There is no lack of variety in Lebanon.
There, as our guide over the premises
informed us, forty-eight hours ago the Patriarch
and his household had left the summer
residence at Deeman (which is within a short
distance of the celebrated cedars), and had
left there already three or four feet of snow.
A journey of five hours had brought them to
B'kerke, where—although the day was wet
and somewhat cold—the climate was that of
an English summer.

From the terraced roof of B'kerke we
counted no less than twenty-two churches
and eleven convents, all within a distance of
four or live miles. On every side we heard
the bells tolling for afternoon prayer. Monks
laboured amongst the mulberry plantations
covering the sides of the mountain, and with
help of a glass nuns were to be espied at
work within their convent walls.

The house of B'kerke, formerly a nunnery,
has been converted to its present use for
upwards of a hundred years. Attached to the
building is a handsome church, in which are
several pictures that have been from time to
time presented by the Governments of France
and Austria to successive patriarchs. There
is stabling for two hundred horses; and, within
the house, beds can be made up for as many
guests. Nor is this too much space for the
purposes of hospitality. Every visitor in the
mountain fully expects that he himself, his
horse, and—should he have any—his
followers, are to be lodged and fed by the
Patriarch for at least twenty-four hours. On the
day of our arrival no fewer than eight hundred
persons had partaken of sherbert, coffee,
and pipes; and, of these men, four hundred
had also shared of the mid-day meal, while
there remained two hundred who would also
enjoy supper and bed. Rations for eight
hundred horses (for, in Lebanon, the poorest
ride) had been consumed during the day.

Shortly after sunset we were summoned
to the supper-room, and there we found the
patriarch with about fifty guests of the higher
rank waiting for us before they took their
seats. The Patriarch's place was on a slight
daïs at the head of the table ; and, by his side,
was his vicar, a bishop of the Maronite Church,
who has no bishopric. As strangers and
Europeans we received the place of honour
on the right hand of our host, whilst all the
way down the table emirs, priests, and sheiks
were ranged according to their rank. At our
end of the table plates, spoons, knives and
forks were laid in European fashion, and the
dishes brought to us were cooked and served
in the French manner. The Patriarch, the
bishop-vicar, and one priest of rank were the
only persons at table who ate in our way and
of our dishes. For the rest of the company,
there was Arabic cookery, and they ate with
their hands after the manner of the country.
One bottle of Lebanon wine—the celebrated
vino d'oro—was put down for us ; but of this,
only myself and my companion drank. For
all the rest there was no other beverage than
water. The meal did not last long. Each
person, when he had eaten enough, rose from
his seat, which was then immediately taken
by some bystander of lower rank. Thus,
before the Patriarch and others at our end of
the table had quite finished, the place of an
emir, who had risen from his seat, was taken
by my groom, an Arab lad, not too clean in
his person or too neat in his dress. Thinking
that the man had presumed upon his
association with me as my servant to sit down
before his time—and in the presence of the
Patriarch—I reproved him, and bade him
rise; but I was, in my turn, reproved by the
dignitaries present. "What was this? Had
not the poor man a right to his dinner? Ought
he not to sit down whenever he found a
vacant place?" I could not help smiling as
I thought to myself of the sensation there
would be in England if the groom of one of
his visitors were to sit down at table with his
Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury. Yet
the Maronite Patriarch is a far greater man
in Syria than the Archbishop of Canterbury
is in our own country. Indeed he is, within
the limits of the Kesrouan district of Lebanon,
a greater man, and has far more influence
and power, than the Pope in Rome himself.

When supper was over, and we had, in
Eastern manner, washed our hands with soap
and water, we adjourned, in company with
the Patriarch, the bishop-vicar, and the
guests of rank, to the divan, in which our
first interview with our host had taken
place. Small cups of very hot coffee,
unstrained and unsweetened, were served to us,
and then the long pipes were again brought
in. We all smoked in silence for some time,
until the Patriarch began to talk with some
of those who were placed near him; then
conversation became general throughout the
room. I happened to sit next to our host,
and, having accidentally mentioned that I had
within the last few years spent two winters
in Rome, we immediately found that we had
something in common of which we could
speak, and, after a long talk about the holy
city, the Patriarch, on my questioning him,
gave me a great deal of information about
the Maronite nation, or sect, of which he
may be said to be both temporal and spiritual
head.*

* Throughout the Turkish empire, every Christian
sect is called a Nation. Thus we have in Constantinople
The Greek Nation (meaning those subjects of the Porte
who belong to the Greek Church), The Armenian
Nation, The Catholic Armenian Nation, and so on.
Whilst in Syria we have The Greek Catholic Nation, The
Maronite Nation, and The Jacobite Nation, besides other
smaller sects.

The Maronites are said to number altogether
about two hundred thousand souls, of
which ten or fifteen thousand are fighting
men. They are to be found in all the towns
of Syria, from Aleppo in the north to Tyre
in the south, but are especially to be found
in Beyrout, at the foot of Lebanon. Their