Beyroot, July 4th, 1836.

I think I informed you that Beyroot is a walled town, and has a strong garrison. It is held under Ibrahim Pasha, and for his father or step-father Mahommed Ali of Egypt. Ibrahim spends most of his time north of this at Aleppo, Tripoli, Scanderoon, and Tarsoos. He is erecting a palace not far from Aleppo, and may possibly purpose making that his home. Beyroot is the most important port on the coast, but still its trade is small. The walls are of considerable height, appear strong, and have several strong towers connected with them. The number of troops at this place I have not been able to ascertain with certainty; there must be several thousands, possibly from 3000 to 5000.

I have been equally unable to ascertain the population of the town and suburbs; nearly one-third of the population, I should think, live without the walls, in what is called the Gardens. The houses without the walls are much more pleasant, at least in summer, than those within the town. They stand apart; have gardens and trees about them, are higher and much more cool. The town stands in a low spot, is much crowded with houses, has narrow filthy streets, and during the hot weather the heat is considerable, which causes sickness. The gates of the town are guarded, and at an early hour in the night all but one are closed. This one is kept open to a late hour.

At the quay, or public landing-place, there is an immense number of old, broken pillars. The wall fronting the bay is for thirty, possibly fifty yards, composed almost wholly of them. Most of them are more or less broken. Many of them have been connected, no doubt, with buildings of consequence, as their high finish seems to indicate; a number of them are fine Egyptian marble. They are of various sizes, but most of them of the largest kind. Broken pieces of pillars and other work in marble are to be seen in many places about the town, both without and within the walls, all indicating that, at some period, this was the seat of wealth and taste, of luxury and splendour.

Brumanah, Mount Lebanon, July 20th, 1836.

After getting out of quarantine, and spending ten or twelve days in Beyroot to see the place, I came up to this village, where the mission families are spending the summer months. It lies about three hours' ride from Beyroot, on the top of one of the ridges which runs down from the main ridge of the Lebanon towards the sea. It may be about one-third of the way to the top, and one-third of the height of Jebal Sun-neen, the highest point of Mount Lebanon. We have from Bru-ma-nah a fair view of the mountains, as they rise above us, and run far to the north-east and south-west: a long sea coast spreads out before us—the town of Beyroot—the shipping that lies off the town on the face of the smooth waters, all rise into view, and give a rich and beautiful variety to the prospect.

Nearly one-half of the village is composed of Greeks, and the other half about equally divided between the Druses and Maronites. They all speak the Arabic, which is indeed the vernacular language of this region. The people appear friendly, and but for the influence of the priests would, no doubt, give more proof of their friendship. The missionaries have opened a school among them, which promises to do good. The females wear what is called the tantoor on their heads. It is very like those tin horns which are often used by hunters to call their dogs; stage-drivers at times use them. The tantoor is a foot long; the largest part is fixed to the forehead, and by means of a small piece of wood, or some such thing, which passes over the head, and is fastened to the hair, the whole is made to stand upon the head like a horn. It usually leans forward, and reminds one of the figure of the unicorn. The horn is of silver, and has at times various ornamental devices engraved on it. The chief use of it seems to be to sustain the veil, which is universally worn by the women here. It is thrown over the horn, and hangs down over the shoulders. When men are present, they draw the veil with one hand close over the mouth, so as to cover the lower part of the face, leaving but one eye exposed. While they are thus careful to cover the face, they often, I might say usually, leave the breast most shamefully exposed. Indeed, they seem to have pride in exposing that part of the body.

Sometime before I got out of quarantine, there was a death in the Emeer family of this village; and, as is the custom, the people are not allowed to wash their clothes for forty days—as they are not much given to cleanliness at any time, this was an order grievously out of place. About the time I came up the people were most fearfully dirty. The days of restriction are, however, past, and it is thought the people have been using water. It is a rare evil for people to get habituated to—a disregard of cleanliness—for it is hard to correct the evil.

Most, if not all, of the houses here are of one story—a few, indeed, that stand on the hill-side, have a small room under the elevated side of the main floor. The floors are uniformly, as far as I have seen, made of clay, as also is the roof. They wet it and make it into a kind of mortar, and have a heavy stone roller with which to make it smooth. For the roof, pieces of timber are laid across, mostly a few strong beams, then across them smaller pieces of boards, and flat stones; and on these the earth is laid, in a wet state, and the roller made to pass over it, until with that and their feet they make it hard and smooth. All the roofs are flat, having some little channels to collect the water, and a low place at one side to let it off. There is a way of ascending to the top, which, in large houses, is a fine place for walking and taking the air. These roofs do very well in dry weather, but in the rainy season the water, it is said, comes through, and gives much annoyance to the inmates. The sides are usually made of stone, very coarsely put together; very little mortar is used—often none. They plaster the inside with clay, such as they use for making the floors; and give it a slight coat of whitewash. It is, to be sure, done in poor style; still the houses do pretty well for a summer residence. Generally they have but one room, but occasionally they have two or three.

These flat roofs and their earthen materials illustrate what was meant by the grass upon the house-tops—grass does often spring up in the wet season, but the heat of the sun withers it and it comes to nought.

"Shall men give into your bosom?"—The usual dress here, is a long robe, not much unlike a woman's gown. It is fastened about the waist with a girdle. This is a long, large piece, often as large, and even much larger than a sheet, but of a fine texture; usually of the shawl kind. They wrap this round them four or five times, forming a band from four inches to a foot wide, as the taste of each may be,—then give such a fastening to the end as each may choose. It is odd, and to us laughable to see them putting them on. I have seen them fasten the end of their long girdle to a door, post, or table—adjust its folds—regulate its width—put one end to their body, and turn round and round until they have wrapped it all to their liking. Yea, I have seen them do it on the road. On my visit to Nice, not long after I left that plain, I passed a man on the road who from some cause wished to adjust his girdle. Possibly it was a preparation before he entered that city of ancient name. He had stopped, taken off his girdle, adjusted its width, arranged its folds, fastened one end of it to a bush, drew it out to its full length, applied the other end to his side, and holding it, turned round and round carefully, attending to its width and the adjustment of its folds. I felt strongly disposed to laugh, and had there been any one to join me in it, I doubt not should have laughed heartily, the danger of offending the gravity of the Turk to the contrary notwithstanding. But there is no fun in laughing alone; and my old Greek guide looked as grave as if he saw nothing amusing, in seeing a man winding himself in a shawl. But to the point I meant to illustrate. The part of the dress above the girdle having an opening, is used for stowing away all sorts of things; handkerchiefs, when they have any; bread, fruit, &c., nothing comes amiss; they put it into the bosom. As the receptacle goes all round the body, it is equal to three or four of those large pockets our great-grandmothers used to wear.