The singing (Arabic) was good, of course all in unison. The first hymn was to the tune of our "Old Hundredth," the chapters read by the minister were Ezek. xviii. and Rom. iii., and the text of the sermon was Ps. lxxxix. 14, "Justice and judgment are the habitation of thy throne: mercy and truth shall go before thy face." The style of language in the sermon was that of good Arabic, but of simple, unpretending character, without admixture of foreign words or phrases: this was insured by the circumstance of the minister being a native of the country, though originally belonging to the Armenian Church. At the afternoon service the chapters read were Num. xxiii. and Heb. xiii. The text for the sermon was Heb. xiii. 8, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever," and the hymn was sung to a sweet plaintive air of American origin. Afterwards, that is after sunset, we spent some hours with the pastor's family, who all understood English well. Mr Wartabed played the flute to the hymn-singing, and his sister's voice was clear as a flageolet. The evening was one of comfort and refreshment on both sides; it was one of a Sabbath, "a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable," (Isa. lviii. 13.) The poor Protestants have not always been in such satisfactory circumstances. Their principal man had narratives to relate of chains and imprisonment endured in past times from the present Ameer, whose policy was now in their favour. Next morning we left Hhasbeya, and I have not been there since. Little could it be foreseen that in five years afterwards one indiscriminate butchery would be made of the Ameer and his son, notwithstanding their high descent of family and profession of Islam, together with all the Christians of whatever sect in the town, driven like sheep within the walls of his palace--a deed of treachery unexampled even in that period of bloody Turkish treachery. Since then my lady companions are both in their graves, the one at Jerusalem, the other at Bayroot, let me rather say in "a better country," while I am left alone to narrate this in the distant security of England. On our way towards Banias we met a party of Druses returning from a small lake beyond Hhooleh, carrying leeches in earthen jars and cotton bags upon asses, they themselves walking. A green hill on our right was said to be frequented by wild boars--all the rest of our scenery was bare and stony. A weli was a conspicuous object at some distance to the south, and near to the Lake Hhooleh, which the Moslems name after "Judah the son of Jacob." One of the Hhasbeya Protestants, who was with us, quoted in his native Arabic "The sceptre shall not depart from Judah," etc.