home, I never ride along this pretty beach, with the gamboling surf on one hand, tall tamarisks on the other, and the city before, without somewhat of that enthusiasm which glowed and burned within me twenty-three years ago, when first I drew near this venerable metropolis. As we are in no hurry, let me hear something about this home of yours this "mother of all the Phoenicians," before we enter it. She looks beautiful enough, sitting in the sea, and blushing with the warm, rosy light of the evening sun. Must I begin at "the beginning?" The story is long and old, and much is forgotten or mixed with fable. It starts off in this fashion. One morning, soon after the floodbut here comes a lad with golden oranges just gathered from Sidon's luxurious gardens. Let us buy them to give relish to our dusty narrative. Well, the great-grandson of Noah, emigrating westward when men were few and earth a wilderness, crept timidly round the low cape of Sarepta, and gazed earnestly on the plain that stretches this way along the shore. At length he moved forward, and pitched his tent on that castle-crowned Tell, which now overlooks the city. "Here," exclaimed the patriarch, "my wanderings cease. This mound shall be the stronghold of my future city. It meets my wants in all respects. The surface declines gently northward to the beach, where it falls back eastward, forming a little bay open to the north; and that line of low rocks, parallel with the shore, incloses a quiet basin for the ships I mean to build after the model of my grandfather's ark. That long, narrow island affords a secure retreat for the time of danger. This broad plain we will cover with orchards and gardens; and the water of yon limpid stream shall be made to visit, by a thousand rills, every tree, and shrub, and flower of our new paradise. The sea will yield her varied stores in such abundance, that the very art of fishing will take its name, said, from our metropolis; while over these eastern hills our sons will hunt the boar and fleet gazelle, or snare the feathered fowl, to increase our stores and enrich our feasts." The venerable patriarch did not live to see all his prophetic anticipations realized. Sidon, however, soon grew great. Her walls towered high, and were drawn with an ample compass, embracing an area many times larger than the present city. Her harbor was crowded with merry mariners from every coast, and caravans filled her magazines with the treasures and luxuries of the distant East. None dared molest her, so that to live carelessly, after the manner of the Zidonians,' became the proverbial synonym of perfect prosperity. Even Joshua ventured not to attack her; and the flying nations found a safe asylum from his devouring sword within her gates. Her merchant ships sailed over every sea. She built strong cities along the shore-Beirût, and Gebal, and Arvad, and Accho, and Dor, and many more. She planted colonies in Cyprus and the Grecian Isles, in Libya and in Spain, while by her side she nourished her fair daughter Tyre, until, like England's modern daughter, she overgrew and quite eclipsed the mother. Then began her long and sad decline. The streams of her prosperity were dried up or diverted. The proud Pharaohs from the Nile-the stern Assyrian from distant Nineveh-the cruel Chaldean and Persian from Babylon-the rough he-goat from Grecia, and the king of fierce countenance from the Tiber, all helped to lay poor Sidon in the dust. And, long after, those locusts which came out of the bottomless pit, with Apollyon at their head, completed the work during those dismal days when men sought death but could not find it. And yet Sidon still exists, and has always clung to life with a strange tenacity. Her history runs parallel with the march of time, down the ceaseless current of human generations. Not so Tyre. Long ages have rolled away since continental Tyre sunk beneath the "burden" of prophecy, and the very site where she stood was lost; and there are men yet living who remember when the boar was roused from his lair among the thorns and briers of even insular Tyre. But here we are at the gate of our good city, and in a few minutes we shall be in our own hired house, on the wall from whence you can survey at your leisure what remains of Sidon's ruins, and that about her which never can be ruined even by Mohammedan despotism. 1 Judg. xviii. 7. 2 Josh. xi. 8. STORM-VARIABLE CLIMATE. 129 VIII. SIDON. January 30th, 1857. WE were not mistaken. The storm predicted is upon us in all its majesty, and we shall not get away from Sidon until it has spent its fury. Contrary to all my previous ideas, I find your climate extremely variable and uncertain. There seems to be no fixed time for the commencement of the winter rains, nor is it much more certain when they will cease. That is quite true. I have seen these rains begin early in November and end in February; but they are sometimes delayed until January, and prolonged into May. I was once held prisoner in a wretched khan on Lebanon for two days by a storm which commenced on the 6th of May. Fresh snow generally falls on the heights of Lebanon and Hermon in November, but I have crossed over Jebel es Sheikh late in December when there was none. It ordinarily disappears, except from sheltered ravines, early in April; and yet the mountain-tops are sometimes covered with fresh snow late in May. These are, indeed, great variations, and they subject the farmer to much uncertainty and many losses. All kinds of crops, including silk, fail more frequently in Syria and Palestine than in America. This has always been the case; and the failure is also more complete and ruinous, and hence we so often read in the Bible of sore famines in this country. May not these facts give greater point and significancy to those agricultural promises (if one may employ such language) in which regularity in the rains and certainty in the crops were guaranteed to Israel on condition of faithful obedience? No doubt; and it is worthy of remark that, to this day, the people of every class, faith, and character familiarly and constantly ascribe regular and abundant rains, fruitful seasons, and good harvests to the direct agency and interposition of God. This formal and devout recognition strikes a stranger from America as indicating a high degree of pious sentiment, but he soon perceives that it is merely the stereotyped idiom of daily conversation, and has very little connection with the heart. Still, this style of remark has its origin in a deep sense of uncertainty, and of entire dependence for their daily bread upon the showers of heaven, delayed nearly every year until much painful solicitude is felt by all classes. Very often there is a universal cry from man, beast, and bird, and burning sky, and drooping fields, ere the Lord hears the heavens, and they hear the earth, and the earth hears the corn, and the wine, and the oil.1 I have seen several instances in which Moslems, Christians, and Jews have united in fasts, processions, and prayers in the open air for the showers that water the earth. On one occasion, the pasha, attended by all the principal men of Beirût, went forth in procession, and, among other acts, the great man held the plow with his own hands, as a public acknowledgment of dependence upon the fruits of the field, and the blessing of the Lord upon the labor of the ox. There is no occasion for such ceremonies at present. How long may this wild storm last? To judge from ordinary indications, it may continue ten days at least, possibly twenty. Indeed! And what may these indications be? It is not easy to give a tangible shape to some of them, which yet have much to do in producing the impression on the mind of one initiated, by long experience, into the mysteries of Syrian weather. In the first place, we must not forget that this is the time for heavy storms, especially if the season has been hitherto warm and dry, as this has been. Great rains are now needed to start the fountains and saturate the earth to the deepest roots of the trees. Without this, no season can be truly prosperous in this country, because a large part of the produce is gathered from the olive, the mulberry, the fig, the walnut, the and other fruit and nut bearing trees. fore in season, and to be expected. obviously been gathering for several days past, and its dura 1 Hosea ii. 21, 22. apricot, the orange, Long rains are thereThen, this storm has STORMS-CHARACTERISTICS. 131 tion generally corresponds to the time spent in coming on. Again, the wind is full and strong from the proper rain quarter-the southwest-and while it holds to that point the storm will continue. It will not clear until the wind shifts round toward the north, which it is often slow to do, and will not now till the air becomes colder, and Lebanon is covered deep with snow. As in ancient times, the west wind brings rain, and the north drives it away. There is also a somewhat in the thickness and color of the clouds which speaks to the eye of experience; and see how low they fly, tearing their garments to tatters on the rocky crags of Jebel Rehân, and trailing their soiled skirts in the mire. "There's not a cloud on all the plain But tells of storm to come or past; Of a young war-horse in the blast; There will be no fair weather until they sail clear of the loftiest peaks of Lebanon. The sea, too, by its hoarse and heavy roar, warns the mariner to lower his topmasts, double his anchors, and make all tight for a long and hard gale; and even those stupid gulls, careering on the blast far inland, add their testimony to the general voice of nature. Depend upon it, we are in for a genuine winter storm, and may congratulate ourselves on having reached this snug harbor before it began. Nor need the time pass idly away. Here are books to consult; and friends, both Frank and native, from whom you can glean many a valuable hint for future use; so "wrap the garment of patience around you," and let it rain. There will be intermissions, however (for no storm in this country is without them), during which we may run about the city and its environs; and in the evenings we shall have reunions of friends, in which all sorts of subjects are discussed. You will thus be in a fine school of manners-Oriental I mean, and may learn more of the 1 Luke xii. 54; Prov. xxv. 23. |