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THE WOMEN

OF

THE ARABS.


_WITH A CHAPTER FOR CHILDREN._


BY


Rev. HENRY HARRIS JESSUP, D.D.,

_Seventeen years American Missionary in Syria._


EDITED BY
Rev. C.S. ROBINSON, D.D., & Rev. ISAAC RILEY.


"The threshold weeps forty days when a girl is born."
--_Mt. Lebanon Proverb._


NEW YORK:
DODD & MEAD, PUBLISHERS.


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1873, by
DODD & MEAD,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.




_THIS BOOK_

IS DEDICATED TO THE

CHRISTIAN WOMEN OF AMERICA.




                              Beirût, Syria, _July, 1873_.

        _Owing to the impossibility of my attending personally to the
    editing of this volume, I requested my old friends_, Rev. C.S.
    Robinson, D.D., _and_ Rev. Isaac Riley, _of New York, to superintend
    the work, and would gratefully acknowledge their kind and
    disinterested aid, cheerfully proffered at no little sacrifice of
    time._

                                                  H.H. JESSUP.




PREFACE.


The Orient is the birthplace of prophecy. Before the advent of our Lord,
the very air of the East was resounding with the "unconscious prophecies
of heathenism." Men were in expectation of great changes in the earth.
When Mohammed arose, he not only claimed to be the deliverer of a
message inspired of Allah, but to foretell the events of futurity. He
declared that the approach of the latter day could be distinguished by
unmistakable signs, among which were two of the most notable character.

Before the latter day, the _sun shall rise in the West_, and God will
send forth a cold odoriferous wind blowing from _Syria Damascena_, which
shall _sweep away_ the souls of all the faithful, and _the Koran
itself_. What the world of Islam takes in its literal sense, we may take
in a deeper spiritual meaning. Is it not true, that far in the West, the
gospel sun began to rise and shed its beams on Syria, many years ago,
and that in our day that cold odoriferous wind of truth and life,
fragrant with the love of Jesus and the love of man, is beginning to
blow from Syria Damascena, over all the Eastern world! The church and
the school, the printing press and the translated Bible, the periodical
and the ponderous volume, the testimony of living witnesses for the
truth, and of martyrs who have died in its defence, all combine to sweep
away the systems of error, whether styled Christian, Moslem or Pagan.

The remarkable uprising of christian women in Christian lands to a new
interest in the welfare of woman in heathen and Mohammedan countries, is
one of the great events of the present century. This book is meant to be
a memorial of the early laborers in Syria, nearly all of whom have
passed away. It is intended also as a record of the work done for women
and girls of the Arab race; to show some of the great results which have
been reached and to stimulate to new zeal and effort in their behalf.

In tracing the history of this work, it seemed necessary to describe the
condition of woman in Syria when the missionaries first arrived, and to
examine the different religious systems, which affect her position.

In preparing the chapter on the Pre-Islamic Arabs, I have found valuable
materials in Chenery's Hariri, Sales and Rodwell's Koran, and Freytag's
Arabic Proverbs.

For the facts about the Druze religion, I have consulted Col.
Churchill's Works, Mount Lebanon, and several Arabic manuscripts in the
mission library in Beirût.

Rev. S. Lyde's interesting book called the "Asian Mystery," has given me
the principal items with regard to the Nusairîyeh religion. This
confirms the statements of Suleiman Effendi, whose tract, revealing the
secrets of the Nusairîyeh faith, was printed years ago at the Mission
Press in Beirût, and translated by that ripe Arabic Scholar Prof. E.
Salisbury of New Haven. The bloody Nusairîyeh never forgave Suleiman for
revealing their mysteries; and having invited him to a feast in a
village near Adana, 1871, brutally buried him alive in a dunghill!

For the historical statements of this volume, I am indebted to the files
of the Missionary Herald, the Annual Reports of the Syria Mission, the
archives of the mission in Beirût, the memoir of Mrs. Sarah L. Smith,
and private letters from Mrs. Whiting, Mrs. De Forest, and various
missionary and native friends.

Information on the general work of the Syrian Mission may be found in
Dr. Anderson's "Missions to the Oriental churches," Rev. Isaac Bird's
"Bible Work in Bible Lands," and the pamphlet sketches of Rev. T. Laurie
and Rev. James S. Dennis.

The specimens of poetry from ancient Arabic poetesses, have been
gathered from printed and manuscript volumes, and from the lips of the
people.

Some accounts of child life in Syria and specimens of Oriental stories
and nursery rhymes have been gathered into a "Children's Chapter." They
have a value higher than that which is given by mere entertainment as
they exhibit many phases of Arab home life. The illustrations of the
volume consist of drawings from photographs by Bergheim of Jerusalem and
Bonfils of Beirût.

The pages of Arabic were electrotyped in Beirût by Mr. Samuel Hallock,
the skilful superintendent of the American Press.

I send out this record of the work carried on in Syria with deep
gratitude for all that the Lord has done, and with an ardent desire that
it may be the means of bringing this great field more vividly before the
minds of Christian people, of wakening warmer devotion to the missionary
cause, and so of hastening the time when every Arab woman shall enjoy
the honor, and be worthy of the elevation which come with faith in Him
who was first foretold as the seed of the woman.

                                        HENRY HARRIS JESSUP.
Beirût, Syria, Nov. 28, 1872.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.
                                                             PAGE
_State of Women among the Arabs of the Jahiliyeh,
or the "Times of the Ignorance."_                               1

CHAPTER II.
_State of Women in the Mohammedan World._                       7

CHAPTER III.
_The Druze Religion and Druze Women._                          20

CHAPTER IV.
_Nusairîyeh._                                                  35

CHAPTER V.
_Chronicle of Women's Work from 1820 to 1872._                 45

CHAPTER VI.
_Mrs. Whiting's School._                                       57

CHAPTER VII.
_Dr. De Forest's Work in Beirût._                              73

CHAPTER VIII.
_Re-opening of the School in Beirût._                          97

CHAPTER IX.
_Luciya Shekkur._                                             114

CHAPTER X.
_Raheel._                                                     120

CHAPTER XI.
_Hums._                                                       140

CHAPTER XII.
_Miriam the Aleppine._                                        151

CHAPTER XIII.
_Modern Syrian Views with regard to Female Education._        158

CHAPTER XIV.
_Bedawin Arabs._                                              180

CHAPTER XV.
_Woman between Barbarism and Civilization._                   191

CHAPTER XVI.
_Opinions of Protestant Syrians with regard to the
Work of American Women in Syria._                             200

CHAPTER XVII.
_Other Labors for Women and Girls in this Field._             204

CHAPTER XVIII.
_The Amount of Biblical Instruction given in Mission
Schools._                                                     215

CHAPTER XIX.
_The Children's Chapter._                                     233




THE

WOMEN OF THE ARABS.




CHAPTER I.

STATE OF WOMEN AMONG THE ARABS OF THE JAHILIYEH, OR THE "TIMES OF THE
IGNORANCE."


In that eloquent Sura of the Koran, called Ettekwir, (lxxxi.) it is
said, "When the _girl buried alive_ shall be asked for what sin she was
slain." The passage no doubt refers to the cruel practice which still in
Mohammed's time lingered among the tribe of Temîm, and which was
afterwards eradicated by the influence of Islam. The origin of this
practice has been ascribed to the superstitious rite of sacrificing
children, common in remote times to all the Semites, and observed by the
Jews up to the age of the Captivity, as we learn from the denunciations
of Jeremiah. But in later times daughters were buried alive as a matter
of household economy, owing to the poverty of many of the tribes, and to
their fear of dishonor, since women were often carried off by their
enemies in forays, and made slaves and concubines to strangers.

So that at a wedding, the wish expressed in the gratulations to the
newly-married pair was, "with concord and sons," or "with concord and
permanence; with sons and no daughters." This same salutation is
universal in Syria now. The chief wish expressed by women to a bride is,
"may God give you an arees," _i.e._ a bridegroom son.

In the Koran, Sura xiv, Mohammed argues against the Arabs of Kinaneh,
who said that the angels were the daughters of God. "They
(blasphemously) attribute daughters to God; yet they _wish them not for
themselves_. When a female child is announced to one of them, his face
grows dark, and he is as though he would choke."

The older Arab Proverbs show that the burying alive of female children
was deemed praiseworthy.

     "To send women before to the other world, is a benefit."

     "The best son-in-law is the grave."

The Koran also says, that certain men when hearing of the birth of a
daughter hide themselves "from the people because of the ill-tidings;
shall he keep it with disgrace, or bury it in the dust." (Sura xvi.)

It is said that the only occasion on which Othman ever shed a tear, was
when his little daughter, whom he was burying alive, wiped the dust of
the grave-earth from his beard!

Before the Seventh Century this practice seems to have been gradually
abandoned, but was retained the longest in the tribe of Temîm. Naman,
king of Hira, carried off among his prisoners in a foray, the daughter
of Kais, chief of Temîm, who fell in love with one of her captors and
refused to return to her tribe, whereupon her father swore to bury alive
all his future female children, which he did, to the number of ten.

Subsequent to this, rich men would buy the lives of girls devoted to
inhumation, and Sa Saah thus rescued many, in one case giving two milch
camels to buy the life of a new-born girl, and he was styled "the
Reviver of the Maidens buried alive."

The following Arabic Proverbs having reference to women and girls _will
illustrate_ the ancient Arab ideas with regard to their character and
position, better than volumes of historic discourse:

     "Obedience to women will have to be repented of."

     "A man can bear anything but the mention of his women."

     "The heart of woman is given to folly."

     "Leave not a girl nor a green pasture unguarded."

     "What has a girl to do with the councils of a nation?"

     "If you would marry a beauty, pay her dowry."

     "Fear not to praise the man whose wives are true to him."

     "Woman fattens on what she hears." (flattery)

     "Women are the whips of Satan."

     "If you would marry a girl, inquire about the traits of her
     mother."

     "Trust neither a king, a horse, nor a woman. For the king is
     fastidious, the horse prone to run away, and the woman is
     perfidious."

     "My father does the fighting, and my mother the talking about it."

     "Our mother forbids us to err and runs into error."

     "Alas for the people who are ruled by a woman!"

The position of woman among the Arabs before the times of Mohammed can
be easily inferred from what has preceded. But there is another side to
the picture. Although despised and abused, woman often asserted her
dignity and maintained her rights, not only by physical force, but by
intellectual superiority as well. The poetesses of the Arabs are
numerous, and some of them hold a high rank. Their poetry was impromptu,
impassioned, and chiefly of the elegiac and erotic type. The faculty of
improvisation was cultivated even by the most barbarous tribes, and
although such of their poetry as has been preserved is mostly a kind of
rhymed prose, it often contains striking and beautiful thoughts. They
called improvised poetry "the daughter of the hour."

The queen of Arabic poetesses is El Khunsa, who flourished in the days
of Mohammed. Elegies on her two warrior brothers Sakhr and Mu'awiyeh are
among the gems of ancient Arabic poetry. She was not what would be
called in modern times a refined or delicate lady, being regarded as
proud and masculine in temper even by the Arabs of her own age. In the
eighth year of the Hegira, her son Abbas brought a thousand warriors to
join the forces of the Prophet. She came with him and recited her poetry
to Mohammed. She lamented her brother for years. She sang of Sakhr:

    "His goodness is known by his brotherly face,
    Thrice blessed such sign of a heavenly grace:
    You would think from his aspect of meekness and shame,
    That his anger was stirred at the thought of his fame.
    Oh rare virtue and beautiful, natural trait,
    Which never will change by the change of estate!
    When clad in his armor and prepared for the fray,
    The army rejoiceth and winneth the day!"

Again, she lamented him as follows:

    "Each glorious rising sun brings Sakhr to my mind,
    I think anew of him when sets the orb of day;
    And had I not beheld the grief and sorrow blind
    Of many mourning ones o'er brothers snatched away,
    I should have slain myself, from deep and dark despair."

The poet Nabighah erected for her a red leather tent at the fair of
Okaz, in token of honor, and in the contest of poetry gave her the
highest place above all but Maymûn, saying to her, "If I had not heard
him, I would say that thou didst surpass every one in poetry. I confess
that you surpass all women." To which she haughtily replied, "Not the
less do I surpass all men."

The following are among the famous lines of El Khunsa, which gave her
the title of princess of Arab poetesses. The translation I have made
quite literal.

    "Ah time has its wonders; its changes amaze,
    It leaves us the tail while the head it slays;
    It leaves us the low while the highest decays;
    It leaves the obscure, the despised, and the slave,
    But of honored and loved ones, the true and the brave
    It leaves us to mourn o'er the untimely grave.
    The two new creations, the day and the night,
    Though ceaselessly changing, are pure as the light:
    But man changes to error, corruption and blight."

The most ancient Arab poetess, Zarîfeh, is supposed to have lived as
long ago as the Second Century, in the time of the bursting of the
famous dyke of Mareb, which devastated the land of Saba. Another
poetess, Rakâsh, sister of the king of Hira, was given in marriage, by
the king when intoxicated, to a man named Adi.

Alas, in these days the Moslem Arabs do not wait until blinded by wine,
to give their daughters in marriage to strangers. I once overheard two
Moslem young men converging in a shop, one of whom was about to be
married. His companion said to him, "have you heard anything about the
looks of your betrothed?" "Not much," said he, "only I am assured that
she is _white_."

In a book written by Mirai ibn Yusef el Hanbali, are the names of twenty
Arab women who improvised poetry. Among them are Leila, Leila el
Akhyalîyeh, Lubna, Zeinab, Afra, Hind, May, Jenûb, Hubaish, Zarifeh,
Jemîleh, Remleh, Lotifeh, and others. Most of the verses ascribed to
them are erotic poetry of an amatory character, full of the most
extravagant expressions of devotion of which language is capable, and
yet the greater part of it hardly bearing translation. It reminds one
strikingly of Solomon's Song, full of passionate eloquence. And yet in
the poetry of El Khunsa and others, which is of an elegiac character,
there are passages full of sententious apothegms and proverbial wisdom.




CHAPTER II.

STATE OF WOMEN IN THE MOHAMMADAN WORLD.


Our knowledge of the position of women among the Mohammedans is derived
from the Koran, Moslem tradition, and Moslem practice.

I. In the first place, the Koran does not teach that women have no
souls. Not only was Mohammed too deeply indebted to his rich wife
Khadijah, to venture such an assertion, but he actually teaches in the
Koran the immortality and moral responsibility of women. One of his
wives having complained to him that God often praised the men, but not
the women who had fled the country for the faith, he immediately
produced the following revelation:

     "I will not suffer the work of him among you who worketh to be
     lost, whether he be male or female." (Sura iii.)

In Sura iv. it is said:

     "Whoso doeth good works, and is a true believer, whether male or
     female, shall be admitted into Paradise."

In Sura xxxiii:

    "Truly, the Muslemen and the Muslimate, (fem.)
    The believing men and the believing women,
    The devout men and the devout women,
    The men of truth and the women of truth,
    The patient men and the patient women,
    The humble men and the humble women,
    The charitable men and the charitable women,
    The fasting men and the fasting women,
    The chaste men and the chaste women,
    And the men and women who oft remember God;
    For them hath God prepared
    Forgiveness and a rich recompense."

II. Thus Mohammedans cannot and do not deny that women have souls, but
their brutal treatment of women has naturally led to this view. The
Caliph Omar said that "women are worthless creatures and soil men's
reputations." In Sura iv. it is written:

    "Men are superior to women, on account of the qualities
    With which God has gifted the one above the other,
    And on account of the outlay they make, from their substance for them.
    Virtuous women are obedient....
    But chide those for whose refractoriness
    Ye have cause to fear ... _and scourge them_."

The interpretation of this last injunction being left to the individual
believer, it is carried out with terrible severity. The scourging and
beating of wives is one of the worst features of Moslem domestic life.
It is a degraded and degrading practice, and having the sanction of the
Koran, will be indulged in without rebuke as long as Islamism as a
system and a faith prevails in the world. Happily for the poor women,
the husbands do not generally beat them so as to imperil their lives, in
case their own relatives reside in the vicinity, lest the excruciating
screams of the suffering should reach the ears of her parents and bring
the husband into disgrace. But where there is no fear of interference or
of discovery, the blows and kicks are applied in the most merciless and
barbarous manner. Women are killed in this way, and no outsider knows
the cause. One of my Moslem neighbors once beat one of his wives to
death. I heard her screams day after day, and finally, one night, when
all was still, I heard a dreadful shriek, and blow after blow falling
upon her back and head. I could hear the brute cursing her as he beat
her. The police would not interfere, and I could not enter the house.
The next day there was a funeral from that house, and she was carried
off and buried in the most hasty and unfeeling manner. Sometimes it
happens that the woman is strong enough to defend herself, and conquers
a peace; but ordinarily when you hear a scream in the Moslem quarter of
the city and ask the reason, it will be said to you with an indifferent
shrug of the shoulder, "that is only some man beating his wife."

That thirty-eighth verse of Sura iv. is one of the many proofs that the
Koran is not the book of God, because it violates the law of love.
"Husbands love your wives," is a precept of the Gospel and not of the
Koran. Yet it is a sad fact that the nominal Christians of this dark
land are not much better in this respect than their Moslem neighbors.
The Greeks, Maronites and Papal Greeks beat their wives on the slightest
provocation. In the more enlightened towns and cities this custom is
"going out of fashion," though still often resorted to in fits of
passion. Sometimes the male relatives of the wife retaliate in case a
husband beats her. In the village of Schwire, in Lebanon, a man beat his
wife in a brutal manner and she fled to the house of her brother. The
brother watched his opportunity; waylaid the offending husband, and
avenged his sister's injuries by giving him a severe flogging. In
Eastern Turkey, a missionary in one of the towns noticed that not one
woman attended church on Sunday. He expostulated with the Protestants,
and urged them to persuade their wives to accompany them. The next
Sunday the women were all present, as meek and quiet as could be wished.
The missionary was delighted, and asked one of the men how they
persuaded them to come? He replied, "We all beat our wives soundly until
they consented to come!" This wife-beating custom has evidently been
borrowed by the Christian sects from their Moslem rulers and oppressors,
and nothing but a pure Christianity can induce them to abandon it.

III. Some have supposed that there will be no place in the Moslem
Paradise for women, as their place will be taken by the seventy-two
bright-eyed Houris or damsels of Paradise. Mohammed once said that when
he took a view of Paradise he saw the majority of its inhabitants to be
the poor, and when he looked down into hell, he saw the _greater part_
of the wretches confined there to be _women_! Yet he positively promised
his followers that the very meanest in Paradise will have eighty
thousand servants, seventy-two wives of the Houris, _besides the wives
he had in this world_. The promises of the Houris are almost exclusively
to be found in Suras, written at a time when Mohammed had only a single
wife of sixty years of age, and in all the ten years subsequent to the
Hegira, women are only twice mentioned as the reward of the faithful.
And this, while in four Suras, the proper wives of the faithful are
spoken of as accompanying their husbands into the gardens of bliss.

    "They and their wives on that day
    Shall rest in shady groves." (Sura 36.)

    "Enter ye and your wives into Paradise delighted." (Sura 43.)

    "Gardens of Eden into which they shall enter
    Together with the just of their fathers, and their wives." (Sura 13.)

An old woman once desired Mohammed to intercede with God that she might
be admitted to Paradise, and he told her that no old woman would enter
that place. She burst into loud weeping, when he explained himself by
saying that God would then make her young again.

I was once a fellow-passenger in the Damascus diligence, with a
Mohammedan pilgrim going to Mecca by way of Beirût and Egypt, in company
with his wife. I asked him whether his wife would have any place in
Paradise when he received his quota of seventy-two Houris. "Yes," said
he, looking towards his wife, whose veil prevented our seeing her,
although she could see us, "if she obeys me in all respects, and is a
faithful wife, and goes to Mecca, she will be made more beautiful than
all the Houris of Paradise." Paradise is thus held up to the women as
the reward of obedience to their husbands, and this is about the sum and
substance of what the majority of Moslem women know about religion.

Women are never admitted to pray with men in public, being obliged to
perform their devotions at home, or if they visit the Mosques, it must
be at a time when the men are not there, for the Moslems are of opinion
that the presence of women inspires a different kind of devotion from
that which is desirable in a place set apart for the worship of God.

The Moslem idea of woman is vile and degraded. A Moslem absent from home
never addresses a letter to his wife, but to his son or brother, or some
male relative. It is considered a grievous insult to ask a Moslem about
the health of his wife. If obliged to allude to a woman in conversation,
you must use the word "ajellak Allah," "May God elevate you" above the
contamination of this subject! You would be expected to use the same
expression in referring to a donkey, a dog, a shoe, a swine or anything
vile. It is somewhat like the Irish expression, "Saving your presence,
sir," when alluding to an unpleasant subject.

A Greek christian (?) in Tripoli came to an American Missionary
physician and said, "there is a woman, 'ajell shanak Allah' here who is
ill. I beg your pardon for mentioning so vile a subject to your
excellency." Said the doctor, "and who may it be?" "Ajellak, it is my
wife!"

I remember once meeting the Mohammedan Mufti of Beirût in Dr. Van Dyck's
study at the printing press. The Mufti's wife, (at least _one_ of them,)
was ill, and he wished medical advice, but could not insult the Doctor
by alluding to a woman in his presence. So he commenced, after
innumerable salutations, repeating good-morning, and may your day be
happy, until he could decently proceed to business. "Your excellency
must be aware that I have a sick man at my house. May God grant you
health! Indeed, peace to your head. Inshullah, it is only a slight
attack!" "He has pain in his back, headache, and he will not eat." "Has
he any fever?" "A little." "I will come and see _her_ this afternoon."
"May God increase your good. Good morning, sir!"

The Mohammedan laws with regard to polygamy, inheritance and divorce,
are a decided advance on the Pagan Arabs of "the Ignorance."

The Pagan Arabs allowed any number of wives. The Koran allows _only
four_ to any believer, the prophet himself having peculiar privileges in
this respect. The modern practice of Mohammedans in taking a score or
more of wives is directly contrary to the Koran. The Pagan Arabs
suffered no woman to have any part of the husband's or father's
inheritance, on the ground that none should inherit who could not go to
war, and the widows were disposed of as a part of their husband's
possessions. The Koran says, (Sura iv.) "Women ought to have a part of
what their parents leave." A male shall have twice as much as a female.
But a man's parents, and also his brothers and sisters are to have equal
shares, without reference to sex. "God commandeth you to give the male
the portion of two females. If she be an only daughter, she shall have
the half. Your wives shall have a fourth part of what ye leave, if ye
have no issue."

Among the Pagan Arabs, divorce was a mere matter of caprice. The Koran
says, (Sura ii.) "You may divorce your wives twice (and take them back
again). But if the husband divorce her a third time, it is not lawful
for him to take her again, until she shall have been actually married to
another husband, and then divorced by him." I have known cases where the
husband in a fit of passion has divorced his wife the third time, and,
in order to get her back again, has _hired another man_ to marry her and
then divorce her. A rich Effendi had divorced his wife the third time,
and wishing to re-marry her, hired a poor man to marry her for a
consideration of seven hundred piastres. He took the wife and the money,
and the next day refused to give her up for less than five thousand
piastres, which the Effendi was obliged to pay, as the woman had become
the lawful and wedded wife of the poor man.

No Mohammedan ever walks with his wife in the street, and in Moslem
cities, very few if any of men of other sects are willing to be seen in
public in company with a woman. The women are closely veiled, and if a
man and his wife have occasion to go anywhere together, he walks in
advance and she walks a long distance behind him. Nofel Effendi, one of
the most learned and intelligent Protestants in Syria, once gave me the
explanation of this aversion to walking in public with women, in a more
satisfactory manner than I had ever heard it before. Said he, "You
Franks can walk with your wives in public, because their faces are
unveiled, and it is _known that they are your wives_, but our women are
so closely veiled that if I should walk with my wife in the street, no
one would know whether I was walking with my own wife or another man's!
You cannot expect a respectable man to put himself into such an
embarrassing position!" No Moslem woman or girl would dare go into the
street without a veil, for fear of personal chastisement from the
husband and father, and the Greek, Maronite and other nominal Christian
women in Syria shrink from exposing their faces, through fear of insult
from the Mohammedans.

When European women, either residents or travellers, pass through the
Moslem quarter of these cities of Syria and Palestine, with faces
unveiled, they are made the theme of the most outrageous and insulting
comments by the Moslem populace. Well is it for the feelings of the most
of these worthy Christian women, that they do not understand the Arabic
language. The Turkish governor of Tripoli was obliged to suppress the
insulting epithets of the Moslems towards European ladies when they
first began to reside there, by the infliction of the bastinado.

In 1857, the Rev. Mr. Lyons in Tripoli, hired Sheikh Owad, a Moslem
bigot, to teach him the Arabic grammar. He was a conceited boor; well
versed in Arabic grammar, but more ignorant of geography, arithmetic and
good breeding than a child. One day Mrs. Lyons passed through the room
where he was teaching Mr. L. and he turned his head away from her and
spat towards her with a look of unutterable contempt. It was the last
time he did it, and he has now become so civilized that he can say good
morning to the wife of a missionary, and even consent to teach the
sacred, pure and undefiled Arabic to a woman! I believe that he has not
yet given his assent to the fact that the earth revolves on its axis,
but he has learned that there are women in the world who know more than
Sheikh Owad.

In ancient times Moslem women were occasionally taught to read the
Koran, and among the wealthier and more aristocratic classes, married
women are now sometimes taught to read, but the mass of the Moslem men
are bitterly opposed to the instruction of women. When a man decides to
have his wife taught to read, the usual plan is to hire a blind
Mohammedan Sheikh, who knows the Koran by heart. He sits at one side of
the room, and she at the other, some elderly woman, either her mother or
her mother-in-law, being present. The blind Sheikhs have remarkable
memories and sharp ears, and can detect the slightest error in
pronunciation or rendering, so they are employed in the most of the
Moslem-schools. The mass of the Mohammedans are nervously afraid of
entrusting the knowledge of reading and writing to their wives and
daughters, lest they abuse it by writing clandestine letters to improper
persons. "Teach a _girl_ to read and write!" said a Mohammedan Mufti in
Tripoli to me, "Why, she will _write letters_, sir,--yes, _actually
write letters_! the thing is not to be thought of for a moment." I
replied, "Effendum, you put your foot on the women's necks and then
blame them for not rising. Educate your girls and train them to
intelligence and virtue, and then their pens will write only what ought
to be written. Train the hand to hold a pen, without training the mind
to direct it, and only mischief can result." "_Saheah, saheah_," "very
true, very true," said he, "But how can this be done?"

It has begun to be done in Syria. From the days of Mrs. Sarah L. Smith
to the present time, Moslem girls have been taught to read and write and
sew, and there are many now learning in the various American, British
and Prussian schools. But it will be long before any true idea of the
dignity of woman enters the debased minds of Arab Mohammedans. The
simple fact is that there is no moral purity or elevation among the men,
and how can it be expected among the women. The Moslem idea of woman is
infinitely lower than the old Jewish idea. Woman in the time of Christ
was highly honored. Believing women followed Christ throughout Galilee
and Judea, and although enemies stood watching with hateful gaze on
every side, not one word of insinuation was ever lisped against them. It
is a most sadly impressive fact to one living in Syria at the present
day, that the liberty and respect allowed to woman in the days of our
Saviour would now be absolutely impossible. In purely Greek or Maronite
or Armenian villages, the women enjoy far greater liberty than where
there is a Moslem element in the population. And it is worthy of remark
and grateful recognition, that although Christianity in the East has
sunk almost to a level, in outward morality, with the Islamic and
semi-Pagan sects, there is a striking difference between the lowest
nominal Christian community and the highest Mohammedan, in the respect
paid to woman. Ignorant and oppressed as the Greek and Maronite women
may be, you feel on entering their houses, that the degrading yoke of
Moslem brutality is not on their necks. Their husbands may be coarse,
ignorant and brutal, beating their wives and despising their daughters,
mourning at the birth of a daughter, and marrying her without her
consent, and yet there are lower depths of coarseness and brutality, of
cruelty and bestiality, which are only found among Mohammedans. I once
suggested to a Tripoli Moslem, that he send his daughters to our Girls'
School, then taught by Miss Sada Gregory, a native teacher trained in
the family of Mrs. Whiting, and he looked at me with an expression of
mingled pity and contempt, saying, "Educate a _girl_! You might as well
attempt to educate _a cat_!"

Not two months since, I was conversing with several of the aristocratic
Mohammedans of Beirût, who were in attendance at the commencement of the
Beirût Protestant Medical College. The subject of the education of girls
was introduced, and one of them said, "we are beginning to have our
girls instructed in your Protestant schools, and would you believe it, I
heard one of them read the other day, (probably his own daughter,) and
she actually asked a question about the construction of a noun preceded
by a preposition! I never heard the like of it. The things do
distinguish and understand what they read, after all!" The others
replied, "_Mashallah! Mashallah!_" "The will of God be done!"

Some ten years ago, an influential Moslem Sheikh in Beirût, who was a
personal friend of Mr. Araman, the husband of Lulu, brought his daughter
Wahidy (only one) to the Seminary to be instructed, on condition that no
man should ever see her face. As Mr. Araman himself was one of the
teachers, and I was accustomed to make constant visits to the school,
she was obliged to wear a light veil, which she drew adroitly over her
face whenever the door was opened. This went on for months and years,
until at length in recitation she would draw the veil aside. Then she
used to listen to public addresses in the school without her veil, and
finally, in June, 1867, she read a composition on the stage at the
Public Examination, on, "The value of education to the women and girls
of Syria," her father, Sheikh Said el Ghur, being present, with a number
of his Moslem friends.




CHAPTER III.

THE DRUZE RELIGION AND DRUZE WOMEN.


The great expounder and defender of the Druze religion is Hamzé, the
"Universal Intelligence," the only Mediator between God and man, and the
medium of the creation of all things. This Hamzé was a shrewd, able and
unprincipled man. In his writings he not only defends the abominations
of Hakem, but lays down the complete code of Druze doctrine and duty.

It is the belief of many, and said to be the orthodox view among the
Druzes that their system as such is to last exactly 900 lunar years. The
date of the Druze era is 408 Hegira, or 1020 A.D. The present year,
1872, corresponds to the year 1289 Anno Hegira, so that _in nineteen
lunar years_ the system will begin to come to an end according to its
own reckoning, and after 1000 years it will cease to exist. Others have
fixed this present year as the year of the great cataclysm, but the
interpreters are so secret and reserved in their statements, that it is
only by casual remarks that we can arrive at any idea of their real
belief. Lying to infidels is such a meritorious act, that you cannot
depend on one word they say of themselves or their doctrines. Their
secret books, which were found in the civil wars of 1841 and 1845, have
been translated and published by De Sacy, and we have a number of them
in the original Arabic manuscripts in the Mission Library in Beirût.
From a chapter in one of these, entitled "Methak en Nissa," or the
"Engagements of Women," I have translated the following passages, to
show the religious position of women, as bearing upon my object in
describing the condition of Syrian females.

"Believers are both male and female. By instruction women pass from
ignorance to knowledge, and become angels like the Five Ministers who
bear the Throne: _i.e._, the Doctrine of the Unity. All male and female
believers ought to be free from all impurity and disgrace and dishonor.
Believing women should shun lying (to the brethren) and infidelity and
concupiscence, and the appearance of evil, and show the excellency of
their work above all Trinitarian women, avoiding all suspicion and taint
which might bring ill upon their brethren, and avoiding giving attention
to what is contrary to the Divine Unity.

"We have written this epistle to be read to all believing women who hold
to the Unity of Hakem, who knows His Eternity and obey their husbands.
But let no Dai or Mazûn read it to a woman until he is well assured of
her faith and her religion, and she shall have made a written profession
of her faith. He shall not read it to one woman alone, nor in a house
where there is but one woman, even though he be worthy of all
confidence, lest suspicion be awakened and the tongue of slander be
loosed. Let there be assembled together at least three women, and let
them sit behind a curtain or screen, so as not to be seen. Each woman
must be accompanied by her husband, or her father, or brother or son, if
he be a Unitarian. The Dai in reading must keep his eyes fixed on his
book, neither turning towards the place where the women are, nor casting
a glance towards it, nor listening to them. The woman, moreover, must
not speak a word during the reading, and whether she is affected by a
transport of joy, or moved by an impression of respect and fear, she
must carefully abstain from showing her feelings either by smiles or
tears. For the smiles, the tears, and the words of a woman may excite
man's passions. Let her give her whole attention to the reading, receive
it in her heart, and apply all the faculties of her mind to understand
its meaning, in order clearly to conceive the true signification of what
she is listening to. If she finds any passage obscure, let her ask the
Dai, (the preacher,) and he shall answer, if he can, and if not, promise
to ask those who are more learned, and when he has obtained the solution
he must inform her, if she be deemed worthy.

"The highest duty of Unitarian women is to know our Moulah Hakem and the
Kaim Hamzé. If they follow Him, let them know that He has released them
entirely from the observance of the Seven Arbitrary Pillars of the Law
(of Islam) which are (1) Prayer, (2) Fasting, (3) Pilgrimage, (4)
Asserting, There is no God but God and Mohammed is the Prophet of God,
(5) Giving tithes, (6) War on infidels, (7) Submission to authority. But
on the other hand, all believing women must perform the Seven Religious
Duties: The First and greatest is Truth in your words: (_i.e._ to the
brethren and sisters); the Second is, To watch reciprocally over the
safety of the brethren; the Third is, to renounce wholly and entirely
whatever religion you may have previously professed; the Fourth is, To
keep yourselves apart, clear and distinct from all who are in error; the
Fifth is, To recognize the existence of the Unity of our Lord in all
ages, times and epochs; the Sixth is, To be satisfied with His will and
His works, whatever they may be; The Seventh is, To abandon and resign
yourselves to all His orders whether in prosperity or adversity. You
must keep these Seven Commandments, and keep them strictly secret from
all who are of a different religion. If the Druze women do all this and
fulfil their duties, they are indeed among the good, and shall have
their reward among the 159 Angels of the Presence and among the Prophets
who were Apostles, and be saved from the snare of the accursed Iblîs
(Diabolus). Praise then to our Lord Hakim, the praise of the thankful!
He is my hope and victory!"

What can you expect of the women, if the teachers are thus warped with
hypocrisy and falsehood. They receive you politely. Dr. De Forest used
to say, that there is not a boor in the Druze nation. But their very
politeness confounds you. The old Druze women are masters of a pious
religious phraseology. "We are all sinners." "The Lord's will be done."
"Praise to His name." "He only can command." "The Lord be merciful to
us." "He orders all things," and yet they will lie and deceive, and if
not of the initiated class, they will swear in the most fearful manner.
The Okkal cannot swear, smoke or drink, but they tell a story of a
village where the people were all Okkal, and things having reached a
high pitch of excitement, they sent for a body of Jehal or the
non-initiated to come over and swear on the subject, that their pure
minds might be relieved! When they talk in the most affectingly pious
manner, and really surpass you in religious sentiment, you hardly know
what to do. Tell them God knows the heart. They reply, "He alone is the
All-knowing, the Searcher of the hearts of men." You shrink from telling
them in plain language that they are hypocrites and liars. You _can_
tell them of the _personal love_ of a personal Saviour, and this simple
story will affect and has affected the minds of some of them more than
all logic and eloquent refutation of their foggy and mysterious
doctrinal system.

They respect us and treat us politely for political reasons. During the
massacres of 1860, I rode from Abeih to Beirût in the midst of burning
villages, and armed bodies of Druzes passed us shouting the war song "Ma
hala ya ma hala kotal en Nosara," "How sweet, oh how sweet, to kill the
Christians," and yet as they passed us they stopped and most politely
paid their salams, saying, "Naharkum Saieed," "May your day be blessed,"
"Allah yahtikum el afiyeh," "God give you health!"

When a Druze Sheikh wishes to marry, he asks consent of the father
without having seen the daughter. If the father consents, he informs
her, and if she consents, the suitor sends his affianced presents of
clothes and jewelry, which remain in her hands as a pledge of his
fidelity. She is pictured to him as the paragon of beauty and
excellence, but he is never allowed to see her, speak to her, or write
to her, should she know how to write. His mother or aunt may see her or
bring reports, but he does not see her until the wedding contract is
signed and the bride is brought to his house.

The following is the marriage ceremony of the Druzes. It is read by the
Kadi or Sheikh, and in accordance to the Druze doctrine that they must
outwardly conform to the religion of the governing power, it is a purely
Mohammedan ordinance.

"Praise to God, the original Creator of all things; the Gracious in all
His gifts and prohibitions; who has decreed and fixed the ordinance of
marriage; may Allah pray for (bless) our Prophet Mohammed, and his four
successors! Now after this, we say that marriage is one of the laws
given by the prophets, and one of the statutes of the pious to guard
against vice; a gift from the Lord of the earth and the heaven. Praise
to Him who by it has brought the far ones near, and made the foreigner a
relative and friend! We are assembled here to attend to a matter
decreed and fated of Allah, and whose beginning, middle and end he has
connected with the most happy and auspicious circumstances. This matter
is the blessed covenant of marriage. Inshullah, may it be completed and
perfected, and praise to Allah, the Great Completer! Amen!

"In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate. He is my portion
and sufficiency. May Allah pray for his pure prophet!"

This is the marriage contract between the person named A. son of ---- of
the village of ---- in the district of ---- in Lebanon, and his
betrothed named B. the daughter of ---- of the village of ---- she being
a maiden of full and marriageable age, with no legal obstacles to her
marriage. (May Allah protect her veil, and have mercy on her relatives
and friends!)

In view of the mercies of Allah and his prophet Mohammed, they pay fifty
piastres ($2.00) of full and lawful number, weight and measure, of the
Imperial mint of our Moulah the Sultan, (may the exalted and merciful
One give him the victory!) and of new white silver. The agent of the
husband is ---- and of the wife is ----.

It is the absolute and bounden duty of the husband to provide clothing
for the body of his wife and a crown for her head, and of the wife to
give him his due honor and rights and do his work, and Allah will be
with those who fear Him, and not suffer those who do well to lose their
reward.

                                        Signed Sheikh ---- (seal)
                     --                          seal
         Witnesses   --                          seal
                     --                          seal

A whole week is given up to festivity before her arrival, and the
retinue of the bride mounted on fine horses escort her amid the firing
of musketry, the _zilagheet_ shrieks of the women, and general
rejoicing, to the bridegroom's house. Col. Churchill describes what
follows: "The bride meantime, after having received the caresses and
congratulations of her near relatives, is conducted to a chamber apart
and placed on a divan, with a large tray of sweetmeats and confectionery
before her, after which all the females withdraw and she is left alone,
with a massive veil of muslin and gold thrown over her head and covering
her face, breasts and shoulders down to the waist. What thoughts and
sensations must crowd upon the maiden's mind in this solitude! not to be
disturbed but by him who will shortly come to receive in that room his
first impressions of her charms and attractions! Presently she hears
footsteps at the door; it opens quietly; silently and unattended her
lover approaches her, lifts the veil off her face, takes one glance,
replaces it and withdraws."

He then returns to the grand reception-room, takes his seat at the head
of the divan amid the throng of Sheikhs and other invited guests. He
maintains an imperturbable silence, his mind being supposed to be
absorbed by one engrossing object. It may be delight. It may be bitter
disappointment. It is generally past midnight when the party breaks up
and the family retires.

A plurality of wives is absolutely forbidden. If a Druze wishes to
divorce his wife, he has merely to say, "You had better go back to your
father," or she, the woman, wishes to leave her husband, she says, "I
wish to go back to my father," and if her husband says, "Very well, go,"
the divorce in either case holds good, and the separation is
irrevocable. Both parties are free to re-marry. Childlessness is a
common cause of divorce.

The birth of a son is the occasion of great rejoicing and presents to
the family. But the birth of a daughter is considered a misfortune, and
of course not the slightest notice is taken of so inauspicious an event.
This holds true among all the sects and peoples of Syria, and nothing
but a Christian training and the inculcation of the pure principles of
gospel morality can remove this deeply seated prejudice. The people say
the reason of their dislike of daughters is that while a son builds up
the house, and brings in a wife from without and _perpetuates the family
name_, the daughter pulls down the house, loses her name, and is lost to
the family.

The wealthier and more aristocratic Druze sitts or ladies are taught to
read by the Fakih or teacher, but the masses of the women are in brutish
ignorance. You enter a Druze house. The woman waits upon you and brings
coffee, but you see only _one eye_, the rest of the head and face being
closely veiled. In an aristocratic house, you would never be allowed to
see the lady, and if she goes abroad, it is only at night, and with
attendants on every side to keep off the profane gaze of strangers. If a
physician is called to attend a sick Druze woman, he cannot see her
face nor her tongue, unless she choose to thrust it through a hole in
her veil. In many cases they suffer a woman to die sooner than have her
face seen by a physician.

The Druzes marry but one wife at a time, and yet divorce is so common
and so heartlessly practiced by the men, that the poor women live in
constant fear of being driven from their homes.

In Abeih, we were startled one evening by the cry "Rouse ye men of self
respect! Come and help us!" It was a dark, rainy night, and the earthen
roof of a Druze house had fallen in, burying a young man, his wife and
his mother, under the mass of earth, stones and timber. They all escaped
death, but were seriously injured, the poor young wife suffering the
most of all, having fallen with her left arm in a bed of burning coals,
and having been compelled to lie there half an hour, so that when dug
out, her hand was burned to a cinder! For several days the husband
refused to send for a doctor, but at length his wife Hala was sent to
the College Hospital (of the Prussian Knights of St. John) in Beirût
where Dr. Post amputated the hand below the elbow.

One would naturally suppose that such a calamity, in which both so
narrowly escaped death, would bind husband and wife together in the
strongest bonds of affection and sympathy. But not so in this case. The
poor young wife is now threatened with divorce, because she is no longer
of any use to her husband, and her two little children are to be taken
from her! She lies on her bed in the Hospital, the very picture of
stoical resignation. Not a groan or complaint escapes her.

She said one day, "Oh how glad I am that this happened, for it has taken
away all my sins, and I shall never have to suffer again in this world
or the next!" This is the doctrine of the Druzes, and, cold and false as
it is, she has made it her support and her stay.

Dr. Post and Mrs. Bliss have pointed her to the Lamb of God "who bore
our sins in His own body on the tree," and she seems interested to hear
and learn more.

Her younger sister is in the Beirût Seminary. May this poor sufferer
find peace where alone it can be found, in trusting in the Lord Jesus
Christ, whose blood cleanseth from all sin!

The cruelty of her husband, sanctioned as it is by the religious code of
the Druzes, may be the means of opening her eyes to the falsity of that
heartless Christless system, and lead her to the foot of the Cross!

Christians, who read these lines, pray for Hala of Abeih!


SITT ABLA.

More than twenty years ago in the little Druze village of Aitath, in
Lebanon, about seven miles from Beirût, lived a family of Druze Sheikhs
of the tribe of Telhûk. This tribe was divided into the great Sheikhs
and the little Sheikhs, and among the latter was the Sheikh Khottar. The
proximity of this village to Beirût, its elevated position, cool air,
and fine fountain of water, made it a favorite summer retreat for the
missionaries from the withering heats of the plain. Sheikh Khottar and
his wife the Sitt, having both died, their orphan son Selim and daughter
Abla, called the Sitt (or lady) Abla, were placed under the care of
other members of the family of Telhûk. The missionaries opened a school
for boys and Selim attended it. Dr. and Mrs. Van Dyck were living in
Aitath at the time, and the young Druze maiden Abla, who was betrothed
to a Druze Sheikh, became greatly attached to Mrs. Van Dyck, and came
almost constantly to visit her. The light of a better faith and the
truth of a pure gospel gradually dawned upon her mind, until her love
for Mrs. Van Dyck grew into love for the Saviour of sinners. The Sheikh
to whom she was betrothed was greatly enraged at her course in visiting
a Christian lady, and meeting her one day when returning to her home,
attacked her in the most brutal manner, and gave her a severe beating.
She fled and took refuge in the house of Mrs. Van Dyck, who had taught
her to read and given her a Bible. A short time after, several of her
cousins seized her and scourged her most cruelly, and a violent
persecution was excited against her and her brother Selim. She was in
daily and hourly expectation of being killed by her male relatives, as
it had never been heard of in the Druze nation that a young girl should
dare to become a Christian, and Mr. Whiting, missionary in Abeih, sent
over a courageous Protestant youth named Saleh, who took the Sitt Abla
by night over the rough mountain road to Abeih in safety. But even here
she was not safe. The Druzes of Lebanon at that time were at the height
of their feudal power. Girls and women were killed among them without
the least notice on the part of the mountain government. Abla was like a
prisoner in the missionary's house, not venturing to go outside the
door, and in order to be at peace, she went down with her brother to
Beirût, where she has since resided. Selim united with the Church, but
was afterwards suspended from communion for improper conduct, and joined
himself to the Jesuits, so that Abla has had to endure a two-fold
persecution from her Druze relatives and her Jesuit brother. On her
removal to Beirût she was disinherited and deprived of her little
portion of her father's estate, and her life has been a constant
struggle with persecution, poverty and want. Yet amid all, she has stood
firm as a rock, never swerving from the truth, or showing any
disposition to go back to her old friends. At times she has suffered
from extreme privation, and the missionaries and native Protestants
would only hear of it through others who happened to meet her. Since
uniting with the Church in 1849 she has lived a Christian life. In a
recent conversation she said, "I count all things but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, _for whom I have
suffered the loss of all things_ ... and I still continue, by the grace
of Him Exalted, and by the merits of Jesus Christ my Saviour, awaiting
a happy death, and everlasting rest."


KHOZMA.

Her Christian experience is like that of Khozma Ata. She is the only
female member of the Protestant church in Syria from among the Druzes,
except Sitt Abla. She was born, in Beirût of the Druze family of Witwat,
and when quite a child was taken by Dr. Beadle, then by Miss Tilden,
living at one time in Aleppo, then in Jerusalem, and finally settled in
the family of Dr. De Forest, where she continued until his departure for
America in 1854. For several years she has been an invalid, and is not
often able to leave her house, even to go to church. Two of her little
girls are in the Female Seminary. In 1861 she taught a day school for
girls in Beirût, and assisted Dr. De Forest in his work in the Beirût
Seminary. I called upon her a few days since, and she handed me a roll
of Arabic manuscript, which she said she had been translating from the
English. It is a series of stories for children which she has prepared
to be printed in our monthly journal for Syrian children. The name of
the journal is "koukab es Subah," or "Morning Star." She has been
confined to her bed a part of the summer, and when she gave me the
manuscript, she apologized for the handwriting, on the ground that she
had written the most of it sitting or lying on her bed. She has not
forgotten the example and instructions of Dr. and Mrs. De Forest, and
speaks of them with enthusiastic interest. Her husband failed in
business some years ago, and she is in a constant struggle with want,
but her old friends and loving sisters, Raheel and Lulu, who are among
her nearest neighbors, are unremitting in their kind attentions to her.

What a difference between the faithful Christian nurture her little
children are receiving at home, and the worse than no training received
by the children of her Druze relatives at Ras Beirût, who are still
under the shadow of their old superstitions. She never curses her
children nor invokes the wrath of God upon them. She is never beaten and
spit upon and tortured and threatened with death by her husband. It is
worth much to have rescued a Khozma and an Abla from the degradation of
Druze superstition! These two good women, with Abdullah in Beirût, and
Hassan, Hassein, Asaad and Ali, in Lebanon, are among the living
witnesses to the preciousness of the love of Christ, who have come forth
from the Druze community. They have been persecuted, and may be again,
but they stand firm in Christ. Not a few Druze girls are gathered in our
schools in Beirût, Lebanon, and the vicinity of Hermon, as well as in
other schools in Damascus, Hasbeiya and elsewhere, and some of their
young men are receiving a Christian education.




CHAPTER IV.

NUSAIRIYEH.


To the North of Mount Lebanon, and along the low range of mountains
extending from Antioch to Tripoli, and from the Mediterranean on the
West to Hums on the East, live a strange, wild, blood-thirsty race
called the Nusairîyeh numbering about 200,000 souls, and now for the
first time in their history coming within the range of Missionary
effort.

The Druzes admit women to the Akkal or initiated class, but not so the
Nusairîyeh. The great secret of the Sacrament is administered in a
secluded place, the women being shut up in a house, or kept away from
the mysteries. In these assemblies the Sheikh reads prayers, and then
all join in cursing Abubekr, Omar, Othman, Sheikh et-Turkoman and the
Christians and others. Then he gives a spoonful of wine, first to the
Sheikhs present, and then to all the rest. They then eat fruit, offer
other prayers, and the assembly breaks up. The rites of initiation are
frightful in the extreme, attended by threats, imprecations and
blasphemous oaths, declaring their lives forfeited if they expose the
secrets of the order.

They use given signs and questions, by which they salute each other, and
ascertain whether a stranger is one of them or not. In their books they
employ the double interlacing triangle or seal of Solomon. They call
each other brethren, and enjoin love and truthfulness, but _only to the
brethren_. In this they are like the Druzes. So little do they regard
all outside their own sect, that they _pray to God to take out of the
hearts of all others than themselves, what little light of knowledge and
certainty they may possess_! The effect of this secret, exclusive, and
selfish system is shown in the conduct of the Nusairîyeh in robbing and
murdering Moslems and Christians without compunction.

As it has been said, the Nusairîyeh women are entirely excluded from all
participation in religious ceremonies and prayers, and from all
religious teaching. The reason given, is two-fold; the first being that
women cannot be trusted to keep a secret, and the second because they
are considered by the Nusairîyeh as something unclean. They believe that
the soul of a wicked man may pass at death into a brute, or he may be
punished for his sins in this life by being born in a woman's form in
the next generation. And so, if a woman live in virtue and obedience,
there is hope of her again being born into the world _as a man_, and
becoming one of the illuminati and possessors of the secret. It is a
long time for the poor things to wait, but it is a convenient reward for
their husbands to hold out before them.

Yet the women are so religiously inclined by nature that they will have
some object of worship, and while their husbands, fathers and sons are
talking and praying about the celestial hierarchies, and the
unfathomable mysteries, the wives, mothers and daughters will throng the
"zeyarehs," or holy visiting shrines, on the hill tops, and among the
groves of green trees, to propitiate the favor of the reputed saints of
ancient days. These shrines are supposed to have miraculous powers, but
Friday is the day when the prophets are more especially "at home," to
receive visitors. On other days they may be "on a journey," or asleep.
Whenever a Nuisairiyeh woman is in sorrow or trouble or fear, she goes
to the zeyareh and cries in a piteous tone, "zeyareh, hear me!"

Their women do not veil themselves, and consequently there is more of
freedom among them than among Moslems and Druzes, and in their great
festivals, men and women all dance together.

When a young man sees a girl who pleases him, he bargains with her
father, agreeing to pay from twenty dollars to two hundred, according to
the dignity of her family; of which sum she receives but four dollars,
unless her father should choose to give her a red bridal box and bedding
for her outfit. She rides in great state to the bridegroom's house amid
the firing of guns and shouts of the women, and on dismounting, the
bridegroom gives her a present of from one to three dollars, called the
"dismounting money."

Divorce needs only the will of the man, and polygamy is common. Lane
says in speaking of Egypt, "The depraving effects of this freedom of
divorce upon both sexes, may be easily imagined. There are many men in
this country who, in the course of ten years, have married as many as
twenty, thirty or more wives; and women, not far advanced in age, who
have been wives to a dozen or more men successively."

The Nusairîyeh women smoke, swear, and use the most vile and unclean
language, and even go beyond the men in these respects. Swearing and
lying are universal not only among the Nusairîyeh, but among the most of
the Syrian people. You never receive a direct reply from a Nusaîry. He
will answer your question by asking another, in order, if possible, to
ascertain your object in asking it and to conceal the true state of the
case. Their Moslem and nominal Christian neighbors are not much better.
They all lie, and swear, and deceive. Mr. Lyde illustrates the ignorance
of the Greek clergy in Latakiah by the following incident. A ploughman
who had learned something of the Bible, heard a Greek priest cursing the
father of a little child. He said, "My father, is it right to curse?"
"Oh," said he, "it was only from my lips." "But does not the psalmist
say, Keep the door of my lips?" "That," replied the priest, "is only in
the English Bible."

Walpole says of the Nusairîyeh women, "when young, they are handsome,
often fair, with light hair and jet-black eyes; or the rarer beauty of
fair eyes and coal-black hair or eyebrows."

When a fight takes place between the tribes, the women, like the women
of the Druzes, enter into the spirit of it with demoniacal fury. During
the battle they bring jars of water, shout, sing, and encourage the
men, and at the close carry off the booty, such as pots, pans, chickens,
quilts, wooden doors, trays, etc. In the Druze war of 1860, I saw the
Druze women running with the men through Aitath, on their way to the
scene of hostilities in the Metn. The Bedawin women likewise aid their
husbands in the commissariat of their nomad warfare.

The Rev. Mr. Lyde was the first to undertake direct missionary labors
among the Nusairîyeh, and his work has been carried on by the Reformed
Presbyterian Mission in Latakiah. The Rev. J. Beattie sends me the
following facts with regard to the work now going on among the women and
girls.

The first convert under the labors of Mr. Lyde was Hammûd, of the
village of Merj, a young man of fine mind and most lovely character, who
gave promise of great usefulness. After he became a Christian, his
mother, finding that no Nusaîry girl would marry a Christian, determined
to secure a young girl and have her educated for Hammûd. So she paid
four Turkish pounds for a little Nusaîry girl named Zahara or Venus,
whose widowed mother had removed to her village. This payment was in
accordance with Nusaîry customs, and constituted the girl's dowry. After
the betrothal in 1863, Hammûd sent her to Latakiah, where she was taken
into the family of the late Dr. Dodds for instruction and training. She
gladly received the truth, and Hammûd labored earnestly for her
enlightenment. Everything seemed bright and promising, until suddenly
all their earthly hopes were dashed by the early death of Hammûd in
December, 1864. He died in the triumphs of the Christian faith, and from
that time she gave herself to the Lord. In August, 1865, she with
several others was baptized and received into the communion of the
Church. At her own request, she was baptized as Miriam.

In 1866 she was married to Yusef Jedid, and lived with him in several of
the villages among the Nusairîyeh, where he was engaged in teaching. Her
husband at length removed to Bahlulîyeh in 1870, and a wide door of
usefulness was opened to them. Her little daughters Lulu and Helany were
with her, and there was every prospect that she would be able to do much
for Christ among her benighted sisters. But the same disease,
consumption, which prostrated Hammûd, now laid her aside. It was
probably brought on by a careless exposure of her health while lying
down on the damp ground and falling asleep uncovered, as the natives of
the mountain villages are in the habit of doing. The missionaries from
Latakiah constantly visited her, and Dr. Metheny gave her the benefit of
his medical skill, but all in vain. She loved to converse on heavenly
things, and hear the Scriptures and prayer. But when the missionaries
returned to the city, she was overwhelmed by the rebukes and merciless
upbraidings of the fellaheen, who have no sympathy for the sick, the
disabled and the dying. Her ears were filled with the sound of cursing
and bitterness, and no wonder that she entreated the missionaries not
to leave her. She told Mr. Beattie that she did not fear to die, for her
trust was in Jesus Christ, but it was hard to be left among such coarse
and unsympathizing people. At length she was brought into Latakiah,
where she seemed to feel more at home. At times she passed through
severe spiritual conflicts, and said she was struggling with the
adversary, who had tried to make her blaspheme. At one time she was in
great excitement, but when the 34th Psalm was read she became entirely
composed and calm, and in turn, began chanting the 23rd Psalm to the
end. She sent for all of her friends and begged their forgiveness,
commended her children to the care of Miss Crawford, and asked Mr.
Beattie to pray with her again. Her bodily sufferings now increased,
when suddenly she called out, "The Lord be glorified! To God give the
glory!" Soon after, she gently fell "asleep in Jesus." Thus died the
first woman, as far as we know, ever truly converted from among the
Pagan Nusairîyeh. Her conversion opened the way for that work of moral,
religious and intellectual elevation among the Nusaîry females which has
since been carried on in Latakiah and vicinity.

The first Christian woman to undertake the direct task of educating and
elevating the Nusairîyeh females was Miss Crawford. She commenced her
work in 1869. The Mission had found that the Boarding School for boys
was training a class of young men, who could not find, among the tens of
thousands of families in their native mountains, a single girl fitted
to be one's companion for life. The females were everywhere neglected,
and Miss Crawford came to Syria just at the time of the greatest need.
Under the care and direction of the Mission, she commenced a Boarding
School for girls in Latakiah in the fall of 1869. At first, but few
pupils could be persuaded to come. Only two attended during the first
year. Their names were Sada and Naiuf, the sister of Zahara. The next
year Sada left, and ten new ones entered the school: Marie, Howa,
Naiseh, Shehla, Thaljeh, (snow,) Tumra, (fruit,) Ghazella, Husna,
Bureib'han, and Harba. They were all from twelve to fourteen in age, and
remained through the winter, but at the beginning of wheat harvest,
their friends forced them to return to their homes for the summer. They
made marked progress both in study and deportment, and before leaving
for their homes passed a creditable examination both in their studies
and in needlework. The fact was thus established to the astonishment of
the citizens of Latakiah, that the Nusairîyeh girls were equal in
intellect and skill in needlework to the brightest of the city girls. In
the autumn of 1871 it was feared that the Pagan parents of the girls
would prevent their return to the school, but, greatly to the
gratification of the missionaries, all of the ten returned, bringing
with them nine others; Hamameh, (dove,) Henireh, Elmaza, (diamond,)
Deebeh,(she-wolf,) Alexandra, Zeinab, Lulu, (pearl,) Howwa, (Eve,) and
Naameh, (grace).

During the year the pupils brought new joy to the hearts of their
teachers. Not only were their numbers greatly increased, but the older
girls seemed all to be under the influence of deep religious impressions
on their return to the school. Although they had spent the summer among
the wild fellaheen and been compelled to listen to blasphemy, impurity
and cursing on every side, they had been able by the aid of God's Spirit
to discriminate between good and evil, and to contrast the lawless
wickedness of the fellaheen with the holy precepts of the Bible. Finding
themselves unable to meet the requirements of God's pure and holy law,
they returned under serious distress of mind, asking what they should do
to be saved? Such of them as could do so, had been in the habit of
meeting together during the summer for prayer, and of repeating the ten
commandments and other portions of Scripture with which they were
familiar. They had been threatened and beaten by their friends on
account of their religious views, but they remained unmoved. The
child-like simple faith of some of them was remarkable. Marie was
punished on one occasion by her father for attending the missionary
service at B'hamra on the Sabbath. He forbade her to eat for a whole
day, and she prayed that God would give her bread. Soon after, on her
way to the village fountain, she found part of a merkûk, loaf of bread,
by the wayside, which she picked up and ate most gratefully, regarding
it as a direct answer to her prayer. Another Ghuzaleh, was brutally
beaten because she would not swear and blaspheme, and all were
threatened and insulted because they would not work on Sunday.

In November, 1871, seven of these girls, on their own application, were
received into the membership of the Church. It was an interesting sight
to see that group of Nusairîyeh heathen girls standing to receive the
ordinance of Christian baptism. In the spring of 1872, another was added
to the list. These little ones of Christ have all thus far shown
themselves faithful. They were sent back to their homes in the summer,
and several, if not the most, of them may be forbidden to return again
to the school. Some may say, why allow them to go home? The policy of
encouraging children to run away from their parents and connect
themselves with foreign missionaries and missionary institutions, will
lead the heathen to hate the very name of Christianity, and to charge it
with being a foe to all social and family order, and on the broad ground
of missionary usefulness, the girls can do far more good in their own
homes than elsewhere.




CHAPTER V.

CHRONICLE OF WOMEN'S WORK FROM 1820 TO 1872.


It must not be inferred from what has been said on a preceding page with
regard to the favorable position occupied by the women of the nominal
Christian sects of Syria as compared with the Mohammedan women, that the
first missionaries found the Greek and Maronite women and girls who
speak the Arabic language eager or even willing to receive instruction.
Far from it. The effects of the Mohammedan domination of twelve hundred
years have been to degrade and depress all the sects and nationalities
who are subject to Islam. Not only were there not women and girls found
to learn to read, but the great mass of the men of the Christian sects
could neither read nor write. Many of the prominent Arab merchants in
Beirût to-day can neither read nor write. I say Arab merchants, and yet
very few of the Arabs of the Greek Church have more than a mere tinge of
Arab blood in their veins. To call them Syrians, would be to confound
them with the "Syrian" or "Jacobite" sect, who are found only in the
vicinity of Hums, Hamath and Mardin. So with the Maronites. They are
chiefly of a darker complexion than the Arab Greeks, and are supposed to
have had their origin in Mesopotamia. Yet all these sects and races
speak the common Arabic language, and hence it will be convenient to
call them Arabs, although I am aware, that while many of the modern
Syrians glory in the name "Oulad el Arab," many others regard it with
dislike.

The Syrian Christianity, moreover, so often alluded to in the history of
the Syrian Mission, is the lowest type of the religion of the Greek and
Roman churches. Saint-worship and picture-worship are universal. An
ignorant priesthood, and a superstitious people, no Bibles, and no
readers to read them, no schools and no teachers capable of conducting
them, prayers in unknown tongues, and a bitter feeling of party spirit
in all the sects, universal belief in the efficacy of fasts and vows,
pilgrimages and offerings to the shrines of reputed saints, churches
without a preached gospel, and prayers performed as a duty without the
worship of the heart, universal Mariolatry, a Sabbath desecrated by
priests and people alike, God's name everywhere profaned by men, women
and children, and truthfulness of lip almost absolutely unknown; the
women and girls degraded and oppressed and left to the tender mercies of
a corrupt clergy through the infamies of the confessional; all these
practices and many others which space forbids us to mention, combined
with the social bondage entailed upon woman by the gross code of Islam,
rendered the women of the nominal Christian sects of Syria almost as
hopeless subjects of missionary labor as were their less favored Druze
and Moslem sisters.

In order to present the leading facts in the history of Mission Work for
Syrian women, I propose to give a brief review of the salient points, in
the order of time, as I have been able to glean them from the missionary
documents within my reach.

The first Protestant missionary to Syria since the days of the Apostles,
was the Rev. Levi Parsons, who reached Jerusalem January 16, 1821, and
died in Alexandria February 10, 1822. In 1823, Rev. Pliny Fisk, and Dr.
Jonas King reached Jerusalem to take his place, and on the 10th of July
came to Beirût. Dr. King spent the summer in Deir el Kamr, and Mr. Fisk
in a building now occupied by the Jesuit College in Aintûra.

On the 16th of November, 1823, Messrs. Goodell and Bird reached Beirût,
and on the 6th of December, 1824, they wrote as follows: "Mr. King's
Arabic instructor laughs heartily that the ladies of our company are
served first at table. He said that if any person should come to his
house and speak to his wife _first_, he should be offended. He said the
English ladies have some understanding, the Arab women have none. It is
the custom of this country that a woman must never be seen eating or
walking, or in company with her husband. When she walks abroad, she must
wrap herself in a large white sheet, and look like a ghost, and at home
she must be treated more like a slave than a partner. Indeed, women are
considered of so little consequence that to ask a man after the health
of his wife, is a question which is said never to find a place in the
social intercourse of this country."

Jan. 24, 1825, Dr. Goodell wrote, "Some adult females come occasionally
to be taught by Mrs. Bird or Mrs. Goodell, and although their attendance
is very irregular, and their _disadvantages very great_, being _without
Arabic books_, and their friends deriding their efforts, yet they make
some improvement. One of them, who a fortnight ago did not know a single
letter of the alphabet, can now read one verse in the Bible."

July 1, 1825, Messrs. Goodell and Bird speak of the first girls taught
to read in Syria in mission schools. "Our school contains between eighty
and ninety scholars, who are all boys _except two_. One is the teacher's
wife, who is perhaps fifteen years of age, and the other a little girl
about ten." That teacher was Tannûs el Haddad, who died a few years ago,
venerated and beloved by all sects and classes of the people, having
been for many years deacon of the Beirût Church, and his wife, Im
Beshara, still lives, with an interesting family.

On the 21st of Dec, 1825, Dr. King wrote as follows: "I spent about a
month in Tyre, and made some efforts to establish a school for Tyrian
females, and was very near succeeding, when one of the principal priests
rose up and said, 'It is by no means expedient to teach women to read
the word of God. It is better for them to remain in ignorance than to
know how to read and write. They are quite bad enough with what little
they now know. Teach them to read and write, and _there would be no
living with them_!'" That Tyrian priest of fifty years ago, was a fair
sample of his black-frocked brethren throughout Syria from that time to
this. There have been a few worthy exceptions, but the Syrian priesthood
of all sects, taken as a class, are the avowed enemies of the education
and elevation of their people. Some of the exceptions to this rule will
be mentioned in the subsequent pages of this volume.

In 1826, there were three hundred children in the Mission schools in the
vicinity of Beirût.

In 1827, there were 600 pupils in 13 schools, of whom _one hundred and
twenty were girls_! In view of the political, social and religious
condition of Syria at that time, that statement is more remarkable than
almost any fact in the history of the Syrian Mission. It shows that Mrs.
Bird and Mrs. Goodell must have labored to good purpose in persuading
their benighted Syrian sisters to send their daughters to school, and to
these two Christian women is due the credit of having commenced Woman's
Work for Women in modern times in Syria. In that same year, the wives of
Bishop Dionysius Carabet and Gregory Wortabet were received to the
communion of the Church in Beirût, being the first spiritual fruits of
Women's Work for Women in modern Syria.

During 1828 and 1829 the Missionaries temporarily withdrew to Malta. In
1833, Dr. Thomson and Dr. Dodge arrived in Beirût. The Mission now
consisted of Messrs. Bird, Whiting, Eli Smith, Drs. Thomson and Dodge.
In a letter written at that time by Messrs. Bird, Smith and Thomson, it
is said, "Of the females, none can either read or write, or the
exceptions are so very few as not to deserve consideration. Female
education is not merely neglected, but discouraged and opposed." They
also stated, that "the whole number of native children in the Mission
Schools from the beginning had been 650; 500 before the interruption in
1828, and 150 since." "Female education as such is yet nearly untried."

During that year Mrs. Thomson and Mrs. Dodge commenced a school for
girls in Beirût. Dr. Eli Smith speaks of this school as follows, in the
Memoir of Mrs. S.L. Smith: "A few girls were previously found in some of
the public schools supported by the Mission, and a few had lived in the
Mission families. But these ladies wished to bring them more directly
under missionary influence, and to confer upon them the benefit of a
system of instruction adapted to females. A commencement was accordingly
made, by giving lessons to such little girls as could be irregularly
assembled for an hour or two a day at the Mission-house; such an
informal beginning being not only all that the ladies had time to
attempt, but being also considered desirable as less likely to excite
jealousy and opposition. For the project was entered upon with much
trembling and apprehension. Not merely indifference to female education
had to be encountered, but strong prejudice against it existing in the
public mind from time immemorial. The Oriental prejudice against
innovations from any quarter, and especially from foreigners, threatened
resistance. The seclusion of females within their own immediate circle
of relationship, originally Oriental, but strengthened by Mohammedan
influence, stood in the way. And more than all, religious jealousy,
looking upon the missionaries as dangerous heretics, and their influence
as contamination, seemed to give unequivocal warning that the attempt
might be fruitless. But the missionaries were not aware of the hold they
had gained upon the public confidence. The event proved in this, as in
many other missionary attempts, that strong faith is a better principle
to act upon in the propagation of the gospel, than cautious calculation.
Even down to the present time (1840) it is not known that a word of
opposition has been uttered against the school which was then commenced.

"On the arrival of Mrs. S.L. Smith in Beirût in January, 1834, she found
some six or eight girls assembled every afternoon in Mrs. Thomson's room
at the Mission house, receiving instruction in sewing and reading. One
was far enough advanced to aid in teaching, and the widow of Gregory
Wortabet occasionally assisted. On the removal of Mrs. Thomson and Mrs.
Dodge to Jerusalem, the entire charge of the school devolved upon Mrs.
Smith, aided by Mrs. Wortabet. Especial attention was given to reading,
sewing, knitting and good behavior. In November, 1835, Miss Rebecca
Williams arrived in Beirût as an assistant to Mrs. Smith. The school
then increased, and in the spring of 1836 an examination was held, at
which the mothers of the children and some other female friends were
present. The scholars together amounted to upwards of forty; the room
was well-filled, "presenting a scene that would have delighted the heart
of many a friend of missions. Classes were examined in reading,
spelling, geography, first lessons in arithmetic, Scripture questions,
the English language, and sacred music, and the whole was closed by a
brief address from Mrs. Dodge. The mothers then came forward of their
own accord, and in a gratifying manner expressed their thanks to the
ladies for what they had done for their daughters." Of the pupils of
this school, the greater part were Arabs of the Greek Church; two were
Jewesses; and some were Druzes; and at times there were eight or ten
Moslems.

A Sabbath School, with five teachers and thirty pupils, was established
at the same time, the majority of the scholars being girls. A native
female prayer-meeting was also commenced at this time, conducted by
three missionary ladies and two native Protestant women. At times, as
many as twenty were present, and this first female prayer-meeting in
Syria in modern times, was attended with manifest tokens of the Divine
blessing.

As has been already stated, the seclusion of Oriental females renders
it almost impossible for a male missionary to visit among them or hold
religious meetings exclusively for women. This must be done, if at all,
by the missionary's wife or by Christian women devoted especially to
this work. It was true in 1834, and it is almost equally true in 1873.
The Arabs have a proverb, "The tree is not cut down, but by a branch of
itself;" _i.e._ the axe handle is of wood. So none can reach the women
of Syria but women. The Church of Rome understands this, and is sending
French, Italian and Spanish nuns in multitudes to work upon the girls
and women of Syria, and the women of the Syria Mission, married and
unmarried, have done a noble work in the past in the elevation and
education of their Syrian sisters. And in this connection it should be
observed, that a _sine qua non_ of efficient usefulness among the women
of Syria, is that the Christian women who labor for them should know the
Arabic language. Ignorance of the language is regarded by the people as
indicating a want of sympathy with them, and is an almost insuperable
barrier to a true spiritual influence. The great work to be done for the
women of the world in the future, is to be done in their own
mother-tongue, and it would be well that all the Female Seminaries in
foreign lands should be so thoroughly supplied with teachers, that those
most familiar with the native language could be free to devote a portion
of their time to labors among the native women in their homes.

In 1834 and 1835 Mrs. Dodge conducted a school for Druze girls in
Aaleih, in Lebanon. This School in Aaleih, a village about 2300 feet
above the level of the sea, was once suddenly broken up. Not a girl
appeared at the morning session. A rumor had spread through the village,
that the English fleet had come up Mount Lebanon from Beirût, and was
approaching Aaleih to carry off all the girls to England! The panic
however subsided, and the girls returned to school. In 1836 Mrs. Hebard
and Mrs. Dodge carried on the work which Mrs. Smith had so much loved,
and which was only temporarily interrupted by her death.

In 1837, Mrs. Whiting and Miss Tilden had an interesting school of
Mohammedan girls in Jerusalem, and Mrs. Whiting had several native girls
in her own family.

In reply to certain inquiries contained in a note I addressed to Miss T.
she writes: "I arrived in Beirût, June 16, 1835. Mr. and Mrs. Whiting in
Jerusalem were desirous that I should take a small school that Mrs.
Whiting had gathered, of Mohammedan girls. She had in her family two
girls from Beirût, Salome, (Mrs. Prof. Wortabet,) and Hanne, (Mrs.
Reichardt.) There were in school from 12 to 20 or more scholars, all
Moslems. Only one Christian girl could be persuaded to attend. I think
that the inducement they had to send their daughters was the instruction
given in sewing and knitting, free of expense to them. Mrs. Whiting
taught the same scholars on the Sabbath. The Scripture used in their
instruction, both week days and on the Sabbath, was the Psalms. After a
year and a half I went to Beirût and assisted in the girl's school,
which was somewhat larger and more promising. Miss Williams had become
Mrs. Hebard, and Miss Badger from Malta was teaching at the time. Mrs.
Smith's boarding scholar Raheel, was with Mrs. Hebard. I suppose that
female education in the family was commenced in Syria by Mr. Bird, who
taught the girl that married Demetrius. (Miss T. probably meant to say
Dr. Thomson, as Mariya, daughter of Yakob Agha, was first placed in his
family by her father in 1834.) The girls taught in the different
missionaries' families were Raheel, Salome, Hanne, Khozma, Lulu, Kefa,
and Susan Haddad. Schools were taught in the mountains, and instruction
given to the women, and meetings held with them as the ladies had
strength and opportunity, at their different summer residences. The day
scholars were taught in Arabic, and the boarding scholars in Arabic and
English. I taught them Colburn's Arithmetic. I taught also written
arithmetic, reading, etc., in the boys' school."

In 1841, war broke out between the Druzes and Maronites, and the nine
schools of the Mission, including the Male Seminary of 31 pupils, the
Girls' School of 25 pupils, and the Druze High School in Deir el Kamr,
were broken up.

In 1842, the schools were resumed. In twelve schools were 279 pupils, of
whom 52 were girls, and twelve young girls were living as boarders in
mission families.

In 1843, there were thirteen schools with 438 pupils, and eleven young
girls in mission families.

During the year 1844, 186 persons were publicly recognized as
Protestants in Hasbeiya. Fifteen women attended a daily afternoon
prayer-meeting, and expressed great surprise and delight at the thought
that religion was a thing in which _women_ had a share! A fiery
persecution was commenced against the Protestants, who all fled to Abeih
in Lebanon. On their return they were attacked and stoned in the
streets, and Deacon Fuaz was severely wounded.

In 1845, Lebanon was again desolated with civil war, the schools were
suspended, and the instruction of 182 girls and 424 boys interrupted for
a time.




CHAPTER VI.

MRS. WHITING'S SCHOOL.


In 1846, Mrs. Whiting commenced a girls' day-school in her family at
Abeih, and in Beirût there were four schools for boys and girls
together, and one school for girls alone. In 18 Mission schools there
were 144 girls and 384 boys. This girls' school in Abeih in 1846 was
taught by Salome (Mrs. Wortabet) and Hanne, (Mrs. Reichardt,) the two
oldest girls in Mr. Whiting's family. It was impossible to begin the
school before August 1st, as the houses of the village which had been
burned in the war of the preceding year had not been rebuilt, and
suitable accommodations could not readily be found. During the summer
there were twelve pupils, and in the fall twenty-five, from the Druze,
Maronite, Greek Catholic and Greek sects, and the greatest freedom was
used in giving instruction in the Bible and the Assembly's and Watts'
Catechisms. A portion of every day was spent in giving especial
religious instruction, and on the Sabbath a part of the pupils were
gathered into the Sabbath School. During the fall a room was erected on
the Mission premises for the girls' school, at an expense of 100
dollars.

The following letter from Mrs. Whiting needs no introduction. It bears a
melancholy interest from the fact that the beloved writer died shortly
afterwards, at Newark, N.J., May 18th, 1873.

"My first introduction to the women of Syria was by Mrs. Bird, mother of
Rev. Wm. Bird and Mrs. Van Lennep. She was then in the midst of her
little family of four children. I daily found her in her nursery,
surrounded by native women who came to her in great numbers, often with
their sick children. They were always received with the greatest
kindness and ministered to. She might be seen giving a warm bath to a
sick child, or waiting and watching the effect of other remedies.
Mothers from the neighboring villages of Lebanon were allowed to bring
their sick children and remain for days in her house until relief was
obtained. She was soon known throughout Beirût and these villages as the
friend of the suffering, and I have ever thought that by these Christian
self-denying labors, she did much towards gaining the confidence of the
people. And who shall say that while good Father Bird was in his study
library among the 'Popes and Fathers,' preparing his controversial work
'The Thirteen Letters,' this dear sister, by her efforts, was not making
a way to the hearts of these people for the reception of gospel truth,
which has since been preached so successfully in the neighboring
villages of Lebanon?

"In the autumn of 1834, Mr. Whiting was removed to the Jerusalem
station. I found the women accessible and ready to visit me, and invite
me to their houses, but unwilling to place their girls under my
instruction. All my efforts for some time were fruitless. Under date of
Aug. 22, I find this entry in Mr. Whiting's journal: "During the past
week, three little Moslem girls have been placed under Mrs. Whiting's
instruction for the purpose of learning to read and sew. They seem much
pleased with their new employment, and their parents, who are
respectable Moslems, express great satisfaction in the prospect of their
learning. They say, in the Oriental style that the children are no
longer theirs, but ours, and that they shall remain with us and learn
everything we think proper to teach them. This event excited much talk
in the city, particularly among the Moslem mothers. The number of
scholars, chiefly Moslem girls, increased to twenty-five and thirty."

At a later date, Jan., 1836, "one of the girls in Mrs. Whiting's school,
came with a complaint against a Jew who had been attempting to frighten
her away from the school by telling her and her uncle (her guardian)
that her teacher certainly had some evil design, and no doubt intended
to select the finest of the girls, and send them away to the Pasha, and
that it was even written so in the books which she was teaching the
children to read. Whether the Jew has been set up by others to tell the
people this absurd nonsense, I cannot say, but certainly it is a new
thing for Jews to make any opposition, or to show any hostility to us.
And this looks very much like the evil influence which has been
attempted in another quarter."

"March 7. Yesterday Mrs. W. commenced a Sunday school for the pupils of
her day school. They were much delighted. They began to learn the
Sermon on the Mount."

"Sept. 7. Had a visit from two Sheikhs of the Mosque of David. One of
them inquired particularly respecting Mrs. Whiting's school for Moslem
girls, and wished to know what she taught them to read. I showed him the
little spelling-book which we use, with which he was much pleased and
begged me to lend it to him. I gave him one, with a copy of the Psalms,
which he wished to compare with the Psalms of David as the Moslems have
them. He invited me strongly to come and visit him, and to bring Mrs.
Whiting to see his family."

The school continued with little interruption until October 3d, when
Miss Tilden arrived and had the charge of the school for nearly two
years. I left in feeble health, with Mr. Whiting, for the United States,
where we spent more than one year. Miss Tilden during our absence was
engaged in teaching in the boys' school in Beirût. On my return the
Moslem school was not resumed, and soon after Mr. Whiting was again
transferred to the Abeih station.

My work in the family school began in October, 1835, when Salome Carabet
and Hanne Wortabet were placed by their parents in our family school. We
afterwards added to the number Melita Carabet, and the two orphan girls
Sada and Rufka Gregory. These two were brought to us in a very
providential way. They were the children of Yakob Gregory, a respectable
Armenian well known in Beirût.

He had two children, and when these were quite young, he left his wife,
and nothing was heard of him afterwards. The mother died soon after and
left the children in the care of the American Mission and the Armenian
Bishop. The old grandmother, who was in Aleppo, on hearing of her death,
soon returned to Beirût to look after the children. She was allowed to
visit them in the Bishop's family, where they were cared for, and one
day, in a stealthy way, she took Sada into the city, placed her in the
hands of a Jew, on board of a native boat bound for Jaffa. I suppose
Sada was then about six years old. They set sail. The child cried
bitterly on finding her grandmother was not on board as she had
promised. There was on board the boat an Armenian, well acquainted with
her father, who inquired of her the cause. On hearing her story he
remonstrated, with the Jew, who said she had been placed in his hands by
her grandmother to be sent to Jerusalem. On their arriving at Jaffa, the
affair was made known to Mr. Murad, the American Consul. He sent for the
Jew, took the child from his hands, and dismissed him, and wrote to Mr.
Whiting in Jerusalem an account of the affair, and was directed by him
to send the child to us. Not long after, her grandmother came to
Jerusalem bringing Rufka. She tried to interest the Armenian Convent in
her behalf. Here I find an extract from Mr. Whiting's journal, which
will give you all of interest on this point. "After being out much of
the morning, I returned and found the grandmother of little Sada, who
had brought her little sister Rufka to leave her with us. She had a
quarrel with the convent, and fled for refuge to us. We cannot but be
thankful that both these little orphans are at length quietly placed
under our care and instruction."

The parents of three of the girls in our family, being Protestants,
always gave their sanction to our mode of instructing and training them.
Bishop Carabet likewise aided us in every way in his power, and ever
seemed most grateful for what I was doing for his daughters. In his last
sickness, when enfeebled by age, I often visited him. Once on going into
his room, he was seated as usual on his Turkish rug. One of the family
rose to offer me a chair, I said, "let me sit near you on your rug, that
I may talk to you." With much emotion he replied, "_Inshullah tukodee
jenb il Messiah fe melakoot is sema!_" "God grant that you may sit by
the side of Christ in the kingdom of Heaven!"

We were from time to time encouraged by tokens of a work of God's Spirit
in their hearts. Melita Carabet was the first to indulge a hope in
Christ, and united with the Church in Abeih. Salome united in Beirût;
Hanne in Hasbeiya, where her brother, Rev. John Wortabet, was pastor.
Sada was received by Mr. Calhoun at Abeih, soon after Mr. Whiting's
death, and Rufka in later years united with the United Presbyterian
Church in Alexandria, Egypt. I have ever thought these girls were under
great obligations to the American Churches and the American Mission, who
for so many years supported and instructed them, and I have ever tried
to impress upon them a sense of their obligation to impart to others of
their countrywomen what they had received. I believe as early as 1836,
they began assisting me in the Moslem school for girls in Jerusalem, in
which they continued to assist Miss Tilden until the school was given
up.

Soon after our removal to Abeih, October, 1844, we established a
day-school for girls in the village on the Mission premises, of which
Salome and Hanne had the entire charge under my superintendence. When
the Station at Mosul was established, Salome was appointed by the
Mission to assist Mrs. Williams in her work among the women, in which
work she continued until her marriage with Rev. John Wortabet. Melita
was afterwards appointed by the Mission to the Aleppo Station to assist
Mrs. Eddy and Mrs. Ford in the work, and so they were employed at
various stations in the work of teaching, until I left the Mission. I
have kept up a continual correspondence with them, and have learned from
others to my joy, that they were doing the work for which I had trained
them."

The above deeply interesting letter from Mrs. Whiting is enough in
itself to show what an amount of patient Christian labor was expended
through a course of many years, in the education of the five young
Syrian maidens who were entrusted in the providence of God to her care.
I have been personally acquainted with four of them for seventeen years,
and can testify, as can many others, of the good use they have made of
their high opportunities. The amount of good they have accomplished as
teachers, in Abeih, Jerusalem, Deir el Komr, Hasbeiya, Tripoli, Aleppo,
Mosul, Alexandria, Cairo, Melbourne, (Australia,) and in the Mission
Female Seminary and the Prussian Deaconesses' Institute in Beirût, will
never be known until all things are revealed. I have received letters
from several of them, which I will give in their own language, as they
are written in English. The first is from Salome, now the wife of the
Rev. Prof. John Wortabet, M.D., of the Syrian Protestant College in
Beirût.

"I do not consider my history worth recording, and it is only out of
consideration of what is due to Mrs. Whiting for the labor she bestowed
upon us, that I am induced to take up my pen to comply with your
request. I was taken by Mrs. Whiting when only six years old, together
with Hannie Wortabet, who was five years old, to be brought up in her
family, she having no children of her own. Owing partly to the nature of
the religious instruction we received, and partly to my own timid
sensitive nature, I was, from time to time for many years, under deep
spiritual terrors, without any saving result. When I was about sixteen,
a revival of religion took place, under whose influence I was also
brought. Mr. Calhoun was my spiritual adviser, and although my mind
groped in darkness, and bordered on despair for many weeks, I hope I was
then led to put my trust in Jesus, and if ever I am saved, my only hope
now is, and ever shall be, in the merits of Jesus' blood and His
promises."

The next letter is from Melita Carabet, daughter of the Armenian Bishop
Dionysius Carabet, who became a Protestant in 1823. She writes as
follows:

"Nothing could give me more pleasure than to comply with your request,
and thereby recall some of the happy days and incidents of my childhood
and youth, spent under the roof of my godly teachers, Mr. and Mrs.
Whiting. I ought to remember them as far back as at the baptismal font,
for I heard afterwards that they were both present on the occasion,
which took place in Malta, where I was born. But as my memory does not
carry me back so far, I must date my recollections from the time I was
five years of age, when I came to live in their family. I can distinctly
recollect the first texts of Scripture and verses of hymns that dear
Mrs. Whiting taught my young lips to repeat, and my little prayer which
I used to say at her knees on going to bed, I still repeat to this day,
"Now I lay me," etc. One incident which happened about a year later, was
so deeply impressed on my memory, and had such an effect upon me at the
time, that I must mention it. It was this. Mrs. Whiting had given us
girls (we were five in number, my sister Salome, and Hannie, Dr.
Wortabet's sister, and Sada and Rufka Gregory) some raisins to pick over
preparatory to making cake. I stole an opportunity after a while, to
slip about a dozen of these raisins into my pocket. No one saw me do it
but from the moment I had done it, I began to feel very unhappy, and
repented the deed. My companions went out to play, but I could not join
in their sports. My heart was too heavy. I sat mourning over my sin, and
could eat no supper, and had no rest until I had made a full confession
to Mrs. Whiting at bed-time. She prayed and wept over me, and somehow I
was comforted and went to my little bed much happier.

"I remember nothing more until a much later period, when I was about the
age of twelve. About this time, there was a great awakening among the
young girls in some of the Mission families. Mr. Calhoun's prayers and
advice were very much solicited and sought, in guiding and praying with
the young inquirers. One Sunday as I was reading the little tract "The
Blacksmith's wife," (which I have kept to this day,) I felt a great
weight and sense of sin. I trace my conversion to the reading of this
tract. It was not long before I found peace. I have often since longed
for those days and hours of sweet communion with my Saviour. I joined
the Church a very short time after this, and at this early age was given
charge of a Bible class in Abeih.

"Now I must pass over a few more years, when I went to Hasbeiya, to
spend a little time with my sister Salome, now wife of Dr. John
Wortabet, who was appointed pastor of the little Protestant Church
there. I spent one year of my life here, during which time I took charge
of a little day school for girls in my sister's house. Dr. Wortabet's
sister Hannie had opened this school some years before I came. I do not
remember the number of pupils, but there were five little Moslem
princesses, grandchildren of the great Emir "Saad-ed-Deen," who was
called some years later to Constantinople to be punished for having
spoken disrespectfully of Queen Victoria. These little princesses were
regular attendants at the school, and learned to read in the New
Testament, and studied Watts' Catechism with the rest of the Christian
children. I had also charge of a Bible class for women, who used to meet
once a week in the Protestant Church. This was before the massacre of
1860. The rest of my life has been spent in teaching in Beirût. Since
the massacres, I have been teaching the orphans in the Prussian School,
where I at present reside. Indeed it has been my home ever since I
undertook this work which I love dearly, and which I hope to continue so
long as the Lord sees fit, and gives me strength to work for Him."

I am permitted to make the following extract from a letter written by
Melita to Mrs. Whiting, in February, 1868. I give the exact language, as
the letter is written in English:

                                         Prussian Institution, Beirût,
                                                  _February 23, 1868_.

     My Dear Mrs. Whiting--

     It is so cold this morning that I can with difficulty hold my pen.
     It has been a very cold and stormy month, and there seems no
     prospect of fair weather yet. The snow on the mountains is as low
     as the lowest hills, and I pity the poor creatures who must be
     suffering in consequence. J. enjoys the weather very much; indeed
     he seems so exhilarated and invigorated by it that one could almost
     wish it to last on his account, but I must say that I wish it was
     over, and the warm sunbeams shedding their genial rays again upon
     the cold frozen earth.

     Trouble and grief are such a common complaint at present that you
     will not be surprised to hear me relate my share of them. I have
     indeed had my full share, and you would say so too had you seen how
     I was occupied during my holidays last summer, in taking care of my
     ill and suffering brother. And aside from my fatigue, for I was
     always on my feet until two or three hours after midnight, quite
     alone with him--merely to witness such indescribable suffering as
     he went through, was more than is generally allotted to human
     beings on earth. He had been unwell for some time previous, and had
     been advised by the Doctor to go up to the mountains, so Mr.
     Calhoun kindly offered him a place in the Seminary, where he could
     stop until his health was recruited, and in the meantime give a
     couple of English lessons during the day to the boys in the
     Seminary. He lodged with the Theological students in a little room
     above the school, but he had not been up there more than a week,
     when his whole body became suddenly covered with a burning eruption
     that was always spreading and increasing in size. He could neither
     lie nor sit in any possible position, and was racked with pains
     that seemed at times well nigh driving him mad. I trembled for his
     reason, and was so awed and terrified by the sight, that I was in
     danger of losing mine as well. No one would come near him, and Mrs.
     Calhoun had kindly asked me to come and spend the holidays with
     them, so it fell to my lot to nurse and take care of him. I used to
     go to him in the morning as soon as I got up, and sit (or stand) up
     with him until two or three o'clock at night, dressing his sores;
     running down only occasionally for my meals, and with my little
     lantern coming down in the dead of night, all alone, to lay my
     weary head and aching heart and limbs on my bed for a little rest.
     But not to sleep, for whenever I closed my eyes, I had that eternal
     picture and scene of suffering before me. I could find no one who
     was willing for love or for money to help me or relieve me for one
     night or day. The disease was so offensive as well as frightful,
     that no one could stop in the room. One of the Prussian "Sisters"
     who went up with me, kindly assisted me sometimes until she came
     down. In this state did J. find me on his return from England. His
     family was up in Aaleih, and he used to ride over occasionally to
     see P. and prescribe some new medicine for him, but his skill was
     baffled with this terrifying disease, and poor P. remained in this
     agonizing state of suffering for five whole months without leaving
     his bed. He was carried down on a litter to Beirût, where he has
     been since. He took a little room by himself, and gives lessons in
     English until something more prosperous turns up for him. Twenty
     years' experience seemed to be added to my life in those three
     months of anxiety I went through last summer; and what a picture of
     suffering and grief was I, after this, myself. No wonder if I feel
     entirely used up this winter, and feel it a great effort to live.

     There is not the slightest prospect of my ever getting back my lost
     property from that man--as he has long since left the country, and
     is said to be a great scoundrel and a very dishonorable man. If he
     were not, he would never have risked the earnings of a poor orphan
     girl by asking for it on the eve of his bankruptcy. Had I my
     property I might perhaps have given up teaching for a while, and
     gone away for a little change and rest, but God has willed it
     otherwise, no doubt for some wise purpose, and to some wise end,
     although so difficult and incomprehensible at present. It is all
     doubtless for the trial of my faith and trust in Him. Let me then
     trust in Him! Yea, though He slay me, let me yet trust in Him! Has
     He ever yet failed me? Has He not proved Himself in all ages to be
     the Father and the God of the orphan and the widow? He must see
     that I need these troubles and sorrows, or He would not send them,
     for my Father's hand would never cause his child a needless tear. A
     bruised reed He will not break, but will temper the storm to the
     shorn lamb; I will then no longer be dejected and cast down, but
     look upward and trust in my Heavenly Father, feeling sure that He
     will make all right in the end.

     My letter is so sad and melancholy that I cannot let it go without
     something more cheerful, so I will add a line to brighten and cheer
     it up a little. For life, with all the bitterness it contains, has
     also much that is agreeable and affords much enjoyment; for there
     is a wonderful elasticity in the human mind which enables it, when
     sanctified by divine grace, to bear up under present ills. So with
     all my griefs and ills, I have been able to enjoy myself too
     sometimes this winter. I have lately attended two Concerts, one
     here, given by the Prussian Sisters, for the benefit of the new
     Orphanage, "Talitha Kumi," at Jerusalem, lately erected by the
     Prussian Sisters there--and one given by the "Sisters of Charity,"
     for the benefit of the orphans and poor of this town. Daood Pasha
     most generously gave up the large hall in his mansion for the
     occasion, as well as honoring it by his attendance. The Concert in
     our Institution was entirely musical, vocal and instrumental. All
     the Missionaries came. We had nearly three hundred tickets sold at
     five francs apiece, so that there was a nice little sum added to
     the Orphan's Fund at Jerusalem.

                    Ever your affectionate

                                                  Melita.

Saada Gregory was engaged in teaching at different times in Tripoli,
Aleppo, Hasbeiya and Egypt. Her school in Tripoli was eminently
successful, and her labors in Alexandria were characterized by great
energy and perseverance. She kept up a large school even when suffering
from great bodily pain. She is now in the United States in enfeebled
health.

                                  American Mission House, Alexandria,
                                                  _November 8, 1867_.

     My Dear Mrs. Whiting,

     I know you will be expecting a letter from me soon, partly in
     answer to yours sent by Mrs. Van Dyck, and especially because it is
     the day on which you expect all your children to remember you. I
     never do forget this day, but this time there are special reasons
     for my remembering it. Whenever the day has come around, I have
     felt more forcibly than at others, how utterly alone I have been,
     for since dear Mr. Whiting was taken away from us, it has seemed as
     though we were made doubly orphans, but this time it has not been
     so. I think I have been made to realize that I have a loving Father
     in heaven who loves and watches over and cares for me more than
     ever you or Mr. Whiting did. I do really feel now that God has
     given me friends, so this day has not been so sad a one to me as it
     usually is. Another source of thankfulness to-day is, that I have
     been raised up from a bed of pain and suffering from which neither
     I nor any of my friends thought I ever would rise. Weary days and
     nights of pain, when it was torture to move and almost impossible
     to lie still, and when it seemed at times that death would be only
     a relief, and yet here I am still living to praise Him for many,
     many mercies. Mr. Pinkerton waited on me day and night, often
     depriving himself of sleep and rest in order to do it, and when
     convalescence set in, and with the restlessness of a sick person, I
     used to fancy I would be more comfortable up stairs, he used to
     carry me up and down and gratify all my whims. For five weeks I was
     in bed, and many more confined to my room and the house. But the
     greatest reason for thankfulness is, that God has in His great
     mercy brought me to a knowledge of Himself, and of my own lost
     state as a guilty sinner. It was while lying those long weary days
     on the bed that I was made to see that for ten long years I had
     been deceiving myself. Instead of being a Christian and being
     prepared to die, I was still in the gall of bitterness and the
     bonds of iniquity, and if God had taken me away during that
     sickness, it would have been with a lie in my right hand. Now when
     I look back on those long years spent in sin and in self-deception,
     I wonder at God's loving kindness and patience in sparing me still
     to show forth in me His goodness and forbearance. Truly it is of
     His mercies that I was not consumed. How often I taught others and
     talked to them of the love of Christ, and yet I had not that love
     myself. How many times I sat down to His table with his children,
     and yet I had no portion nor lot in the matter. Sometimes when I
     think how near destruction I was, with literally but a step between
     me and death, eternal death, and yet God raised me up and brought
     me to Christ and made me love Him, and how ever since He has been
     watching over me giving me the measure of comfort and peace that I
     enjoy and giving me the desire to know and love Him more, I wonder
     at my own coldness, at the frequency with which I forget Him. How
     strong sin still is over me, how prone I am to wander away from
     Christ and to forget His love, to allow sin to come between me and
     Him, and yet He still follows me with His love, still He brings me
     back to Him, the good Shepherd. Oh! if I could live nearer Christ,
     if I could realize and rejoice in His love. Now when I think how
     near I may be to the eternal world, that at any moment a severe
     attack of pain may come on which will carry me off, it is good to
     know that my Saviour will be with me; that He is mine and I am His.
     It is not easy to look death calmly in the face and know that my
     days are numbered, yet can I not participate in the promise that He
     Himself will come and take me to be with Him where He is. I would
     like to be allowed to live longer and be permitted to bring souls
     to Christ, but I feel assured that He will do what is best, and
     that He will not call me away as long as He has any work for me to
     do here I have a feeling that this will be my last letter to you,
     and I now take the opportunity of thanking you for all you have
     done for me, for all the care you bestowed on me, the prayers you
     have offered for me, and the kind thoughtfulness you still manifest
     for my welfare. It would be a comfort to me if I could see and talk
     with you once more, but I fear that will never be in this world,
     but shall we not meet in our Saviour's presence, purified,
     justified and sanctified through His blood? With truest love and
     gratitude

                    I remain yours,

                                                  Saada.




CHAPTER VII.

DR. DE FOREST'S WORK IN BEIRUT.


In 1847, Dr. and Mrs. De Forest commenced their work of female
education, receiving two young women into their family. In 13 Mission
schools there were 163 girls and 462 boys. During the year 1847, six
schools were in operation in connection with the Beirût Station. One in
the Mesaitebe with 32 pupils, of whom 10 were girls. This school was
promising and 15 of the pupils could read in the Bible. Another was in
the Ashrafiyeh, with 50 pupils, of whom 12 were girls. Nineteen in this
school could read in the Bible. Another was on the Mission premises with
seventy pupils. Another school, south of the Mission premises, had 60
pupils, of whom 15 were girls. In addition to these was the Female
School with thirty girls, taught by Raheel.

In 1848, on the organization of the first Evangelical Church, nineteen
members were received, of whom four were women. Dr. De Forest had seven
native girls in his family, and there were fifty-five girls in other
schools.

In 1849, Mrs. Thomson and Mrs. De Forest visited Hasbeiya to labor among
the women, by whom they were received with great cordiality. The girls'
school of that time was regularly maintained and well attended. Dr. De
Forest had thirteen native girls boarders in his family in Beirût, and
Mr. Whiting had five.

In the Annual Report of the Beirût Station for 1850, it is stated that
"a more prayerful spirit prevails among the brethren and sisters. One
pleasing evidence of this is the recent establishment of a weekly female
prayer-meeting, which is attended by all the female members of the
Church. Yet it is somewhat remarkable that in our little Church there is
so small a proportion of females. Unhappily, only one of our native
brethren is blessed with a pious wife. Some of them are surrounded with
relatives and friends whose influence is such as to hinder rather than
help them in their Christian course, and in the religious training of
their children."

This difficulty still exists in all parts of the Protestant community,
not only in Syria, but throughout the Turkish Empire, and probably
throughout the missionary world. The young men of the Protestant
Churches at the present time endeavor to avoid this source of trial and
embarrassment by marrying only within the Protestant community, and the
rapid growth of female education in these days gives promise that the
time is near when the mothers in Syria will be in no respect behind the
fathers in either virtue or intelligence. The Beirût Church now numbers
107 members, of whom 57 are men and 50 are women.

In 1851, Miss Anna L. Whittlesey arrived in Beirût as an assistant to
Dr. and Mrs. De Forest, and died in a year less one day after her
arrival, beloved and lamented by all. In July of that year five of the
women in Hasbeiya united with the Church.

In 1852 and 1853 the Female Seminary in Beirût reached a high degree of
prosperity, and the girls' schools in different parts of the land were
well attended. Miss Cheney arrived from America to supply Miss
Whittlesey's place.

In 1854, Dr. De Forest was obliged from failing health, to relinquish
his work and return to the United States. A nobler man never lived. As a
physician he was widely known and universally beloved, and as a teacher
and preacher he exerted a lasting influence. The good wrought by that
saintly man in Syria will never be fully known in this world. The lovely
Christian families in Syria, whose mothers were trained by him and his
wife, will be his monuments for generations to come. It is a common
remark in Syria, that the great majority of all Dr. De Forest's pupils
have turned out well.

I have not been able to find the official reports with regard to the
Female Seminary of Dr. De Forest in Beirût for the years 1847, 1848, and
1849, but from the Reports made by Dr. De Forest himself for the years
1850, 1852 and 1853, I make the following extracts:

In 1850, the Doctor writes: "The Seminary now has seventeen pupils
including two, Khozma and Lulu, who act as teachers. The older class
have continued to study the Sacred Scriptures as a daily lesson, and
have nearly finished the Old Testament. They have studied a brief
Compend of History in Arabic, and have continued Arithmetic and English.
Compositions have been required of them weekly in Arabic until last
autumn, when they began to write alternately in English and Arabic. A
brief course of Astronomy was commenced, illustrated by Mattison's maps,
given by Fisher Howe, Esq., of Brooklyn, N.Y.

"Recently the pupils have been invited to spend every second Sabbath
evening with the other members of the family in conversation respecting
some missionary field which has been designated previously. The large
missionary map is hung in the sitting-room, and all are asked in turn to
give some fact respecting the field in question. Even the youngest, who
have not yet learned to read with facility in their own language,
furnish their mite of information.

"The instruction in this school has been given by Dr. and Mrs. De
Forest, aided by Mrs. De Forest's parents and the two elder pupils who
have rendered such efficient aid heretofore. The pupils of all the
classes have made good progress in their various studies, and their
deportment has been satisfactory. They are gaining mental discipline and
intellectual furniture, and have acquired much evangelical knowledge.
Deep seriousness has been observed on the part of some of the elder
pupils at different times, and they give marked and earnest attention to
the preached word.

"In our labors for the reconstruction of society here, we feel more and
more the absolute need of a sanctified and enlightened female influence;
such an influence as is felt so extensively in America, and whose
beneficent action is seen in the proper training of children, and in the
expulsion of a thousand superstitions from the land. Christian schools
seem the most evident means of securing such an end. Commerce and
intercourse with foreigners, and many other causes are co-operating with
missionary effort to enlighten the _men_ of Beirût and its vicinity, but
the women, far more isolated than in America, are scarcely affected by
any of these causes, and they hinder materially the moral elevation of
the other sex. Often the man who seems full of intelligence and
enterprise and mental enlargement when abroad, is found when at home to
be a mere superstitious child; the prophecy that his mother taught him
being still the religion of his home, and the heathenish maxims and
narrow prejudices into which he was early indoctrinated still ruling the
house. The inquirer after truth is seduced back to error by the many
snares of unsanctified and ignorant companionship, and the convert who
did run well is hindered by the benighted stubbornness to which he is
unequally yoked.

"While exerting this deleterious influence over their husbands and
children, the females of the land have but little opportunity for
personal improvement, and are not very promising subjects of missionary
labor. His faith must be strong who can labor with hope for the
conversion of women, with whom the customs of society prohibit freedom
of intercourse, and who have not learning enough to read a book, or
vocabulary enough to understand a sermon, or mental discipline enough to
follow continuous discourse."

In the Report for 1852, Dr. De Forest writes: "At the date of our last
Annual Report, Miss Whittlesey was in good health, was rapidly acquiring
the Arabic, and was zealously pressing on in her chosen work, with
well-trained intellect, steady purpose and lively hope. But God soon
called her away, and she departed in "hope of eternal life which God
that cannot lie promised before the world began." The Female Boarding
School has suffered much from the loss of its Principal, but the same
course of study has been pursued as before, though necessarily with less
efficiency. One of the assistant pupils, (Lulu,) who has been relied
upon for much of the teaching, and superintendence of the scholars, was
married last autumn to the senior tutor of the Abeih Seminary. The
number of pupils now in the school is fifteen. The communication of
Biblical and religious knowledge has been a main object of this school.
All the pupils, as a daily lesson, study the Assembly's Shorter
Catechism, first in Arabic with proof-texts, and afterwards in English
with Baker's Explanatory Questions and Scripture proofs, and they are
taught a brief Historical Catechism of the Old and New Testaments. The
first of proper school hours every day is occupied with the Scriptures
by all the school. The Epistles to the Hebrews and the Romans formed
the subject of these lessons until the autumn, when Mr. Calhoun's
revised edition of the "Companion to the Bible" was adopted as a
text-book, and the Old Testament has been studied in connection with
that work. The pupils all attend the service at the Mission Chapel, and
have lessons appropriate to the Sabbath in the intervals of worship.

"The evening family worship is in Arabic, and is a familiar Bible Class.
All the pupils are present, and not unfrequently some of their relatives
and other strangers. In addition to this religious instruction, the
several classes have studied the Arabic and English languages, some of
them writing in both, geography and history, arithmetic mental and
higher, astronomy, and some of the simple works on natural philosophy
and physiology. Compositions have been required in Arabic and English.
The lessons in drawing, commenced by Miss Whittlesey, have been
continued under the instruction of Mrs. Smith, and plain and fancy
needle-work have been taught as heretofore.

"To those who have watched the growth of intellect, and in some
instances, we hope, the growth of grace in these few pupils, and in the
other female boarding scholars in some of the mission families, who have
seen the pleasing contrast afforded by Syrian females when adorned after
the Apostolic recommendation by good works and a "meek and quiet
spirit," with those who cover empty heads with pearls and enrobe untidy
persons in costly array,--who have rejoiced to see one and another
family altar set up, where both heads of the family and the hearts of
both unite in acknowledging God,--this branch of our labors need offer
no further arguments to justify its efficient prosecution.

"The library of the Seminary consists of 220 school books, and 148
volumes of miscellaneous books, chiefly for the young. The school has 6
large fine maps, and 5 of Mr. Bidwell's Missionary maps, and 16 of
Mattison's astronomical maps. These maps were the gifts of Mrs. Dr.
Burgess and of Fisher Howe, Esq. The school has a pair of globes, one
Season's machine, one orrery, a pair of gasometers, a spirit-lamp and
retort stand, a centre of gravity apparatus, a capillary attraction
apparatus, a galvanic trough, a circular battery, an electromagnet, a
horse shoe magnet, a revolving magnet, a wire coil and hemispheric
helices, and an electric shocking machine."

The report of the Female Seminary for 1853 is written in the handwriting
of Mrs. De Forest, owing to the increasing infirmity of Dr. De Forest's
health, and this report has a sad interest from its being the last one
ever dictated by Dr. De Forest.

"A small day-school for girls has been taught by one of the pupils in
Mrs. Whiting's family during the winter, and it is contemplated to
continue the school hereafter in the Girl's School house on the Mission
premises, under the instruction of a graduate of the Female Seminary.
The demand for such instruction for girls is steadily increasing.

"The teaching force of the Seminary was increased last spring by the
arrival of Miss Cheney, who entered at once upon the duties of her
position, devoting a portion of her time to the acquisition of Arabic,
and a part to the instruction of some classes in English. Still, on
account of the repeated illnesses of Dr. De Forest, it was not deemed
advisable to receive a new class last autumn. The only girls admitted
during the year were one of Mrs. Whiting's pupils who was transferred to
the Seminary for one year, one of the class who graduated two years
since, and who desired to return for another year, and Sara, the
daughter of Mr. Butrus Bistany. These three were received into existing
classes, while it was not deemed advisable under the circumstances to
make up another class composed of new pupils.

"The course of instruction, Biblical and other, has been much the same
as that hitherto pursued. Miss Cheney commenced "Watts on the Mind,"
with some of the older pupils, in English. All the pupils have had
familiar lessons on Church History in Arabic, and some of them have
begun an abridged work on Moral Philosophy. Much effort has been
bestowed upon the cultivation of a taste for the reading of profitable
books, and a number of the girls have read the whole of "D'Aubigné's
History of the Reformation," and other history with Mrs. De Forest in
the evening class, the atlas being always open before them. Mrs. Smith
has given some instruction in the rudiments of drawing to a part of the
pupils, and Mrs. Bird and Mrs. Calhoun have given lessons in vocal
music, for which some of the pupils have considerable taste.

"After completing the 'Companion to the Bible' in Arabic, the whole
school were engaged daily in a Harmony of the Gospels, and other
Biblical and religious instruction has been continued as heretofore. We
have ever kept in mind the necessity of not denationalizing these Arab
children, and we believe that this desired result has been attained. The
long vacation of six weeks in the spring, and the same in the autumn,
the commencement of all instruction in Arabic, and the preponderance of
Arabic study in the school, have contributed to this result. The older
pupils have attained to a considerable knowledge of English, giving them
access to books suitable for girls to read, and yet Arabic is the
language of the school, and the pupils are Syrians still in dress and
manners. The advantages of the school are more and more appreciated in
the city, and the adjacent mountains. Many were exceedingly earnest in
offering their daughters last autumn, both Protestant and other, and
some when repulsed at the Seminary, besought the mission families to
receive their children."

During the next year, the school was placed in the family of Mr. and
Mrs. Wilson, under the charge of Miss Cheney. A class of eight
graduated, and the pupils contributed to benevolent objects of the
fruits of their industry, over 1200 piastres, or about fifty dollars.

In a report on Education, prepared by the Syria Mission in 1855, it was
stated, that "without entering into details in regard to the course of
study pursued, we are happy to say that the results of Dr. De Forest's
Seminary were very gratifying, and proved, if proof were needed, that
there is the same capacity in the native female mind of the country that
there is in the male, and that under proper instruction, and by the
blessing of God, there will be brought forward a class of intelligent,
pious and efficient female helpers in the great work of evangelizing
this community."

The hope implied in the above sentence with regard to the raising up of
"a class of intelligent, pious and efficient female helpers," has been
abundantly realized. The list of Dr. De Forest's pupils is to a great
extent the list of the leading female teachers and helpers in all the
various departments of evangelic work in Syria.

Not having access to the records of the Seminary as they have been lost,
I have obtained from several of the former pupils a list of the members
of the various classes from 1848 to 1852. The whole number of pupils
during that period was twenty-three. Of these two died in faith, giving
good evidence of piety. Of the twenty-one who survive, twelve are
members of the Evangelical Church, and nine are now or were recently
engaged in _teaching_, although nearly twenty years have elapsed since
they graduated. Twenty-one are at the head of families, esteemed and
honored in the communities where they reside. The names of the whole
class are as follows:

    Ferha Jimmal, now Kowwar of Nazareth.
    Sara Haddad, now Myers of Beirût.
    Sada Sabunjy, now Barakat of Beirût.
    Sada Haleby, of Beirût.
    Miriam Tabet, now Tabet of Beirût.
    Khushfeh Mejdelany, now Musully of Beirût.
    Khurma Mejdelany, now Ashy of Hasbeiya.
    Mirta Tabet, now Suleeby of B'hamdûn.
    Feifun Malûf, of Aramoon.
    Katrin Roza, of Kefr Shima.
    Mirta Suleeby, now Trabulsy of Beirût.
    Sara Suleeby, of Beirût.
    Esteer Nasif, now Aieed of Suk el Ghurb.
    Hada Suleeby, now Shidoody of Beirût.
    Helloon Zazûah, now Zuraiuk of Beirût.
    Khushfeh Towîleh, now Mutr of Beirût.
    Fetneh Suleeby, now Shibly of Suk el Ghurb.
    Akabir Barakat, now Ghubrîn of Beirût.
    Hamdeh Barakat, now Bû Rehan of Hasbeiya.
    Eliza Hashem, now Khûri of Beirût.
    Rufka Haddad, (deceased).
    Sara Bistany, (deceased).
    Durra Schemail, of Kefr Shima.

Two of the most successful of those engaged in teaching, are now
connected with the British Syrian Schools. They are Sada Barakat and
Sada el Haleby. The former has written me a letter in English in regard
to her own history and religious experience, which I take the liberty
to transcribe here verbatim in her own language. She was one of the
_least_ religious of all the pupils in the school, when she was first
received but the work of conviction and conversion was a thorough one,
and she has been enabled by the grace of God to offer constant and most
efficient testimony to the reality of Christian experience, in the
responsible position she has been called upon to fill in the late Mrs.
Thompson's institution.

                                            Suk el Ghurb, Mt. Lebanon,
                                                  _September 3, 1872_.

     Dear Sir--I am thankful to say, in reply to your inquiry,
     that I was not persecuted when I became a Protestant, like my other
     native sisters were when they became Protestants, because I was
     very young. I was about four years old when my father died, and a
     year after, my mother married a Protestant man. I came to live with
     my mother in her new home, with my two brothers. It was very hard
     to lose a dear loving father who loved his children so much as my
     mother tells me he did. But the Lord does everything right, because
     if the Lord had not taken my father away from us I should not have
     known the true religion. I lived in my step-father's house till I
     was twelve years old. I was then placed in Dr. De Forest's school,
     in the year 1848. I stayed there four years. I was not clever at my
     studies, and especially the English language was very difficult for
     me. Even until now I remember a lesson in English which was so hard
     for me that I was punished twice for it, and I could not learn it.
     Now it will make me laugh to think of these few words, which I
     could not translate into Arabic: "The hen is in the yard." My mind
     was more at play than at learning. I was very clever at housework,
     and at dressing dolls, and was always the leader in all games. From
     that you can see that I was not a very good girl at school. After
     the two first years I began to think how nice it would be to become
     a real Christian like my dear teacher Dr. De Forest. Then I used to
     pray, and read, especially the "Pilgrim's Progress," and my mind
     was so busy at it that I used sometimes to leave my lesson and go
     and sit alone in my room. Nobody knew what was the matter with me,
     but Dr. De Forest used to ask me why I did not go to school? I
     told him that I was very troubled, and he told me to pray to God
     very earnestly to give me a new heart. I did pray, but I did not
     have an answer then. Three or four times during my school time I
     began to wish to become a Christian. I prayed and was very
     troubled. I wept and would not play, and as I got no immediate
     answer, I left off reading and sometimes praying entirely.
     Everybody noticed that I did not much care to read, and especially
     a religious book. I felt that my heart had grown harder than before
     I had wished to become a Christian. The greatest trial was that I
     had no faith, and for that reason I used not to believe in prayer,
     but still I longed to become a real Christian. I left school in the
     year 1852, and went to live at home with my mother. I was taken
     ill, and when I was ill I was very much afraid of death, for I felt
     that God was very angry with me.

     Till about two years after I left school, I had no religion at all.
     One evening a young man from Abeih came to our house. His name is
     Giurgius el Haddad, who is now Mr. Calhoun's cook. After a little
     while he began to talk about religion, and to read the book,
     "Little Henry and his Bearer." I felt very much ashamed that others
     who did not have the opportunity to learn about religion had
     religion, and I, who had learned so much, had none. That was the
     blessed evening on which I began to inquire earnestly about my
     salvation. I was three months praying and found no answer to my
     prayers. Christian friends tried to lead me to Christ, but I could
     not take hold of Him, till He Himself appeared to my soul in all
     His beauty and excellency. Before I found peace Dr. Eli Smith and
     Mr. Whiting wanted me to teach a day school for them. That was
     about three years after I left off learning. "Oh," thought I, "how
     can I teach others about Christ when I do not know Him myself?"
     However I began the school by opening and closing it with prayer,
     without any faith at all. So I began by reading from the first of
     Matthew, till I came to the 16th chapter. When I came to that
     chapter I read as usual, with blinded eyes; but when I came to the
     (13th) thirteen verse, and from there to the seventeenth, where it
     says, "Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona, for flesh and blood hath
     not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven," I
     felt that this had been said to me, and were these words sounded
     from heaven I would not have felt happier. How true it is that no
     flesh could reveal unto me what God had revealed, because many
     Christian friends tried to make me believe, but I could not, I
     felt as if everything had become new and beautiful, because my
     Heavenly Father had made them all. I was sometimes with faith and
     sometimes doubting, and by these changes my faith was strengthened.
     After a short time, I asked Mr. Whiting to let me join the Church.
     He asked me if I saw any change in myself, and I said, "One thing I
     know, that I used to dislike Christian people, and now they are my
     best friends." After a short time I was permitted to join the
     Church. Then I left off teaching the day school, and was asked to
     teach in a Boarding school with Miss Cheney, in the same Seminary
     where I was brought up. We taught in that school only six months.
     Miss Cheney married, and I was engaged to be married. While I was
     engaged, I went to Mr. Bird's school for girls in Deir el Kamr, and
     taught there for more than a year. I was married by Mr. Bird in his
     own house to M. Yusef Barakat, and then we went to Hasbeiya. I
     stayed there seven months and then went to Beirût, and thence to
     Damascus with my husband, because he had to teach there. I had
     nothing to do there but to look after my house, my little boy, and
     my husband.

     After some time, the massacre broke out in Damascus, (July 9,
     1860,) so we came back as refugees to Beirût. Soon after my husband
     was taken ill and then died. In that same year 1860, dear Mrs.
     Bowen Thompson came to Beirût. She felt for the widows and orphans,
     being herself a widow. She asked me if I would come and teach a
     school for the widows and orphans, which I accepted thankfully. We
     opened the school with five children and seven women, and the work,
     by God's help has prospered, so that now, instead of one school,
     there are twenty-two schools. Until now I continue teaching in the
     Institution, and had I known that nearly all my life would be spent
     in teaching, I should have tried to gain more when I was a child. I
     can forget father and mother, but can never forget those who taught
     me, especially about religion. Although some of them are dead, yet
     still they live by their Christian example, which they have left
     behind. My whole life will be full of gratitude to those dear
     Christian friends, and I pray that God himself may reward them a
     hundred fold.

                    Yours respectfully,

                                                  Sada Barakat.

In the year 1851 the Missionary Sewing Society of the Beirût Female
Seminary heard of the interesting state of things in Aintab, and that
the women there were anxious to learn to read. The missionaries in
Aintab hired an old man to go around from house to house to teach the
women to read in their homes, but the women were so eager to learn that
the old man was unable to meet the demand. So children were employed to
assist. The plan worked admirably, and in 1851, eighty women received
instruction and became able to read God's Word. The Arab girls in Mrs.
De Forest's school were called together, and it was proposed that they
sew and embroider and send the proceeds of their work to pay the little
girl teachers in Aintab. There were present, Ferha, (joy,) Sara, Saada
Sabunjy, Miriam, Khushfeh, Khurma, Mirta, (Martha) Feifun, Katrina,
Hada, Sada el Haleby, Esteer, Helloon, Fetny, Akabir, Hamdy, and Liza.
The needles were briskly plied, and in due time, two hundred and fifty
piastres were collected and forwarded to Aintab. Mrs. Schneider wrote
back thanking the "dear Arab girls." The habits of benevolence thus
acquired have continued with the most of these girls until now. The
greater part of them are now church-members and the heads of families.

The following letter written by Mrs. De Forest in Feb. 1852, gives some
account of Lulu Araman.

                                        Beirût, Syria, _February, 1852_.

     My Dear young friends in Thetford:

     The quilt you sent came safely, and I thank you much for all the
     care and trouble you have taken to make and quilt it for me. I at
     first thought of keeping it for myself, but then it occurred to me
     that perhaps it might please you better and interest you more if I
     gave it to Lulu, one of my girls, who is to be married some time
     this year to Mr. Michaiel Araman, one of the teachers in the Abeih
     Seminary. You will thus have the pleasure of feeling that you have
     in one sense done something for the school, as she is an assistant
     pupil, or pupil teacher. She has been with me now for about eight
     years, and seems almost like my own daughter. Perhaps you will be
     interested in knowing something of her.

     She was born in a pleasant valley, Wady Shehrûr, near Beirût,
     celebrated for its fine oranges, and indeed for almost all kind of
     fine fruits. She lost both her parents early in life. Her brothers
     (contrary to the usual custom here where girls are not much
     regarded or cared for) were very kind to her, and as she was a
     delicate child, they took great care of her, and often used to make
     vows to some saint in her behalf. At one time, when she was very
     ill, they vowed to Mar Giurgis (for they are members of the Greek
     Church, and St. George is one of the favorite saints of the Greeks,
     and indeed of all the Christian sects here, and they still show the
     spot where he is said to have killed the dragon) that if she
     recovered, she should carry to one of his shrines two wax candles
     as tall as herself and of a prescribed weight. While she was still
     feeble they provided the candles, and as she was too weak to walk,
     they carried her and the candles also, to the holy place and
     presented them.

     When she was eight years old, they were persuaded by an
     acquaintance to place her in one of the Mission families. Here she
     was instructed in her own language, and especially in the Holy
     Scriptures. She was allowed, however, to keep her feasts and fasts,
     and to attend her own church, until she became convinced that these
     things would not save her and she wished to give them up. One feast
     day the lady with whom she lived gave her some sewing and told her
     to seat herself and do her task. She refused, saying it was a feast
     day, and it was unlawful work. A little while after she asked
     permission to go and visit her brother's family; but the lady told
     her, "No, if it is unlawful to work, it is unlawful to visit. I
     have no objection to your keeping your feast days, but if you do
     you must keep them as holy time." So she gave her a portion of
     Scripture to learn, and she was kept very quiet all day, as though
     it was the Sabbath, and without the day being made agreeable to her
     like the Sabbath by going to Church and Sabbath School. She did
     not at all like keeping a feast in this manner, which is very
     different from the manner in which such a day or even the Sabbath,
     is kept in this land, and was ever after ready to work when told to
     do so. When her brothers saw that she was beginning to give up
     their vain ceremonies, they became anxious to get her away, lest
     she should become a Protestant; and at one time, when she went home
     to attend the wedding of one of her relatives, they refused to
     allow her to return, and it was only through the good management of
     the native friend who was sent for her, and her own determination
     to come, that she was permitted to come back.

     We hope that she became truly pious six years ago, in 1846, as her
     life evinces that she is striving to live according to the precepts
     of the gospel. She has never dared to go home again, although it
     has been a great trial for her to stay away, because she knew that
     she should be obliged to remain there, and to conform to the
     idolatrous rites of the Greek Church. She has assisted us in the
     School for nearly five years, besides teaching a day school at
     various times, before the Boarding School was commenced, and we
     shall feel very sorry to part with her. Still we hope that she will
     yet be useful to her countrywomen, and furnish them an example of a
     happy Christian home, of which there are so few at present in this
     country.

     Our school has now nineteen pupils, most of whom are promising.
     Some we hope are true Christians. The girls opened their box the
     other day, and found that they had a little more than last year
     from their earnings. Some friends added a little, and they have now
     forty dollars. One half they send to China, and the other half give
     to the Church here.

The hope expressed by Mrs. De Forest in 1852, with regard to the future
usefulness of Lulu, has not been disappointed. Her family is a model
Christian family, the home of piety and affection, the centre of a pure
and hallowed influence. Her eldest daughter Katie, named from Mrs. De
Forest, is now a teacher in the Beirût Female Seminary in which her
father has been the principal instructor in the Bible and in the higher
Arabic branches for ten years. For years this institution was carried
on in Lulu's house, and she was the Matron while Rufka was the
Preceptress, and its very existence is owing to the patient and faithful
labors of those two Christian Syrian women. If any one who reads these
lines should doubt the utility of labors for the girls and women of the
Arab race, let him visit first the squalid, disorderly, cheerless and
Christless homes of the mass of the Arab villagers of Syria, and then
enter the cheerful, tidy, well ordered home of Mr. and Mrs. Araman, when
the family are at morning prayers, listen to the voice of prayer and
praise and the reading of God's word. Instead of the father sitting
gloomily alone at his morning meal, and the mother and children waiting
till their lord is through and then eating by themselves in the usual
Arab way, he would see the whole family seated together in a Christian,
homelike manner, the Divine blessing asked, and the meal conducted with
propriety and decorum. After breakfast the father and Katie go to the
Seminary to give their morning lessons, Henry (named for Dr. De Forest)
sets out for the College, in which he is a Sophomore, and the younger
children go to their various schools. Lulu's place at church is rarely
vacant, and since that "relic of barbarism" the _curtain_ which
separated the men from the women has been removed from the building, the
whole family, father, mother, and children sit together and join in the
worship of God. Her brother and relatives from "Wady" are on the most
affectionate terms with her, and her elder sister is in the domestic
department of the Beirût Female Seminary.

This change is very largely due to the efforts of Mrs. De Forest, whose
name with that of her sainted husband is embalmed in the memory of the
Christian families of Syria, and will be held in everlasting
remembrance. The _second generation_ of Christian teachers is now
growing up in Syria. Three of Mrs. De Forest's pupils have daughters now
engaged in teaching. Khushfeh, Lulu, and Sada el Haleby; and Miriam
Tabet has a daughter married to Mr. S. Hallock, of the American Press in
Beirût.


FRUITS OF DR. DE FOREST'S GIRL'S SCHOOL.

In the autumn of 1852, there was a school of thirty girls in B'hamdûn, a
village high up in Mt. Lebanon. Fifteen months before the teacher was
the only female in the village who could read, and she had been taught
by the native girls in Dr. De Forest's school. Quite a number of the
girls of the village had there learned to read, and they all came to the
school clean and neatly dressed. They committed to memory verses of
Scripture, and it was surprising to see how correctly they recited them
at the Sabbath School. At meeting they were quiet and attentive like the
best behaved children in Christian lands. It would be difficult to sum
up the results of that little school for girls twenty years ago in
B'hamdûn. That village is full of gospel light. A Protestant church
edifice is in process of erection, a native pastor, Rev. Sulleba
Jerawan, preaches to the people, and the mass of the people have at
least an intellectual acquaintance with the truth.

The picturesque village of B'hamdûn, where Dr. De Forest's school is
established, is on the side of a lofty mountain. It is nearly 4000 feet
above the level of the Mediterranean Sea. The village is compact as a
little city, the streets narrow, rocky and crooked, the houses
flat-roofed, and the floors of mud. One of the Protestants, the father
of Miriam Tabet, has built a fine large house with glass windows and
paved floors, which is one of the best houses in that part of Lebanon.
The village is surrounded by vineyards, and the grapes are regarded as
the finest in Mt. Lebanon. The people say that they never have to dig
for the foundation of a house, but only to sweep off the dust with a
broom. There is not a shade tree in the village. One day Dr. De Forest
asked, "Why don't you plant a tree?" "We shall not live till it has
grown," was the reply. "But your children will," said the Doctor. "Let
them plant it then," was the satisfactory answer.

My first visit to B'hamdûn was made in February, 1856, a few days after
my first arrival in Syria. On Sabbath morning I attended the Sabbath
School with Mr. Benton, at that time a missionary of the A.B.C.F.M. One
little girl named Katrina Subra, then nine years of age, repeated the
Arabic Hymn "Kûmû wa Rettelû," "Awake and sing the song of Moses and the
Lamb." She was a bright-eyed child of fair complexion and of unusual
intelligence. At that time there was no children's hymn book in Arabic,
and I asked Mr. B. to promise the children that when I had learned the
Arabic, I would translate a collection of children's hymns into Arabic,
which promise was fulfilled first in the printing of the "Douzan el
Kethar," "The tuning of the Harp," in 1861. Katrina was the daughter of
Elias Subra, one of the wealthiest men in the village, who had just then
become a Protestant. She had been interested in the truth for some time,
and though at the time only eight years old, was accustomed during the
preceding summer to tell the Arab children that she was a Protestant,
though they answered her with insults and cursing. At first she could
not bear to be abused, and answered them in language more forcible than
proper, but by the time of my visit she had become softened and subdued
in her manner, and was never heard to speak an unkind word to any one.
She undertook, even at that age, to teach the Greek servant girl in the
family how to read. One day the old Greek Priest met her in the street
and asked her why she did not go to confession as the other Greek
children do. She replied that she could go to Christ and confess. The
priest then said that her father and the rest of the Protestants go to
the missionary and write out their sins on papers which he puts into rat
holes in the wall! Katrina knew this to be a foolish falsehood and told
the priest so. He then asked her how the Protestants confess. She
replied that they confess as the Lord Jesus tells them to, quoting to
him the language of Scripture, (Matt. 6:6.) "But thou when thou
prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut the door, pray
to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father who seeth in secret
shall reward thee openly." The priest was confounded by the ready
truthful answer of the child, and turned away.

Three years later Katrina was a member of the Mission Female Seminary in
Suk el Ghurb, a village three hours distant from Beirût, under the
instruction of Miss Temple and Miss Johnson, and continued there until
the Seminary was broken up by the massacres of May and June, 1860. I
remember well the day when that procession of girls and teachers rode
and walked down from Suk el Ghurb to Beirût. All Southern Lebanon was in
a blaze. Twenty-five villages were burning. Druze and Maronite were in
deadly strife. Baabda and Hadeth which we passed on our way to Beirût,
were a smoking ruin. Armed bodies of Druzes passed and saluted us, but
no one offered to insult one of the girls by word or gesture. Dr. and
Mrs. Bliss gave us lunch at their home in the Suk as we came from Abeih,
and then followed a few days later to Beirût. Miss Temple tried to
re-open the school in Beirût, but the constant tide of refugees coming
in from the mountains, and the daily rumors of an attack by Druzes and
Moslems on Beirût, threw the city into a panic, and it was found
impossible to carry on the work of instruction. The girls were sent to
their parents where this was practicable, and the Seminary as such
ceased for a time to exist. Katrina, was married in 1864 to M. Ghurzûzy,
a Protestant merchant of Beirût, who is now secular agent or Wakil of
the Syrian Protestant College. In 1866, she united with the Evangelical
Church in Beirût. She has had repeated attacks of illness, in which she
has manifested the most entire submission to the Divine will, and a calm
and sweet trust in her Lord and Saviour. Her home is a Christian home,
and her children are being trained in "the nurture and admonition of the
Lord."




CHAPTER VIII.

RE-OPENING OF THE SCHOOL IN BEIRUT.


In 1856 Miss Cheney re-opened the Female Seminary with eight pupils, in
Beirût, and in the 34 schools of the Mission there were 1068 pupils, of
whom 266 were girls.

In 1857, there were 277 girls in the various schools.

In 1858, Miss Temple and Miss Johnson arrived from America, and the
Female Seminary was opened in Suk el Ghurb in the family of Rev. Dr.
Bliss. Miss Johnson and Miss Cheney having returned to the United
States, Miss Mason came to aid Miss Temple in February, 1860. The girl's
school in Beirût under the care of Rufka Gregory, had about 60 pupils.
The civil war in Lebanon, followed by the massacres in Jezzin, Deir el
Komr, Hasbeiya, Rasheiya and Damascus, beginning in May, and continuing
until the middle of July, broke up all our schools and seminaries, and
filled the land with sorrow and desolation.

Miss Temple and Miss Mason remained for a season in Beirût, studying the
Arabic language, and in 1862 Miss Temple having returned to the U.S.A.,
Miss Mason opened a Boarding School for girls in Sidon.

It was decided that none but Protestant girls should be received into
this school, that no English should be taught, and that the style of
eating, sleeping and dress should be conformed as much as possible to
the standard of native customs in the country villages, in order that
the girls might the more readily return to their homes as teachers,
without acquiring European tastes and habits. Miss Mason carried on this
school until 1865, when she returned to the U.S.A., and it was decided
if possible to carry it on with native instructors under the supervision
of Mrs. Eddy.

In the winter of 1867 it was under the kind charge of Mrs. Watson of
Shemlan and her adopted daughter, Miss Handumeh Watson, and is now
conducted by two English young ladies, Miss Jacombs and Miss Stanton,
who are supported by the London "Society for the Promotion of Female
Education in the East." On the removal of the girls' Boarding School to
Sidon, it was evident that the Female Seminary must be re-opened in
Beirût. Owing to the depressed state of Missionary finances in America,
arising from the civil war, it was deemed advisable to reorganize the
Beirût Seminary on a new basis, with only native teachers. The
Providence of God had prepared teachers admirably fitted for this work,
who undertook it with cheerful hope and patient industry. It was decided
to make a paying Boarding School of a higher order than any existing
institution in Syria, and to resume instruction in the English language,
giving lessons also in French and Music to those who were willing to
pay for these branches.

Mr. Michaiel Araman, for many years a teacher in the Abeih Seminary with
Mr. Calhoun, and for some time a native preacher in Beirût, was
appointed instructor in the Biblical History and the Higher Arabic
branches; his wife Lulu, the Matron, and Miss Rufka Gregory, the
Preceptress. Rufka was an orphan, as already stated, and was trained
with her sister Sada in the family of Mr. and Mrs. Whiting for many
years. As a teacher and a disciplinarian she had not an equal among the
women of Syria, and under the joint management of this corps of
teachers, aided by competent assistants in the various branches, the
Seminary rose in public esteem, until it became one of the most
attractive and prosperous institutions in Syria.

In March, 1862, Rufka's day school of seventy girls held a public
examination in the Chapel. The girls were examined in Arabic reading,
geography, grammar, catechism, arithmetic, Scripture lessons and
English, with an exhibition of specimens of their needle work. In the
fall it was commenced as a Boarding School, with two paying pupils and
four charity pupils. The funds for commencing the boarding department
were furnished by Mr. Alexander Van Rensselaer, Mrs. Henry Farnum, Col.
Frazer, H.B.M. Commissioner to Syria, and others. The Seminary not being
under the direction of the Mission as such, nor in connection with the
American Board, was placed under the care of a local Board of Managers,
consisting of Dr. Thomson, Dr. Van Dyck, Consul J.A. Johnson, and Rev.
H.H. Jessup. Dr. Thomson was indefatigable in his efforts to place it on
a firm and permanent foundation, as a purely Native Protestant
institution, and the fact that such a school could be carried on for a
year without a single foreign instructor, was one of the most
encouraging features in the history of the Syria Mission. It was the
first purely native Female Seminary in Western Asia, and we hope it will
not be the last.

It will continue to be the aim of the Mission, and of the present able
faculty of the institution, to train up Native teachers qualified to
carry on the work in the future.

At the same time in the fall of 1862, a school for Damascene girls was
opened in an upper room of my house, under the care of one of Dr. De
Forest's pupils, Sada el Haleby, who carried it on successfully with
seventy girls until August, 1864, when, on my departure for the U.S.A.
the school was taken up by the late Mrs. Bowen Thompson, whose Society
has maintained it until this day.

In 1863, the number of paying boarders in the Seminary had increased to
twenty, and in 1866 the pupils numbered eighty, and the income from
native paying pupils was about fifteen hundred dollars in gold!

The Annual Examination was held in the latter part of June, in the
Mission Chapel, and continued three days, thronged by a multitude of
interested spectators. The Turkish official Arabic Journal of Beirût,
the "Hadikat el Akhbar," published a lengthy report of the Examination,
pronouncing it the most satisfactory examination of girls that ever took
place in Syria. An English clergyman who was present refused to believe
that they were Syrian girls, insisting that they must be English. The
girls recited in Bible History, giving all the important dates from Adam
to Christ, with an account of the rites, sacrifices and prophecies which
refer to Christ, giving also the names of all the patriarchs, judges,
kings and prophets in their order. Twenty-two different classes were
examined, and many of the girls read original compositions.

On the Sabbath, July 1st, two of the assistant teachers, Asîn Haddad and
Sara Sarkis were received to the communion of the Beirût Church. They
traced their religious awakening to the dying testimony of Sara Bistany,
which is described in a subsequent chapter. Several of the younger
pupils were much interested in the subject of religion at the time, and
one little girl about seven years old said to her teacher, "I gave the
Lord my heart, and He took it." Asîn died in Latakiah in 1869,
triumphing in Christ. The women of the neighborhood came to the house of
her brother to hear her joyous expressions of trust in Jesus, and her
assurance that she should soon be with Him in glory. She was the second
daughter of that young bride of fifteen years of age, who learned to
read in 1825, in the school taught by her own husband, Tannus el
Haddad.

In 1867, the health of Rufka having become seriously impaired, she
removed to Egypt, where after a period of rest, she opened on her own
account a school for girls in Cairo, which she maintained with her
wonted energy, until her marriage with the Rev. Mr. Muir, a Scotch
clergyman, whom she accompanied to Melbourne, Australia, in 1869. Since
the death of her husband she has returned to her favorite employment of
teaching, with marked success, among the British population of
Melbourne.

While in Cairo, she passed through a deep and agonizing religious
experience, which she described in the following letter to Mrs. Whiting,
and the result of which was a new life in Christ.

     Cairo, Egypt, _July 9, 1868_.

     "I think I shall always remember my stay in Cairo with much
     pleasure, but the greatest advantage of this year is the
     opportunity I had of stopping to think of the interests of a never
     dying soul, of a neglected Saviour, an offended God. Yes, I have
     reflected, struggled, oh, how hard, and thanks to an ever merciful
     God, I trust I have been led by the Holy Spirit to see and feel my
     great sin, and casting myself at the feet of Jesus, stayed there
     with my sinful heart till a loving Saviour just came and took it
     up. Oh, how grieved was His tender heart when He saw how defiled it
     was with sin and wickedness, but He said, fear not, my blood will
     cleanse it and make it pure; then how He pleaded my case before His
     Father, setting forth His boundless love and infinite righteousness
     as a reason why He wished to be accepted. Yes, dear Mrs. Whiting, I
     hope I can now say, Thy God is my God, and the blessed Saviour you
     have loved so long is now very precious to me. The past winter has
     been a solemn time with me. Many hard struggles have I had, much
     fear that I might have forever grieved God's Holy Spirit, and for
     a long time it all seemed so dark, there seemed no hope for me who
     had been so long living away from the Saviour, but in great fear
     and despair I just rushed and cast myself at His feet, and asked
     Him to let me perish there if I must perish; there was nothing else
     for me to do, and I felt such happiness in just leaving myself in
     His care. How wonderful is His love! But what a life of constant
     prayer and watching is that of a Christian! in the first place to
     aim at close walking with God, leaving Him to order our steps for
     us, and trusting Him so to order our way as to best enable us to
     walk closely with Him. It has been a most comforting thought when I
     find it difficult to live right and feel my utter weakness, that
     Jesus is each day saying to His Father for me, "I pray not she
     should be taken out of the world, but that she should be _kept from
     the evil_," and to live up to our privileges and to walk worthy of
     our high calling.

     My precious teacher, I know you will rejoice and thank God with me
     for His great goodness to me in bringing me to the feet of Jesus.
     Oh, how precious He is to my poor soul! He is Heaven. How He
     blesses me every moment! His boundless love to _me_ who am most
     unworthy of the least of His mercies. If ever any one had reason to
     boast of the loving kindness of the Lord, it surely must be myself.
     In His great mercy I have had the privilege of openly confessing my
     faith in Him, and publicly professing my determination to be the
     Lord's at the last communion in the Church here in May. I put it
     off till then hoping to do it in Beirût in the Church dear Mr.
     Whiting had preached in for so many years, and among the girls I
     had taught, and all the young friends there, but as that was not
     allowed me, I joined the Church here."

Her devoted friend and loving assistant teacher Lucîyah, was deeply
affected by what she learned from Rufka of her new spiritual life, and
she too turned her thoughts to divine things, and soon after the arrival
of Miss Everett and Miss Carruth in 1868, to take charge of the
Seminary, she came out openly on the Lord's side, and in the midst of a
fire of domestic persecution, publicly professed her faith in Jesus as
her only Saviour.

Miss Carruth, after staying just long enough in the Seminary to win the
hearts of teachers and pupils, was obliged to return to her native land,
where she is still an efficient laborer in the New England Woman's
Boards of Missions.

The year following the departure of Rufka to Egypt was a critical time
in the history of the Seminary. Lulu continued in charge of the domestic
department, and Mr. Araman managed the business of the school, while
Mrs. Salt (a sister of Melita and Salome) aided in several of the
classes. But the institution owed its great success during that year, if
not its very existence, to the untiring energy and efficient services of
Mrs. Dr. Bliss and Miss Emilia Thomson, daughter of the Rev. Dr.
Thomson. They each gave several hours every day to instruction in the
English language, the Scriptures and music, and the high standard of
excellence already attained in the Seminary was maintained if not
surpassed.

Their perfect familiarity with the Arabic language gave them a great
advantage in the management and instruction of the pupils, and their
efforts on behalf of the Institution, in maintaining it in full and
successful operation during the year previous to the arrival of Miss
Everett and Miss Carruth, deserve grateful recognition.

In the winter of 1870 and 1871 Miss Sophia Loring, and Miss Ellen
Jackson arrived from America as colleagues of Miss Everett, and under
their efficient management aided by Mr. Araman, Lucîyah and other native
teachers, the Seminary is enjoying a high degree of prosperity.

In March, 1864, the Mission had issued an appeal for funds to erect a
permanent home for this Seminary, and in 1866 the present commodious and
substantial edifice was erected, a lasting monument of the liberality of
Christian men and women in America and England.

Its cost was about eleven thousand dollars, and the raising of this sum
was largely due to the liberality and personal services of Mr. Wm. A.
Booth, of New York, who also kindly acted as treasurer of the building
fund. The lumber used in its construction was brought from the state of
Maine. The doors and windows were made under the direction of Dr. Hamlin
of Constantinople, in Lowell, Mass., the tiles came from Marseilles, the
stone from the sandstone quarries of Ras Beirût, the stone pavement
partly from Italy and partly from Mt. Lebanon, and the eighty iron
bedsteads from Birmingham, England. The cistern, which holds about
20,000 gallons, was built at the expense of a Massachusetts lady, and
the portico by a lady of New York. The melodeon was given by ladies in
Georgetown, D.C., and the organ is the gift of a benevolent lady in
Newport, R.I.

Time would fail me to recount the generous offerings of Christian men
and women who have aided in the support of this school during the ten
years of its history. Receiving no pecuniary aid from the American
Board, the entire responsibility of its support fell upon a few members
of the Syria Mission. Travellers who passed through the Holy Land,
sometimes assumed the support of charity pupils, or interested their
Sabbath Schools in raising scholarships, on their return home, and a few
noble friends in the United States have sent on their gifts from time to
time unsolicited, to defray the general expenses of the Institution. Its
support has been to some of us a work of _faith_, as well as a labor of
love. Not unfrequently has the end of the month come upon us, without
one piastre in the treasury for paying the teachers' salaries or buying
bread for the children, when suddenly, in some unknown and unexpected
way, funds would be received, sufficient for all our wants. About two
years since the funds were entirely exhausted. More than a hundred
dollars would be owing to the teachers and servants on the following
day. The accounts were examined, and all possible means of relief
proposed, but without avail. At length one of the members of the
Executive Committee asked leave to look over the accounts. He did so,
and said he could not find any mention of a sum of about thirty
Napoleons, which he was sure he had paid into the treasury several
months before, as a donation from Mr. Booth of New York, whose son had
died in Beirût. The money had _not_ been paid into the school treasury.
The vouchers were all produced, and there was left no resort but prayer.
There was earnest supplication that night that the Lord would relieve
us from our embarrassment, and provide for the necessities of the
school. The next morning the good brother, above mentioned, recalled to
mind his having given that money to Dr. Van Dyck in the Mission Library
for the School. Dr. Van Dyck was consulted, and at once replied,
"Certainly I received the money. It is securely locked up in the safe
where it has been for months awaiting orders." The safe was opened, and
the money found to be almost to a piastre the amount needed for
obligations of the School.

Since the transfer of the Syria Mission to the board of Missions of the
Presbyterian Church, the pecuniary status of the Seminary has been
somewhat modified. The Women's Boards of Missions of New York and
Philadelphia have assumed the responsibility of raising scholarships for
its support among the Auxiliary Societies and Sabbath Schools; the
salaries of the teachers are provided for by individuals and churches,
and several of the old friends of the school retain their interest in
it, while the danger of a deficit is guarded against, by the guarantees
of the good Christian women who are doing so grand and noble a work in
this age for the world's evangelization. The annual cost of supporting a
pupil now is about sixty dollars gold. The number of paying pupils is
increasing, and the prospect for the future is encouraging.

In the year 1864, a letter was received from certain Christian women in
America, addressed to the girls of the School, and some of the older
girls prepared a reply in Arabic, a translation of which was sent to
America. It was as follows:

"From the girls of the Beirût School in Syria, to the sisters beloved in
the Lord Jesus, in a land very far away. We have been honored in reading
the lines which reached us from you, O sisters, distant in body but near
in spirit, and we have given glory to God the Creator of all, who has
caused in your hearts true love to us, and spiritual sympathies which
have prompted you, dear sisters in the Lord, to write to us. Yes, it is
the Lord Jesus who has brought about between us and between you (Arabic
idiom) a spiritual intercourse, without the intercourse of bodily
presence. For we have never in our lives seen you, nor your country, nor
have we spoken to you face to face, and so you likewise have not seen
us. Had neither of us the Word of God, the Holy and Only Book which is
from one Father and a God unchangeable, to tell us that we have one
nature, and have all fallen into one transgression, and are saved in one
way, which is the Lord Jesus, we could not, as we now can, call you in
one union, our sisters. The Lord Jesus calls those who love Him His
brethren, and since He is the only bond and link, are we not His
sisters, and thus sisters to each other? Truly, O dear sisters, we are
thirsting to see you, and we all unite in offering prayers and praises
to God, through His Son Immanuel, the possessor of the glorious Name,
praying that we may see you; but we cannot in this world, for we are in
the East, and you are in the West, far, very far. But, O dear friends,
as we hope for the resurrection from the dead, so after our period in
this world is ended, we shall meet by the blessing of God in those
bright courts which are illumined by the light of the Saviour, which
need not sun nor moon to give them light,--that holy place which is
filled with throngs of angels who never cease to offer glory to God.
There we may meet and unite with all the saved in praising the Saviour.
There we may meet our friends who have passed on before us "as waiting
they watch us approaching the shore," as we sing in the hymn. There
around the throne of the glorious Saviour, there in the heavenly
Jerusalem, our songs will not be mingled with tears and grief, for the
Lord Jesus Himself will wipe away all tears from our eyes. There will
not enter sin nor its likeness into our hearts sanctified by the Holy
Spirit. There this body which shall rise incorruptible, will not return
to the state in which it was in this world. In those courts we shall be
happy always, and the reason is that we shall always be with the Great
Shepherd, as it is said in the Book of Revelation, 'He shall shepherd
them and lead them to fountains of living waters and wipe all tears from
their eyes.' Our sisters, were it not for the Holy Bible which the Lord
has given to His people, we should have no comfort to console us with
regard to our friends whom we have lost by means of death. We beg you to
help us by offering prayers to the living and true God that He will make
us faithful even unto death,--that He will bless us while on the sea of
this life, until we reach the shore of peace without fear or trouble,
that we may be ready to stand before the seat of the Lord Jesus the
Judge of all, clothed in the robes of His perfect righteousness, which
he wove for us on the Cross, and is now ready to give to those who ask
Him. Let us then all ask of God that this our only treasure may be
placed where no thief can break in and steal, and no moth shall corrupt.
And may the Lord preserve you!

We love to sing this hymn,

    'Holy Bible, Book Divine,
    Precious treasure, thou art mine!'

and we entreat you that when you sing it, you will let it be a
remembrancer from us to you."

In March, 1865, a little girl was brought to the school under somewhat
peculiar circumstances. Years ago, in the days of Mr. Whiting, a
Maronite monk named Nejm, became enlightened, left the monastery and was
married to a Maronite woman named Zarifeh, by Mr. Whiting. For years the
poor man passed through the fires of persecution and trial. Even his
wife, in her ignorance, though not openly opposing him, trembled with
fear every time he read the Scriptures aloud. At the time mentioned
above, their little daughter Resha was about five years of age. The
Papal Maronite Bishop of Beirût made a visit to Nejm's village, Baabda,
to dispense indulgences, in accordance with the Pope's Encyclical
letter. Nejm was called upon to pay his portion of the sum assessed upon
the people, but having been a Protestant fifteen years, he refused to
pay it. At the instigation of the priests, his wife was then taken from
him, and his little Resha, his only child, was carried off by one of the
priests to Beirût, and thrust inside the gates of the convent of the
French Sisters of Charity. The poor father came to me, well-nigh
broken-hearted, pleading for assistance. I laid the case before His
Excellency Daûd Pasha, Governor of Lebanon, who was then in Beirût, and
drew up a petition to the Pasha of Beirût also, on the subject. Nejm
went about weeping and wringing his hands, and my feelings became deeply
enlisted in his behalf. Three weeks afterwards, after a series of
petitions and visits to the Pasha of Beirût, the girl Resha was removed
from the convent and taken by Nejm's enemies to a house near Nahr
Beirût, about two miles distant, and just over the border line of the
Mountain Pashalic. I then addressed another letter to Daûd Pasha, and he
promptly ordered her to be restored to her father. The manner in which
Nejm, the father, finally secured the child was not a little amusing. He
had been searching for his child for several weeks, waiting and
watching, until his patience was about exhausted, when he heard that
Resha was again in the hands of the priests in Baabda. The mother
followed the child, and the priests threatened to kill her, if she
informed her husband where the girl was secreted. Daûd Pasha was then at
his winter palace in Baabda, and Nejm took my letter to him. While
awaiting a reply at the door, some one informed him that his daughter
was at the fountain. Without waiting further for official aid, he ran to
the fountain, took up his daughter, put her on his back, and ran for
Beirût, a distance of about four miles, where he brought her to my
house, and placed her in my room, with loud ejaculations of thanks to
God. "Neshkar Allah; El mejd lismoo." Thanks to God! Glory to His name!
The mother soon followed, and the girl was sent as a day scholar to the
Seminary. They are now living in Baabda. The mother, Zarify, united with
the Evangelical Church of Beirût, July 21, 1872, giving the best
evidence of a true spiritual experience. The little girl is anxious to
teach, and it was proposed to employ her as an assistant in the girls'
school in Baabda, but the tyrannical oppressions of the priesthood upon
the family who had offered their house for the school, and the refusal
of the Pasha of Lebanon to grant protection to the persecuted, have
obliged the brethren there to postpone their request for a school for
the present.

Alas for the poor women of Syria! Even when they seek to obtain the
consolations of the Gospel by learning to read the Word of life, they
are surrounded by priests and Sheikhs who watch their chance to destroy
the "Bread of Life!" In March, 1865, a Maronite woman called at the
Press to buy a book of poems, to teach her boy to read. "Why not buy a
Testament?" asked the bookseller. "I did buy an Engeel Mushekkel," (a
voweled Testament.) "Be careful of it then," said Khalil, "for the
edition is exhausted, and you cannot get another for months." "It is too
late to be careful now, for the book _has been burned_." "Burned? by
whom?" "By the Jesuits, who gathered a large pile and burned them." God
grant that as Tyndale's English New Testament, first printed in 1527 was
only spread the more widely for the attempts of the Papal Bishop of
London to burn it, so the Arabic Bible may receive a new impulse from
the similarly inspired efforts of the Bishop's successors!




CHAPTER IX.

LUCIYA SHEKKUR.


The work done for Christ and for Syrian girls in the families of
Missionaries in Syria, may well compare with that done in the
established institutions of learning. Mrs. Whiting was not alone in the
work of training native Arab girls in her own home. The same work had
been done by other Missionaries before her, and has been carried on with
no little success by Mrs. Bird, Mrs. Calhoun and others, up to the
present time.

It is an interesting sight to see the Thursday afternoon Women's meeting
in the house of Mrs. Calhoun in Abeih, and to know that a large part of
that company of bright, intelligent and tidily dressed young native
women, who listen so intently to the Bible lesson, and join so heartily
in singing the sweet songs of Zion, were trained up either in her own
family, or under her own especial influence. By means of her own example
in the training of her children, she has taught the women of Abeih, and
through them multitudes of women in other villages, the true Christian
modes of family government and discipline, and introduced to their
notice and practice many of those little conveniences and habits in the
training of children, whose influence will be felt for many
generations.

When Mr. and Mrs. Bird removed to Deir el Komr in 1855, they not only
opened a large school for the education of girls, with Sada Haleby, one
of Dr. De Forest's pupils, as teacher, but received into their own
family three young girls, named Lucîya, Sikkar and Zihry, all of whom
entered upon spheres of usefulness. Zihry became a teacher, in Deir el
Komr, and has continued to teach until the present time. She was at one
time connected with the Beirût Female Seminary, and is now teaching in
the Institution of Mrs. Shrimpton, under the auspices of the British
Syrian Schools.

Luciya taught in Deir el Komr until the school was overwhelmed in the
fires and blood of the Massacre year, 1860.

In 1862 she taught in the Sidon School, and afterwards married the Rev.
Sulleba Jerwan, the first native pastor in Hums. In that great city, and
amid the growing interest of the young Protestant community, she found a
wide and attractive field of labor. She was a young woman of great
gentleness and delicacy of nature, and of strong religious feeling, and
entered upon the work of laboring among the women and girls of Hums,
with exemplary zeal and discretion. She became greatly beloved, and her
Godly example and gentle spirit will never be forgotten.

But at length her labors were abruptly cut short. Consumption, a disease
little known in Syria, but which afterwards cut down her brother and
only sister Sikkar, fastened upon her, and she was obliged, in great
suffering, to leave the raw and windy climate of Hums, for the milder
air of Beirût. Her two brothers being in the employ of Miss Whately in
Cairo, she went, on their invitation, to Egypt, where after a painful
illness, she fell asleep in Jesus. Amid all her sufferings, she
maintained that same gentle and lovely temper of mind, which made her so
greatly beloved by all who knew her.

She has rested from her labors, and her works do follow her. Not long
after her sister Sikkar, who had also been trained in Mrs. Bird's
family, died in her native village Ain Zehalteh.

Her last end also, was peace, and although no concourse of Druze Sheikhs
came barefoot over the snow to her funeral, as they did on the death of
the Sitt Selma, in the same village, no doubt a concourse of higher and
holier beings attended her spirit to glory.

When Luciya was in Beirût before her departure to Egypt, I used to see
her frequently, and I shall never forget the calm composure with which
she spoke of her anticipated release from the pains and sufferings of
life. Christ was her portion, and she lived in communion with him,
certain that ere long she should depart and be with him forever.

The poor Moslem women in the houses adjoining her room used to come in,
and with half-veiled faces look upon her calm and patient face with
wonder. Would that they too might find her Saviour precious to them, in
their hours of sickness, suffering and death!

Truly, there is no religion but that of Jesus Christ, that can soften
the pillow of suffering, and take away the sting and dread of death.

One of the most serious difficulties in the way of the higher female
education in Syria, is the early age at which girls are married. One
young girl attended the Beirût Seminary for two years, from eight to
ten, and the teachers were becoming interested in her progress, when
suddenly her parents took her out of the school, and gave her to a man
in marriage. After the festivities of the marriage week were over at her
husband's house, she went home to visit her mother, _taking her dolls
with her_ to amuse herself!

The Arabic journal "the Jenneh" of Beirût, contained a letter in June,
1872, from its Damascus correspondent, praising the fecundity of Syria,
and stating that a young woman who was married at nine and a half,
became a grandmother at twenty! Such instances are not uncommon in
Damascus and Hums, where the chief and almost the only concern of
parents is to marry off their daughters as early as nature will allow,
without education, experience or any other qualification for the
responsible duties of married life. When the above mentioned letter from
Damascus was published, Dr. Van Dyck took occasion to write an article
in the "Neshra," the Missionary Weekly, of which he is the editor,
exposing the folly and criminality of such early marriages, and
demonstrating their disastrous effects on society at large.

Since the establishment of schools and seminaries of a high grade for
girls, this tendency is being decidedly checked in the vicinity of
Beirût, and girls are not given up as incorrigibly old, even if they
reach the age of seventeen.

Dr. Meshakah of Damascus, who has long been distinguished for his
learned and eloquent works on the Papacy, is a venerable white-bearded
patriarch and his wife looks as if she were his daughter. I once asked
him how old she was when married, and he said _eleven_. I asked him why
he married her so young? He said that in his day, young girls received
no training at home, and young men who wished properly trained wives,
had to marry them young, so as to educate them to suit themselves!

Education is rapidly obviating that necessity, and young men are more
than willing that girls to whom they are betrothed, should complete
their education, lest they be eclipsed by others who remain longer at
school. I once called on a wealthy native merchant in Beirût, who
remarked that "the Europeans have a thing in their country which we have
not. They call it ed-oo-cashion, and I am anxious to have it introduced
into Syria." This "ed-oo-cashion" is already settling many a question in
Syria which nothing else could settle, and the natives are also learning
that something more than mere book-knowledge is needed, to elevate and
refine the family. One of the most direct results of female education
thus far in Syria has been the abolition from certain classes of
society of some of those superstitious fears which harass and torment
the ignorant masses.




CHAPTER X.

RAHEEL.


No sketch of Woman's Work for Syrian women would be complete which did
not give some account of the life and labors of that pioneer in work for
Syrian women, Mrs. Sarah L.H. Smith, wife of Dr. Eli Smith. She reached
Beirût, January 28, 1834, full of high and holy resolves to devote her
life to the benefit of her Syrian sisters. From the first to the very
last of her life in Syria, this was the one great object of her toils
and prayers. As soon as April 2, she writes, "Our school continues to
prosper, and I love the children exceedingly. Do pray that God will
bless this incipient step to enlighten the women of this country. You
cannot conceive of their deplorable ignorance. I feel it more and more
every day. Their energies are expended in outward adorning of plaiting
the hair and gold and pearls and costly array, literally so. I close
with one request, _that you will pray for a revival of religion in
Beirût_." Again she writes, June 30, 1834, "I feel somewhat thoughtful,
this afternoon, in consequence of having heard of the ready consent of
the friends of a little girl, that I should take her as I proposed, and
educate her. I am anxious to do it, and yet my experience and
observation in reference to such a course, and my knowledge of the
sinful heart of a child, lead me to think I am undertaking a great
thing. I feel, too, that my example and my instruction will control her
eternal destiny." This girl was Raheel Ata. Again, August 16: "It is a
great favor that so many of the men and boys can read. Alas, our poor
sisters! the curse rests emphatically upon them. Among the Druze
princesses, some, perhaps the majority, furnish an exception and can
read. Their sect is favorable to learning. Not so with the Maronites. I
have one scholar from these last, but when I have asked the others who
have been here if they wished to read, they have replied most absolutely
in the negative, saying that it was for boys, and not for them. I have
heard several women acknowledge that they knew no more than the
donkeys."

August 23. A Maronite priest compelled two little girls to leave her
school, but the Greek priest sent "his own daughter, a pretty,
rosy-cheeked girl" to be taught by Mrs. Smith. On the 22d of September,
1834, she wrote from B'hamdûn, a village five hours from Beirût, on
Lebanon, "Could the females of Syria be educated and regenerated, the
whole face of the country would change; even, as I said to an Arab a few
days since, to the appearance of the houses and the roads. One of our
little girls, whom I taught before going to the mountains, came to see
me a day or two since, and talked incessantly about her love for the
school, and the errors of the people here, saying that they 'cared not
for Jesus Christ, but only for the Virgin Mary.'"

October 8. She says, "A servant woman of Mrs. Whiting, who has now
lived long enough with her to love her and appreciate her principles,
about a year and a half since remarked to some of the Arabs, that the
people with whom she lived did 'not lie, nor steal, nor quarrel, nor do
any such things; but poor creatures,' said she, 'they have no
religion.'"

On the 22d of October, she wrote again, "Yesterday I went up to Mr.
Bird's to consult about the plan of a _school-house now commenced for
females_. I can hardly believe that such a project is actually in
progress, and I hail it as the dawn of a happy change in Syria. Two
hundred dollars have been subscribed by friends in this vicinity, and I
told Mr. B. that if necessary he might expend fifty more upon the
building, as our Sabbath School in Norwich had pledged one hundred a
year for female education in Syria."

The principal contributor to this fund was Mrs. Alexander Tod, formerly
Miss Gliddon, daughter of the U.S. Consul in Alexandria.

The building stood near where the present Church in Beirût stands, and
was removed, and the stones used in the extension of the old Chapel. In
the year 1866 Mr. Tod revisited Beirût and contributed £100 towards the
erection of the new Female Seminary, saying that as Mrs. Tod aided in
the first Female Seminary building in Beirût, he wished to aid in the
second. The school-house was a plain structure, and was afterwards used
as a boy's school, and the artist who photographed the designs printed
in this volume received his education there under the instruction of the
late Shahîn Sarkis, husband of Azizy.

In the latter part of October, 1834, Mrs. Smith writes, "Yesterday I
commenced the female school with four scholars, which were increased to
ten to-day, and the number will probably continue to augment as before
from week to week. As I walked home about sunset this evening, I
thought, 'Can it be that I am a schoolmistress, and the only one in all
Syria?' and I tripped along with a quick step amid Egyptians, Turks and
Arabs, Moslems and Jews, to my quiet and pleasant home."

November 9. "I sometimes indulge the thought that God has sent me to the
females of Syria--to the little girls, of whom I have a favorite
school--for their good."

January 5, 1835. "On Friday I distributed rewards to twenty-three little
girls belonging to my school, which, as they are all poor, consisted of
clothing. Our Sabbath School also increases. Eighteen were present last
Sabbath."

On the 11th of January Dr. Thomson wrote, "Mrs. Smith's female school
prospers wonderfully, but it is the altar of her own health; and I fear
that in the flame that goeth up toward heaven from off that altar, she
will soon ascend as did Manoah's angel. We can hardly spare her; she is
our only hope for a female school in Beirût at present."

The state of society in Syria at that time is well pictured in the
following language, used by Mrs. Smith in a letter dated February 12,
1835: "Excepting the three or four native converts, we know not one
pious religious teacher, one judicious parent, one family circle
regulated by the fear of God; no, _not even one_!"

"I wish I had strength to do more, but my school and my studies draw
upon my energies continually." Even at that early day Moslem girls came
to be taught by Mrs. Smith. She writes June 2, "A few days since, one of
my little Moslem scholars, whose father was once an extensive merchant
here, came and invited me to make a call upon her mother. I took Raheel
and accompanied her to their house which is in our neighborhood. I found
it a charming spot and very neatly kept. Hospitality is regarded here as
a religious act, I think, and a reputation for it is greatly prized."

In July she wrote of what has not ceased to be a trial to all
missionaries in Beirût for the past forty years, the necessity of
removing to the mountains during the hot summer months. The climate of
the plain is debilitating to foreigners, and missionary families are
obliged to spend three months of the hot season in the Lebanon villages.
"My school interests me more and more every day, and I do not love to
think of suspending it even for a few weeks during the hot season. Day
before yesterday a wealthy Jewish lady came with her two daughters to
the school, and begged me to take the youngest as a scholar."

July 19. "At our Sabbath School to-day were _twenty-eight_ scholars,
twenty-one girls and seven boys."

July 31. "To-day I closed my school for the month of August by the
distribution of rewards to _thirty little girls_. The American and
English Consuls and a few Arab friends were present, and expressed much
pleasure at the sight of so many young natives in their clean dress. A
few of the more educated scholars read a little in the New Testament."

August 8. "On Saturday I closed my school for the month of August. It
was increasing every day in numbers and I would gladly have continued
it. Last Sabbath we had at the Sabbath School forty-six scholars, a
_fourth of whom were Moslems_."

September 29. "Yesterday I commenced my school again with twenty
scholars; which, for the first day, was a good number. Mrs. Whiting has
ten little Moslem girls in Jerusalem, and the promise of more."

December 14. "On Saturday, our native female prayer-meeting consisted of
twenty, besides two children. Fourteen were Arabs, more than were ever
present before. We met in the girls' school room, where we intend in
future to assemble. We sung part of a psalm, as we have begun to teach
music in our school. We find the children quite as capable of forming
musical sounds as those in our own country; but alas, _we have no psalms
or hymns adapted to their capacities_. The Arabic cannot be simplified
like the English, without doing violence to Arab taste; at least such
is the opinion now. What changes may be wrought in the language, we
cannot tell. Of this obstacle in the instruction of the young here, you
have not perhaps thought. It is a painful thought to us, that
_children's literature_, if I may so term it, is _incompatible with the
genius of this language_: of course, infant school lessons must be
bereft of many of their attractions."

It may be interesting to know whether present missionary experience
differs from that of Mrs. Smith and her husband in 1835, with regard to
children's literature in the Arabic language.

In 1858, Mr. Ford prepared, with the aid of Mr. Bistany, (the husband of
"Raheel," Mrs. Smith's adopted child,) a series of children's Scripture
Tracts in simple and yet perfectly correct Arabic, so that the youngest
child can understand them. In 1862, we printed the first Children's
Hymn-book, partly at the expense of the girls in Rufka's school. We have
now in Arabic about eighty children's hymns, and a large number of
tracts and story books designed for children. We also publish an
Illustrated Children's Monthly, called the "Koukab es Subah," "The
Morning Star," and the children read it with the greatest eagerness.

The Koran, which is the standard of classic Arabic, cannot be changed,
and hence can never be a book for children. It cannot be a family book,
or a women's book. It cannot attract the minds of the young, with that
charm which hangs around the exquisitely simple and beautiful narratives
of the Old and New Testament. It is a gem of Arabic poetry, but like a
gem, crystalline and unchanging. It has taken a mighty hold upon the
Eastern world, because of its Oriental style and its eloquent assertion
of the Divine Unity. It is reverenced, but not loved, and will stand
where it is while the world moves on. Every reform in government,
toleration and material improvement in the Turkish Empire, Persia and
Egypt, is made in spite of the Koran and contrary to its spirit. The
printing of the Koran is unlawful, but it is being printed. All pictures
of living objects are unlawful, but the Sultan is photographed, Abd el
Kader is photographed, the "Sheikh ul Islam" is photographed. European
shoes are unlawful because sewed with a swine's bristle, but Moslem
Muftis strut about the streets in French gaiters, and the women of their
harems tottle about in the most absurd of Parisian high-heeled slippers.

The Arabic Bible translated by Drs. Eli Smith and Cornelius Van Dyck, is
voweled with the grammatical accuracy and beauty of the Koran with the
aid of a learned Mohammedan Mufti, and yet has all the elegant
simplicity of the original and is intelligible to every Arab, old and
young, who is capable of reading at all. The stories of Joseph, Moses,
and David, of Esther, Daniel and Jonah are as well adapted to the
comprehension of children in the Arabic as in the English.

Not a few of the hymns in the Children's Hymn book are original, written
by M. Ibrahim Sarkis, husband of Miriam of Aleppo, and M. Asaad
Shidoody, husband of Hada. This Hymn book was published in 1862, with
Plates presented by Dr. Robinson's Sabbath School of the First
Presbyterian Church, Brooklyn.

This digression seemed necessary, in order to show the great progress
that has been made since 1836, in preparing a religious literature. It
is no longer true as in Mrs. Smith's day, "that we have no psalms or
hymns adapted to the capacities of children." Nor is it longer true that
"_children's literature is incompatible with the genius of the Arabic
language_."

In a letter addressed to the young women in the "Female Academy at
Norwich," February, 1836, Mrs. Smith gives a vivid description of the
"average woman" of Syria in her time, and the description holds true of
nine-tenths of the women at the present day. There are now native
Christian homes, not the least attractive of which is the home of her
own little protegé Raheel, but the great mass continue as they were
forty years ago. She says, "My dear friends, will you send your thoughts
to this, which is not a heathen, but an unevangelized country. I will
not invite you to look at our little female school of twenty or thirty,
because these form but a drop among the thousands and thousands of youth
throughout Syria; although I might draw a contrast even from this not a
little in your favor. But we will speak of the young Syrian females at
large, moving in one unbroken line to the land of darkness and sorrow.
Among them you will find many a fine form and beautiful face; but alas!
the perfect workmanship of their Creator is rendered tame and insipid,
for want of that mental and moral culture which gives a peculiar charm
to the human countenance. It is impossible for me to bring the females
of this country before you in so vivid a manner that you can form a
correct idea of them. But select from among your acquaintances a lady
who is excessively weak, vain and trifling; who has no relish for any
intellectual or moral improvement; whose conversation is altogether
confined to dress, parties, balls, admiration, marriage; whose temper
and faults have never been corrected by her parents, but who is
following, unchecked, all the propensities of a fallen, corrupt nature.
Perhaps you will not be able to find any such, though I have
occasionally met with them in America. If you succeed, however, in
bringing a person of this character to your mind, then place the
thousands of girls, and the women, too, of this land, once the land of
patriarchs, prophets and apostles, in her class." "These weak-minded
Syrian females are not attentive to personal cleanliness; neither have
they a neat and tasteful style of dress. Their apparel is precisely such
as the Apostle recommended that Christian females should avoid; while
the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit is thrown wholly out of the
account. They have no books, and no means of moral or intellectual
improvement. It is considered a disgrace for a female to know how to
read and write, and a serious obstacle to her marriage, which is the
principal object of the parent's heart. This abhorrence of learning in
females, exists most strongly in the higher classes. Nearly every pupil
in our school is very indigent. Of God's word they understand nothing,
for a girl is taken to church perhaps but once a year, where nothing is
seen among the women but talking and trifling; of course she attaches no
solemnity to the worship of God. No sweet domestic circle of father,
brother, mother and sister, all capable of promoting mutual cheerfulness
and improvement, greets her in her own house. I do not mean to imply
that there exists no family affection among them, for this tie is often
very strong; but it has no foundation in respect, and is not employed to
promote elevation of character. The men sit and smoke their pipes in one
apartment, while in another the women cluster upon the floor, and with
loud and vociferous voices gossip with their neighbors. The very
language of the females is of a lower order than that of the men, which
renders it almost impossible for them to comprehend spiritual and
abstract subjects, when first presented to their minds. I know not how
often, when I have attempted to converse with them, they have
acknowledged that they did not understand me, or have interrupted me by
alluding to some mode or article of dress, or something quite as
foolish." "Thus you see, my young friends, how unhappy is the condition
of the females of Syria, and how many laborers are wanted to cultivate
this wide field. On the great day of final account, the young females of
Syria, of India, of every inhabited portion of the globe, who are upon
the stage of life with you, will rise up, either to call you blessed,
or to enhance your condemnation." "God is furnishing American females
their high privileges, with the intention of calling them forth into the
wide fields of ignorance and error, which the world exhibits. I look
over my country and think of the hundreds and thousands of young ladies,
intelligent, amiable and capable, who are assembled in schools and
academies there; and then turn my eye to Jerusalem, Hebron, Nazareth,
Sychar, Damascus, Tyre, Sidon, Jaffa, and to the numerous villages of
Mount Lebanon, and think, 'Why this inequality of condition and
privileges? Why can there not be stationed at every one of those morally
desolate places, at least one missionary family, and one single female
as a teacher? Does not Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, require it of
His youthful friends in America, that from love to Him, gratitude for
their own distinguished mercies, compassion for perishing souls, and the
expectation of perfect rest and happiness in heaven, they should spread
themselves over the wide world, and feed the sheep and the lambs
scattered without a shepherd upon the mountains?' Yes, He requires it,
and angels will yet behold it; but shall we not see it in our day?"

Great changes have come over Syria since the above words were written.
Not less than twelve high schools for girls have been established since
then in Syria and Palestine, and not far from forty common schools,
exclusively for girls, under the auspices of the different Missionary
Societies.

In February, 1836, Mrs. Smith also undertook the work of _systematic
visiting among the mothers of her pupils_. She says, "Perhaps it will be
a very long time before we shall see any fruit. Indeed those who enter
into our labors may gather it in our stead; yet I am anxious that we
should persevere until we die, though no apparent effect be produced."

In April, 1836, she wrote, "My mind is much upon a female boarding
school; and if I can get the promise of ten girls, we shall, God
willing, remove the press from our house, and commence one in the fall."

In May she commenced a new term of her day school with twenty-six
scholars. She says, "The wife of a persecuted Druze is very anxious to
learn to read, and she comes to our house every day to get instruction
from Raheel." She also says, "We feel the want of books exceedingly. The
little girl whom I took more than a year since, and who advances
steadily in intelligence and knowledge, has no book but the Bible to
read, not one." Then again, "Should our press get into successful
operation, I despair in doing anything in the way of infant schools,
because the Arabic language cannot be simplified, at least under
existing prejudices. If every hymn and little story must be dressed up
in the august habiliments of the Koran, what child of three and six
years old will be wiser and better for them! How complete is the
dominion of the Great Adversary over this people! All the links of the
chain must be separated, one by one. And what a long, I had almost
said, tedious process! But I forget that to each one will be assigned a
few only of these links. We are doing a little, perhaps, in this work;
if faithful, we shall rest in heaven, and others will come and take our
places and our work."

On the eleventh of June, Mrs. Smith's health had become so impaired from
the dampness of the floor and walls of her school building, that her
physician advised a sea voyage for her. After suffering shipwreck on the
coast of Asia Minor, and enduring great hardships, she reached Smyrna,
where she died on the 30th of September, in the triumphs of the Gospel.
Her Memoir is a book worthy of being read by every Christian woman
engaged in the Master's service.

In a letter written from Smyrna, July 28, she says, "I had set my heart
much upon taking Raheel with me. Parents, however, in Syria, have an
especial aversion to parting with their children for foreign countries.
One of my last acts therefore was to make a formal committal of her into
the hands of my kind friend Miss Williams. I had become so strongly
attached to the little girl, and felt myself so much rewarded for all my
efforts with her, that the circumstances of this separation were perhaps
more trying than any associated with our departure."

Mrs. Smith had from the first a desire to take a little Arab girl to be
brought up in her family, and at length selected Raheel, one of the most
promising scholars in her school, when about eight years of age, and
with the consent of her parents adopted her. In her care, attentions
and affections, she took almost the rank of a daughter. She was trained
to habits of industry, truth and studiousness, and although Mrs. S. had
been but nine months in the country when she adopted her, she commenced
praying with her in Arabic from the very first.

Dr. Eli Smith says, "In a word, the expectations Mrs. Smith had formed
in taking her, were fully answered; and she was often heard to say, that
she had every day been amply repaid for the pains bestowed upon her. It
will not be wondered at, that her affections became entwined very
closely around so promising a pupil, and that the attachment assumed
much of the character of parental kindness. Mrs. Smith's sharpest trial,
perhaps, at her departure from Beirût, arose from leaving her behind."

After the departure of Mrs. Smith, her fellow-laborer, Miss Williams,
afterwards Mrs. Hebard, took charge of Raheel, who remained with her
five years. She then lived successively with Mrs. Lanneau and Mrs.
Beadle, and lastly with Dr. and Mrs. De Forest.

When in the family of Dr. De Forest, she became engaged to be married to
Mr. Butrus Bistany, a learned native of the Protestant Church, who was
employed by the Mission as a teacher. Her mother and friends were
opposed to the engagement, as they wished to marry her to a man of their
own selection. On Carnival evening, February 20, in the year 1843, her
mother invited her to come and spend the feast with the family. She
hesitated, but finally consented to go with Dr. De Forest and call upon
her family friends and return before night. After sitting several hours,
the Doctor arose to go and she prepared to follow him. Her mother
protested, saying that they would not allow her to return to her home
with the missionary. Finding that the mother and brother-in-law were
preparing to resist her departure by violence, Dr. De Forest retired,
sending a native friend to stay in the house until his return. He
repaired to the Pasha and laid the case before him. The Pasha declared
her free to choose her own home, as she was legally of age, and sent a
janizary with Dr. De Forest to examine the case and insure her liberty
of action. On entering the house, the janizary called for Raheel and
asked her whether she wished to go home or stay with her mother? She
replied, "I wish to go home to Mrs. De Forest." The janizary then wrote
down her request, and told her to go. She arose to go, but could not
find her shoes. There was some delay, when her brother-in-law seized her
arm and attempted to drag her to an inner room. The Pasha's officer
seized the other arm and the poor girl was in danger of having her
shoulders dislocated. At length the officer prevailed and she escaped.
Her mother and the women who had assembled from the neighborhood, then
set up a terrific shriek, like a funeral wail, "She's lost! she's dead!
wo is me!" It was all pre-arranged. The brother-in-law had been around
to the square to a rendezvous of soldiers, and told them that an attempt
would be made to abduct his sister by force, and if they heard a shriek
from the women, to hasten to his house. The rabble of soldiers wanted no
better pastime than such a melée among the infidels, and promised to
come. When they heard the noise they started on a run. Raheel, having
suspected something of the kind, induced Dr. De Forest to take another
road, and as they turned the corner to enter the mission premises, they
saw the rabble running in hot haste towards her mother's house, only to
find that the bird had flown.

In the following summer she was married to Mr. Bistany, who was for
eight years assistant of Dr. Eli Smith in the work of Bible translation,
and for twenty years Dragoman of the American Consulate. He is now
Principal of a private Boarding School for boys, called the "Medriset el
Wutaniyet" or "Native School," which has about 150 pupils of all sects.
He and his son Selim Effendi are the editors and proprietors also of
three Arabic journals; the _Jenan_, a Monthly Literary Magazine,
illustrated by wood-cuts made by a native artist, and having a
circulation of about 1500; the _Jenneh_, a semi-weekly newspaper
published Tuesday and Friday; and the _Jeneineh_, published Monday,
Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. There is not a more industrious man in
Syria than Mr. Bistany, and he is doing a great work in the
enlightenment of his countrymen.

Raheel's home is one of affection, decorum, and Christian refinement,
and she has fulfilled the highest hopes and prayers of her devoted
foster mother, in discharging the duties of mother, neighbor, church
member, and friend. May every missionary woman be rewarded in seeing
such fruits of her labors!

In January, 1866, Sarah, one of Raheel's daughters, named after Mrs.
Sarah L. Smith, was attacked by typhoid pneumonia. From the first she
was deeply impressed on the subject of religion, and in deep concern
about her soul. She sent for me, and I found her in a very hopeful state
of mind. Day after day I called and conversed and prayed with her, and
her views of her need of Christ were most clear and comforting, and she
wished her testimony to His love to be known among all her young
companions. Her friends from the school gathered at her request to see
her, and she urged them to come to Christ, and several who have since
united with the Church traced their first awakening to her words on her
death-bed.

One day Sarah said to me, "How thankful I am for this sickness! It has
been the voice of God to my soul! I have given myself to Jesus forever!
I have been a great sinner, and I have been thinking about my sins, and
my need of a Saviour, and I am resolved to live for Him hereafter." On
her father's coming into the room, she said in English, "Papa, I am so
happy that the Lord sent this sickness upon me. You cannot tell how I
thank him for it."

After a season spent in prayer, I urged her, on leaving, to cast herself
entirely on the Saviour of sinners, before another hour should pass. The
next day as I entered the room, she said, "I am at peace now. I _did_
cast myself on Jesus and He received me. I know His blood has washed my
sins away." She had expressed some fear that she might not be able to
live a consistent Christian life should she recover, "but," said she, "I
could trust in Christ to sustain me." After a few words of counsel and
prayer, and reading a portion of Scripture, she exclaimed, "It is all
one now, whether I die or live. I am ready to go or stay. The Lord knows
best."

At the last interview between her and her father, she expressed her
determination to make the Bible henceforth her study and guide, and
requested him to read the 14th chapter of John, which seemed to give her
great comfort. Soon after that she ceased to recognize her friends, and
on Monday night, January 5, she gently fell asleep. I was summoned to
the house at 2 A.M. by a young man who said, "She is much
worse, hasten." On reaching the house I met Rufka, teacher of the
Seminary, who exclaimed, "She is gone, she is gone." Entering the mukod
room, I found all the family assembled. There were no shrieks and
screams and loud wailings, as is the universal custom in this land. All
were seated, and the father, Abû Selim, was reading that chapter which
Sarah had asked him to read. I then led the family in prayer, and all
were much comforted. She had lived a blameless life, beloved by all who
knew her, and had been a faithful and exemplary daughter and sister, but
her only trust at the last was in her Saviour. She saw in her past life
only sin, and hoped for salvation in the blood of Christ alone. The
funeral was attended by a great concourse of people of all sects, and
the Protestant chapel was crowded.




CHAPTER XI.

HUMS.


The city of Hums, the ancient Emessa, is situated about one mile east of
the river Orontes, and about half way between Aleppo and Damascus. It is
in the midst of a vast and fertile plain, extending to Palmyra on the
east, and to the Orontes on the west. With the exception of a few
mud-built villages along the east and near the city, there is no settled
population between Hums and Palmyra. The wild roving Bedawin sweep the
vast plains in every direction, and only a few years ago, the great
gates of Hums were frequently closed at midday to prevent the incursion
of these rough robbers of the desert. On the west of the city are
beautiful gardens and orchards of cherry, walnut, apricot, plum, apple,
peach, olive, pomegranate, fig and pear trees, and rich vineyards cover
the fields on the south. It is a clean and compact town of about 25,000
inhabitants, of whom 7000 are Greek Christians, 3000 Jacobites, and the
rest Mohammedans. The houses are built of sun-dried bricks and black
basaltic rock, and the streets are beautifully paved with small square
blocks of the same rock, giving it a neat and clean appearance. There
are few windows on the street; the houses are one story high, with
diminutive doors, not more than four feet high; and the low dull walls
stretching along the streets, give the city a dismal and monotonous
appearance. The reason of building the doors so _low_, is to prevent the
quartering of Turkish government horsemen on their families, as well as
to prevent the Bedawin Arabs from plundering them. On the southwest
corner of the city stands an ancient castle in ruins, built on an
artificial mound of earth of colossal size, which was once faced with
square blocks of black trap rock, but this facing has been all stripped
off to build the modern city.

The people are simple and country-like in dress and manners, and the
most of them have a cow-yard within the courts of their houses, thus
combining the pastoral with the citizen life. The majority of the Greeks
are silk-weavers and shoemakers, weaving girdles, scarfs and robes for
different parts of Syria and Egypt, and supplying the Bedawin and the
Nusairy villagers with coarse red-leather boots and shoes.

Hums early became the seat of a Christian Church, and in the reign of
Diocletian, its bishop, Silvanus, suffered martyrdom. In 636
A.D., it was captured by the Saracens, (or "Sherakîyeen,"
"Easterns," as the Arab Moslems were called,) and although occupied for
a time by the Crusaders, it has continued a Moslem city, under
Mohammedan rule. The Greek population have been oppressed and ground to
the very dust by their Moslem neighbors and rulers, and their women have
been driven for protection into a seclusion and degradation similar to
that of the Moslem hareems.

The Rev. D.M. Wilson, a missionary of the A.B.C.F.M., took up his
residence in Hums in October 1855, and remained until obliged to leave
by the civil war which raged in the country in 1860. Mr. and Mrs. Aiken
went to Hums in April, 1856, but Mrs. Aiken died June 20, after having
given promise of rare usefulness among the women of Syria.

After Mr. Wilson left Hums, a faithful native helper, Sulleba Jerwan,
was sent to preach in Hums. His wife, Luciya Shekkoor, had been trained
in the family of Rev. W. Bird in Deir el Komr, and was a devoted and
excellent laborer on behalf of the women of Hums. In October, 1862, one
of the more enlightened men among the Greeks was taken ill, and sent for
Pastor Sulleba to come and make him a religious visit. He went, and
found quite a company of relatives and friends present. The sick man
asked him to read from the Word of God, and among the passages selected,
was that containing the Ten Commandments. While he was reading the
_Second_ Commandment, the _wife_ of the sick man exclaimed, "Is that the
Word of God? If it is, read it again." He did so, when she arose and
tore down a wooden painted picture of a saint, which had been hung at
the head of the bed, declaring that henceforth there should be no idol
worship in that house. Then taking a knife, she scraped the paint from
the picture, and took it to the kitchen to serve as the cover to a
saucepan! This was done with the approbation of all present. The case
was the more remarkable, as it was one of the first cases in Syria in
which a woman has taken such a decided stand against picture-worship and
saint-worship, in advance of the rest of the family.

In the year 1863, before the ordination of Pastor Sulleba, there being
no Protestant properly qualified to perform the marriage ceremony in
Hums, I went to that city to marry two of the Protestant young men. It
was the first time a Protestant marriage had ever taken place in Hums,
and great interest was felt in the ceremony. It is the custom among the
other sects to _pronounce_ the bride and groom husband and wife, neither
giving an opportunity to spectators to object, nor asking the girl if
she is willing to marry the man. The girl is oftentimes not consulted,
but simply told she is to marry such a man. If it pleases her, well and
good. If not, there is no remedy. The Greek Church gives no liberty in
this respect, although the priest takes it for granted that the friends
have satisfied both bride and groom with regard to the desirableness of
the match. If they are not satisfied, the form of the ceremony gives
neither of them the right of refusal.

The two young men, Ibrahim and Yunis, called upon me soon after my
arrival, to make arrangements for the marriage. I read them the form of
the marriage ceremony and they expressed their approval, but said it
would be necessary to give the brides very careful instructions as to
how and when to answer, lest they say yes when they should say _no_, and
_no_ when they wished to say _yes_! I asked them to accompany me to the
houses of the girls, that I might give them the necessary directions.
They at once protested that this would not be allowed. They had never
called at the brides' houses when the girls were present, and it would
be a grievous breach of decorum for them to go even with me. So certain
of the male relatives of the girls were sent for to accompany me, and I
went to their houses. On entering the house of the first one, it was
only after long and elaborate argument and diplomatic management, that
we could induce the bride to come in from the other room and meet me. At
length she came, with her face partially veiled, and attended by several
married women, her relatives.

They soon began to ply me with questions. "Do you have the communion
before the ceremony?" "No." "Do you use the "Ikleel" or crown, in the
service?" "No, we sometimes use the ring." Said one, "I hear that you
ask the girl if she is willing to take this man to be her husband."
"Certainly we do." "Well, if that rule had been followed in my day, I
know of _one_ woman who would have said _no_; but they do not give us
Greek women the chance."

I then explained to them that the bride must stand beside the
bridegroom, and when I asked her if she knew of any lawful reason why
she should _not_ marry this man, Ibrahîm, she should say _No_,--and when
I asked her if she took him to be her lawful and wedded husband, she
must answer _Yes_. Some of the women were under great apprehension that
she might answer No in the wrong place; so I repeated it over and over
again until the girl was sure she should not make a mistake. The woman
above alluded to now said, "I would have said No in the _right_ place,
if I had been allowed to do it!" I then went to the house of the other
bride and gave her similar instructions. The surprise of the women who
came in from the neighborhood, that the girl should have the right to
say yes or no, was most amusing and suggestive. That one thing seemed to
give them new ideas of the dignity and honor of woman under the Gospel.
Marriage in the East is so generally a matter of bargain and sale, or of
parental convenience and profit, or of absolute compulsion, that young
women have little idea of exercising their own taste or judgment in the
choice of a husband.

This was new doctrine for the city of Heliogabalus, and, as was to be
expected, the news soon spread through the town that the next evening a
marriage ceremony was to be performed by the Protestant minister, in
which the bride was to have the privilege of refusing the man if she
wished. And, what was even more outrageous to Hums ideas of propriety,
it was rumored that the brides were to walk home from the Church _in
company with their husbands_! This was too much, and certain of the
young Humsites, who feared the effect of conferring such unheard-of
rights and privileges on women, leagued together to mob the brides and
grooms if such a course were attempted. We heard of the threat and made
ample preparations to protect Protestant women's rights.

The evening came, and with it such a crowd of men, women and children,
as had never assembled in that house before. The houses of Hums are
built around a square area into which all the rooms open, and the open
space or court of the mission-house was very large. Before the brides
arrived, the entire court, the church and the schoolroom, were packed
with a noisy and almost riotous throng. Men, women and children were
laughing and talking, shouting and screaming to one another, and
discussing the extraordinary innovation on Hums customs about to be
enacted. Soon the brides arrived, accompanied by a veiled and sheeted
crowd of women, all carrying candles and singing as they entered the
house. We took them into the study of the native preacher Sulleba, and
after a reasonable delay, we forced a way for them through the crowd
into the large square room, then used as a church. My brother and myself
finally succeeded in placing them in a proper position in front of the
pulpit, and then we waited until Asaad and Michaiel and Yusef and Nasif
had enforced a tolerable stillness. It should be said that silence and
good order are almost unknown in the Oriental churches. Men are walking
about and talking, and even laughing, while the priests are "performing"
the service, and they are much impressed by the quiet and decorum of
Protestant worship.

The two brides were closely veiled so that I could not distinguish the
one from the other. Ibrahim was slender and tall, at least six feet
three, and Yunis was short and corpulent. So likewise, one of the brides
was very tall, and the other even shorter than Yunis. As we could not
see the brides' faces, we arranged them according to symmetry and
apparent propriety, placing the tall bride by the tall groom, and the
two short ones together. After the introductory prayer, I proceeded to
deliver a somewhat full and practical address on the nature of marriage,
and the duties and relations of husband and wife, as is our custom in
Syria, not only for the instruction of the newly married pair, but for
the good of the community. No Methodist exhorter ever evoked more hearty
responses, than did this address, from the Hums populace. "That is
true." "That is news in _this_ city." "Praise to God." _Mashallah!_ A
woman exclaimed on hearing of the duties of husband to wife, "Praise to
God, women are something after all!" I then turned to the two pairs, and
commenced asking Ibrahim the usual question, "Do you" (etc., etc.,) when
a woman screamed out, "Stop, stop, Khowadji, you have got the wrong
bride by that man. He is to marry the short girl!" Then followed an
explosion of laughter, and during the confusion we adjusted the matter
satisfactorily. A Moslem Effendi who was present remarked after
listening to the service throughout, "that is the most sensible way of
getting married that I ever heard of."

After the ceremony, we sent the newly married pairs to the study to
await the dispersion of the multitude, before going into the street. But
human curiosity was too great. None would leave until they saw the
extraordinary sight of a bride and groom walking home together. So we
prepared our lanterns and huge canes, and taking several of the native
brethren, my brother and myself walked home first with Ibrahim and wife,
and then with Yunis and his wife. We walked on either side of them, and
the riotous rabble, seeing that they could not reach the bride and
groom, without first demolishing two tall Khowadjis with heavy canes,
contented themselves with coarse jokes and contemptuous laughter.

This was nine years ago, and on a recent visit to Hums, the two brides
and their husbands met me at the door of the church on Sunday, to show
me their children. Since that time numerous Protestant weddings have
taken place in Hums, and a new order of things is beginning to dawn upon
that people.

The present native pastor, the Rev. Yusef Bedr, was installed in June,
1872. His wife Leila, is a graduate of the Beirût Female Seminary, and
has been for several years a teacher. Her father died in January, 1871,
in the hospital of the Beirût College, and her widowed mother, Im
Mishrik, has gone to labor in Hums as a Bible Woman. When her father was
dying, I went to see him. Noticing his emaciated appearance, I said,
"Are you very ill, Abû Mishrik?" "No my friend, _I_ am not ill. My body
is ill; and wasting away but _I_ am well. I am happy. I cannot describe
my joy. I have no desire to return to health again. If you would fill my
hands with bags of gold, and send me back to Abeih in perfect health, to
meet my family again, I would not accept the offer, in the place of what
I _know_ is before me. I am going to see Christ! I see Him now. I know
He has borne my sins, and I have nothing now to fear. It would comfort
me to see some of my friends again, and especially Mr. Calhoun, whom I
love; but what are my friends compared with Christ, whom I am going so
soon to see?" After prayer, I bade him good bye, and a few hours after,
he passed peacefully away.

The teacher of the Girls' School in Hums, is Belinda, also a former
pupil of the Beirût Seminary. Her brother-in-law, Ishoc, is the faithful
colporteur, who has labored so earnestly for many years in the work of
the Gospel in Syria. His grandfather was a highway robber, who was
arrested by the Pasha, after having committed more than twenty murders.
When led out to the gallows, the Pasha offered him office as district
governor, if he would turn Moslem. The old murderer refused, saying that
he had not much religion, but he would not give up the Greek Church! So
he was hung, and the Greeks regarded him as a martyr to the faith!
Ishoc's father was as bad as the grandfather, and trained Ishoc to the
society of dancing girls and strolling minstrels. When Ishoc became a
Protestant, the father took down his sword to cut off his head, but his
mother interceded and saved his life. Afterwards his father one day
asked him if it was possible that a murderer, son of a murderer, could
be saved. He read the gospel to him, prayed with him, and at length the
wicked father was melted to contrition and tears. He died a true
Christian, and the widowed mother is now living with Ishoc in Beirût.
Belinda has a good school, and the wealthiest families of the Greeks
have placed their daughters under her care.




CHAPTER XII.

MIRIAM THE ALEPPINE.


The city of Aleppo was occupied as a Station of the Syria Mission for
many years, until finally in 1855 it was left to the Turkish-speaking
missionaries of the Central Turkey Mission. It is one of the most
difficult fields of labor in Turkey, but has not been unfruitful of
genuine instances of saving faith in Christ. Among them is the case of
Miriam Nahass, (or Mary Coppersmith,) now Miriam Sarkees of Beirût.

From a letter published in the Youth's Dayspring at the time, I have
gathered the following facts:

In 1853 and 1854 the Missionaries in Aleppo, Messrs. Ford and Eddy,
opened a small private school for girls, the teacher of which was Miriam
Nahass. When the Missionaries first came to Aleppo, her father professed
to be a Protestant, and on this account suffered not a little
persecution from the Greek Catholic priests. At times he was on the
point of starvation, as the people were forbidden to buy of him or sell
to him. One day he brought his little daughter Miriam to the
missionaries, and asked them to take her and instruct her in all that is
good, which they gladly undertook, and her gentle pleasant ways soon won
their love.

Her mother was a superstitious woman, who hated the missionaries, and
could not bear to have her daughter stay with them. She used for a long
time to come almost daily to their house and bitterly complain against
them and against her husband for robbing her of her daughter. She would
rave at times in the wildest passion, and sometimes she would weep as if
broken-hearted; not because she loved her child so much, but because she
did not like to have her neighbors say to her, "Ah! You have let your
child become a Protestant!"

It may well be supposed that this was very annoying to the missionary
who had her in special charge, and so it was; but he found some profit
in it. He was just then learning to speak the language, and this woman
by her daily talk, taught him a kind of Arabic, and a use of it, not to
be obtained from grammars and dictionaries. He traced much of his ready
command of the language to having been compelled to listen so often to
the wearisome harangues of Miriam's mother. Sometimes the father would
be overcome by the mother's entreaties and would take away the girl, but
after awhile he would bring her back again, to the great joy of those
who feared they had lost her altogether. This state of things continued
two or three years, while Miriam's mind was daily improving and her
character unfolding, and hopes were often entertained that the Spirit of
God was carrying on a work of grace in her soul.

One day her father came to the missionary, and asked him to loan him
several thousand piastres (a thousand piastres is $40,) with which he
might set up business. This was of course refused, when he went away
greatly enraged. He soon returned and took away his daughter, saying
that Protestantism did not pay what it cost. It had cost him the loss of
property and reputation; it had cost him the peace of his household and
the presence of his little girl, and it did not bring in to him in
return even the loan of a few piastres, and he would try it no longer.
Prayer continued to be offered without ceasing for Miriam, thus taken
back to an irreligious home; and though the missionaries heard of her
return and her father's return to the corrupt Greek Catholic Church, and
of the exultation of the mother over the attainment of her wishes, yet
they did not cease to hope that God would one day bring her back and
make her a lamb of His fold.

An Arab young woman, Melita, trained in the family of Mrs. Whiting in
Beirût, was sent to Aleppo about this time to open a girls' school
there. The Greek Catholic priests then thought to establish a similar
school of their own sect to prevent their children from attending that
of the Protestants. They secured Miriam as their teacher. As she went
from her home to the school and back again, she used sometimes to run
into the missionary's house by stealth, and assure him that her heart
was still with him, and her faith unchanged. The school continued a few
weeks, but the priests having failed to pay anything towards its
support, her father would let her teach no more. Perhaps two years
passed thus, with but little being seen of Miriam, but she was not
forgotten at the throne of grace.

The teacher from Beirût having returned to her home, it was proposed to
Miriam's father that she should teach in the Protestant school. Quite
unexpectedly he consented, with the understanding that she was to spend
every evening at home. At first, little was said to her on the subject
of religion; soon she sought religious conversation herself, and brought
questions and different passages of Scripture to be explained. After
about a month, having previously conversed with the missionary about her
duty, when her father came for her at night, she told him that she did
not want to go home with him, but to stay where she was. She ought to
obey God rather than her parents. They had made her act the part of a
hypocrite long enough; to pretend to be a Catholic when she was a
Protestant at heart, and they knew that she was. Her father promised
that everything should be according to her wishes, and then she returned
with him.

Two or three days passed away and nothing was seen or heard of Miriam. A
servant was then sent to her father's house to inquire if she was sick,
and he was rudely thrust away from the door. The missionary felt
constrained to interfere, that Miriam might at least have the
opportunity of declaring openly her preference. According to the laws of
the Turkish government, the father had no right to keep her at her age,
against her will, and it was necessary that she have an opportunity to
choose with whom she wished to live. The matter was represented to the
American Consul, who requested the father to appear before him with his
daughter. When the officer came to his house, he found that the father
had locked the door and gone away with the key. From an upper window,
however, Miriam saw him and told him that she was shut up there a
prisoner, not knowing what might be done with her, and she begged for
assistance. She had prepared a little note for the missionary, telling
of her attachment to Christ's cause, and closing with the last two
verses of the eighth chapter of Romans, "For I am persuaded, that
neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor
things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other
creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord." The janizary proposed to her to try if she could
not get out upon the roof of the next house, and descend through it to
the street, which she successfully accomplished, and was soon joyfully
on her way to a place of protection in the Consulate.

Miriam, after staying three days at the Consul's house, returned to that
of the missionary. Her parents tried every means to induce her to
return. They promised and threatened and wept, but though greatly moved
at times in her feelings, she remained firm to her purpose. They tried
to induce her to go home for a single night only, but she knew them too
well to trust herself in their hands. Her mother had artfully arranged
to meet her at the house of a friend; but her brother came, a little
before the time, to warn her that a plan was laid to meet her at this
house with a company of priests who were all ready to marry her forcibly
to a man whom she knew nothing about, as is often done in this country.
Miriam thus gave up father and mother, brothers and sisters, for the
sake of Christ and his gospel.

In the year 1855 Mr. Ford removed to Beirût, and Miriam accompanied him.
She made a public profession of her faith in Christ in 1856, and was
married in 1858 to Mr. Ibrahim Sarkees, foreman and principal proof
reader of the American Mission Press. Her father has since removed to
Beirût, and all of the family have become entirely reconciled to her
being a Protestant. Her brother Habibs is a frequent attendant on Divine
service, and regards himself as a Protestant.

Miriam is now deeply interested in Christian work, and the weekly
meetings of the Native Women's Missionary Society are held at her house.
The Protestant women agree either to attend this Sewing Society, or pay
a piastre a week in case of their absence.

I close this chapter with the mention of Werdeh, [Rose,] daughter of the
celebrated Arabic poet Nasif el Yazijy, who aided Dr. Eli Smith in the
translation of the Bible into Arabic. She is now a member of the
Evangelical Church in Beirût. She herself has written several poems of
rare merit; one an elegy upon the death of Dr. Smith; another expressing
grateful thanks to Dr. Van Dyck for attending her sick brother. Only
this can be introduced here, a poem lamenting the death of Sarah
Huntington Bistany, daughter of Raheel, who died in January, 1866.
Sarah's father and her own father, Sheikh Nasif, had been for years on
the most intimate terms, and the daughters were like sisters. The
account of Sarah's death will be found in another part of this volume.

    Oh sad separation! Have you left among mortals,
    An eye without tears, hot and burning with sorrow?
    Have you left on this earth a heart without anguish,
    Or a soul unharrowed with grief and emotion?
    Thou hast plucked off a flower from our beautiful garden,
    Which shall shine like the stars in the gardens celestial.
    Wo is me! I have lost a fair branch of the willow
    Broken ruthlessly off. And what heart is _not_ broken?
        Thou hast gone, but from me thou wilt never be absent.
        Thy person will live to my sight and my hearing.
    Tears of blood will be shed by fair maids thy companions,
    Thy grave will be watered by tears thickly falling.
    Thou wert the fair jewel of Syrian maidens,
    Far purer and fairer than pearls of the ocean.
    Where now is thy knowledge of language and science?
    This sad separation has left to us nothing.
        Ah, wo to the heart of fond father and mother,
        No sleep,--naught but anguish and watching in sorrow
        Thou art clad in white robes in the gardens of glory.
        We are clad in the black robe of sorrow and mourning
    Oh grave, yield thy honors to our pure lovely maiden,
    Who now to thy gloomy abode is descending!
        Our Sarah departed, with no word of farewell,
        Will she ever return with a fond word of greeting?
    Oh deep sleep of death, that knows no awaking!
    Oh absence that knows no thought of returning!
        If she never comes back to us here in our sorrow,
        We shall go to her soon. 'Twill be but to-morrow




CHAPTER XIII.

MODERN SYRIAN VIEWS WITH REGARD TO FEMALE EDUCATION.


In the year 1847, a Literary Society was formed in Beirût, through the
influence of Drs. Thomson, Eli Smith, Van Dyck, De Forest and Mr.
Whiting, which continued in operation for about six years, and numbered
among its members the leading men of all the various native communities.
Important papers were read on various scientific and social subjects.
The missionaries had been laboring for years to create an enlightened
public sentiment on the subject of female education, contending against
social prejudices, profound ignorance, ecclesiastical tyranny and
selfish opposition, and at length the fruit of their labors began to
appear. In the following articles may be seen something of the views of
the better class of Syrians. The first was read before the Beirût
Literary Society, Dec. 14, 1849, by Mr. Butrus Bistany, who, as stated
above, married Raheel, and is now the head of a flourishing Academy in
Beirût, and editor of three Arabic journals. I have translated only the
salient points of this long and able paper:--

We have already spoken of woman in barbarous lands. The Syrian women,
although better off in some respects than the women of barbarous
nations, are still in the deepest need of education and elevation,
since they stand in a position midway between the barbarous and the
civilized. How few of the hundreds of thousands of women in Syria know
how to read! How few are the schools ever established here for teaching
women! Any one who denies the degradation and ignorance of Syrian women,
would deny the existence of the noonday sun. Do not men shun even an
allusion to women, and if obliged to speak of them, do they not
accompany the remark with "a jellak Allah," as if they were speaking of
a brute beast, or some filthy object? Are they not treated among us very
much as among the barbarians? To what do they pay the most attention? Is
it not to ornament and dress, and refining about styles of tatooing with
the "henna" and "kohl?" What do they know about the training of
children, domestic economy and neatness of person, and the care of the
sick? How many abominable superstitions do they follow, although
forbidden by their own religions? Are not the journals and diaries of
travellers full of descriptions of the state of our women? Does not
every one, familiar with the state of society and the family among us,
know all these things, and mourn over them, and demand a reform? Would
that I might awaken among the women the desire to learn, that thus they
might be worthy of higher honor and esteem!

"Woman should be instructed in _religion_. This is one of her highest
rights and privileges and her bounden duty.

"She should be taught in her own vernacular tongue, so as to be able to
express herself correctly, and use pure language. Woman should learn to
_write_.

"She should be taught to _read_. How is it possible for woman to
remember all her duties, religious and secular, through mere oral
instruction? But a written book, is a teacher always with her, and in
every place and circumstance. It addresses her without a voice, rebukes
her without fear or shame, answers without sullenness and complaint. She
consults it when she wishes, without anxiety and embarrassment, and
banishes it if not faithful or satisfactory, or even burns it without
crime!

"Why forbid woman the use of the only means she can have of sending her
views and feelings where the voice cannot reach? _Now_ when a woman
wishes to write a letter, she must go, closely veiled to the street, and
hire a professional scribe to write for her, a letter which she cannot
read, and which may utterly misrepresent her!

"Woman should also have instruction in the _training of children_. The
right training of children is not a natural instinct. It is an art, and
a lost art among us. It must be learned from the experience and
observation of those who have lived before us; and where do we now find
the woman who knows how to give proper care to the bodies and souls of
her children?"

Mr. Bistany then speaks of the importance of teaching woman domestic
economy, sewing, cooking, and the care of the sick, as well as
geography, arithmetic, and history, giving as reasons for the foregoing
remarks, that the education of woman will benefit herself, her husband,
her children and her country.

"How can she be an intelligent wife, a kind companion, a wise
counsellor, a faithful spouse, aiding her husband, lightening his
sufferings, training his children, and caring for his home, without
education? Without education, her taste is corrupt. She will seek only
outward ornament, and dress, and painting, as if unsatisfied with her
Creator's work; becoming a mere doll to be gazed at, or a trap to catch
the men. She will believe in countless superstitions, such as the Evil
Eye, the howling of dogs, the crying of foxes, etc., which are too well
known to need mention here. He who would examine this subject, should
consult that huge unwritten book, that famous volume called "Ketab en
Nissa," the "Book of the Women," a work which has no existence among
civilized women; or ask the old wives who have read it, and taught it in
their schools of superstition.

"Let him who would know the evils of neglecting to educate woman, look
at the ignorant, untaught woman in her language and dress, her conduct
at home and abroad; her notions, thoughts, and caprices on religion and
the world; her morals, inclinations and tastes; her house, her husband,
her children and acquaintances, when she rejoices or mourns, when sick
or well; and he will agree with us that an uneducated woman is a great
evil in the world, not to say the greatest evil possible to be imagined.

"In the reformation of a nation, then, the first step in the ladder is
the education of the women from their childhood. And those who neglect
the women and girls, and expect the elevation of the people by the mere
training of men and boys, are like one walking with one foot on the
earth, and the other in the clouds! They fail in accomplishing their
purpose and are barely able, by the utmost energy, to repair that which
woman has corrupted and destroyed. They build a wall, and woman tears
down a castle. They elevate boys one degree, and women depress them many
degrees.

"Perhaps I have now said enough on a subject never before written upon
by any of our ancestors of the sons of the Arabs. My object has been to
prove the importance of the education of woman, based on the maxim,
that, 'she who rocks the cradle with her right hand, moves the world
with her arm.'"

The next article I have translated from Mr. Bistany's Semi-monthly
Magazine, called the "Jenan," for July, 1870. It was written by an Arab
_woman_ of Aleppo, the Sitt Mariana Merrash. She writes with great power
and eloquence in the Arabic; and her brother, Francis Effendi, is one of
the most powerful writers of modern Syria. The paper of the Sitt Mariana
is long, and the introduction is most ornate and flowery. She writes on
the condition of woman among the Arabs, and refutes an ancient Arab
slander against women that they are cowardly and avaricious, because
they will not fight, and carefully hoard the household stores. She then
proceeds:--

"Wo to us Syrian women, if we do not know enough to distinguish and seek
after those qualities which will elevate and refine our minds, and give
breadth to our thoughts, and enable us to take a proper position in
society! We ought to attract sensible persons to us by the charm of our
cultivation and refinement, not by the mere phantom of beauty and
personal ornament. Into what gulfs of stupidity have we plunged! Do we
not know that the reign of beauty is short, and not enough of itself to
be worthy of regard? And even supposing that it were enough of itself,
in the public estimation, to make us attractive and desirable, do we not
know assuredly that after beauty has faded, we should fall at once into
a panic of anxiety and grief, since none would then look at us save with
the eye of contempt and ridicule, to say nothing of the vain attempts at
producing artificial beauty which certain foolish women make, as if they
were deaf to the insults and abuse heaped upon them? Shall we settle
down in indolence, and never once think of what is our highest advantage
and our chiefest good? Shall we forever run after gay attire and
ornament? Let us arise and run the race of mental culture and literary
adornment, and not listen for a moment to those who insult us by denying
the appropriateness of learning to women, and the capacity of women for
learning!

"Were we not made of the same clay as men? Even if we are of weaker
texture, we have the same susceptibility which they have to receive
impressions from what is taught to us. If it is good, we receive good as
readily as they; and if evil, then evil. Of what use is a crown of gold
on the brow of ignorance, and what loveliness is there in a jewelled
star on the neck of coarseness and brutality, or in a diamond necklace
over a heart of stupidity and ignorance? The great poet Mutanebbi has
given us an apothegm of great power on this very subject. He says:

    'Fukr el jehûl bela okl ila adab,
     Fukr el hamar bela ras ila resen,'

     'A senseless fool's need of instruction is like a headless donkey's
     need of a halter.'

"Let us then gird ourselves with wisdom and understanding, and robe
ourselves with true politeness and meekness, and be crowned with the
flowers of the 'jenan' (gardens) of knowledge (a pun on the name of the
magazine) now opened to us. Let us pluck the fruits of wisdom, lifting
up our heads in gratulation and true pride, and remain no longer in that
cowardice and avarice which were imputed to the women of the Arabs
before us!"

The next article I shall translate, is a paper on the Training of
Children in the East, by an Arab woman of Alexandria, Egypt, the Sitt
Wustina Mesirra, wife of Selim Effendi el Hamawy. It was printed in the
"Jenan" for Jan., 1871. After a long and eloquent poetical introduction,
this lady says:--

"Let us put off the robes of sloth and inertness, and put on the dress
of zeal and earnestness. We belong to the nineteenth century, which
exceeds all the ages of mankind in light and knowledge. Why shall we not
show to men the need of giving us the highest education, that we may at
the least contribute to _their_ happiness and advantage, and rightly
train our children and babes, not to say that we may pluck the fruits of
science, and the best knowledge for ourselves? Let them say to us, you
are weak and lacking in knowledge. I reply, by perseverance and
patience, we shall attain our object.

"Inasmuch as every one who reaches mature years, must pass by the road
of childhood and youth, everything pertaining to the period of childhood
becomes interesting and important, and I beg permission to say a word on
the training of children.

"When it pleased God to give us our first child, I determined to train
it according to the old approved modes which I had learned from my
family relatives and fellow-countrywomen. So I took the baby boy soon
after his birth, and put him in a narrow cradle provided with a tin tube
running down through a perforation in the little bed, binding and tying
him down, and wrapping and girding him about from his shoulders to his
heels, so that he was stiff and unmovable, excepting his head, which
rolled and wriggled about from right to left, with the rocking of the
cradle, this rocking being deemed necessary for the purpose of inducing
sleep and silence in the child. My lord and husband protested against
this treatment, proving to me the evil effects of this wrapping and
rocking, by many and weighty reasons, and even said that it would injure
the little ones for life, even if they survived the outrageous abuse
they were subjected to. I was astonished, and said, how can this be? We
were all trained and treated in this manner, and yet lived and grew up
in the best possible style. All our countrymen have been brought up in
this way, and none of them that I know of have ever been injured in the
way you suggest. He gave it up, and allowed me to go on in the old way,
until something happened which suddenly checked the babe in his progress
in health and happiness. He began to throw up his milk after nursing,
and to grow ill, giving signs of brain disease, and then my lord said,
you must now give up these customs and take my counsel. So, on the spur
of the moment, I accepted his advice and gave up the cradle. I unrolled
the bindings and wrappings and gave up myself to putting things in due
order. I clothed my child with garments adapted to his age and
circumstances, and to the time and place, and regulated the times of his
eating and play by day, and kept him awake as much as might be, so that
he and his parents could sleep at night. I soon saw a wonderful change
in his health and vigor, though I experienced no little trouble from my
efforts to wean him from the rocking of the cradle to which he was
accustomed. My favorable experience in this matter, led me to use my
influence to induce the daughters of my race, and my own family
relatives, to give up practices which are alike profitless, laborious
and injurious to health. My husband also aided me in getting books on
the training of children, and I studied the true system of training,
learning much of what is profitable to the mothers and fathers of my
country in preserving the health of their children in mind and body. The
binding and wrapping of babes in the cradle prevents their free and
natural movements, and the natural growth of the body, and injures their
health."

The next paper is from the pen of Khalil Effendi, editor of the Turkish
official journal of Beirût. It appeared in the columns of the "Hadikat
el Akhbar" of January, 1867. It represents the leading views of a large
class of the more enlightened Syrians with regard to education, and by
way of preface to the Effendi's remarks, I will make a brief historical
statement.

The Arab race were in ancient times celebrated for their schools of
learning, and although the arts and sciences taught in the great
University under the Khalifs of Baghdad, were chiefly drawn from Greece,
yet in poetry, logic and law the old Arab writers long held a proud
preëminence. But since the foundation of the present Ottoman Empire, the
Arabs have been under a foreign yoke, subject to every form of
oppression and wrong, and for generations hardly a poet worth the name
has appeared excepting Sheikh Nasif el Yazijy. Schools have been
discouraged, and learning, which migrated with the Arabs into Spain, has
never returned to its Eastern home. There are in every Moslem town and
city common schools, for every Moslem boy must be taught to read the
Koran; but with the exception of the Egyptian school of the Jamea el
Azhar in Cairo, there had not been up to 1867 for years even a high
school under native auspices, in the Arabic-speaking world. But what the
Turks have discouraged and the Arab Moslems have failed to do, is now
being done among the nominal Christian sects, and chiefly by foreign
educators. During the past thirty years a great work in educating the
Arab race in Syria has been done by the American Missionaries. Their
Seminary in Abeih, on Mount Lebanon, has trained multitudes of young
men, who are now scattered all over Syria and the East, and are making
their influence felt. Other schools have sprung up, and the result is,
that the young men and women of Syria are now talking about the "Asur el
Jedid," or "New Age of Syria," by which they mean an age of education
and light and advancement. The Arabic journal, above referred to, is
owned by the Turkish government, or rather subsidized by it, and its
editor is a talented young Greek of considerable poetic ability. It is
not often that he ventures to speak out boldly on such a theme as
education, but the pressure from the people upon the Governor-General
was so great at the time, that he gave permission to the editor to utter
his mind. I translate what he wrote, quite literally.

"There can be no doubt that the strength of every people and the source
of their happiness, rest upon the diffusion of knowledge among them.
Science has been in every age the foundation of wealth and national
progress, and since science and the arts are the forerunners of popular
civilization, and the good of the masses and their elevation in the
scale of intellectual and physical growth, therefore primary education
is the necessary preparation for all scientific progress. And in view of
this, the providence of our most exalted government has been turned to
the accomplishment of what has been done successfully in other lands, in
the multiplication of schools and colleges. And none can be ignorant of
the great progress of science and education, under His August Imperial
Excellency the Sultan, in Syria, where schools and printing presses have
multiplied, especially in the city of Beirût and its vicinity. For in
Beirût and Mount Lebanon, there are nearly two thousand male pupils,
large and small, in Boarding Schools, learning the Arabic branches and
foreign languages, and especially the French language, which is more
widely spread than any other. The most noted of these schools are the
French Lazarist School at Ain Tura in Lebanon, the American Seminary in
Abeih, the Jesuit School at Ghuzir, and the Greek School at Suk el
Ghurb, the most of the pupils being from the cities of Syria. Then there
are in Beirût the Greek School, the school of the Greek Catholic
Patriarch, the Native National College of Mr. Betrus el Bistany, and
there are also nearly a thousand _girls_ in the French Lazarist School,
the Prussian Protestant Deaconesses, the American Female Seminary and
Mrs. Thompson's British Syrian School, and other female schools. And
here we must mention that all of these schools, (excepting the Druze
Seminary,) are in the hands of _Christians_, and the Mohammedans of
Beirût have not a single school other than a common school, although in
Damascus and Tripoli they have High Schools which are most successful,
and many of their children in Beirût, are learning in Christian schools,
a fact which we take as a proof of their anxiety to attain useful
knowledge, although they have not as yet done aught to found schools of
their own. And though the placing of their children in Christian schools
is a proof of the love and fellowship between these two sects in this
glorious Imperial Age, we cannot but say that it would be far more
befitting to the honor and dignity of the Mussulmen to open schools for
their own children as the other sects are doing. And lately the Imperial
Governor of Syria has been urging them to this step, and they are now
planning the opening of such a school, which will be a means of great
benefit and glory to Islam."

The editor then states that the great want of Syria is a school where a
high _practical_ education can be given, and says:--

"We now publish the glad tidings to the sons of Syria that such a
College has just been opened in Syria, in the city of Beirût, by the
liberality of good men in America and England, and called the "Syria
Protestant College." It is to accommodate eventually one thousand
pupils, will have a large library and scientific apparatus, including a
telescope for viewing the stars, besides cabinets of Natural History,
Botany, Geology and Mineralogy. It will teach all Science and Art, Law
and Medicine, and we doubt not will meet the great want of our native
land."

Five years have passed since the above was written. Since that time the
number of pupils in the various schools in Beirût has trebled, and new
educational edifices of stately proportions are being built or are
already finished, in every part of the city. It may be safely said that
the finest structures in Beirût are those built for educational
purposes. The Latins have the Sisters of Charity building of immense
proportions, the Jesuit establishment, the Maronite schools, and the
French Sisters of Nazareth Seminary, which is to be one of the most
commanding edifices of the East. The Greeks have their large High
School, and the Papal-Greeks, or Greek-Catholics their lofty College.
The Moslems have built with funds drawn from the treasury of the
municipality, a magnificent building for their Reshidiyeh, while the
Protestants have the imposing edifices occupied by the American Female
Seminary, the British Syrian Schools, the Prussian Deaconesses
Institute, and most extensive and impressive of all, the new edifices of
the Syrian Protestant College at Ras Beirût.

As another illustration of public sentiment in Syria with regard to
evangelical work, I will translate another paragraph from this official
newspaper:

"We have been writing of the progress of the Press in Syria, and of
Arabic literature in Europe, but we have another fact to mention which
will no doubt fill the sons of our country with astonishment. You know
well the efforts which were put forth some time since in the printing of
the Old and New Testaments in various editions in the Arabic language,
in the Press of the American Mission in Beirût. This work is under the
direction of the distinguished scholar Dr. Van Dyck, who labored
assiduously in the completion of the translation of the Bible from the
Hebrew and Greek languages, which was commenced by the compassionated of
God, Dr. Eli Smith. They had printed from time to time large editions of
this Bible with great labor and expense, and sold them out, and then
were obliged to set up the types again for a new edition. But Dr. Van
Dyck thought it best, in order to find relief from the vast expenditure
of time and money necessary to reset the types, to prepare for every
page of the Bible a plate of copper, on whose face the letters should be
engraved. He therefore proceeded to New York, and undertook in
co-operation, with certain men skilled in the electrotyping art, to make
plates exactly corresponding to the pages of the Holy Book, and he has
sent to us a specimen page taken from the first plate of the vowelled
Testament, and on comparison with the page printed here, we find it an
exact copy of the Beirût edition which is printed in the same type with
our journal. We regard it as far clearer and better than the sheets
printed from movable types, and we congratulate Dr. Van Dyck, and wish
him all success in this enterprise."

Such statements as these derive their value from the fact that they
appear in the official paper of a Mohammedan government, and are a
testimony to the value of the Word of God.

The next article is a literal translation of an address delivered in
June, 1867, at the Annual Examination of the Beirût Female Seminary.
This Seminary was the first school in Syria for girls, which was
established on the paying principle, and in the year 1867 its income
from Syrian girls who paid their own board and tuition was about fifteen
hundred dollars in gold. It commenced with six pupils, and now has fifty
boarders. A crowded assembly attended the examination in the year above
mentioned, and at its close, several native gentlemen made addresses in
Arabic. The most remarkable address was made by a Greek Priest, Ghubrin
Jebara, the Archimandrite and agent of the Patriarch. When it is
remembered that in the days of Bird, Goodell and Fisk, the Greek clergy
were among the most bitter enemies of the missionaries, it will be seen
that this address indicates a great change in Syria. Turning to the
great congregation of three or four hundred people who were assembled in
the American Chapel, Greeks, Maronites, Mohammedans, Catholics and
Protestants, he said:

"You know my friends, into what a sad state our land and people had
fallen, morally, socially and intellectually. We had no schools, no
books, no means of instruction, when God in His Providence awakened the
zeal of good men far across two seas in distant America, of which many
of us had never heard, to leave home and friends and country to spend
their lives among us, yes even among such as I am. In the name of my
countrymen in Syria, I would this day thank these men, and those who
sent them. They have given us the Arabic Bible, numerous good books,
founded schools and seminaries, and trained our children and youth. But
for the American Missionaries the Word of God would have well nigh died
out of the Arabic language. But now through the labors of the lamented
Eli Smith and Dr. Van Dyck, they have given us a translation so pure, so
exact, so clear and so classical as to be acceptable to all classes and
all sects. But for their labors, education would still be where it was
centuries ago, and our children would still have continued to grow up
like wild beasts. Is there any one among us so bigoted, so ungrateful,
as not to appreciate these benevolent labors; so blind as not to see
their fruits? True, other European Missionaries have come here from
France and Italy, and we will not deny their good intentions. But what
have they brought us? And what have they taught? A little French. They
tell us how far Lyons is from Paris, and where Napoleon first lived,
and then they forbid the Word of God, and scatter broadcast the writings
of the accursed infidel Voltaire. But these Americans have come
thousands of miles, from a land than which there is no happier on earth,
to dwell among such as we are, yes, I repeat it, such as I am, to
translate God's word, to give us schools and good books, and a goodly
example, and I thank them for it. I thank them and all who are laboring
for us. I would thank Mr. Mikhaiel Araman, the Principal of this Female
Seminary, who is a son of our land, and Miss Rufka Gregory, the
Preceptress, who is a daughter of our own people, for the wonderful
progress we have witnessed during these three days among the daughters
of our own city and country, in the best kind of knowledge. Allah grant
prosperity to this Seminary, and all its teachers and pupils, peace and
happiness to all here present to-day and long life to our Sultan Abdul
Aziz."

As my object in giving these extracts from Arab writers and orators of
the present day, is to give some idea of the change going on in Syrian
public sentiment with regard to education, the dignity of woman, and the
abolition of superstitious social usages, I cannot do better than to
translate from the official journal of Daûd Pasha, late governor of Mt.
Lebanon, an article on the customs of the Lebanon population. This paper
was styled "Le Liban," and printed both in Arabic and French in July,
1867. It gives us a glimpse of the civilizing and Christianizing
influences which are at work in Syria.

"In Mount Lebanon there exist certain customs, which had their origin
in kindly feeling and sympathy, but have now passed beyond the limits of
propriety, and lost their original meaning. For example, when one falls
sick, his relatives and friends at once begin to pour in upon him. The
whole population of the town will come crowding into the house, each one
speaking to the sick a word of comfort and encouragement, and then
sitting down in the sick room. The poor invalid must respond to all
these salutations, and even be expected to rise in bed and bow to his
loving friends. Then the whole company must speak a word to the family,
to the wife and children, assuring them that the disease is but slight,
and the sick man will speedily recover. Then they crowd into the sick
room (and _such_ a crowd it is!) and the family and servants are kept
running to supply them with cigars and narghîlehs, by means of which
they fill the room with a dense and suffocating smoke. Meantime, they
talk all at once and in a loud voice, and the air soon becomes impure
and suffocating, and all these things as a matter of course injure the
sick man, and he becomes worse. Then the childish doctors of the town
are summoned, and in they come with grave faces, and a great show of
wisdom, and each one begins to recount the names of all the medicines he
has heard of, and describes their effects in working miraculous cures.
Then they enter into ignorant disputes on learned subjects, and talk of
the art of medicine of which they know nothing save what they have
learned by hearsay. One will insist that this medicine is the best,
because his father used it with great benefit just before he died, and
another will urge the claims of another medicine, of a directly opposite
character, and opinions will clash, and all in the presence of the sick
man, who thus becomes agitated and alarmed. He takes first one medicine
and then its opposite, and then he summons other doctors and consults
his relatives. Then all the old women of the neighborhood take him in
hand and set at naught all that the doctors have advised, give him
medicines of whose properties they are wholly ignorant, and thus they
hasten the final departure of their friend on his long last journey. And
if he should die, the whole population of the town assembles at once at
the house and the relatives, friends, and people from other villages
come thronging in. They fill the house with their screams and wails of
mourning. They recount the virtues of the departed with groans and
shrieks, and lamentations in measured stanzas. This all resembles the
customs of the old Greeks and Romans who hired male and female mourners
to do their weeping for them. After this, they proceed at once to bear
the corpse to the grave, without one thought as to proving whether there
be yet life remaining or not, not leaving it even twelve hours, and
never twenty-four hours. It is well known that this custom is most
brutal and perilous, for they may suppose a living man to be dead, and
bury him alive, as has, no doubt, often been done. Immediately after the
burial, the crowd return to the house of the deceased, where a sumptuous
table awaits them, and all the relatives, friends, and strangers eat
their fill. After eight days, the wailing, assembling, crowding, and
eating are repeated, for the consolation of the distracted relatives.
And these crowds and turbulent proceedings occur, not simply at Syrian
funerals, but also at marriages and births, in case the child born is a
_boy_, for the Syrians are fond of exhibiting their joy and sorrow. But
it should be remembered, that just as in civilized lands, all these
demonstrations of joy and sorrow are tempered by moderation and wisdom,
and subdued by silent acquiescence in the Divine will, so in uncivilized
lands, they are the occasion for giving the loose rein to passion and
tumult and violent emotion. How much in conformity with true faith in
God, and religious principle, is the quiet, well-ordered and moderate
course of procedure among civilized nations!

"So in former times, the man was everywhere the absolute tyrant of the
family. The wife was the slave, never to be seen by others. And if, in
conversation, it became necessary to mention her name, it would be by
saying this was done by my wife 'ajellak Allah.' But now, there is a
change, and woman is no longer so generally regarded as worthy of
contempt and abuse, and the progress being made in the emancipation and
elevation of woman, is one of the noblest and best proofs of the real
progress of Lebanon in the paths of morality and civilization."

This is the language of the official paper of the Lebanon government.
Yet how difficult to root out superstitious and injurious customs by
official utterances! At the very time that article was written, these
customs continued in full force. A woman in Abeih, whose husband died in
1866, refused to allow her house or her clothes to be washed for more
than a whole year afterward, just as though untidiness and personal
uncleanliness would honor her deceased husband!




CHAPTER XIV.

BEDAWIN ARABS.


There is one class of the Arab race, of which little or nothing has been
said in the preceding pages, for the simple reason that there is little
to be said of missionary work or progress among them. We refer to the
Bedawin Arabs. The true sons of Ishmael, boasting of their descent from
him, living a wild, free and independent life, rough, untutored and
warlike, plundering, robbing and murdering one another as a business;
roaming over the vast plains which extend from Aleppo to Baghdad, and
from Baghdad to Central Arabia, and bordering the outskirts of the more
settled parts of Syria and Palestine; ignorant of reading and writing,
and yet transacting extensive business in wool and live-stock with the
border towns and cities; nominally Mohammedans, and yet disobeying every
precept of Moslem faith and practice; subjects of the Ottoman Sultan,
and yet living in perpetual rebellion or coaxed by heavy bribes into
nominal submission; suffering untold hardships from their life of
constant exposure to winter storms and summer heats; without proper
food, clothing or shelter, and utterly destitute of medical aid and
relief, and yet despising the refinements of civilized life, and
regarding with contempt the man who will sleep under a roof; they
constitute a most ancient, attractive class of men, interesting to every
lover of his race, and especially to the Missionary of the Cross.

European missionaries can do little among them. To say nothing of the
rough, nomadic, unsettled and perilous life they lead, any European
would find himself so much an object of curiosity and suspicion among
them, and the peculiar Bedawin pronunciation of the Arabic so different
from the correct pronunciation, that he would be constantly embarrassed.
Native missionaries, on the other hand, can go among them freely, and if
provided with a supply of vaccine virus and simple medicines, can have
the most unrestrained access to them. During the last ten years, several
native colporteurs have been sent among the Bedawin, and lately the
Native Missionary Society in Beirût has sent out one of its teachers as
a missionary to the Arabs. There is little use in taking books among
them, as very few can make use of them. Mr. Arthington of Leeds,
England, has been making earnest efforts to induce the Bedawin to send
their children to schools in the towns, or allow schools to be opened
among their own camps. We have tried every means to induce their leading
Sheikhs to send their sons and daughters to Beirût for instruction, but
the Arabs all dread sending their children to any point within the
jurisdiction of the Turks, lest they be suddenly seized by the Turks as
hostages for the good behavior of their parents. The latter course,
_i.e._, sending teachers to live among them, to migrate with them and
teach their children as it were "on the wing," seems to be the one most
practicable, as soon as teachers can be trained. Until the Turkish
government shall compel the Bedawin to settle down in villages and till
the soil, there can be little done in the way of instructing them. And
when that step is taken, it is quite doubtful whether the Moslem
government will not send its Khoteebs or religious teachers, and compel
them all to embrace the religion of Islam. If that should be done,
Christian teachers will have but little opportunity of opening schools
among them.

One of the leading tribes of the Bedawin is the Anazy, who are more
numerous, powerful and wealthy than any other Kobileh of the Arabs.
Their principal Sheikh on the Damascus border is Mohammed ed Dûkhy, the
warlike and successful leader of ten thousand Arab horsemen, of the
Weled Ali. He is now an officer of the Turkish government, with a salary
of ten thousand dollars a year, employed to protect the great Haj or
Pilgrim Caravan, which goes annually from Damascus to Mecca. He
furnishes camels for the Haj, and a powerful escort of horsemen, and is
under bonds to keep the Arabs quiet.

In February, 1871, he came to Beirût on business, and was the guest of a
Maronite merchant, who brought him at our invitation to visit the Female
Seminary, the College and the Printing Press. After looking through the
Seminary, examining the various departments, and inquiring into the
course of study he turned to the pupils and said, "Our Bedawin girls
would learn as much in six months as you learn in two years." I told him
we should like to see the experiment tried, and that if he would send on
a dozen Bedawin girls, we would see that they had every opportunity for
improvement. He said, "Allah only knows the future. Who knows but it may
yet come to pass?" The Sheikh himself can neither read nor write, but
his wife, the Sitt Harba, or Lady Spear, who came from the vicinity of
Hamath, can read and write well, and she is said to be the only
Bedawîyeh woman who can write a letter. With this in view we prepared an
elegant copy of the Arabic Bible, enclosed in a waterproof case made by
the girls of the Seminary, and presented it to him at the Press. He
expressed great interest in it, and asked what the book contained. We
explained the contents, and he remarked, "I will have the Sitt Harba
read to me of Ibrahim, Khalil Allah, (the Friend of God), and Ismaeel,
the father of the Arabs, and Neby (prophet) Moosa, and Soleiman the
king, and Aieesa, (Jesus,) the son of Mary." The electrotype apparatus
deeply interested him, but when Mr. Hallock showed him the steam
cylinder press, rolling off the sheets with so great rapidity and
exactness, he stood back and remarked in the most deliberate manner,
"the man who made that press can conquer anything but death!" It seemed
some satisfaction to him that in the matter of _death_ the Bedawin was
on a level with the European.

From the Press, the Sheikh went to the Church, and after gazing around
on the pure white walls, remarked, "There is the Book, but I see no
pictures nor images. You worship only God here!" He was anxious to see
the _Tower Clock_, and although he had lost one arm, and the other was
nearly paralyzed by a musket shot in a recent fight in the desert, he
insisted on climbing up the long ladders to see the clock whose striking
he had heard at the other end of the city, and he gazed long and
admiringly at this beautiful piece of mechanism. On leaving us, he
renewedly thanked us for _The Book_, and the next day he left by
diligence coach for Damascus.

In the summer we sent, at Mr. Arthington's expense, a young man from the
Beirût Medical College, named Ali, as missionary to itinerate among the
Bedawin, with special instructions to persuade the Arabs if possible to
send their children to school. He remained a month or two among them, by
day and by night, sleeping by night outside the tents with his horse's
halter tied to his arms to prevent its being stolen, and spending the
evenings reading to the assembled crowd from the New Testament. He was
present as a spectator at a fight between Mohammed's men and the Ruella
Arabs east of the Sea of Galilee, in which the Ruella were defeated, but
Mohammed's son Faûr was wounded, and Ali attended him. The Sitt Harba
told Ali that a papist named Shwiry, in Damascus, had taken the Arabic
Bible from them! So Ali gave them another. This Bible-hating spirit of
the Papacy is the same the world over. How contemptible the spirit of a
man _professing_ the name of Christian, and yet willing to rob the only
woman among the Bedawin who can read, of the word of everlasting life!
The whole family of the Sheikh were interested in reading an illustrated
book for children of folio size, styled "Lilies of the Field," which we
printed in Beirût last year. When Ali set out on this journey, I gave
him a letter to the Sheikh, reminding him of his visit to Beirût, and
urging again upon him the sending of his children to school. The Sheikh
sent me the following reply, written by his wife, the Sitt Harba, and
sealed with his own signet ring. I value the letter highly as being
written by the only Bedawin woman able to write:

     To his excellency the most honored and esteemed, our revered
     Khowadja Henry Jessup, may his continuance be prolonged! Amen.

     After offering you the pearls of salutation, and the ornaments of
     pure odoriferous greeting, we would beg to inform you that your
     epistle reached us in the hand of Ali Effendi, and we perused it
     rejoicing in the information it contained about your health and
     prosperity. You remind us of the importance of sending our sons and
     daughters to be educated in your schools. Ali Effendi has urged us
     very strongly to this course; and has spent several weeks with us
     among the Arabs. He has read to the children from The Book, and
     tried to interest them in learning to read. He has also gone from
     tent to tent among our Bedawin, talking with them and urging upon
     them this great subject. He constantly read to them that which
     engaged their attention, and we aided him in urging it upon them.
     Inshullah (God grant) that there may soon be a school among the
     Arabs themselves. We Bedawin do not understand the language nor the
     ways of Europeans, and we should like to have one like Ali Effendi,
     who knows our way of talking and living, come to teach us and our
     children. We would also inform you that the book with pictures,
     which you sent to the Sitt Harba, has reached her, and she has
     read it with great pleasure, and asks of God to increase your good.
     She sends salams to you and to the Sitt, and all your family.

                    And may you live forever! Salam

                                                  MOHAMMED DUKHY.

     29 Jemady Akhar
     1289 of the Hegira

     "Postscript.--There has been a battle between us and the Ruella
     tribe, and the Ruellas ate a defeat, Ali Effendi was present and
     will give you the particulars."

At the date of this writing, Ali has been again to Mohammed's camp,
taking books and medicines, and has done his utmost to prepare the way
for opening schools among the Bedawin in their own camps. Ali has
brought another letter from Sitt Harba, in which she gives her views
with regard to the education of the Bedawin. I sent several written
questions to her in Arabic, to which she cheerfully gave replies. The
following is the substance of her answers:

I. The Bedawin Arabs ought to learn to read and write, in order to learn
religion, to increase in understanding, and to become acquainted with
the Koran. They profess to be Moslems, but in reality have no religion.

II. The reason why so few of the Bedawin know how to read, is because it
is out of their line of business. They prefer fighting, plundering, and
feeding flocks and herds. Reading and books are strange and unknown to
them.

III. If they wished to learn to read, the true time and place would be
in the winter, when they migrate to the East in the Jowf, where they
are quiet and uninterrupted by government tax-gatherers.

IV. I learned to read in the vicinity of Hums. My father brought for my
instruction a Khoteeb or Moslem teacher, who taught me reading. His name
was Sheikh Abdullah. The Sheikh Mohammed taught me writing.

V. The Bedawin esteem a boy better than a girl, because the boy may rise
to honor, but the girl has nothing to expect from her husband, and his
parents and relatives, but cursing and abuse.

VI. A man may marry four wives. If one of them ceases bearing children,
and she be of his family, he makes a covenant of fraternity with her,
and he supports her in his own camp, but she is regarded simply as a
sister. If she be of another family, he sends her home, and pays her
what her friends demand.

VII. The girls and women have no more religion than the boys and men.
They never pray nor fast, nor make the pilgrimage to Mecca. But the old
women repeat certain prayers, and visit the ziyaras, mazars, and welys,
and other holy places.

VIII. If teachers would come among us, who can live as we do, and dwell
in our camps, and travel with us to the desert, they could teach the
great part of our children to read, especially if they understood the
art of medicine.

Ali spent several weeks among them, sleeping in the camp, and attending
upon their sick. The camp was on the mountains east of the Sea of
Galilee. Fevers prevailed through the entire district from Tiberias to
Damascus, and Ali devoted himself faithfully to the care of the sick.
The Sheikh himself was ill with fever and ague, as were several members
of his family. One day Ali prepared an effervescing draught for him, and
when the acid and the alkali united, and the mixture effervesced, the
Bedawin seated in the great tent screamed and ran from the tent as if
the Ruellas were down upon them! What, said they, is this? He pours
water into water, and out come fire and smoke! The Sheikh himself was
afraid to drink it, so Ali took it himself, and finally, after
explaining the principle of the chemical process, he induced both the
Sheikh and the Sit Harba to drink the draught. On leaving the
encampment, the Sheikh gave Ali a guard, and three Turkish pounds (about
$14,) to pay for his medicines and medical services, saying, that as his
Bedawin were growing poor since they were forbidden to make raids on
other tribes, they could not pay for his services, and he would pay for
all. He offered to give him a goat skin bottle of semin (Arab butter)
and several sheep, but Ali was unable to carry either, and declined the
offer. Ali brought a specimen of Bedawin bread. It is black, coarse, and
mixed with ashes and sand. The Bedawin pound their wheat, and knead the
coarse gritty flour without sifting, and bake it on the heated earthen
ovens.

The Bedawin swarm with vermin. Their garments, their persons, their
tents and their mats are literally alive with the third plague of Egypt,
_lice_! Ali soon found himself completely overrun with them, and was
almost driven wild. The Sitt Harba urged him to try the Bedawin remedy
for cleansing his head. On inquiring what it was, he declared he would
rather have the disease than the remedy! After his return to his village
in Lebanon, he spent several days in ablutions and purifications before
venturing to bring me his report. The Sitt Harba gave him a collection
of the nursery rhymes which she and the Bedawin women sing to their
little brown babies, and some of them will be found in the "Children's
Chapter" of this volume. The Sheikh Mohammed, who can neither read nor
write, repeated to Ali the following Kosîdeh or Song, which he composed
in Arabic poetry, after his victory over Feisal, of the Ruella tribe, in
1866. The Ruellas had previously driven Mohammed's tribe from one of the
finest pasture regions in Howian, and Ed Dukhy regained it after a
desperate struggle.

    Oh fair and beautiful plain, oh rich green Bedawin pasture.
    We had left you, too often stained, with the blood of violent
        battle;
    Ah, dark disastrous day, when brother abandoned his brother,
    Though riding the fleetest of mares, and safe from pursuit of the
        foeman,
    He never once turned to inquire, though we tasted the cup of
        destruction.
    Oh fair and beautiful plain, we yesterday fought and regained thee!
    I praise and honor His name, who only the victory giveth!
    O, Feisal, we've meted to you your deserts in royal measure;
    With our spears so burning and sharp, we cut off the necks of your
        Arabs,
    O, Shepherd of Obaid, you fled deserting your pastures,
    Biting your finger in pain and regret for your sad disasters--
    Savage hyena, come forth, from your lair in the land of Jedaileh,
    Howl to your fellow-beasts, in the distant land of Butîna;
    Come and eat your fill of the dead in the Plain of Fada,
    O, fair and beautiful plain, you belong to the tribe of the victor;
    But Feisal is racked with pain, when he hears the battle story,
    Our right-handed spearmen have palsied his arm is its strength and
        power;
    A blow fell hard on his breast, from the hand of our Anazy warriors;
    Come now, ye who wish for peace, we are ready in honor to meet you!
    _Our_ wrongs are all avenged, and our arms are weary of battle.

The Arabic original of these lines breathes the true spirit of poetry,
and shows that the old poetic fire still burns in the desert. Feisal now
lives in the region adjacent to Mohammed Dûkhy, and they leave a space
of several miles between their camps to prevent trespass, and the danger
of re-opening the old blood-feud.

I would commend the Arabs of the Desert to the prayerful remembrance of
the Women of America. How the gospel is to reach them, is one of the
great problems of our day. Their women are sunken to the lowest depths
of physical and moral degradation. The extent of their religion is in
being able to swear Mohammedan oaths. "Their mouths are full of cursing
and bitterness; their feet are swift to shed blood; destruction and
misery are in their ways, and the _way of peace_ have they not known."
Although their hand is against every man, and every man's hand against
them, let them feel that there is one class of men who love them and
care for them with a disinterested love, and who seek their everlasting
welfare!




CHAPTER XV.

"WOMAN BETWEEN BARBARISM AND CIVILIZATION."


This is the title of an Arabic article in the "Jenan" for Sept. 1, 1872,
written by Frances Effendi Merrash, brother of the Sitt Mariana, whose
paper we have translated on a preceding page. It is evident that the
Effendi writes from the atmosphere of Aleppo. The more "polite" society
of that city is largely made up of that mongrel population, half French
and half Arab, which is styled "Levantine" and too often combines the
vices of both, with the virtues of neither. It will be seen that the
able author is combatting the worst form of French flippant
civilization, which has already found its way into many of the towns and
cities of the Orient. He says:--

"Inasmuch as woman constitutes a large portion of human kind, and an
essential element in society, as well as the leading member of the race
in respect to its perpetuation, it becomes necessary both to consider
and speak of her character and position although there are not wanting
those who are coarse enough and rude enough to declare woman a worthless
part of the creation.

"Woman possesses a nature remarkably impressible and susceptible to
influence, owing to the delicacy of her organization and the
peculiarities of her structure. Her proper culture therefore calls for
the greatest possible skill and care to protect her from those
corrupting influences to which she is by nature especially susceptible.
We should therefore neither leave her locked in the fetters of the
ancient barbarism and rudeness, nor leave her free to the uncontrollable
liberty of this modern civilization, for both these extremes bring her
into one common evil estate and both have one effect upon her.

"Have you not observed how the customs of ancient rude barbarism
corrupted the manners of woman and obliterated all those virtues and
excellencies for which she is especially designed by nature? It was
deemed most opprobrious for woman to learn to read and write, to say
nothing of other arts. It was thought indispensable to bind upon her
mouth the fetters of profound silence so that none ever heard her voice
but her own coarse husband, and the walls of the enclosure in which she
was kept imprisoned. She had no liberty of thought or action. Every
woman's thoughts were limited by the thoughts of her husband, and her
character was cast in the mould of his, whether that were good or bad.
And in addition to this, she always suffered from whatever of rudeness
there might be in her rough companion, who availed himself of his
superior brute physical strength as a weapon to overcome her moral
power. He scourged and cursed and despised her in every possible way,
when she was innocent of crime or error. As a result of this course,
her own self respect, and the feeling that she was abused and insulted
by her companion or partner, led her oftentimes to cast off all shame
and modesty, whenever a suitable opportunity presented itself. This grew
out of the fact that she no longer regarded herself as the companion of
her husband and the sharer of all his natural and moral rights, his joys
and sorrows, but she rather imagined herself his captive and bond slave.
She thus sank to the position of a slave-woman who is never allowed
peace or rest, and cares nothing for the training of her children or the
ordering of her house, since she looks upon herself as a stranger in a
home not her own, and we all know how difficult it is for a slave to
perform the duties of the free!

"On the other hand, have you not observed how the influence of modern
civilization is corrupting the nature of woman and making havoc with her
morals?

"There is nothing strange in this, for her delicate nature, when it had
escaped from the chains and imprisonment of the mildest barbarism, into
the open free arena of civilization, lost its reckoning, and wandered
hither and thither in bewilderment according to its own unrestrained
passions. Woman thus became like a feather, 'Borne on the tempest
wherever it blows, and driven about where no one knows.'

"Now since evil images and objects are far more numerous in this world
than those which are good, it becomes evident that the influence of evil
upon the mind of woman is stronger and more abiding than the influence
of the good, owing to this intense delicacy of texture in her mental
constitution. Let us suppose that one man and one woman were placed in a
position where they should only see evil deeds, or only good deeds: the
woman would leave that place either vastly worse than the man, or vastly
better. Now the moral misconduct of woman is far more detrimental to the
propagation of the race, than is the misconduct of man. It is therefore
better for the woman not to go to the extremes of the modern
civilization, whose evils are equal to, yes, and far surpass, its
benefits. Have you not noticed that the leaders of modern civilization
in our age, have imitated, if not surpassed, all the excesses of riot,
and lust and rapine, ever practiced under the barbarism of the ages of
antiquity? Do not the women of this age go lower in shamelessness than
the women of ancient times? Here we see them veiling their faces with
the flimsy gauze of artifice, and befouling the pure waters of life with
the turbulent stream of their own vanity. They pollute the purity of
real beauty by the foul arts of beautifying, and cry out in loud rude
voices in every assembly and gathering. They strut about in
vain-glorious conceit, and flaunt their gaudy apparel in indecent
boldness. They claim what does not belong to them and meddle with what
does not concern them. They do not blush to cloud the precious jewel of
modesty with the selfish airs of passion. Nothing is said which they do
not hear, nothing occurs which they do not see. They become bold,
unblushing and unwomanly.

"Such being the state of things, there can be no doubt that an excess of
this kind of civilization for woman amounts to about the same thing as
the excess of her rude barbarism in ancient times. The two extremes
meet. The dividing line between them then, that is, the middle course,
is the proper one for woman to take. To this middle course there must be
some natural and legitimate guide. This guide is a sound education, and
on this subject we propose at some future time to write, inasmuch as the
education of woman is one of the most important of subjects. Woman is
the one fountain from which is derived the life of man in its earliest
periods. She is the source of all training, and the root of character.
Have you not heard that she who rocks the cradle, moves the world?"

It is evident that the author of this paper has not been so happy as to
see the noblest type of a sanctified Christian civilization, such as can
be seen in the Christian homes of America and England, or even in the
truly Christian homes of Syria. Let us hope that the day is not far
distant, when even in Aleppo, a pure Christianity shall have taken the
place of that semi-barbaric system styled the papacy, which enthralls
the intellects and hearts of so many of the _nominal_ Christians of the
Orient, and when the enslaved inmates of the Moslem hareems shall be set
free, not to indulge in the license of a Parisian libertinism, but with
that liberty wherewith Christ makes His people free!


THE VALUE SET ON WOMAN'S LIFE IN SYRIA.

The free license allowed to men by the Koran in the beating of their
wives, has led the entire population of the East to set a low estimate
upon the life of woman. Until recently in Syria women were poisoned,
thrown down wells, beaten to death, or cast into the sea, and the
government made no inquisition into the matter. According to Mohammedan
law, a prosecution for murder must always be commenced by the friends of
the victim, and if they do not enter complaint, or furnish witnesses,
the murderer is not even arrested. And if he be convicted of the crime,
he is released on paying to the relatives of the victim the price of
blood, which is fixed at 13,000 piastres, or $520! A man may well "count
the cost" before committing murder. This constant compounding of
punishment has degraded the popular views of the value of human life, so
that formerly the murder of a woman was never punished. In March, 1856,
a Druze girl near B'hamdûn married a man of her own choice, instead of
marrying the man assigned to her by her family. She was waylaid by her
own brother and the rejected suitor, murdered and thrown into a well.

About a year after the massacres of 1860, while the European
Commissioners were still in Syria, and Lebanon was beginning to attain
something of its wonted quiet, several Turkish soldiers made an assault
upon a young Maronite girl from the village of Ain Kesûr, who was
carrying a jar of water to the workmen on the Deir el Komr road. Mr.
Calhoun was requested by the Relief Committee in Beirût to devote the
charity funds distributed in this part of Lebanon, to giving employment
to the needy in road-building. This girl was employed to supply the men
with water. The brutal soldiers attempted to gag her with a
handkerchief, in order to accomplish their design, but she was too
strong for them. The struggle was long and violent, but she finally
effected her escape, leaving on the road the fragments of the broken
jar, her shoes and shreds of calico which they had torn from her
clothing. Just at that moment Giurgius el Haddad, Mr. Calhoun's cook,
came up, and seeing the broken jar and the clothing, guessed what had
happened, and after finding the girl, and hearing her story, started in
pursuit of the soldiers to Ainab, whither they had gone, and where a
Turkish officer was stationed. He stated the case to the officer, and
received in reply a blow on his arm from a heavy cane. The case was
reported to the Turkish Colonel in Abeih, who summoned all parties and
ordered each of the soldiers to be beaten with forty lashes on the bare
back. But word had reached Col. Frazier, the British Commissioner, and
he came at once to Abeih in company with Omar Pasha, with order from
Evad, Pasha, to examine the case _de novo_. The result was that two of
the soldiers were condemned by military law to be shot, and were shot at
sunset June 5th, in front of the old palace just below Mr. Calhoun's
house. The event produced a profound impression, and Druzes and Moslems
began to feel that a woman's life and honor were after all of some
value.

In April, 1862, when Daûd Pasha was governor of Mt. Lebanon, a Druze,
named Hassan, murdered a Druze girl of his own village, supposing that
Daûd Pasha would not interfere with the time-honored custom of killing
girls! Much to his surprise, however, he was arrested, convicted and
hung, and the poor women of all sects in the mountain began to feel that
after all they had an equal right to life with the other sex.

In most parts of Syria to-day, the murder of women and girls is an act
so insignificant as hardly to deserve notice. Mt. Lebanon and vicinity
constitute an exception perhaps, but woman's right to life is one of
those rights which have not yet been fully guaranteed in the Turkish
Empire.

In October, 1862, the Arabic official newspaper in Beirût, contained a
letter from Hums which illustrates this fact. A fanatical wretch from
Hamath, one of the infamous Moslem saints, set up the claim that he had
received the power to cast out devils by divine inspiration. He found
credulous followers among the more ignorant, and went to Hums to
practice his diabolical trade. A poor woman had lost her reason through
excessive grief at the death of her son. The husband and others of her
relatives went to consult the new prophet. He refused to go and see her,
stating that he would not condescend to go to the devils, but the
devils must come to him. The poor woman was accordingly brought to him,
and left to await the opportune moment, when he could cast out the
devils, which he declared to be raving within her. After a few days, her
father called to inquire about her, and found her growing constantly
worse. The Hamathite told him that he must bring a gallon of liquid
pitch, to be used as a medicine, and the next day the devils would leave
her. The pitch was brought, and after the father had gone, the lying
prophet tied a cord around her feet, and drew her up to the ceiling, and
while she was thus suspended, thrust a red hot iron rod into one of her
eyes, and cauterized her body almost from head to foot! He then placed
the pitch on the floor under her head, and set it on fire until the body
was "burned to charcoal!" The next day the friends called, expecting to
find her restored to her right mind, when the wretch pointed them to the
blackened cinder. They exclaimed with horror and asked him the reason of
this bloody crime? He replied that on applying the test of burning
pitch, one of the devils had gone out of her, tearing out her right eye,
and when he forbade the rest from destroying the other eye, they fell
upon her and killed her! The body was buried, but the government took
not the slightest notice of the fact. The official journal in Beirût
simply warned the public against patronizing such a bloody impostor!




CHAPTER XVI.

OPINIONS OF PROTESTANT SYRIANS WITH REGARD TO THE WORK OF AMERICAN WOMEN
IN SYRIA.


The following letters have been addressed to me by prominent native
Syrian gentlemen, whose wives have been trained in the American Mission
Seminaries and families. They all write in English, and I give their own
language.

Mr. Butrus el Bistany, the husband of Raheel, writes me as follows:--


     Beirût, Oct. 23, 1872.

     "It would be superfluous to speak of the efforts of American
     Missionary ladies in training the females of Syria, and the good
     done by them.

     "The sainted Sarah L. Smith, who was one of the first among them,
     established the first Female School in Beirût.

     "Mrs. Whiting, also, who had no children of her own, trained five
     girls in her family, all of whom are still living.

     "Mrs. De Forest had a very interesting female school in her family,
     and the girls educated in that school are of the best of those
     educated by American ladies in Syria.

     "The obstacles in those times were very great, and the people
     believed that education is injurious to females. But these ladies
     obtained a few girls to educate gratuitously, and thus made a good
     impression on the minds of the people, and wrought a change in
     public opinion, so that year by year the people began to appreciate
     female education. And as we are now building on the foundation laid
     by those good ladies and reaping the fruit of their labors, we
     should pray to be imbued with the same spirit, and try as much as
     we can to follow their example, and carry on the work with the same
     spirit, zeal and wisdom as they did."

Mr. Naame Tabet, the husband of Miriam, who was educated by Dr. and Mrs.
De Forest, writes as follows:--


     Beirût, Oct. 21, 1872.

     "It affords me unfeigned gratification that you give me an
     opportunity of recording my impressions in regard to the advantages
     of female education in this country under the guidance of the light
     of the Gospel of our Lord and Saviour, such as is exemplified by
     the American Mission, whose labors in diffusing and disseminating
     the Scriptures are so conspicuously manifest.

     "That example chiefly has had the effect, in this neighborhood, to
     stir up gigantic efforts to fill the want of female education. The
     same feeling is extending itself throughout Syria, so that future
     prospects for the promotion of pure Christian knowledge and true
     civilization are brilliant and ought surely to encourage the
     benevolent in persevering in their action."

The Rev. John Wortabet, M.D., Professor of Anatomy in the Syrian
Protestant College, and husband of Salome, writes as follows:--

     Beirût, Oct. 20, 1872.

     "Though I was very young when Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Whiting, and Mrs. De
     Forest began their labors in the cause of Female Education in
     Syria, I can distinctly recollect that they were the first to
     initiate that movement which has grown to so vast an extent at the
     present time. To them belongs the honor of having been the
     determined and brave pioneers in the important work of raising
     woman from her degraded position, brought on by ignorance and
     Mohammedan influence, to one of considerable respect, in a social,
     intellectual and moral point of view. I do not mean that they
     achieved then this great and worthy object, but they were first to
     begin the work, which is still going on, and destined apparently to
     grow much farther. And it is but just that their names and primary
     labors be embalmed in the memories of the past.

     "Aside from the intrinsic good which they accomplished, and the
     direct fruits of their labors, and you are as well acquainted with
     them as I am--they gave the first and best _teachers_ for the
     schools which have sprung up so abundantly since their time. Of the
     importance of giving well-trained female teachers for female
     schools, in the peculiar social system of the East, nothing need be
     said.

     "I believe, however, that the main value of these earlier labors
     was the _impulse_ which they gave to the course of Female Education
     in Syria. Prejudices and barriers, which had become hoary by the
     lapse of time, have been completely broken down, at least among the
     Christian Churches of the East."




CHAPTER XVII.

OTHER LABORS FOR WOMEN AND GIRLS IN THIS FIELD.


The following statements have been chiefly made out from documents
furnished to me by those in charge of the various Institutions. I give
them in order according to the date of their establishment.


THE IRISH AND AMERICAN UNITED PRESBYTERIAN MISSION IN DAMASCUS.

I have not received official statistics with regard to the work of this
Mission in behalf of women, but they have maintained schools for girls
and personal labors for the women through a long series of years. Mrs.
Crawford, who is thoroughly familiar with the Arabic language, has
labored in a quiet and persevering manner among the women of Damascus
and Tebrûd, and the fruits of these labors will be seen in years to
come. Miss Dales, now Mrs. Dr. Lansing, of Cairo, conducted a school for
Jewish girls in Damascus some fifteen years ago, which was well
attended.

Mrs. E. Watson, an English lady of great energy and zeal in the cause of
female education, after years of labor in North and South America,
Greece and Asia Minor, came to Syria in 1858, and commenced a girls'
school in her own hired house. She afterwards removed to Shemlan, in
Mount Lebanon, where she erected a building at her own expense for a
girls' boarding school, and afterwards gave it to the Society for the
Promotion of Female Education in the East. She has since, with untiring
energy, erected another building for a Seminary for Druze and Christian
girls, the former Institution continuing as it has been for many years
under the efficient management of Miss Hicks, assisted by Miss Dobbie.
She has also recently erected a neat and substantial church edifice in
Shemlan.

In Miss Hicks' absence, Mrs. Watson has addressed me the following
letter:

     Shemlan, August 28, 1872.

     "Our first school for native girls was commenced in Beirût in 1858.
     The teachers have been Miss Hicks, Miss Hiscock, Mrs. Walker, Miss
     Dillon, Miss Jacombs, (now in Sidon,) Miss Stainton, (now in
     Sidon,) and Miss Dobbie. No native female teachers have been
     employed except pupils of the school under Miss Hicks' care.
     Masters Riskullah in Beirût, and Murad, Reshîd and Daûd, in
     Shemlan, have been connected with the school as teachers of the
     higher Arabic branches.

     "The whole number of boarders under our care up to the present
     time, is above one hundred. The only teachers in my second boarding
     school are, my adopted daughter Handûmeh, and Zarifeh Twiney, a
     pupil of the Prussian Deaconesses. Seventeen or eighteen of our
     pupils have been, or are now teachers, and ten are married.

     "The school directed by Miss Hicks was given over to the Ladies'
     Society in England, some six or seven years ago, and has been
     supported by them since. The new school in the upper house is under
     no society and is not regularly aided by any. There are from
     twenty-six to twenty-eight boarders under the care of my daughter,
     Miss Watson, I aiding as I can. Several girls have been supported
     for the last two years by friends in America and England. We have
     had ten Druze girls in our school in the upper house. Miss Hicks
     has had three or four, and a number in her day school. We had also
     a number in our day school at Aitath, four of whom are married to
     Druze Sheikhs."

Mr. Elias Suleeby, aided by friends in Scotland, has for a considerable
period conducted common schools in a part of Mount Lebanon and the
Bukaa, and now the enterprise has been adopted by the Free Church of
Scotland, who have sent the Rev. Mr. Rae to be their Superintendent.

Their schools are chiefly for boys, though in all the village schools it
is usual for a few of the smaller girls to attend the boys' school. In
Suk el Ghurb, however, they have a boarding school containing some
twenty-five girls.


THE PRUSSIAN DEACONESSES INSTITUTE IN BEIRUT

The Orphan House, Boarding School and Hospital with which the Prussian
Deaconesses are connected, were established in 1860. The two former are
supported by the Kaiserswerth Institution in Germany, and the latter by
the Knights of St. John.

In the Orphan House are one hundred and thirty orphan girls, all native
Syrians, who are clothed, fed and instructed for four or five years, and
often transformed from wild, untutored semi-barbarians to tidy, well
behaved and useful young women. They have ordinarily about fifty
applicants waiting for a vacancy in order to enter.

The Boarding School is for the education of the children of European
residents, Germans, French, Italians, Greeks, Maltese, English, Scotch,
Irish, Hungarians, Dutch, Swiss, Danish, Americans and others. The
medium of instruction is the French language.

Since the Orphan School began, many of the girls have married, thirty
have become teachers, and about twenty of them are living as servants in
families.

In August of the year 1861, the Deaconesses had received about 110
orphans. The children entering are received for three years, and the
surviving parent or guardian is required to sign a bond, agreeing to
leave the child for that period, or if the child is withdrawn before
that time, to pay to the Deaconesses all that has been expended upon
her.

In the summer of 1861, several of the parents came and tried to remove
their children, though they had no means of supporting them, but the
contract stood in the way, and they had no money to pay. The Jesuits
then came forward and furnished the parents with French gold in
Napoleons, and withdrew in one day fifty orphan girls from the
institution, sending them, not to an institution of their own, but
turning them back upon their wretched parents and friends to be trained
in poverty and ignorance. A few days later, thirty more of the girls
were removed in the same way, leaving only thirty. The parents had a
legal right to remove the children on the payment of the money, but what
shall be said of the cruelty of the Jesuits who turned back these
wretched children to the destitution and misery of a Syrian orphan? The
Jesuits are the same everywhere, unscrupulous and intriguing, counting
all means as right, which promote their own end.


THE BRITISH SYRIAN SCHOOLS.

These Schools, so numerous and widely extended, have grown up since the
massacre year 1860. I remember well the first arrival of Mrs. Bowen
Thompson in Beirût, and her persevering energy in forming her little
school for the widows and orphans of Hasbeiya, Deir el Komr and
Damascus.

From that little beginning in 1860, the school increased the following
year, until finally other branch schools were organized in Beirût and
Lebanon, and then in Damascus and Tyre, until now, the following
schedule, furnished to me by the officers of the Institution, will show
to what proportions the enterprise has grown. The Memoir of Mrs.
Thompson, entitled "The Daughters of Syria," gives so full a history of
these schools, that I need only refer the reader to that volume for all
the information desired. Since the lamented death of Mrs. Thompson, the
direction of the schools has been entrusted to her sister, Mrs. Mentor
Mott. The Central Training School in Beirût was under the care of Mrs.
Shrimpton, who labored with great earnestness and wisdom in that
important institution until the spring of 1873, when she resigned her
position and became connected with the work of Female education under
the American mission in Syria. She was aided by English and native
teachers. The schools in Zahleh, Damascus, Hasbeiya and Tyre are under
the care of English and Scotch ladies, who have certainly evinced the
most admirable courage and resolution in entering, in several of these
places, upon outpost duty, without European society, and isolated for
months together from persons speaking their own language. I believe that
such instances as these have demonstrated anew the fact that where woman
is to be reached, woman can go, and Christian women from Christian
lands, even if beyond the age generally fixed as the best adapted to the
easy acquisition of a foreign language, may yet do a great work in
maintaining centres of influence at the outposts, and superintending the
labors of native teachers. These young native teachers trained in
Shemlan, Sidon, Suk el Ghurb and Beirût, cannot go to distant places as
teachers, and _ought not to go_, without a home and proper protection
provided for them. Such protection _is given_ by a European or American
woman, who has the independence and the resolution to go where no
missionary family resides, and carry on the work of female education.
Even at the risk of offending the modesty of the persons concerned, I
cannot refrain from putting on record my admiration of the course of
Miss Wilson in Zahleh, Miss Gibbon in Hasbeiya, and Miss Williams in
Tyre, in making homes for themselves, and carrying on their work far
from European society and intercourse.

The British Syrian Schools are doing a good work in promoting Bible
education. Many of the native teachers, male and female, have been
trained in our Mission Seminaries, and not a few of them are members of
our evangelical churches. It has always been my aim, from the time when
Mrs. Bowen Thompson first landed in Syria to the present time, to do all
in my power to "help those women which labored with me in the gospel."

We are engaged in a common work, surrounded by thousands of needy
perishing souls, Mohammedan, Pagan and Nominal Christian. The work is
pressing, and the Lord's husbandmen ought to work together, forgetting
and ignoring all diversities of nationality, denomination and social
customs. There should be no such word as American, English, Scotch or
German, attached to any enterprise that belongs to the common Master.
The common foe is united in opposition. Let us be united in every
practicable way. Let our name be _Christian_, our work one of united
sympathy, prayer and coöperation, and let not Christ be divided in His
members. I write these words in connection with the subject of the
British Syrian Schools, because I can speak from experience of the
value of such coöperation in the past. As Acting Pastor of the Native
Evangelical Church in Beirût, to the communion of which I have received
so many young teachers and pupils from the various Seminaries and
schools, I feel the great importance of this hearty coöperation and
unity of action among those who are at the head of the various
Protestant Educational Institutions in Syria.

The Emissaries of Rome are laboring with sleepless vigilance to win
Syria to the Papacy. Sisters of Charity, Sisters of Nazareth, Jesuits,
Lazarists, Capuchins, Dominicans, and Franciscans, monks, nuns and papal
legates, are swarming throughout the land. Though notoriously jealous of
each other's progress, they are always united in their common opposition
to the Evangelical faith, and an open Bible. We have thus not only the
old colossal fortresses of Syrian error to demolish, but the new
structures of Jesuitical craft to overturn, before Syria comes to
Christ.

It has been stated on a preceding page that in 1835, the American wife
of an English merchant, Mrs. Alexander Tod, gave a large part of the
funds to build the first school-house for girls ever built in Syria.
That substantial union has been happily reproduced in the cordial
coöperation of the Anglo-American and German communities in Beirût, both
in the Church, public charities and educational institutions, up to the
present time.

Let us all live in Christ, work for Christ, keep our eye fixed on
Christ, and we shall be with Christ, and Christ with us!


_BRITISH SYRIAN SCHOOLS_, 1872.

BEIRUT.

No.  Established.              Name.               Scholars.  Teachers.

 1       1860           Training Institution,          92         16
 2       1863           Musaitebeh,                    85          3
 3       1868           Blind School, men & boys,      16          2
 4       1868           Blind girls' School,           11          1
 5       1860           Boys' School,                  85          5
 6       1861           East Coombe,                  120          4
 7       1860           Elementary,                    30          2
 8       1872           Es-Saifeh,                    100          4
 9       1860           Infant School,                125          3
10       1860           Moslem,                        50          4
11       1860           Night School,                ----          5
12       1863           Olive Branch,                  85          4

DAMASCUS.

13       1867           St. Paul's,                   170          6
14       1869           Blind School,                  15          1
15       1870           Medan,                         80          2
16       1867           Night School,                  30          1

LEBANON.

17       1863          _Ashrafiyeh_,                   53          3
18       1868          _Ain Zehalteh_,                 50          2
19       1869          _Aramoon_,                      40          2
20       1863          _Hasbeiya_,                    160          3
21       1867          _Mokhtara_,                   ----       ----
22       1868          _Zahleh_,                       75          4

TYRE.

23       1869           Girls' School,                 50          2
                                                     ----       ----
          Totals,                                    1522         79
          Bible Women,                                  7

MISS TAYLOR'S SCHOOL FOR MOSLEM GIRLS.

This worthy Christian lady from Scotland is doing a quiet yet most
effective work in Beirût, with which few are acquainted, yet it is
carried on in faith from year to year, and the fruits will no doubt
appear one day, in a vast reformation in the order, morality and general
improvement of the Moslem families of Beirût.

Ever since the days of Mrs. Sarah L. Smith, and Mrs. Dr. Dodge, Moslem
girls have been more or less in attendance upon the schools of the Syria
Mission, but the purely Moslem schools of Miss Taylor and of the British
Syrian Schools are making a special effort to extend education into
every Moslem household.

This school was opened in February, 1868, for the poorest of the poor.
It received the name of "The Original Ragged school for Moslem Girls."
No one is considered as enrolled, who has not been at least three weeks
in regular attendance. The number already received has reached very near
five hundred, all Mohammedans, except five Jewish and fifteen Druze
girls. Native teachers are also employed, and the pupils are taught
reading, writing, geography, and arithmetic. The principal lesson-book
is the Bible. The early history of this institution is replete with
interest; but it has attracted little public notice hitherto. It has
always been a prudential question whether it would not be wiser to
proceed with its work in a quiet unobtrusive way, so as not to awake
fanatical opposition. But steady and appreciative friends have stood by
it from the beginning, and those who know the school best have commended
it most earnestly.


CHURCH OF SCOTLAND SCHOOL FOR JEWISH GIRLS IN BEIRUT.

This school has been in operation since 1865. Although established
originally for Jewish girls alone, of whom it frequently had fifty in
regular attendance, it has also had under instruction, Greek and Moslem
girls.

Three European teachers and two native teachers have been connected with
it, under the supervision of the Rev. James Robertson, Pastor of the
Anglo-American congregation in Beirût.




CHAPTER XVIII.

THE AMOUNT OF BIBLICAL INSTRUCTION GIVEN IN MISSION SCHOOLS.


There has been great difference of opinion with regard to the proper
position of Education in the Foreign Missionary work. While some have
given it the first rank as a missionary agency, others have kept it in
the background as being a non-missionary work, and hence to be left to
the natives themselves to conduct, after their evangelization by the
simple and pure preaching of the gospel. The Syria Mission have been
led, by the experience of long and laborious years of labor in this
peculiar field, to regard education as one of the most important
auxiliaries in bringing the Gospel in contact with the people. Society
and sects are so organized and constituted, that while the people of a
given village would not receive a missionary as simply a preacher of the
Gospel, they will gladly accept a school from his hands, and welcome him
on every visit to the school as a benefactor. They will not only receive
the daily lessons and instructions of the school-teacher in religious
things, but even ask the missionary to preach to them the Word of life.
Schools in Syria are entering wedges for Gospel truth.

Our schools are of two classes, the High schools or Seminaries for
young men and young women, and the common schools for children of both
sexes. In the former, Biblical instruction is the great thing, the chief
design of the High schools being to train the young to a correct and
thorough acquaintance with Divine truth. The course of Bible instruction
conducted by Mr. Calhoun in Abeih Seminary, is, I doubt not, more
thorough and constant, than in any College or High School in the United
States. While the sciences are taught systematically, the Bible is made
the principal text-book, and several hours each day are given to its
study. In our common schools, likewise, Bible reading and instruction
hold a prominent place. Owing to the paucity of books in the Arabic
language proper to be used as reading books, a reading book was prepared
by the Mission, consisting almost exclusively of extracts from the
Scriptures. In addition to this book, the Psalms of David and the New
Testament are used as regular reading books in all the schools. There
are daily exercises in reading the Bible and reciting the Catechism. It
will be observed from what I have stated, that the amount of spiritual
knowledge acquired by the children, in the very process of learning to
read, is not small. Being obliged to commit to memory texts, paragraphs,
and whole chapters, from year to year, their minds become stored with
the precious words of the Sacred Book. Very much depends upon the
teacher. When we can obtain pious, praying teachers, the Scripture
lessons can be given with much more profit and success, and it is our
aim to employ only pious teachers where we can get them. And the example
of the teacher receives a new auxiliary, as it were, in impressing these
lessons on the mind, where the pupils can attend a preaching service on
the Sabbath. Sometimes a pressing call comes from a village, where it
seems important for strategic reasons, to respond at once. A pious
teacher cannot be found, and we send a young man of well-known moral
character. But only necessity would oblige us to do this, and a change
for the better is always made as soon as practicable.

Bible schools are a mighty means of usefulness. I think nothing strikes
a new missionary with more grateful surprise on entering the Syrian
Mission-field, than to witness the great prominence given to Biblical
instruction, from the humblest village school of little Arab boys and
girls, to the highest Seminaries. The examinations in the Scriptures
passed by the young men in Abeih, and the girls in the Beirût and Sidon
Seminaries, would do credit to the young people in any American
community. Bible schools are not merely useful as an entering wedge to
give the missionary a position and an influence among the people; they
are intrinsically useful in introducing a vast amount of useful Bible
knowledge into the minds of the children, and through them to their
parents. In countries where the people as a mass are ignorant of
reading, they are an absolute necessity, and in any community they are a
blessing. Had all Mission Schools been conducted on the same thorough
Biblical basis as those in Syria, there would have been less objection
to schools as a part of the missionary work.


THE SPHERE AND MODES OF WOMAN'S WORK IN FOREIGN LANDS.

In this age, when Christian women in many lands are engaging in the
Foreign Mission work with so much zeal, it is important to know who
should enter personally upon this work, and what are the modes and
departments of labor in which they can engage when on the ground.

No woman should go to the Foreign field who has not sound health,
thorough education, and a reasonable prospect of being able to learn a
foreign language. The languages of different nations differ as to
comparative ease of acquisition, but it is well for any one who has the
_Arabic_ language to learn, to begin as early in life as practicable. It
should be borne in mind that the work in foreign lands is a self-denying
work, and I know of no persons who are called to undergo greater
self-denial than unmarried women engaged in religious work abroad. They
are doing a noble work, a necessary work, and a work of lasting
usefulness. Deprived in many instances of the social enjoyments and
protection of a _home_, they _make_ a home in their schools, and throw
themselves into a peculiar sympathy with their pupils, and the families
with which they are brought into contact. Where several are associated
together, as they always should be, the institution in which they live
becomes a model of the Christian order, sympathy and mutual help, which
is characteristic of the home in Christian lands. Christian women,
married and unmarried, can reach a class in every Arabic community from
which men are sedulously excluded. They should enter upon the foreign
work as a life-work, devote themselves first of all to the mastery of
the language of the people, open their eyes to all that is pleasant and
attractive among the natives, and close them to all that is unlovable
and repulsive, resolved to love the people, and what pertains to them,
for Christ's sake who died for them, and to identify themselves with the
people in every practicable way. Persons who are incapable of loving or
admiring anything that is not American or English had better remain in
America or England; and on the other hand, there is no surer passport to
the affections of any people, than the disposition to overlook their
faults, and to treat them as our brethren and sisters for whom a common
Saviour died. Let no missionary of either sex who goes to a foreign
land, think that there is nothing to be learned from Syrians or Hindoos,
Chinese or Japanese. The good is not all confined to any land or people.

Among the departments of woman's work in foreign lands are the
following:--

I. Teaching in established institutions, Female Seminaries, Orphan
Houses and High Schools.

II. Acting as Nurses in Hospitals, as is done by the Prussian
Protestant Deaconesses of Kaiserswerth, who are scattered over the East
and doing a work of peculiar value.

III. Visiting from house to house, for the express purpose of holding
religious conversation with the people _in their own language_. This can
only be done in Syria by one versed in the Arabic, and able to speak
_without an interpreter_.

Ignorance of the language of the people, is a barrier which no skill of
an interpreter can break down, and every woman who would labor with
acceptance and success among the women of Syria, must be able to speak
to them familiarly in their own mother tongue. Interpreters may be
honest and conscientious, but not one person in a thousand can translate
accurately from one language to another without previous preparation.
And besides, interpreters are not always reliable. There is still
living, in the city of Tripoli, an old man named Abdullah Yanni, who
acted as interpreter for a Jewish Missionary some forty years ago. He
tells many a story of the extraordinary shape which that unsuspecting
missionary's discourses assumed in passing through his lips. One day
they went through the principal street to preach to the Moslems. A great
crowd assembled, and Abdullah trembled, for in those days of darkness
Moslems oppressed and insulted Christians with perfect impunity. Said
the missionary, "Tell the Moslems that unless they all repent and
believe in Christ, they will perish forever." Abdullah translated, and
the Moslems gave loud and earnest expression to their delight. They
declared, "That is so, that is so, welcome to the Khowadja!" Abdullah
had told them that "the Khowadja says, that he loves you very much, and
the Engliz and the Moslems are 'sowa sowa,' _i.e._ together as one."

Abdullah soon found it necessary to tell his confiding friend and
employer, that it would not do to preach in that bold manner, for if he
should translate it literally, the Moslems would kill both of them on
the spot. The missionary replied, "Let them kill us then." Abdullah
said, "it may do very well for you, but I am not prepared to die, and
would prefer to wait." The very first requisite for usefulness in a
foreign land is the language. It might be well, as previously intimated
in this volume, that in each of the Female Seminaries, the number of the
teachers should be large enough to allow the most experienced in the
language to give themselves for a portion of each week to these friendly
religious visits. The Arab race are eminently a sociable, visiting
people, and a foreign lady is always welcome among the women of every
grade of society, from the highest to the lowest.

IV. Holding special Women's Meetings of the Female Church members from
week to week in the homes of the different families. The neighboring
women will come in, and the native women, who would never take part in a
women's prayer-meeting, in the presence of a missionary, will gladly do
it with the example and encouragement of one of their own sex. Such
meetings have been conducted in Hums and Tripoli, in Beirût, Abeih,
Deir el Komr and Sidon, and in Suk el Ghurb, B'hamdûn, Hasbeiya, and
Deir Mimas for many years. Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Isaac Bird, Mrs. Thomson,
Mrs. Van Dyck, Mrs. Whiting, Mrs. Goodell, Mrs. Dr. Dodge, Miss
Williams, Miss Tilden, Mrs. De Forest, Mrs. Calhoun, Mrs. Wilson, Mrs.
Ford, Mrs. Foot, Mrs. Eddy, and Mrs. W. Bird, Mrs. Lyons and Mrs.
Cheney, Mrs. Bliss, Miss Temple, Miss Mason, Mrs. S. Jessup are among
the American Christian women who have labored or are still laboring for
the welfare of their sisters in Syria, and younger laborers more
recently entered into the work, are preparing to prosecute the work with
greater energy than ever. There are other names connected with Woman's
Work in Syria as prosecuted by the American Mission, but the list is too
long to be enumerated in full. Many of them have rested from their
labors, and their works do follow them.


THE BEIRUT FEMALE SEMINARY.

The last Annual Report of the Board of Missions of the Presbyterian
Church of the United States, speaks of these two Female Seminaries as
follows:

"The Beirût Seminary is conducted by Miss Everett, Miss Jackson and Miss
Loring, containing forty boarding and sixty day scholars, where the
object is to give an education suited to the wants of the higher classes
of the people, to gain a control over the minds of those females who
will be most influential in forming society and moulding opinion. This
hold the Papal Sisters of Charity have striven earnestly to gain, and
its vantage ground was not to be abandoned to them. The institution is
rising in public esteem and confidence, as the number and the class of
pupils in attendance testify. The Seminary is close to the Sanctuary,
not less in sympathy than in position, and its whole influence is given
to make its pupils followers of Christ."

In addition to this brief notice, it should be said that there are in
the Beirût Seminary thirty charity boarders, who are selected chiefly
from Protestant, Greek and Druze families, to be trained for teachers of
a high order in the various girls' schools in the land. A special Normal
course of training is conducted every year, and it is believed that
eventually young women trained in other schools will enter this Normal
Department to receive especial preparation for the work of teaching.

The charity boarders are supported by the contributions of Sabbath
Schools and individuals in the United States, with especial reference to
their being trained for future usefulness.

After an experience of nearly ten years in conducting the greater part
of the correspondence with the patrons of this school, and maintaining
their interest in the pupils and teachers whom they were supporting by
their contributions, I would venture to make a few suggestions to the
Christian Mission Bands, Societies, Bible Classes, Sabbath Schools and
individuals who are doing so much for the education of children in
foreign lands.

I. Let all contributions for Women's Work and the education of girls,
be sent through the Women's Boards of Missions, or if that is not
convenient, in the form of a banker's draft on London, payable to the
Principal of the Seminary with whom you have correspondence.

II. If possible, allow your donation to be used for the general purposes
of the Seminary, without insisting that a special pupil or teacher be
assigned to you. But if it be not possible to maintain the interest of
your children and youth in a work so distant without some special
object, then by all means,--

III. Do not demand too much from your over-taxed sisters in the foreign
field in the way of letters and reports. The labors of a teacher are
arduous everywhere. But when instruction is given in a foreign language,
in a foreign climate, and to children of a foreign nation, these labors
are greatly increased. Add then to this toil correspondence with the
Board of Missions, the daily study of the language, the work of visiting
among the people, and receiving their visits, and you can understand how
the keeping up of correspondence with twenty or thirty Sabbath Schools
and Societies is a burden which no woman should be called on to bear.

IV. Do not expect sensational letters from your friends abroad. Do not
take for granted that the child of ten years of age you are supporting,
will develop into a distinguished teacher or Bible woman before the
arrival of the next mail. Do not be discouraged if you have to wait and
pray for years before you hear good tidings. Should any of the native
children ever send you a letter, (and they have about as clear an idea
of who you are and where you are, as they have of the satellites of
Jupiter,) do not expect from their youthful productions the elegance of
Addison or the eloquence of Burke.

V. Pray earnestly for the conversion of the pupils in Mission Schools.
This I regard as the great advantage of the system of having pupils
supported by Christians in the home churches, and known to them by name.
They are made the subjects of special prayer. This is the precious
golden bond which brings the home field near to us, and the foreign
field near to you. Our chief hope for these multitudes of children now
receiving instruction, is, that they will be prayed for by Christians at
home.


THE SIDON FEMALE SEMINARY.

The Annual Report above mentioned, speaks thus of the Sidon Seminary:
"It is conducted by Miss Jacombs and Miss Stainton, and has numbered
about twenty boarders and six day scholars. The boarders are exclusively
from Protestant families, selected from the common schools in all parts
of the field, and are in training for the Mission service, as teachers
and Bible readers. Four of the graduates of last year are already so
employed. One difficulty in the way of reaching with the truth the minds
of the women in the numerous villages of the land, will be obviated in
part, as the results of this work are farther developed.

"There has been considerable seriousness and some hopeful conversions,
in both these seminaries during the past year.

"The work is worthy of the interest taken in it by the Women's Boards of
Missions, and by societies and individuals in the church who have
co-operated in it."

The Sidon Seminary, as stated on a previous page, was begun in 1862, and
has had four European and six native teachers. Of the latter, one was
trained in Mrs. Bird's family, one in Shemlan Seminary, three in the
Sidon school, and one by Mrs. Watson.

Ten of its graduates have been employed as teachers, and eight are still
so engaged.

I annex a list of Girls' Schools now or formerly connected with the
Syria Mission.

                          No. of  No. of   When begun
  Location.               Pupils. Teach'rs

Beirût,       Day School,   50       2       1834
  "           Seminary,     50      10       1848
Sidon,        Seminary,     20       3       1862
  "           Day School,    6       1       1862
Abeih,            "         60       1       1853
Deir el Komr,     "         50       2       1855  To be resumed soon.
Ghorify,          "         40       1       1863  All Druzes.
El Hadeth,        "         40       1       1870
Shwifat,          "         70       2       1871
Dibbiyeh,         "         20       1       1868
B'Hamdûn,         "         30       1       1853  Discontinued.
Meshgara,         "         30       1       1869  Boys and girls,
Ain Anûb,         "         20       1       1870    and 60 boys.
Kefr Shima,       "         40       1       1856  Boys and girls.
Rasheiya el
  Fokhar,         "         30       1       1869
Jedaideh,         "         40       1       1870
El Khiyam,        "         25       1       1868
Ibl,              "         30       1       1868
Deir Mimas,       "         15       1       1865
Kana,             "         35       1       1869
Hums,             "         40       1       1865
Safita,           "         30       1       1869
Hamath,           "         30       1       1872
-------------             -----------------
Totals    23               801      36

This gives a total of twenty-three girls' schools besides the
twenty-four boys' schools under the care of the Mission, and three
schools where there are both boys and girls. I have kept the name of
B'hamdûn in the list, for its historical associations, but the thirty
pupils credited to it, will be more than made good in the girl's school
about to be resumed in Tripoli under the care of Miss Kip.

The total number of girls is about 800, and the number of teachers 36.
The total cost of these twenty-three schools, including the two
Seminaries in Beirût and Sidon, is about eight thousand dollars per
annum, including rents, salaries of five American and English ladies,
and thirty-one native teachers.

The average cost of the common schools in the Sidon field is sixty
dollars per annum, and in the Lebanon field it varies from this sum to
about twice that amount, owing to the fact that the Deir el Komr and
other schools are virtually High Schools.

The teacher in the Sidon field, and in Abeih, and Safita, are graduates
of the Sidon Seminary.

It is probable that a High School or Seminary for girls will be opened
by Miss Kip in Tripoli during the coming year.

The preceding schedule can give but a faint idea of the struggles and
toil, the patient labors, disappointments and trials of faith through
which the women of the American Mission have passed during the last
forty years, in beginning and maintaining so many of these schools for
girls in Syria.

Did I speak of _trials_? The Missionary work has its trials, but I
believe that its joys are far greater. The saddest scenes I have
witnessed during a residence of seventeen years in Syria, have been when
Missionaries have been obliged to _leave the work_ and return to their
native land. There are trials growing out of the hardness of the human
heart, our own want of faith, the seeming slow progress of the gospel,
and the heart-crushing disappointments arising from broken hopes, when
individuals and communities who have promised well, turn back to their
old errors "like the dog to his vomit" again. But of joys it is much
easier to speak, the joy of preaching Christ to the perishing,--of
laboring where others will not labor,--of laying foundations for the
future,--of feeling that you are doing what you can to fulfil the
Saviour's last command,--of seeing the word of God translated into a new
language,--a christian literature beginning to grow,--children and youth
gathered into Schools and Seminaries of learning, and even sects which
hate the Bible obliged to teach their children to read it,--of seeing
christian families growing up, loving the Sabbath and the Bible, the
sanctuary and the family altar.--Then there is the joy of seeing souls
born into the kingdom of our dear Redeemer, and churches planted in a
land where pure Christianity had ceased to exist,--and of witnessing
unflinching steadfastness in the midst of persecution and danger, and
the triumphs of faith in the solemn hour of death.

These are a few of the joys which are strewn so thickly along the path
of the Christian Missionary, that he has hardly time to think of
sorrow, trial and discouragement. Those who have read Dr. Anderson's
"History of Missions to the Oriental Churches," and Rev. Isaac Bird's
"History of the Syria Mission," or "Bible Work in Bible Lands," will see
that the work of the Syria Mission from 1820 to 1872 has been one of
conflict with principalities and powers, and with spiritual wickedness
in high and low places, but that at length the hoary fortresses are
beginning to totter and fall, and there is a call for a general advance
in every department of the work, and in every part of the land.

Other agencies have come upon the ground since the great foundation work
was laid, and the first great victories won, and in their success it
becomes all of God's people to rejoice; but the veterans who fought the
first battles, and overcame the great national prejudice of the Syrian
people against female education, should ever be remembered with
gratitude.

It has been my aim in this little volume to recount the history of
Woman's Work in the past. Who can foretell what the future of Christian
work for Syrian Women will be?

May it ever be a work founded on the Word of God, aiming at the
elevation of woman through the doctrines and the practice of a pure
Christianity, striving to plant in Syria, not the flippant culture of
modern fashionable society, but the God-fearing, Sabbath-loving, and
Bible-reading culture of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors!

A few years ago, a Greek priest named Job, from one of the distant
villages high up in the range of Lebanon, called on me in Beirût. I had
spent several summers in his village, and he had sometimes borrowed our
Arabic sermons to read in the Greek Church, and now, he said, he had
come down to see what we were doing in Beirût. I took him through the
Female Seminary and the Church, and then to the Library and the Printing
Press. He examined the presses, the steam engine, the type-setting, and
type-casting, the folding, sewing, and binding of books, and looked
through the huge cases filled with Arabic books and Scriptures, saw all
the editions of the Bible and the Testament, and then turned in silence
to take his departure. I went with him to the outer gate. He took my
hand, and said, "By your leave I am going. The Lord bless your work.
Sir, I have a thought; we are all going to be swept away, priests and
bishops, Greeks and Maronites, Moslems and Druzes, and there will be
nothing left, nothing but the Word of God and those who follow it. That
is my thought. Farewell."

May that thought be speedily realized! May the coarseness, brutality and
contempt for woman which characterize the Moslem hareem, give way to the
refinement, intelligence, and mutual affection which belong to the
Christian family!

May the God of prophecy and promise, hasten the time when Nusairy
barbarism, Druze hypocrisy, Moslem fanaticism, Jewish bigotry and
nominal Christian superstition shall fade away under the glorious beams
of the rising Sun of Righteousness!

May the "glory of Lebanon" be given to the Lord, in the regeneration
and sanctification of the families of Lebanon!

Too long has it been true, in the degradation of woman, that the "flower
of Lebanon languisheth."

Soon may we say in the truly Oriental imagery of the Song of
Songs,--"Come 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,"--and behold, in the culture of woman, in society
regenerated, in home affection, in the Christian family, what is in a
peculiar sense, "a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and
streams from Lebanon!"

"Is it not yet a very little while, and Lebanon shall be turned into a
fruitful field?" When "the reproach of the daughters of Syria," shall be
taken away, and when amid the zearas of the Nusairîyeh, the kholwehs of
the Druzes, the mosques of the Moslems and the tents of the Bedawin, may
be heard the voice of Christ, saying to the poor women of the Arab race,
weary and fainting under the burdens of life:

    "Daughter be of good comfort,
    Thy faith hath made thee whole,
            Go in peace!"




THE CHILDREN'S CHAPTER.

PART I.


                              _Abeih, Mount Lebanon_, Sept., 1872.

My Dear Son Willie:--

It is now eight years since you left Syria, and you were then so young,
that you must have forgotten all about the country and the people. I
have often promised to tell you more about the Syrian boys and girls,
what they eat and wear, and how they study and play and sleep, and the
songs their mothers sing to them, and many other things. And now I will
try and fulfil my promise.

Here is a little boy at the door. His name is Asaad Mishrik, or "happy
sunrise," and his name is well given, for he comes every morning at
sunrise with a basket of fresh ripe figs, sweet and cold, and covered
with the sparkling dew. This morning when he came, your brother Harry
stood by the door looking at the figs with wistful eyes, and I gave him
a large one, which disappeared very suddenly. Asaad is a bright-eyed
boy, and helps his mother every day.

When he comes in, he says, Subah koom bil khire, "Your morning in
goodness." Then Assaf, the cook, answers him, "Yusaid Subahak," "May God
make happy your morning." If I come out when he is here, he runs up to
kiss my hand, as the Arab children are trained to be respectful to their
superiors. When a little Arab boy comes into a room full of older
people, he goes around and kisses the hand of each one and then places
it on his forehead. Asaad wears a red tarboosh or cap on his head, a
loose jacket, and trowsers which are like a blue bag gathered around the
waist, with two small holes for his feet to go through. They are drawn
up nearly to his knees, and his legs are bare, as he wears no stockings.
He wears red shoes pointed and turned up at the toes. When he comes in
at the door, he leaves his shoes outside, but keeps his cap on his head.

The people never take off their caps or turbans when entering a house,
or visiting a friend, but always leave their shoes at the door. The
reason is, that their floors are covered with clean mats and rugs, and
in the Moslem houses, the man kneels on his rug to pray, and presses his
forehead to the floor, so that it would not be decent or respectful to
walk in with dirty shoes and soil his sijjady on which he kneels to
pray. They have no foot-mats or scrapers, and it is much cheaper and
simpler to leave the shoes, dirt and all at the door. Sometimes we are
much embarrassed in calling on the old style Syrians as they look with
horror on our muddy feet, and we find it not quite so easy to remove
our European shoes. But it must be done, and it is better to take a
little extra trouble, and regard their feelings and customs, than to
appear coarse and rude.

It is very curious to go to the Syrian school-houses, and see the piles
of shoes at the door. There are new bright red shoes, and old tattered
shoes, and kob kobs, and black shoes, and sometimes yellow shoes. The
kob kobs are wooden clogs made to raise the feet out of the mud and
water, having a little strap over the toe to keep it on the foot. You
will often see little boys and girls running down steps and paved
streets on these dangerous kob kobs. Sometimes they slip and then down
they go on their noses, and the kob kobs fly off and go rattling over
the stones, and little Ali or Yusef, or whatever his name is, begins to
shout, Ya Imme! Ya Imme! "Oh, my mother!" and cries just like little
children in other countries.

But the funniest part of it is to see the boys when they come out of
school and try to find their shoes. There will be fifty boys, and of
course a hundred shoes, all mixed together in one pile. When school is
out, the boys make a rush for the door. Then comes the tug of war. A
dozen boys are standing and shuffling on the pile of shoes, looking
down, kicking away the other shoes, running their toes into their own,
stumbling over the kob kobs, and then making a dash to get out of the
crowd. Sometimes shins will be kicked, and hair pulled, and tarbooshes
thrown off, and a great screaming and cursing follow, which will only
cease when the Mûallim comes with his "Asa" or stick, and quells the
riot. That pile of shoes will have to answer for a good many schoolboy
fights and bruised noses and hard feelings in Syria. You would wonder
how they can tell their own shoes. So do I. And the boys often wear off
each other's shoes by mistake or on purpose, and then you will see Selim
running with one shoe on, and one of Ibrahim's in his hand, shouting and
cursing Ibrahim's father and grandfather, until he gets back his lost
property. Sometimes when men leave their shoes outside the door of a
house where they are calling, some one will steal them, and then they
are in a sorry plight. Shoes are regarded as very unclean, and when you
are talking in polite society, it will never do to speak of them,
without asking pardon. You would say, "the other day some one stole my
new shoes, ajellak Allah," _i.e._, May God exalt you above such a vile
subject! You would use the same words if you were talking with a Moslem,
and spoke of a dog, a hog, a donkey, a girl or a woman.

They do not think much of girls in Syria. The most of the people are
very sorry when a daughter is born. They think it is dreadful, and the
poor mother will cry as if her heart would break. And the neighbors come
in and tell her how sorry they are, and condole with her, just as if
they had come to a funeral. In Kesrawan, a district of Mount Lebanon
near Beirût, the Arab women have a proverb, "The threshold weeps forty
days when a girl is born."

There is a great change going on now in Syria in the feelings of the
people in regard to girls, but in the interior towns and villages where
the light of the Gospel has not shone as yet, and there are no schools,
they have the ancient ideas about them up to this very hour.

I knew an old Syrian grandmother in Tripoli who would not kiss her
granddaughter for six months after she was born, because she was born a
girl! But I know another family in that city of Tripoli that do not
treat girls in that style. The father is Mr. Antonius Yanni, a good
Christian man, and a member of the Mission Church. He is American Vice
Consul, and on the top of his house is a tall flag-staff, on which
floats the stars and stripes, on Fourth of July, and the Sultan's
birthday, Queen Victoria's birthday, and other great feast days. One day
when the Tripoli women heard that "Sitt Karîmeh, Yanni's wife, had
another "_bint_," (girl) they came in crowds to comfort her in her great
affliction! When Yanni heard of it, he could not restrain himself. He
loved his older daughter Theodora very dearly, and was thankful to God
for another sweet baby girl, so he told the women that he would have
none of this heathenish mourning in his house. He then shouted to his
janizary or Cawass, a white bearded old Moslem named Amr, "Amr, haul up
the Bandaira el Americanîyeh, (American flag) to show the world how glad
I am that I have another daughter." "On my head, on my head, sir," said
Amr, and away he went and hauled up the stars and stripes. Now the
Pasha's palace is not far away, and soon the Turkish guards saw the
flag, and hastened to the Pasha with the news that the American Consul
had some great feast day, as his flag was raised. The Pasha, supposing
it to be some important national feast day of the American Government
which he was so stupid as not to know about, sent his Chief Secretary at
once to Mr. Yanni to ask what feast it might be? Yanni received him
politely and ordered a narghileh and coffee and sherbet, and after
saying "good-morning," and "may you live forever," and "God prolong your
days!" over and over and over again, and wishing that Doulet America
might ever flourish, the Secretary asked which of the great American
festivals he was celebrating that day. Yanni laughed and said,
"Effendum, you know how many of the ignorant in Syria are so foolish as
to mourn and lament when God sends them a daughter, but I believe that
all God's gifts are good, and that daughters are to be valued as much as
sons, and to rebuke this foolish notion among the people, I put up my
flag as a token of joy and gratitude." "Sebhan Allah! you have done
right, sir," ... was the Secretary's reply, and away he went to the
Pasha. What the Pasha said, I do not know, but there was probably more
cursing than usual that day in the grand palace of Tripoli, for the
Mohammedans think the birth of a daughter a special judgment from God.

When a boy is born, there is great rejoicing. Presents are sent to him,
and the people call to congratulate the father, and the whole house is
gay and joyous. After a few days a dainty dish called "Mughly" is made
and sent around as a present to all of the relatives. It is made of
pounded rice, and flavored with rich spices and sugar and put into
little bowls, and almonds and other nuts sprinkled over the top. One of
these little bowls is sent to each of the friends. But when a girl is
born, there is no rejoicing, no giving of presents, and no making of the
delicious "mughly."

Here come two little girls bringing earthen pots of milk. They are poor
girls, daughters of two of our neighbors who are fellaheen or farmers.
One has no shoes, and neither have stockings. They wear plain blue
gowns, made of coarse cotton cloth, dyed with indigo, and rusty looking
tarbooshes on their heads, and a little piece of dirty white muslin
thrown over their heads as a veil to cover their faces with, when men
come in sight. One is named Lebeeby and the other Lokunda, which means
_Hotel_. They behave very well when they come here, as they have the
fear of the big Khowadja before their eyes, but when they are at home
running about, they often use dreadful language. Little boys and girls
in Syria have some awful oaths which they constantly use. I suppose the
poor things do not know the meaning of half the bad words they use. One
of the most common is "Yilan Abook," "curse your father!" It is used
everywhere and on every side by bad people, and the children use it
constantly in their play. When the little girls come into our Schools
and Seminaries, it is a long time before they will give up "abook"-ing.
One of our friends in America is educating a nice little girl in the
Beirût Seminary, and we asked the teacher about her a few days ago. The
answer was, "She still lies and swears dreadfully, but she has greatly
improved during the past two years, and we are encouraged about her."

Sometimes a boy will say to another Yilan abook, "Curse your father,"
and another will answer, Wa jiddak, "and your grandfather," and then
they will call back and forth like cats and dogs. I saw a Moslem boy
near my house standing by the corner to shield himself from the stones
another boy was throwing, and shouting wa jid, jid, jid, jid, jidak,
"and your great-great-great-great-grandfather," and away went the other
boy, shouting as he ran, "and your great-great-great-great gr-e-at," and
I heard no more. And then there are a great many very naughty and vile
words which the children use, which I cannot write, and yet we hear them
every day. It is very hard to keep our children from learning them, as
they talk Arabic better than we do, and often learn expressions which
they do not know the meaning of. One of the most common habits is using
the name of God in vain. The name of God is Allah, and "O God,"
_Yullah_. Then there is _Wullah_ and _Bismillah_, "In the name of God,"
_Hamdlillah_, "Praise to God," _Inshullah_, "If God will." The most
awful oaths are Wullah and Billah. The people use _Yullah_ at all times
and on all occasions. The donkey-drivers and muleteers say _Yullah_
when they drive their animals. Some years ago a good man from America,
who fears God and would not take his name in vain was travelling in the
Holy Land, and came on to Beirût. When he reached there, some one asked
him if he had learned any Arabic during his journey. He said yes, he had
learned _Bakhshish_ for "a present," and _Yullah_ for "go ahead." His
friend asked him if he had used the latter word much on the way. He said
certainly, he had used it all the way. His friend answered, Professor,
you have been swearing all the way through the Holy Land. Of course he
did not know it and meant no wrong. But it shows that such words are
used so commonly in Syria that strangers do not think them bad language,
and it also shows that travellers ought to be careful in using the words
they learn of muleteers and sailors in Arab land.

In some parts of the country the little boys and girls swear so
dreadfully that you can hardly bear to be with them. Especially among
the Nusairîyeh, they think that nothing will be believed unless they add
an oath. Dr. Post once rebuked an old Sheikh for using the word "Wullah"
so often, and argued so earnestly about it that the man promised never
to use it again. The old man a moment after repeated it. The doctor
said, "will you now pledge me that you will not say 'Wullah' again?" He
replied, "Wullah, I will."

Sometimes a donkey-driver will get out of patience with his long-eared
beast. The donkey will lie down with his load in a deep mud-hole, or
among the sharp rocks. For a time the man will kick and strike him and
throw stones at him, and finally when nothing else succeeds he will
stand back, with his eyes glaring and his fist raised in the air, and
scream out, "May Allah curse the beard of your grandfather!" I believe
that the donkey always gets up after that,--that is, if the muleteer
first takes off his load and then helps him, by pulling stoutly at his
tail.

I told you that one of the girls who bring us milk, is named
"_Lokunda_," or _Hotel_. She is a small specimen of a hotel, but
provides us purer and sweeter cow's milk than many a six-storied hotel
on Broadway would do. You will say that is a queer name for a girl, but
if you stop and think about many of our English names you would think
them queer too. Here in Syria, we have the house of Wolf, the house of
"Stuffed Cabbage," Khowadji Leopard, the lady "Wolves," and one of our
fellow villagers in Abeih where we spend the summer is Eman ed Deen
"faith-of-religion," although he has neither faith nor religion.

Among the boys' names are Selim, Ibrahim, Moosa, Yakob, Ishoc, Mustafa,
Hanna, Yusef, Ali, Saieed, Assaf, Giurgius, Faoor, and Abbas. I once met
a boy at the Cedars of Lebanon, who was named Jidry, or "Small-Pox,"
because that disease was raging in the village when he was born. It is
very common to name babies from what is happening in the world when they
are born. A friend of mine in Tripoli had a daughter born when an
American ship was in the harbor, so he called her America. When another
daughter was born there was a Russian ship in port, so he called her
Russia. There is a young woman in Sûk el Ghurb named Fetneh or Civil
War, and her sister is Hada, or Peace. An old lady lately died in Beirût
named Feinûs or Lantern. In the Beirût school are and have been girls
named Pearl, Diamond, Morning Dawn, Dew, Rose, Only one, and Mary Flea.
That girl America's full name was America Wolves, a curious name for a
Syrian lamb!

Sometimes children are named, and if after a few years they are sick,
the parents change their names and give them new ones, thinking that the
first name did not agree with them. A Druze told me that he named his
son in infancy _Asaad_ (or happier) but he was sickly, so they changed
his name to _Ahmed_ (Praised) and after that he grew better! He has now
become a Christian, and has resumed his first name Asaad.

I once visited a man in the village of Brummana who had six daughters,
whom he named _Sun_, _Morning_, _Zephyr breeze_, _Jewelry_, _Agate_, and
_Emerald_. I know girls named Star, Beauty, Sugar, One Eyed, and
Christian Barbarian. Some of the names are beautiful, as Leila, Zarifeh,
Lûlû, Selma, Lucîya, Miriam and Fereedy.

All of the men are called Aboo-somebody; _i.e._ the father of somebody
or something. Old Sheikh Hassein, whose house I am living in, is called
Aboo Abbas, _i.e._ the father of Abbas, because his eldest son's name is
Abbas. A young lad in the village, who is just about entering the
Freshman class in the Beirût College, has been for years called Aboo
Habeeb, or the father of Habeeb, when he has no children at all. Elias,
the deacon of the church in Beirût was called Aboo Nasif for more than
fifty years, and finally in his old age he married and had a son, whom
he named Nasif, so that he got his name right after all. They often give
young men such names, and if they have no children they call them by the
name of the son they might have had. But they will not call a man Aboo
Lûlû or Aboo Leila. If a man has a dozen daughters he will never be
called from them. They are "nothing but girls." A queer old man in
Ghurzûz once tried to name himself from his daughter Seleemeh, but
whenever any one called him Aboo Seleemeh, all the fellaheen would laugh
as if they would explode, and the boys would shout at him "there goes
old Aboo Seleemeh," as if it were a grand joke.

The Moslems and Druzes generally give their children the old unmixed
Arabic names, but the Maronites, the Greeks, and the Protestants often
use European names. A young lady named Miss Mason was once a teacher in
the Sidon Seminary, and spent the summer in the mountain village of Deir
Mimas. One of the women of the village liked her name, and named her
daughter "Miss Mason," and if you should go there you would hear the
little urchins of Deir Mimas shouting Miss Mason! to a little
blue-gowned and tarbooshed Arab girl.

What noise is that we hear down in the village, under the great jowz
(walnut) trees by the fountain? It rolls and gurgles and growls and
bellows enough to frighten a whole village full of children. But the
little Arab boys and girls are playing around, and the women are filling
their jars at the fountain just as if nothing had happened. But it is a
frightful noise for all that. It is the bellowing of the camels as their
heavy loads are being put on. They are kneeling on the ground, with
their long necks swaying and stretching around like boa constrictors.
These camels are very useful animals, but I always like to see them at a
distance, especially in the month of February, for at that time they get
to be as "mad as a March hare." They are what the Arabs call "taish,"
and often bite men severely. In Hums one bit the whole top of a man's
head off, and in Tripoli another bit a man's hand off. I once saw a
camel "taish" in Beirût, and he was driving the whole town before him.
Wherever he came, with his tongue hanging down and a foaming froth
pouring from his mouth as he growled and bellowed through the streets,
the people would leave their shops and stools and run in dismay. It was
a frightful sight. I was riding down town, and on seeing the crowd, and
the camel coming towards me, I put spurs to my horse and rode home.

When camels are tied together in a long caravan with a little
mouse-colored donkey leading the van, ridden by a long-legged Bedawy,
who sits half-asleep smoking his pipe, you would think them the tamest
and most innocent creatures in the world, but when they fall into a
panic, they are beyond all control. A few years ago a drove of camels
was passing through the city of Damascus. The Arabs drive camels like
sheep, hundreds and sometimes thousands in a flock, and they look
awkward enough. When this drove entered the city, something frightened
them, and they began to run. Just imagine a camel running! What a sight
it must have been! Hundreds of them went through the narrow streets,
knocking over men and women and donkeys, upsetting the shopkeepers, and
spilling out their wares on the ground, and many persons were badly
bruised. At length a carpenter saw them coming and put a timber across
the street, which dammed up the infuriated tide of camels, and they
dashed against one another until they were all wedged together, and thus
their owners secured them.

In August, 1862, a famous Bedawin Chief, named Mohammed ed Dukhy, in
Houran, east of the Jordan, rebelled against the Turkish Government. The
Druzes joined him, and the Turks sent a small army against them.
Mohammed had in his camp several thousand of the finest Arabian camels,
and they were placed in a row behind his thousands of Arab and Druze
horsemen. Behind the camels were the women, children, sheep, cattle and
goats. When the Turkish army first opened fire with musketry, the camels
made little disturbance, as they were used to hearing small arms, but
when the Turkish Colonel gave orders to fire with cannon, "the ships of
the desert" began to tremble. The artillery thundered, and the poor
camels could stand it no longer. They were driven quite crazy with
fright, and fled over the country in every direction in more than a Bull
Run panic. Some went down towards the Sea of Galilee, others towards the
swamps of Merom, and hundreds towards Banias, the ancient Cæsarea
Philippi, and onwards to the West as far as Deir Mimas. Nothing could
stop them. Their tongues were projecting, their eyes glaring, and on
they went. The fellaheen along the roads caught them as they could, and
sold them to their neighbors. Fine camels worth eighty dollars, were
sold for four or five dollars a head, and in some villages the fat
animals were butchered and sold for beef. Some of them came to Deir
Mimas, where two of the missionaries lived. The Protestants said to the
missionaries, "here are noble camels selling for five and ten dollars,
shall we buy? Others are buying." "By no means," they told them. "They
are stolen or strayed property, and you will repent it if you touch
them." Others bought and feasted on camel steaks, and camel soup, and
camel kibby, but the Protestants would not touch them. In a day or two,
the cavalry of the Turks came scouring the country for the camels, as
they were the spoils of war. Then the poor fellaheen were sorry enough
that they had bought and eaten the camels, for the Turks made them pay
back double the price of the beasts, and the Protestants found that
"honesty was the best policy."

The camel is very sure footed, but cannot travel on muddy and slippery
roads. The Arabs say "the camel never falls, but if he falls, he never
gets up again." They carry long timbers over Lebanon, on the steep and
rocky roads, the timber being balanced on the pack saddle, one end
extending out on front, and the other behind. Sometimes the timber
begins to swing about, and down the camel goes over the precipice and is
dashed to pieces.

The Arabs say that a man once asked a camel, "What made your _neck_ so
crooked?" The camel answered, "My neck? Why did you ask about my neck?
Is there anything else straight about me, that led you to notice my
neck?" This has a meaning, which is, that when a man's habits are all
bad, there is no use in talking about _one_ of them.

Perhaps you will ask, did you ever eat camel's flesh? Certainly. We do
not get it in Beirût, as camels are too expensive along the sea-coast to
be used as food, but in the interior towns, like Hums and Hamath, which
border on the desert or rather the great plains occupied by the ten
thousands of the Bedawin, camel's meat is a common article in the
market. They butcher fat camels, and young camel colts that have broken
their legs, and sometimes their meat is as delicious as beefsteak. But
when they kill an old lean worn-out camel, that has been besmeared with
pitch and tar for many years, and has been journeying under heavy loads
from Aleppo to Damascus until he is what the Arabs call a "basket of
bones," and then kill him to save his life, or rather his beef, the meat
is not very delicate.

The Arab name for a camel is "Jemel" which means _beauty_! They call
him so perhaps because there is no beauty in him. You will read in
books, that the camel is the "ship of the desert." He is very much like
a ship, as he carries a heavy cargo over the ocean-like plains and
"buraries" or wilds of the Syrian and Arabian deserts. He is also like a
ship in making people sea-sick who ride on his back, and because he has
a strong odor of tar and pitch like the hold of a ship, which sometimes
you can perceive at a long distance.




PART II.


Perhaps you would like to take a ride with me some day, and visit some
of the missionary stations in Syria. What will you ride? The horses are
gentle, but you would feel safer on a donkey. Mules are sometimes good
for riding, but I prefer to let them alone. I never rode a mule but
once. I was at Hasbeiya, and wished to visit the bitumen wells. My horse
was not in a condition to be ridden, so I took Monsûr's mule. It had
only a jillal or pack saddle, and Monsûr made stirrups of rope for me.
My companions had gone on in advance, and when I started, the mule was
eager to overtake them. All went well until we approached the little
stream which afterwards becomes the River Jordan. The ground was
descending, and the road covered with loose stones. The rest of our
party were crossing the stream and the mule thought he would trot and
come up with them. I tried to hold him in with the rope halter, but he
shook his head and dashed on. About the middle of the descent he
stumbled and fell flat upon his nose. I went over his head upon my
hands, but my feet were fast in the rope stirrups. Seeing that he was
trying to get up, I tried to work myself back into the saddle, but I had
only reached his head, when he sprang up. I was now in a curious and not
very safe situation. The mule was trotting on and I was sitting on his
head holding on to his ears, with my feet fast in the rope stirrups. A
little Arab boy was passing with a tray of bread upon his head and I
shouted to him for help. He was so amused to see a Khowadja with a hat,
riding at that rate on a mule's head, that he began to roar with
laughter and down went his tray on the ground and the Arab bread went
rolling among the stones. It was a great mercy that I did not fall under
the brute's feet, but I held on until he got the other side of the
Jordan, when a man ran out from the mill and stopped him. Monsûr now led
him by the halter and I reached the bitumen wells in safety.

You can mount your donkey and Harry will ride another, and I will ride
my horse, and we will try a Syrian journey. As we cannot spare the time
to go from Beirût to Tripoli by land, I have sent Ibrahim to take the
animals along the shore, and we will go up by the French steamer, a fine
large vessel called the "Ganges." We go down to the Kumruk or Custom
House, and there a little Arab boat takes us out to the steamer. In
rough weather it is very dangerous going out to the steamers, and
sometimes little boats are capsized, but to-night there is no danger.
You are now on the deck of the steamer. What a charming view of Beirût
and Mount Lebanon. Far out on the point of the cape are the new
buildings of the Syrian College, and next is the Prussian Hospital and
then the Protestant Prussian Deaconesses Institution with 130 orphans
and 80 paying pupils. There is the house of Dr. Thomson and Dr. Van Dyck
and Dr. Post, and the Turkish Barracks, and Mrs. Mott's school, and our
beautiful Church, with its clock tower, and you can hear the clock
strike six. Then next to the Church is the Female Seminary with its 100
pupils, and the Steam Printing Press, where are printed so many books
and Scriptures every year in the Arabic language. Those tall cypress
trees are in the Mission Cemetery where Pliny Fisk, and Eli Smith, and
Mr. Whiting, and a good many little children are buried. Near by are the
houses of Dr. Bliss and Dr. Lewis and our house, and you can see mosques
and minarets and domes and red-tiled roofs, and beautiful arched
corridors and green trees in every direction. Do you see the beautiful
purple tints on the Lebanon Mountains as the sun goes down? Is it not
worth a long journey to see that lofty peak gilded and tinted with
purple and pink and yellow as the sun sinks into the sea?

What a noise these boatmen make! I doubt whether you have ever heard
such a screaming before.

Now you can imagine yourself going to sleep in the state-room of this
great steamer, and away we go. The anchor comes up clank, clank, as the
great chain cable is wound up by the donkey engine, and now we move off
silently and smoothly. In about five hours we have made the fifty miles,
and down goes the anchor again in Tripoli harbor. At sunrise the Tripoli
boatmen come around the steamer. We are two miles off from the shore and
a rough north wind is blowing. Let us hurry up and get ashore before the
wind increases to a gale, as these North winds are very fierce on the
Syrian coast. Here comes Mustafa, an old boatman, and begs us to take
his felûca. We look over the side of the steamer and see that his boat
is large and clean and agree to take it for twelve piastres or fifty
cents for all of us and our baggage. Then the other boatmen rush up and
scream and curse and try to get us to take their boats, but we say
nothing and push through them and climb down the steps to the boat. The
white caps are rolling and the boat dances finely. Mustafa puts up a
large three-cornered sail, Ali sits at the rudder, and with a stroke or
two of the oars we turn around into the wind and away we dash towards
the shore. The Meena (port) is before us, that white row of houses on
the point; and back among the gardens is the city of Tripoli. In less
than half an hour we reach the shore, but the surf is so high that we
cannot go near the pier, so they make for the sand beach, and before we
reach it, the boat strikes on a little bar and we stop. Out jump the
boatmen, and porters come running half naked from the shore and each
shouts to us to ride ashore on his shoulders. They can carry you and
Harry with ease, but I am always careful how I sit on the shoulders of
these rough fellows. There is Ibrahim on the shore with our animals, and
two mules for the baggage. We shall take beds and bedsteads and cooking
apparatus and provisions and a tent. Ibrahim has bought bread and
potatoes and rice and semin (Arab butter) and smead (farina) and
candles, and a little sugar and salt, and other necessaries. We will
accept Aunt Annie's invitation to breakfast, and then everything will be
ready for a start.

What is the matter with those boys in that dark room? Are they on
rockers? They keep swinging back and forth and screaming at the top of
their voices all at once, and an old blind man sits on one side holding
a long stick. They all sit on the floor and hold books or tin cards in
their hands. This is a Moslem school, and the boys are learning to read
and write. They all study aloud, and the old blind Sheikh knows their
voices so well that when one stops studying, he perceives it, and
reaches his long stick over that way until the boy begins again. When a
boy comes up to him to recite, he has to shout louder than the rest, so
that the Sheikh can distinguish his voice. There, two boys are fighting.
The Sheikh cannot and will not have fighting in his school, and he calls
them up to him. They begin to scream and kick and call for their
mothers, but it is of no use. Sheikh Mohammed will have order. Lie down
there you Mahmoud! Mahmoud lies down, and the Sheikh takes a stick like
a bow with a cord to it, and winds the cord around his ankles. After
twisting the cord as tight as possible, he takes his rod and beats
Mahmoud on the soles of his feet, until the poor boy is almost black in
the face with screaming and pain. Then he serves Saleh in the same way.
This is the _bastinado_ of which you have heard and read. When the
Missionaries started common schools in Syria, the teachers used the
bastinado without their knowledge, though we never allow anything of the
kind. But the boys behave so badly and use such bad language to each
other, that the teacher's patience is often quite exhausted. I heard of
one school where the teacher invited a visitor to hear the boys recite,
and then offered to whip the school all around from the biggest boy to
the smallest, in order to show how well he governed the school! They do
not use the alphabet in the Moslem schools. The boys begin with the
Koran and learn the _words by sight_, without knowing the letters of
which they are composed.

Here come two young men to meet us. Fine lads they are too. One is named
Giurgius, and the other Leopold. When they were small boys, they once
amused me very much. Mr. Yanni, who drew up his flag on the birth of
Barbara, sent Giurgius his son, and Leopold his nephew to the school of
an old man named Hanna Tooma. This old man always slept in the
afternoon, and the boys did not study very well when he was asleep. I
was once at Yanni's house when the boys came home from school. They
were in high glee. One of them said to his father, our teacher slept all
the afternoon, and we appointed a committee of boys to fan him and keep
the flies off while the rest went down into the court to play, and when
he moved we all hushed up until he was sound asleep again. But when he
_did_ wake up, he took the big "Asa" and struck out right and left, and
gave every boy in the school a flogging. The father asked, but why did
he flog them all? Because he said he knew some of us had done wrong and
he was determined to hit the right one, so he flogged us all!

See the piles of fruit in the streets! Grapes and figs, watermelons and
pomegranates, peaches, pears, lemons and bananas. At other seasons of
the year you have oranges, _sweet lemons_, plums, and apricots. There is
fresh fruit on the trees here every week in the year. Now we are passing
a lemonade stand, where iced lemonade is sold for a cent a glass, cooled
with snow from the summit of Mount Lebanon 9000 feet high. Grapes are
about a cent a pound and figs the same, and in March you can buy five
oranges or ten sweet lemons for a cent. Huge watermelons are about eight
or ten cents a piece. We buy so many pounds of milk and oil and potatoes
and charcoal. The prickly pear, or subire, is a delicious fruit,
although covered with sharp barbed spines and thorns. It is full of hard
large woody seeds, but the people are very fond of the fruit. Sheikh
Nasif el Yazijy was a famous Arab poet and scholar, and a young man once
brought him a poem to be corrected. He told him to call in a few days
and get it. He came again and the Sheikh said to him. "Your poem is like
the Missionary's prickly pear!" "The Missionary's prickly pear?" said
the young poet. "What do you mean?" "Why," said the Sheikh, "Dr. ---- a
missionary, when he first came to Syria, had a dish of prickly pears set
before him to eat. Not liking to eat the seeds, he began to pick them
out, and when he had picked out all the seeds, there was nothing left!
So your poem. You asked me to remove the errors, and I found that when I
had taken out all the errors, there was nothing left."

It is about time for us to start. We will ride through the orange
gardens and see the rich fruit bending the trees almost down to the
ground. Steer your way carefully through the crowd of mules, pack
horses, camels and asses loaded with boxes of fruit hastening down to
the Meena for the steamer which goes North to-night.

Here is Yanni, with his happy smiling face coming out to meet us. We
will dismount and greet him. He will kiss us on both cheeks and insist
on our calling at his house. The children are glad to see you, and the
Sitt Karîmeh asks, how are "the preserved of God?" that is, the
_children_. Then the little tots come up to kiss my hand, and Im
Antonius, the old grandmother, comes and greets us most kindly. It was
not always so. She was once very hostile to the Missionaries. She
thought that her son had done a dreadful deed when he became a
Protestant. Although she once loved him, she hated him and hated us.
She used to fast, and make vows, and pray to the Virgin and the saints,
and beat her breast in agony over her son. She had a brother and another
son, who were like her, and they all persecuted Yanni. But he bore it
patiently without an unkind word in return for all their abuse. At
length the brother Ishoc was taken ill. Im Antonius brought the pictures
and put them over his head and called the priests. He said, "Mother,
take away these idols. Send away these priests. Tell my brother Antonius
to come here, I want to ask his forgiveness." Yanni came. Ishoc said to
him, "Brother, your kindness and patience have broken me down. You are
right and I am wrong. I am going to die. Will you forgive me?" "Yes, and
may God forgive and bless you too." "Then bring your Bible and read to
me. Read about some _great_ sinner who was saved." Yanni read about the
dying thief on the cross. "Read it again! Ah, that is my case! I am the
chief of sinners." Every day he kept Yanni reading and praying with him.
He loved to talk about Jesus and at length died trusting in the Saviour!
The uncle Michaiel, was also taken ill, and on his death-bed would have
neither priest nor pictures, and declared to all the people that he
trusted only in the Saviour whom Yanni had loved and served so well.
After that Im Antonius was softened and now she loves to hear Yanni read
the Bible and pray.

The servant is coming with sherbet and sweetmeats and Arabic coffee in
little cups as large as an egg-shell. Did you notice how the marble
floors shine! They are scrubbed and polished, and kept clean by the
industrious women whom you see so gorgeously dressed now. These good
ladies belong to the Akabir, or aristocracy of Tripoli, but they work
most faithfully in their housekeeping duties. But alas, they can neither
read nor write! And there is hardly a woman in this whole city of 16,000
people that can read or write! I once attended a company of invited
guests at one of the wealthy houses in Tripoli, and there were thirty
Tripolitan ladies in the large room, dressed in the most elegant style.
I think you never saw such magnificence. They were dressed in silks and
satins and velvets, embroidered with gold thread and pearls, and their
arms and necks were loaded with gold bracelets and necklaces set with
precious stones, and on their heads were wreaths of gold and silver work
sparkling with diamonds, and fragrant with fresh orange blossoms and
jessamine. Many of them were beautiful. But not one of them could read.
The little boys and girls too are dressed in the same rich style among
the wealthier classes, and they are now beginning to learn. Many of the
little girls who were taught in Sadi's school here thirteen years ago,
are now heads of families, and know how to read the gospel.

Ibrahim comes in to say that we must hurry off if we would reach Halba
to sleep to-night. So we bid Yanni's family good-bye. We tell them "Be
Khaterkum." "By your pleasure," and they say "Ma es Salameh," "with
peace."--Then they say "God smooth your way," and we answer, "Peace to
your lives." Saieed the muleteer now says "Dih, Ooah," to his mules, and
away we ride over the stony pavements and under the dark arches of the
city, towards the East. We cross the bridge over the River Kadisha, go
through the wheat and barley market, and out of the gate Tibbaneh, among
the Moslems, Maronites, Bedawin, Nusairîyeh, Gypsies, and Greeks, who
are buying and selling among the Hamath and Hums caravans.

Do you see those boys playing by the stone wall? They are catching
scorpions. They put a little wax on a stick and thrust it into the holes
in the wall, and the scorpions run their claws into the wax when they
are easily drawn out, and the boys like to play with them. The sting of
the scorpion is not deadly, but it is very painful, something like being
stung by half a dozen hornets.

Here come a company of Greek priests, with the Greek bishop of Akkar.
The priests are all Syrians but the bishop is from Greece, and knows but
little Arabic. The priests are very ignorant, for they are generally
chosen from among the lowest of the people.

When the former Greek Bishop died in Tripoli, in 1858, his dead body was
dressed in cloth of gold, with a golden crown on his head, and then the
corpse was set up in a chair in the midst of the Greek Church, with the
face and hands uncovered so that all the people could see him. The
fingers were all black and bloated, but the men, women and children
crowded up to kiss them. When the body was taken from the city to Deir
Keftin, three miles distant the Greek mountaineers came down in a rabble
to get the blessing from the corpse. And how do you think they got the
blessing? They attacked the bearers and knocked off pieces of the
coffin, and then carried off the pall and tore it in pieces, fighting
for it like hungry wolves. A number of people were wounded. After the
burial they dug up the earth for some distance around the tomb, and
carried it off to be used as medicine. A little girl brought a piece of
the bishop's handkerchief to my house, hearing that some one was ill,
saying that if we would burn it and drink the ashes in water, we would
be instantly cured.

The Syrians have a good many stories about their priests, which they
laugh about, and yet they obey them, no matter how ignorant they are.
Abû Selim in the Meena used to tell me this story: Once there was a
priest who did not know how to count. This was a great trial to him, as
the Greeks have so many fasts and feasts that it is necessary to count
all the time or get into trouble. They have a long fast called _Soum el
kebîr_, and it is sometimes nearly sixty days long. One year the fast
commenced, and the priest had blundered so often that he went to the
bishop and asked him to teach him some way to count the days to the
Easter feast. The bishop told him it would be forty days, and gave him
forty kernels of "hummus," or peas, telling him to put them into his
pocket and throw one out every day, and when they were all gone, to
proclaim the feast! This was a happy plan for the poor priest, and he
went on faithfully throwing away one pea every day, until one day he
went to a neighboring village. In crossing the stream he fell from his
donkey into the mud, and his black robe was grievously soiled. The good
woman of the house where he slept, told him to take off his robe and she
would clean it in the night. So after he was asleep she arose and washed
it clean, but found to her sorrow that she had destroyed the peas in the
priest's pocket. Poor priest, said she, he has lost all his peas which
he had for lunch on the road! But I will make it up to him. So she went
to her earthen jar and took a big double handful of hummus and put them
into the priest's pocket, and said no more. He went on his way and threw
out a pea every morning for weeks and weeks. At length, some of his
fellaheen heard that the feast had begun in another village, and told
the Priest. Impossible, said he. My pocket is half full yet. Others came
and said, will you keep us fasting all the year? He only replied, look
into my pocket. Are you wiser than the Bishop? At length some one went
and told the Bishop that the priest was keeping his people fasting for
twenty days after the time. And then the story leaked out, and the poor
woman told how she had filled up the pocket, and the bishop saw that
there was no use in trying to teach the man to count.

See the reapers in the field, and the women gleaning after them, just
as Ruth did so many thousand years ago! On this side is a "lodge in a
garden of cucumbers."

Now we come down upon the sea-shore again, and on our right is the great
plain of Akkar, level as a floor, and covered with fields of Indian corn
and cotton. Flocks and herds and Arab camps of black tents are scattered
over it. Here is a shepherd-boy playing on his "zimmara" or pipe, made
of two reeds tied together and perforated. He plays on it hour after
hour and day after day, as he leads his sheep and goats or cattle along
the plain or over the mountains. You do not like it much, any more than
he would like a melodeon or a piano. When King David was a shepherd-boy
he played on such a pipe as this as he wandered over the mountains of
Judea.

Now we turn away from the sea and go eastward to Halba. Before long we
cross the river Arka on a narrow stone bridge, and pass a high hill
called "Tel Arka." Here the Arkites lived, who are mentioned in Genesis
x:17. That was four thousand two hundred years ago. What a chain of
villages skirt this plain! The people build their villages on the hills
for protection and health, but go down to plough and sow and feed their
flocks to the rich level plain. Now we cross a little stream of water,
and look up the ravine, and there is Ishoc's house perched on the side
of the hill opposite Halba. Ishoc and his wife Im Hanna, come out to
meet us, and he helps us pitch the tent by the great fig tree near his
house. We unroll the tent, splice the tent pole, open the bag of tent
pins, get the mallet, and although the wind is blowing hard, we will
drive the pegs so deep that there will be no danger of its blowing over.

Abû Hanna, or Ishoc, is a noble Christian man, one of the best men in
Syria. He has suffered very much for Christ's sake. The Greeks in the
village on the hill have tried to poison him. They hired Nusairy
Mughlajees to shoot him. They cut down his trees at night, and pulled up
his plantations of vegetables. They came at night and tore up the roof
of his house, and shot through at him but did not hit him. But the
Mohammedan Begs over there always help him, because he is an honest man,
and aids them in their business and accounts. When the Greeks began to
persecute him, they told him to fire a gun whenever they came about his
house, and they would come over and fight for him. They even offered to
go up and burn the Greek village and put an end to these persecutions.
But Ishoc would not let them. He said, "Mohammed Beg, you know I am a
Christian, not like these Greeks who lie and steal and kill, but I
follow the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, who said, 'Love your
enemies,' and I do not wish to injure one of them." The Begs were
astonished at this, and went away, urging him if there were any more
trouble at night to fire his gun and they would come over from Halba at
once.

I love this good man Ishoc. His pure life, his patience and gentleness
have preached to these wild people in Akkar, more than all the sermons
of the missionaries.

Would you like to see Im Hanna make bread for our supper? That hole in
the ground, lined with plaster, is the oven, and the flames are pouring
out. They heat it with thorns and thistles. She sits by the oven with a
flat stone at her side, patting the lumps of dough into thin cakes like
wafers as large as the brim of your straw hat. Now the fire is burning
out and the coals are left at the bottom of the oven, as if they were in
the bottom of a barrel. She takes one thin wafer on her hand and sticks
it on the smooth side of the oven, and as it bakes it curls up, but
before it drops off into the coals, she pulls it out quickly and puts
another in its place. How sweet and fresh the bread is! It is made of
Indian corn. She calls it "khubs dura." Abû Hanna says that we must eat
supper with them to-night. They are plain fellaheen, and have neither
tables, chairs, knives nor forks. They have a few wooden spoons, and a
few plates. But hungry travellers and warm-hearted friendship will make
the plainest food sweet and pleasant.

Supper is ready now, and we will go around to Abû Hanna's house for he
has come to tell us that "all things are ready." The house is one low
room, about sixteen by twenty feet. The ceiling you see is of logs
smoked black and shining as if they had been varnished. Above the logs
are flat stones and thorns, on which earth is piled a foot deep. In the
winter this earth is rolled down with a heavy stone roller to keep out
the rain. In many of the houses the family, cattle, sheep, calves and
horses sleep in the same room. The family sleep in the elevated part of
the room along the edge of which is a trough into which they put the
barley for the animals. This is the "medhwad" or manger, such as the
infant Jesus was laid in. We will now accept Im Hanna's kind invitation
to supper. The plates are all on a small tray on a mat in the middle of
the floor, and there are four piles of bread around the edge. There is
one cup of water for us all to drink from, and each one has a wooden
spoon. But Abû Hanna, you will see, prefers to eat without a spoon.
After the blessing is asked in Arabic, Abû Hanna says, "tefudduloo,"
which means help yourselves. Here is kibby, and camel stew, and Esau's
pottage, and olives, and rice, and figs cooked in dibbs, and chicken
boiled to pieces, and white fresh cheese, and curdled milk, and fried
eggs.

Kibby is the Arab plum pudding and mince pie and roast beef all in one.
It is made by pounding meat in a mortar with wheat, until both are mixed
into a soft pulp and then dressed with nuts and onions and butter, and
baked or roasted in cakes over the fire. Dr. Thomson thinks that this
dish is alluded to in Prov. 27:22, "Though thou shouldest bray a fool in
a mortar among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness depart
from him." That is, put the fool into Im Hanna's stone mortar with wheat
and pound him into kibby, and he would still remain a fool! It takes
something besides pounding to get the folly out of foolish men.

You see there are no separate plates for us. We all help ourselves from
the various dishes as we prefer. Abû Hanna wants you to try the
"mejeddara," made of "oddis." It is like thick pea soup, but with a
peculiar flavor. This is what Jacob made the pottage of, when he tempted
Esau and bought his birthright. I hope you will like it, but I do not.
After seventeen years of trying, I am not able to enjoy it, but Harry
will eat all he can get, and the little Arab children revel in it. You
make poor work with that huge wooden spoon. You had better try Abû
Hanna's way of eating. Many better men than any of us have eaten in that
way, and I suppose our Saviour and his disciples ate as Abû Hanna eats.
He tears off a small piece of the thin wafer-like bread, doubles it into
a kind of three cornered spoon, dips it into the rice, or picks up a
piece of kibby with it, and then eats it down, spoon and all! Im Hanna
says I am afraid those little boys do not like our food, so she makes a
spoon and dips up a nice morsel of the chicken, and comes to you and
says "minshan khatri," for my sake, eat this, and you open your mouth
and she puts it in. That is the way our Saviour dipped the "sop" and put
it into the mouth of Judas Iscariot to show the disciples which one it
was. Giving the sop was a common act, and I have no doubt Jesus had
often given it to John and Peter and the other disciples, as a kindly
act, when they were eating together.

Im Hanna is fixing the lamp. It is a little earthen saucer having a lip
on one side, with the wick hanging over. The wick just began to smoke
and she poured in more olive oil, and it burns brightly again. Do you
remember what the prophet Isaiah (42:3) said, "a bruised reed shall he
not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench." This is quoted in
Matt. 12 of our Lord Jesus. The word flax means _wick_. It is "fetileh"
in Arabic, and this is just what Im Hanna has been doing. She saw the
wick smoking and flickering, and instead of blowing it out and quenching
it, she brought the oil flask, and gently poured in the clear olive oil
and you saw how quickly the flame revived. So our Lord would have us
learn from Him. When the flame of our faith and love is almost dead and
nothing remains but the smoking flickering wick, He does not quench it,
and deal harshly with us, but he comes in all gentleness and love and
pours in the oil of His grace, and then our faith revives and we live
again.




PART III.


Here come some little Bedawin gypsy children. One is laughing at my hat.
He never saw one before and he calls me "Abû Suttle," the "father of a
Pail," and wonders why I carry a pail on my head. The people love to use
the word Abû, [father] or Im, [mother]. They call a musquito Abû Fas,
the father of an axe. The centipede is "Im Arba wa Arb-ain; "The
mother of forty-four legs." The Arabic poet Hariri calls a _table_ the
"father of assembling;" _bread_, the "father of pleasantness;" a _pie_,
"the mother of joyfulness," _salt_, "the father of help," _soap_ the
"father of softness;" Death is called by the Arab poets, "Father of the
Living," because all the living are subject to him.

After breakfast we will start for Safîta. You see that snow-white dome
on the hill-top! and another on the next hill under that huge oak tree,
and then another and another. These are called Nebi or Ziarat or Wely.
Each one contains one or more tombs of Nusairy saints or sheikhs, and
the poor women visit them and burn lamps and make vows to the saints who
they think live in them. They know nothing of Christ, and when they feel
sad and troubled and want comfort they enter the little room under the
white dome, and there they call, "O Jafar et Tîyyar hear me! O Sheikh
Hassan hear me!"

This is just as the old Canaanite women used to go up and worship on
every high hill, and under every green tree, thousands of years ago, and
these poor Nusairîyeh are thought to be the descendants of the old
Canaanites.

Here come men on horseback to visit that "ziyara." Up they go to the
little room with the white dome, and all dismount. The old sheikh who
has charge, comes out to meet them. They are pilgrims and have to make
vows and bring offerings. One had a sick son and he once vowed that if
his son got well he would bring a sheep and a bushel of wheat as an
offering to this shrine. So there is the sheep on one of the horses, and
that mule is bringing the wheat. If the old sheikh has many such
visitors he will grow rich. Some of them do. And yet the people laugh at
these holy places, and tell some strange stories about them. One of the
stories is as follows:--

Once upon a time there was a great Sheikh Ali, a holy man, who kept a
holy tomb of an ancient prophet. The tomb was on a hill under a big oak
tree, and the white dome could be seen for miles around. Lamps were kept
burning day and night in the tomb, and if any one extinguished them,
they were miraculously lighted again. Men with sore eyes came to visit
it and were cured. The earth around the tomb was carried off to be used
as medicine. Women came and tied old rags on the limbs of the tree, as
vows to the wonderful prophet. Nobody knew the name of the prophet, but
the tomb was called "Kobr en Nebi," or "tomb of the prophet." A green
cloth was spread over the tomb under the dome, and incense was sold by
the sheikh to those who wished to heal their sick, or drive out evil
spirits from their houses. Pilgrims came from afar to visit the holy
place, and its fame extended over all the land. Sheikh Ali was becoming
a rich man, and all the pilgrims kissed his hand and begged his
blessing. Now Sheikh Ali had a faithful servant named Mohammed, who had
served him long and well. But Mohammed was weary of living in one place,
and asked permission to go and seek his fortune in distant parts. So
Sheikh Ali gave him his blessing and presented him with a donkey, which
he had for many years, that he might ride when tired of walking. Then
Mohammed set out on his journey. He went through cities and towns and
villages, and at last came out on the mountains east of the Jordan in a
desert place. No village or house was in sight and night came on. Tired,
hungry and discouraged poor Mohammed lay down by his donkey on a great
pile of stones and fell asleep. In the morning he awoke, and alas his
donkey was dead. He was in despair, but his kindly nature would not let
the poor brute lie there to be devoured by jackals and vultures, so he
piled a mound of stones over its body and sat down to weep.

While he was weeping, a wealthy Hajji or pilgrim came along, on his
return from Mecca. He was surprised to see a man alone in this
wilderness, and asked him why he was weeping? Mohammed replied, O Hajji,
I have found the tomb of a holy prophet, and I have vowed to be its
keeper, but I am in great need. The Hajji thanked him for the news, and
dismounted to visit the holy place, and gave Mohammed a rich present.
After he had gone Mohammed hastened to the nearest village and bought
provisions and then returned to his holy prophet's tomb. The Hajji
spread the news, and pilgrims thronged to the spot with rich presents
and offerings. As money came in Mohammed brought masons and built a
costly tomb with a tall white dome that could be seen across the Jordan.
He lived in a little room by the tomb, and soon the miraculous lights
began to appear in the tomb at night, which Mohammed had kindled when no
one was near. He increased in fame and wealth, and the Prophet's tomb
became one of the great shrines of the land.

At length Sheikh Ali heard of the fame of the new holy place in the
desert, and as his own visitors began to fall off, decided to go himself
and gain the merit of a visit to the tomb of that famous prophet. When
he arrived there with his rich presents of green cloth, incense and
money, he bowed in silence to pray towards Mecca, when suddenly he
recognized in the holy keeper of the tomb, his old servant Mohammed.
"Salam alaykoom" said Sheikh Ali. "Alaykoom es Salam," replied Mohammed.
When he asked him how he came here, and how he found this tomb, Mohammed
replied, this "tomb is a great "sirr" or mystery, and I am forbidden to
utter the secret." "But you _must_ tell _me_," said Sheikh Ali, "for I
am a father to you." Mohammed refused and Ali insisted, until at length
Mohammed said, "my honored Sheikh, you remember having given me a
donkey. It was a faithful donkey, and when it died I buried it. This is
the tomb of that donkey!" "Mashallah! Mashallah!" said Sheikh Ali. The
will of Allah be done! Then they ate and drank together, and renewed the
memory of their former life, and then Sheikh Mohammed said to Sheikh
Ali, "My master, as I have told you the 'sirr' of my prophet's tomb, I
wish to know the secret of yours." "Impossible," said Ali, "for that is
one of the ancient mysteries, too sacred to be mentioned by mortal
lips." "But you _must_ tell me, even as I have told you." At length the
old Sheikh Ali stroked his snowy beard, adjusted his white turban, and
whispered to Mohammed, "and my holy place is the _tomb of that donkey's
father_!" "Mashallah," said Mohammed, "may Allah bless the beard of the
holy donkeys!"

The people tell this story, which shows, that they ridicule and despise
their holy places, and yet are too superstitious to give them up. The
great thing with the sheiks who keep them is _the piastres_ they make
from the visitors.

As we go up the hill to Safita, you see the tall, beautiful Burj, or
Crusader's tower, built as were many of the castles and towers whose
ruins you see on the hills about here, by the French and English eight
hundred years ago, to keep down the wild and rebellious people. The
Protestant Church is at the east. These are two watch towers. One was
built for warriors who fought with sword and spear, and the other for
the simple warfare of the gospel. You may depend upon it, we shall have
a welcome here. It is nearly sunset, and the people are coming in from
their fields and pastures and vineyards. Daûd and Nicola, and Michaiel,
Soleyman, Ibrahim, and Yusef, Miriam, Raheel and Nejmy and crowds of
others with a throng of little ragged boys and girls, come running to
greet us. "Praise God we have seen you in peace!" "Ehelan wa Sehelan,"
"Welcome and Welcome!" "Be preferred!" "Honor us with your presence!"
"How is your state?" "Inshullah you are all well!" "How are those you
left behind?" "How are the preserved of God?" "I hope you are not
wearied with the long ride, this hot day?" "From whence have you come,
in peace?" "What happy day is this to Safita!" and we answer as fast as
we can, and dismount and pitch the tent in front of the church door, in
the little plot of ground next to the houses of some of the brethren.
The church is built of cream colored limestone, the same color as the
great Burj, and contrasts strongly with the houses of the people. Did
you ever see such houses? They are hardly high enough to stand up in,
and are built of roundish boulders of black trap-rock, without lime, and
look as if the least jar would tumble them all down. Each house has but
one room, and here the cattle, goats and donkeys all sleep in the same
room. The people are poorer than any fellaheen (peasants) you ever saw.
There is not a chair or table in the village, unless the Beshoor family
have them. They are the only wealthy people here, and in years past they
have oppressed the Protestants in the most cruel manner. Beshoor had a
lawsuit with the people about the land of the village. It belonged to
them, and he wanted it. So he brought Government horsemen and drove them
off their lands and took the crops himself. They thought they would try
a new way to get justice. The Government officials were all bribed, so
there was no hope there. So they decided to turn Protestants and get aid
in that way. They did not know what the Protestant religion was, but
had some idea that it would help them. Down they went to Tripoli to the
missionaries with a list of three hundred persons who wanted to become
Angliz or Protestants. The people sometimes call us Angliz, or English,
others call us "Boostrant" or "Brostant," but the common name is
"Injiliyeen" or people of the Enjeel, or Evangel, that is, the
Evangelicals.

Dr. Post and your Uncle Samuel came up to Safita to look into the
matter. They found the people grossly ignorant and living like cattle,
calling themselves Protestants and knowing nothing of the gospel. So
they sent a teacher and began to teach them. When the people found that
the missionaries did not come to distribute money, some of them went
back to the Greeks. But others said no; this new religion is more than
we expected. The more we hear, the more we like it. We shall live and
die Protestants. Then Beit Beshoor became alarmed. They said, if this
people get a school, have a teacher, and read the Bible, we cannot
oppress them. They must be kept down in ignorance. So they began in
earnest. The Protestants were arrested and dragged off to Duraikish to
prison. Women and children were beaten. Brutal horsemen were quartered
on their houses. That means, that a rough fellow, armed with pistols and
a sword came to the house of Abû Asaad, and stayed two weeks. He made
them cook chickens, and bring eggs and bread and everything he wanted
every day, and bring barley for his horse. The poor man had no barley
and had to buy, and the Greeks would make him pay double price for it.
When he could get no more he was beaten and his wife insulted, and so it
was in almost every Protestant house. They began to love the Gospel, and
the men who knew how to read, would meet to read and pray together. One
evening, all the Protestants met together in one of the houses. Their
sufferings were very great. Their winter stores had been plundered,
their olives gathered by Beit Beshoor, and they talked and prayed over
their trouble. It was a dark, cold, rainy night, and the wind blew a
gale. While they were talking together, a man came rushing in crying,
run for your lives! the horsemen are here! Before they could get out, a
squad of wild looking wretches were at the door. The men fled, carrying
the larger children and the women carrying the babies, and off they went
into the wilderness in the storm and darkness. Some women were seized
and tied by ropes around their waists, to the horsemen, and marched off
for miles to prison. The men who were caught were put in chains. Some
time later they got back home again. But they would not give up the
Gospel. Beshoor sent men who told them they could have peace if they
would only go back to the Greek Church. But he offered peace quite too
late. They had now learned to love the Gospel, and it was worth more to
them than all the world beside. One night they were assembled in a
little low black house, when some men came to the door and threw in
burning bundles of straw and then shut the door, so that they were
almost stifled with the smoke. They sent a messenger to Beirût. The
case was laid before the Pasha, and he telegraphed to have the
Protestants let alone. But Beshoor cared for nothing. A Nusairy was
hired to shoot Abû Asaad, the leading Protestant. His house was visited
in the daytime, and the man saw where Abû Asaad's bed was placed. In the
night he came stealthily upon the roof, dug a hole through, and fired
three bullets at the spot. But see how God protects his people! That
evening Abû Asaad said to his wife; the floor is getting damp in the
corner, let us remove the bed and mat to the other side. They did so,
and when the man fired, the bullets went into the ground just where Abû
Asaad had slept the night before! He ran out and saw the assassins and
recognized one of them as the servant of Beshoor's son. The next day he
complained to the Government and they refused to hear him because he did
not bring witnesses!

But the poor people would not give up. Every day they went to their
fields, carrying their Testaments in their girdles and at noontime would
read and find comfort. Their children were half naked and half starved.
When word reached Beirût, the native Protestant women met together and
collected several hundred piastres (a piastre is four cents) for the
women and girls of Safita. They made up a bale of clothing, and sent
with it a very touching and kind letter, telling their poor persecuted
sisters to bear their trials in patience, and put all their trust in the
Lord Jesus. That aid, together with the contributions made by the
missionaries and others in Beirût, gave them some relief, and the kind
words of sympathy strengthened their hearts. The school was kept up amid
all these troubles. One of the boys was taught in Abeih Seminary, and
two of the girls were sent to the Beirût Female Seminary.

You would have been amused to see those girls when they first reached
Beirût. They walked barefoot from Safita down to Tripoli, about forty
miles, and then Uncle S. took them on to Beirût. He bought shoes for
them, and hired two little donkeys for them to ride, but they preferred
to walk a part of the way, and would carry their shoes in their hands
and run along the sandy beach in the surf, far ahead of the animals. I
rode out to meet them, and they were a sorry sight to see. Uncle S. rode
a forlorn-looking horse, and two ragged men from Safita walked by his
side, followed by two ragged fat-faced girls riding on little donkeys.
The girls were almost bewildered at the city sights and scenes. Soon we
met a carriage, and they were so frightened that they turned pale, and
their donkeys were almost paralyzed with fear. One of the little girls,
when asked if she knew what that was, said it was a mill walking.

The first few days in school they were so homesick for Safita that they
ran away several times. They could not bear to be washed and combed and
sent to the Turkish bath, but wanted to come back here among the goats
and calves and donkeys. One night they went to their room and cried
aloud. Rufka, the teacher, asked them what they wanted? They said,
pointing to the white beds, "We don't like these white things to sleep
on. We don't want to stay here. There are no calves and donkeys, and the
room is so light and cold!" The people here in Safita think that the
cattle help to keep the room warm. In the daytime they complained of
being tired of sitting on the seats to study, and wished to _stand up
and rest_. One was 11 and the other 12 years old, and that was in 1865.

One of them, Raheel, fell sick after a time, and was much troubled about
her sins. Her teacher Sara, who slept near her, overheard her praying
and saying, "Oh Lord Jesus, do give me a new heart! I am a poor sinner.
Do you suppose that because I am from Safita, you cannot give me a new
heart? O Lord, I _know_ you can. Do have mercy on me!"

Who are those clean and well dressed persons coming out of the church?
Our dear brother Yusef Ahtiyeh, the native preacher, and his wife Hadla,
and Miriam, the teacher of the girls' school. Yusef is one of the most
refined and lovely young men in Syria. What a clear eye he has, and what
a pleasant face! He too has borne much for his Master. In 1865, when he
left the Greek Church, he was living with his brother in Beirût. His
brother turned him out of the house at night, with neither bed nor
clothing. He came to my house and staid with me some time. He said it
was hard to be driven out by his brother and mother, but he could bear
anything for Christ's sake. Said he, "I can bear cursing and beating and
the loss of property. But my mother is weeping and wailing over me. She
thinks I am a heretic and am lost forever. Oh, it is hard to bear, the
'persecution of tears!'" But the Lord gave him grace to bear it, and he
is now the happy spiritual guide of this large Protestant community, and
the Nusairy Sheikhs look up to him with respect, while that persecuting
brother of his is poverty-stricken and sick, and can hardly get bread
for his children.

Miriam, the teacher, is a heroine. Her parents were Greeks, but sent her
to school to learn to read. She learned in a short time to read the New
Testament, and to love it, and to keep the Sabbath day holy. The keeping
of the Sabbath was something new in Safita. The Nusairîyeh have no holy
day at all, and the Greeks have so many that they keep none of them.
They work and buy and sell and travel on the Sabbath as on other days,
and think far more of certain saint's days than of the Sabbath. When
Miriam was only seven years old, her father said to her one Sabbath
morning, "go with me to the hursh (forest) to get a donkey load of
wood." She replied, "my father, I cannot go, it is not right, for it is
God's day." The father went without her, and while cutting wood, his
donkey strayed away, and he had to search through the mountains for
hours, so that he did not reach home until twelve o'clock at night, and
then without any wood. He said he should not go for wood on Sunday any
more.

But a few Sundays after, it was the olive season, and Miriam's mother
told her to go out with the women and girls to gather olives. They had
been at work during the week, and the mother thought Miriam ought to go
on Sunday with the rest. But Miriam said, "don't you remember father's
losing the donkey, and what he said about it? I cannot go." "Then," said
her mother, "if you will not work, you shall not eat." "Very well, ya
imme, I will not eat. If I keep the Lord's day, He will keep me." Away
went the mother to the olive orchard, and Miriam went to the preaching
and the Sunday School. At evening, when the family all came home, Miriam
read in her New Testament and went to bed without her supper. The next
morning she said, "Mother, now I am ready to gather olives. Didn't I
tell you the Lord would keep me?"

After this Miriam's father became a Protestant, and allowed the
missionaries to send her to the Seminary in Sidon, where she was the
best girl in the school. When she went home in the vacation in 1869, new
persecutions were stirred up against the Protestants. The Greek Bishop,
with a crowd of priests and a body of armed horsemen, came to the
village, to compel all the Protestants to turn back to the old religion.
The armed men went to the Protestant houses and seized men and women and
dragged them to the great Burj, in which is the Greek church. Miriam's
father and mother were greatly terrified and went back with them to the
Greeks. They then called for Miriam. "Never," said she to the Bishop, "I
will never worship pictures and pray to saints again. You may cut me in
pieces, but I will not stir one step with them." The old Bishop turned
back, and left her to herself. Near by was a man named Abû Isbir, who
was so frightened that he said, "yes, I will go back, don't strike me!"
But his wife, Im Isbir, was not willing to give up. She rebuked her
husband and took hold of his arm, and actually dragged him back to his
house, to save him the shame of having denied the Gospel. He stood firm,
and afterwards united with the Church.

Here comes Im Isbir. Poor woman, she is a widow now. Her husband died
and left her with these little children, and last night her valuable cow
died, and she is in great distress. Yusef, the preacher, says she is the
most needy person in Safita. You would think so from the ragged
appearance of the children. They are like the children in Eastern
Turkey, whom Mr. Williams of Mardin used to describe, whose garments
were so ragged and tattered that there was hardly cloth enough to _make
borders for the holes_! They dig up roots in the fields for food, and
now and then the neighbors give them a little of their coarse corn
bread. The Greeks tell her to turn back to them and they will help her,
but she says, "when one has found the light, can she turn back into the
darkness again?" Yusef wishes us to walk in and sit down, as the people
are anxious to see us. He lives in the church from necessity. He cannot
get a house in the village, excepting these dark cavern-like rooms with
damp floors, and so the missionaries told him to occupy one half of the
church room. A curtain divides it into two rooms and on Sunday the
curtain is drawn, his things are piled up on one side, and the women and
girls sit in that part, while the men and boys sit on the other side.
All sit on mats on the floor. Is that cradle hanging from the ring in
the arch between the two rooms, kept there on Sunday? Yes, and when I
preached here last June, Yusef's baby was swinging there during the
whole service. One of the women kept it swinging gently, by pulling a
cord, which hung down from it. It did not disturb the meeting at all. No
one noticed it. They have calves and cows, donkeys and goats in their
own houses at night, and sleep sweetly enough, so that the swinging of a
hanging cradle in the inside of the church is not thought to be at all
improper.

Do you see that shelf on the wall? It reminds me of a little girl named
Miriam who once came to your Aunt Annie in Deir Mimas to ask about the
Sidon school, whither she was going in a few weeks. She told Miriam that
she would have to be thoroughly washed and combed every day, and would
sleep on a _bedstead_. Then Miriam asked permission to see a bedstead,
as she did not know what it could be. The next night, about midnight,
Miriam's mother heard something drop heavily on the floor, and then a
child crying. She went across the room, and there was Miriam sitting on
the mat. "What is the matter, Miriam?" she asked. Miriam said, "mother,
the Sit told me I was to sleep on a bedstead in Sidon school, and I
thought I would practice beforehand, so I tried to sleep on the shelf,
and tumbled off in my sleep!"

Abû Asaad says the Nusairy Sheikh who was arrested some months ago has
been poisoned. Poisoning used to be very common in Syria. If we should
call at the house of a Nusairy, and he brought coffee for us to drink,
he would take a sip himself out of the cup before giving it to us, to
show that it was not poisoned. Once Uncle S. and Aunt A. were invited
out to dine in Hums at the house of the deacon of the church. His mother
is an ignorant woman, and had often threatened to kill him. When they
had eaten, they suddenly were taken ill, and suffered much from the
effects of it. It was found that the mother had put poison into the
food, intending to kill her son, the missionaries, and the other invited
guests, but through the mercy of God none of them were seriously
injured.

Michaiel says that they have only half a crop of corn this year, as the
_locusts_ devoured the other half in the spring. You remember I sent you
some locusts' wings once, in a letter. When they appear in the land, the
Pashas and Mudirs and Kaimakams give orders to the people to go out and
gather the eggs of the locusts as soon as they begin to settle down to
bury themselves in the earth. The body of the female locust is like the
spawn of a fish, filled with one mass of eggs. Each man is obliged to
bring so many ounces of these eggs to the Pasha and have them weighed
and then burned. A tailor of Beirût brought a bag of them, and as it was
late, put them in his shop for the night and went home. He was unwell
for a few days and when he went to his shop again, opened the door, and
thousands of little black hopping creatures, like imps, came like a
cloud into his face. They had hatched out in his absence.

This is a fearful land for lying; in these mountains around us, you
cannot depend on a word you hear. The people say that in the beginning
of the world, Satan came down to the earth with seven bags of lies,
which he intended to distribute in the seven kingdoms of the earth. The
first night after he reached the earth he slept in Syria, and opened one
of the bags, letting the lies loose in the land. But while he was
asleep, some one came and opened all the other bags! so that Syria got
more than her share!

An old man in Beirût once said, "Sir, you must be careful what you
believe, and whom you trust in this country. If there are twenty-four
inches of hypocrisy in the world, twenty-three are in Syria." This man
was a native of great experience. I think he was rather severe on his
countrymen. Yet the people have had a hard training. The Nusairîyeh all
lie. They do not even pretend to tell the truth. The Druze religion
teaches the people that it is right to lie to all except Druzes. The
Moslems are better than either of these two classes, but they lie
without a blush, and you must be very careful how you believe them.

Among the Maronite and Greek sects, their priests tell the people that
they can forgive sins. When a man lies or steals or does anything else
that is wicked, he pays a few piastres to the priest, who gives him what
they call absolution or forgiveness. So the people can do what they
please without fear, as the priest is ready to forgive them for money.
These sects call themselves Christian, but there is very little of
Christianity among them. A Greek in Tripoli once told me that there was
not a man in the Greek church in Tripoli who would not lie, excepting
_one_ of the priests.

Leaving Safita, we will go back on a different road, crossing directly
to the sea-shore, and then along the coast to Tripoli. Here is a little
abject village, and the people look as abject as the village. Their
neighbors laugh at them for their stupidity, and tell the following
story: They have no wells in the village, and the little fountain is not
sufficient for their cattle, so they water them from the Ramet or pool,
which is filled by the rains and lasts nearly all summer. One year the
water in the Ramet began to fail, and there was a quarrel between the
two quarters of the village, as to which part should have the first
right to the water. Finally they decided to divide the pool into two
parts, by making a fence of poles across the middle of it. This worked
very well. One part watered their cattle on one side and the other part
on the other side. But one night there was a great riot in the village.
Some of the men from the north side saw a south-sider dipping up water
from the north side and pouring it over the fence into the other part
of the pool. Of course this made no difference, as the fence was nothing
but open lattice work, but the people were too stupid to see that, so
they fought and bruised one another for a long time.

In another village, _Aaleih_, near Beirût, the people were formerly so
stupid that the Arabs say that once when the clouds came up the
mountains and settled like a bank of fog under the cliff on which their
village is built, they thought it was the sea, and went to fish in the
clouds!

So you see the Syrians are as fond of humorous stories as other people.




PART IV.


But here we are coming upon a gypsy camp. The Arabs call them Nowar, and
you will find that the Arab women of the villages are careful to keep an
eye on their little children when the gypsies are around. They often
steal children in the towns and cities, when they can find them straying
away from home at dusk, and then sell them as servants in Moslem
families. Last year we were all greatly interested in a story of this
kind, which I know you will be glad to hear.

After the terrible massacre in Damascus in 1860, thousands of the Greek
and Greek Catholic families migrated to Beirût, and among them was a man
named Khalil Ferah, who escaped the fire and sword with his wife and
his little daughter Zahidy. I remember well how we were startled one
evening in 1862, by hearing a crier going through the streets, "child
lost! girl lost!" The next day he came around again, "child lost!" There
was great excitement about it. The poor father and mother went almost
frantic. Little Zahidy, who was then about six years old, was coming
home from school with other girls in the afternoon, and they said a man
came along with a sack on his back, and told Zahidy that her mother had
sent him to buy her some sugar plums and then take her home, and she
went away with him. It is supposed that he decoyed her away to some
by-road and then put her into the great sack, and carried her off to the
Arabs or the gypsies.

The poor father left no means untried to find her. He wrote to Damascus,
Alexandria, and Aleppo, describing the child and begged his friends
everywhere to watch for her, and send him word if they found her. There
was one mark on the child, which, he said, would be certain to
distinguish her. When she was a baby, and nursing at her mother's
breast, her mother upset a little cup of scalding hot coffee upon the
child's breast, which burned it to a blister, leaving a scar which could
not be removed. This sign the father described, and his friends aided
him in trying to find the little girl. They went to the encampments of
the gypsies and looked at all the children, but all in vain. The father
journeyed by land and by sea. Hearing of a little girl in Aleppo who
could not give an account of herself, he went there, but it was not his
child. Then he went to Damascus and Alexandria, and at length hearing
that a French Countess in Marseilles had a little Syrian orphan girl
whose parents were not known, he sent to Marseilles and examined the
girl, but she was _not his child_. Months and years passed on, but the
father never ceased to speak and think of that little lost girl. The
mother too was almost distracted.

At length light came. Nine years had passed away, and the Beirût people
had almost forgotten the story of the lost Damascene girl. Your uncle S.
and your Aunt A. were sitting in their house one day, in Tripoli, when
Tannoos, the boy, brought word that a man and woman from Beirût wished
to see them. They came in and introduced themselves. They were Khalil,
the father of the little lost girl, and his sister, who had heard that
Zahidy was in Tripoli, and had come to search for her. The mother was
not able to leave home.

It seems that a native physician in Tripoli, named Sheikh Aiub el
Hashim, was an old friend of the father and had known the family and all
the circumstances of the little girl's disappearance, and for years he
had been looking for her. At length he was called one day to attend a
sick servant girl in the family of a Moslem named Syed Abdullah. The
poor girl was ill from having been beaten in a cruel manner by the
Moslem. Her face and arms were tattooed in the Bedawin style, and she
told him that she was a Bedawin girl, and had been living here for some
years, and her name was Khodra. While examining the bruises on her body,
he observed a peculiar scar on her breast. He was startled. He looked
again. It was precisely the scar that his friend had so often described
to him. From her age, her features, her complexion and all, he felt sure
that she was the lost child. He said nothing, but went home and wrote
all about it to the father in Beirût. He hastened to Tripoli bringing
his sister, as he being a man, could not be admitted to a Moslem hareem.
Then the question arose, how should the sister see the girl! They came
and talked with your uncle, and went to Yanni and the other Vice
Consuls, and at length they found out that the women of that Moslem
family were skillful in making silk and gold embroidery which they sold.
So his sister determined to go and order some embroidered work, and see
the girl. She talked with the Moslem women, and with their Bedawy
servant girl, and made errands for the women to bring her specimens of
their work, improving the opportunity to talk with the servant. She saw
the scar, and satisfied herself from the striking resemblance of the
girl to her mother, that she was the long-lost Zahidy.

The father now took measures to secure his daughter. The American,
Prussian, English and French Vice Consuls sent a united demand to the
Turkish Pasha, that the girl be brought to court to meet her father, and
that the case be tried in the Mejlis, or City Council. The Moslems were
now greatly excited. They knew that there were not less than twenty
girls in their families who had been stolen in this way, and if one
could be reclaimed, perhaps the rest might, so they resolved to resist.
They brought Bedawin Arabs to be present at the trial, and hired them to
swear falsely. When the girl was brought in, the father was quite
overcome. He could see the features of his dear child, but she was so
disfigured with the Bedawin tattooing and the brutal treatment of the
Moslems, that his heart sank within him. Yet he examined her, and took
his oath that this was his daughter, and demanded that she be given up
to him. The Bedawin men and women were now brought in. One swore that he
was the father of the girl, and a woman swore that she was her mother.
Then several swore that they were her uncles, but it was proved that
they were in no way related to the one who said he was her father. Other
witnesses were called, but they contradicted one another. Then they
asked the girl. Poor thing, she had been so long neglected and abused,
that she _had forgotten her father_, and the Moslem women had threatened
to kill her if she said she was his daughter, so she declared she was
born among the Bedawin, and was a Moslem in religion. Money had been
given to certain of the Mejlis, and they finally decided that the girl
should go to the Moslem house of Derwish Effendi to await the final
decision.

The poor father now went to the Consuls. They made out a statement of
the case and sent it to the Consuls General in Beirût, who sent a joint
dispatch to the Waly of all Syria, who lives in Damascus, demanding
that as the case could not be fairly tried in Tripoli, the girl be
brought to Beirût to be examined by a Special Commission. The Waly
telegraphed at once to Tripoli, to have the girl sent on by the first
steamer to Beirût. The Moslem women now told the girl that orders had
come to have her killed, and that she was to be taken on a steamer as if
to go to Beirût, but that really they were going to throw her into the
sea, and that if she reached Beirût alive they would cut her up and burn
her! So the poor child went on the steamer in perfect terror, and she
reached Beirût in a state of exhaustion. When she was rested, a
Commission was formed consisting of the Moslem Kadi of Beirût who was
acting Governor, the political Agent, Delenda Effendi, the Greek
Catholic Bishop Agabius, the Maronite Priest Yusef, and the agent of the
Greek Bishop, together with all the members of the Executive Council.

Her father, mother and aunt were now brought in and sat near her. She
refused to recognize them, and was in constant fear of being injured.
The Kadi then turned to her and said, "do not fear, my child. You are
among friends. Do not be afraid of people who have threatened you. No
one shall harm you." The Moslem Kadi, the Greek Catholic priests, and
others having thus spoken kindly to her, the father and mother stated
the history of how the little girl was lost nine years ago, and that she
had a scar on her breast. The scar was examined, and all began to feel
that she was really their own daughter. The girl began to feel more
calm, and the Kadi told her that her own mother wanted to ask her a few
questions.

Her mother now went up to her and said, "My child, don't you remember
me?" She said "no I do not." "Don't you remember that _your name was
once Zahidy_, and I used to call you, and you lived in a house with a
little yard, and flowers before the door, and that you went with the
little girls to school, and came home at night, and that one day a man
came and offered you sugar plums and led you away and carried you off to
the Arabs? Don't you know _me_, my _own daughter_?" The poor girl
trembled; her lips quivered, and she said, "Yes, I _did_ have another
name. I _was_ Zahidy. I did go with little girls. Oh, ya imme! My
mother! you _are_ my mother," and she sprang into her arms and wept, and
the mother wept and laughed, and the Moslem Kadi and the Mufti, and the
priests and the Bishops and the Effendis and the great crowd of
spectators wiped their eyes, and bowed their heads, and there was a
great silence.

After a little the Kadi said, "it is enough. This girl _is_ the daughter
of Kahlil Ferah. Sir, take your child, and Allah be with you!"

The father wiped away the tears and said, "Your Excellency, you see this
poor girl all tattooed and disfigured. You see how ignorant and feeble
she is. If she were not my child, there is nothing about her to make me
wish to take her. But she is my own darling child, and with all her
faults and infirmities, I love her." The whole Council then arose and
congratulated the father and mother, and a great crowd accompanied them
home. Throngs of people came to see her and congratulate the family, and
after a little the girl was sent to a boarding school.

I can hardly think over this story even now without tears, for I think
how glad I should have been to get back again a child of mine if it had
been lost. And I have another thought too about that little lost girl.
If that father loved his daughter so as to search and seek for her, and
expend money, and travel by land and sea for years, in trying to find
her, and when at length he found her, so forlorn and wretched and
degraded, yet loved her still because she was _his daughter_, do you not
think that Jesus loves us even more? We were lost and wretched and
forlorn. A worse being than Bedawin gypsies has put his mark on our
hearts and our natures. We have wandered far, far away. We have served
the world, and forgotten our dear Heavenly Father. We have even refused
to receive Him when he has come near us. Yet Jesus came to seek and to
save us. And when he found us so degraded and sinful and disfigured, He
loved us still, because we are His own children. Don't you think that
the little lost Damascene girl was thankful when she reached her home,
and was loved and kindly treated by father and mother and relatives and
friends? And ought we not to be very thankful when Jesus brings us
home, and calls us "dear children" and opens the gate of heaven to us?

This story of the lost Damascene child calls to my mind a little song
which the Maronite women in Lebanon sing to their babies as a lullaby.
The story is that a Prince's daughter was stolen by the Bedawin Arabs,
and carried to their camp. She grew up and was married to a Bedawin
Sheikh and had a little son. One day a party of muleteers came to the
camp selling grapes, and she recognized them as from her own village.
She did not dare speak to them, so she began to sing a lullaby to her
baby, and motioned to the grape-sellers to come near, and when the
Bedawin were not listening, she would sing them her story in the same
tone as the lullaby.


THE LULLABY.

                 Sleep, baby sleep! a sleep so sweet and mild,
                 Sleep, my Arab boy, my little Bedawin child!
_Aside to the  }     Once I was a happy girl,
grape-sellers_ }     The Prince Abdullah's daughter.
                     Playing with the village maids,
                     Bringing wood and water.
                     Suddenly the Bedawin
                     Carried me away;
                     Clothed me in the Aba robe
                     And here they make me stay.
                 Sleep, baby sleep! a sleep so sweet and mild,
                 Sleep, my Arab boy, my little Bedawin child!
_Aside_              Ye sellers of grapes hear what I say.
                     I had dressed in satin rich and gay.
                     They took my costly robes away,
                     And dressed me in Aba coarse and grey.
                     I had lived on viands costly and rare,
                     And now raw camel's flesh is my fare.
                 Sleep, baby sleep! a sleep so sweet and mild,
                 Sleep, my Arab boy, my little Bedawin child!
_Aside_              Oh seller of grapes, I beg you hear,
                     Go tell my mother and father dear,
                     That you have seen me here to-day.
                     Just by the Church my parents live,
                     The Bedawin stole me on Thursday eve.
                     Let the people come and their sister save,
                     Let them come with warriors bold and brave,
                     Lest I die of grief and go to my grave.

The grape-sellers then go home, and the warriors come and rescue her,
and take her home.

We will stop here a moment and make a pencil sketch of this Arab camp,
but we must be very careful not to let them see us writing. They have a
great fear of the art of writing, a superstitious idea that a person who
writes or sketches in their camp, is writing some charm or incantation
to bring mischief upon them. I once heard of a missionary who went to an
Arab village to spend the night. The people were all Maronites, and
grossly ignorant. He pitched his tent and sat down to rest. Presently a
crowd of rough young men came in and began to insult him. They demanded
bakhshish, and handled his bedding and cooking utensils in a very brutal
manner, and asked him if he had any weapons. He bethought himself of one
weapon and began to use it. He took out a pencil and paper, and began to
make a sketch of the ringleader. He looked him steadily in the eye, and
then wrote rapidly with his pencil. The man began to tremble and slowly
retreated and finally shouted to his companions, and off they all went.
Shortly after, they sent a man to beg Mr. L. not to cut off their heads!
Their priests teach them that the Protestants have the power of working
magic, and that they draw a man's portrait and take it with them, and if
the man does anything to displease them, they cut off the head of the
picture and the man's head drops off! Mr. L. sent them word that they
had better be very careful how they behaved. They did not molest him
again.

Here we are near Tripoli, at the Convent of the _Sacred Fish_. What a
beautiful spot! This large high building with its snow-white dome, and
the great sycamore tree standing by this circular pool of crystal water,
make a beautiful scene. What a crowd of Moslem boys! They have come all
the way from Tripoli, about two miles, to feed the Sacred Fish. They are
a gay looking company, with their red, green, blue, yellow, white and
purple clothes, and their bright red caps and shoes, and some of them
with white turbans. They come out on feast days and holidays to play on
this green lawn and feed the fish. The old sheikh who keeps this holy
place, has great faith in these fish. He says they are all good Moslems,
and are inhabited by the souls of Moslem saints, and there is one black
fish, the Sheikh of the saints, who does not often show himself to
spectators. There are hundreds if not thousands of fish, resembling the
dace or chubs of America. He says that during the Crimean war, many of
the older ones went off under the sea to Sevastopol and fought the
Russian infidels, and some of them came back wounded. The people think
that if any one eats these fish he will die immediately. That I _know_
to be false, for I have tried it. When the American Consul was here in
1856, his Moslem Kawasses caught several of the fish, and brought them
to Mr. Lyons' house. We had them cooked and ate them, but found them
coarse and unpalatable. That was sixteen years ago and we have not felt
the evil effects yet.

This poor woman has a sick child, and has come to get the Sheikh to read
the Koran over it and cure it. The most of the Syrian doctors are
ignorant quacks, and the people have so many superstitions that they
prefer going to saints' tombs rather than call a good physician. There
is a Medical College in Beirût now, and before long Syria will have some
skilful doctors. I knew an old Egyptian doctor in Duma named Haj
Ibrahim, who was a conceited fellow. He used to bleed for every kind of
disease. An old man eighty years of age was dying of consumption, and
the Haj opened a vein and let him bleed to death. When the man died, he
said if he had only taken a little more blood, the old man would have
recovered. I was surprised by his coming to me one day and asking for
some American newspapers. I supposed he wished them to wrap medicines in
and gave him several New York Tribunes. A few days after he invited us
to eat figs and grapes in his vineyard and we stopped at his house. He
said he was very thankful for the papers. They had been very useful. I
wondered what he meant, and asked him. He showed me a jar in the corner
in which he had dissolved the papers into a pulp in oil and water, and
had given the pulp as medicine to the people! He said it was a powerful
medicine. He supposed that the English printed letters would have some
magic influence on diseases.

One of the Moslem lads carries a short iron spear as a sign that he is
going to be a derwish. Dr. De Forest once found himself surrounded in a
Moslem village by a troop of little Moslems, each of them with an
iron-headed spear in his hand. A Moorish Sheikh, or Chief, had been for
some two years teaching the Moslems of the place the customs of their
holy devotees, and in consequence all the boys had become derwishes, or
Moslem monks. He was a shrewd old Sheikh. He knew that the true way to
perpetuate his religion was to _teach the children_. He had taught them
the Moslem prayers and prostrations, and to keep certain moral precepts.
How glad we should be if these boys would come and sit down by us while
we talk to them of Jesus! There they come. See how their eyes sparkle,
as I speak to them. They have never heard about the gospel before. But I
must speak in a low tone, as the old Sheikh is coming and he looks down
upon us as infidel dogs! Perhaps some of them will think of these words
some day, and put their trust in our Divine Saviour.

Many of the people seem to think that the missionary's house is like the
Cave of Adullam, where David lived, (1 Sam. xxii:2) when "every one that
was in distress, and every one that was in debt and every one that was
discontented, gathered themselves unto him." It makes it very hard to
deal with the people, to have so many of them come to us with improper
motives. They come and say they love the gospel and want instruction,
and have endured persecution, when suddenly you find that they want
money, or to be protected from punishment, or to get office, or to get
married to some improper person, or something else that is wrong.

Once a sheikh from Dunnîyeh in Lebanon came to Tripoli, and declared
himself a Protestant. He was very zealous, and wanted us to feel that he
was too good a man to be turned away, as he was wealthy and of a high
family. He was armed with a small arsenal of weapons. He had a servant
to carry his gun and pipe, and came day after day to read books, and
talk on religion. He said that all he needed was the protection of the
American Consul, and then he would make his whole village Protestants.
We told him we could have nothing to do with politics. If he wanted to
become a Christian, he must take up his cross and follow Christ. He said
that was just what he wanted to do, only he wished to benefit the cause
by bringing others to follow Him. He seemed very earnest, but there was
something dark and mysterious in his ways, and we were afraid of him.
Now the Arabs have a proverb, "No tree is cut down but by _one of its
own limbs_," _i.e._ the axe handle, and we thought a native only could
understand a native, so we took the famous convert around to see Yanni.
He went into Yanni's office, and Mr. L. and myself sat out in the
garden under the orange trees. After a few minutes Yanni called out,
"Come in, be preferred, your excellencies! I have found it all out. I
understand the case." We went in and climbed up upon the platform, next
the desk in the office. The Maronite candidate for the church sat
smiling, as if he thought he would now be received at once. Yanni went
on, "I understand the case exactly. This man is a son of a Sheikh in
Dunnîyeh. He is in a deadly quarrel with his father and brothers about
the property, and says that if we will give him the protection of the
American Consulate, he will go home, kill his father and brothers, seize
all the property, and then come down and join the church, and live in
Tripoli!" We were astounded, but the brutal fellow turned to us and
said, "yes, and I will then make all the village Protestants, and if I
fail, then cut my head off!" We told him that if he did anything of that
kind, we would try to get him hung, and the American Consulate would
have nothing to do with him. "Very well," said he, "I have made you a
_fair offer_, and if you don't accept it, I have nothing more to say."
We rebuked him sharply, and gave him a sermon which he did not relish,
for he said he was in haste, and bade us a most polite good morning. He
was what I should call an Adullamite.

A Greek priest in the village of Barbara once took me aside, to a
retired place behind his house, and told me that he had a profound
secret to tell me. He wished to become a Protestant and make the whole
village Protestant, but on one condition, that I would get him a hat, a
coat, and pantaloons, put a flag-staff on his house, and have him
appointed American Consul. I told him the matter of the hat, coat and
pantaloons he could attend to at but slight expense, but I had no right
to make Consuls and erect flagstaffs. Then he said he could not become
Protestant.

In 1866, a man named Yusef Keram rebelled against the Government of
Lebanon and was captured and exiled. The day he was brought into Beirût,
a tall rough looking mountaineer called at my house. He was armed with a
musket and sword, besides pistols and dirks. After taking a seat, he
said, "I wish to become Angliz and American." "What for," said I. "Only
that I would be honored with the honorable religion." "Do you know
anything about it?" "Of course not. How should I know?" "Don't you know
better than to follow a religion you know nothing about?" "But I can
learn." "How do you know but what we worship the devil?" "No matter.
Whatever you worship, I will worship." I then asked him what he came
for. He said he was in the rebel army, was captured, escaped and fought
again, and now feared he should be shot, so he wanted to become Angliz
and American. I told him he need have no fear, as the Pasha had granted
pardon to all. "Is that so?" "Yes, it is." On hearing this he said he
had business to look after, and bade me good evening.

But you will be tired of hearing about the Adullamites. If those who
came to David were like the discontented and debtors who come to us, he
must have been tired too. So many suspicious characters come to us, that
we frequently ask men, when they come professing great zeal for the
gospel, whether they have killed anybody, or stolen, or quarrelled with
any one? And it is not always easy to find out the truth. If fifty men
turn Protestants in a village, perhaps five or ten will stand firm, and
the rest go back, and frequently all go back.

But the rain is coming down and we will hasten to the Meena to Uncle
S.'s house, where we can rest after this wearisome and hasty journey
from Safita. For your sake I am glad that we took comfortable bedding
and bedsteads with us. It costs a few piastres more to hire a baggage
animal, but it is cheaper in the end. At one time I was going on a hard
journey, and I thought I would be economical, so I took only my horse
and a few articles in my khurj or saddle bags, with a little boy to show
me the road and take care of my horse. When I reached the village, I
stopped at the house of a man said to be a Protestant. He lived in the
most abject style, and I soon found by his bad language towards his
family and his neighbors that he needed all the preaching I could give
him that evening. There was only one room in the house, and that was
small. By nine o'clock the mother and the children had lain down on a
mat to sleep, and the neighbors who came in were beginning to doze. I
was very weary with a long ride on a hot August day, and asked mine host
where I should lie down to sleep. He led me to a little elevated
platform on the back side of the room, where a bed was spread for me.
The dim oil lamp showed me that the bed and covering were neither of
them clean, but I was too weary to spend much time in examining them,
and after spreading my linen handkerchief over the pillow, I tried to
sleep. But this could not be done. Creeping things, great and small,
were crawling over me from head to foot. There was a hole in the wall
near my head, and the bright moonlight showed what was going on. Fleas,
bugs, ants, (attracted by the bread in my khurj,) and more horrible
still, swarms of lice covered the bed, and my clothing. I could stand it
no longer. Gathering up my things, and walking carefully across the
floor to keep from stepping on the sleeping family, I reached the door.
But it was fastened with an Arab lock and a huge wooden key, and could
only be opened by a violent shaking and rattling. This, with the
creaking of the hinges, woke up my host, who sprung up to see what was
the matter. I told him I had decided to journey on by moonlight. It was
then one o'clock in the morning, and on I rode, so weary, that when I
reached Jebaa at ten o'clock, I was obliged to go to bed. I did not
recover from the onset of the vermin for weeks.

I have known missionaries to travel without beds, tents or bedsteads,
and to spend weary days and sleepless nights, so as to be quite unfitted
for their great work of preaching to the people. If you ever grow up to
become a missionary, I hope you will live as simply as you can, but be
careful of your health and try to live as long as you can, for the sake
of the people you are working for, and the Lord who sends you forth. It
is not good economy for a missionary to become a martyr to studying
Arabic, or to poor food, or to exhausting modes of travelling. One can
kill himself in a short time, if he wishes, on missionary ground, but he
could have done that at home without the great expense of coming here to
do it, and besides, that is not what a missionary goes out for. He ought
to live as long as he can. He should have a dry house, in a healthy
location, good food, and proper conveniences for safe travelling.

How pleasant it is to hear that sweet toned bell! Let us climb up to the
roof and read the inscription on it. "From little Sabbath School
Children in America to the Mission Church in Tripoli, Syria." It was
sent in 1862 by the children in Fourth Avenue Church, New York, and in
Newark, Syracuse, Owego, Montrose and other places.

The Moslems abhor bells. They say bells draw together evil spirits. We
are not able yet to have a bell in Hums, on account of the Moslem
opposition. They do not use bells, but have men called Muezzins
stationed on the little balconies around the top of the tall minarets,
to call out five times a day to the people to come to prayer. They
select men and boys with high clear voices, and at times their voices
sound very sweetly in the still evening. They say, "There is no God but
God." That is true. Then they add, "and Mohammed is the Apostle of God,"
and that is not true. As the great historian Gibbon said; these words
contain an "eternal truth and an eternal lie."

The Moslems are obliged to pray five times every day, wherever they may
be. At home, in their shops, in the street, or on a journey, whenever
the appointed time arrives, they fall on their knees, and go through
with the whole routine of prayers and bodily prostrations. One day
several Moslems called on us in Tripoli, at the eighth hour of the day
(about 2 o'clock P.M.), and after they had been sitting some
time engaged in conversation, one of them arose and said to his
companions, "I must pray.". They all asked, "Why? It is not the hour of
prayer." "Because," said he, "when I went to the mosque at noon to pray,
I had an ink-spot on my finger nail, and did not perceive it until after
I came out, and hence my prayer was of no account. I have just now
scraped it off, and must repeat my noon prayer." So saying, he spread
his cloak upon the floor, and then kneeling upon it with his face
towards Mecca, commenced his prayers, while his companions amused
themselves by talking about his ceremonial strictness. One of them said
to me, "He thinks he is holy, but if you could see the _inside_ of him,
you would find it black as pitch!" He kept his head turned to hear what
was being said, and after he had finished, disputed a remark one of them
had made while he was praying. Such people worship God with their lips,
while their hearts are far from him.

Moslems have a great horror of swine. They think us barbarians to eat
ham or pork. In February, 1866, the Moslems of Beirût were keeping the
Fast of Ramadan. For a whole month of each year they can eat and drink
nothing between sunrise and sunset, and they become very cross and
irritable. In Hums, some Moslems saw a dog eating a bone in Ramadan, and
killed him because he would not keep the fast. They fast all day, and
feast all night. Ramadan is really a great nocturnal feast, but it is
hard for the working people to wait until night before beginning the
feast. During that fast of 1866, a Maronite fellah came into Beirût
driving a herd of swine to the market. Now of all sights in the world,
the sight of swine is to an orthodox Moslem the most intolerable, and
especially in the holy month of Ramadan. Even in ordinary times, when
swine enter the city, the Moslems gather up their robes, turn their
backs and shout, "hub hub," "hub hub," and if the hogs do not hasten
along, the "hub hub," is very apt to become a hubbub. On the 28th of
that holy month, a large herd entered Beirût on the Damascus road. The
Moslems saw them, and forthwith a crowd of Moslem young men and boys
hastened to the fray. A few days before, the Maronite Yusef Keram had
entered the city amid the rejoicings of the Maronites. These swine, whom
the Moslems called "Christian Khanzir," should meet a different
reception. Their wrath overcame their prejudice. The Maronite
swine-drivers were dispersed and the whole herd were driven on the run
up the Assur with shouts of derision, and pelted with stones and clubs.
"You khanzir, you Maronite, you Keram, out with you!" and the air rang
with shouts mingled with squeals and grunts. I saw the crowd coming. It
gathered strength as it approached Bab Yakoob, where the white turbaned
faithful rose from their shops and stables to join in the persecution of
the stampeding porkers. "May Allah cut off their days! Curses on their
grandfather's beard! Curses on the father of their owner! Hub hub! Allah
deliver us from their contamination!" were the cries of the crowd as
they rushed along. The little boys were laughing and having a good time,
and the men were breathing out wrath and tobacco smoke. Alas, for the
poor swine! What became of them I could not tell, but the last I saw,
was the infuriated crowd driving them into the Khan of Muhayeddin near
by, where one knows not what may have happened to them. I hope they did
not steal the pork and eat it "on the sly," as the Bedawin did at Mt.
Sinai, who threw away the hams the travellers were carrying for
provisions, and declared that their camels should not be defiled with
the unclean beast! The travellers were _very_ indignant at such a loss,
but thought it was too bad to injure the feelings of the devout Moslems,
and said no more. What was their horror and wrath to hear the next night
that the Bedawin were seen cooking and eating their hams at midnight,
when they thought no one would see them!

Do the Syrian people all smoke? Almost all of them. They speak of it as
"drinking a pipe, drinking a cigar," and you would think that they look
upon tobacco as being as necessary to them as water. Old and young men,
women and even children smoke, smoke while they work or rest, while at
home or journeying, and measure distances by their pipes. I was
travelling, and asked a man how far it was to the next village. He said
about two pipes of tobacco distant! I found it to be nearly an hour, or
three miles. The Orientals spend so much time in smoking, that some one
has said "the Moslems came into power with the Koran in one hand, and
the sword in the other, but will go out with the Koran in one hand and
the pipe in the other!"

Here we are on the sandy beach. What myriads of sea shells, and what
beautiful colors they have. And here are sponges without number, but
they are worthless. There on the sea are the little sloops of the sponge
fishers. They are there through the whole summer and the fishers dive
down into the sea where the water is from 100 to 200 feet deep, and walk
around on the bottom holding their breath, and when they can bear it no
longer pull the cord which is tied around the waist, and then their
companions draw them up. They do not live long, as it is very hard and
unnatural labor. Sometimes they are killed by sharks or other sea
monsters. One of them told me that he was once on the bottom, and just
about to pick up a beautiful white sponge, when he saw a great monster
with huge claws and arms and enormous eyes coming towards him, and he
barely escaped being devoured. At another time, the men in the boat felt
a sudden jerk on the rope and pulled in, when they found only the man's
head, arms and chest on it, the rest of his body having been devoured by
some great fish or sea animal. The sponges grow on rocks, pebbles or
shells, and some of them are of great value. It is difficult to get the
best ones here, as the company who hire the divers export all the good
ones to Europe.




PART V.


Word has come that there is cholera in Odessa, so that all the Russian
steamers going to Beirût will be in quarantine. It will not be pleasant
to spend a week in the Beirût quarantine, so we will keep our baggage
animals and go down by land. It is two long days of nine hours each, and
you will be weary enough. Bidding good-bye to our dear friends here and
wishing them God's blessing in their difficult work among such people,
away we go! Yanni and Uncle S. and some of the teachers will accompany
us a little way, according to the Eastern custom, and then we dismount
and kiss them all on both cheeks, and pursue our monotonous way along
the coast, sometimes riding over rocky capes and promontories and then
on the sand and pebbles close to the roaring surf.

See how many monasteries there are on the sides of Lebanon! Between
Tripoli and Beirût there are about a hundred. The men who live in them
are called monks, who make a vow never to marry, and spend their lives
eating and drinking the fruits of other men's labors. They own almost
all the valuable land in this range of mountains for fifty miles, and
the fellaheen live as "tenants at will" on their estates. When a man is
lazy or unfortunate, if he is not married, his first thought is to
become a monk. They are the most corrupt and worthless vagabonds in the
land, and the day must come before long, when the monasteries and
convents will be abolished and their property be given back to the
people to whom it justly belongs.

We are now riding along by the telegraph wires. It seems strange to see
Morse's telegraph on this old Phenician coast, and it will seem stranger
still when we reach Beirût, to receive a daily morning paper printed in
Arabic, with telegrams from all parts of the world!

In July, a woman came to the telegraph office in Beirût, asking, "Where
is the telegraph?" The Clerk, Yusef Effendi, asked her, "Whom do you
want, the Director, the Operator, or the Kawass?" She said, "I want
Telegraph himself, for my husband has sent me word that he is in prison
in Zahleh and wants me to come with haste, and I heard that Telegraph
takes people quicker than any one else. Please tell me the fare, and
send me as soon as possible!" The Effendi looked at her, and took her
measure, and then said, "You are too tall to go by telegraph, so you
will have to go on a mule." The poor ignorant woman went away greatly
disappointed.

Another old woman, whose son was drafted into the Turkish army, wished
to send him a pair of new shoes, so she hung them on the telegraph wire.
A way-worn foot traveller coming along soon after took down the new
shoes and put them on, and hung his old ones in their place. The next
day the old lady returned and finding the old shoes, said, "Mashallah,
Mohammed has received his new shoes and sent back his old ones to be
repaired."

The telegraph has taught all the world useful lessons, and the Syrians
have learned one lesson from it which is of great value. When they write
letters they use long titles, and flowery salutations, so that a whole
page will be taken up with these empty formalities, leaving only a few
lines at the end, or in a postscript, for the important business. But
when they send a telegram and have to pay for every word, they leave out
the flowery salutations and send only what is necessary.

The following is a very common way of beginning an Arabic letter:

"To the presence of the affectionate and the most distinguished, the
honorable and most ingenuous Khowadja, the honored, may his continuance
be prolonged!"

"After presenting the precious pearls of affection, the aromatic
blossoms of love, and the increase of excessive longing, after the
intimate presence of the light of your rising in prosperity, we would
say that in a most blessed and propitious hour your precious letter
honored us," etc.

That would cost too much to be sent by telegraph. Precious pearls and
aromatic blossoms would become expensive luxuries at two cents a word.
So they have to be reserved for letters, if any one has time to write
them.

Here we come to the famous Dog River. You will read in books about this
river and its old inscriptions. If you have not forgotten your Latin,
you can read a lesson in Latin which was written here nearly two
thousand years ago. There you can see the words.

       Imp. Caes. M. Aurelius
   Antoninus Pius Felix Augustus
  Par. Max. Brit. Max. Germ. Maximus
          Pontifex Maximus
         Montibus Imminentibus
             etc. etc.

This Emperor Marcus Aurelius, must have cut this road through the rocks
about the year 173 A.D. But there is another inscription higher up, with
arrow-headed characters and several other tablets. They are Assyrian and
Egyptian. One of the Assyrian tablets was cut by Sennacherib 2500 years
ago, and one of the Egyptian by Sesostris, king of Egypt, 3100 years
ago. Don't you feel very young and small in looking at such ancient
monuments? All of those men brought their armies here, and found the
path so bad along the high precipice overhanging the sea, that they cut
a road for their horses and chariots in the solid limestone rock. Just
think of standing where Sennacherib and Alexander the Great passed
along with their armies!

What a steep and narrow road! We will dismount and walk over this
dangerous pass. It is not pleasant to meet camels and loaded mules on
such a dizzy precipice, with the high cliff above, and the roaring waves
of the sea far below! It is well we dismounted. Our horses are afraid of
those camels carrying long timbers balanced on their backs. Let us turn
aside and wait until they pass.

Seeing these camels reminds me of what I saw here in 1857. I was coming
down the coast from Tripoli and reached the top of this pass, in the
narrowest part, just as a caravan of camels were coming from the
opposite direction. I turned back a little, and stood close under the
edge of the cliff to let the camels go by. They were loaded with huge
canvas sacks of tibn, or cut straw, which hung down on both sides,
making it impossible to pass them without stooping very low. Just then I
heard a voice behind me, and looking around, saw a shepherd coming up
the pass with his flock of sheep. He was walking ahead, and they all
followed on. I called to him to go back, as the camels were coming over
the pass. He said, "Ma ahlaik," or "don't trouble yourself," and on he
came. When he met the camels, they were in the narrowest part, where a
low stone wall runs along the edge of the precipice. He stooped down and
stepped upon the narrow wall, calling all the time to his sheep, who
followed close upon his heels, walking in single file. He said "tahl,
tahl," "come, come," and then made a shrill whirring call, which could
be heard above the roaring of the waves on the rocks below. It was
wonderful to see how closely they followed the shepherd. They did not
seem to notice the camels on the one side, or the abyss on the other
side. Had they left the narrow track, they would either have been
trodden down by the heavily laden camels, or have fallen off into the
dark waters below. But they were intent on following their shepherd.
They heard his voice, and that was enough. The cameleers were shouting
and screaming to their camels to keep them from slipping on these smooth
rocks, but the sheep paid no attention to them. They knew the shepherd's
voice. They had followed him before, through rivers and thickets, among
rocks and sands, and he had always led them safely. The waves were
dashing and roaring on the rocks below, but they did not fear, for the
shepherd was going on before. Had one of those sheep turned aside, he
would have lost his footing and been destroyed and thrown the whole
flock into confusion.

You know why I have told you this story. You know that Jesus is the Good
Shepherd. He said, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them and they
follow me." Wherever Jesus leads it is safe for us to go. How many boys
and girls there are who think they know a better path than the one Jesus
calls them to follow. There are "stranger" voices calling on every side,
and many a child leaves the path of the Good Shepherd, and turns aside
to hear what they would say. If they were truly lambs of Jesus' fold,
they would love Him, and follow Him in calm and storm, and never heed
the voice of strangers.

I was once travelling from Dûma to Akûra, high up on the range of
Lebanon. It was a hot summer's day, and at noon I stopped to rest by a
fountain. The waste water of the fountain ran into a square stone birkeh
or pool, and around the pool were several shepherds resting with their
flocks of sheep and goats. The shepherds came and talked with me, and
sat smoking for nearly an hour, when suddenly one of them arose and
walked away calling to his flock to follow him. The flocks were all
mixed together, but when he called, his sheep and goats began to raise
their heads and start along together behind him. He kept walking along
and calling, until all his flock had gone. The rest of the sheep and
goats remained quietly as though nothing had happened. Then another
"Rai," or shepherd, started up in another direction, calling out in a
shrill voice, and _his sheep_ followed him. They knew their shepherd's
voice. Our muleteers were talking all the time, but the sheep paid no
attention to them. They knew one voice, and would follow no other.

We will now hasten on to Beirût. You will wish to see the Female
Seminary, and the Sabbath School and the Steam Printing Press, and many
of the Beirût Schools, before we start to Abeih again.

Here is the Female Seminary. There are a hundred girls here, studying
Arabic reading and writing geography, arithmetic, grammar, botany,
physiology and astronomy, and a few study English, French and music. But
the great study is the _Bible_. I am afraid that very few schools in
America have as much instruction in the Bible, as the girls in this
Seminary and the Sidon Seminary receive. You would be surprised to hear
the girls recite correctly the names of all the patriarchs; kings and
prophets of the Old Testament, with the year when they lived, and the
date of all the important events of the Old and New Testament History,
and the Life of Christ, and the travels of the Apostle Paul, and the
prophecies about Christ in the Old Testament, and then recite the whole
Westminster Assembly's Catechism in Arabic! I have given out _one
hundred and twenty_ Bibles and Hymn Books as rewards to children in the
schools in Beirût, who have learned the Shorter Catechism perfectly in
Arabic.

Five years ago there was a girl in the school who was once very rude and
self-willed, and very hard to control. She had a poor bed-ridden brother
who had been a cripple for years, and was a great care to the family.
They used to carry him out in the garden in fine weather and lay him on
a seat under the trees, and sometimes his sister would come home from
the school and read to him from the Bible, to which he listened with
great delight. Not long after this he died, and his sister was sent for
to come home to the funeral. On reaching home she found a large crowd of
women assembled from all that quarter of the city, shrieking and wailing
over his death, according to the Oriental custom. When A. the little
girl came in, one of the women from an aristocratic Greek family was
talking in a loud voice and saying that it was wrong for any person to
go from the house of mourning to another house before first going home,
because one going from a house of mourning would carry an _evil
influence_ with her. A. listened and then spoke out boldly before the
seventy women, "How long will you hold on to these foolish
superstitions? Beirût is a place of light and civilization. Where can
you find any such teaching as this in the gospel? It is time for us to
give up such superstitions." The old woman asked, "Where did that girl
learn these things? Truly she is right. These things _are_
superstitions, but they will not die until _we old women die_." It
required a great deal of courage in A. to speak out so boldly, when her
own brother had died, but all felt that she spoke the truth, and no one
rebuked her.

Near by the house of A. is another beautiful house surrounded by
gardens, and ornamented in the most expensive manner. A little girl from
this family was attending the school in 1867. Her name was Fereedy. She
was a boarder and the best behaved girl in the school. One day during
vacation, her mother came to Rufka and said, "What have you done to my
little daughter Fereedy? She came home last Saturday with her sister,
and at once took the whole care of the little children, so that I had no
trouble with them. And when night came she put her little sisters to bed
and prayed with them all, and then in the morning she prayed with them
again. I never saw such a child. She is like a little angel." The mother
is of the Greek sect, and the little girl was only twelve years old.

And here is a story about another of the superstitions of the fellaheen,
and what a little girl taught the people about them. This little girl
named L. went with her father to spend the summer in a mountain village,
where the people had a strange superstition about an oak tree. One day
she went out to walk and came to the great oak tree which stood alone on
the mountain side. You know that the Canaanites used to have idols under
the green trees in ancient times. When L. reached the tree, she found
the ground covered with dead branches which had fallen from the tree.
Now, wood is very scarce and costly in Syria, and the people are very
poor, so that she wondered to see the wood left to rot on the ground,
and asked the people why they did not use it for fuel. They said they
dared not, as the tree belonged to Moses the Prophet, and he protected
the tree, and if any one took the wood, they would _fall dead_. She
said, "Moses is in heaven, and does not live in oak trees, and if he
did, he is a good man, and would not hurt me for burning up old dry
sticks." So she asked them if she might have the wood? They said, "yes,
if you _dare_ to take it, for we are afraid to touch it." So she went to
the tree and gathered up as much as she could carry, and took it home.
The people screamed when they saw her, and told her to drop it or it
would kill her, but on she went, and afterwards went back and brought
the rest. She then talked with the ignorant women, and her father told
them about the folly of their superstitions, and read to them in the
Bible about Moses, and they listened with great attention. I have often
thought I should like to go to that village, and see whether the people
now leave the dead branches under Moses' oak, or use them for fuel
during the heavy snow storms of winter.




PART VI.


Here we are, home again at Abeih. Here are Asaad and Khalil, and several
others. I asked Khalil one day to write out for me a list of all the
games the boys play in Abeih, and he brought me a list of _twenty-eight_
different ones, and said there were many more.

I. The first is called Khatim or the Ring. A boy puts a ring on the back
of his hand, tosses it and catches it on the back of his fingers. If it
falls on the middle finger, he shakes it to the forefinger, and then he
is Sultan, and appoints a Vizier, whom he commands to beat the other
boys. Then the boys all sing,

    Ding, dong, turn the wheel,
    Wind the purple thread:
    Spin the white and spin the red,
    Wind it on the reel:
    Silk and linen as well as you can,
    Weave a robe for the Great Sultan.

II. Killeh. Like the game of shooting marbles.

III. Owal Howa. The same as leap frog.

IV. Biz Zowaia. Cat in the corner.

V. Taia ya Taia. All the boys stand in a row, and one in front facing
them, who calls out Taia ya Taia. They all then run after him and hit
him. He then hops on one foot as if lame, and catches one of them, who
takes his place.

VI. El Manya. Hig tig.

VII. Bil Kobbeh. A circle of boys stand with their heads bowed. Another
circle stand outside, and on a given signal try to mount on the backs of
the inner circle of boys. If they succeed they remain standing in this
way; if not, the boy who failed must take the inside place.

VIII. Ghummaida. Blind-man's-buff.

IX. Tabeh. Base ball and drop ball.

X. Kurd Murboot or Tied Monkey. A rope is tied to a peg in the ground,
and one boy holds it fast. The others tie knots in their handkerchiefs
and beat him. If he catches them without letting go his hold on the
rope, they take his place.

XI. Shooha or Hawk. Make a swing on the limb of a tree. A boy leans on
the swing and runs around among the boys, until he catches one to take
his place.

XII. Joora. Shooting marbles into a joora or hole in the ground.

XIII. Khubby Mukhzinak. "Pebble pebble." One boy goes around and hides a
pebble in the hand of one of the circle and asks "pebble, pebble, who's
got the pebble." This is like "Button, button."

Then there are other games like chequers and "Morris," chess, and games
which are used in gambling, which you will not care to hear about.

Sometimes when playing, they sing a song which I have translated:

    I found a black crow,
    With a cake in his maw,
    I asked him to feed me,
    He cried caw, caw.

    A chicken I found
    With a loaf of bread--
    I asked him to feed me.
    He cried, enough said.

    And an eagle black
    With a beam on his back
    Said from Egypt I come
    And he cried clack, clack.

So you see the Arab boys are as fond of plays and songs as American
boys. They have scores of songs about gazelles, and pearls, and Sultans,
and Bedawin, and Ghouls, and the "Ghuz," and the Evil Eye, and Arab
mares and Pashas.

A few days ago a Druze, named Sheikh Ali, called upon me and recited to
me a strange song, which reminded me of the story of "Who killed Cock
Robin," and "The House that Jack built." In some of the Arab villages
where fleas abound, the people go at times to the tennûr or oven, (which
is like a great earthen jar sunken in the ground,) to shake off the
fleas into the fire. The story which I have translated goes thus: A
brilliant bug and a noble flea once went to the oven to shake off the
ignoble fleas from their garments into the fire. But alas, alas, the
noble flea lost his footing, fell into the fire and was consumed. Then
the brilliant bug began to weep and mourn, saying,

            Alas! Ah me!
            The Noble Flea!
    While he was thus weeping,
    And his sad watch keeping,
    A glossy raven overhead,
    Flew swiftly down and gently said,
    Oh my friend, oh brilliant bug,
    Why are you weeping on the rug?
    The bug replied, O glossy raven,
    With your head all shorn and shaven,
    I am now weeping,
    And sad watch keeping,
            Over, Ah me!
            The Noble Flea.
      The raven he,
    Wept over the flea,
    And flew to a green palm tree--
    And in grief, _dropped a feather_,
    Like snow in winter weather.
    The palm tree said my glossy raven,
    Why do you look so craven,
    Why did you drop a feather,
    Like snow in winter weather?
    The raven said,
    The flea is dead!
    I saw the brilliant bug weeping
    And his sad watch keeping,
            Alas, Alas, Ah me!
            Over the Noble Flea.
    Then the green Palm tree,
    Wept over the noble flea.
    Said he, The flea is dead!
    And _all his branches shed_!
    The Shaggy Wolf he strayed,
    To rest in the Palm tree's shade
    He saw the branches broken,
    Of deepest grief the token,
    And said, Oh Palm tree green,
    What sorrow have you seen?
    What noble one is dead,
    That you your branches shed?
    He said, O Wolf so shaggy,
    Living in rocks so craggy,
    I saw the glossy raven,
    Looking forlorn and craven,
    Dropping down a feather,
    Like snow in winter weather.
    He saw the brilliant bug weeping
    And his sad watch keeping,
            Alas, Alas, Ah me!
            Over the Noble Flea!
    Then the Wolf in despair
    _Shed his shaggy hair_.
    Then the River clear and shining,
    Saw the wolf in sorrow pining,
    Asked him why in sad despair,
    He had shed his shaggy hair?
    Said the Wolf, Oh River shining,
    I in sorrow deep am pining,
    For the Palm tree I have seen,
    Shedding all his branches green,
    And he saw the glossy raven,
    Looking so forlorn and craven,
    As he dropped a downy feather,
    Like the snow in winter weather.
    He saw the brilliant bug weeping,
    And his sad watch keeping,
            Alas, Alas, Ah me,
            Over the Noble Flea!
    Sadly then the shining River,
    _Dried its waters up forever_.
    Then the Shepherd with his sheep
    Asked the River once so deep,
    What great grief, oh shining river,
    Dried your waters up forever?
    Said the River once so shining,
    I in sorrow deep am pining,
    Since I saw the wolf's despair,
    When he shed his shaggy hair,
    For the Palm tree he had seen,
    Shedding all his branches green,
    And he saw the glossy raven,
    Looking so forlorn and craven,
    As he dropped a downy feather,
    Like the snow in winter weather,
    He saw the brilliant bug weeping,
    And his sad watch keeping.
            Alas, Alas, Ah me!
            Over the Noble Flea!
    Then the Shepherd in sorrow deep,
    _Tore the horns from all his sheep_,
    Sadly bound them on his head,
    Since he heard the flea was dead.
    Then the Shepherd's mother dear,
    Asked him why in desert drear,
    He had torn in sorrow deep,
    All the horns from all his sheep,
    Sadly bound them on his head,
    Just as though a friend was dead?
    Said he, 'tis because the River,
    Dried his waters up forever,
    Since he saw the Wolf's despair,
    When he shed his shaggy hair.
    For the Palm tree he had seen,
    Shedding all his branches green,
    For he saw the glossy raven,
    Looking so forlorn and craven,
    As he dropped a downy feather,
    Like the snow in winter weather.
    He saw the brilliant bug weeping,
    And his sad watch keeping,
    Alas, Alas, Ah me!
            Over the Noble Flea!
    Mother sad began to cry,
    Thrust her needle in her eye;
    Could no longer see her thread,
    Since she heard the flea was dead.
    Then the Father grave and bland,
    Hearing this, _cut off his hand_;
    And the daughter, when she hears,
    In despair, _cuts off her ears_;
    And through the town deep grief is spread,
    Because they heard the flea was dead.


THE NURSERY RHYMES OF THE ARABS.

Who is that singing in such a sweet plaintive voice in the room beneath
our porch? It is the Sit Leila, wife of Sheikh Abbas, saying a lullaby
to her little baby boy, Sheikh Fereed. We will sit on the porch in this
bright moonlight, and listen while she sings:

    Whoever loves you not,
    My little baby boy;
    May she be driven from her house,
    And never know a joy!
    May the "Ghuz" eat up her husband,
    And the mouse her oil destroy!

This is not very sweet language for a gentle lady to use to a little
infant boy, but the Druze and Moslem women use this kind of imprecation
in many of their nursery songs. Katrina says that many of the Greek and
Maronite women sing them too. This young woman Laia, who sits here, has
repeated for me not less than a hundred and twenty of these nursery
rhymes, songs for weddings, funeral wails, etc. Some of the imprecations
are dreadful.

They seem to think that the best way to show their love to their babies,
is to hate those who do not love them.

Im Faris says she has heard this one in Hasbeiya, her birthplace:

        O sleep to God, my child, my eyes,
        Your heart no ill shall know;
        Who loves you not as much as I,
        May God her house o'erthrow!
    May the mosque and the minaret, dome and all,
    On her wicked head in anger fall!
    May the Arabs rob her threshing floor,
    And not one kernel remain in her store.

The servant girl Nideh, who attends the Sit Leila, thinks that her turn
has come, and she is singing,

    We've the white and the red in our baby's cheeks,
    In pounds and tons to spare;
    But the black and the rust,
    And the mould and the must,
    For our neighbor's children are!

I hope she does not refer to _us_ for we are her nearest neighbors. But
in reality I do not suppose that they actually mean what they sing in
these Ishmaelitic songs. Perhaps they do when they are angry, but they
probably sing them ordinarily without thinking of their meaning at all.

Sometimes snakes come down from the ceilings of these earth-roofed
houses, and terrify the people. At other times government horsemen come
and drag them off to prison, as they did in Safita. These things are
referred to in this next song which Nideh is singing:

    If she love you not, my boy,
    May the Lord her life destroy!
    Seven mules tread her down,
    Drag her body through the town!
    Snakes that from the ceiling hang,
    Sting her dead with poison fang!
    Soldiers from Damascus city,
    Drag her off and shew no pity!
    Nor release her for a day,
    Though a thousand pounds she pay!

That is about enough of imprecations, and it will be pleasanter to
listen to Katrina, for she will sing us some of the sweetest of the
Syrian Nursery Songs.

    Sleep, my moon, my baby sleep!
    The Pleiades bright their watches keep.
    The Libra shines so fair and clear,
    The stars are shining, hush my dear!

There is not much music in the tunes they sing to these words. The airs
generally are plaintive and monotonous, and have a sad and weary sound.

Here is another:

    My boy, my moon, I bid you good morrow!
    Who wishes you peace shall know no sorrow!
    Whom you salute, his earth is like heaven,
    His care relieved, his sin forgiven!

She says that last line is extravagant, and I think as much. The next
one is a Moslem lullaby.

    O Lord of the heavens, Knowing and Wise,
    Preserve my Ali, the light of my eyes!
    Lord of high heaven, Compassionate!
    Keep my dear boy in every state!

This one is used by the women of all the sects, but in all of the songs
the name is changed to suit the name of the baby to whom the mother is
singing,

    Ali, your eyes are sleeping,
    But God's eyes never sleep:
    Their hours of lonely weeping
    None can forever keep.
    How sweet is the night of health,
    When Ali sleeps in peace!
    Oh may such nights continue,
    Nor ever, ever cease!

Among all the scores of nursery songs, I have heard only a very few
addressed to _girls_, but some of these are beautiful. Hear Katrina sing
this one:

    Lûlû dear the house is bright,
    With your forehead's sunny light;
    Men your father honor now
    When they see your lovely brow.
    If father comes home sad and weary,
    Sight of you will make him cheery.

The "fuller's soap" mentioned in Malachi 3:2, is the plant called in
Arabic "Ashnan or Shenan," and the Arabs sometimes use it in the place
of soap. The following is another song addressed to a baby girl:

    Come Cameleer, as quick as you can,
    And make us soap from the green "Shenan,"
    To bathe our Lûlû dear;
    We'll wash her and dress her,
    And then we'll caress her,
    She'll sleep in her little sereer. (cradle)

This song is sung by the Druze women to their baby girls:

    Your eye is jet black, and dark are its lashes,
    Between the arched brows, like a crescent it flashes;
    When painted with "kohl" 'tis brighter by far,
    Than the full-orbed moon or the morning star.

The following is supposed to be addressed by a Druze woman to her
neighbor who has a daughter of marriageable age, when she is obliged to
veil her face:

    Hide your daughter, veil her face,
    Neighbor, do not tarry:
    For my Hanna is of age,
    Says he wants to marry.
    When I asked about his choice,
    Said he was not needy:
    But that if he ever wed,
    He thought he'd like Fereedy.

The next one is also Druze and purely Oriental:

    Two healths, one health,
    Four healths more:
    Four sacks of sesamé seed,
    Scattered on the floor;
    Pick and count them one by one.
    Reckon up their number;
    For every seed wish Hassan's health.
    Sweetly may he slumber!

The Druze women delight in nothing so much as to have their sons ride
fine horses:

    My Yusef, my cup of sherbet sweet,
    My broadcloth red hung over the street,
    When you ride the blood mare with sword and pistol,
    Your saddle is gold and your stirrups crystal.

Katrina says that this little song is the morning salutation to baby
boys:

      Good morning now to you, Little boy!
      Your face is like the dew, Little boy!
    There never was a child, so merry and so mild,
      So good morning once again, Little boy!

This song is sung by the Druze women to their babes:

    O Sparrow of Paradise,
    Hush him to sleep?
    Your feathers are "henna."
    Watch him and keep!
    Bring sleep soft and sweet
    Upon your white wings!
    For Hassan the pet
    And his mother who sings!

The apples of Damascus are noted throughout Syria, though we should
regard them as very poor fruit:

    What's he like? If any ask us,
    Flowers and apples of Damascus;
    Apples fragrant on the tray,
    Roses sweet with scent of May.

Laia says that the next one is sung by the Druze women to their baby
boys:

        I love you, I prize you, and for you I wish,
        A hundred oak trees in the valley;
        A hundred blood mares all tied in the court,
        And ready for foray or sally.
    Mount your horse, fly away, with your scarf flowing free,
    The chiefs of the tribe will assemble;
    Damascus, Aleppo, and Ghutah beside,
    At the sound of your coming will tremble.

Nejmeh says that the Bedawin women who come to Safita, her native place,
often sing the following song:

    Come little Bedawy, sit on my lap,
    Pretty pearls shine in your little white cap,
    Rings are in your ears,
    Rings are in your nose,
    Rings upon your fingers,
    And "henna" on your toes.

They use the "henna" to dye their hands, feet and finger nails, when a
wedding or festive occasion occurs in the family.

Katrina recalls another little song which she used to sing to Harry:

    Welcome now, my baby dear,
    Whence did you come?
    Your voice is sweet,
    What little feet!
    Make yourself at home!

Nideh, the Druze girl down stairs is ready with another song. She is
rocking little Sheikh Fereed in his cradle, and says:

    In your cradle sleep my boy,
    Rest from all your labor;
    May El Hakim, heaven's God,
    Ever be your neighbor!

It makes me feel sad to hear a poor woman praying to a man. This El
Hakim was a man, and a bad man too, who lived many hundred years ago,
and now the Druzes regard him as their God. But what difference is there
between worshipping Hakim as the Druzes do, and worshipping Mary and
Joseph as the Greeks and Maronites do. Laia says the Maronites down in
the lower part of this village sing the following song:

    Hillû, Hillû, Hallelujah!
    Come my wild gazelles!
    He who into trouble falls
    On the Virgin Mother calls;
    To Damascus she's departing,
    All the mountain monks are starting.
    Come my priest and come my deacon,
    Bring the censer and the beacon,
    We will celebrate the Mass,
    In the Church of Mar Elias;
    Mar Elias, my neighbor dear,
    You must be deaf if you did not hear.

Sit Leila sings:

    I love you my boy, and this is the proof,
    I wish that you had all the wealth of the "Shoof,"
    Hundreds of costly silken bales,
    Hundreds of ships with lofty sails.
    Hundreds of towns to obey your word,
    And thousands of thousands to call you lord!

Katrina is ready to sing again:

    I will sing to you,
    God will bring to you,
    All you need, my dear:
    He's here and there,
    He is everywhere,
    And to you He's ever near.

People say that every baby that is born into the world is thought by its
mother to be better than any other ever born. The Arab women think so
too, and this is the way they sing it:

    One like you was never born,
    One like you was never brought;
    All the Arabs might grow old,
    Fighting ne'er so brave and bold,
    Yet with all their battles fought
    One like you they never caught.

Im Faris asks if we would not like to hear some of the rhymes the Arab
women sing when playing with their children. Here are some of them. The
first one you will think is like what you have already seen in "Mother
Goose."

    Blacksmith, blacksmith, shoe the mare,
    Shoe the colt with greatest care;
    Hold the shoe and drive the nail,
    Else your labor all will fail;
    Shoe a donkey for Seleem,
    And a colt for Ibraheem.

Sugar cane grows luxuriantly in Syria, and it was first taken from
Tripoli, Syria, to Spain, and thence to the West Indies and America. But
all they do with it now in Syria, is to suck it. It is cut up in pieces
and sold to the people, old and young, who peel it and suck it. So the
Arab women sing to their children:

    Pluck it and suck it, the green sugar cane,
    Whatever is sweet is costly and vain;
    He'll cut you a joint as long as a span,
    And charge two piastres. Now buy if you can!

Wered says she will sing us two or three which they use in teaching the
little Arab babies to "pat" their hands:

    Patty cake, baby! Make him dance!
    May his age increase and his years advance!
    May his life like the rock, long years endure,
    Overgrown with lilies, so sweet and pure!

And now the Sit Leila is singing again one of the Druze lullabys:

    Tish for two, Tish for two!
    A linen shirt with a border blue!
    With cloth that the little pedler sells,
    For the father of eyes like the little gazelles!
    Your mother will weave and spin and twine,
    To clothe you so nicely O little Hassein!

Do you hear the jackals crying as they come up out of the valley? Their
cry is like the voice of the cat and dog mingled together, and Im Faris
knows some of the ditties which they sing to their children about the
jackals and their fondness for chickens:

    You cunning rogues beware!
    You jackals with the long hair!
    You ate up the chickens of old Katrin,
    And ran away singing like wild Bedawin.

It is not pleasant to have so many fleas annoying us all the time, but
we must not be more anxious to keep the fleas out than to get the people
in, and as the fellaheen come to see us, they will be likely to _flea_
us too. Safita is famous for fleas, so no wonder that Nejmeh knows the
following song of the boys about fleas:

    I caught and killed a hopping flea,
    His sister's children came to me:
    One with drum my ears did pierce,
    One was fluting loud and fierce,
    Then they danced me, made me sing,
    Like a monkey in a ring.
    Come O Deeby, come I pray,
    Bring the Doctor right away!
    Peace on your heart feel no alarm,
    You have not had the slightest harm.

Laia is never at a loss for something new, and I am amazed at her
memory. She will give us some rhyming riddles in Arabic, and we will put
them into English as best we may. The first is about the _Ant_:

    'Tis black as night,
    But it is not night:
    Like a bird it has wings,
    But it never sings:
    It digs through the house,
    But it is not a mouse:
    It eats barley and grass,
    But it is not an ass.

Riddle about a _gun_:

    A featherless bird flew over the sea,
    A bird without feathers, how can that be?
    A beautiful bird which I admire,
    With wooden feet and a head of fire!

Riddle on _salt_:

    O Arab tribes, so bold and gay,
    What little grain have you to-day?
    It never on the trees is seen,
    Nor on the flowers and wheat so green.
    Its source is pure, 'tis pleasant to eat,
    From water it comes that is not sweet,
    Though from water it comes, and there's water in it,
    You put it in water, it dies in a minute.

The door has opened down stairs, and some of Sit Leila's friends have
come to see her. The moment they saw the little baby Fereed, they all
began to call out, "Ism Allah alayhee," "The name of Allah upon him."
They use this expression to keep off the Evil Eye. This superstition is
universal throughout Western Asia, Northern Africa, and exists also in
Italy and Spain. Dr. Meshaka of Damascus says that those who believe in
the Evil Eye, "think that certain people have the power of killing
others by a glance of the eye. Others inflict injury by the eye. Others
pick grapes by merely looking at them. This power may rest in _one_ eye,
and one man who thought he had this power, _veiled one eye_, out of
compassion for others! The Moslem Sheikhs and others profess to cure the
evil eye, and prevent its evil effects by writing mystic talismanic
words on papers, which are to be worn. Others write the words on an egg,
and then strike the forehead of the evil eyed with the egg."

Whenever a new house is built, the workmen hang up an egg shell or a
piece of alum, or an old root, or a donkey's skull, in the front door,
to keep off the evil eye. Moslem women leave their children ragged and
dirty to keep people from admiring them, and thus smiting them with the
evil eye. They think that blue eyes are especially dangerous.

They think that the name of God or Allah is a charm against evil, and
when they repeat it, they have no idea of reverence for that Holy Name.

Here is a terrible imprecation against a woman who smites with the Evil
Eye:

    May her hand be thrust in her mouth,
    And her eyes be burned in the fire!
    The blessings of Mighty God,
    Preserve you from her ire!

Nideh sings

    Upon you the name of Allah,
    Around you Allah's eye!
    May the Evil Eye be blinded,
    And never harm my boy!

It is ten o'clock at night, and Katrina, Laia, Wered, and Handûmeh say
it is time to go. Handumeh insists that we come to her wedding
to-morrow. Amîn will go with them to drive away the dogs, and see that
no wolves, hyenas, or leopards attack them by the way.




PART VII.


The boys of Abeih are early risers. What a merry laugh they have! What
new song is that they are singing now?

There has been a shower in the night and Yusef and Khalil are singing
about the rain. We say in English "_it_ rains" but the Arabs tell us
what "it" refers to. They say "The world rains," "The world snows," "The
world is coming down," "The world thunders and lightens." So you will be
able to tell your teacher, when he asks you to parse "it rains," that
"_it_" is a pronoun referring to "world." Hear them sing:

    Rain, O world, all day and night,
    We will wash our clothing white.
    Rain, O world, your waters shed,
    On my dear grandmother's head.

The sun shines out now, and Khalil says the "world has got well" again,
so he sings:

    Shines the sun with brightest beam
    On the roof of Im Seleem;
    Now the bear will dance a reel,
    On the roof of Im Khaleel.

The roofs of the houses are low and flat, and on the hill-sides you can
walk from the street above upon the roof of the houses below. I once
lived in a house in Duma in which the cattle, donkeys, and sheep used to
walk on our roof every evening as they came in from pasture. It was not
very pleasant to be awakened at midnight by a cow-fight on the roof, and
have the stones and dirt rattling down into our faces, but we could get
no other house, and had to make the best of it. You can understand then
Khalil's song:

    The sun is rising all so bright
    Upon the Pasha's daughter:
    See her toss the tassels blue,
    As her mother taught her.
    Turn the oxen on the roof
    Of the village priest;
    He will kill them one and all,
    And give the poor a feast.

The boys seem to be in high glee. They all know Handûmeh and her
betrothed Shaheen Ma'ttar, so they are swinging and singing in honor of
her wedding.

But the time has come for the wedding, and we will go over to Ain Kesûr,
about a mile away, and join in the bridal procession. As we come near
the house we hear the women inside singing. They have been dressing the
bride, and after she is dressed they lead her around and try to make her
dance. Perhaps they will let us see how she is dressed. Her head is
covered with a head-dress of pink gauze, embroidered with gold thread
and purple chenille, and ornamented with pearl beads and artificial
flowers, and over all a long white gauze veil trimmed with lace. Her
ear-rings are gold filigree work with pendant pearls, and around her
neck is a string of pure amber beads and a gold necklace. She wears a
jacket of black velvet, and a gilt belt embroidered with blue, and
fastened with a silver gilt filigree buckle in the form of a bow knot
with pendants. On her finger is a gold ring set with sapphire, and
others with turquoises and amethysts. Her dress is of brown satin, and
on her arms are solid gold bracelets which cost 1400 piastres or
fifty-six dollars. You know Handûmeh is not a rich girl, and her
betrothed is a hard working muleteer, and he has had to work very hard
to get the money to buy all these things, for it is the custom for the
bridegroom to pay for the bride's outfit. The people always lay out
their money in jewelry because it is easily carried, and easily buried
in time of civil wars and troubles in the land. Shaheen's brothers and
relatives have come to take her to Abeih, but he is nowhere to be seen.
It would not be proper for him to come to her house. For weeks she has
not been over to Abeih, except to invite us to her wedding, and when
Anna asked her on what day she was to be married, she professed not to
know anything about it. They think it is not modest for a bride to care
anything about the wedding, and she will try to appear unwilling to go
when they are ready to start. The women are singing now:

    Dance, our bride so fair,
    Dance and never care;
    Your bracelets sing, your anklets ring,
    Your shining beauty would dazzle a king!
    To Damascus your father a journey has made,
    And your bridegroom's name is Abû Zeid.

And now the young men outside are dancing and fencing, and they all join
in singing:

    Dance, my dancer, early and late,
    Would I had like you seven or eight;
    Two uncles like you, blithe and gay,
    To stand at my back in the judgment day!

And now the young men, relatives of the bridegroom, address the brother
of the bride, as her father is not living, and they all sing:

    O brother of the bride, on a charger you should ride;
    A Councillor of State you should be;
    Whene'er you lift your voice,
    The judgment halls rejoice,
    And the earth quakes with fear
    From Acre to Ghuzeer.

And now the warlike Druzes, who are old friends of Shaheen and his
father, wish to show their good will by singing a wedding song, which
they have borrowed from the old wild inhabitants of this land of
Canaan:

    O brother of the bride, your mare has gnawed her bridle,
    Run for the blacksmith, do not be idle.
    She has run to the grave where are buried your foes,
    And pawed out their hearts with her iron shoes!

But the time has come for the procession to move, and we go along slowly
enough. The bride rides a mare, led by one of Shaheen's brothers, and as
we pass the fountain, the people pour water under the mare's feet as a
libation, and Handûmeh throws down a few little copper coins to the
children. The women in the company set up the zilagheet, a high piercing
trill of the voice, and all goes merry as a marriage bell. When we reach
the house of Shaheen, he keeps out of sight, not even offering to help
his bride dismount from her horse. That would never do. He will stay
among the men, and she in a separate room among the women, until the
hour of the ceremony arrives.

But the women are singing again, and this time the song is really
beautiful in Arabic, but I fear I have made lame work of it in the
translation:

    Allah, belaly, belaly,
    Allah, belaly, belaly,
    May God spare the life of your sire,
    Our lovely gazelle of the valley!
        May Allah his riches increase
        He has brought you so costly a dowry;
        The moonlight has gone from his house,
        The rose from his gardens so flow'ry.
        Run away, rude men, turn aside,
        Give place to our beautiful bride:
        From her sweet perfumes I am sighing,
        From the odor of musk I am dying.
    Come and join us fair maid, they have brought you your dress,
    Leave your peacocks and doves, give our bride a caress;
    Red silk! crimson silk! the weaver cries as he goes:
    But our bride's cheeks are redder blushing bright as the rose.
    Dark silk! black silk! hear him now as he sings:
    But our bride's hair is black, like the raven's dark wings;
    With the light of our eyes with our Handûmeh sweet
    No maid of the Druzes can ever compete.
    She is worth all the wealth of the Lebanon domain,
    All the vineyards and olives, the silk worms and grain.
    And no maids of the Christians can with her compare
    Tho' shining with pearls and with jewels so rare.

The house is now crowded full, the men being all in one room with
Shaheen, and the women in the other room, and the court with the bride
Handûmeh. One of Shaheen's brothers comes around with a kumkum, and
sprinkles orange flower water in all our faces, and Khalil asks us if we
wish the ceremony to take place now? We tell him that he must ask the
bride and groom. So Abû Shaheen comes into the court with the old priest
Eklemandus, as Shaheen's family belong to the Greek Catholic sect.
Handûmeh is really a Protestant, and Shaheen has nothing to do with the
priests, but the "old folks" had their way about it. A white curtain
hangs across the court, and the bride stands on one side, with her
bridesmaid, and all the women and girls, and on the other side is the
priest with Shaheen, and all of the men and boys. Then candles were
distributed, and lighted, and the old priest adjusted his robes and
began to read the marriage service. An assistant stood by his side
looking over his shoulder, and responding Amen in a loud and long drawn
voice. At length the priest called out to him, "A little shorter there
on those Amens. We don't want long Amens at a wedding!" This set the
whole crowd laughing, and on he went reading passages of Scripture,
prayers and advice to the bride and bridegroom in the most hasty and
trifling manner, intoning it through his nose, so that no one could
understand what he was saying. While he was reading from the gospel
about the marriage at Cana of Galilee, a small boy, holding a lighted
candle, came very near burning off the old man's beard, and he called
out to him, "Put out your candle! You have tormented my life out of me
with that candle." This raised another laugh, and on he read. Then he
took two rings, and drawing aside the curtain, placed one on the bride's
head, and the other on the bridegroom's head, pronouncing them man and
wife, and then gave them each a sip of wine and the ceremony was
concluded, all the men kissing Shaheen, and the women Handûmeh.
Refreshments were then served to the guests from the village, and a
dinner to those from other villages. In the evening there assembled a
great company in Shaheen's house, and the hour was given up to story
telling. Saleh, whose brother married Shaheen's sister, will begin with
the _Story of the Goats and the Ghoul_.

Once there was a Nanny Goat, strong and powerful, with long and strong
horns, and once upon a time she brought forth twin kids, fair and
beautiful. One was named _Sunaisil_, and the other Rabab. Now the Nanny
Goat went out every morning to the pasture, leaving her twin kids in the
cave. She shut the door carefully, and they locked it on the inside
through fear of the Ghoul, for her neighbor in the next house was a
Ghoul who swallowed little children alive. Then at evening when she came
home, she would stand outside the door, and sing to her twin kids this
little song:

    Hearken now Sunaisil,
    Come Rabab my dear:
    Open to your mother,
    Never, never fear.
    She has sweet milk in her udder.
    Tufts of grass upon her horn;
    She'll give you both your supper,
    And breakfast in the morn.

The little twin kids would know her voice, open the door in gladness,
and eat a hearty supper, and after hearing a nice story from the
Anzîyeh, (for so their mother was called), drop off to sweet sleep.

Now all things went on well for some time, until one day the Ghoul
neighbor being very hungry for a supper of twin kids, came to the door
of the cave and tried to push it open. But it was too strong for her, so
she went away in perplexity. At length she thought she would sing to
them the very song, which the Nanny Goat sang to them every evening on
her return, so she sang it:

    Hearken now Sunaisil,
    Come Rabab, my dear, etc., etc.

and when they heard this song, they opened the door with gladness to eat
their supper, when suddenly the Ghoul sprang upon them with her huge
mouth open, and swallowed them both down at once. She then shut the door
and fastened it as it was before, and went on her way. At evening the
Nanny Goat came home with milk and grass for her twin kids' supper, and
knocked at the door and sang:

    Hearken now Sunaisil,
    Come Rabab my dear, etc., etc.,

as usual, but no one opened the door. Then she knocked and sang again,
and at length she gave up all hope of their opening the door, and butted
against the door with her horns and broke it open. She then entered the
cave but there were no twin kids there. All was still. Then she knew
that the Ghoul had eaten them. So she hastened to the house of the
Ghoul, and went upon the top of the house, and began to stamp and pound
upon the roof. The Ghoul, hearing the stamping upon the roof, called
out, whosoever stamps on my roof, may Allah stamp on his roof! The Nanny
Goat replied, I am on your roof; I, whose children you have eaten. Come
out now, and we will fight it out by butting our heads together. Very
well, said the Ghoul, only wait a little until I can make me a pair of
horns like you. So the goat waited, and away went the Ghoul to make her
horns. She made two horns of dough and dried them in the sun until they
were hard, and then came to "butt" with the goat. At the first shock,
when the goat butted her with her horns, the horns of dough broke all to
pieces; then the goat butted her again in her bowels and broke her in
twain, and out jumped Sunaisil and Rabab, frisking and leaping and
calling out "ya imme," oh, my mother, Oh, my mother! The Ghoul being
dead they had no more fear, and lived long and happy lives with their
mother the Anazîyeh.

       *       *       *       *       *

Did you notice how the little boys listened to Saleh's story of the
Goats and the Ghoul? This story is told by the mothers to their little
children, all over Syria, in the tents of the Bedawîn and in the houses
of the citizens. One of the women, named Noor, (_i.e._ Light), a sister
of the bridegroom, says she will tell the children the story of the
Hamam, the Butta, the Wez, and the Hamar, that is, of the Dove, the
Duck, the Goose, and the Donkey, if all will sit still on the floor. So
all the little boys and girls curl their feet under them and fold their
arms, and Noor begins:

Once the Dove, the Duck, the Goose, and the Donkey joined company and
agreed to live together. Then they took counsel about their means of
living, and said, how long shall we continue in such distress for our
necessary food? Come let us plough a piece of ground, and plant each one
such seeds as are suited to his taste. So they ploughed a piece of
ground and sowed the seed. The Goose planted rice, the Duck planted
wheat, the Dove planted pulse, and the Donkey planted barley, and they
stationed the Donkey on guard to watch the growing crop. Now when the
seeds began to grow and flourish, and the Donkey looked upon it green
and bright and waving in the wind, he arose and ate it all, and then
went and threw himself into a ditch near by. Then came the Dove, the
Goose, and the Duck to survey the growing crop, and lo and behold, it
was all eaten up, and the ground was red and barren. Then said they,
where is the Donkey whom we set on guard over our crop? They searched
near and far, and at length they found him standing in the ditch, and
they asked him where are the crops we so carefully planted and set you
to watch? Then said the Donkey, the Bedawîn came with their flocks of
sheep and pastured them on our crops, and when I tried to resist, they
threw me into this ditch. Then they replied, it is false, you have eaten
it yourself. He said, I did not. They said, yes, you did, for you are
sleek and fat, and the contest waxed hot between them, until at length
they all agreed to make each one swear an oath "by the life of the
Lake," which was near at hand, and whoever swore the oath, and sprang
into the Lake without falling, should be declared innocent. So the Dove
went down first and said:

    Ham, Ham, Ham, I am the Dove Hamam,
    Ham, Ham, Ham, My food is the plain Kotan, (pulse),
    Ham, Ham, Ham, If I ate the growing crop,
                 May I suddenly throw it up!
                 May Allah tumble me into the Lake,
                 And none any news of me ever take!

Then the Dove leaped into the Lake, and flew to the limb of a tree on
the shore, and was proved innocent.

Then the Duck went down and said:

    But But, But, I am the Butta Duck,
    But, But, But, My food is wheat and muck;
    But, But, But, If I ate the growing crop,
                 May I suddenly throw it up!
                 May Allah tumble me into the Lake,
                 And none any news of me ever take!

So the Duck leaped into the Lake, and then flew to the limb of a tree on
the shore and was proved innocent.

Then the Goose went down and said:

    Wez, Wez, Wez, I am the Goose and the Wez,
    Wez, Wez, Wez, I eat Egyptian riz, (rice),
    Wez, Wez, Wez, If I ate the growing crop,
                 May I suddenly throw it up!
                 May Allah tumble me into the Lake,
                 And none any news of me ever take!

So the Goose leaped into the Lake and then flew to the limb of a tree on
the shore and was proved innocent.

Then the Donkey went down and said:

    Hak, Hak, Hak, I am the Donkey Jack,
    Hak, Hak, Hak, I barley eat by the sack:
    Hak, Hak, Hak, If I ate the growing crop,
                 May I suddenly throw it up!
                 May Allah tumble me into the Lake,
                 And none any news of me ever take!

Then the Donkey leaped boldly into the Lake, and down he fell, and his
feet stuck fast in the mud and mire. Then his three companions, seeing
him proved guilty of the crime, flew away and left him to his fate. Then
the Donkey began to "bray" for mercy, and called at the top of his
voice:

                  Whoever will help me out of this plight,
                  May eat my tail at a single bite!
    The Bear heard the braying,
    And without long delaying,
    He answered by saying:
                Long eared Donkey will you pay,
                Every word of what you say?
                If I save you by my might,
                Will you stand still while I bite?
    The lying Ass lay still,
    And answered, "Yes, I will."
                The Bear then gave a fearful roar,
                And dragged the Donkey to the shore,
                And said, I saved you from your plight,
                Now stand still, Donkey, while I bite!
    He said: Wait Bruin till I rest,
    And "smell the air" from East to West,
    And then I'll run with all my might,
    And turn my tail for you to bite!
                Then Bruin took him at his word
                Away he went swift as a bird,
                And called out, now Bruin, I will rest,
                I'll smell the air from East to West,
                I'm running now with all my might,
                I've "turned my tail" for you to bite!
    The Bear resolved in grief and pain,
    He'd never help an Ass again.

Abû Habeeb, who is just about to enter the college, has a story which
all the Arabs know, and love to hear. It is called:

The Lion and Ibn Adam, that is, the Lion and Man, the son of Adam.

Once there was a Lion who had a son, and he always charged him, saying,
my son, beware of Ibn Adam. But at length the old Lion died, and the
young lion resolved that he would search through the world and see that
wonderful animal called Ibn Adam, of whom his father had so often warned
him. So out he went from his cave, and walked to and fro in the
wilderness. At length he saw a huge animal coming towards him, with long
crooked legs and neck, and running at the top of his speed. It was a
Camel. But when the Lion saw his enormous size and rapid pace, he said,
surely, this must be Ibn Adam himself. So he ran towards him and roared
a fearful roar. Stop where you are! The Camel stopped, trembling with
fear of the Lion. Said the Lion, are you Ibn Adam? No, said the Camel, I
am a Camel fleeing from Ibn Adam. Said the Lion, and what did Ibn Adam
do to you that you should flee from him? The Camel said, he loaded me
with heavy burdens, and beat me cruelly, and when I found a fit chance,
I fled from him to this wilderness. Said the Lion, is Ibn Adam stronger
than you are? Yes indeed, many times stronger. Then the Lion was filled
with terror, lest he too should fall into the hands of Ibn Adam, and he
left the Camel to go his way in peace. After a little while, an Ox
passed by, and the Lion said, _this_ must be Ibn Adam. But he found that
he too was fleeing from the yoke and the goad of Ibn Adam. Then he met a
Horse running fleet as the wind, and he said, this swift animal must be
the famous Ibn Adam, but the Horse too was running away from the halter,
the bridle the spur or the harness of the terrible Ibn Adam. Then he met
a mule, a donkey, a buffalo and an elephant, and all were running in
terror of Ibn Adam. The Lion thought what terrible monster must he be to
have struck terror into all these monstrous animals! And on he went
trembling, until hunger drove him to a forest to seek for prey to eat.
While he was searching through the forest, lo and behold, a Carpenter
was at work cutting wood. The Lion wondered at his curious form, and
said, who knows but this may be Ibn Adam? So he came near and asked him
saying, Are you Ibn Adam? He replied, I am. Then the Lion roared a
fearful roar, and said, prepare for battle with the Lion, the king of
beasts! Then Ibn Adam said: What do you want of me? Said the Lion, I
want to devour you. Very well, said the Carpenter, wait until I can get
my claws ready. I will go and take this wood yonder, and then I will
return and fight you. If you kill me, eat me, and if I conquer you I
will let you go, for we the sons of Adam do not eat the flesh of wild
beasts, nor do we kill them, but we let them go. The Lion was deceived
by those artful words, for he had seen the Camel and his companions
running away, and he thought within himself, now, if Ibn Adam did really
eat the flesh of beasts, he would not have let the Camel and the Horse,
the Buffalo and the Mule escape into the desert. So he said to the
Carpenter very well, I will wait for you to take the wood, and return
with your claws. Not so, said the Carpenter, I am afraid that you will
not wait for me. You are a stranger, and I do not trust your word. I
fear you will run away before I return. Said the Lion, it is impossible
that the Lion should run away from any one. Said the Carpenter, I cannot
admit what you say, unless you will grant me one thing. And what is
that, said the Lion. The Carpenter said, I have here a little rope. Come
let me tie you to this tree until I return, and then I shall know where
to find you. The Lion agreed to this plan, and the Carpenter bound him
with ropes to the tree until he and the tree were one compact bundle.
Then the Carpenter went away to his shop, and brought his glue pot, and
filling it with glue and pitch boiled it over the fire. Then he returned
and besmeared the Lion with the boiling mixture from his head to the end
of his tail, and applied a torch until he was all in a flame from head
to tail, and in this plight the Carpenter left him. Then the Lion roared
in agony until the whole forest echoed the savage roar, and all the
animals and wild beasts came running together to see what had happened.
And when they saw him in this sad plight, they rushed to him and loosed
his bonds, and he sprang to the river and extinguished the flames, but
came out singed and scarred, with neither hair nor mane. Now when all
the beasts saw this pitiable sight, they made a covenant together to
kill Ibn Adam. So they watched and waited day and night, until at length
they found him in the forest. As soon as he saw them, he ran to a lofty
tree, and climbed to its very top, taking only his adze with him, and
there awaited his fate. The whole company of beasts now gathered around
the foot of the tree, and tried in vain to climb it, and after they
walked around and around, at length they agreed that one should stand at
the foot of the tree, and another on his back, and so on, until the
upper one should reach Ibn Adam, and throw him down to the ground. Now
the Lion whose back was burned and blistered, from his great fear of man
demanded that he should stand at the bottom of the tree. To this all
agreed. Then the Camel mounted upon the Lion's back, the Horse upon the
Camel, the Buffalo upon the Horse, the Bear upon the Buffalo, the Wolf
upon the bear, and the Donkey upon the Wolf, and so on in order, until
the topmost animal was almost within reach of the Carpenter, Ibn Adam.
Now, when he saw the animals coming nearer and nearer, and almost ready
to seize him, he shouted at the top of his voice. Bring the glue pot of
boiling pitch to the Lion! Hasten! Hasten! Now when the Lion heard of
the boiling pitch, he was terrified beyond measure and leaped one side
with all his might and fled. Down came the pile of beasts, tumbling in
confusion, the one upon the other, and all lay groaning bruised and
bleeding, some with broken legs, some with broken ribs, and some with
broken heads. But as soon as the clamor of their first agony was over,
they all called out to the Lion, why did you leap out and bring all
this misery upon us! The Lion replied:

    The story's point he never knew,
    Who never felt the burning glue!

Monsoor, who has just been to Damascus, says that if he can have another
pipe, and a cup of Arab coffee, he will tell the story of the famous Jew
Rufaiel of Damascus. So he begins:

The story of Rufaiel, the rich Jew of Damascus, and the Moslem Dervish.

Once there lived in Damascus a rich Jew named Rufaiel. He had great
wealth in marble palaces and rich silk robes, and well stored bazaars,
and his wife and daughters were clad in velvets and satins, in gold and
precious stones. He had also great wit and cunning, and often helped his
fellow Jews out of their troubles. Now the Pasha of Damascus was a
Mohammedan, who had a superstitious fear of the holy Moslem Dervishes,
and they could persuade him to tax and oppress the Jews in the most
cruel manner. In those days there came to Damascus a holy Dervish who
had long, uncombed black hair, and although he was a vile and wicked
man, he made the people believe that he was a holy saint, and could
perform wonderful miracles. The Pasha held him in great reverence, and
invited him often to dinner, and when he came in, he would stoop and
kiss the Dervish's feet! And what was most wonderful of all, the Dervish
left Damascus every Thursday night after bidding the Pasha farewell, and
journeyed to Mecca and returned in the morning and told the Pasha all
the Mecca news and what he had seen and heard. This he did every week,
though all wise men laughed at him, and said he only went out of the
City Gate and slept in the gardens of Damascus!

Now the Dervish was a great enemy of the Jews. He hated them, cursed
them, spat upon them, and called them infidel dogs, and he persuaded the
Pasha to increase their taxes fourfold. Their sufferings now became very
great. They had to sell their houses and furniture to pay the heavy
taxes, and many were beaten and thrust into prison. So the leading Jews
in their distress came to Rufaiel, and begged him to go to the Pasha and
obtain relief for them and their families. He said he would think about
the matter. So after they had gone, he called the chief jeweller and
pipe maker of the city, and ordered them to make a long pipe of
exquisite workmanship, with a stem of rosewood carved and inlaid with
pearls, a bowl of pure gold set with diamonds, and a mouth-piece of gold
and amber. Then he went one day to call on the Pasha, and made him a
present of this elegant pipe, the like of which had never been seen in
Damascus. The Pasha was greatly pleased and ordered all in his presence
to retire that he might enjoy the society of Rufaiel, the munificent
Jew. Then Rufaiel turned to the Pasha and said, "may your Excellency
live forever! I have brought you this pipe as a faint token of my high
esteem and affection, but I am filled with deepest sorrow that it is not
perfect." "Not perfect?" said the Pasha. "In what respect could it be
more perfect than what it is?" Said Rufaiel, "you will notice that
between the amber and the gold of the mouth-piece a little ring is
wanting. This ring was the very gem and excellence of the pipe. It was
cut from the Black Stone of the Kaaba in Mecca, and has miraculous
properties. But when the pipe was brought from Mecca, the ring was left
with Mustafa, the jeweller, who is ready to send it by the first fit
opportunity." "Alas," said the Pasha, "but how can we send for it now?
The Pilgrim caravan has gone, and there will be none again for a year."
"Oh," said Rufaiel, "this is easily arranged. To-day is Thursday, and
to-night the holy Dervish will go to Mecca and return to-morrow morning.
Your Excellency need only command him to bring the black ring, and
before this time to-morrow the pipe will be complete in its beauty and
excellency." "El Hamdû Lillah! Praise to Allah! It shall be done!" So
when Rufaiel had gone, the Pasha summoned the Dervish, and told him of
this wonderful pipe which had come to him from Mecca, and that it only
needed the black ring to make it absolutely perfect, and that he was
hereby commanded on pain of death to bring the ring from Mecca before
Friday at the hour of noon prayer. The Dervish bowed most obeisantly and
retired black in the face with rage and despair. But it occurred to him
at once that none in Damascus but Rufaiel could have purchased such a
pipe. So he left the City Gate, called the Bab Allah, or Gate of God, at
sunset, bidding his friends farewell, and walked away in the gardens
until night came on. Then, at the sixth hour of the night he returned
by another gate, and crept along to the door of the mansion of Rufaiel.
The door was opened, and Rufaiel received him with great politeness. The
Dervish fell on the floor and kissed his feet and begged for his life.
Said he, "give me that black ring which belongs to the Pasha's pipe, and
we will be friends forever! Ask what you will and it shall be done to
you. Only give me this ring." Said Rufaiel, "you have ruined my people
with oppression, and now do you ask a favor?" "Yes," said the Dervish,
"and you shall have any favor you ask." So Rufaiel thought to himself a
moment, and then said, "I ask one thing. Do you obtain from the Pasha an
order on all the tax collectors of Damascus, that when any Jew shall
say, _I am one of the Seventy_, the collector shall pass him by, and no
tax ever be demanded of him." "Done," said the Dervish, and embracing
Rufaiel, he bade him good-night. Then in the morning he hastened in at
Bab Allah, and presented the ring to the Pasha, who was so delighted
that he granted his request, and orders were given that no tax should
ever be collected from any Jew who should say "I am one of the Seventy."
Then Rufaiel assembled all the Jews of Damascus, and bade them say to
the tax-gatherers whenever they came, "_I am one of the Seventy_." So
the Jews had rest from taxation, all the days of Rufaiel.

Saleh Bû Nusr, one of the best men in Mount Lebanon, and the father of
Khalil, who brought us the list of Arab boys' games, has already told us
the story of the Goats and the Ghoul, and he says that the savory odor
of the egg plant being cooked for the wedding guests, reminds him of the
story of the Badinjan or Egg Plant.

Once there was a great Emir or Prince who had a very abject and
obsequious servant named Deeb (Wolf). One day Deeb brought to the Emir
for his dinner a dish of stewed badinjan, which pleased the Emir so much
that he complimented Deeb, and told him that it was the best dinner he
had eaten for months. Deeb bowed to the earth and kissed the feet of the
Emir, and said, "may God prolong the life of your excellency! Your
excellency knows what is good. There is nothing like the badinjan. It is
the best of vegetables. Its fruit is good, its leaf is good, its stalk
is good, and its root is good. It is good roasted, stewed, boiled,
fried, and even raw. It is good for old and young. Your excellency,
there is nothing like the badinjan." Now the Emir was unusually hungry,
and ate so bountifully of the badinjan that he was made very ill. So he
sent for Deeb, and rebuked him sharply, saying, "you rascal, you Deeb,
your name is Wolf, and you are rightly named. This badinjan which you
praised so highly has almost killed me." "Exactly so," said Deeb, "may
your excellency live forever! The badinjan is the vilest of plants. It
is never eaten without injury. Its fruit is injurious, its leaf is
injurious, its stalk is noxious, and its root is the vilest of all. It
is not fit 'ajell shanak Allah,' for the pigs to eat, whether raw,
roasted, stewed, boiled or fried. It is injurious to the young and
dangerous to the old. Your excellency, there is nothing so bad as the
badinjan! Never touch the badinjan!"--"Out with you, you worthless
fellow, you Deeb! What do you mean by praising the badinjan when I
praise it, and abusing it when it injures me?" "Ah, your excellency,"
said Deeb, "am I the servant of the badinjan, or the servant of your
excellency? I must say what pleases you, but it makes no difference
whether I please the badinjan or not."

The wedding party is now over, and the guests are departing. Each one on
leaving says, "by your pleasure, good evening!" The host answers, "go in
peace, you have honored us." The guests reply, "we have been honored,
Allah give the newly married ones an arees," (a bridegroom). They would
not dare wish that Shaheen and Handûmeh might some day have a little
baby _girl_. That would be thought an insult.

We will walk up the hill to our mountain home, passing the fountain and
the great walnut trees. Here comes a horseman. It is Ali, who has been
spending a month among the Bedawin Arabs. He will come up and stay with
us, and tell us of his adventures. He says that the Sit Harba, the wife
of the great Arab Sheikh ed Dukhy, taught him a number of the Bedawin
Nursery Songs, and although he is weary with his journey, he will repeat
some of them in Arabic.

They are all about camels and spears and fighting and similar subjects,
and no wonder, as they see nothing else, and think of nothing else.

    To-morrow is the feast day,
    We've no "henna" on our hands;
    Our camels went to bring it,
    From far off distant lands;
    We'll rise by night and listen,
    The camel bells will ring;
    And say a thousand welcomes
    To those who "henna" bring.

And here is a song which shows that the Bedawin have the same habit of
cursing their enemies, which we noticed in the Druze lullabys:

    On the rose and sweetest myrtle,
    May you sleep, my eyes, my boy;
    But may sharpest thorns and briars,
    All your enemies destroy!

Ali says that one of the most mournful songs he heard in the desert was
the following:

    I am like a wounded camel,
    I grind my teeth in pain;
    My load is great and heavy,
    I am tottering again.
    My back is torn and bleeding,
    My wound is past relief,
    And what is harder still to bear,
    None other knows my grief!

The next is a song which the people sung in the villages on the borders
of the desert. By "the sea" they mean the Sea of Galilee:

    My companions three,
    Were fishing by the sea;
    The Arabs captured one,
    The Koords took his brother,
    In one land was I,
    My friends were in another.

    I was left to moan,
    In sorrow deep and sad,
    Like a camel all alone,
    Departing to Baghdad;
    My soul I beg you tell me whether,
    Once parted friends e'er met together?

The Bedawin have as low an idea of girls as the Bedawin in the cities,
and are very glad when a boy is born. Sometimes when the Abeih girls are
playing together, you will hear a little girl call out, "it is very
small indeed. Why it is a little wee thing, as small as was the
rejoicing the day I was born!" But hear what the Bedawin women sing when
a boy is born:

    Mashallah, a boy, a _boy_!
    May Allah's eye defend him!
    May she who sees and says not _the Name_,
    Be smitten with blindness and die in shame!

How would you like to live among the Bedawin, and have a dusky Arab
woman, clad in coarse garments, covered with vermin and odorous of
garlic and oil, to sing you to sleep on a mat on the ground?

    Hasten my cameleer, where are you going?
    It is eventide, and the camels are lowing:
    My house in a bundle I bear on my back,
    Whenever night comes, I my bundle unpack.

The next is a song of the pastoral Arabs:

    Hasten my guide and lead us away,
    For we have fought and lost the day;
    To the well we went all thirsty and worn,
    The well was dry! and we slept forlorn.

    The Bedawin came in battle array,
    Attacked us all famished at break of day
    And took all our camels and tents away!

Death enters the Bedawin tents as well as the palaces of kings and the
comfortable homes of the people in Christian lands. But what desolation
it leaves behind in those dark sorrowing hearts, who know nothing of the
love of Jesus and the consolations of the gospel. This is a funeral song
the poor Bedawin women sing over the death of a child:

    Oh hasten my camel, begone, begone,
    Oh haste where your loved ones stay:
    There weep and lament. There my "spirit" is gone,
    Is gone to a night without day:
    Oh Star of the Morning, thou Star of the day,
    And Star of the Evening, both hasten away,
    And bring me a balm for my wounded heart,
    For I from my child, my "spirit" must part.

Soon may the "day dawn, and the day star arise" in their dark hearts,
and Jesus the "Bright and Morning Star" be their portion forever!

The next song is about the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Thousands of Greeks,
Armenians and Catholics go to Jerusalem every year to visit the "Holy
Places," and get a certificate of the pardon of all their sins. The
Greek Patriarch performs a lying imposture called the Holy Fire every
year at Greek Easter, by lighting a candle with a match inside a dark
room, and declaring that it is miraculously lighted by fire which comes
forth from the tomb of Christ! So the poor Greek woman sings to her
child:

    Oh take me on a pilgrimage,
    Jerusalem to see:
    The Tomb of Christ and Holy fire,
    And Hill of Calvary:
    And then I'll to the Convent go,
    Ask pardon for my sin:
    And say, my Lady, now forgive,
    And comfort me again.

The next is really beautiful, and is good enough for any mother to sing
to her child. It is a morning song:

    Praise to Him who brings the light,
    And keeps the birds in darkest night.
    God is merciful to all,
    Rise ye men and on Him call!
    Allah praise in every lot,
    He keeps you and you know it not.

And this one too, about the little worms, is curious enough:

    Praise to Him who feeds the worms,
    In the silent vale!
    Provides their portion every day,
    Protects them in the dangerous way.
    No doubt they praise Him too, and pray,
    In the silent vale!

When our good friend Yusef, whom we saw in Safita, asked the Nusairîyeh
women to repeat to him their nursery rhymes, they denied that they had
any. They were afraid to recite them, lest he write them down and use
them as a magic spell or charm against them. When a child is born among
them, no one is allowed to take a coal or spark of fire from the house
for a week, lest the child be injured. They always hang a little coin
around the child's neck to keep off eruptions and diseases from its
body.

You must be weary by this time, after Handumeh's wedding and the story
telling and the Bedawin songs. Let us retire to rest for the night,
thankful for the precious Bible, and the knowledge of Jesus Christ. You
are safe indeed in the hands of God, and need not fear the Ghoul nor the
Bah'oo. Good night.

Such is life. Yesterday a wedding, and to-day a funeral. Do you hear
that terrific wail, those shrieks and bitter cries of anguish? Young
Sheikh Milham has died. The Druze and Christian women are gathered in
the house, and wailing together in the most piteous manner. It is
dreadful to think what sufferings the poor women must endure. They do
everything possible to excite one another. They not only call out,
"Milham, my pride, my bridegroom, star of my life, you have set, my
flower, you have faded," but they remind each other of all the deaths
that have occurred in their various families for years, and thus open
old wounds of sorrow which time had healed. Yet they have regular
funeral songs, and we will listen while they sing in a mournful strain:

    Milham Beg my warrior,
    Your spear is burnished gold;
    Your costly robes and trappings,
    Will in the street be sold.
    "Where is the Beg who bore me?"
    I hear the armor crying--
    Where is the lord who wore me?
    I hear the garments sighing.

Now Im Hassein from Ainab bursts out in a loud song, addressing the
dead body, around which they are all seated on the ground:

    Rise up my lord, gird on your sword,
    Of heavy Baalbec steel;
    Why leave it hanging on the nail?
    Let foes its temper feel!
    Would that the Pasha's son had died,
    Not our Barmakeh's son and pride!

Then Lemis answers in another song in which they all join:

    Ten thousands are thronging together,
    The Beg has a feast to-day;
    We thought he had gone on a visit,
    But alas, he has gone to stay.

Then they all scream, and tear their hair and beat their breasts. Alas,
they have no light beyond the grave. Who could expect them to do
otherwise? The Apostle Paul urges the Christians "not to sorrow even as
others which have no hope!" This is sorrow without hope. The grave is
all dark to them. How we should thank our Saviour for having cast light
on the darkness of the tomb, and given us great consolation in our
sorrows! Here comes a procession of women from Kefr Metta. Hear them
chanting:

    I saw the mourners thronging round,
    I saw the beds thrown on the ground;
    The marble columns leaning,
    The wooden beams careening,
    My lord and Sheikh with flowing tears,
    I asked what was its meaning?
    He sadly beckoned me aside,
    And said, To-day _my son_ has died!

Then an old woman, a widow, who has been reminded of the death of her
husband, calls out to him:

    Oh, Sheikh, have you gone to the land?
    Then give my salams to my boy,
    He has gone on a long, long journey,
    And took neither clothing nor toy.
    Ah, what will he wear on the feast days,
    When the people their festal enjoy?

Now one of the women addresses the corpse:

    Lord of the wide domain,
    All praise of you is true.
    The women of your hareem,
    Are dressed in mourning blue.

Then one sings the mother's wail:

    My tears are consuming my heart,
    How can I from him bear to part.
    Oh raven of death, tell me why,
    You betrayed me and left him to die?
    Oh raven of death begone!
    You falsely betrayed my son!
    Oh Milham, I beg you to tell,
    Why you've gone to the valley to dwell?
    From far, far away I have come,
    Who will come now to take me back home?

Then rises such a wail as you never heard before. A hundred women all
screaming together and then men are coming to take it away. The women
hug and kiss the corpse, and try to pull it back, while the men drive
them off, and carry it out to the bier. Some of the women faint away,
and a piercing shriek arises. Then you hear the mother's wail again.

Then one sings the call of the dead man for help:

    Oh ransom me, buy me, my friends to-day,
    'Tis a costly ransom you'll have to pay,
    Oh ransom me, father, whate'er they demand,
    Though they take all your money and houses and land.

And another sings his address to the grave-diggers:

    Oh cease, grave-diggers, my feelings you shock,
    I forbade you to dig, you have dug to the rock;
    I bade you dig little, you have dug so deep!
    When his father's not here, will you lay him to sleep?

Then a poor woman who has lately buried a young daughter begins to sing:

    Oh bride! on the roofs of heaven,
    Come now and look over the wall:
    Oh let your sad mother but see you,
    Oh let her not vainly call!
    Hasten, her heart is breaking,
    Let her your smile behold;
    The mother is sadly weeping,
    The maiden is still and cold.

The Druzes believe that millions of Druzes live in China and that China
is a kind of heaven. So another woman sings:

    Yullah, now my lady, happy is your state!
    Happy China's people, when you reached the gate!
    Lady, you are passing,
    To the palace bright,
    All the stars surpassing,
    On the brow of night!

And now the body is taken to be buried, and the women return to the
house, where the wailing is kept up for days and weeks. They have many
other funeral songs, of which I will give two in conclusion:

    Ye Druzes, gird on your swords,
    A great one is dead to-day;
    The Arabs came down upon us,
    They thought us in battle array,
    But they wept when they found us mourning,
    For our leader has gone away!

The next is the lament of the mother over her dead son:

    The sun is set, the tents are rolled,
    Happy the mother whose lambs are in fold;
    But one who death's dark sorrow knew,
    Let her go to the Nile of indigo blue,
    And dye her robes a mourning hue!

And now, my dear boy, our Syrian journey is ended. You have seen and
heard many strange things. Whatever is good among the Arabs, try to
imitate; whatever is evil, avoid. Perhaps you will write to me some day,
and tell me what you think of Syria and the Syrians. Many little boys
and girls will read this long letter, but it is your letter, and I have
written it for your instruction and amusement.

May the good Shepherd, who gave His life for the sheep, lead you beside
the still waters of life, and at last when He shall appear, may He give
you a crown of glory which fadeth not away!

THE END




INDEX.


Arabs of the Jahiliyeh, 1

Arabs of Kinaneh, 2

Arabic Proverbs, 3

Araman, Michaiel, 19, 99

Asîn Haddad, 101

Abu Selim, 138, 260

Abu Mishrik, 148

Aleppo, 151

Asur el Jedid, 168

American Seminary Abeih, 169

Anazy, 182

Arthington, Mr., 181, 184

Ali, 184, 359

Amount of Instruction, 57, 78, 81, 316

Abdullah Yanni, 220

Aintab, 88

Abu Asaad, 274, 276, 283

Abu Isbir, 281

Arab Camp, 295

Abdullamites, 298

Arkites, 262

Abu Hanna, 263

Asaad Mishrik, 233


Burying Alive, 1

Birth of Daughter, 28, 236

B'hamdûn, 93, 121

Bliss, Mrs. Dr., 104

Booth, Wm. A., 105, 106

Bird, Rev., 47, 48, 50, 58, 115

Bistany, Mr., 126, 134, 158, 200

Bedr, Rev. Yusef, 148

Belinda, 149

Bedawin Arabs, 180

British Syrian Schools, 84

Beattie, Rev., 41

Bird, Mrs., 50

Beit Beshoor, 274

Bells, 304

Bedawin Songs, 360


Carabet Melita, 62, 65, 67, 153

Cheney, Miss, 74, 81, 97

Carruth, Miss, 104

Calhoun, Mrs., 79, 114, 197

Crawford, Mrs., 204

Church of Scotland Schools for Jewish Girls, 214

Carabet, Bishop Dionysius, 49

Convent of the Sacred Fish, 296

Camels, 245


Divorce, 14, 17, 29, 37

Druze, 20

Dodds, Dr., 39

De Forrest, Dr., 23, 33, 73, 75, 134, 298

Dales, Miss, 204

Department of Women's Work, 219

Dodge, Dr., 50

Dodge, Mrs., 50, 52, 53

Dog River, 312


El Khunsa, the poetess, 4

Education of Girls, 18, 19

Everett, Miss, 103

Early Age of Marriage, 117

Eddy, Mr., 151

El Hakem, 331, 22

Evil Eye, 336


Female Prayer-Meeting, 56, 74

Ford, Mr., 126, 151, 156

French Lazarist School, 169

Francis Effendi Merrash, 91

Fast of Ramadan, 306

Feller's Soap, 328

Funerals, 316, 364

Female Seminary, Beirût, 222, 315

Fruits, 255

Fisk, Rev. Pliny, 47


Greek School Suk el Ghurb, 169

Ghubrin Jebara, 173

Goodell, Mrs., 50

Games, 319

Greek Priests, 259

Goodell, Dr., 47, 48


Houris, 10

Hamzé, 20

Hala of Abeih, 29

Hammûd, 39

Hums, 140

Hassan, 198

Hicks, Miss, 206

Howe, Fisher, 76, 80

Haj Ibraham, 297


Ishoc, 149, 263

Irish-American United Presbyterian Mission in Damascus, 204

Ishmaelitic Songs, 326

Imprecations, 326


Johnson, Miss, 97

Jacombs, Miss, 98, 225

Jackson, Miss Ellen, 104

Jenan, 136, 162, 165, 191

Jenneh, 136

Jeneineh, 136

Jesuit School Ghuzir, 169

Job, 229


Khozma Ata, 33, 75

Katrina Subra, 93, 95

Koukab es Subah, 33, 126

Koran, 1, 2, 11, 126, 297

Khalil Effendi, 167

Khalil Ferah, 286

King, Dr. Jonas, 47, 48


Latakiah Boarding School, 42

Loring, Miss Sophia, 104

Luciya, Shekkur, 114

Lyde, Mr., 38, 39

Lying, 284

Lullaby, 294

Letters, 311

Lokunda, 242


Moslem Paradise for Women, 10

Moslem Idea of Women, 12, 17

Moulah Hakem, 22, 331

Massacres of 1860, 24, 95, 196, 286

Marriage Ceremony of Druzes, 25

Marie, 43

Maronites, 45

Mason, Miss, 97

Meshakah, Dr., 118

Miriam the Aleppine, 15

Modern Syrian Views, 158

Moslem Schools, 168, 253

Miss Taylor's School Moslem Girls, 213

Methak en Nissa, 21

Metheny, Dr., 40

Manger, 265

Missionary Stations, 249

Miriam, 279, 282

Monasteries, 309

Marriage, 338, 117, 143

Mohammed ed Dukhy, 182, 189, 246


Naman, King of Hira, 3

Nusairîyeh, 35

Nusairîyeh Women, 38

Nejm, 110

Naame Tabet, 201

Nowar, 286

Nursery Songs, 325

Names, 242, 244


Othman, 2

Okkal, 24

Oulad el Arab, 46


Poetesses of Arabs, 6

Position of Woman in Mohammedan World, 7

Prussian Deaconess' Institute Beirût, 206

Post, Dr., 29

Praying, 305

Parsons, Rev. Levi, 47


Qualifications for Missionaries, 53


Rakâsh, the Poetess, 6

Rufka, Gregory, 60, 97, 99, 102, 138, 175, 277

Resha, 110

Raheel, 120

Ruella Arabs, 184


Sa Saah, 3

Schwire, 10

Sheikh Owad, 16

Sheikh Said el Ghur, 19

Sheikh Khottar, 31

Sheikh Mohammed ed Dukhy, 182, 189, 246

Sheikh Aiub el Hashem, 288

Sitt Abla, 30

Syrian Christianity, 46

Stale of Mission in 1828, 49,
  --1834, 51, 53,
  --1841, 55,
  --1846, 57
  --1852, 75,
  --1864, 101

Seclusion of Oriental Females, 52

Sada Gregory, 18, 61, 70

Superstitions, 77, 317, 318, 336

Sada Barakat, 84

Stanton, Miss, 98

Sada el Haleby, 84, 100, 115

Sara Bistany, 101, 136

Smith, Dr., 50, 127

Sarkis, Mr. Ibraham, 127

Sulleba Jerwan, 142

Sara Huntington Bistany, 157

Sitt Mariana Merrash, 162

Sitt Wustina Mesirra, 165

Schools of Syria, 169, 171

Sitt Harba, 183, 185, 359

Safita, 277, 285, 302, 334

Seven Arbitrary Pillars of the Law, 22

Suggestions to Friends of Missions, 224

Sidon Female Seminary, 225

Saad-ed-Deen, 67

Sphere and Mode of Woman's Work, 218

Syed Abdullah, 288

Swine, 306

Story of the Goats and the Ghoul, 343

Story of the Hamam, Butta, etc., 346

Story of the Lion and Ibn Adam, 350

Story of the Jew Rufaiel, 354

Story of the Badinjan, 358

Shepherds, 313

Swearing, 240

Soum el Kebir, 260

Smith, Mrs., 27, 50, 120

Syrian School-Houses, 235


Tribe of Temîm, 3

Triangle of Solomon, 36

Temple, Miss, 97

Thomson, Dr., 48, 100, 123

Thomson, Miss Emilia, 104

Tod, Mrs. Alexander, 122

Thompson, Mrs. Bowen, 208

Thomson, Mrs., 50

Telegraph, 310

Tilden, 33, 54, 60


Van Dyck, 31, 107, 117, 127, 172

Value Set on Woman's Life, 196


Wahidy, 19

Women's Work, 1820 to 1872, 45

Wortabet, Salome, 49, 64

Whittlesey, Mrs. A.L., 74, 78

Watson, Mrs., 98, 204

Women's Boards of Missions, 104

Whiting, Mrs., 31, 57, 63, 125

Wilson, Rev. D.M., 83, 142

Werdeh, 156

Wortabet, Rev. John, 202

Whiting, Rev., 50, 58, 61

Waly, 291

Wortabet, Gregory, 49, 51

Williams, Miss Rebecca, 52, 55


Yusef Jedid, 40

Yusef Ahtiyeh, 278, 281

Yanni, 237, 254, 256, 289, 300, 309

Yusef Keram, 301


Zarifeh, the Poetess, 6

Zeyarehs, 37, 268

Zahara, 39

Zarify, 110

Zahidy, 287




Transcriber's Notes:

Replaced "Beirut" with "Beirût" for consistency throughout the book.
Replaced "Nusairiyeh" with "Nusairîyeh" for consistency throughout the
  book.
Page 147: Added opening parenthesis before "etc., etc."
Page 206: Changed Aitah to Aitath.
Page 273: Changed Inshallah to Inshullah.
Page 311: Changed Mushullah to Mashallah.
Page 370: Changed Abdulla Yanni to Abdullah Yanni.





End of Project Gutenberg's The Women of the Arabs, by Henry Harris Jessup