stand? They hold the Maronite as the most docile of churches; the people as the most primitive and pious of all those who acknowledge the religious supremacy of Rome. Here no heresy has ever disturbed conscience, no local pretensions submerged authority. They see in the Maronite, piety and faith conjoined with primitive simplicity, and yet they adopt the same course! The one or the other must be completely mistaken. The Roman church is assailed in the customs of this people, and that church, with 10,000 times the means of their rivals, is engaged in subverting those customs. "In twenty years," said Father Amayana, " every thing which gives value to this country will have disappeared : in the pursuit of a vague and unknown something out of themselves, they will have thrown away the chance of making something of themselves." True indeed, the words of Father Amayana are without reply. The Superior here, to hear him, was on earth the man most deploring his own handiwork. None could look on Europe with more pity or contempt, or on this country with more sorrow. To hear him, he was the very man to send to the Lebanon to reform the Catholic colleges, and to shew the instructors that it was not necessary to pull about a child's clothes to teach him the alphabet, or to cause him to scoff at his parents in order to learn the use of the globes. I did not go into the classes; I had had quite enough in seeing the children at their dinner, and parading like soldiers through the corridors. The education seems of the poorest order, and in so far presented a favourable contrast with the establishment at Gazir. Disappointed as I had been with the Jesuits, I now recognized their superiority; and perhaps if they were known here, as they were formerly in Germany, as the "Spanish Fathers," that is, if Spaniards instead of Frenchmen were employed in the missions of the Lebanon, the old Iberian instinct might be touched by the ancient, the graceful, the beautiful, the simple things of Canaan. Jan. 11th.-From Antoura to Nahar el Kelb is an hour. You come suddenly on the river, which has cut its deep and tortuous bed through a stratum of limestone, the grey faces of which are fringed with terraces of mulberries. You descend abruptly to the river, then follow on the right side a bend of its course till you come in sight of the sea, and there it is crossed by an antique bridge. The water is conducted on levels along both banks for mills, and the irrigation of the mulberry plantations, which are extensive, and supply the country all around with young plants: we constantly met loads of them on the road. Before reaching the bridge, you pass close under the arches of an ancient aqueduct, which supports the canal against the face of the rock. On crossing the bridge you come on the first of those records, which have rendered this spot famous. It is a slab, 10 feet long by four deep cut on a large stone, and bearing an Arabic inscription, so eaten by time as to be illegible. At a short distance there is a Latin inscription, recording the widening of the road. You then reach the mouth of the river, and the road, turning to the left, ascends over the rocky, but not precipitous point. Here my expectations were aroused for the cuttings in the unknown tongues: the first appeared to be Egyptian; there was nothing in relief, and the figures had been incised. Close by were two figures in relief, about the natural size, indubitably Assyrian. Proceeding some hundred yards, and at the highest point of the pass, were two pedestals, one on the outer side of the road, the other on the hill side, but not facing each other, or in any way corresponding. On one of these must have stood the wolf, whence the river derived its ancient name, Lycos; or the name of the river suggested the emblem, which in its decay must have been seen by the Arabs, when they changed it to "dog." Hitherto there had been no trace of letters save Arabic and Roman; but here, not on the side of the road, but among the rocks above it, two inscriptions of a more promising kind were visible. On climbing up, an Assyrian monarch revealed himself, with the head and head-dress almost perfect: the lower portion was covered with cuneiform letters, running across the field, and the garments: 36 lines could be made out, but too much worn to be copied, except where the border on the west had protected the stone. Close by, was another effaced Egyptian bas-relief, and higher up another Assyrian one. These monuments indicate the importance of this pass. This post occupied, an army proceeding northward or southward along the coast would have to fall back and penetrate into the heart of the country, and g'o eastward of the Lebanon to pursue its march. It is true that there are no insuperable barriers; but there is an interminable series of rugged chains, presenting the greatest obstacles to an invader, and everywhere natural defences for his enemy. This point forms the northern horn of the bay of Beyrout, which with its country houses glittering in white on the side of the hill, looked, in the morning sun, a commanding city. The distance is three hours, almost entirely along the sandy beach, until at the lazaretto, we struck inwards through the gardens. On the beach lay the wreck of a brig, which went on shore the night I got so opportunely housed at Patroun. For a few weeks I intended taking up my residence at Beyrout, to follow the Provincial Megilis. I had now visited the Lebanon from east to west, and north to south. There scarcely remained a third-rate chief whom I had not seen, nor a district, with the affairs of which I had not become familiar. I had made the acquaintance in the way of administrative business, whilst every political bias was laid |