in presence of their mutual friends; or a priest perhaps pays a friendly visit, with his dark robes and black turban, and the simple and social people continue in animated talk until the muezzin's call from the minarets announces the hour of prayer to the Moslem, and of retirement to these Christians. While time thus passes with our hosts, we are rigidly confined to our upper-story, except when, once a-day, we take a short walk, accompanied by our guardiano, who announces to every one he meets that we are unclean! This calumniation only means that we are in quarantine, and people shun us accordingly, yet never seem to think it unreasonable that such dirty fellows should be allowed to go so much at large. Our terraces commanded a splendid view-all city, or garden, or grove, or sea, except where the Lebanon mountains started up in every variety of form and beauty that mountains can assume: here broken by deep glens, there mantled with vivid verdure; here a precipice was crowned by a Maronite village, or a convent, there a stream gushed in silver cataract from among dark wood; beneath ran a line of golden sands fringed with foam, and, above, the snow lay in streaks, flecking the broken summits. Our cottage was near the water's edge; and, when my companions were asleep, and the household beneath us was still, even to the watchdog, it was pleasant to sit in the moonlight looking out upon the quiet groves and the calm sea. Now and then the silence was broken by the fishermen who spread their nets along the shore, or the lingering steps of some white-veiled girl and her turbaner lover, whispering in all languages the nonsense that is eloquent, when uttered by the lips we love. One day I was agreeably surprised by a visit from the Rev. Dr. Wilson, President of the Bombay Branch of the Asiatic Society. I had had the pleasure of making his valuable acquaintance at Cairo, and I now listened, with great interest, to the account of his journey to Petra and Jerusalem, which I had been prevented from sharing, to my great regret. He said that his Arabs, the Towara, had behaved very ill and extortionately, during his jour ney from Mount Sinai to Wady Mousa ; while the calumniated people of the latter place, in which lies Petra, had quite redeemed their character in his estimation. He had made considerable ef forts to become acquainted with them, and found them very fair in their demands, and at least as well-disposed to be honest, as the other Arabs of the desert. They complained to him that the Towara, Alloeens, and other tribes, were in the habit of bringing strangers to their valleys; that they came as enemies, eating down their corn, drinking of their wells, and departing without giving them any remuneration. They added that he, and any other Frank travellers, might come as often as they pleased, and stay as long as they chose, if they only paid the moderate sum of 100 piastres* for each visitor. They also told him of a tradition in their tribe, that they were of Jewish not Arabian blood, and that they had been converted many years ago to Mahometanism. This is an interesting statement as illustrative of the fulfilment of the prophecy, that "a remnant of Israel should inhabit Edom." Dr. Wilson made a more satisfactory report of the state of the Church of England Mission at Jerusalem, than I had yet At Nablous, the Shechem of the Bible, and Neapolis of the Romans, he found the Samaritans still anxiously expecting the Messiah, whom they call "El Muhdy, the guide." They ingeniously explain their limited prophecies to suit their own views, and assert that the "Shiloh who was come” meant only Solomon. Close to this city is Mount Gerizim, whither they still go up to worship four times a year; and at the end of the valley is the well called Jacob's, by Moslem and Jewish tradition, and that where our Saviour conversed with the woman of Samaria, according to the Christians. The Jews of Nablous appeared very jealous of the Samaritans; but both parties listened patiently and attentively to Dr. Wilson's arguments. He found Saphet almost in ruins from the earthquake of 1837, in which 300 Moslems and 2,000 Jews perished; and Cæsarea in the same state of dilapidation from the same cause. I have taken the liberty of repeating these observations, as I was myself prevented from visiting these places in my tour through Palestine. The next morning was May-day: I sat at my window waiting for the first sun-burst over the beautiful bay; the moment it appeared, all the spars of the French fleet, until then as bare as * About £1. winter-boughs, blossomed suddenly into flags of every colour: it was Louis Philippe's birthday,-a royal salute followed; and the garlands of flags, appearing through the clouds of smoke lighted up by the rising sun, produced a beautiful effect. We had now performed our quarantines; the surgeon of the Lazaretto and some health-officers came to inspect us, and declared us free. I confess I was almost sorry to leave our cottage and my fair friends below, with and without horns; yet, as I stepped into the boat which was to transport me across the bay, I felt the elasticity of restored freedom compensate for everything else. Merrily we swept across that beautiful bay. The picturesque town sent forth its voices faintly on the water; boats shot backwards and forwards to the shipping, pulled by turbaned and bearded men; and, here and there, a solitary fisherman sat plying his silent but absorbing trade. We landed about a mile beyond the town on some rocks nearly level with the tideless sea, and showing numerous traces of the ancient city of Berytus. I had taken apartments in a house belonging to a Maltese, named Antonio Bianchi, whose present establishment I can safely recommend to travellers. He then lived in an old-fashioned Syrian house, surrounded by mulberry gardens, which were intersected by paths fenced off by impenetrable barriers of the cactus, or Indian fig. This plant abounds everywhere, and not only protects, but shadows all the lanes, commonly attaining to the height of twelve or eighteen feet. I found there was a table d'hôte at this establishment; the principal guests of which were four queer-looking beings, each of whose histories would have furnished a romance, and each of their figures a striking frontispiece to the same. One was an old soldier of Napoleon's, now a silk-merchant; a second a captain of an Italian pirate or smuggler; a third an expatriated Tyrolese; a fourth a young Italian of very irregular habits. Besides these, two swallows are inmates of the house, nesting in the rafters of the open room; there is a pair of tame pigeons, a broken-winged woodpecker with parrot-like plumage, an ill-tempered poodle, a drunken landlady with a pretty daughter, and a couple of cats. I was obliged to remain here for some days, until a neighbouring cottage was ready for my reception; and I found full amusement from the queer inhabitants within, and the glorious scenery without. Moreover, there is a silkworm-shed under my bed-room window, belonging to the beautiful Kareela, a Maronite bride, who glides about through the groves of mulberries watching her silkworms, with a thin white veil over her graceful form; or, sometimes she sits upon the bank, embroidering the rich golden tapestries peculiar to Beyrout. CHAPTER II. SYRIAN SCENERY. Now upon Syria's land of roses And whitens with eternal sleet, Lies sleeping rosy at his feet. MOORE. AFTER a few days' residence with Bianchi, I removed to a cottage nearer to the sea, and farther from the town. It belonged to a Maltese, who had been formerly a waiter at the Travellers' Club, in London, and who now supplied my simple ménage with as much neatness and elegance as if my dining-room looked out upon Pall Mall. Far different, however, was the view: that which I now beheld is perhaps the finest in the world. Come out to the terrace whereon a tent is pitched, and rest upon soft carpets in its shade; while Trimseni lights your chibouque, and Raswan offers you a cup of Mocha coffee perfumed with ambergris. From the rich gardens all round us rise numbers of flat-roofed cottages; and, as the sun is low, their gaily-dressed inhabitants come forth to breathe the cool breezes, and enjoy their pipes and coffee. There is a joyous, and almost a festive, look, in all around us; the acacia blossoms are dancing in the breeze, the palms are waving salutations, and the flowers are flirting with one another in blushes and perfumed whisperings: the faint plash of the wave is echoed from the rocks; the hum of the distant city is broken by the rattle of the drum, and pierced by the fife with its wild Turkish music; flocks of pigeons rustle through the |