ten o'clock in the forenoon, yet as I had been
up since four, and long in the saddle, I was
asleep almost as soon as I was on the floor,
where the divan had been spread for me,
and slept well for two full hours. Then came
a knock at the door, and one of the monks
bade me to breakfast.

It has been said that I was among Greek
Catholics. They still observe the oriental
calendar, receive the Lord's Supper in both
kinds, and their priests—not, however, their
monks or their bishops—are allowed to marry.
They have a patriarch of their own who
resides at Damascus, and they have eight
bishoprics. Amongst this sect are included
most of the rich Christian merchants of
Syria, and as a body it enjoys perhaps greater
consideration than any other in the country.
Only last year the Pope's nuncio in Syria
proposed to them that they should adopt the
Gregorian Calendar, but this the laity resisted
to a man, and the three or four of their
bishops who obeyed the order were turned
out of their churches by their own
congregations.

Roused from my sleep I went to the
reception-room of the convent, where as—usual
in the East—sweetmeats and small glasses
of arrack were laid out as a whet to the
appetite. The custom of the country is, in
this respect, exactly the contrary to our
own: men in the East drink and make
merry before a meal. With us, the most
difficult half-hour to get over, is that immediately
preceding dinner; but in Syria, as all over
Turkey, it is the merriest and chattiest bit
of the day.

My hosts of Mar Shyia were most temperate.
The jolly old superior certainly emptied
his glasswith a great deal of gusto, refilling and
again emptying pretty often, while compelling
me to do the same. But even of raw
spirits, served in glasses, which contain literally
no more than a thimbleful, one might
take a dozen glasses without serious disturbance
of the brain. The meal that followed—
although out of respect to an European guest
it was served on a table—was completely
Arab. Only the superior of the order and
the head of the convent ate with us, the rest
of the monks having already dined in the
refectory. The two who dined with me used
spoons, which travelled to and fro between
the dishes and their mouths,—no plates were
on the table except one for me. While my
hosts were eating they drank water only;
but, a bottle of most excellent Lebanon wine
was brought up for my use. The dinner
over, coffee and pipes were brought in, a
few other monks joined us, and conversation
became general. The monks seemed to be
simple, harmless men, very content to live
their indolent and almost useless lives.
The convent is one of the richest in the
province, its income being nearly seven hundred
pounds a year. The superior told me
that there were fifteen men in the community,
ten priests, and the rest deacons. There is,
in these Greek Catholic institutions, no body
of novices. When a young man wishes to
enter the order, he remains for two years
as a deacon, waiting upon the priests and
doing servant's duty in the house. Of
studies to prepare them for the priesthood,
they seem, by their own account, to take but
little thought. A slight knowledge of the
Arabic grammar, and ability to read and
write their own language pretty correctly,
is all the learning asked of them. There was
nothing whatever in the shape of a library
in the house, nor had these priests any books
in their possession, except a few psalters and
books of devotion. They attend one mass
every morning in the church, besides four
other services, each of which lasts for about
half an hour. Like other eastern Christians,
they have no organ in the church. The only
music to recite prayers, chaunts and psalms,
as fast as it is possible for human tongue to
speak. I have often been surprised in France
and Italy at the speed with which masses
and prayers are recited; but the pace in
European churches is a mere lazy crawl
compared to the gallop of the Greek Catholic
priests in Syria. The superior of the order
told me that they hoped in time to procure
something like education for the monks;
but that, for the present, there were
insurmountable obstacles. After dinner, in the
cool of the evening, I proceeded, with the
head of the convent, to the best points of
view in the neighbourhood, and paid a visit
to the monks of the adjoining Maronite Convent,
the superior of which had called upon
me soon after my arrival. The inmates of
the two convents are upon the best of terms
with each other; and, except that the
Maronite monks till their grounds and only
eat meat twice a year, their habits are almost
the same as those of their neighbours. The
Maronites is a very old sect, dating from
the seventh century. For the last five or six
hundred years they have been in communion
with Rome. Tiiey pride themselves upon
obedience to the Pope, and a considerable
number of their clergy had been educated at
the Propaganda. Many of their secular
priests are well educated, and understand
Latin, Italian and Syriac, besides Arabic;
but their monks are most illiterate; and, in
their general tastes and habits, do not rise
above the lowest peasantry.

At the Maronite Convent we were well
received, and the perpetual welcome of
coffee and pipes was not wanting. We were
shown over the house, and went to see the
monks employed in breaking and preparing
pine-nuts, fresh gathered from the forests
attached to the convent, for the Beyrout
market. This house is also wealthy; but,
to see the poverty of everything in it,—the
wretched food of the inmates, their old worn-
out clothes, the total absence of church ornament
or household comfort, it might be taken