Mountains of Lebanon.—?Grand Scenery.—?Sublime View.—?Mountain Traveling.—?Scriptural Allusions.—?Cedars of Lebanon.—?Their Number, Appearance, and symbolic Character.—?Population of the Mountains.—?Districts and Peculiarities of the Druzes and Maronites.—?New Road.—?Crossing the Mountains.—?Plain of the BukÂ’a.—?Leontes.—?Aswollen River.—?Ancient Cities.—?Imposing Cavalcade.—?Wives of the Pasha of Damascus.—?First View of Damascus.—?Splendor and Enjoyments of the Interior of the City.—?Great Plain of Damascus.—?Abana and Pharpar.—?Scene of St.Paul’s Conversion.—?City without Ruins.—?Antiquity and thrilling History of Damascus.—?House of Judas.—?Home of Ananias.—?“Street called Straight.”—?Naaman’s Palace.—?Tombs of the Great.—?Location of Damascus.—?Walls and Gates.—?Old Castle.—?Great Mosque.—?Gardens of Damascus.—?Commerce of the City.—?Curiosities in the Bazars.—?Population.—?Christian Citizens.—?Origin of the Massacre of 1860.—?Its Progress.—?Terrible Scenes.—?American Vice-Consul.—?Ruins.—?Sad Results.—?Defense of the Christians by Abd-el-Kader.—?Visit to the Chieftain of Algiers.—?Our Reception.—?Testimonials.—?His Appearance.—?Conclusion.—?Political History of Palestine.—?Its Condition under the Turks.—?It is now in a Transition State.—?Possessions of European Nations.—?Future of the Holy Land.—?Christian Missions.—?Decline of Mohammedanism.—?Religious Liberty.—?Future Glory.

Branches of the ancient Taurus chain, the parallel mountain ranges of Lebanon and anti-Lebanon, extend from north to south through the whole length of the Land of Promise. Geologically they consist of a hard, calcareous, whitish stone, and are disposed in strata variously inclined. Varying in altitude from 3000 to 13,000 feet above the sea, and skirted with plains at different points, they continually change their form and appearance with their levels and situation. Their three highest summits are Hermon, SunnÎn, and Mukhmel. The first is 10,000 feet high, the second 11,000, the third 13,000. Their surface is generally smooth, bare, and rounded, but in sections it is broken and rugged, resembling huge piles of rocks, not unlike, in form, the ruins of towns and castles. They abound in springs, which, together with the melting snows covering their higher portions, form torrents, that descend to the plains on either side, refreshing the parched fields, and imparting an air of liveliness to the scene. Both their sides and summits are dotted with forests and groves of oak, fir, larch, box, laurel, myrtle, and cedar-trees; and, though the soil is scanty, the industrious peasants have planted vineyards on artificial terraces which yield the most delicious wines. In the region about the great Valley of KadÎsha are vast mulberry groves, the leaves of which serve as food for the silk-worm, and the villagers in that section are chiefly employed in the production of silk in its raw state.

In crossing the Lebanons the traveler meets with scenes in which Nature displays beauty or grandeur, sometimes romantic wildness, but always variety. The sublime elevation and steep ascent of this magnificent rampart, which seems to inclose the country, and the gigantic masses which shoot into the clouds, inspire him with astonishment and reverence. At times he seems to be traveling in the middle regions of the atmosphere; above him the sky is clear and serene, below him the thick clouds are dissolving into rain and watering the plains. On gaining the loftier peaks, he is filled with delight by the immensity of space which expands around him, and which becomes a fresh subject of admiration. On every side he beholds a horizon without bounds, while in clear weather the sight is lost over the desert, extending to the Persian Gulf, and over the Mediterranean, the waters of which wash the shores of Europe. Apparently his view commands the world; and the wandering eye, surveying the successive chains of mountains, transports the mind in an instant from Antioch to Jerusalem. Approaching nearer objects, he observes the white coast of the “Great Sea” on the west, with a boundless expanse of water beyond, and examines with greater minuteness the rocks, the woods, the torrents, the sloping sides of the hills, the villages and towns around him, and exults at the diminution of objects which formerly appeared so great. He sees the valleys obscured by storm-clouds with fresh delight, and smiles at hearing the thunder muttering beneath his feet. The once threatening summits now appear like the furrows of a plowed field or the steps of an amphitheatre, and he feels himself gratified by an elevation above so many lofty objects, on which he now looks down with inward satisfaction.

On penetrating into the interior districts of these mountains, the roughness of the roads, the steep descents and precipices, strike him at first with terror; but the sagacity of the horse he rides, which can traverse them with safety, soon relieves him, and he calmly surveys those picturesque scenes that entertain him in quick succession. He travels whole days together to reach a place which was in sight at his departure; he winds, descends, skirts hills, and climbs their precipitous sides, and in this perpetual change it seems as if Nature herself varied for him at every step the decorations of the scenery. Sometimes he beholds villages clinging to the steep declivities on which they are built, and so arranged that the terraces of one row of houses serve as streets to those above them. Sometimes he espies the habitation of a recluse standing on a solitary height, or a gray convent, whose bell awakens the echoes of the Lebanons. At times he sees a rock perforated by a torrent, and which has become a natural arch, and another worn perpendicular, resembling a high wall. On the hill-sides he passes beds of stones, uncovered and detached by the waters, rising up like artificial ruins; and in many places, where the waters meet with inclined beds, the intermediate earth has been washed away, leaving immense caverns, or subterranean channels have been formed, through which rivulets flow the year round.668

In traversing the Lebanons, the traveler is impressed with the accuracy of the allusions of the inspired writers to these wonderful mountains. Such was their fame in the days of Moses that he earnestly prayed, “Let me go over and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon.”669 Considered wild and dreary, the seat of storm and tempest, Lebanon was the type of national desolation in the mind of the prophet; and regarding its restoration to fertility as the symbol of returning national prosperity, he asks the significant question, “Is it not a very little while, and Lebanon shall be turned into a fruitful field, and the fruitful field shall be esteemed as a forest?”670 Always regarded a strong barrier to the Land of Promise, and opposing an almost insuperable obstacle to the movements of chariots of war, it was the arrogant boast of Sennacherib, “By the multitude of my chariots am Icome up to the height of the mountains, to the sides of Lebanon; and Iwill cut down the tall cedars thereof, and the choice fir-trees thereof; and Iwill enter into the height of his border, and the forest of his Carmel.”671 As of old, so now, the less inhabited portions of the range are the chosen haunts of beasts of prey, to which the prophet thus alludes: “The violence of Lebanon shall cover thee, and the spoil of beasts, which made them afraid, because of men’s blood, and for the violence of the land, of the city, and of all that dwell therein;”672 and to such ferocious animals that roam on its summits and lodge in its thickets, and occasionally descend to the plain in quest of prey, Solomon refers, in that animated invitation to his spouse, “Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon; look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards.”673 In allusion to the fragrant odors wafted from the aromatic plants growing upon its sides, the poet apostrophizes the same imaginary being in these elegant words: “And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.”674 The large vineyards which adorn the terraced sides of the mountains produce wines of great richness and choice flavor; they are of a beautiful color, and so oily that they adhere to the glass. It was to their reviving effect and odor that Hosea refers: “They that dwell under his shadow shall return; they shall revive as the corn, and grow as the vine; the scent thereof shall be as the wine of Lebanon.”675 The rapid growth of the Christian Church, her great extent, and the countless number of her converts, was announced in the no less sublime than truthful figure, “There shall be a handful of corn in the earth upon the tops of the mountains; the fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon.”676 The stupendous size, the extensive range, and great elevation of Lebanon; its towering summits capped with perpetual snow or crowned with fragrant cedars; its olive plantations; its vineyards, producing the most delicious wines; its clear fountains and cold-flowing brooks; its fertile vales and odoriferous shrubberies, combine to form, in Scripture language, “the glory of Lebanon.” In preintimating the conversion of the Gentiles from their idolatry and corruption to the purity and blessings of Christianity, Isaiah employs the majestic figure, “The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice, even with joy and singing; the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon, they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God.”677

In all ages the cedar of Lebanon has been regarded as an object of unrivaled grandeur and beauty in the vegetable kingdom. It is, accordingly, one of the natural images which occur in the poetical style of the Hebrew prophets, and is appropriated to denote kings, princes, and potentates of the highest rank. In the days of Solomon the cedar forests of Lebanon were extensive, but at present there is but one known group on all the range. At the head of Wady KadÎsha, in a vast but secluded recess formed by the loftiest of the Lebanon summits, and encircled by a region of perpetual snow, is the small remaining forest of 400 trees of all sizes and ages. The axe of the builder and the ruthless hands of peasants have done much to reduce the once grand forests to this small clump of trees, to preserve which the mountains seem to have gathered round, covering them from the gaze of the destroyer. Their solitude strangely affected me; they stand alone, without another tree in sight or a patch of verdure on the surrounding acclivities. They cover the sides and summits of a pretty knoll, which is at the northeastern end of a recess eight miles in diameter, in the central ridge of Lebanon. The encircling summits are the highest in Syria, and streaked with perpetual snow. They are white and rounded, and their sides descend in naked, uniform slopes in the form of a semicircle. Some of the trees are in the vigor of their growth, others are gnarled and venerable. In form they are perfect images of grace and majesty. They are tall and straight, with fanlike branches, contracting like a cone toward the top. The shag-bark is coarse and heavy; the leaves are small, narrow, rough, exceedingly green, of a sombre hue, and arranged in tufts along the branches; they shoot in spring, and fall in early winter; the cones resemble those of the pine. From the full-grown trees a fluid trickles naturally and without incision; it is clear, transparent, whitish, and, after a time, dries and hardens. In most cases the branches shoot out horizontally from the parent trunk, forming beautiful pyramidal circles. On the summit of the knoll are several aged trees 40 feet in girth, and on the northern side is one the very image of strength and grandeur; its branches are larger than the trunks of ordinary trees, and its majestic limbs, stretching out over a vast area, afford a grateful shade. In the centre of the group is the patriarch of the grove. Measuring 48 feet in circumference, the trunk is gnarled, the stronger branches have fallen off, and its once majestic form bends toward the earth under the weight of many years. Standing beneath its patriarchal shade, Icould but ask, “How old art thou?” for it seemed to have come down from the days of the ancient seers.

Pre-eminently the cedars are “sacred” trees. The inspired narrator has linked them inseparably to many of the grandest events of Bible history. These are the “trees of the Lord,” the “cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted;”678 here is the remnant of that forest from which the timber was taken for God’s Temple in Jerusalem;679 these are the inspired similitudes of grandeur, strength, power, and glory. In denouncing the judgments of the Lord upon the proud and arrogant, the prophet declares: “For the day of the Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up, and he shall be brought low; and upon all the cedars of Lebanon that are high and lifted up, and upon all the oaks of Bashan.”680 To awaken grateful emotions in the hearts of the degenerate Jews, Amos reminds them, “Yet destroyed Ithe Amorite before them, whose height was like the height of the cedars;”681 and, as an illustration of Jehovah’s displeasure with royal pride, Ezekiel exclaims, “Behold, the Assyrian was a cedar in Lebanon with fair branches, and with a shadowing shroud, and of a high stature; and his top was among the thick boughs.”682 To break the cedars, and shake the enormous mass on which they grow, are figures selected by the Psalmist to express the awful majesty and infinite power of God. “The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty. The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars; yea, the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon.”683 The forests of the East, always near the point of ignition under the intense beams of a vertical sun, are frequently set on fire by the carelessness of those who have taken shelter in their recesses, and the devouring element continues its ravages till extensive plantations are consumed. To such a conflagration the prophet compares the destructive operations of the Roman armies under Vespasian and Titus against the Jews, when the nobles and rulers were slaughtered, the city and temple reduced to ashes, the people either put to the sword or sold into slavery, and the whole country laid waste. “Open thy doors, OLebanon, that the fire may devour thy cedars. Howl, fir-tree, for the cedar is fallen; because the mighty are spoiled: howl, Oye oaks of Bashan, for the forest of the vintage is come down.”684 And as the noblest of trees, and the most perfect symbol of prosperity when in their prime, they contain the significance of the precious promise, “The righteous shall flourish like the palm-tree; he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon.”685

The population of Lebanon is generally estimated at 400,000 souls, residing in more than 600 towns, villages, and hamlets. The inhabitants are designated according to their religious faith, and are known as Moslems, Jews, Greeks, Latins, Armenians, Maronites, and Druzes. Though the Mohammedans are in power, they are not the ruling class in these mountain regions. The Maronites and Druzes form the chief part of the population, and are the hereditary and inveterate foes of each other. The former occupy chiefly Lebanon, and number about 200,000. They derive their sectarian name from John Maron, a monk, who was the great apostle of the Monothelitic heresy in the seventh century, and who died in 701A.D. Renouncing their Monothelitism in 1180, they submitted to the Pope, and are now devoted to the See of Rome. Though residing in villages from Nazareth to Aleppo, their strong-hold is in the district of KesrawÂn; and their patriarch, who receives his robe of investiture from Rome, resides in the convent of KanobÎn, in the romantic glen of KadÎsha, near the cedars. They have 82 convents, in which are 2000 monks and nuns, who have a revenue of $350,000 per annum. Though brave, independent, and industrious, the Maronites are illiterate and superstitious, and are subject to the dictation of their clergy in all matters of religion and politics.

The Druzes occupy the southern half of Lebanon, extending over to Mount Hermon, and out into the Hauran. They are the descendants of Arabs who came from the eastern confines of Syria about 900 years ago, and now number 100,000. They believe in the unity of God; the transmigration of souls; in the ministry of HÂkim; in the mutual obligation of veracity and protection; and in the renunciation of all other religions, and their separation from those in error. Their peculiar doctrines were first propagated in Egypt by the notorious HÂkim, third of the Fatimite dynasty, who asserted that the Deity resided in Aly. In 1017A.D. the error of the Fatimite was embraced by a Persian by the name of Mohammed Ben-Ismail ed-Derazy, who settled in Egypt, but who, having excited the displeasure of the Egyptians by his fanaticism, was compelled to fly to the base of Mount Hermon, where he became the founder of the Druzes. At a later period, Hamza, a Persian, asserted that HÂkim was the expected Messiah, who is to reign triumphant over all the earth. Secret and exclusive in their worship, the sect is divided into two classes, the “initiated” and the “ignorant.” Absolute privacy being their object, their temples of devotion are in remote but conspicuous places—most of them on the summits of hills. Professedly religious, they are, nevertheless, a political body, and aim at the conquest of Syria. They are thoroughly organized. Their whole country is divided into districts. In each district a weekly council is held, and, by means of delegates, constant communication is maintained between the different branches of their community. In peace the Druzes are industrious and hospitable; in war, daring and ferocious. In their mountain homes they are readily distinguished from all other sects by their trim beards, and their neatly-folded turbans of spotless white.686

Thanks to the civilization of the West, and especially to French enterprise, a Macadamized road has been constructed from BeirÛt to Damascus. It is a noble highway, 16 feet wide, with deep water-drains on each side, and with drains, bridges, and buttresses of substantial mason-work. Regarding bad roads as barriers to the advance of an invading army, but forgetting that such also impede the retreat of their own forces, the Turks are the enemies of good roads. And although the antiquary, with the Turk, may deprecate the destruction of the camel-route which had been the great highway from Damascus to the sea since the days of Abraham, yet the interests of commerce and religion will be promoted by this new and grand turnpike.

Following the Mediterranean coast from Sidon to BeirÛt, which is the commercial emporium of Syria and Palestine, we passed through the busy streets of the latter town, and, leaving the pine forests and mulberry groves which environ the city to the west, we began the ascent of Lebanon. Riding rapidly over the newly-made road, we soon mounted the western spurs of Lebanon, and at midday reached the summit. The skies were lowery, and a dense fog hung upon the mountains. At times the fog was impenetrable, and the muleteers were compelled to call to each other frequently, and ring the warning bell of their approach. Turning to the southeast of Wady HummÂna, we began to descend amid wild and varied scenery. The clouds now were lifted up; the sun shone with unwonted splendor; and at our feet lay the glorious Plain of the BukÂ’a. The descent was along the southern side of this magnificent glen, the upper part of which is nine miles across; the bottom is dotted with villages, and the rocky sides are sprinkled with pines. The banks are shelving, and the new road not having been completed to this point, our horses cautiously picked their way among the rocks. To the north of the ravine, and on the summit of a lofty spur of the mountain, stand the ruins of a Druze castle, and to the south of it are a few excavated tombs.

Misdirected by a muleteer, our dragoman attempted to cross the BukÂ’a in a straight line, avoiding a long sweep over the ordinary path; but the recent rains had flooded the plains to the depth of three feet, and the Leontes swept by with increased velocity. Fording one branch of the river in safety, we were compelled to ride for several miles in water up to our horses’ haunches, and, on reaching the main channel of the Leontes, we found the banks too steep and the stream too deep and rapid to ford. Night was upon us, and, as our only alternative, we rode northward eight miles, and, after crossing four or five bridges, pursued our journey in the darkness of the hour to the small village of Mejdel, where, after having been in the saddle fourteen consecutive hours, we obtained lodgings in the humble cottage of a Maronite Christian.

Not far from the town is a hill crowned with the ruins of some extraordinary but unknown temple, and from its broken walls we obtained a view of the great Plain of BukÂ’a. The eye followed the mountains on each side to the northward till lost to view, and southward to where the chains converge and form the gorge of the Leontes. “The plain is smooth as a lake, and the artificial mounds which here and there dot its surface might well pass for islands.” Three miles to the northeast are the remains of the ancient city of Chalcis, and 25 miles beyond are the stupendous and splendid ruins of Ba’albek, the Heliopolis of Antoninus Pius, and the rival of Athens in the grandeur and proportions of its temples and palaces.

Mounting our horses, in half an hour we entered the defiles of anti-Lebanon. Ascending the long but picturesque glen of Wady HarÎr, we met a pompous cavalcade, escorting the wives and female slaves of the Pasha of Damascus to BeirÛt. The ladies rode in sedans, the sides of which were of glass, and which were borne on poles by two mules, one in front and the other behind. The chief ladies were in the maturity of womanhood, and their countenances were exceedingly fair. They were attired in the most costly manner, and over their faces were drawn thin white veils. In the sedans which followed were beautiful Circassian girls, and behind them came Nubian girls, remarkable only for their blackness. All seemed happy, and each returned our salutation with exquisite grace. The eunuchs were mounted on magnificent Arabian horses, elegantly caparisoned, and the Turkish cavalry, well mounted, and each bearing a long lance, appeared proud and vigilant.

On leaving Wady HarÎr we ascended a ridge of gray hills, and were soon on the desert plateau of Sahl Judeideh. In all my wanderings in Arabia and Palestine, Ihad seen nothing to exceed the sterility and forbidding aspect of this upland plain. But, as Nature loves contrasts, the bleak hills and plains of Judeideh only enhance, by way of contrast, the glorious Plain of El-Merj, on which Damascus stands. Reaching the summit of the ridge, the city of Eliezer and Naaman lay before me, embowered in gardens of vast extent and of the most enchanting beauty. Beholding it for myself, Icould no longer wonder at the sublime encomiums which Arabian writers and modern travelers have pronounced upon this entrancing prospect. On a magnificent plain, bounded by lofty mountains, are gardens of olive, apricot, pomegranate, cypress, poplar, willow, walnut, lemon, and orange trees, covering an area of 30 miles in circuit, from the midst of which rise tapering minarets, swelling domes, castellated towers, and white-roofed palaces, the abodes of merchant princes. It is this half-opened and half-secluded view of the city that gives power and charm to the vision. Now you see a golden crescent peering above the bright green foliage, sparkling in the sunlight like a diamond in a circlet of emeralds; now appears a half-ruined castle through an opening glade of cypresses and walnuts; and again is seen the white dome of an ancient mosque, embowered with stately palms and gracefully drooping willows.

Unlike other Oriental cities, Damascus retains the charm of her beauty even when seen from within. There is a fascination in her sparkling fountains and golden-flowing Abana, meandering amid bright oleanders and tall poplars, and breaking ever and anon into dashing cascades; in her marble palaces, with mosaic walls and arabesque ceilings, and splendid mosques, where the khalifs of a thousand years have worshiped; and in her long, rich bazars, where are seen the shawls of Cashmere, the carpets of Persia, the silks of the East, and her own Damascus blades, jeweled daggers, and gold-embroidered robes.

The great plain on which Damascus stands is 21 miles wide, and has an elevation of 2200 feet above the sea. Triangular in shape, it is bounded on the northwest by the anti-Lebanon range, which varies in height from 500 to 1500 feet; along its southwestern border flows the River Pharpar, beyond which are the Mountains of HaurÂn, which are dimly seen upon the horizon; on the east are three lakes, surrounded by a dense thicket, and bounding the horizon beyond is a range of conical hills. On this rich plain, covered with vegetation, are over 100 villages, containing a population of 40,000 souls. The eastern portion is called El-Merj, while that lying around the city bears the name of GhÛtah. Its perennial fertility is due to the Abana and Pharpar, “rivers of Damascus.” The highest sources of the latter are near the village ’Arny, in a large basin-like glen in Mount Hermon. Enlarged by several smaller streams near Sa’sa’, its clear waters sweep along in a deep, narrow bed, confined on one side by a rugged wall of volcanic rock, and on the other by cliffs of limestone. At first a small, lively stream, it increases in volume as it flows eastward, and, after meandering through rich meadows, it enters the southern of the three lakes, not far from the town of HeijÂny. The Abana rises in a high plain south of ZebedÂny, on anti-Lebanon. The head of the stream is called Fijeh, and is one of the largest and most beautiful fountains in Syria. Bursting forth from a narrow cave, it leaps, foams, and roars as it descends to a confluence with other streams, when at once it becomes a rapid torrent 30 feet wide and four deep. Cutting its way through the mountain, its channel widens and deepens, and from its bed rise cliffs 1000 feet high, and white almost as the snow of Hermon. Rushing in a southeasterly direction down the mountain, and issuing upon the plain through a wild chasm, it turns eastward, and, flowing along the north wall of Damascus, takes its way across the plain to the two northern lakes. Whether we consider the beautiful blue tinge of its waters, or their deliciousness, or their fertilizing power, or the sylvan lakes and pretty cascades they form, the Abana is deservedly the most celebrated of Syrian rivers. To secure the advantages to be derived from such a deep, broad stream, its waters are diverted from its channel through not less than nine canals for the supply of the city and the irrigation of the plain.

Somewhere on this plain, to the southeast of the city, occurred two great events—the meeting of Hazael and the Prophet Elisha,687 and the conversion of St.Paul.688 Elisha came from Palestine, and, when near Damascus, Hazael met him with a present from Benhadad, the then reigning king, who was lying dangerously ill. Ambitious and unscrupulous, Hazael returned to his royal master with the prophetic promise of recovery; but, taking advantage of the king’s debility, Hazael murdered Benhadad and mounted the throne of Syria.

Nearly a thousand years later, and perhaps upon the same spot, occurred the other and grander event. On leaving Jerusalem, Saul of Tarsus pursued the ancient caravan track to the capital of Syria. Having passed in his journey the most renowned cities in Palestine, and the scenes of the most important events in the history of Christ, he at length drew near to Damascus. It was while his heart swelled with pride and hope at the prospect of the speedy consummation of his terrible mission that “suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun,” and he “heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” Though it is not possible to identify the exact spot where he fell to the ground, the features of the landscape remain unchanged. There now, as then, the white dome of Hermon is on the south; the bare ridge of anti-Lebanon is on the north; while to the east are the gardens, the domes, and towers of Damascus. Now, as then, the sky is cloudless, and a Syrian sun shines in his strength; and now, as then, the peasant in the same field drives his oxen with sharp goads, which illustrate, if they did not suggest, the words of Jesus, “It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.”

Damascus is too old to have ruins. She has outlived Nineveh, and Babylon, and Thebes, and Palmyra, and Ba’albek, and Greece, and Rome, and, retaining the freshness of her youth, seems destined to live throughout all time. Though successively the prize of the Persian, the Greek, the Roman, the Saracen, the Christian, and now of the Turk, yet by some mysterious law she has resisted the changes of fortune incident to the change of rulers, and, prospering under each dynasty, she is still the greatest commercial city of Asiatic Turkey, carrying on, as in olden times, an extensive trade with Egypt, Persia, Bagdad, and the Bedouins of the Eastern desert.

But her high antiquity and thrilling religious history possess a peculiar interest. Coming from Southern Mesopotamia, the cradle of our race, across the Syrian desert, the great grandchildren of Noah settled on the banks of the Abana. Here, in after years, Abraham found Eliezer, the faithful steward of his household;689 and in the little town of Burzeh, near by, the patriarch lived. Here flow the Abana and Pharpar, which Naaman thought “better than all the waters of Israel;” and here was the captive home of the little maid, whose simple story about the Lord’s prophet of Samaria induced the proud Syrian to visit Gilgal to be “recovered of his leprosy.”690 Hither came Elijah and Elisha to reprove kings and anoint their successors;691 and hither, but paramount in the grandeur of its results to all other events, came St.Paul, to receive his sight and obtain the peace of heaven.692 Christian affection has preserved the memory of the sites of many of these events. The house of Judas, where Paul lodged, and the home of Ananias, who baptized the great apostle of the Gentiles, are still pointed out with affectionate remembrance. The “street which is called Straight,” into which the repentant persecutor was led, is correctly named, being a mile long, and running east and west through the centre of the town. In the Roman age it was 100 feet wide, and divided into three avenues by rows of Corinthian columns, with corresponding portals; but at present neither the gates nor the colonnades remain. To the south of the city is the gate KisÂn, which has been closed for 700 years. Near this portal is located the scene of St.Paul’s escape, where, in his own words, “Through a window in a basket was Ilet down by the wall and escaped.”693 In the lapse of time and through the devastations of war the window is gone, but on the east wall of the city are several buildings, with projecting windows, from which many persons were let down during the recent massacre; and to the east of the wall is the traditional site of Naaman’s palace, on which has been erected a leper’s hospital, probably for his descendants.

Though Damascus has survived the mightiest cities of the past, the vast cemeteries in the environs of the town, crowded with the dead, are a mournful proof that the countless generations, which from the most remote ages have dwelt within her gates and reclined in her fragrant gardens, have gone down to their graves. Wandering among the monuments of those venerable grave-yards, Isaw the tombs of three of Mohammed’s wives; of Fatima, his granddaughter, the unfortunate child of Aly; of Moawyeh, the founder of the dynasty of the Ommiades; and of SaladÎn, the victor of HattÎn.

Damascus is built on both banks of the Abana, a mile and a half from the base of the lowest ridge of anti-Lebanon. It is encompassed with a wall, exhibiting specimens of the masonry of every age from the Roman to the present time, and which is penetrated by seven gates occupying their ancient sites. Of an irregular oval shape, the old city, the nucleus of the present town, is on the south bank of the river. Here stands the massive castle, a large quadrangular building 840 feet long by 600 broad, the foundations of which were laid by the Romans and the superstructure reared by the Saracens. Through this portion of the city runs the “street called Straight,” and on its northern side are the principal buildings—the churches of the Christians, the Khan As’ad Pasha, and the Great Mosque. The latter structure is the most imposing and magnificent edifice in Damascus. Built in the form of a quadrangle, it is 489 feet long by 324 wide. On its northern side is a spacious court 431 feet long and 125 broad, surrounded by cloisters, with arches springing from granite and marble columns. The interior is divided into a nave and aisles, formed by two rows of Corinthian columns. The floor is of tesselated marble, covered with Persian carpets, and the walls are incased with mosaics and various colored marbles. Beneath the transept is a cave, said to contain, in a gold casket, the head of John the Baptist. From the centre of the transept rises a noble dome, 50 feet in diameter and 120 high, resting on four massive piers. The exterior is adorned with three minarets, the loftiest of which is 250 feet high. It is generally supposed that this grand mosque stands on the site of the temple of the god Rimmon, and that here Naaman deposited the “two mules’ burden of earth” which he had brought from the Plains of Jericho;694 and here probably stood that beautiful altar which excited the admiration of King Ahaz, and which served as the model for the altar he caused to be constructed in Jerusalem.695

On the opposite bank of the river is a large suburb, the Turkish quarter of the city, containing the residences of the chief officers of the government and of the army. To the west are the barracks, and to the southward is the MeidÂn, through which runs a broad avenue, the ordinary route taken by the pilgrim caravan on its way to Mecca.

The chief resorts of the Damascenes for pleasure are the numerous and elegant cafÉs, several of which are on the banks of the Abana. Here platforms are erected over the foaming waters, shaded by willows, poplars, palms, and cypresses. At night a thousand miniature lamps of varied forms and colors glimmer among the branches of the trees and are reflected in the river below, while turbaned Turks while away the hours sipping delicious Mocha coffee from thimble-sized cups, whiffing the best Stamboul tobacco-smoke through ornamented chibouks, humming some monotone chant, or listening to the recital of some Oriental tale of love, prodigality, or war. Damascus is at once a commercial and manufacturing city. The principal articles manufactured are silks, woolen and cotton cloths, gold and silver ornaments, confections, nargilies, boots, shoes, slippers, and pattens worn by the belles of the town. The bazars are usually filled with articles of home manufacture, and those imported from Manchester, Birmingham, Lyons, Paris, Constantinople, Cashmere, and Bagdad. Arranged in open stalls, the bazars are among the most interesting objects to be seen by the Occidental. Here he witnesses the activity and trade of the city, and beholds scenes unlike any thing of the kind to be seen in the West. He is soothed by the odor of perfumes and spices; his appetite is tempted by preserved fruits and confectioneries; he is delighted or offended by the scent of various kinds of tobacco; he is bewildered by the sound of the hammers of the silversmiths; his curiosity is awakened by the odd-shaped boots and slippers; and his admiration is excited by costly diamonds, emeralds, rubies, robes, antique armors, Damascus blades, and jeweled daggers.

Previous to the fearful massacre of 1860 the population of Damascus numbered 150,000 souls. Of these, 129,000 were Moslems, 6000 Jews, and 15,000 Christians; but the murders, captivities, and dispersions incident to that dreadful tragedy have reduced the Christian population to less than two thirds its original number. The Christians were among the most wealthy and intelligent citizens; their dwellings and churches were of the most splendid order, and by their thrift and industry they had added largely to the revenues of the city. But the fanaticism of the Moslems culminated in a murderous assault, the results of which are too well known to the world. The cause was deep-seated and inveterate, the occasion puerile and trifling. Several Mohammedan and Christian boys were at play in one of the streets, and the former, evincing the spirit of persecution, drew the figure of a cross upon the sand, and then attempted to compel the latter to trample upon it; but, equally and strongly attached to the religion of their fathers, they resisted, and a scuffle followed. Learning the cause of the trouble, the parents of the Christian boys caused the Mohammedan lads to be arrested and brought before the city judge. It was the torch applied to the magazine. Indignant and infuriated, the Moslem parents collected their friends, who proceeded to the Christian Quarter and commenced the terrible assault. The fathers, sons, and husbands of the Christian families were absent from their residences, absorbed in the business of their several callings. The attack was made in mid-afternoon, and in an hour the whole Moslem population was engaged in the work of death and destruction. Their religious hatred had been long suppressed, but their pent-up fury now burst forth like the sudden and violent irruption of a volcano. The tocsin was sounded, and the followers of the Crescent hastened to exterminate the adherents of the Cross. Entering their dwellings, Christian mothers, wives, and daughters were surprised by their ravishers and murderers, while their husbands, fathers, and sons were slain in the streets by hundreds while hastening to rescue their beloved ones. Escaping through windows, and leaping from the roofs of their dwellings, the Christian women sought refuge in their churches and monasteries; but, forgetful of the reverence due the sacred sanctuaries, the Moslems applied the torch, consuming the edifices and the helpless refugees within them. The flames continued to spread till a third of the city, and by far the most elegant portion, had been reduced to ashes. Where the house of a Christian adjoined that of a Mohammedan, it was torn down rather than fired, lest the ungovernable flames might consume what had not been doomed to destruction. In a covered alley not far from “Straight” street, 300 women, the accomplished wives and daughters of merchant princes, took refuge; but their merciless persecutors added death to insult, and sabred them on the spot. The wild Bedouins who chanced to be in the city dispatched couriers to their companions, who, mounted on their fleet horses, came as on the wings of the wind to abuse and murder the helpless.

The third point of attack on that memorably sad day was the residence of the American Vice-Consul, Dr.Mashaka, one of the most eminent of Arabic scholars. His ample fortune allowed him to live in princely style, and his family is the most accomplished Isaw in the East. His daughter was wounded, his son was missing for three days, and the person of his beautiful and excellent wife was barely rescued from the licentious and murderous Moslems by the timely interposition of a female friend. He himself was wounded, and only escaped death by the heroic behavior of his Mohammedan cawass, and by flight to the residence of Abd-el-Kader.

Day after day the work of death and conflagration went on. Magnificent cathedrals, stately monasteries, and splendid private residences were reduced to heaps of shapeless ruins. Every where were to be seen broken fountains, shattered vases, fragments of mosaic pavements, tesselated marble walls, and arabesque ceilings, with costly furniture strewn about in utter confusion. Even the small stone house which tradition had consecrated as the home of the good Ananias suffered from the torch of persecution. The fine residences of the American missionaries were consumed, and their large and valuable libraries scattered among the dÉbris of their homes. In addition to the slain, 500 of the fair sisters and daughters of those who survived the massacre were carried to the mountains by the wild Bedouins of the Hauran. Thousands of Christian families became fugitives, their homes, fortunes, and hopes forever ruined. The Christian Mission was broken up, and their church, in which 400 worshipers assembled on the Sabbath in the enjoyment of a pure faith, was consumed. Bishops, priests, and monks fled, and Damascus was given over to Mohammed and the Devil. The authorities of the city connived with the mob, and the government troops joined in the acts of violence. But there was one humane Mohammedan who attempted to stay the massacre, and whose home afforded shelter to the defenseless. Abd-el-Kader, with 300 Algerian soldiers, who had followed their celebrated chief into exile, stood as a wall of brass against the fanaticism and fury of the murderers. At the head of his little band, he drove the mob from places which they had attacked, he pursued those who were bearing off helpless women, and swore the death of any who should invade his home to dispatch those who had taken refuge beneath his roof. Inflexible in purpose as he was invincible in courage, he himself became the object of their revenge. Undaunted by their threats and repelling their attacks, he became the enemy of the Moslem, but the friend and benefactor of the Christian. Great as he is humane, he will long be remembered with delight by the civilized world.

It was in the afternoon of the last day Ispent in Damascus that Ienjoyed an interview with this distinguished man. After waiting in the reception-room, which was plainly furnished, while the servant announced our names, the Emir appeared at the fountain in a spacious court-yard, and invited us to seats in an elegant apartment, on divans of embroidered satin. Small cups of Mocha coffee were passed, according to the invariable etiquette of a Mohammedan house. The conversation, which had been general, now turned upon the recent massacre, and the noble part he had acted in the sad drama. His modesty, however, allowed him to say but little, but he kindly showed us the several national presents he had received as testimonials of his generous deeds. Greece had sent him two gold stars, on one of which was a medallion likeness of King Otho, and on the other were the words, “Thy right hand, OLord, is glorified;” Turkey had presented him with two massive silver stars, bearing the appropriate inscription, “Protection, Zeal, and Fidelity;” France had conferred on him the “Cross of the Legion of Honor,” encircled with emeralds and diamonds, and surmounted with a gold crown; the “Free and Accepted Masons” had bestowed upon him the symbols of their Order; Sardinia, and Russia, and Austria, and Prussia had honored him with gold stars set with jewels; and from the United States he had received a magnificent brace of revolvers, of which he seemed justly proud. Though thus honored by all these great powers, he had received no gift of remembrance from England; and when assured by an English gentleman present that much had been said in his country about a gift, the Emir quietly replied, “Iprefer works to words.” This failure on the part of England to recognize the magnanimity of this extraordinary man is inexplicable. By the Turks it is regarded as an acquiescence in the fearful slaughter. This is unjust; the cause, however, is to be found in her truckling policy toward the Turkish empire, and in her unwillingness to offend the religious sensibilities of the inhuman Moslem. Abd-el-Kader is now in the prime of life, of full habit, above the medium height, with a full face, large head, high, rounded brow, eyes large, black, and lustrous, beard slight and dark, and the expression of his countenance, when in repose, is that of benevolence and kindliness; but the peculiar shape of his mouth, together with his general air, indicate decision, courage, and the capacity of being, when circumstances demand, impetuous and even desperate. He is celebrated for the terrible battles he fought with the French in Algiers, and at present is confined within the limits of Damascus as their prisoner of war. The protection he extended to the Christians has rendered him unpopular with the Moslems of the city of his exile, and he desires another more congenial with his tastes and sentiments. He is a devout Mohammedan, but, were he a Christian, what a splendid leader he would make to unite and lead the Syrian Christians to victory!