An angry

tain having been abruptly rent in twain. torrent would seem at some time to have torn down the gorge at right angles to the dry river, but instead of entering it, it ended in what appeared to be a frightful abyss. Here, thought we, must have been a whirlpool; the torrent, suddenly checked, would whirl round and round, and finally dash over the barrier of rock which separated the pool from the river-course. At times large rocks and slabs of stone are surrounded by sand, as on the seashore when the tide is out. Our way is still upwards, through a maze of mountains, chasms, and precipices, until we grow almost bewildered. As we near the summit of the mountain, the narrow gorge ceases; the deep channel of the now dry river-course opens out into a wide expanse, resembling a glacier, but of white rocks. We wind round to our left, leaving that which had appeared the summit of the mountain on our right, and proceed up the course of the glacier of stone. The summit is almost gained, the glacier widens, we appear to be in the midst of a sea of white stone; our way is tortuous and wonderful in the extreme, and we glide round the white rocks like eels. A sigh of relief from man and horse escape when the summit is gained.

A sandy track leads to a village called Termaneen, situated on the northern end of a plain, formerly called "Imhal," but now "Halkar" (a ring), from its circular shape, the plain being completely enclosed by a zone of rocky hills. It is said that here Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, had drawn up her forces to dispute the progress of the Emperor Aurelian; but the passes were gained or

forced, and on this plain was fought the battle which proved so disastrous to Zenobia.

We entered a village, partly in ruins, near to Termaneen, and stopped at the house of a Mussulman friend of our guide, who was also the Imaum. We dismounted in a large court, and our horses soon had their noses into their bags of barley. How they grind this hard and nutritious grain! how they seem to enjoy it! how they thrive! and what an amount of work do these little horses do! It is a pleasure to see them feed.

It was now past midnight, but our host arose, turned out his four wives and his children; their apartment was swept and re-carpeted, and we had tea while the horses were feeding.

On leaving the village our way was over a maze of crags, and up and down abrupt ridges and descents on to a wide plateau, over which rocks are scattered in all directions. On the left, going to Aleppo, is seen Jabal Simaan (the mountain of Simon), the highest point in the immediate neighbourhood; it stands up distinctly and alone.

On the summit was the pillar upon which the hermit lived, and from which he preached. It was erected on the site of a pagan altar, steps up to which were cut in the solid rock; a drain or duct had been constructed to carry off the blood of the victims sacrificed, and may still be seen. Subsequently a convent was erected in commemoration of the hermit, an octagon of columns was built round the hermit's pillar, and a church erected on the opposite side to the convent. The octagon still

stands, I believe. The pillar was thrown down by the earthquake in the reign of Justinian. John Stylites died A.D. 430.

A monk from the convent of Jabal Simaan proceeded every year to preach to the people of Aleppo, arriving there on the Monday before Ash-Wednesday.

For several hours we rode over a rocky plain, a high tableland, sometimes going down long swelling waves of land to ascend similar ones. It was quite cold, and we found great difficulty in keeping awake; indeed, we dropped asleep occasionally. The sun rose at six o'clock, and found us still struggling over these waves of land and rocks, and a keen wind from the east in our faces was something more than refreshing. We heard the musical tinkling of many bells, and presently met a caravan, then another and another. A deep purple hill was before us, apparently quite close; it took us a good hour to gain the summit: between that crest and ourselves were a succession of undulations merged into one by the purple shade. Nearly two hours more passed on before Aleppo was in view—we had missed seeing the light from the minaret in the citadel (the minaret is visible from some point about twelve miles distant)— when, on reaching the crest of the last rock-topped eminence, down whose eastern slope we wound, Aleppo burst upon our delighted eyes. A vast city of stone houses, with numerous larger buildings, and tall minarets sparkling in the sunlight, was spread out before us, set in a zone of beautiful green, formed by the fresh-looking gardens on the outskirts, the grand old citadel in the midst of the city standing up proudly on its lofty mount.

Crossing the river Khalus by a stone bridge and passing through Azizieh, we called at the English Consulate. Her Majesty's representative being absent for a few days on business, our guide conducted us into the town, to the house of a Syrian, Dragoman to the Consulate. This gentleman very kindly offered to put us up, and entertained us most courteously until the return. of the Consul. We dismounted in a narrow street, and proceeded through a long narrow passage, and under a very low doorway through a dark passage, and entered a small court with a tank and fountain in the centre.

We were refreshed with coffee and a cigarette, and after a substantial meal at noon our host conducted us to his stable to show us his horses.

In the afternoon we went to the Consulate, situate in the Azizieh on the banks of the Khalus. The house suffered considerably by the earthquake in 1872, and many of the rooms were in ruins. There is a rock some thirty feet high or more above the river at this point, which on fine evenings is crowded with women in white enjoying the breeze off the water. We returned to the city (which is lighted up during Ramadan) for dinner, and during the repast heard the Imaums singing as they walked through the streets, inviting all good Mohammedans to prayers.

On the return of the English Consul we were transferred to his house, receiving the greatest hospitality and never-failing kindness from our host and hostess And here, my friends at Aleppo, let me express our warmest thanks.

CHAPTER III.

HALAB, OR ALEPPO.

WHEN Sultan Selim passed through Aleppo on his way to the conquest of Egypt, he remarked how well the city was adapted, by situation, for commerce, and felt assured it ought to take the place of Tadmor.

Selim assembled the principal men of Aleppo, and thus addressed them: "Your city is well placed for commerce, but you are all soldiers and know nothing of mercantile affairs. The Jews are a people who thoroughly understand trade; see to it, let Jews be collected. On my return from Egypt, if I do not find a colony of Jews, and commerce fairly established, I will cut off your heads." Jews were accordingly invited to settle at Aleppo. Some came from Spain, more from Italy, and from that date Aleppo became a commercial city; and even now, as then, the greater part of the trade is in the hands of the Jews, who now number six thousand souls. Most of these have foreign protection, and if a Jew can give proof that his father or his paternal grandfather came from India, Gibraltar, Malta, or any