The Press. — London, England, 1858-11-27 00:00:00

THE PRE S S, NOVEMBER 27, 1858. 1172 good billiard-tables," its shops " with fixed prices front which no abatemement is made," its houses " furnished in European style," its charming walks and delicious climate, its unusual clean liness, and its inhabitants, pleasant, pretty, or picturesque,—seems to offer the " splendour " without the " havoc, of the East," and presents a picture which, on a grey November day, when the east wind is blowing out the sun and sending the smoke down the chimney, becomes by the force of contrast indisputably attractive. Besides the fruits already mentioned, the neighbourhood of Beyrout produces wheat, barley, maize, rice, cotton, the sugar cane, and tobacco, though it does not appear that the cultivation of all of them is carried to the same extent. Slate, iron, and copper, are also found ; but whether they are extensively worked or not Mr. Farley does not tell us. The climate is excellent for pulmonary complaints, and is advantageously contrasted in this respect even with Nice, Hyeres, and Madeira—though the author's mention of " quinine and Dover's powder," as the chief local medicines, seems to point to the existence of almost equally unpleasant maladies. Beyrout has long been celebrated for its sea-bathing attractions, and the formidable drawback to them, consisting in the occasional appearance of a shark, may now, we learn, be avoided by resorting to a certain slathered cove—a discovery of the author's— where the rocks are just high enough to let the water in and keep the monster out. The expenses of living are moderate : board and lodging at the hotel,—which is the best in Syria, and not bad, — costs 10 francs a day ; house rent averages from 251. to 501. a year; a horse (an Arab) may be hired for 21. 10s. a month, or purchased for 10/. or 121. A groom's wages are from 141. to 24/. a year. But servants for personal attendance, cooking, and housekeeping, had better be brought from England. The society of Beyrout seems half European ized in some of its habits. Thus, the Syrian ladies " call," "receive," and go to balls. The young girls are generally very handsome, but marriage at fourteen makes old women of them at thirty. With European habits they do not, fortunately, adopt the European dress, and crino line and oystershell bonnets are still unknown in the " land of the Sun," who certainly could not " snile on the deeds that his children have done," if tut.y were. The "yashmak " is, at Beyrout, only worn out of doors ; it is laid aside with the shoes on entering a house. Slippers of yellow leather, pointed at the toes, wide trousers, a silk pelisse coming as low as the knees, and displaying the bosom through a thin white gauze ; a loose jacket of silk or velvet, open in front, and richly em broidered with gold; huge earrings, and tresses so laden with gold coins and brilliants that the wearer can scarcely turn her head,—complete the costume of a Syrian lady of fashion. The " half hour before dinner," terrible to the Western imagination, is in Syria often passed on the flat top of the house, where the guests lean over the stone parapets, enjoy the splendid views, eat sweatmeats and drink raki, and smoke long chibouks or hubble-bubbles. Then they descend to the open court below, where dinner is " served " in foe French style,—pillau and gourds stuffed " with rice and meat, being the only native "dishes." No etiquette, and little formality ; ladies talk and laugh "with less constraint than in Europe ; " then retire to the drawing-room, whence they retire for and all on the entrance of pipes and coke:, Such is a dinner party at Beyrout. But we had better allow Mr. Farley to speak a little for himself. Here is the picture of a Maronite princess : Her dress was very picturesque, being composed of an outer pelisse of blue silk, fringed with gold cord, a shawl bound round her waist, and long loose trousers of yellow silk, and yellow slippers. Her face and bosom were covered with a veil, which hung from the tantoor. Yet for a moment ahe contrived to take a sly peep at us, and, as she opened her veil, disclosed a very pretty face, with large almond•sbaped eyes, at the same time exhibiting a silk vest under the pelisse, thickly embroidered with gold lace. But the most curious part of her costume was the tantoor. The tantoor is a conical tube of silver, from a foot to two feet in length, about three inches in width at one end, and one at the other. Its shape is something like that of the long champagne glosses some time ago in fashion, with the stem cut off. The narrow end projects over the forehead at an angle of about 43 degs., the broad end being fixed to a pad on the top of the bead by two silken cords, which are wound round the head, and then permitted to bang behind, terminating in large tassels tipped with knobs of silver. It is the distinguishing ornament which, among the Maronitea, is worn by the married women. It is never laid aside, night or day, and has a very ludicrous effect. It serves, however ;to support the veli, which falls from it gracefully, without incom moding the face. The weight of the tube and the tassels of silver is considerable, and causes, it is said, severe head• aches to the women. The " tantoor " plays an important part in married life among the Druses. When the dowry of a fiancee has been agreed upon, and the " khanjar " or dagger presented by the wife to her future husband, to be used by him in case he shuld then or at any future time be deceived by her,— The bride, attended by the women, spends the day gaily in the bath, while the bridegroom and his friends amuse themselves with feats of horsemanship, or in drinking coffee and smoking chibouks at the house of the bride's father. This continues for two days ; on the third the bride is conducted, with considerable ceremony, to the house of the bridegroo.n, closely covered with a red gold-spangled veil, which in the nuptial chamber he removes, and presents her with the tantoor. This he places upon her head, where it remains both night and day, while life remains. The Druse possesses absolute power to divorce his wife, first paying the stipulated dowry. Nevertheless divorces are exceedingly rare, and they seldom take place at all except for very serious causes. If a woman is guilty of conjugal infidelity (which is extremely uncommon), she always pays the penalty with her life. The husband sends his wife back to her father's house, and with her the khanjar which he had received on his marriage, but without the sheath. This notifies her disgrace to her family. The dishonour does not attach to the husband, but to the relations of the wife, and can only be washed out with her blood. The father and brother sit in solemn judgment over the wife at her husband's house, and if the evidence is sufficient her doom is pronounced. A father's love is of no avail, a mother's shrieks cannot stay the hand that strikes, nor a sister's tears mitigate the punish• went. The executioner, generally the eldest brother, severs her bead from her body, and the tantoor with a lock of her hair steeped in blood, sent to the husband, testifies that the deed has been accomplished. Mr. Farley shines in the description of marriage ceremonies. Besides the .une just quoted, we have an account of a Syrian wedding ; of a " bridal bath" (not from personal observation) ; and of a Bedouin wedding, each of which con tains much that is amusing and characteristic. At the latter, the ceremonies began with a native dance—a sort of Oriental fandango; but the grand spectacle was a mock fight between the bride groom and his father, each at the head of a party of horsemen, the account of which reminds us of the boys' tournament in the 4Eneid alternis orbious nrbes Impediunt, pugmeque cient simulacra sub armis. Spears and firearms conic into play, and djerreeds are thrown, evaded, caught and hurled back as the riders fly along on their highbred steeds. But the most singular portion of the spectacle was to Come : -- The mock combat ended, a new scene commenced of scarcely less interest, for the bridegroom then returned in triumph as if after a victory. A cunous custom prevails with these tribes. The bridegroom, on his return, bears attached, either to his horse or to some part of his attire, a handkerchief, or some other token or trophy, which he is bound to bring back untouched to his bride. Unless he does this, he is prohibited from seeing her, and the marriage cannot be concluded. Many instances have occurred where a rival has attacked the bridegroom successfully, and carried off the handkerchief; and as the possessor has a right to claim the bride, the fight for the handkerchief is one of interest. In this instance the bridegroom bore in his hand a bouquet of flowers instead of the handkerchief, and he marched surrounded by a troop of his officers with drawn sword,. Two supporters walked at each side of the horse's head, their arms leaning against the animal's shoulders, and the swords crossing before the bouquet; two more walked behind, the swords crossing in the same manner. As the coitege advanced up the hill, it was stopped by a band of men, who crossed the path, disputing the way, and attempting to seize the bouquet ; they were, however, unarmed, and an equal number from the ranks of the !bridegroom opposed them. Then commenced a most peculiar dance, or rather movement of their hands and feet. Each troop formed a compact mass, leaning close against each others' shoulders, and they appeared as if, in case one fell, they would all fall together. In this way, their feet firmly fixed on the ground, they moved their heads and shoulders forwards and backwards, beating their hands against each other, so as to keep time, and uttering wild, unearthly shouts. This con tinued at intervals until the band approached the village, when the women came out to meet them, joining their shrill cries to the shouts of the men. We had marked several other passages for extract, but our readers have by this time suffi cient opportunity of judging of Mr. Farley's powers of amusement or instruction. Those wh o wish for a new book of travel, and are not sur feited with Eastern life, will find in Two Years in Syria" much that is fresh and interesting. Fellow Travellers. By the Author of " Margaret, or, Prejudice at Home." London : Hurst and Blackett. True is so good a stay that we wonder it is not better. The leading idea is original, the plot show , real power of imagination, and th e c h aracters are not below the average of average novels. Yet, on the whole, " Fellow Travellers " is rather a heavy hook to get through. It is founded on the plan of two sets of personages being brought into momentary contact at the beginning of the story, a n d t h en at once flying off in the opposite direction, till at length ' somewhere towards the middle of the b oo k, we b egin to see indications of a change, and gradually the two sets come circling back to one another, much like two snipes, which, on being flushed close together, often dart away at first towards exactly opi.osite quarters of the compass, bat, after performing many curious gyrations in the air, ultimately begin to waver, hang on the wing, and finally wheel round again to each other, and continue their flight in company. There are some striking effects in the tale; and, probably, what spoils it is that too much has been sacrificed to these. Like stage painting, the representations are done with a bold, free hand, hut at the same time are coarse, and net calculated t) bear a minute inspection. Miss Osborne, daughter of an old reprobate country gentleman, who had brought her up among the most abominable scenes. and then, supposing het to have been seduced, shots her np from the world, and on his death coniigui her, with a large annuity, to his agent, a Mr. John Rycroft, is unquestionably a remarkable conceptio:. The fearful situation of Miss Osborne through long years of misery in her keeper's house—fot she is supposed to be, and at times indeed ts, insane—is very vividly brought home to us and the final discovery of her marriage and her child is wcrked up in a style that weuld as credit to more famous writers. Perhaps, however, the really best character in the book is the Countess Clementine, a sort of cross between Becky Sharpe and the Widow Barnaby, and we regret that we do . not see more of her. The hefoine is a good grit• sacrificing little body, of the type much in vogue just now, and the several heroes have the requisite degree of unamiability to suit the modern taste. We think the author of this work might, perhaps, write a very good novel, but her talent seems more suited to the stage, and in melodrama she would probably achieve a great success. Checkmate. A Tale. London : Bentley. " CHECKMATE " is a story which, being in one volume, and alternating between some readable sketches of rural life and some tolerably exciting incidents of London ditto, we have read through without a check. This one merit, then, the book possesses—the inte rest never flags. But we are sorry we can say little more in its praise. It is undeniably vulgar , notwali• standing the author's power of describing what not so ; and the character of Ernest, an underbred town profligate, is one to inspire us alternately with contempt and aversion. The heroine en ds her life in a convent from a pure conviction of its abstract desirableness, and, if any other evidence of the author's own belief were required. it would be food in that unpleasant mode of speaking about VW and vicious things which is almost peculiar to Romanist° in this country. The Two Brides; or, the French Chateau and Oa English Home. By F. Bildwen. London •J. Blackwood. THIS is a tale of a widely different s'amp from tlit last, and is a tolerably fair imitation of Mr. G. P. R. James's medium style. The age is the age of Queen Elizabeth. The scene lies alternately at t ol, hi English Court, the camp of Henry IV., and n French chateau, to which a wounded English iotBcee i is brought after the battle of Ivry. He falls n loy with a daughter of the house; a nd his escape witl her from the soldiers of the League down into a su b. te rranean passage reminds one of a ver y in similar scent Mr. James's " Henry Masterton." Unluckily, th' Lady Clarisse is engaged to the Duke de 'Verdun who bad saved her new lover's life in the battle, am things are rather at a dead lock, till the duke, goo over oti an embassy to England, falls in love will his rival's sister, which opens a way of escape for all parties. There is a good deal of pure and pleassui writing in " The Two Brides." London: Printed and Published by ALFRED i‘E, at the Ott 110, Strand, iu the Precinct of the Savoy, in the C‘fit Middlesex, on Saturday, the 2 7 th day of November, 10,.. /A " •, Lo rs t; rl of F 3 of he ok wo .6 , No. 292. in wo ke er, t it e or er, to ty. LONDON, SATUR e; Las be POPUL • t.) A CON r EMPORARY, ad remarkable for the change, in a demos itb of the House of Corn ni hn self-complacent song )). 'Why should n• Rh represented in the rot should a man who less of rent than his vote ? Why s s to er one part of the er, • power as thirty should Parliaments Pe should votes be , do tluence ? We • li portant then ae with att , • • - ice thing less likely ' te. Reform should • P' The experience of- rce dd they will not •• argument of the • able." Our contem • , describes these net of the Reformers," may have elapsed ; )i being the staple ck. stonily reputed ; to lication supposed to lt:e BRIG wr, we trust tie e he od gi pht hwptc: xhi Ine diffusely th v i nahni shouldl, e. t e dinodie g nit ,yoeyroti somewhere. esrhr each .thanitasibrsiShould . 0 inhni glass a s ohdk n bgei d nroineo t is e h red itb Life act intend to bestow th to put a limit sometatl sts on other, the he J. are oa f t_e_i t r w o y notbecamaton "Why shoulsicliherirneno. shrink P. of be Old is to be fixed is a ire ith put' but, as it is n give an answer to t ib- " Why should the twenty shillings l• be deprived of his od This is a very o h a very b ung li ng r it The logical answ er all ten 'shillings less r sot " deprived" of his be " deprived " of the man referred he has not been mode of putting t