for a habitation of the outcasts in a barren
land. I have been told that the Maronite
convents in Lebanon never spend more than a
fourth part of their animal incomes, putting
by the rest for the purpose of purchasing
whatever property may be for sale in the
neighbourhood of their estates. Thus, nearly
half of the best land in the mountain has
the Maronite monks for its owners.

The view from the terrace roof of this
convent at sunset was even finer than any
thing I had yet seen in Lebanon. Far off
in the west the outline of the high hills in the
island of Cyprus was distinctly visible, whilst
the town of Beyrout, although, in reality,
parted from us by a four hours' journey,
seemed to be lying within gunshot, and
the nation to which each ship in the
anchorage belonged, could plainly be made
out from its flag. There was too, as indeed
there ever is in the mountain air of
Lebanon, a freshness and coolness without
damp, which seemed to make a bliss of the
mere act of breathing.

The hospitable monks of Mar Shyia would
not for a moment listen to my leaving their
convent before night. The Emir Moussa (a
near relative of the Christian governor of
the mountain), whose acquaintance I had
formed some months before in Beyrout,
hearing I was in the neighbourhood, sent
over his son, accompanied by four horsemen,
to beg that I would pay him a visit at
his palace at Mitayne, a village about three
hours distant. I replied that I would not
fail to be with him next day, but that, as my
absence from Beyrout must be limited, I
could only pass the hot hours of the next
day with him, and should be obliged to
proceed forward in the evening.

Directly after sunset, my hospitable
entertainers at Mar Shyia, commenced preparations
for the evening meal. Arrack and
sweetmeats were, as usual, brought out, and
we sat above half-an-hour discussing these,
together with pistachio and pine nuts, in the
open air. Supper was then announced, and
we sat down to a meal like that of the morning,
with the same persons to partake of it.
Hunger satisfied, we washed our hands in
the eastern fashion, served by two of the
deacons of the convent. The never-failing
coffee and pipes were then brought. Several
of the other monks dropped in, and there
came also two or three of the Maronites. We
talked of crops, prices of corn, the next land to
be sold in the village, and—that never-failing
topic in Lebanon—the ruling price of silk and
cocoons. These subjects were varied, from
time to time, by questions put to me regarding
England and its government. One of
the monks asked whether it was true—he
"had heard it, but could not believe it, and
begged pardon for putting the question to me,"
—that England was governed by a queen, who
was married; but whose husband had no
power or authority in the country—was, in
fact, one of his wife's subjects? When I replied
that this was the case, the exclamations
of " Wonderful! " " God is great! " " The
English are a strange people! " " A wife to
govern over her own husband! " burst forth
on all sides. My jolly old friend, the superior
of the order, out of pure politeness, I believe,
and with the intention of giving me a loophole
of escape, suggested that although perhaps
the husband of our queen had no actual
authority in England; yet he might be a member
of the great Medglis (the council) of the
nation; and he had heard from a Frank
merchant many years ago, that the Queen of
England could do nothing without her
council. For the honour of Great Britain I
was obliged to say that both these statements
were true; that the Queen could do
nothing without her council, and that her
husband was a member of that council. I
palliated this violation of strict truth to
myself, by remembering that the Prince
Consort is a member of the Privy Council,
and that to enlighten these mountaineers
in the difference that exists between
Parliament and the Privy Council, which the
Superior evidently had confounded into one
and the same thing, would be but a vain
toil. With that natural politeness which
distinguishes even the poorest and least
educated amongst the Arabs, the conversation
was then changed, and flowed again in its
old channel, respecting the news of the
mountain, and the price of silk.

It has repeatedly occurred to me during
my sojourn in the East, to notice how very
much the monks here talk and think about
money; although personally, they can possess
little or nothing, and any store of land or
wealth, goes only to the general fund of the
order. I have lived and mixed with the
monks of perhaps more than twenty
convents in Turkey, Greece, and Syria, while
travelling in those countries, and I never
heard them start any topic of conversation
which had not reference, directly or indirectly,
to money, and the means of getting
more of it. It is not so with the European
monks,—the Jesuits, Franciscans, Capuchins,
or others, whom I have talked with in Italy
or the East. But I certainly never remember
to have heard the monks of Syria conversing
upon any topic even remotely bearing
on religion. Those, however, who have
resided longest in Syria—as well as the laymen
amongst the natives of the country—inform
me that, although the monks of the convents
are supposed by the rules of their order not
to possess any individual funds, yet that, for
each one to have by him a private store of
four or five thousand piastres (thirty to forty
pounds) is not considered sin by their
superiors; while, in their turn, the superiors
who have control of the money of the order
or the convent, always know how to enrich
their nearest relatives before they die.

At about ten o'clock our party broke up,