fruit of thy seed which thou hast sown, and the fruit of thy vineyard, be defiled."*

Although the Khalus, which runs by Aleppo, and is lost in the desert at the distance of some thirty-five or forty miles, is not to be compared to the waters of Damascus, I am inclined to think Aleppo is the finest city in the Semitic peninsula. We first saw it after a ride of a day and a night, looking bright and dazzling in the early morning sun, surrounded by its diadem of fresh green foliage; our last look was when, on our homeward journey, we turned our horses on an eminence to take a farewell glance as the sun was sinking, and we were obliged to confess we had seldom seen a fairer scene, and in respect to situation and aspect it would be difficult to find a grander city than old Halab.

*Deut. xxii. 9.

CHAPTER IV.

GLIMPSES OF ALEPPINE LIFE.

A DAY or two after our arrival at Aleppo we were shown over part of the city, and visited the Syriac and Greek churches in Jedaidé-fine lofty buildings, rather plentifully adorned with paintings. We were also taken to call at the house of a Christian Syrian gentleman, whose family consisted of five sons and two daughters. One of the former, a young gentleman about five years of age, smoked his cigarette. The two young ladies are tall, bright, cheerful, handsome girls, dressed, as the expression is, à l'Afranji, i.e. like Europeans—a great mistake, by the way. We were told one is like an English and the other like a French girl. Their father was evidently very proud of them, and with good reason. After a few minutes these both left the room. One soon reappeared, bringing in a glass dish with very small silver forks on a salver. The dish contained some dark-looking balls about the size of walnuts; politeness demands that we should each take one, although it is not always wise to partake of a dish of the ingredients of which you are ignorant. These balls were very dry,

E

and seemed to be a compound of spices: they were a great trouble to us. To our great relief the second young lady appeared with coffee; we bolted the balls, and received the refreshing beverage with much satisfaction. They all seemed pleased with our visit, and we experienced civility and politeness wherever we went in Aleppo.

We were well horsed when at Aleppo, for, besides two good horses of our own, we had free use of more than we could at times ride; but we scoured the country for miles round. Our favourite ride was across the country towards the desert to the east, good galloping ground being there, and the air from the desert came so sweet and refreshing to us. On one occasion, only a few days after our arrival, towards evening, we missed our way. We had passed beyond some of the gardens which surround Aleppo, and crossed the river, thinking to be able, by following the line of gardens, to recross at some point and return by a different route. The sun had set, and it would soon be dark, and the garden seemed to be without an end. On one side of us was the interminable garden, with the river running between it and our road at the depth of some twenty or thirty feet; and on our left were barren, rocky hills. It goes against one to have to turn back, and in the present instance we should have had to repass a very nasty bit of road, of which I at least had had enough; for when passing along a narrow ledge of rock, with a precipice on our right hand, at the bottom of which ran the river,

and on our left an upright wall of rock, the colt I was riding turned suddenly to the right, which brought us with our faces looking over the precipice. I had ascertained that the colt always resisted turning to the left: had I insisted, under existing circumstances, in all probability we should have both gone over the edge and fallen down the precipice into the rocky bed of the river; but the colt turned to the right-about, with his legs drawn under him like a goat, which brought us with our backs to the precipice and our faces to the rock, Without a moment's hesitation or warning, he sprang up, catching the ledge of the rock above us with his forefeet. For an instant we were hanging against the face of the rock; the next, with a struggle, we were on the top. The strength and agility to have accomplished such a feat must be sufficiently apparent, and need no further comment. We were still in some difficulty: above us on the left were still higher rocks; before, a descent of large boulders, and the way we had come up. Selecting the middle course, by scrambling over the boulders, we regained the former road at some distance further on. Still the garden was not rounded; the last point, as we had thought more than once or twice, when gained revealed another, and we only knew we were going further from home. We gallop when we can, trot and scramble when rocks prevent galloping. We see at last an entrance into the gardens; we cross the river, enter them, and ride along a causeway of stone shut in with trees on both sides. We begin to doubt whether we are much better off. We catch a glimpse of

light before us, which increases in width: it is from the twilight sky; we are in the open again, and have cut off the last angle of the gardens. We turn sharply to the right and see the evening star in our front: it will soon be down, and it is almost dark; we might still lose our way, for we are strangers. We set our horses going a bit; these drop their heads to the hand, and stretch themselves out like true Arabs. At last we see a faint reddish light. Can it be a star setting in the mist? No, it is the light from the minaret, and then the old citadel is seen looming up from the gloom. We get back in the dark, but in time for dinner.

We had been invited, with the Consul and his family, to an Armenian wedding, which was fixed for the very evening of the day on which the incident just recounted had occurred. After dinner, about 8 o'clock, we started for the marriage, which was to be celebrated at the house of the bridegroom's father (the bride, I believe, was an orphan). We proceed thus: two Kavasses (attendants on the Consulate, men who generally have been soldiers), armed, in front-one of these was dressed in blue; the other, a richer man, sparkled in silver; both were girded with swords--then followed domestic servants, two of whom (men) carried lamps, not merely lanterns, but larger than street lamps; next went the lady with the little boy, who could not be left at home; our host, with ourselves, bringing up the rear. We proceed with rather solemn steps, the Kavasses out of step; pass through the burying-grounds, which appear like plantations of tombstones, up to the Jedaidé Gate, at which we