BH

HAMDUN, although entirely inhabited by Christians of the Greek and Maronite sects, is under the rule of a noble Druze house of the name of Abd-el-Melek. It is hardly necessary to inform the world at this late day that the Druzes are heterodox Moslems, holding about as much of the true faith of Islam as the Mormons of Christianity. They have a prophet of their own whom they call greater than Mohammed; and they have fought and suffered heroically in the conservation of their unimportant tenets. Like the Jews, they fled from Egypt, wandered through the desert and established themselves in Syria. Their oldest families live, I believe, in the Hauran beyond Jordan; but the majority of the nation, about sixty thousand souls, inhabit Mount Lebanon. The Druzes of the mountain are governed by five great feudatory houses, who have each their particular territory, possess and let extensive tracts of land, and exact military service of their peasantry, whether Druze or Christian.

The ceremonies of their religion, and some of its doctrines, are secret, known only to those who are initiated under a bond of silence. Women as well as men are inducted into these mysteries; yet the number of the "enlightened" (okkal) is considerably exceeded by the number of the profane. No human being, says the Druze law, shall know our faith, who will not bind himself to drink no wine, to use no tobacco, to accept no money gained by fraud or violence. Most of the nation, most even of the nobility think that this is going too fast and too far, and accordingly damn themselves with pipes and ill-gotten piasters, and remain inveterate know-nothings on the subject of theology. Some of the okkal are remarkable for their purity of life, their benevolence and their hospitality. One old religious official, who lived in a Druze village about two miles from Bhamdun, had gained a virtuous and charitable notoriety among every sect in the mountain. No man, they say, ever crossed his threshold without being refreshed from his table. I myself called on this venerable elder and gratified him exceedingly by my

thankful appreciation of his walnuts, dried figs, grapes, and honey.

The Druzes make no attempts to proselyte, as they say that the number of the enlightened is fixed, and that God will never permit it to be less or greater while earth continues. There are Druzes, according to their belief, in China, and Druzes among the Protestants, particularly the English. An incident connected with this credence occurred during a visit of one of their religous sheikhs to one of our American missionaries. Looking the missionary steadily in the eye, the sheikh said: "Do you know such a seed (giving its name) in your country?"

This is the first sign of the initiated Druzes, the test by which they discover a brother okkal, and the proper answer to it is: "It is sown in the hearts of the faithful." Our countryman had met with a religious book of this sect, picked up during the sackings and burnings of the war of 1840, and had taken some pains to study its curious mysteries. He recognized the sign, therefore, but was of course too conscientious to deceive the old Druze by answering it.

The Abd-el-Meleks, although the rulers of Bhamdun, are not its landlords, and do not possess one of its hundred and fifty houses, nor an acre of its rocky but well-cultivated fields and vineyards. Nor, in general, is it otherwise with the eighteen or twenty other mountain villages over which they hold authority. But the family is vigorous and numerous, counting, I believe, about forty men. In nobility of blood it is accounted inferior to the other great Druze houses, the Jembelots, the Bonekeds, the Tellhooks and Aamads; and it has attained consequence chiefly within the lifetime and by the talents of its present aged leader. Even yet its chiefest distinction perhaps is, that it raises and owns the finest blood horses in all Mount Lebanon.

I noticed that the villagers always treated their sheikhs with great respect, never sitting in their presence unless invited. Young sprigs of the mountain nobility sometimes tried to impress us with a sense of their own dignity, by not offering this invitation, and

thus keeping respectable people standing in their conceited little presence. The demeanor of the elder and more influential sheikhs was, on the contrary, always bland, civil, and sociable, at least towards the worthier and wealthier of their subjects.

A few days after our settlement at Bhamdun, one of the Abd-el-Meleks, named Nebhan, called on the Hakeem, and requested that he would soon make the light of his presence to shine on their palaces. The day following, we mounted our horses, and rode off over a stony path, paved here and there with broad flaggings of natural limestone, and winding loftily along one of the rudest ridges of the mountain. At the opening of a narrow valley, which descended rapidly into an enormous ravine, we came upon the massive masonry of the feudal halls. Plain, heavy, oblong quadrangles of well-hewn, wellcemented stone, the monotony of their somber walls relieved by arched and columned windows, they towered, like protecting giants, at the entrance of a slovenly Druze village. Three bloodhorses, with slender limbs, powerful shoulders, thin necks, fine muzzles, and gentle eyes, were tethered around the principal gate. The venerable head of

the house received us with multitudinous

compliments, and made us sit down by him on the divan. There entered, a moment after, the Hector of this Priam, Sheikh Yusef, the real present leader of the family-a man of about forty, with aquiline visage, gray, unsettled eyes, a sensual mouth, and an expression of mingled guile and audacity. The conversation fell upon politics. The Sheikh Yusef surprised us by asking what effect a then very late resignation of Lord Palmerston would have on the eastern policy of England. "I tell you,” said he, continuing the subject, "that Turkey never will flourish, as long as there are so many Frank powers intermeddling in her affairs. She is exactly in the situation of a certain invalid who had a consultation of five doctors over him. One doctor said that the patient's trouble was yellow bile; another insisted that it was black bile; another, that phlegm was choking him; another, that his blood was perilously out of order; and a fourth declared that windiness was carrying him to the grave. Each one stuck obstinately to his own opinion, and administered physic for the case as he understood it. The

consequence was that the patient died suddenly, and (God permitting) Turkey will do the same.' This was rather anticipative of the famous declaration of Nicholas about the 'sick man." The play in the story is on the five great powers of Europe, compared with the five causes which Arab physicians allot to disease. These causes, as Sheikh Yusef hinted, are yellow-bile, blackbile, phlegm, blood, and wind.

Pipes were handed to us, and succeeded by a ration of sherbet, that is, sugared water flavored with rose. A boy followed up, with a basin and towel to cleanse our paws and muzzles. Sheikh Nebhan then invited the Hakeem into his palace, to prescribe for his wife. I followed, under the doctorial wing of my companion, and found myself, for the first and last time, in the harem of an oriental. In a small apartment, three women, the mother, wife, and sister of the sheikh, reposed upon low, free-and-easy divans. They shrouded their faces in white veils, as we entered, and returned modestly-muffled responses to our salutations. The sheikh sat down with us, and encouraged the women to talk, by chatting sociably, like a cosy, goodnatured husband. The mother soon dropped her ghostly mask, and exposed a visage pale, wrinkled, emaciated, but lit by a kindly smile. The others followed her example, discovering to my gaze high aquiline features, which would not have been handsome even without their corpse-like pallor. Some unimportant symptoms having been detailed, and a prescription administered, the conversation cackled away to other topics. The eldest lady, finding that the Hakeem had a mother at home, seemed greatly interested in the fact, asked how old she was, compared the age with her own, and ended by pitying this American parent for being so widely separated from her son. She then inquired what was our religion. The Hakeem mentioned the principal doctrines of Christianity. "Ah!" said she, "Praise be to God! That is exactly our religion. How very remarkable that we should hold the same belief!" The others nodded confirmatively; and there was a general salvo of Praise be to God! over this enormous falsehood. This is one of the pious peculiarities of the Druzes. They pile hypocrisy on the back of mystery, and pretend to be of the religion of whoever has them by the

button-hole; that is to say, supposing that an Arab ever had such a thing as a button-hole about him. The straightest of the enlightened, if in a Moslem community, will go to the mosque, imitate all the prostrations of Islamism, and talk fanatically about the Koran, the seventh heaven, and the sacred camel of the prophet. Among Catholics, were the ruling powers in exterminating mood, he would frequent the church, use holy water copiously, cross himself with orthodox precision, and swear by the saints and the Virgin Mary. One is puzzled to decide between this stupendous methodical hypocrisy and the cruel, uncompromising zeal which delights in a stout stake and a rousing fire.

After a call of twenty minutes on these respectable eastern ladies, we rose, and set off for home. I subsequently learned some particulars concerning the morals and history of a certain influential Druze sheikh, called Ali. An ambitious, intriguing, turbulent fellow, he was perpetually getting ready kettles of hot water, for himself or somebody else. Having broken into, or rather, to do him justice, having been forced into, an open rebellion, he was attacked by an overwhelming force of Turkish troops, and had to fly for the sheltering deserts of Hauran. His old father followed with the family chest of money, containing about ten thousand dollars, and was robbed, by a party of irreverent Arabs, of his money and a favorite mare. He got back to the hereditary seat, unmolested by the government, which now had nothing to gain from him, but almost broken-hearted at the loss of his mare and his piasters. Sheikh Ali was blown about by the winds of adverse circumstance for some time, and at last sought refuge in the house of Mr. Wood, the energetic British consul at Damascus. The pasha, like a cunning old spider, put on an air of indifference, and even friendliness; but, as soon as the Sheikh Ali ventured into the streets, clapped hands on him, and stored him away, quietly, in a corner of his own den. Hereupon, the British lion wagged his tail, indignantly, and the Turk, in a fright, allowed his prisoner to be carried back to the consulate. Mr. Wood sent to Constantinople, representing the rebel's capacity and good intentions, and requesting that he might be restored to his sheikhdom. Indeed, to give him his due once more, he has always been

a reasonably good ruler, as rulers go in Lebanon.

In the mean time, the astute Ali put two strings to his bow; called Mr. Wood his lord, his savior, his only refuge, and wrote secretly to the pasha, praying "to be delivered from this hog of an Englishman." The consul, as cunning as himself, learned all his tricks, repaid his hollow compliments in kind, but accomplished his deliverance, for the honor of the British lion. The pardon came, and Ali departed in peace, having first scratched the back of the English hog with innumerable flatteries and protestations of gratitude.

A day or two subsequent to our call on the Abd-el-Meleks, one of their servants came to Bhamdun, bearing a kid to the Hakeem, as a bleating testimonial of thanks, for his services. The creature was tied in the little court-yard, and fed, daily, with slops, grass, leaves, and all those crumbs of comfort that kids desire. He soon became a kind of awful pet to Master Charley, or, as Yusef and Jurjus phrased it, Khowajah Sharley, a timid child, who held quadrupeds in particular fear, from camels to mice. There was something terrible to him in the idea of four legs; a sort of dreadful possibility of doing his small person four-fold damage. When he was scampering ahead of us, in our walks about the vineyards, the sight of a distant calf would always send him rapidly under the protecting shadow of our coat-tails.

He used to walk slowly down the stairs into kiddy's domain, pause on the lower step and look doubtfully at the animal's physiognomy, to see if it was at all ferocious that morning, then descend from his post, and advance cautiously towards the prisoner, with an offering of grape-tendrils or mulberry-leaves. Occasionally, kiddy would get the small lad's fingers into his mouth, or make a successful dash at his white apron, which, to his inexperienced eyes, probably seemed to be of milk. Squeaking hysterically at these frightful demonstrations of cannibalism, Khowajah Sharley would jump backwards, and usually tumble over a straw, or a bit of orange-peel, and come down on the top of his head.

Soon after, the Abd-el-Meleks sent the Hakeem an additional present of a couple of geese. These were the only birds of their race that I ever had

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the honor of meeting in Syria. In fact, they were foreigners, and had emigrated from Europe only a few years before, under the guardianship of an enterprising Frenchman. He made over a number of his gabbling protegés to the Abdel-Meleks, within whose domains he had established a silk-factory; and they, ignorant that the Hakeem came from a country where geese-feathers are plenty as to be used to confer distinction on malefactors, sent him these two specimens, as a great rarity. They were lodged in the court-yard, with kiddy, and accommodated with a tub of water, in lieu of a fish-pond. They took a bath immediately after their journey, and then waddled through an inspection of their new domain with cacklings of considerable approbation. They were a most home-like spectacle to us, and brought back to our memories the brooklets and puddles which refreshed our truant childhood.

Speaking of geese, and especially of goats, leads me naturally, and, as it were, through green pastures, to the subject of sheep. There are considerable flocks of sheep on Mount Lebanon, and they form a pretty addition to its life and scenery. You see them, sometimes huddled together and creeping up or down the declivities, in distant diminutiveness; sometimes scattered, and nibbling, in tranquil, woolly contentment, at the scanty herbage; sometimes standing, in a kind of brown study, on the edge of a precipice, gazing at the under landscape and, apparently, wondering at the extreme bigness of the world. These good sheep are never driven, but collect at the call of the shepherd, and follow him, because they know his voice. They are larger than our breed; so tall, in fact, that asses sometimes graze among them without being easily distinguished, at a little distance, from their nibbling competitors. Their flesh is particularly well-flavored, but their wool is rather thin, being adapted, with great judgment, to the climate. Hogs being unpopular in the east, among Christians as well as Moslems, sheep supply their place in the economy and affections of the household. Almost every citizen of Bhamdun usually has his family sheep. favored, though fated quadruped, enjoys as many domestic privileges as an Irishman's pig, and is waited on in a style of considerable more gentility. He is

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generally tethered in a clean place by the door-way, and, at night, often shares the protection of his master's roof. If there is a daughter in the family, who has reached the maturity of eight or nine years, his unctuous welfare is confided to her.

In consequence of their full diet, the household sheep of Mount Lebanon soon become unmanageably stout, as polite people express it, and sometimes take their victuals without rising from their corpulent recumbency. In this state they are very much troubled by their tails, which grow so inconveniently big as to be almost untransportable. For the Syrian sheep, like those of the Cape of Good Hope, have tails as broad as their backs, which descend expansively behind, after the fashion of our revolutionary fathers' coats. As the animal fattens, this appendage grows larger and more unctuous, until it becomes a huge sack of nearly pure mutton suet. The people told me that the tail of a fat sheep often weighed thirty-five pounds, but that they had sometimes known them of nearly twice that gravity. They are never absolutely carried about on wheel-barrows, as travelers relate; but a shingle is often fastened to the under side, to prevent irritative contact with pebbles and grape-vine stumps. In a very fat case, two wheels might, perhaps, be attached to this machine, for the purpose of diminishing friction and so rendering locomotion less laborious, but, I doubt if a Lebanon peasant ever contrived them. During my stay in Bhamdun, a respectable family was thrown into distress by an accident resulting from the unwieldiness of these living tallow-bags. A remarkably stoutbodied sheep incautiously jumped from a wall about four feet in height, and the shock dislocated his tail. Medical aid proved unavailing, the injury was in too delicate and vital a part; the animal sunk rapidly, and the owner had to kill him to prevent mortification.

This is the only kind of sheep in Syria; and the inhabitants have no idea of any other. "Raheel," I said one day, "what singular tails your sheep have! You must excuse me for laughing at them."

"Why are they singular?" responded Raheel, looking up with a wonder as innocent as my own.

"Oh, they are so large!"

Genesee growth and planted it on one of the warm exposures of Mount Lebanon. It seemed to take a wonderful liking to the soil and climate, and shot up confidently to the height of five or more feet. On the natives it produced some such impression probably as would the apparition of a long-legged spind ling, gawky, clean-shaved Yankee. The mountaineers used to gather round and survey its beardless prolixity in amaze ment. In the name of God!" said one man, "why does your wheat grow so tall?"

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"The people of our country are tall," replied the Hakeem, "and require tall

wheat."

"But why has it no beard?"

"It is the fashion of our people not to wear the beard; and the wheat respects the customs of the people."

"O Hakeem! thou art joking with us. But the wheat is wonderful. What has God wrought?"