They go-they climb the hull,

As the waters wash the deck,

They shout, and they hear but the billows dull
Strike on that lonely wreck.

The skeletons of men

Lay blanch'd and marrowless there,
But clothed in their living garb as when
That 'reft ship was their care.

Lash'd to their planks they lay,

The ropes still round them tied,

Though drifted long leagues in that stormy bay,
Since they hoped, despair'd, and died.

Tombless in their decay,

Mid the watery solitude,

Days dawn'd upon them and faded away,
Cold moons their death-sleep view'd,

Their names no trace may tell,

Nor whither their passage bound,
And our seamen leave the desolate hull

With death and darkness round.

They tread their deck again,

And silent hoist their boat

They think of the fate of the unknown men
Who for years may wildly float.

Those bones, that ocean bier,

They well may sadly see,

For they feel that the gallant ship they steer,
Their sepulchre may be.

There is grief for beauty's woe,

Laurels strew the hero's hearse

Are there none will the generous tear bestow

For those untomb'd mariners!

LETTERS FROM THE EAST.-NO. XIX.

Damascus.

AFTER descending the mountain, we were some time travelling through avenues of trees and gardens before we entered the city. In the course of the day, we went to the Spanish Catholic convent, that contained a small number of fathers, who lived very comfortably; but we had not come to Damascus to live in convents, so in the course of two or three days we procured excellent apartments in the house of a merchant, a Syrian of the Greek religion. We stooped low to enter a mean door in the street, and found ourselves in a court neatly paved, containing orange and lemon trees, and a fine fountain in the middle. On the right of the fountain was an arched recess in the wall, on the floor of which a divan was laid, and here we took our coffee and pipe. A large and lofty apartment opened into the court, the lower part of which was floored with fine marble, with a small fountain playing in the midst; the upper part was covered with carpets and cushions. Our host had a family of sweet children, and his wife, a young and rather pretty woman, would sometimes insist on attending us at table in spite of every remonstrance.

The city of Damascus is seven miles in circumference; the width is quite disproportioned to the length, which is above two miles. The walls of this, the most ancient city in the world, are low, and do not inclose it more than two thirds round. The street, still called Straight, and where St. Paul is, with reason, said to have lived, is entered by the road from Jerusalem. It is as straight as an arrow, a mile in length, broad, and well paved. A lofty window in one of the towers to the east, is shown us as the place where the Apostle was let down in a basket. In the way to Jerusalem is the spot where his course was arrested by the light from Heaven. A Christian is not allowed to reside here, except in a Turkish dress: the Turks of Damascus, the most bigoted to their religion, are less strict than in other parts in some of their customs. The women are allowed a great deal of liberty, and are met with every evening in the beautiful promenades around the city, walking in parties, or seated by the river side. The women of the higher orders, however, keep more aloof, and form parties beneath the trees, and, attended by one or two of their guardians, listen to the sound of music. Most of them wore a loose white veil, but this was often turned aside, either for coolness, or to indulge a passenger with a glimpse of their features. They had oftentimes fair and ruddy complexions, with dark eyes and hair, but were not remarkable for their beauty. Women of a certain description are often seen in parties, each mounted on a good horse, well dressed and unveiled, driving on with much gaiety and noise, with a male attendant to protect them from insult. The fruits of the plain are of various kinds, and of excellent flavour. Provisions are cheap, the bread is the finest to be found in the East; it is sold every morning in small light cakes, perfectly white, and surpasses in quality even that of Paris. These cakes, with clouted cream, sold in the streets fresh every morning, the most delicious honey, and Arabian coffee, formed our daily breakfast.

This luxurious city is no place to perform penance in; the paths around, winding through the mass of woods and fruit-trees, invite you daily to the most delightful rides and walks. Summer-houses are found in profusion; some of the latter may be hired for a day's use, or are open for rest and refreshment, and you sit beneath the fruit-trees, or on the divan which opens into the garden. If you feel at any time satiated, you have only to advance out of the canopy of woods, and mount the naked and romantic heights of some of the mountains around, amidst the sultry beams of the sun, and you will soon return to the shades and waters beneath with fresh delight. Among the fruits produced in Damascus are, oranges, citrons, and apricots of various kinds. The most exquisite conserves of fruits are made here, amongst which are dried cakes of roses. The celebrated plain of roses, from the produce of which the rich perfume is obtained, is about three miles from the town; it is a part of the great plain, and its entire area is thickly planted with rose-trees, in the cultivation of which great care is taken. One of the best tarts we ever tasted was composed of nothing but rose-leaves.

There are several extensive cemeteries around the city. Here the women often repair in the morning to mourn over the dead: their various ways of manifesting their grief were striking, and some of them very affecting. One widow was accompanied by her little daughter;

they knelt before the tomb, when both wept long and bitterly. Others were clamorous in their laments; but the wailing of this mother was low and heart-breaking. Some threw themselves prostrate with shrill cries, and others bent over the sepulchres without uttering a word. In some of the cemeteries we often observed flowers and pieces of bread laid on the tombs, beside which the relations sat in silence.

The great bazaar for the reception of the caravans at Damascus, is a noble building; the roof is very lofty, and supported by pillars; in the midst is a large dome. An immense fountain adorns the stone floor beneath, around which are the warehouses for the various merchandize: the circular gallery above opens into a number of chambers for the lodging of the merchants. The large mosque is a fine and spacious building; but no traveller is permitted more than to gaze through the door as he passes by. Its beautiful and lofty dome and minaret, form conspicuous objects in every view of the town. Many of the private houses have a splendid interior; but there is nothing sightly in the part that fronts the street. The passage of two or three of the rivers through the town is a singular luxury, their banks being in general lined with trees, and crossed by light bridges, where seats and cushions are laid out for the passengers. The bazaars are the most agreeable and airy in the east, where the richest silks and brocades of the east, sabres, balsam of Mecca, and the produce of India and Persia, are to be found. But one luxury, which Wortley Montague declared only was wanting, to make the Mussulman life delightful, is scarcely to be found in Damascus-good wine. The monks of the convent have strong and excellent white wine; but a traveller must be indebted to their kindness, or go without. The numerous sherbet shops in the streets are a welcome resource in the sultry weather. The sellers are well dressed, clean, and remarkably civil. Two or three large vessels are constantly full of this beverage, beside which is kept a quantity of ice. The seller fills a vase with the sherbet that is coloured by some fruit, strikes a piece of ice or snow into it, and directly presents it to your lips.

Our abode was not far from the gate that conducted to the most frequented and charming walks around the city. Here four or five of the rivers meet, and form a large and foaming cataract, a short distance from the walls. In this spot it was pleasant to sit or walk beneath the trees; for the exciting sounds and sights of nature are doubly welcome near an eastern city, to relieve the langour and stillness that prevail. A few coffee-sellers took their stand here, and, placing small seats in the shade, served you with their beverage and the chibouque. We often went to a pleasant village at the foot of the mountain Salehiéh. One of the streams passed through it: almost every house had its garden; and above the mass of foliage, in the midst of them, rose the dome and minaret of the mosque, and just beyond the grey and naked cliffs. The finest view of the city is to the right of this place a light kiosque stands partly up the ascent of the mountain, into which admission is afforded, and from its cool and upper apartment, the prospect of the city, its woods, plain, and mountains is indescribably rich and delightful. The plain in front is uninclosed, and its level extent stretches to the east as far as the eye can reach. The place called the " Meeting of the Waters," is about five miles to the north-west of the city. Here the river Barrady, which may be the

ancient Abana, being enlarged by another river that falls into it about two miles off, is divided into several streams, which flow through the plain. The separation is the result of art, and takes place at the foot of one or two rocky hills, and the scene is altogether very picturesque. The streams, six or seven in number, are some of them carried to water the orchards and gardens of the higher grounds, others into the lower, but all meet at last close to the city, and form the fine cataract. The streets of Damascus, except that called Straight, are narrow; they are all paved, and the road leading out for some miles to the village of Salehiéh, is neatly paved with flat smooth stones, and possesses a good footpath. Small rivulets of water run on each side, and beside these are rows of trees, with benches occasionally for the accommodation of passengers; near which is sometimes found a moveable coffee-seller, so that ease and refreshment are instantly obtained. The houses of the city are built for a few feet of the lower part with stone, the rest is of brick. The inhabitants dress more richly than in any other Turkish city, and more warmly than to the south, for the climate is often cold in winter and the many streams of water, however rich the fertility they produce, are said to give too great a humidity to the air. It would be a good situation for an European physician; and Monsieur Chaboiceau, a Frenchman, who has resided here forty years, being now eighty years old, appears to live in comfort and affluence, has good practice, and is much esteemed. The great scheik mountain, crowned with snow, is a fine and refreshing object from the city; and large quantities of snow are often brought from it for the use of the sherbet shops, and the luxury of the more affluent inhabitants. Every private house of any respectability is supplied with fountains, and in some of the coffee-houses a jet d'eau rises to the height of five or six feet, around which are seats and cushions.

We passed our time very agreeably here. In the evening some of the friends of our host came to sit and converse, and we sometimes rode into the plain, at the extremity of the line of foliage. The number of Christians in the city is computed at ten thousand, natives of the place, of which those of the Greek religion are the most numerous, and there are many Catholics and Armenians. They appear to live in great comfort, in the full and undisturbed exercise of their religion and their different customs. The intolerance of the Turks is more in sound than in reality; in all our intercourse with them we found them polite, friendly, and hospitable, and never for a moment felt the least personal apprehension in their territory, whether in towns or villages, or when we met them in remote situations. They are a generous and honourable people, and vindictiveness and deceit are not in their nature. The state of the Jews at this time in Damascus was particularly fortunate; the minister of the Pacha was one of their nation, and they enjoyed the utmost freedom and protection. Every evening they were seen amusing themselves outside the walls with various pastimes, and the faithful were looking on with perfect complacency. One morning while walking about the city, we heard the report of several cannon, to announce the beheading of two commanders who had taken flight along with their troops, at the battle with the forces of Acre and Lebanon a few days before.

On our arrival in Damascus, we had intended to hire a separate resi

dence, and were recommended to an affluent Turk, who possessed one or two houses that were at present vacant. He was a barber, and exhibited another proof of the respectability of this class of people in the East, as is apparent in the Arabian Nights. The old man, extremely well dressed, with a good length of beard, was always found seated at his ease, smoking, or chatting with some of his friends. He wished us to take a luxurious apartment of his, situated on a terraced roof; it was profusely gilded, and the cushions of its divan were as white as snow, and it commanded a superb view of the city and mountains. But the barber's wife was by far the more zealous part of himself, and protested with loud clamour, that infidels should never sully the purity and beauty of her divan; and he explained to us with sorrow, that after a warm dispute, he was compelled to give way. He told us that

when Bonaparte and his army were in Syria, he and many others of Damascus, took arms and travelled a great distance to fight with the Giaours for the honour of the prophet." They were full of zeal, and our forces," said the old man," soon had an action ;—we were beat, and I received a severe wound; and when they carried me with them in the retreat, in an agony of pain I cried out, what had I to do with Giaours?-go to hell all the world!" "

6

The greatest luxuries the city contains are the coffee-houses; many of these are built on the bosom of the river, and supported by piles. The platform of the coffee-house is raised only a few inches above the level of the stream. The roof is supported by slender rows of pillars, and it is quite open on every side; innumerable small seats cover the floor, and you take one of these and place it in the position you like best; the river, the surrounding banks of which are covered with wood, rushes rapidly by close to your feet. Near the coffee-houses are one or two cataracts several feet high, with a few trees growing out of the river beside them; and the perpetual sound of their fall, and the coolness they spread around, are exquisite luxuries in the sultry heat of day. At night, when the lamps, suspended from the slender pillars, are lighted, and Turks of different ranks, in all the varieties of their rich costume, cover the platform, just above the surface of the river, (on which, and on its foaming waterfalls, the moonlight rests, and the sound of music is heard,) you fancy that if ever the Arabian Nights enchantments are to be realized, it is here.

These cool and delightful places were our daily and favourite lounge; they are resorted to at all hours of the day; there are two or three others constructed somewhat variously from the former. A low gallery divides the platform from the tide; fountains play on the floor, which is furnished with sofas and cushions; music and dancing are always found here. Together with a pipe and coffee, they bring you two or three delicious sherbets, and fruit of some kind is also put into the vase presented you. In the middle of the river that rushed round one of these latter cafés, was a little island covered with verdure and trees, where you might go and sit for hours without once desiring a change of place. The Arabian story-tellers often resort here; their tales are frequently accompanied by a guitar; the most eminent among them are Arabs. There are a few small coffee-houses more select, where the Turkish gentlemen often go, form dinner parties, and spend the day.

We paid a visit to the Catholic convent one day, during which one