of the Moslems, but are loosely scattered among orchards of mulberry, poplar, and vine, washed by fresh rills, and have an air of comparative neatness and comfort.  Each has its two or three chapels, with their little belfries, which toll the hours of prayer.  Sad and poetic as is the call from the minaret, it never touched me as when I heard the sweet tongues of those Christian bells, chiming vespers far and near on the sides of Lebanon.

Eden merits its name.  It is a mountain paradise, inhabited by people so kind and simple-hearted, that assuredly no vengeful angel will ever drive them out with his flaming sword.  It hangs above the gorge, which is here nearly two thousand feet deep, and overlooks a grand wilderness of mountain-piles, crowded on and over each other, from the sea that gleams below, to the topmost heights that keep off the morning sun.  The houses are all built of hewn stone, and grouped in clusters under the shade of large walnut-trees.  In walking among them, we received kind greetings everywhere, and every one who was seated rose and remained standing as we passed.  The women are beautiful, with sprightly, intelligent faces, quite different from the stupid Mahometan females.

The children were charming creatures, and some of the girls of ten or twelve years were lovely as angels.  They came timidly to our tent (which the men had pitched as before, under two superb trees, beside a fountain), and offered us roses and branches of fragrant white jasmine.  They expected some return, of course, but did not ask it, and the delicate grace with which the offering was made was beyond all pay.  It was Sunday, and the men and boys, having nothing better to do, all came to see and talk with us.  I shall not soon forget the circle of gay and laughing villagers, in which we sat that evening, while the dark purple shadows gradually filled up the gorges, and broad golden lights poured over the shoulders of the hills.  The men had much sport in inducing the smaller boys to come up and salute us.  There was one whom they called “the Consul,” who eluded them for some time, but was finally caught and placed in the ring before us.  “Peace be with you, O Consul,” I said, making him a profound inclination, “may your days be propitious! may your shadow be increased!” but I then saw, from the vacant expression on the boy’s face, that he was one of those harmless, witless creatures, whom yet one cannot quite call idiots.  “He is an unfortunate; he knows nothing; he has no protector but God,” said the men, crossing themselves devoutly.  The boy took off his cap, crept up and kissed my hand, as I gave him some money, which he no sooner grasped, than he sprang up like a startled gazelle, and was out of sight in an instant.