the number of monasteries and
religious houses, and the peculiarity of their situation. There may
be eight or ten counted from Beyroot; and how many may be within
the range of twenty or thirty miles, I cannot well conjecture. From
the number I passed in going to the top of Lebanon, and returning
from the Cedars by Tripoli, I must suppose them to be from one
to two hundred. A friend of mine counted sixteen from a place
near Nahr-El-Kelb; and a native assured me that from the top of a
mountain near Nahr-El-Kelb, nearly one hundred could be seen. The
number of houses for men is much greater than those for women.
There must of course be a considerable number of monks, but it has
occurred to me that the actual number is not as great as the number
of houses would seem to indicate; many houses have but a scanty
number of inmates. To the inquiry, which I have often made, whether
the monastery system is not losing its hold on the public mind? it
has generally been answered, that no very perceptible change could
be noticed. I am still, however, of the opinion, that the system
is not as favourably received as it was in times past; and I shall
be greatly disappointed if it does not, and that before long,
appear that the system is wearing out. General developments have
been made, which show that these houses are seats of corruption
and abomination, and that the best interests of the church and of
society would be promoted by the system's coming to an end.

Beyroot has been the main seat of the Palestine mission. This has
been the usual residence of the missionaries, and here and in
the vicinity most of their labours have been expended. Good, no
doubt, has been accomplished. It has been, however, a hard soil to
cultivate. There are peculiar difficulties to be met with in the
character, habits, and especially the ignorance and deep-rooted
religious prejudices of the people. The Arabic language, which is
the one almost universally spoken here, is a language difficult
to acquire so as to use it freely in preaching. Of course, some
time must be lost before a missionary can so master the language
as to do much in clerical addresses to the people. A part of their
efforts have been directed to schools, and in this place have made
some progress. They had a number of schools, and were through them
operating well on the minds of the people. About three months ago,
at the same time that the movement was made against the missionaries
in Greece, Smyrna, and the adjacent parts, a similar movement was
made here, and the effect has been, the suspension of most of the
common schools. I have no doubt that is a part of a wide-spread
plan to counteract and break up, or render unavailing, if possible,
all missionary operations in and around the Mediterranean. I hope
it will fail, and I doubt not but that it will. It may, however,
make the missionary work more difficult, and, for a time, less
productive of its desired fruit. I have no doubt the hand of the
Roman Catholics is in the matter--for in all places and at all times
they have greatly withstood missionary efforts.

There is a mission press at this place. It has laboured under great
difficulties for the want of many things to make complete their
Arabic fonte, and from the impossibility of procuring them here, and
the delay in getting them from America or Europe. The distribution
of books is one of the ways of operating. Something has been done
and is still doing; but the watchful adversary is now opposing this
mode of working. Much suspicion is excited against their books, and
from time to time we hear of some being burned. In a late tour we
had some books with us, but found that in most of the villages the
people had been warned against receiving them. All these things are
to be expected. It is not to be supposed that the enemy will quietly
see the light of the gospel poured upon his dark empire of ignorance
and superstition. I should not wonder at an effort being made to add
more severe measures than burning books and withdrawing children
from school. Indeed, there was an effort made about three months
since, to drive the mission families from the mountains, where they
had gone to spend the sickly season, and were about opening schools
for the summer. The prince of the village, at the instigation, as
he admitted, of the Catholic priest, forbade his people to have any
intercourse with them, to buy or to sell to them, and threatened
to burn down the houses in which the missionaries might reside.
The American consul laid the case before the Emeer Busheer, the
head prince of the mountains, and claimed for them, as respectable,
well-conducted American citizens, who had for health gone to the
mountains for a few months, the right of protection usually enjoyed.
The Emeer sent an officer and inquired into the case--reversed the
orders of the local prince, and assured them of his protection.
It was a lesson which I hope the local authorities will not soon
forget. The prince who made the attempt to oppress and oppose
them had not long before become a Catholic. The Emeer Busheer who
protected them is not a Catholic; he was until recently considered
a Moslem, but now professes to be a Maronite Christian. Thus the
Lord can raise protectors and helpers from whom he pleases--make of
stones children to Abraham.

A few nights since we had our attention called to a very pretty
spectacle. As it began to grow dark, we observed bonfires lighted
in the neighbourhood, and other tokens of festivity. We went to the
terrace on the top of the house, which commanded a most extensive
view of Mount Lebanon, a view of nearly thirty miles. Along the
whole range we could see the bonfires glaring. They looked, on the
dark side of the mountain, like stars on the face of the deep blue
vault of heaven. I made several attempts to count them; but it was
much like counting the stars, which, when a boy, I often attempted
to do, but almost always abandoned, before I reached a hundred, from
a strange feeling of the difficulty of continuing the enumeration,
when the objects lay thus without order. These bonfires were of all
sizes, and were often marked by fitful blazes of light, as new fuel
was thrown on them. Others would glimmer and expire, while new ones
would burst forth, and soon attain to the first magnitude, and then
die away, or be subjects of those fitful flashes that indicated the
addition of fresh fuel.

On inquiry I learned that this was the feast of the Cross, and
that these illuminations and bonfires were in commemoration of the
finding of the true cross by the Empress Helena. It is said that
on her way to Jerusalem she gave orders that preparation should be
made that, in case she was successful in finding the cross, the
event might be made known by bonfires, and thus the intelligence
be communicated to Constantinople. Much of the religion of these
people consists in such things. Their fasts--their attending
mass--their worshipping and kissing the pictures--keeping the holy
days--and counting their beads, constitute the principal part of
their religion. As to the pure service of the heart--faith that
worketh by love--regeneration by the Spirit--a new moral nature,
effected through the word of truth under the agencies of the Holy
Spirit, with most if not all the other elements of real genuine
piety, they are almost wholly ignorant. It is, indeed, astonishing
that a people, who have the book of God in their hands, should so
long remain in utter darkness and ignorance of that spirituality
which beams forth from all parts of it. This whole region is yet
in the dark ages. Let any one who wishes to form a correct idea of
the state of things here, read a well-written account of the middle
ages--the preliminary dissertation to Robertson's History of Charles
the Fifth, and Hallam on the Middle Ages--and he will have before
him the leading features of the state of the church and society
now found here. The agreement will not, it is true, hold good in
all points, but in the main there is a strong family likeness.
May the Lord soon raise up reformers!--and may the truth soon go
forth as the light, and his revelation as a lamp that burneth! The
reformation in Europe was preceded by many things which betokened
the coming of day; and there are many things now which bespeak the
approach of a time of light, life, and salvation, for these regions
that have long lain waste. The last ten years have witnessed great
changes, and we hope the next ten will record still greater.

You have often heard of the Sherock, or Siroc, as it is often
spelled. The weather had become much cooler, but this strong south
wind has brought it back to its greatest summer heat. It does not
usually blow more than two or three days at a time; but we have had
it now for four or five days, and it still continues. Many persons
complain much of it--"feel it in every nerve." It does not affect
me, except as it makes the air warm and oppressive.

Last night, for some unknown cause, connected probably with the
Sherock, (which is made to bear the blame of all sorts of evils,
and ought in fairness get credit for some good,) we had the most
heavy dew at Beyroot that I have seen in Syria. This is the more
remarkable, as the dews have usually been very light. It fell
copiously soon after sunset, and this morning the earth looked as
if a little shower of rain had fallen. There was also this morning,
for the first time since I came to Beyroot, a dense fog--one of the
most dense I ever saw--this also is to be ascribed to the Sherock, I
suppose.

Yesterday I visited the ruins of Dair-El-Kollah, which lie near a
village called Bate-Meiry, about three hours' ride from Beyroot.
They are of the same style of building as those of Baalbec, but on
a much smaller scale. It has most likely been an old temple. The
stones are enormous, but not equal to the largest at Baalbec. Most
of the wall has been thrown down, but one or two of the lower rows
lie in their places. The stone is put together without cement, and
the face, like those of Baalbec, made so smooth, that you could
not put a knife in the crack. The pillars before the building were
large, but not equal to those of Baalbec. They were composed of
three pieces; the lower one, about twelve feet long, alone remains
standing. The rock is a coarse marble, and I saw a few fragments of
granite. These ruins are on the top of the secondary ridge, about
half way to the top of Mount Lebanon; a church now stands on part of
them.




LETTER X.


  _Jaffa, Sept. 30th, 1836._

I have at length set out to make a tour through Palestine, or at
least a part of it, and will send you some brief notices of what
may particularly engage my attention. The great heat which we felt
in this country, particularly on the plains, induced me to defer my
tour thus long, as I judged it not well to run unnecessary hazard
in my eagerness to see the chosen land, and to visit the places
referred to in the Holy Scriptures. The great heats of summer are
now past, showers of rain have already fallen, and the driving up of
clouds at one time from the north, and at another from the south,
betoken the approach of those copious showers, which the earth,
parched by a whole summer's sun, so much requires, and which man and
beast need to refresh their exhausted system.

We went on board a small vessel on the 28th, but the wind was so
light that we were only off the sands, and still in sight of Beyroot
the next morning. During the next day we had very little wind, and
made but slow progress. Towards night, however, a wind sprang up,
and we passed Sidon, but at too great a distance to have a good view
of it. I hope to obtain this on my return, as my plan is to return
by land, for the purpose of seeing as much as I can of the country.

The mountains appear to retain nearly the same height and appearance
as those near Beyroot. They seemed, however, to fall back from the
sea and leave a wider plain along the coast, and to the south they
appeared to decrease in height. Night came on, and shut out the
land from our observation. With the night, a fine wind arose, and
began to pass rapidly to the south. About midnight we passed Soor,
the ancient Tyre: we were thus unable to see it. It would have been
pleasant to have seen it from the sea, and to have been able to
make some observations on the plains and mountains, by which it is
surrounded on the land side. We passed Acre too early, and at too
great a distance to see it distinctly. It has a wide plain to the
east, and a little to the south-east the great plain of Esdralon
extends from the Mediterranean to the sea of Tiberias. Having a most
favourable wind, we passed on at a great rate, and just as the sun
rose we passed the north end of Mount Carmel. It is a mountain, or
hill as we should call it, a straight and regular ridge, eight or
ten miles long, running north and south; on the top and side next
us, almost wholly destitute of trees, and without cultivation. It
has very little rock on the surface except near the north end--much
less than Lebanon, and appears favourable for cultivation.

I should not have estimated Carmel to be more than eight hundred
or one thousand feet high. It is, however, usually said to be much
higher. This ridge is separated from the branches of the Lebanon by
a part of the plain of Esdralon. Indeed, Lebanon has come down from
the great loftiness which it has near Sidon, and has spread itself
over the country in small ridges. Carmel lies more west than the
Lebanon range. At its north end it forms an abrupt termination in a
bold promontory. On the top of this promontory, and near the end, is
a monastery belonging to the Latins. There are a few monks there,
how many I did not learn. It has an imposing appearance, but I could
see no other human habitation near it. There is a plain of varied
width between Carmel and the shore. It is almost wholly destitute
of trees, hardly a bush to be seen unless of a very small size. The
plain varies in width from one to two miles. Much of it, especially
near the shore, was covered with sand. I saw no human being, or
human habitation on it, except a few old ruins. A few miles south of
the monastery there were considerable ruins on a sandy point that
projects into the sea. It has, probably, been a fort.

At the distance of eight or nine miles from the promontory, the
ridge called Carmel suddenly sinks down, and gives place to a
wide-spread plain. Near the south end of the mountain, they point
out on the shore the site of the famous city Cesarea, which is often
mentioned in the New Testament--the place where Paul was detained a
prisoner many years, and made his admirable defence before Agrippa
and Festus. It was once a place of considerable importance, rose
suddenly to much celebrity, and almost as suddenly declined, and for
a long period has been in a state of utter desolation. I saw a few
pillars standing, and some other remains of departed greatness. The
plain which begins at the southern end of Carmel, is the celebrated
plain of Sharon.

We reached Jaffa about the middle of the afternoon, having had a
most expeditious sail from Sidon. The wind had served us a good
turn, in bringing us so soon to Jaffa, but we now experienced
another consequence not so pleasant; it still blew hard, and made
the sea so rough that we could not land. The harbour of Jaffa is not
good, or rather there is no harbour worth the name. We had to anchor
some miles out at sea, where there was a tremendous swell; there was
no help, we had to bear it as we could. We landed the next morning,
and were most kindly received by the American consul. He did all in
his power to render us comfortable.

Jaffa stands on a sandy point, which projects a little distance into
the sea. The ground at the point is more elevated than farther
back. It is a walled town, with a double wall and fosse in some
places, all, however, much out of repair. We saw but a few cannon
on the part of the wall which we examined, and those small and in
bad order. We passed a number of soldiers in our walks about the
town, and found a strong guard at the gate. Most of the houses
have a very old appearance, few of them are good; the streets are
narrow, crooked, and filthy, as in almost all the Turkish towns I
have visited. The houses are much crowded together, and cover a very
small space, considering their number. This is the case with most
of the Turkish towns in the East, especially their walled towns on
the coast. We visited the Latin and Greek convents, and were kindly
received, and had coffee and sweetmeats handed us. The bazaars and
shops appeared exceedingly poor, and to be scantily supplied with
articles of merchandise.

Jaffa is a place of interest, chiefly, as being the sea-port nearest
Jerusalem, and the landing-place of a large number of pilgrims that
annually resort, by thousands, to visit the holy places in and
about Jerusalem. It has also, in the noble plain of Sharon, a most
admirable back country. But what avails a country, however good,
if there be not people to cultivate it, and if the government be
so unwise and oppressive as to hold out no inducement for industry
among the people?

While looking at the city, we went without the walls as far as the
grave-yard. I had noticed on the shore, and in the street, great
quantities of a small but beautiful sea-shell, and at the grave-yard
I found them very abundant, and put to a singular use. They were
laid on the graves in great numbers, often forming quite a little
mound on the top of the grave, and in many cases, a newly-formed
stone, which is found at certain places on the shore, and which is
in great part made up of these shells, was set up at the head and
foot of the graves. It had a tasteful and pretty appearance.

The place was pointed out to us at a distance, where Bonaparte is
said to have shot several thousand prisoners. He has been much
blamed for it, and probably not without some cause. If, however, his
own account, as I have seen it given, be true, that they had before
been his prisoners, and had been set at large on parole, under
engagement not again to take up arms against him; that they had
broken parole and were again captured while fighting against him;
if this were the case, he is, according to the laws of war, less to
blame than many have supposed. Not that I would justify him, but bad
as he was, his opponents did not give him credit for the good he
did, and made the most of his bad actions. Had he lived until the
present time, on the throne of France, the state of Europe would
probably have been twenty if not forty years in advance of what it
now is, in knowledge and arts, in civil and religious liberty. Those
who have succeeded to the now divided power, which his powerful arm
wielded, have laboured and still labour to hold the people back--to
repress the spirit of enterprise and improvement, and especially
repress and root out the spirit of freedom.




LETTER XI.


_October 5th, 1836._

We left Jaffa in the afternoon for Rumla, which lies about half way
from Jaffa to the commencement of the hill country, on the road
to Jerusalem--leaving the gate of Jaffa, (and I may add, there is
only one gate on the land side,) we took a north-east direction.
The point of land on which Jaffa stands, a kind of sandy knoll,
is higher than the country back of it. We of course made a small
descent, and for a considerable distance passed through gardens,
enclosed lots and fields, many of them well filled with trees, as
fig, orange, lemon, pomegranate, palm. The Indian fig was much used
for forming enclosures, and generally planted on a ridge of sand.
It makes a very good fence, as the prickles with which it abounds
prevent man or beast from coming much in contact with it. Some of
these gardens had wells and water-wheels, many of which were at
work, mostly with oxen, raising water for the benefit of the trees
and vegetables. There is much sand on the district that borders the
coast, and in many places directly on the coast the sand has fairly
taken possession--nothing is seen but fields of white sand.

At the distance of half a mile from the shore, the ground is very
little higher, I should think, than the surface of the water; and a
number of things indicate that this low district was once a marsh,
or at least much subjected to water. And now, in the rainy season,
much water would collect on it were it not for its loose and sandy
character, through which the water easily runs. The abundance of
water, found at a very little distance below the surface, may arise
from the fact that it is but little below the level of the sea; and
the sandy character of the district allows the water to percolate
freely, and thus supply what is taken up by man and vegetables.

It may be nine or ten miles from Jaffa to Rumla. The road is good;
it is over a plain, and except a little waving of the surface,
forming slight elevations and depressions, such as we often find on
the sea-coasts, and on the flat districts which border large rivers,
one would say it was level. These elevations suggest the idea
that the water may have once covered this plain; and in retiring
gradually from it, left those graceful elevations and depressions
which give a beautiful variety to its surface. But a small part,
after passing the gardens, was cultivated. From time to time we
passed portions that had been sown with grain--none of it, after
leaving the gardens, was enclosed--all lay open. We passed several
places where there were a few trees; they formed, however, but
little green spots on the face of this wide-spread and noble plain.
The greater part was destitute of verdure; the burning heats of
summer having burned up the grass; the crops, except an occasional
cotton field, being all gathered in. I think I saw no Indian corn,
although I had seen it on the Bokar, but of a very diminutive kind.
The cotton fields were few and small, and held out the promise of
but a light crop.

The plain is highly fertile, and if under proper cultivation would
yield largely. The soil is rich, deep, and very free from rock, at
least sufficiently so for all purposes of cultivation. We do not,
indeed, often meet with a finer district of land; but it is thinly
inhabited.

Rumla is a town of considerable size, and has some pretty good
houses. It stands on a slight elevation, and commands a fine view of
the plain out of which it rises. It is surrounded with gardens, many
of which are protected by hedges of the Indian fig. There are some
olive groves about the town; other fruit-trees, and the palm, are
also to be seen. Around the present town are ruins, walls, cisterns,
and other indications that the town was once spread over a much
larger space than it now covers. It is supposed to be the ancient
Arimathea mentioned in the New Testament, John xix. 38.

The ancient Lydda lies within a short distance of Rumla, not above
three or four miles; but I had not time to visit it, as my company
were urgent to proceed. It is, I am told, a poor village, and has
nothing to give it interest, unless it be the fact that is mentioned
of it in Acts, ix. 32, 38.

I ought to have mentioned respecting Rumla, that there is near the
town a very remarkable tower, old, and of a singular structure,
with some large apartments under ground connected with it. At what
time it was built, by whom, and for what purpose, is not now known:
probably, however, as a place of defence, and when built, the town
extended to, if not beyond it. The history of many things in these
regions is lost--irrecoverably lost--until that great day shall come
when the whole history of man shall pass in review, and all shall be
judged according to their works.

The American squadron left Jaffa only the day before we reached that
place. The commodore and a party of officers visited Jerusalem. A
large party spent a night at Rumla with the American consular agent,
and had made him a present of a large and beautiful flag, with a
notice of its presentation written on its border. If what was told
me at Jaffa be true, that some of the officers, on their return from
Jerusalem, rode from Jerusalem to Jaffa in five or six hours, it was
a matter-of-fact proof that the distance is less than the old books
of travel have stated. Ten hours was named at Jaffa as the usual
time--that would make thirty miles, at the usual mode of counting
three miles to the hour: this is probably the real distance.

We spent a Sabbath at Rumla; but as there was no Protestant worship,
and I could not have received much if any benefit from attending a
service in an unknown tongue, I remained in my room all day, and
found, although thus alone, that the Sabbath of the Lord is a most
wise and gracious appointment of Heaven for the benefit of man. He
needs times which may call his thoughts from worldly things, and
consecrate them more especially to God, and the things that relate
to the welfare of the soul. I have, therefore, whenever I could, in
travelling, rested on the Sabbath day, and found it good so to do.
In almost every step I take in this country I find myself on ground
referred to in Scripture; and it is with no little interest I walk
over places where the events recorded in God's word took place. But
even in those scenes I find it good to observe the Sabbath of the
Lord. I do not even go out to look at these places on the Sabbath:
the other six days may suffice for that. The Lord's day is better
spent as a day of rest and devotion.

We left Rumla on Monday morning for Jerusalem. Our course was still
a little south of east. The general character and condition of
the plain was much as the part of it already described, with the
difference that there was much less sand. Indeed there was little,
if any, to be seen--the soil was a fine, rich, black mould. The
state of cultivation was rather better, but still only a small part
was under the care of man. The country began more regularly to
rise as we approached the hill country. The rise was however very
gradual. Irregular and rounded hills became more numerous, but none
of them were steep. A road could pass over them in any direction;
they were rather pleasant swells than hills. More stones and pebbles
were mixed up with the soil, but not in quantities that would impede
cultivation. In truth, this part of the plain, that is from Rumla to
the hills, forms one of the richest and most lovely districts that
I have seen. We were above three hours in going from Rumla to the
hills, which would make the distance from Jaffa about eighteen or
twenty miles. The road however does not cross the plain at right
angles, but declined considerably to the south.

We passed no village worth naming. We did, indeed, pass a few huts
at one or two places, but too few to deserve notice. We passed
several places that appeared to have once been occupied, and saw
several villages at a distance, but they appeared small. In short,
the plain--the noble and celebrated plain of Sharon, appears to be
almost deserted; and while it has a fertility and extent, were it
occupied and properly cultivated, sufficient to sustain a nation,
it is now roamed over by a few flocks--has small patches of it
cultivated, and here and there a small, poor village to sustain.
With regard to trees, &c. the eastern part of the plain was on a
par with the western. It was only on little spots, and at a great
distance from each other, that a few olive and other trees were to
be seen. They were mostly confined to the immediate vicinity of the
villages, or where villages have once stood.

While passing over the plain of Sharon, it would have been out of
all propriety not to have thought of the rose of Sharon and the lily
of the valley. I did think of them, and was on the watch for them;
and so eager was I to get one, that could I have met with any sort
of a flower that would in any fair way have admitted the name, I
would most willingly have reported it, _but not one could I find_.
I consoled myself, however, with the thought, that I only shared
the disappointment which other travellers had experienced. For what
traveller in these regions has not sought the rose of Sharon, and
the lily of the valley? And what one has been able to assure and
satisfy the public that he has found them?

As we approached the hills, the face of the plain became more
uneven; the points of the ridges ran out irregularly, and more
rocks began to appear on the surface. The line of hills is however
more regular than is usual, and the transition from the plain to
the hills is more gradual than is usually found on the borders of
large plains. We passed over a low, rocky point of a ridge, and
saw some ruins; and at one place the large hewn stones and broken
pillars indicated buildings of some consequence. The hills are
not continuous ridges, but knobs, not very high, nor very steep;
the top rounded over. Many of them are separated from each other
almost to the base; but a greater number join at one or more sides,
at various heights from their bases. Taking the hollows, and the
passages between the hills, (and in some places there are little
level spots,) as the level of the country, I should say that the
general level, as we pass east, rises; and the height of the hills
above this general level, continues about the same for a great part
of the way from the commencement of the hills to near Jerusalem.
This district is well called the "hill country of Judea." Nothing
could better express it. They are usually in books called mountains;
but their size, that is their height above the general level of the
country, hardly entitles them to that appellation. They are rather
hills than mountains.

As we rode among the hills, we began to see a few small shrubs and
bushes of oak. Most of them, however, were small; few as high as a
man on horseback. There were also, at some places in the hollows,
where, during the rains, water flows, some bushes, thistles, and
other kinds of vegetation, but small of size and few in number. As
we passed farther in among the hills, the vegetation increased,
both as to size and quantity; it however never amounted to much.
We saw, from time to time, some orchards of olives, and a few
scattering trees; as we approached the higher part of the hilly
district, we saw some hills that were to some extent covered with
the olives. Still but a small, a very small part of the country
was thus made to minister to the wants and comfort of man. As we
advanced, the rock became more abundant; it was all limestone, mixed
in some places with veins of flint; usually horizontal, and often
projecting out on the sides of the hills, and much stratified; and
the various strata being of different degrees of firmness, causing
them to have a singular appearance. The soft stratum had in many
places disintegrated, and formed a stratum of earth, which entirely
concealed the rock; while the hard stratum formed a kind of wall,
and in many places, from its regularity in thickness and direction
round the side of the hill, it had much the appearance of having
been the work of man. In some places again, where a hard stratum
lay directly over a soft one, the crumbling away of the soft one
formed a kind of natural cave under the hard one; places could be
seen where a man might find shelter from the rain under rocks thus
hollowed out by the wearing away of a soft rock, while its more
sturdy fellow above held on to its proper size and shape. A ride
of between two and three hours, from the time we entered the hill
country, brought us to the higher part of the district. Our road
still lay along what may be called a hollow, and on each side of us
the hills rose to a considerable size.

We passed on this high district one or two villages. In one of
them were some pretty good houses, and an old ruin, which, from
its size and form, seemed once to have been a building of some
importance. The country around this village was in a better state
of cultivation; more trees, figs, and vines, than I had seen since
leaving Rumla. From a part of this high ground we had a most
extensive and fine view of the seabord; the deep black sea, till
where it met the sky; the white sand-hills along the shore, and the
wide and long plain of Sharon, extending as far as the eye could
reach, to the north and south, and coming up to the hilly district,
on the top of which we stood. The view was interesting, and
especially so when we thought how often the pious Israelites, when
going up to the house of the Lord, must have stopped at this place,
and looked back on that rich and lovely part of their inheritance.
The "flocks of Sharon" was a term which then expressed much; but now
few flocks feed there, and those of an inferior kind of cattle.

After taking this, as I supposed, farewell-look at the plain of
Sharon, the sea-bord, and wide-spread ocean behind it, we set
forward, and thought we must soon reach a point from which we could
see Jerusalem. We found, however, that we had to descend a hollow,
wind along it for some distance, and then a long ascent to make, to
gain about the same level from which we had taken our farewell-look
at the vale and sea behind us. Above half an hour must have been
spent in doing this. T

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