A WALLED PATH-CUSTOM-HOUSE.

ours,

"had

47

laam.

to the left remove thy foot from evil." 1 Do so now, lest you commence our CHAPTER journey with a practical "illustration," which will associate your name with V. Balaam and his much-abused ass. His path, like a wall on this A walled side and a wall on that;" the angel with drawn sword was in front, and the path Bapoor beast thrust herself against the wall and crushed the prophet's foot.2 Now this file of donkeys, with rough stone from the quarries on their backs, completely blocks up this narrow way, and if you attempt to force your horse past them, either on the right or the left, you will also meet with a crushed foot.

That is a fact so obvious that the dumb ass, if it could speak with man's voice as Balaam's did, might rebuke the madness of the attempt. But what are we to do?

Retreat to the next side-alley, and let them pass. These stone-carrying donkeys are a great nuisance; but we are free from them at last, and you will not encounter a similar annoyance in all Syria, nor meet an equally patent illustration of Balaam's misfortune.

I shall not soon forget it. These crooked, narrow paths through the Narrow gardens of Beirût do indeed require one to observe the wise man's directions paths. most closely. Only a few feet wide, with high walls on either side, and overshadowed by the rough arms and thorny palms of the prickly pear, the rider must keep wide awake, or he will find his face transfixed with the sharp spikes of the one, or his foot crushed against the other. I was stooping to avoid the first, when your timely warning saved me from the second.

The almanac tells me that this is the 28th of January, and yet the air is warm and bland as May. This old world and her ways are to me emphatically new. Those tall pines, with their parasol canopies spread out along the sky, are both new and beautiful; and how surpassingly glorious and majestic does Lebanon appear through and beyond them!

Those old trees were planted by Fakhr et Deen, and there are but few of them left. I saw that pretty wood beneath them sowed by Mahmood Beg, the governor of Beirût, twenty years ago. The smallest are only two years old. Half a century hence, the tourist will here find the fairest grove in Syria. This low, flat-roofed house on our right is a native khân—inn, or, if you please, A khân. hotel-much like those of ancient times, I suppose. We shall have some future occasion to test the accommodation which these Arab institutions offer to man and beast. Here is the guard of the custom-house, and you may as Customwell return his polite salâm. These gentlemen are obliging or otherwise, according to circumstances. On a former occasion, one of them seized my bridle, and rudely demanded my passport. I replied that it was not customary for residents in the country to carry such documents, and that I had it not with me. This did not satisfy him. He ordered me back, swearing roundly that he would not let the Grand Vizier himself pass without his tazcara.

house.

PART

I.

After he had swaggered himself tired, I told him I had lived twenty years in this country, and knew the regulations of government better than he did; that no order applicable to Franks was ever issued without official notice of the Bullying strangers same being communicated to the consuls; and that, as no such notification in regard to passports had been made, I would not conform to it except by force. If he turned me back, I should lodge a complaint against him with the consul, who would hold him responsible for all damages. He immediately lowered his tone, bade me go in peace, and say nothing more about the matter. I did so, and have never been annoyed with a similar demand from that day to this. He had mistaken me for a stranger, and expected to extort a bakshish.

Road to

It is nine hours, you say, from Beirût to Sidon?

About twenty-seven miles, and takes six, eight, or ten hours, according to the rate of travel. But as our object is to study the land and its customs, or rather to peruse the Word of God by the light which these shed upon it, we shall pay very little attention to the hours, stages, and stations of ordinary tourists.

This suits the main purpose of my visit precisely. I have no great fondness for mere sight-seeing, and much prefer to gather instruction from the works and ways, the manners and customs of the living, than to grope for it amid the rotten ruins of the dead.

Doubtless the former is the richer field, at least in Palestine, but both should be carefully explored. In the meanwhile, turn a little to the left. The direct road to Sidon leads over a sandy desert, fatiguing to both the horse and his rider. The path we take lies along the eastern margin of it, through mulberry orchards and olive groves, with which we may hold pleasant and profitable converse as we pass. This broad track through the centre of the Damascus. pine forest is the sultan's highway to Damascus. You can see it yonder to the south-east, winding up the face of Lebanon.-When but a few days old in the country, I made trial of it, and was astonished beyond measure to find that such a villanous path was a road to anywhere, and, most of all, that it was the road par excellence between Beirût and Syria's celebrated capital.

Palm

trees.

Look now at those stately palm-trees, which stand here and there on the plain, like military sentinels, with feathery plumes nodding gracefully on their proud heads. The stem, tall, slender, and erect as Rectitude herself, suggests to the Arab poets many a symbol for their lady-love; and Solomon, long before them, has sung, "How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights! this thy stature is like the palm-tree." 1

Yes; and Solomon's father says, "The righteous shall flourish like the palmtree. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall bring forth fruit in old age."

The royal poet has derived more than one figure from the customs of men, CHAPTER and the habits of this noble tree, with which to adorn his sacred ode. The V. palm grows slowly, but steadily, from century to century, uninfluenced by The palm those alternations of the seasons which affect other trees. It does not rejoice overmuch in winter's copious rain, nor does it droop under the drought and the burning sun of summer. Neither heavy weights which men place upon its

head, nor the importunate urgency of the wind, can sway it aside from perfect uprightness. There it stands, looking calmly down upon the world below, and Its uppatiently yielding its large clusters of golden fruit from generation to genera- rightness. tion. They bring forth fruit in old age. The allusion to being planted in the house of the Lord is probably drawn from the custom of planting beautitiful and long-lived trees in the courts of temples and palaces, and in all Fruit in high places" used for worship. This is still common; nearly every palace, and mosque, and convent in the country has such trees in the courts, and, being well protected there, they flourish exceedingly. Solomon covered all the

old age.

walls of the "Holy of Holies" 1 round about with palm-trees. They were thus planted, as it were, within the very house of the Lord; and their presence there was not only ornamental, but appropriate and highly suggestive; the very best emblem, not only of patience in well-doing, but of the rewards of the righteous-a fat and flourishing old age-a peaceful end-a glorious immortality. The Jews used palm branches as emblems of victory in their seasons of rejoicing;2 and Christians do the same on Palm Sunday, in commemoration of our Saviour's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. They are often woven into an arch, and placed over the head of the bier which carries man to his "long home," and speak sweetly of victory and eternal life. We shall meet this striking and beautiful tree all along our journey, everywhere repeating, as an old friend, the same lessons of piety and encouragement.

The raven.

CLUSTER OF DATES.

What large black birds are those which fly furiously across the horizon, as if driven by some interior impulse of despair?

The raven. Austere bird of ill omen! I never hear its harsh croak, or see it hurrying hither and thither, as if it could not rest, without thinking of Noah and the ark on Ararat. He sent forth this uneasy bird, which went to and fro until the waters were dried up, and never again sought safety or repose by returning to the ark. Sad emblem of those who fly from the

true Ark, and only refuge against that other deluge which shall drown the ungodly in everlasting destruction !

And now we are entering the vast olive-orchards of Shwoifat. See! our noisy approach has frightened a timid dove from the midst of that fine old tree.

The dove and the olive! another association to remind us of the ark, and the second father of mankind. Who can see the dove sitting in this tree without thinking of that

evening when she re

turned to the ark, "and,

lo! in her mouth was an olive-leaf plucked off?"

RAVEN.

Mute messenger from the The dove.

world below, by which Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth.

The olive-tree, its fruit and oil, must have been known before the deluge, but whether the dove and the branch were emblems of peace and good-will by previous custom, or whether the hint was taken from this transaction, I shall not attempt to determine. The tradition among the Greeks that the first olive-branch that reached their country was carried by a dove from Phonicia to the temple of Jupiter in Epirus, is certainly very remarkable. The connection of the dove with the olive, however, is quite natural. These groves are their favourite resort. In them they build their nests and rear their young, and there may be heard all day long their low, soft cooing, in sweet unison with the breeze which whispers peace to the troubled and repose to the weary.

Gon. viii. 11.

DOVE.

The olivebranch.