high above its terraced roofs rise the splendid the mountains of Israel, their rounded tops

ruins of England's patron saint. Lydda, tradition says, was the native place of St. George; and England's chivalrous king, the lionhearted Richard, built in his honour this noble church, the ruins of which now form the chief attraction of Ludd. The walls and part of the groined roof of the chancel still remain, and also one lofty pointed arch, with its massive clustered columns and white marble capitals, rich in carving and fret-work.

now tinged with the ruddy evening light; and the deep purple shadows of their ravines throwing out in bold relief the old ruined cities and modern villages that crown nearly all the projecting cliffs. On the south a swell in the plain concealed Philistia; but that swell was clothed with the orchards of Ramleh, whose tapering minarets and tall white tower shoot up from the midst of the dense foliage. On the west, beyond the gardens, there was first a stretch of brown sandy plain; then a narrow dark belt traced by the orange groves of Joppa; and then the Mediterranean, gleaming like a mirror of burnished gold beneath the setting sun.

On Monday morning, before the sun had yet risen over Judah's hills, we were all in the saddle, following a gay trooper, bristling with arms, along the broad sandy road to Philistia. Selim, our new companion, was to fill the double post of guide and guard: and he was admirably qualified for office; for he knew the name of every village, fountain, and wady between Ramleh and Gaza; and he was on terms of close friendship with all the bandits in the province. Our route was at first dreary enough, traversing bleak downs of brown sand, over which a few flocks of sheep and goats followed their shepherds, apparently bound for better pastures. But the morning, as usual, was bright and beautiful, the air fresh and exhilarating, and Selim full of tales of border raids, and old traditions about Samson and Jalûd (Goliath); so we got on cheerily. An hour's ride brought us to the top of the swell which separates Sharon from Philistia. The latter plain now opened up before us, rolling away to the southern horizon in grace

We climbed to the top of the crumbling wall, and there sat down to read the story of Peter's visit to this place (Acts ix. 32-39). The whole village was in full view, and the great plain around it. Peter was away on one of his missionary tours in the hill country of Samaria, "and he came down also to the saints which dwelt at Lydda." He came down through the defiles of those mountains, and across that broad rich plain of Sharon, or "Saron," and up the gentle ascent to this old town. The saints met him as he entered, and told him of the sufferings of poor paralytic Eneas; and the scene then enacted at his bedside was such as the people had never before witnessed. "Peter said unto him, Eneas, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole; arise and make thy bed. And he arose immediately." As the words reached his ears, divine power operated on his body. The wondrous tidings sped from mouth to mouth, from group to group, from town to country. All eagerly inquired; some probably at first doubted, but when they saw the healed paralytic, faith triumphed, and "all that dwelt in Lydda and Saron turned to the Lord." The joyful news soon found its way to Joppa, ten miles distant; and then the mourning friends of the charitable Tabitha despatched quick messengers to tell Peter of her death, half | ful undulations, clothed with a rich mantle of hoping that even she might not be beyond the green and gold-harvest-field and pasturereach of his power. Peter delayed not, but land. Ruins were visible everywhere; but set out across that western plain on another the villages were few, small, and far between. journey of mercy. The distant hill-sides were more thickly As we looked from our commanding posi-studded with them; and Selim told us that tion over that wide landscape, we could not but admit that there was a charm in it independent of all its hallowed associations. It was one of those views which, like a picture by Claude, never pass from the memory. On the north lay the vast plain of Sharon, variegated with green meadows and yellow cornfields; for, though only the end of April, the fields were 66 already white to the harvest." In the far distance we could just distinguish the pale blue summits of Carmel. On the east the view was bounded by the long range of

though, like the old Danites, the people lived there for security, their possessions and crops were chiefly in the plain.

THE DRUSES.

(FROM "THE GIANT CITIES OF BASHAN.") The Druses are a remarkable people. Their religion is a mystery; their manners are simple and patriarchal; their union and courage are

is always on the hearth; a kid or lamb-representative of the old "fatted calf”—is at hand, and can be "got ready" with all the despatch of ancient days. Food for servants, "provender" for horses, accommodation for all, are given as matters of course. In travel

ried back to the days when the patriarchs sat in their tent-doors, ready to welcome every visitor and hail every passer-by.

proverbial; and though small in number they form the most powerful party in Syria. Whenever danger threatens, or whenever they find it expedient to resist the demands or exactions of the Porte, they congregate in the Haurân, and no force has ever been found sufficient to dislodge or subdue them. Here ling through Bashan one fancies himself carthey defied Ibrahim Pasha, and destroyed the flower of the Egyptian army; here they have once and again defeated the Turkish troops, and driven them back with disgrace to the very walls of Damascus. Physically they are the finest race in Western Asia-tall, stalwart, hardy mountaineers. Accustomed from childhood to vigorous exercise, and trained in athletic sports and the use of arms, they form a body of brave and daring "irregulars," such as the world could scarcely match. But the grand secret of their power is their union. They act together as one man. Brotherly union in peace and war, in prosperity and adversity, is the chief article of their religious creed. As regards religion, they are divided into two classes, the Initiated and the Ignorant. With the former the rites, ceremonies, and doctrines remain a profound secret. The holy books are preserved and read by them alone. They assemble in chapels every Thursday evening, refusing admission to all others. What they do then and there is unknown; but there is reason to believe that these meetings are quite as much of a political as a religious character.

The Druse sheikhs form a hereditary nobility, and preserve with great tenacity all the pride and state of their order. They receive and entertain travellers with profuse hospitality, and no compensation in money can be offered to them. To strangers, under ordinary circumstances, they are obliging, communicative, and faithful. In time of peace they are industrious and courteous; but in war they are noted alike for daring courage and unsparing ferocity. When among this strange and primitive people in Bashan, I felt at once that I was out of the beaten track of tourists, where one can pitch his tent, picket his horses, cook his provisions, and march again, caring for nobody, and nobody caring for him. Here all is different. We are among a people of patriarchal manners and genuine patriarchal hospitality. We were looked on and treated as welcome guests. We could not pass town or village without being entreated to accept hospitality. "Will not my lord descend while his servants prepare a little food?" is the urgent language of every village sheikh. The coffee

VOL. IV.

On one of the southern peaks of the mountain range, some two thousand feet above the vale of Kerioth, stands the town of Hebrân. Its shattered walls and houses looked exceedingly picturesque, as we wound up a deep ravine, shooting out far overhead from among the tufted foliage of the evergreen oak. Our little cavalcade was seen approaching, and ere we reached the brow of the hill the whole population had come out to meet and welcome us. The sheikh, a noble-looking young Druse, had already sent a man to bring a kid from the nearest flock to make a feast for us, and we saw him bounding away through an opening in the forest. He returned in half an hour with the kid on his shoulder. We assured the hospitable sheikh that it was impossible for us to remain. Our servants were already far away over the plain, and we had a long journey before us. He would listen to no excuse. The feast must be prepared. "My lord could not pass by his servant's house without honouring him by eating a morsel of bread, and partaking of the kid which is being made ready. The sun is high; the day is long; rest for a time under my roof; eat and drink, and then pass on in peace." There was so much of the true spirit of patriarchal hospitality here, so much that recalled to mind scenes in the life of Abraham (Gen. xviii. 2), and Manoah (Judges xiii. 15), and other Scripture celebrities, that we found it hard to refuse. Time pressed, however, and we were reluctantly compelled to leave before the kid was served.

EASTERN POLITENESS.

(FROM "HAND-BOOK FOR SYRIA AND PALESTINE.")

The inhabitants of Syria and Palestine form a most interesting study. Their dress, their manners and customs, and their language, are all primitive. No European nation, with the exception perhaps of the Spaniards, bears the

77

house or by the wayside, however poor and scanty may be his fare, never neglects to invite the visitor, or passing wayfarer, to join him. And this is not always an empty compliment; indeed there are few Arabs who will not feel honoured by the traveller's tasting their humble fare. The invitation, however, is generally declined by a set courteous phrase. The word of invitation is invariably tefuddhel, the multifarious meaning of which I can only interpret by the Italian favorisca. The complimentary declinature is, Ullah yezid fudhlak, "May God increase your bounty." In passing his house, too, in company with a stranger, the Arab will always invite him in by the same tefuddhel; and in presenting coffee, sherbet, fruit, or any other delicacy, the same word is used-in fact, with the exception of bakhshish, it is the most common and expressive word in the Arabic language.

least resemblance to them. Like Spain, too, | Syria. An Arab when eating, whether in the the best specimens of humanity are here found among the lower classes. The farther we go from the contaminated atmosphere of government offices, the more successful shall we be in our search after honesty, industry, and genuine patriarchal hospitality-the great, almost the only unadulterated virtue of the Arab. They are illiterate, of course, and extremely ignorant of all Frank inventions; but still there is a native dignity in their address and deportment, which will both please and astonish those who have seen the awkward vulgarity of the lower classes in some more favoured lands. Whether we enter the tent of the Bedawy cr the cottage of the fellah, we are received and welcomed with an ease and courtesy that would not disgrace a palace. The modes of salutation are very formal-perhaps some would call them verbose and even tedious. One is apt to imagine, on hearing the long series of reiterated inquiries after the health, happiness, and prosperity of the visitor who drops in, and the evasive replies given, that there is surely some hidden grief, some secret malady, which his politeness would fain conceal, but which the heartfelt sympathy of the host constrains him to search into. It is disappointing to discover, as every one will in time discover, that this is all form; and that the "thousand and one" keif keifaks? and keif khâtĕraks? and keif hâl suhhětaks? and inshallah mabsuts? and the equally numerous, but not very satisfactory responses of, Ullah yusallěmak, Ullah yusallem khátěrak, Ullah yahfuzak, Ullah yutawwel 'umrak-are all phrases which mean nothing, so far as the feelings of those who use them are concerned. Still there is something pleasing in these inquiries, compliments, and good wishes, empty though they be. The gestures used in salutation are also graceful, if a little complicated. The touching of the heart, the lips, and the forehead with the right hand, seems to say that each one thus saluted is cherished in the heart, praised with the lips, and esteemed with the intellect. When peculiar deference and respect are intended to be shown, the right hand is first lowered almost to the ground, as a proof that the individual would honour your very feet, or the soil you tread. A still greater deference is implied in kissing the hand; and the greatest of all is kissing the feet. These latter, however, it is just as dignified for travellers firmly, but courteously, to resist. Another remark may be made on a curious custom which universally prevails in

In making purchases from an Arab his politeness is almost amazing. When the price is asked he replies, "Whatever you please, my lord." When pressed for a more definite answer, he says, "Take it without money." One cannot but remember under such circumstances, Abraham's treaty with the sons of Heth for the cave of Machpelah (Gen. xxiii.). Our feelings of romance, however, are somewhat damped when we find that the price ultimately demanded is four or five times the value of the article. An Arab always tells you that his house is yours, his property is yours, he himself is your slave; that he loves you with all his heart, would defend you with his life, &c. &c. This all sounds very pretty, but it will be just as well not to rely too much on it for fear of disappointment. Nothing, however, is lost by politeness; and so one may seem to believe all that is said, and even utter an occasional Ullah yutawwel 'umrak ya sidy, "May God prolong your life, O my lord!" by way of showing gratitude. The Arabs are most profuse in the use of titles. Every beggar will address his fellow with "O my lord,” ya sidy (pronounced seedy), or "Your excellency," jenâbak; while the traveller is generally saadatak, "Your highness." It has been too often the practice of Englishmen to "manage” their Arab servants and muleteers by bullying and browbeating; but this is a great mistake. Insolent dragomen generally resort to such practices to sustain their temporary tyranny. I need not say that such conduct is beneath the dignity of an English gentleman. Unvarying courtesy, accompanied with as unvarying

firmness, will gain the desired object far more | familiarity will be attributed by the Arab to effectually. This is especially the case with weakness of character, perhaps in some cases the Bedawîn, who can often be persuaded by to fear, of which he will not be slow to take a kind word when they could not be driven advantage when occasion offers. To know by a rod of iron. At the same time any ap- one's place and keep it, and to know one's proach to undue familiarity should be im- rights and insist on obtaining them, are allmediately checked; the permission of such important qualifications in Syria as elsewhere.

ALFRED

PERCEVAL GRAVES.

[Alfred Perceval Graves is the son of Dr. Graves, the Bishop of Limerick, and was born in Dublin in 1846. He was educated at Trinity College, obtaining double-first honours in classics and English. He graduated in 1870, after entering the Home Office, where he became private secretary to Mr. Winterbotham, then under-secretary in that department, whose premature decease, it may be remembered, caused some years ago so much regret among all parties. Mr. Graves is now one of Her Majesty's inspectors of schools.

Mr. Graves is also the joint author of a successful work on school management, entitled the Elementary School Manager. Another volume of his poems, under the title Irish Songs and Ballads, is in the press, from which we make our remaining quotations.]

IRISH SPINNING-WHEEL SONG.1

Show me a sight
Bates for delight

Brought up amid scholastic surroundings, An ould Irish wheel wid a young Irish girl at it. Mr. Graves began at an early age to write. His first literary production appeared in the

O!

No!
Nothin' you'll show

Dublin University Magazine when he was but Aquals her sittin' and takin' a twirl at it.

Look at her there,
Night in her hair-

sixteen or seventeen years of age. He em-
ployed himself at this time for the most part
in giving poetic translations from the Greek
and Latin classics. Mr. Graves has also con-
tributed to Fraser, the Spectator, Punch, and
several other periodicals. The first collection
of his poems was published in 1872, under the Peepin' to put an end to all doubt in us

The blue ray of day from her eye laughin' out on
us!

title Songs of Killarney. The work was received with a chorus of praise from the journals-literary and political, English, Irish,

Faix, an' a foot,
Perfect of cut,

That there's a sight
Bates for delight

and Scotch, and, it may be added, American. An ould Irish wheel wid a young Irish girl at it.

The book consists for the most part of Irish songs and ballads. The aim of the poet has

O! No!
Nothin' you'll show

been to express the humour and pathos of the Aquals her sittin' an' takin' a twirl at it.

Irish character, and, further, to make the ex

How the lamb's wool

Turns coarse an' dull

of form in which the Irish people would them- By them soft, beautiful, weeshy, white hands of

pression of these passions take the simplicity

selves clothe them. Our first two quotations are from this collection, and we think the book as a whole shows that the author has at

her,

Down goes her heel,
Roun' runs the reel,

tained remarkable success in his object. These Purrin' wid pleasure to take the commands of her.

poems are full of genuine Irish humour, which is delicate and graceful, and utterly free, it need scarcely be said, from the buffoonery that has been made to pass as characteristically Irish. There is also true natural melody in the verses, and the sentiment is pure and healthy.

Then show me a sight
Bates for delight

An ould Irish wheel wid a young Irish girl at it.

1 This and the following pieces are quoted by the author's permission.

And though quite avoidin' all foolish frivolity,

I'd rock my own sweet childie to rest in a cradle Still at all seasons of innocent jollity,