Possessing a population of 5000 souls, a fifth of whom are Christians, 200 Jews, and the rest Moslems, the basis of social and political distinction is religion rather than nationality. The Mohammedans have several mosques, the Jews a synagogue, the Latins, Greeks, and Armenians have each a convent, for the entertainment of pilgrims _en route_ for the Holy City.
Under the direction of Dr. Barclay, who combines the two professions of physician and missionary, a society has here been formed called the “Abrahamic Coalition,” the object of which is the gathering together in one large community all the indigent Jews in the East, and locate them on the Plain of Sharon, securing to each a small piece of land, and otherwise aiding the colonists in practical agriculture.
As illustrating the changeless character of Eastern customs, before the door of our inn stood a magician performing astonishing feats with serpents. A Nubian by birth, his face was black and glossy, his eyes small and snakish, and his countenance expressive of great cunning. With a smile, he drew from the ample folds of his bosom three large black serpents, which had been nestling next his naked breast; and caressing them in the fondest manner, he lifted them up to his neck, and allowed them to entwine themselves about his head. Subject to the will of their charmer, they obeyed his magical words, and the magician of Joppa vividly recalled the magicians of Egypt.[416]
Once more our faces were turned toward the Holy City. On leaving Joppa, our path for half an hour lay between enormous hedges of the cactus plant, inclosing orange and lemon groves, which cover an area of many miles in extent. The air was surcharged with the fragrance of those delicious fruits, and beneath the ladened trees lay heaps of lemons and oranges, like apples in an American orchard. Charmed with a ride so delightful, we were soon upon the Plain of Sharon, stretching far to the northeastward, to the white and purple Hills of Benjamin. Passing the hamlet of Yasûr on our left, in thirty minutes we entered the pine-groves of Beit Dejân. The declining sun forewarning us of approaching night, we gave loose rein to our horses, and bounded over that glorious plain. As far as the eye could reach, crimson anemones, tufts of lily leaves, and white and yellow daisies covered the ground like a carpet of many colors, while here and there stood the shepherd’s black tent, with herds and flocks around it, and on the evening air came the soft notes of his flute. In the starlight away to the east, like a dark column standing out against the sky of night, appeared the solitary tower of Ramleh. At seven P.M. we were knocking at the iron gate of the Latin Monastery, and, with a courtesy for which others have not given them credit, the Franciscan brothers received us to their retreat, while their tall and graceful superior entertained us with an ease and dignity worthy a Christian gentleman. After an excellent dinner in the refectory, a quiet-looking friar led us, by the light of a single wax taper, across a dark court-yard to a small chamber containing four beds, neat and clean, as if the work of a woman’s hand.