One of the most valuable results of this inquiry is, that a philological reason is thus afforded for that general preservation of the names of ancient sites in Palestine, which has always been considered extraordinary, and perhaps doubtful. The language being unchanged, it is evidently natural that local names should be also unchanged, the original meaning being understood by the peasantry in most cases. Many instances of this might be brought forward, and the alteration which has occurred in the nomenclature of the country, as a whole, seems wonderfully small, almost every important site retaining its Biblical name. The investigation of the language appears to me to raise the study of identification from an empirical pursuit of fancied resemblances, to the level of a science governed by recognised laws of change and modification, laws which must be observed strictly in all cases of really satisfactory identification.

If we may judge the origin of any people by language, then by their dialect, the descent of the Fellahîn, or “tillers,” may be traced from older inhabitants of Palestine, and perhaps from the pre-Israelite population, which—despite the fierce onslaught of the first Jewish conquerors under Joshua—was, as we may gather from the Bible, never entirely outrooted, but remained in the land (in much the same position as that which the Saxons occupied under their Norman rulers) as a distinct people, though members of the same great family (the Semitic race), regarded as inferior to the Jewish dominant class, “hewers of wood,” “drawers of water,” “the beasts of the people.” It was precisely to this peasantry that the educated Jews of the second century of our era assigned the Aramaic language; the holy Hebrew of the Sacred Books being confined to the priests, by whom chiefly, after the return from the Captivity, that more ancient tongue appears to have been studied.

It is interesting to inquire whether foreign influence is traceable in the peasant language. Foreign words do indeed occur, such as “Burj” for a tower, or “burg,” and El Mineh for a harbour, which has already been explained to be a corruption of the Greek Limen; but these words, with many Crusading names of places which are attached to mediæval or later sites, cannot properly be said to be commonly used in the language; in fact, it is extraordinary to note how very small the influence of foreign conquerors, Greek, Roman, or Frank, seems to have been on the language. The pretentious titles, Eleutheropolis, Nicopolis, Scythopolis, etc., have quite disappeared, and the old native names of these cities, Beth Gubrin, Emmaus, Bethshean, etc., are those now known, with the important exception of Nâblus, the modern name for Neapolis, the ancient Shechem—a change which may perhaps be traced to Jewish hatred of the name of Shechem.

Their language, then, seems to show that the Fellahîn are a people well worthy of study, because apparently of a very ancient stock, which is still preserved comparatively pure; and we may therefore naturally expect their religion, habits, and customs to have an interesting bearing on the graphic accounts of peasant life which are found in the Bible.

By their religious peculiarities, still further light is thrown on the history of the modern Fellahîn.

The professed religion of the country is Islam, the simple creed of “one God, and one messenger of God;” yet you may live for months in the out-of-the-way parts of Palestine without seeing a mosque, or hearing the call of the Muedhen to prayer. Still the people are not without a religion which shapes every action of their daily life, a religion of most complex growth, requiring the utmost patience to enable us to trace it to its various original sources.

In almost every village in the country a small building surmounted by a whitewashed dome is observable, being the sacred chapel of the place; it is variously called Kubbeh, “dome;” Mazâr, “shrine;” or Mukâm, “station,” the latter being a Hebrew word used in the Bible for the “places” of the Canaanites, which Israel was commanded to destroy “upon the high mountains, and upon the hills, and under every green tree” (Deut. xii. 2).

Just as in the time of Moses, so now, the position chosen for the Mukâm is generally conspicuous. On the top of a peak, or on the back of a ridge, the little white dome gleams brightly in the sun; under the boughs of the spreading oak or terebinth; beside the solitary palm, or among the aged lotus-trees at a spring, one lights constantly on the low building, standing isolated, or surrounded by the shallow graves of a small cemetery. The trees beside the Mukâms are always considered sacred, and every bough which falls is treasured within the sacred building.

The Mukâms are of very various degrees of importance; sometimes, as at Neby Jibrîn, there is only a plot of bare ground, with a few stones walling it in; or again, as at the Mosque of Abu Harîreh (a Companion of the Prophet), near Yebnah, the building has architectural pretensions, with inscriptions and ornamental stone-work. The typical Mukâm is, however, a little building of modern masonry, some ten feet square, with a round dome, carefully whitewashed, and a Mihrab or prayer-niche on the south wall. The walls round the door, and the lintel-stone are generally adorned with daubs of orange-coloured henna, and a pitcher for water is placed beside the threshold to refresh the pilgrim. There is generally a small cenotaph within, directed with the head to the west, the body beneath being supposed to lie on its right side facing Mecca. A few old mats sometimes cover the floor, and a plough, or other object of value, is often found stored inside the Mukâm, where it is quite safe from the most daring thief, as none would venture to incur the displeasure of the saint in whose shrine the property has thus been deposited on trust.

This Mukâm represents the real religion of the peasant. It is sacred as the place where some saint is supposed once to have “stood” (the name signifying “standing-place”), or else it is consecrated by some other connection with his history. It is the central point from which the influence of the saint is supposed to radiate, extending in the case of a powerful Sheikh to a distance of perhaps twenty miles all round. If propitious, the Sheikh bestows good luck, health, and general blessings on his worshippers; if enraged, he will inflict palpable blows, distraction of mind, or even death. If a man seems at all queer in his manner, his fellow-villagers will say, “Oh, the Sheikh has struck him!” and it is said that a peasant will rather confess a murder, taking his chance of escape, than forswear himself on the shrine of a reputed Sheikh, with the supposed certainty of being killed by spiritual agencies.

The cultus of the Mukâm is simple. There is always a guardian of the building; sometimes it is the civil Sheikh, or elder of the village, sometimes it is a Derwîsh, who lives near, but there is always some one to fill the water-pitcher, and to take care of the place. The greatest respect is shown to the chapel, where the invisible presence of the saint is supposed always to abide. The peasant removes his shoes before entering, and takes care not to tread on the threshold; he uses the formula, “Your leave, O blessed one,” as he approaches, and he avoids any action which might give offence to the numen of the place.

When sickness prevails in a village, votive offerings are brought to the Mukâm, and I have often seen a little earthenware lamp brought down by some poor wife or mother, whose husband or child was sick, to be burnt before the shrine.

A vow to the saint is paid by a sacrifice called Kôd, or “requital,” a sheep being killed close to the Mukâm, and eaten at a feast in honour of the beneficent Sheikh.

At the festival of Bairam, processions are often made to these shrines; and at the more famous Mukâms—such as Neby Mûsa, near the Dead Sea, or Neby Rubîn, south of Jaffa—hundreds of pilgrims gather round the little building. In 1874 I saw one of these ceremonies at the village of Dhâherîyeh. The chief men of the place assembled in the morning, clad in their best dresses, with spotless turbans and new cloaks, each with his pipe (a luxury forbidden during Ramadân) in his mouth. They marched, chanting, through the village in a compact body, with the Sheikh in front, and they visited two little domed buildings in succession. They did not enter the chamber, though one man looked in through the window, but in conclusion, eight elders, closely packed in a circle, with their arms on one another’s shoulders, swayed slowly backwards and forwards, in a weird and solemn dance resembling an incantation. It was thus, perhaps, that David danced before the ark.

The worship of local personal divinities by the peasantry reminds one strongly of the ancient cultus of the Canaanite tribes, which seems never to have been stamped out during the period recorded in the Bible; and the veneration of sacred trees and sacred hill-tops, which seems thus handed down, is also specially denounced in the Mishna. The Mukâm worship thus forms one more striking point of resemblance between the modern Fellahîn and the original inhabitants of Palestine.

A very curious circumstance with regard to the Mukâms comes to light on careful examination. It is striking to find that the saint or prophet has often a name unmistakably Christian; Bulus (Paul), Budrus (Peter), Metta (Matthew), are instances. In almost all the great Crusading towns, El Khŭdr will be found to have a chapel, now venerated by the Moslems; and El Khŭdr is St. George, as can easily be shown, as, for example, at Darum, where he is also called by the latter name. The plain fact of the matter is, that the peasantry have adopted Christian sacred sites, and have received Christian saints into their Pantheon. This can be proved by innumerable instances, of which the following are among the most striking:

In 1631 A.D., a little chapel was erected by the monks near a cave at the foot of Carmel, and called by them “the School of the Prophets.” In 1635 A.D., a Moslem Derwîsh took possession of the building, and the Mohammedans still hold it. This place is regarded as sacred by the Moslem peasantry, though the shrine is well known to be of Christian origin.

In 1187 A.D., a chapel of St. John stood near the caves of certain hermits, which were opposite Castel Pelegrino, now ’Athlît. A glance at the Survey shows caves still existing east of that fortress, and near them is a little Mukâm of the Prophet Ahia, which is the native name of John the Baptist. Here, then, the Moslems have again adopted a Christian shrine.

In 1432 A.D., Bertrandon de la Brocquiére was shown a mountain between Gaza and Hebron, called the “Penance Mountain of St. John.” A hill called “the place of separation of Ahia” is still shown by the peasantry in that direction.

Nor is it Christian tradition alone which is thus absorbed. Jacob Shelleby, the Samaritan, complained to me that the Moslems had robbed the Samaritans of the “Mosque of the Pillar,” which the latter now believe to have been the scene of Joshua’s “pillar by the oak,” near Shechem, just as they robbed the Christians of the little chapel at the Hizn Y’akûb, also close to Nâblus.

It might, perhaps, be argued that the reason of this adoption of Christian sites by Moslems is to be sought in a common origin of Christian and native tradition, and that the adoption proves the sites to be authentic. It is easier to advance this theory than to disprove it; yet the tomb of Samuel is now fixed by a tradition, which was not generally accepted until after the twelfth century, and the venerated tomb of Moses, which is connected with the site of an old monastery, is now shown west of Jordan, in plain contradiction to Scripture. Surely these, at least, are not genuine sites; but above all, the tradition still preserved by the Bedawîn which connects the “high mountain” of Our Lord’s Temptation with a hill 500 feet below the level of the Mediterranean (see page 205) cannot be regarded as anything but a monkish legend.

Stories may be collected among the peasantry which are evidently garbled versions of Scriptural episodes. The actors are sometimes local worthies, such as Sheikh Samat, whose tomb seems to be the supposed sepulchre of Samson, which was shown by the Jews in the fourteenth century; in other cases they are the companions of the Prophet, and especially Imâm ’Aly, while the enemies of the Faithful are represented as Christians.

It has been thought by some that these tales are really ancient and of value; but I believe that a much more probable origin is to be found in the teachings of mediæval monks. In more than one case the sites connected with these stories were also recognised in the middle ages; as, for instance, the so-called tomb of Samson—not in Zoreah, but in Gaza—now called by the Moslems “Aly the Enslaved,” and corresponding to the mediæval tomb of Samson also at one time shown in Gaza. The site of the Tomb of David in Jerusalem can also be traced to a Christian tradition of late date, and so with many others too numerous to mention; and there is, as far as I have been able to find, no proof that any of these garbled versions of Bible events are genuinely ancient or derived from native tradition. Even the legend of the Fenish, or Philistines, which seems to be the most probably genuine tradition yet collected, is of dubious origin, for the peasants say that the Fenish were Christians, and the sites connected with the name are invariably Crusading towns or fortresses.

The very general preservation of mediæval and Byzantine sacred places among the peasantry is evidence of the great influence which the monks in the middle ages must have possessed. Jerome speaks of the “great number of the brethren” living in Palestine in his days, and the ruins found in every part of the country show that from the fifth to the thirteenth centuries it must have literally swarmed with monks and hermits. The peasantry seem to retain almost an affectionate memory of the convents; the titles “Monastery of Good Luck,” “Charitable Convent,” etc., show the appreciation in which these institutions were formerly held; and perhaps the sincere efforts of many good men for the conversion of the heathen may still be traced in the blind veneration which is bestowed by Moslems, who “know not what they worship,” on sanctuaries which were, as their modern names show, originally dedicated to the patron saints of the now despised and hated Christians, who once ruled the land.

The Mukâms may be divided into the following six groups. First, there are the places Sacred to well-known Scriptural characters, the sites being generally derived from Jewish tradition, and apparently authentic—as, for instance, the tombs of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Eleazar, and Phinehas. Noah also has many Mukâms in Palestine; and to one, at least, is attached a curious tradition of the Flood, which is supposed to have welled up from a spring near the sacred place. Seth, Shem and Ham have also Mukâms in Philistia, and the twelve patriarchs have places sacred to them, with the exception of Gad, Issachar, Asher, and Naphtali. The tomb of Joshua seems also to be preserved, as noticed in a former chapter.

The second class of Mukâms consists of sacred places derived from Christian tradition, which, as above shown, is a very large one.

The third includes many saints who cannot easily be identified, as the Prophets Kamil, ’Anîn, Baliân, and Nurân, with many others. In this class many pairs of saints may be included, as “the Sheikh of the Olive” and his mother; Sheikh Waheb (“the devoted”) with his sister S’adeh, and many others, survivals perhaps of the old Phœnician duads and triads: to this class we may add a number of female saints who have descriptive names.

The fourth class consists of well-known historical characters now held in high veneration, including the various Companions of the Prophet, and many yet more modern personages, such as Sheikh Shibleh and Sheikh Abu Ghôsh, who were famous bandits in 1700 and 1813 respectively.

The fifth class of Sheikhs, consisting of those with descriptive titles, is, perhaps, in some respects the most important; for from these we learn most of the common ideas of the peasantry as to their saints. Thus we have among them Sheikhs called the Persian, the Median, the Æthiopian, the raingiver, the healer, the inspired, the madman, the idiot, the protector, the just, the wise, the serpent-charmer, the pilgrim, and the champion, with a host of others, showing how varied are the supposed characters and powers of these invisible guardians.

The sixth class includes those Sheikhs with common names, such as Abraham, David, Joseph, Mohammed, etc., which, as a rule, are of but little importance.

We have, then, in this great Pantheon of local deities, a jumble of traditions, Jewish, Christian and Moslem, showing the various influences which have successively acted on the peasantry. There are, indeed, indications of possibly ancient traditions, but the large majority at least of those current among the peasantry are probably traceable to monkish origin, and in many cases are evidently not older than the middle ages.

The stories usually related of the Sheikhs are neither interesting in themselves, nor do they apparently conceal any mythological meaning. One saint flew through the air after death in her coffin; a second prayed with his cloak spread on the sea; the bones of a third were collected by his dog, and carried to a mountain-top where they still lie buried; a fourth called the remains of his camel, which had been partly eaten by infidels, from a dust-heap, the camel answering his appeal with an audible voice, and gathering its scattered limbs and bones to form a living beast again. In the main the stories are childish, and resemble those current among the Italian peasantry of the present day in connection with Christian saints.

These traditions are not easily collected, partly because of the distrust which the peasants show towards strangers, partly from their fear of the displeasure of the saint, partly because such stories are considered rather the women’s business; in many cases the real history is, however, evidently forgotten, and the peasant answers that it is “from ancient times,” and that he worships because his father and grandfather did so before him. Such forgetfulness or ignorance as to the origin of certain Mukâms is universal among the peasantry, and I have been assured by those best acquainted with the natives that it is genuine.

There is a difference in intelligence between inhabitants of different districts, and in different grades of peasant society, but even the least ignorant know scarcely anything, while the cowherds and goatherds are very little better than brute beasts. There was something almost pathetic in the childish confidence which the poor peasants seemed to repose in the wisdom and power of the English. Habîb told one man that the English would some day take the country, and that then the poor would be made rich; and his listener actually believed that, because he was the poorest, he would be made king of the district. Another Fellah said he had heard that the French had bought the sea; a third thought that we were going to take away the ground in boxes.

Most of the peasantry believed we were seeking for hid treasure, which by incantation would be wafted to England; and some supposed that we were parcelling out the land, and erecting cairns on the high mountains where the chief men would build their houses. Sometimes they dug for gold under our cairns; often they pulled them down, and had in consequence to be imprisoned. A shepherd in Galilee saw us levelling, and had a vague idea we were making a railway. “Will you let the sea into Jordan?” he asked; “or will the steamships go on wheels?” Such are a few instances of common Fellah ideas. The peasantry could hardly believe that in England there were no Arabs living in tents, and no camels; and they supposed that though Christians might be more numerous there than among themselves, still the majority of the population in every European country must be Moslem.

Belief in the supernatural powers of certain persons of superior sanctity is not confined, among the peasantry, to the dead. Many living saints are also recognised in Palestine. Thus we heard of a man who fell into a well, and called on a famous living Wely or “favourite of God” at Jaffa; a hand, he said, pulled him out, and on going to the house of the Wely, the latter declared he had heard him some ten miles off, and had assisted him. The peasants are naturally prone to believe the marvellous, and such stories are devoutly credited.

The most peculiar class of men in the country is that of the Derwîshes, or sacred personages, who wander from village to village, performing tricks, living on alms, and enjoying certain social and domestic privileges, which very often lead to scandalous scenes. Some of these men are mad, some are fanatics, but the majority are, I imagine, rogues. They are reverenced not only by the peasantry, but also sometimes by the governing class. I have seen the Kady of Nazareth ostentatiously preparing food for a miserable and filthy beggar, who sat in the justice hall, and was consulted as if he had been inspired.

A Derwîsh of peculiar eminence is often dressed in good clothes, with a spotless turban, and is preceded by a banner-bearer, and followed by a band, with drum, cymbal, and tambourine. In one case at Kannîr, the banner-bearer was a negro, who worked himself into a sort of fury, foamed at the mouth, and charged at us with the sharp spear-head of the flag. As a rule, however, the saint is half-naked, and perhaps blind, and holds a tin pot or plate for alms. One of this class, a fine old mendicant from Mecca, with a shock head of uncut locks, came, spear in hand, to our Jeb’a camp and offered, for a fee, to “pray for the column (or cairn) in the day of our journeying.” Another ran before us for a mile or more (as Elijah ran before Ahab’s chariot), shouting loudly as he went.

It is natural to reflect whether the social position of the Prophets among the Jews may not have resembled that of the Derwîshes. Revered by the people, but hated by the ruling class when their influence was directed against the king, or the court religion, the Prophets, though solitary, poor, and unaided, became powerful in times of religious revival, when they suddenly assumed the position of leaders, and became persons of political importance, just as a Derwîsh might do even now in times of fanatical excitement.

The Derwîshes belong to regular tribes with recognised chiefs: thus there are the Raf’ai or “snake-charmers,” who draw out serpents from their holes, and who are regularly initiated by their Sheikh, who is a disciple of the “Saint of God, Raf’ai,” who came from Egypt. There are many others, including those who perform strange feats—eating scorpions, or sticking sharp swords into their cheeks or eyes. By Europeans in Palestine the Derwîshes are generally regarded as impostors.

The peasantry have numerous superstitions: they believe in incantations, in charms, in divination by sand and other means, and in the evil eye, their children being purposely left dirty, or even besmirched, to avoid the consequences of an envious look. The belief in evil spirits is also general. These include first the jan, or powerful demon, good or bad, the latter kind having for bodies the tall smoke-pillars of the whirlwind, so commonly seen in summer; secondly, the ’Afrît, who is seemingly equivalent to a ghost; thirdly, the Ghoul, or Hag of the cemetery, which feeds on the dead: a place haunted by one of these demons is carefully avoided, or at least never approached without the most polite salutations, intended to appease the unseen spirit: fourthly, there are the Kerâd or “goblins,” whose name is akin to the Arabic word for a monkey; lastly, there is the Shaitân or Satan, a name often applied to human beings of an evil disposition.

Among the peculiar religious institutions of the country are the sacred trees, which are generally oaks, or terebinths, with names taken from some Sheikh to whom they belong. They are covered all over with rags tied to the branches, which are considered acceptable offerings.

On most of the great roads piles of stones will be found, erected at some commanding point, and consisting of little columns a foot high, made up of perhaps a dozen pieces of rock one above another. They are called Meshâhed or “monuments,” and they mark the spot whence some famous sanctuary is first seen by the pilgrim.

Last of all the Shûsheh should be mentioned, the one long tuft of hair left at the back of the shaven head, by which the Moslems believe that the angel Gabriel will bear them to heaven. This fashion of wearing the hair is traced back to primitive times, and is thought to be connected with the worship of Tammuz.

The great fasts of the Moslem religion are most rigorously observed by the more pious among the peasantry. During the month of Ramadân many of them will travel or toil all day without drinking, eating, or smoking, and some even keep ten days more than the prescribed number, as a work of supererogation. Bairam, with its feast of flesh, which is perhaps the only meat tasted by the Fellah during the year, is but a slight recompense for this self-denial, which is yet more trying in a hot and wearisome climate.

Such are the blind and confused religious views of the so-called Moslem peasantry. It cannot but be evident to any observer who stays long in the country, that the fatalism of the creed has a most unhappy influence on the people. Christian villages thrive and grow, while the Moslem ones fall into decay; and this difference, though due perhaps in part to the foreign protection which the native Christians enjoy, is yet unmistakably connected with the listlessness of those who believe that no exertions of their own can make them richer or better, that an iron destiny decides all things, without reference to any personal quality higher than that of submission to fate, and that God will help those who have lost the will to help themselves.

The above notes are necessarily much condensed. But the general result seems to point to an almost unmixed Aramean stock as that from which the peasants of Palestine have most probably sprung. The native divisions of the population are curious and instructive, namely, the various Beni or “Sons” in different districts; thus, for instance, the greater part of Samaria is called “the country of the two tribes,” alluding perhaps to Ephraim and Manasseh. The peasantry are very stationary, and the majority of the villagers have scarcely ever travelled more than ten miles away from home; yet migrations of the various Beni are traditionally said to have occurred in former times, and they would be perhaps worth tracing.

It appears in short that in the Fellahîn, as descendants of the old inhabitants of Palestine, we find a people whose habits and customs are well worthy of study, because we should naturally expect them to throw much light on the Bible narrative. Those habits and customs will now be briefly described.

COSTUMES.
COSTUMES.

CHAPTER XXI.

LIFE AND HABITS OF THE FELLAHÎN.

The wonderful account given by Lane of the life of townsmen in Egypt, would apply almost equally well to the middle classes in Damascus and Jerusalem; but the life and manners of the peasantry are far more valuable in illustration of the Bible narrative than are those of the townsmen; and for this reason the present sketch, however imperfect, will, I hope, prove of some value, by drawing attention to a people who have been as yet but little studied, and who are often confounded with the Bedawîn, or with the governing nation—the Turks—of whom, perhaps, scarcely a hundred are to be found in Palestine.

A Fellah village consists of from twenty to a hundred cabins, huddled together, generally on rising ground and near water. In the hills the village is built principally of stone, the materials being collected from ancient ruins, and hardly ever, I believe, fresh quarried; in the south the roofs have stone domes, in the north they are of brushwood, supported on logs or beams as rafters, and covered with mud, which requires to be rolled every year. The interiors generally contain no furniture beyond bedding, mats, and cooking utensils; the house has no chimney, and the smoke of the wood fire goes out at the wooden door, or by the unglazed windows. Among the better class of the peasantry a few carpets will be found in use; and a raised diwân, as described in the account of our feast at Jeb’a, occupies part of the room. The village generally has one high house, of two storeys, in its middle, where the Sheikh or hereditary chief lives; booths are erected in summer on the roofs of the houses, where the inmates sleep at night; on the outskirts of the village are orchards of fig or pomegranate, with hedges of prickly pear, and perhaps fine olive-groves; close by is the Mukâm, with its white dome, and round it the shallow graves with rough headstones, between which the purple iris (or lily of Palestine) grows very commonly, while in the better-built tombs a little hollow for rain water is scooped in the covering slab of stone, as an act of charity towards thirsty birds.

In the plains the only difference in the villages is, that the cabins are built of sun-dried brick, and roofed with mud. The bricks are made in spring by bringing down water into ditches dug in the clay, where chopped straw is mixed in with the mud; thence the soft mixture is carried in bowls to a row of wooden moulds or frames, each about ten inches long by three inches across; these are laid out on flat ground and are squeezed full, the clay being then left to harden in the sun. The houses thus built require to be patched every year, and the old roofs are covered in spring with grass self-sown, which withers as soon as the sun becomes strong (Ps. cxxix. 6).

The population of a village averages about four hundred, ranging from thirty or forty, up to a thousand in the well-built Galilean towns. The men are employed in agriculture, the boys tend the flocks, the women cook and fetch water. The first scene on approaching a village is that at the well or spring, to which lithe damsels and portly matrons, scantily clad, bring down the great black or brown jars, returning rapidly with the load of water poised on a pad on the head. The screaming, scolding, and chatter of these crowds of women passes all description; if of one of them the traveller asks for the Sheikh, he still receives the old answer, “Behold, he is before you” (1 Sam. ix. 12).

On entering the village the Ghŭfr or “watchman” (2 Sam. xviii. 24) is next met, and the stranger is brought to the guest-house (Saha), where he is served with coffee, and entertained at the public expense, a small gratuity being given to the Ghŭfr on leaving. The visitor will be struck above all with the power exercised by the Sheikh, or by the elders, and with the respect for age, and for etiquette, leaving the impression of a patriarchal form of society, which really exists among the villagers.

The food of the peasants is almost entirely vegetable, consisting of unleavened bread dipped in oil, of rice, olives, grape-treacle (Dibs), clarified butter (Semn), and eggs, besides gourds, melons, marrows, and cucumbers; in times of scarcity the Khobbeizeh, or mallow, cooked in sour milk or oil, forms an important element. Meat they hardly ever touch, save at the great feast, or at the Kod sacrifices; and their drinks consist simply of water and coffee, both of which they imbibe in enormous quantities. To this diet the beauty of their white teeth, the toughness of their constitutions, the rapidity with which their wounds heal, are no doubt traceable, while the prominent stomachs of the children are due to drinking too much water. Coffee with lemon-juice is also commonly used as a remedy for dysentery.

The costume of the Fellahîn differs in various parts of Palestine, resembling that of the Egyptians in the south, and that of the Lebanon mountaineers in the north, while in Samaria it is more distinctive. The dress of Christians is also entirely different from that of the Moslems.

The typical male peasant dress in Palestine consists of five articles only. On the head is the turban, consisting of a woollen or silk shawl, wound round a red cap (Tarbûsh) with a blue tassel, inside which cap is a second, or perhaps two, felt caps (Libdeh), and within these again is a white cotton skull-cap stitched all over (Takîyeh). The colour of the turban shawl among the richer, or more pious, is white; a Sherîf or descendant of the Prophet wears a green Mukleh, or large turban, and the Samaritan colour for the turban is crimson. In the south of Palestine the commonest kind is striped with yellow and chocolate. This respected head-dress, which is never willingly taken off in public, is drawn down behind the ears, thus causing them to grow out at right angles, or even to become doubled down.

The body is covered with a long shirt, which is made extremely full, with sleeves down to the knees; this dress is confined by a broad leather belt (Matt. iii. 4), to which a clasp-knife is often hung. The shirt reaches to the ankles, but during a journey the peasant girds up his loins (1 Kings xviii. 46), bringing the hem of the shirt between his legs up to his belt, and thus leaving the legs bare to the mid thigh. The sleeves are often used as receptacles for money, which is knotted up in a corner, while valuable papers are kept inside the Libdeh, and bread or other provisions are thrust between the shirt and the skin, above the belt. The sleeves are often tied together with a cord between the shoulders, leaving the arms bare. The shirt is open in front from the neck to the waist.

The fourth article is the ’Abba—a cloak coarsely woven of wool; those made of better materials are black, with coloured binding, and in summer a very light thin white cloak is used in riding; but the typical ’Abba is striped white and brown (or indigo) in broad vertical stripes; it is cut square, with holes for the arms, and is shaped to the neck behind, being a comfortable, but not an elegant, garment.

The feet are shod with leather shoes, which are generally red, with pointed toes, and a long pointed flap behind. Horsemen, however, wear the red boot to the knee, with a tassel in front.

The richer peasants wear, in addition to other garments, the Kumbâz, or cotton gown, striped in red and purple, or in yellow and white, with narrow vertical stripes; and they even have the Jubbeh, or short cloth jacket: both of these articles are worn by the townsmen.

The Kufeiyeh, or shawl head-dress of the Bedawîn, is worn by the boys and herdsmen in many parts. The shape of the turban also differs in various districts, being very high in the centre of the country, and large in the south. The shawl is sometimes twisted, sometimes laid in flat folds. The enormous turbans once worn are now scarcely seen, though a few old men among the peasant Sheikhs will put them on for great ceremonies.

The dress of the women is, as might be expected, far more varied. In Philistia it resembles that of Egypt—a full blue robe, sweeping the ground, a black head-shawl, and a face-veil hanging from the eyes to the waist, supported by a wooden or metal cylinder, which acts as a clasp, fixing the face-veil to the head-veil. These face-veils are ornamented with a fringe of silver or gold coins. In Gaza and Ashdod the women wear a sort of visor, covering the nose, mouth, and chin, and made of white stuff, ornamented with gold coins.

In the Jerusalem and Hebron hills the dress is less complicated, and is probably unchanged since the earliest times, for it could not well be simpler. The blue shirt is not quite so full as that of the men, but it is rather longer, and the sleeves are pointed. No face-veil is worn, but a heavy white head-veil comes down to the waist, and the requirements of modesty are supposed to be fully met by drawing this over the mouth, or, if the woman’s hands are engaged, by holding the corner in the teeth.

As the traveller advances northwards, through Samaria and Lower Galilee, he meets with another distinct costume: a dress with tight sleeves and fitting the figure, descends half-way below the knees; a chemise is worn under it, having sleeves full at the wrist, and a pair of blue cotton drawers or trousers—peg-topped in shape, tight at the ankle, and fuller above—appear under the dress, which is generally of striped stuff, purple (or pink) and white. A heavy sash is wound round the waist, and a coif or kerchief is tied over the head, while the hair is cut in a thick fringe above the eyebrows. This is the dress of the girls, and that of the matrons sometimes differs only in the headgear, though many of them wear the full white shirt, as in the south, with a black cloak drawn over the head.

The women’s head-dress in Samaria has never, apparently, been very accurately described, but it is of peculiar interest. It is a sort of bonnet, with a horse-shoe shape in front, and on the front are sewn silver coins, lapping over one another, and making a crescent-shaped tire round the forehead and down to the ears. This tire is bound by a handkerchief round the head. It is apparently heavy, and a woman will carry her dowry of perhaps £5 round her face. Seen in profile, it makes the forehead appear high and the back of the head depressed. A crimson face-veil is attached to it, covering the mouth, chin, and breast. There can be little doubt that in these head-dresses we find still in use the “round tires like the moon,” against which the prophet inveighs (Isaiah iii. 18). This costume is the one shown in the illustration.

The women have fine eyes, and the use of kohel—a mixture of soot and other substances—skilfully applied to the lashes has certainly a good effect; but the little daubs of indigo or soot, rubbed into punctures which are made by a bunch of needles, forming regularly tattooed patterns on the face, breast, feet, and hands, have anything but a pleasing appearance. A single mark between the eyes is usual, and looks not unlike a patch (Lev. xix. 28).

The use of henna is common to men and women alike. Henna is a sign of rejoicing, and is not worn in mourning. At a marriage, the tails of the horses and the doors of the house are coloured with it, as well as the faces and hands of the guests. Women colour the nails, the finger-joints, and the palms of the hands. A little henna has rather a pretty effect, being a sort of orange-red in colour.

Bracelets and anklets are worn, the commonest being of coloured glass such as is manufactured at Hebron, or of bad silver; various charms and amulets for protection against the evil eye are also carried.

The dress of the Christians in Palestine differs from that of the Moslems. It consists of a shirt with tight sleeves, a waistcoat of a flowered or embroidered pattern, a shawl neatly wound round the waist, trousers, of blue cotton or of cloth, reaching to the ankles, and of the baggy description commonly shown in sketches; and lastly, they wear a short cloth jacket with tight sleeves, open in front, called Jubbeh, which, as above noticed, is sometimes worn by the richer Moslem Sheikhs, and by the townsmen. The Christians wear the Kufeiyeh in travelling, or the Tarbûsh, with the inner caps, but without the roll of silk or stuff which forms the turban.

The ordinary dress of Christian women is very picturesque; their dark curly hair is confined by a little kerchief folded diagonally with the peak behind. Their jackets of striped or flowered stuff fit tightly to the figure, and show the shirt in front; and they wear the Shintiyân, or trousers, made as full as a petticoat, tied below the knee, and falling in plaits round the ankle—an extremely graceful and pleasing dress.

The above description of Christian costume applies chiefly to the Galilean district, for the Christians are most numerous in Upper Galilee. In Nazareth, where the peasantry are rich, the white Izâr, or enveloping mantle of linen, coming over the head and swelling out like a balloon round the figure, is worn by the women; but this is, properly speaking, the dress of townsfolk, not of the agricultural classes.

The Bethlehem costume is unique. The men, though Christian, wear the turban, and also the Kumbâz, or striped dressing-gown of cotton, which is generally adopted by the upper classes. The dress of the women consists of the full shirt with painted sleeves, but it is made, like Joseph’s coat, of many colours, and has broad squares of yellow or red let in to the breast or sleeves, giving a most striking brilliancy of colour. The girls wear a white veil, the matrons an extraordinary cylinder of felt, not unlike a Greek priest’s cap, generally sewn over with coins, and partly covered by the white veil. This dress is figured in many works (as in the illustrated edition of Farrar’s “Life of Christ”), and needs no further description. A string of coins often hangs from the bonnet under the chin, and more than one poor woman has been murdered for the sake of her head-dress.

There is a class of the peasantry of whom a few words must now be said, namely, the lepers. The common diseases of the country are ophthalmia, dysentery, fever, and liver complaints; but on the whole the peasantry are healthy, strongly-built, and of great strength and endurance. They drive the lepers from their villages, and oblige them to resort to the miserable communities which live, supported by charity on the outskirts of great towns. Loathed and neglected, they drag on a miserable existence, and propagate a diseased race—a reproach to the Government, which does nothing to assist or control them.

The following notes are obtained from the best possible authority—namely, from Dr. Chaplin, at Jerusalem:

Leprosy appears to be a mysterious disease, the origin of which doctors do not know. It is not peculiar to one nation—Norwegians, Italians, Spaniards, Hindoos, suffer from it, as well as Syrians. It is not caused by food, not seemingly due to climate, and temperature has no connection with it. It is doubtful whether it is contagious or hereditary. One curious fact is that townsmen do not suffer from it, though the lepers live close to the towns. From almost every village a few lepers come to the towns, and notably from the Christian village of Râm-Allah.

The ordinary tubercular leprosy is due to the presence of bacteria in the tubercles, and the disease works out from within, not inwards from without. It appears not to be the same disease described in Leviticus, though the white leprosy—a spot deeper than the skin, with white hairs (Levit. xiii. 3)—is still found in Palestine. The name leprosy is derived from El Burs, a corruption of the Hebrew term used for the disease.

No cure is as yet known for tubercular leprosy, for the reason of the presence of the microscopic parasites is not yet discovered. The prevention of this plague, which is now rather on the increase in Palestine, seems to be possible, if habits of greater cleanliness and morality, with more comfort and better food, could be introduced among the peasantry, and if at the same time strict laws were enforced for secluding the lepers in asylums.

This dreadful plague does not become manifest before the age of twelve, nor later than forty-five. The patients suffer pain at first, and, in later stages, much distress; their physical strength and animal life dies out, and they are, in their own words, “like oxen,” without feeling or intellectual power, scarcely conscious of the outer world; their voices become changed to a feeble whine, husky and querulous; their joints and features waste away, and swelling and black discolouration ensue. The flesh decays, until the appearance of an advanced case is ghastly in the extreme; and a raw wound may be burnt with an iron in their bodies, producing only a slightly pleasing sensation. They die finally of leprosy.

The lepers at Jerusalem live in huts near the south-west corner of the town, inside the wall, and marry lepers, and the disease which reappears in their children thus becomes hereditary.

Turning from this repulsive subject to that of the daily life of the peasantry, we may next notice their marriages, funerals and amusements.

The distinctive physiognomy of each village is extremely striking. In one the people will be good-looking, in another ugly; in each case there is a strong family likeness between the various inhabitants of any one place, which is apparently due to constant intermarriage between the peasants of the same village.

The principal ceremonies connected with weddings are the processions of the bride and bridegroom through the street, accompanied by their friends. The procession of the dower is also accompanied by a band of women, singing, clapping their hands, and uttering shrill cries; but the bride’s fortune among the peasantry is necessarily small, and, as in Italy, a single chest on a mule conveys the whole trousseau.

At Nazareth, in 1872, we witnessed two of these wedding processions, or Zeffehs—one Christian, one Moslem.

First came a group of women clapping their hands in time, and uttering the Zaghârît, or shrill ululations, commonly used as a mark either of joy or of sorrow. Most of them wore over their heads the black cloak with an embroidered border; their palms were dyed with henna, and they had the moon-shaped tire as above described, and tight-fitting bodices of silk, gleaming with red, green, yellow, blue, and purple, in stripes and patches. One woman carried a basket of flowers on her head, with a bottle of wine and a cake. The bride followed, close veiled, dressed in glorious array, mounted on a horse, and supported by three of her female relatives, while two other women held the bridle.

Presently the Zeffeh of the bridegroom passed in turn, consisting of some two hundred of his friends. They were in white, with ’Abbas and with silk Kufeiyehs, or turbans. Many were armed with old brass-bound guns, which they let off at intervals. The shouting crowd went before the bridegroom to the market-place, and there a ring of some hundred and fifty men was formed; they were jammed close together, shoulder to shoulder, clapping their hands and shouting “Alla-lá!” at the top of their voices, their bodies swaying in time, while the best-man, in a green dress, hopped round on one leg, and another man, in a black and purple head-dress, which was tied beneath the chin, his cheeks being reddened with henna, and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, sprinkled rose-water over the whole circle. A gun was let off, and a sort of proclamation was made, after which the clapping was resumed at a furious pace, the best-man becoming almost frantic.

The procession moved on, and the bridegroom appeared on a horse, with a red saddle and a pad behind; in his hand was a nosegay, and over his head an umbrella. He smoked a cigarette, and a small boy in green was mounted behind him. The women of his family followed, and pairs of male guests danced a sort of Mazurka step beside him. But amid all this ceremonial rejoicing there was no real gaiety, no one had a smile on his face, but all was conducted with oppressive decorum.

On the second occasion—that of the Moslem Zeffeh—the women were preceded by a band of tambourines and kettle-drums, the latter fastened on a boy’s back, and beaten by a man who occasionally hit the drum-bearer instead of the drum. The bride wore a pink veil above the Izâr, and a black face-veil, and she was supported by two women, also veiled. The bridegroom was followed by a man carrying a rush-bottomed chair, on which he sat during the dancing. There were two sword-dancers on this occasion, who went through the usual tame performance, which is more effectively executed by the Bedawîn, as will be seen in the next chapter. I was told that the words of the chorus were “Ya ’Aini! Ya ’Aini?”—“O my eye!” a term of endearment.

The ordinary village Zeffeh resembles those above described, but the dresses are not often so gay as those at Nazareth.

Of the native children there is little to be said; they receive, as a rule, no education, and are neither disciplined nor cared for, the affection of the parents being apparently in most cases small. They learn to curse almost as soon as to speak; and I have seen a boy of six or seven throwing stones at his father with the most vile language. They have none of the gaiety of children; but are as solemn as their elders. To animals they are cruel, and to one another mischievous and tyrannical. As the boys grow older, they are sent out to keep sheep, goats, or cows, and they acquire a wonderfully accurate knowledge of the country round the villages; thus the goat-herds are the great authorities as to the names of ruins or springs.

I have only once seen children in Palestine playing at any game; this was near Samaria, and the sport appeared to be a sort of hockey; but as a rule they seem to do nothing but mischief.

The shepherd-boys, however, have a kind of game called Mankalah, which Lane has already described as played in Egypt, and the holes which they make in the rocks for this purpose are often found on the hillsides, and might considerably puzzle archæologists.

MALE DANCERS.
MALE DANCERS.

The adults appear to have no amusements; they say themselves, with terrible truth, that they have “no leisure in their hearts for mirth,” being hopeless and spiritless under their hard bondage of oppression, usury, and violence.

The ordinary amusements of the townsmen are the public readings of romances, the dances of the Egyptian ’Almehs, and games of chess and draughts. Gambling, though considered disgraceful, still is common in towns where low cafés and restaurants exist, but none of these amusements are known in the villages. Once in the Jordan Valley we came across a party of Egyptian dancing girls, journeying from Damascus to their native land, and once in the Lebanon we witnessed the weird performance of some male dancers in female dress, castanets on their fingers, and skirts round their waists, as shown in the illustration taken from a sketch made on the spot; but these performances are very rare, and confined to the wealthier towns, as are also the tricks of conjurers and clowns.

The only sport which may be witnessed among the peasants is the mock tournament of the Jerîd, a combat between two bodies of horsemen, who throw darts or sticks at one another. But the riding is, as a rule, so bad that it has but little interest to an Englishman, accustomed to see better horsemanship. There are often men who ride in front of these cavalcades as clowns; they are called Sutâr, and are dressed in caps to which fox-tails are suspended; the clown, indeed, seems to be the only ideal of comedy which Syrian minds can conceive, their general views of festivity being rather inclined to pomp than to real gaiety.

The last ceremonials to be noticed are those connected with death. Among the Fellahîn they are very simple. The body is buried almost as soon as the breath has left it. Thus, I have seen a boy killed by falling from an olive, and buried within a quarter of an hour. The graves are so shallow that the hyenas often dig up the corpses, and they are only marked by a few stones. The bier, covered with a green cloth, and with the turban placed on it, is followed by the women with shrill shrieks (Zaghârît), and in one instance, near Ascalon, each woman held a handkerchief in her hand, and waved it at the bier as she followed.

Turning next to the ordinary occupations of the Fellahîn, we find them to be an agricultural and pastoral people.

The land tenure in Palestine is of three kinds: Miri, or taxed crown-land; Wakûf, or glebe-land, belonging to mosques and other institutions of a religious character; and lastly, Mulk, or freehold. The taxes of the first two kinds are farmed to the highest bidder. The Mulk-land is of four kinds: first, land inherited since the time of the Moslem conquest; secondly, land legally bestowed from the crown-lands; thirdly, land so bestowed in return for tribute; lastly, tithed lands of which not more than half the produce is due to Government. The Mulk-land is held by private individuals in and round the towns, and pays a now fixed tax to the State.

The lands belonging to the villages which they surround are reckoned by the Feddân, a very indefinite measure, being the amount which a yoke of oxen can plough (or rather two yoke used alternately) working with a single plough for twelve hours per diem during twenty-eight days in the summer and fourteen in the winter. In the hills the Feddân ranges from thirty-six to forty acres, and in the plains from twenty-eight to thirty-six, the soil being richer and heavier. The corn-seed per Feddân is from twenty-five to sixty kilos (Constantinople measure), and the yield per Feddân is about two hundred bushels of wheat, or fifty of barley. The village lands belong in reality to the Crown, and are held in fee-simple, paying tithes and also a fixed tax. They are equally inherited by the sons of a proprietor, but if uncultivated revert to the Crown.

The limits of the lands are marked by valleys, ridges, or large stones, by which also the sub-divisions of the land among the villagers are shown. It is most interesting to note that the word Tahum, used in Hebrew to signify the “limits” of the Levitical cities (Numb, xxxv.), is still employed in the same sense by the peasantry, and in one case a great stone, marking the present boundary of the lands of Es Semû’a (Eshtemoa), which was a Levitical city, is just about the proper distance of 3000 cubits from the village, and is called Hajr et Takhâin, also probably a corruption of Tahum. The village land is annually divided among members of the community according to their power of cultivation.

There is a custom regarding the land which seems of antiquity—namely, the Shkârah, or land which is cultivated by the villagers for any one of their number who is unable to till it himself; thus there is the Shkâret el Imâm, or “glebe of the religious minister,” and Shkâret en Nejjâr, or “carpenter’s portion,” which is cultivated for the village carpenter in return for his services.

The possessions of a village vary from ten to a hundred Feddâns; thus at Abu Shûsheh, for instance, 5000 acres of arable land are held by a place containing some 400 inhabitants.

The ordinary crops are barley and wheat. There are two varieties of bearded wheat, called “hard” and “soft,” the former being considered the best. The yield on the average is six-fold. Oats and rye are unknown, but in addition to the corn, millet, sesame, Indian corn, melons, tobacco, and cotton, are the summer crops; while lentils, beans, and chick-peas, with other vegetables, are grown in winter. Indigo grows wild, and is occasionally cultivated in the Jordan Valley. The land is never allowed to lie fallow, unless through want of labour to cultivate. A rotation of crops is observed, but manure is rarely used. To the list of productions must be added the beautiful and extensive groves of olives, especially noticeable in the low hills, with the vineyards, on the high ridges as at Hebron, where the grape is swelled by the autumn mists, and the fig-gardens, which flourish especially in the Christian district of Jufna and Bîr ez Zeit. Pomegranates, apricots, walnuts, plums, apples, mulberries, pears, quinces, oranges, lemons, and bananas, may be noticed among the fruit-trees which are found in the gardens near springs. The irrigation of the vegetable gardens by means of small ditches trodden by the foot, is another instance of the survival of a Jewish method of cultivation (Deut. xi. 10).

The first agricultural operation is that of ploughing, which is commenced in autumn at the time of the first rains, and again continued in spring for the later crops. The first period is about the end of November, the second in March and April. According to Mr. Bergheim, the first day of the autumn ploughing varies from the 17th of November to the 14th of December.

The plough is of the most primitive kind, very small, with a coulter like an arrow-head, and a single handle like that of a spade, with a cross piece, which is held by one hand, while in the other the ploughman has a stick with a nail at the end, used as a goad. To this pointed spade (as the plough may be called) is attached a long pole, which connects it with the heavy yoke of the cattle. The furrow is extremely shallow, and the instrument, indeed, only scratches the upper soil, leaving virgin earth untouched below. There are generally two ploughs which follow one another, the first perhaps harnessed to a single camel, the second to two small oxen, or to an ox with an ass (Deut. xxii. 10).

The sower follows the plough, and scatters his seed, not only into the good soil of the furrows, but partly among the thistles and artichokes which grow rank in the unturned soil, partly on the beaten path beside the field, partly among the rocks and stones which crop up in patches amid the arable ground (Matt. xiii 3—8).

The barley harvest begins in the plains in April, and continues in the hills as late as June. The stalk of the corn is very short, and the stubble is left comparatively very long. The men sit on their haunches to reap, the sickle (Seif) being not unlike our own. The handfuls thus cut are tied round with a stalk, forming little shocks (Ghamûr), and these are stacked in bundles, and then loaded in nets on camels, and carried to the threshing-floors (Beiyâdir or Jurûn) at the villages. An ancient custom—to which the peasantry can assign no origin—is observed in reaping; the corner of the field is left unreaped, and this is given to the “widows and the fatherless;” this corner is called Jerû’ah, and in the same way a bunch of wheat is left on the ground to be gleaned by the poor and helpless (Lev. xix. 9, 10). These gleanings are threshed by the women separately (Ruth ii. 15—17).

The threshing-floor is a broad flat space, on open ground, generally high; sometimes the floor is on a flat rocky hill-top, and occasionally it is in an open valley, down which there is a current of air; but it is always situated where most wind can be found, because at the threshing season high winds never occur, and the grain is safely stored before the autumn storms commence. The size of the floor varies, from a few yards to an area of perhaps fifty yards square, and rich villages have sometimes two such floors. The grain is thrown down, and trampled by cattle, or by horses attached to a heavy wooden sledge made of two boards and curved up in front. A boy stands or sits on this, and drives the horse. A number of recesses are sunk in the under side of the sledge, and into these small rough pieces of hard basalt (Hajr es Sôda) are let, which, acting like teeth, tear the corn. This instrument is called Môrej, and is supposed to be that mentioned by Isaiah (xli 15) as “having teeth.” The name is the same as the Hebrew Moreg, and the name Jurn, applied commonly to the threshing-floor, is the Hebrew Goran.

In other cases two or four oxen are yoked together and driven round the threshing-floor. I have seen them muzzled, though this is rare (Deut. xxv. 4).

The threshed grain is collected on the floor in a conical heap (Sôbeh), and is winnowed by tossing it with a wooden shovel, or with a three-pronged wooden fork. The wind scatters the chaff, and the grain falls round the heap, and it is afterwards sifted.

A tithe from the threshed grain is still set apart for the Derwîsh or village priest, as for the Levite of old (Num. xviii. 21), and is called Tazukki, or “alms.” The custom is, however, gradually dying out.

The corn is stored in underground granaries, which are carefully concealed, and form traps for the unwary horseman. These granaries (Metâmîr) are often under the protection of the Mukâm, and are therefore excavated near that building. They are circular wells, some four or five feet deep, and the mouths are closed with clay like that used for the house-roofs.

The olive crop seems to require but little attention from the peasants; the land is ploughed twice or thrice each year, but the trees are neither manured nor pruned, and hence they only bear the full crop every other year. In October the fruit is ripe, and the trees are beaten with long poles, or shaken—much to their injury, and the fallen fruit is gleaned. It is said that the plague of locusts has more than once proved a subsequent blessing, because the olive-trees were eaten down and thus pruned, and yielded a plentiful harvest in the following year. The oil is pressed in two kinds of mills; one called M’aserah, from its “squeezing;” the other Matrûf, with a cylinder of stone placed vertically in a cylindrical stone case, and revolving in it, iron bars being fitted like spokes into the cylinder.

The olive grows slowly, and there is no doubt that many of the trees round Shechem and Gaza are of great age. At Gaza the natives say that not a single olive-tree has been planted since the Moslem conquest of the land; and indeed, traditionally, they refer the oldest of the trees in the great avenue to the time of Alexander the Great. The name Rûmi, or “Greek,” sometimes applied to the olives, appears to be connected with this tradition. It seems possible that the first statement, that olives have not been planted at Gaza since the Moslem conquest, may be true, for the tree rarely dies, but when the trunk decays, fresh stems spring from the roots, and a group of olives takes the place of a single tree. The old olives are surrounded by an army of suckers (the “olive branches” of Scripture—Ps. cxxviii. 3), and these, as the parent stem decays, grow strong and tall in its room, so that the grove perpetuates itself without any trouble on the part of the owners.

The olive-tree is the glory of Palestine, and one of the chief sources of wealth to the peasantry; the cool and grateful shade endears it to the traveller, and many a time have our tents been protected in stormy weather by the broad boles. The shade of the fig-tree is considered unhealthy by the Syrians, as producing ophthalmia, but that of the olive is a favourite shelter.

The pastoral employments of the Fellahin occupy a good part of their attention; the young men, as in Jacob’s time, are the shepherds and cowherds, and are often found far from home. In spring the rich pastures of the plains and of the Jordan Valley attract the flocks, which are driven down to temporary settlements known as ’Azbât. An arrangement is sometimes made with a Bedawîn tribe to protect the flocks, and in other parts there are lands in the desert recognised as belonging to the villagers. The sheepcotes along the edge of the Judean desert are generally caves (1 Sam. xxiv. 3), and in these the boys sleep with their charges at night, especially during the lambing season, which occurs early in spring.

The diminutive size of the oxen is striking, and the dry climate seems to dwarf most of the domestic animals, sheep, goats, and horses being all small. There are several breeds of goats; one (the mohair goat) long-haired and white, with enormous horns, is seen rarely; the other is the ordinary black or piebald breed, with shorter hair. The sheep are less numerous, and are generally driven with the goats. In the plains, however, they are better able to find food; and in Philistia especially, the fat-tailed Syrian breed affords excellent mutton. The way of fattening sheep for a feast is curious. A child will sit with its arm round the animal’s neck and feed it with mulberry leaves from a bag, almost pushing them down its throat. The name given to the fatted sheep is Kharûf.

Scarcely less important to the villagers than the flocks are the camels, which supply the place of carts and waggons. These animals give but little trouble, as they pick up any thorny shrub for food. In spring they are clipped, and covered with tar and oil, as a protection against insects. Their black appearance, after the tarring, is ludicrous, and their odour is then even more offensive than usual.

Such, slightly sketched, are the occupations and daily pursuits of the Fellahîn. It is almost unnecessary to point out how every act of their lives, not less than every word of their mouths, contains some echo of the old Bible times. Their peculiar habits are handed down from so remote a period that they themselves—being accustomed, with the ordinary conservatism of Orientals, to tread, without a thought of change, in their fathers’ steps, have forgotten the origin of many of their customs. They can only say: “It is from ancient times;” “It always was done so;” “Our fathers did thus.” And as in their worship so in everything else, they repeat mechanically the actions of their predecessors.

Their ordinary expressions are so like those used in the Bible, that one seems to step back out of the present century to the days of Abraham, when living in the more remote villages, far away from hotels and dragomans. “As the Lord liveth” is still a common oath, and the villagers address the stranger as “my father,” or “my brother,” and salute him with the words, “Peace be unto thee.”

It is easy to look alone on either the dark or the bright side of the peasant character; the lights and shades are strongly marked, and a partial experience would probably lead to a one-sided estimate, according to the temperament of the observer; but the truth seems to be, that a people with naturally fine qualities have been degraded, and entirely ruined, by an unjust and incapable government.

The whole of Southern Syria is under the Wâly of Damascus, and Palestine is under the Mutaserifs of Acre and Jerusalem, who are appointed by that Wâly. These provinces are again subdivided, and Kaimakâms or lieutenant-governors, are placed in such towns as Jaffa, Ramleh, Jenin, etc. The change of the Wâly generally results in the entire change of all these various authorities, and the Wâly used to be replaced perhaps once in six months, perhaps oftener. Thus even if a capable and just man were appointed, he had no time to carry out any plans he might form, and his successor probably reversed everything that he had done. The stipends paid were also so inadequate, that it was impossible for any of the governors, or sub-governors, to live on them alone. The consequence almost invariably was that the governor “eat,” as the peasantry call it; sometimes he eat little, sometimes much; but there is only one man—Midhat Pacha—against whom one never heard this accusation made. The rulers had no interest in the prosperity of the country, or in improving the condition of those they ruled; their only idea was to enrich themselves, and to lay up for that rainy day which must come when the Wâly was changed, unless they could induce his successor to keep them in their posts.

Not the least corrupt of these dignitaries was the Kâdy, but with this difference—the Pacha or Kaimakâm affected no special piety or principle, regarding the state of affairs with jovial cynicism; but the Kâdy was a religious character, a judge whose statute book was the Koran, who had been a Sokhtah (or, as we say, Softa), an “inquirer,” taught in the school of the ’Ulema at Constantinople. He wore a white turban, and said his prayers regularly; he had paid a high price for his appointment, and expected some return for his capital. Thus the land was cursed not only with tyrannous governors, but with corrupt and unjust judges.

The system of government is simple. The only duties are to collect the taxes, and to put down riots, which constantly occur. The crown-lands are farmed to the highest bidder, who, I believe, occasionally under-farms the taxes. Soldiers are sent to collect the money, and the crop is assessed before reaping. This is one of the most crying evils in the land. In order to save the overripe grain, the peasant is often obliged to give away half of it, as a bribe to those whose duty it is to assess the tax, and who deliberately delay so doing until the last moment.

The Miri tax has been definitely fixed, without regard to the difference of the harvests in good and bad years; this again is a crying evil, and leads to the ruin of many a village. At Kurâwa, in 1873, the people told me, with tears in their eyes, that the olive crop had been so poor that the value was not as much as the amount of the tax about to be collected.

The taxes are also very unevenly assessed. In one case 4000 acres paid £140; in another, 6000 acres paid £65; in a third, 3000 acres paid £320.

The taxes are brought into the towns by the Bashi-Bazouks; sometimes the Kaimakâm will himself make a tour to collect them, and he, with all his followers, is received as an honoured guest, and fed and housed at the village expense. The soldiers also live at free quarters, and exact money under a variety of pretexts from the luckless villagers, who have no man to speak for them.

There is a third evil, almost as fatal to the prosperity of the land—the conscription, which often carries off the flower of the bread-winning population. The number taken from a village varies, and as a punishment, the whole adult male population is sometimes marched off in irons to the head-quarters. Few of the poor fellows, who are thus torn away from the weeping women, ever see again the dark olives and the shining dome of their own hamlet, or come back to plough their yellow fields, and tend the red oxen or the black goats in their far-off native land. Hurried away to Europe, or to Armenia, they lead a miserable life, receiving but little pay, and bullied by ignorant officers. There is no sadder sight than that of the recruits leaving a village in Palestine.

In spite of the appointment of Midhat Pacha as Wâly in 1879, the abuses of local government were little affected, and the designs of this honest and patriotic statesman were thwarted by the venality and obstinacy of his subordinates.

Under such a government it can scarcely be a matter of surprise that the Fellahîn should be lazy, thriftless, and sullen. They have no inducement to industry, and, indeed, as one of the better class said to me, “What is the use of my trying to get money, when the soldiers and the Kaimakâm would eat it all.” There is only one way of becoming rich in this unhappy land, namely, by extortion. If in the time of Christ the country suffered as much as it does now, from unjust judges and tyrannical rulers, what wonder that to be rich was thought synonymous with being wicked, or that it should be Lazarus only who was considered fit for Abraham’s bosom?

The improvidence of the Fellahîn is very great, and is due principally to a feeling of uncertainty as to their immediate future. Living is cheap enough, and I have heard of a family of five who spent only twenty-five pounds in a year. But the peasantry are eaten up by usury; their very clothes are bought with money borrowed at forty or fifty per cent; and a company which would lend money at twenty per cent would be a boon to the villagers, if it could induce the government to assist it in collecting the interest.