address. Soon after my arrival I bethought myself of this invitation, and called at the court-house at Westminster. On enquiring of an attendant if Sir Launcelot was within, the man replied in the affirmative, but at the same time gave me to understand that Sir Launcelot was sitting, and that therefore I could not hope to see him.
This reply naturally very much amazed me, and I therefore persisted in my request.
“I tell you, Sir, that Sir Launcelot is sitting,” was again the answer of the servant.
This rather annoyed me. “Well, Sir,” rejoined I, “I know that Sir Launcelot is sitting; I never supposed for an instant that he was lying down or asleep at this hour of the day, and that is just the very reason why I have called to see him.”
I need not say that my reply as much astonished the official as I was confounded at his obstinacy. After some little altercation, however, I was made to understand that the term sitting, as used in this instance, referred to Sir Launcelot’s official occupations, and not a little abashed, I apologised for the error, at the same time explaining to the man the motives of my visit. I begged him to take in my card, and in the mean time walked into the court, not however, without a fresh difficulty occurring, for the official requested me to take off my cap, for I then wore what I have been accustomed to all my life, the fez or tarboush. On this request being repeated, I told the man that I would much sooner take off my boots, as it was disrespectful in my country to go bareheaded into the presence of one’s superiors. I suppose the man had never seen such a curious customer as I seemed to him to be; he however implored me not to remove my boots, and without further demur, allowed me to remain.
I afterwards saw Sir Launcelot in the private office of the Chancellor. He received me with stiff hauteur and distant politeness, and on making known my errand, regretted that he could not give me his son’s address, but said that if I left my own, he would forward it to his son. This I did, and rather hurt at the frigidity of his manner, speedily withdrew.
A few days after this, I received a very kind letter from Sir Launcelot, enclosing me one from his son, and in which Sir Launcelot, after apologising for the apparent want of courtesy displayed in his reception, which he justly attributed to the impostures often practised by persons of foreign appearance on the credulity of English gentlemen, concluded by hospitably inviting me to dinner, when I should have the happiness of once again meeting my friend, his son.
About the same time that I had come to England, there also arrived a young Druse Sheikh from the mountains of Lebanon, who, attended by his two servants, had left his home to be educated; and government had placed him under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. ---. Some time afterwards, one of the servants from some misunderstanding, attempted to stab that gentleman, but was fortunately prevented. A great disturbance, however, occurred, and the police were obliged to interfere and disarm them. In 1843 the Prince went raving mad, and was sent back to his friends. One day, paying a visit to Aali Effendi, at that time Turkish ambassador here, he suddenly flung a beautiful and expensive watch which he wore into the fire, exclaiming that he would no longer carry the devil in his pocket. I afterwards met him on one occasion on the Lebanon, and he told me that he was very ill, as the English had put a charm into his stomach;
and he begged of me to give him an English lancet to perform an operation and cut the charm. Luckily there are instances directly opposite to this case, or else one might be discouraged in carrying out the good cause of Syrian education. The fate of Assaad Shidiac (whose brother is considered one of the first Arabic and English scholars, and has been for many years employed by the Church Missionary Society in translating the Bible from English into Arabic), who fell a martyr to the cause, shews triumphantly that few people can be more sincere converts than the Syrian Christians.
This admirable young man was originally a Maronite, but having been educated by the missionaries, was led to see the errors of the Romish faith. While travelling amongst his own native villagers he was seized, and the people tried to force him to renounce the faith he had adopted. On his refusal, they imprisoned and otherwise ill-treated him. A merchant residing at Beyrout very soon flew to his rescue; but alas! he arrived too late, the noble soul of Shidiac had fled for ever, and the immediate cause of his death remains to this day enveloped in mystery.