guns. The existence of such a magnificent work as this in the midst of a country now without roads, and without one indication of enterprise or architectural skill, is an affecting commentary on the height from which Syria has fallen, and the depth of the degradation it has reached. O LVIII. ON THE WAY TO DAMASCUS. March 22. VISITING the walls of the old citadel in Banias this morning, I was much impressed with the natural beauty of the place, which the Roman conqueror of Jerusalem so soon recognized and improved. From the fine gateway, just at the bridge which crosses the river that comes down from the mountain ravine above the town, there is an enchanting view up the bed of the rushing, foaming stream, nobler in its violence and copiousness than any White Mountain torrent, and equal to the finest Swiss. The mountains recede in overlapping shoulders, giving all those beautiful middle distances that add to the charm of prospects; and here alone in the Holy Land may one see enough and a sufficient variety of foliage to satisfy one accustomed to American woods and verdure. We took our horses at 8 A.M., Sunday though it was, to ride a short stage on our journey, knowing that fifteen miles north, at Hasbeya, was a missionary station of the American Board, where we might perhaps join in the afternoon worship. We had food enough for serious and worshipful thoughts, as our road lay among the beautiful springs which are the noble sources of the Jordan. No river has a purer or more inspiring parentage. From at least four great springs, within twenty miles of each other, it bursts out of the earth as Minerva came from the head of Jove, full-grown and arm Rose of Sharon. 357 ed. The vigor, freshness, and life of the senew-born streams is something delightful to contemplate in a country where every thing else is so stagnant. The affluents bound and leap with gladness and pride, as if they knew their destiny, and rejoiced in offering their youth and fullness to the sacred. river. We found a very bad road as we climbed the mountains skirting about Hermon, whose melting snows did not improve our track. Merom was in view behind us all the way, the country sloping rapidly down the Jordan valley, and having a look as if it were going to drop behind the lake into the great gorge which actually descends to the Dead Sea. We stopped to take our luncheon by the brook-side of the affluent known as the Hasbeya, which flows from a copious fountain a few miles to the north. The green sward was spotted with the rich red flower of the anemone species, perhaps the Rose of Sharon, which so universally brightens the fields and mountains of Palestine and Syria, and which the Christian peasants have a tradition originally sprung from the drops of Christ's blood. I jotted down the following simple lines as we lay upon the grass, in commemoration of this innocent superstition : [On the banks of the Jordan, Sunday noon, March 22.] There is a ruby flower that blows Or Sharon's plains unfold. Not Solomon in all his pride As the green fields or mountain side, They sparkle with the morning's dew, Their blushes have a lustre new When the bright day is done. When our dear Lord his wounded side Emptied on Zion's ground, The winds caught up the precious tide From every drop a flower sprung up, Full of that sacred flood. So the sweet truth by Jesus taught, In each believing heart there grows One healing plant of God, An offshoot from sweet Sharon's rose, At 3 P.M. we reached Hasbeya, or rather the campingground at the foot of the lofty amphitheatre in whose upper tiers the town is built, almost inaccessible to any thing but a gazelle or a donkey, but which our Arab horses, with their amazing sure-footedness and agility, scaled in spite of its ladder of loose stones. It is a most picturesque position, and the history of the town justifies its builders in striving to put it out of harm's way, and in a position easily defended, vain as their well-directed efforts proved. For within ten years seven hundred of its Christian population were massacred by the Druses in that war of extermination which they waged against their rivals of another faith. In the family of the native pastor of the Christian Protestant church founded here by Mrs. Thomson in 1861, we found two young native women who had been taught English in the missionary schools at Beyrout, one of whom had lost her father, the other her brother, in that horrid slaughter. The town was surrounded by thousands of armed Druses, the people surprised and driven to A Christian Service in Arabic. 359 their houses, where they were besieged and finally killed with the knives of an overpowering enemy, who murdered the unresisting as well as their active opponents. The town, then a large, flourishing place, has never recovered from the ravage it suffered by fire and sword during the week when it lay at the mercy of the merciless foe. There are, perhaps, five hundred Christians here, Maronites, Greeks, and Protestants, and perhaps a thousand Moslems and Druses. There were five times as many of both before the massacre, but they have scattered in horror of a spot made so tragical. The Protestant church is quite a substantial and pretty building for this region. We obeyed the summons of the bell, and attended the Arabic service. There were about forty men and twenty women present, separated, as in this country is common in all mosques, synagogues, and churches, Catholic, Greek, or Protestant, usually by some substantial partition, but in this case by a curtain, running down the centre aisle. The preacher had on the national dress, including a tarboosh, with a handkerchief bound over the crown and ears, a loose dark wrapper and Turkish trowsers, beneath which his bare legs showed above his low stockings of some kind of carpet-stuff. He read the Scriptures and commented upon them for some time, with much simplicity and seriousness of manner, but in a way unintelligible to us. His Sunday-school had seventeen bright children in it, whom he catechized, and who showed a readiness in their answers which was very encouraging. There are schools connected with these missions, in which English, French, and Arabic are taught. The policy of taking competent native converts as missionaries is an excellent They are visited once a month by an American missionary from Sidon, who marks their progress and keeps them on the right track. I have been greatly pleased with all I one. |