FEBRUARY 2d. The rain fell violently at day-break; but as the sun rose its force abated; and from the alarming suspicions and suggestions of the people here regarding us, we determined on quitting Soof at all events.

We accordingly mounted; and Mr. Bankes being now without a horse, from the death of his own on the preceding evening, the Arabs dismounted by turns to accommodate him with the constant use of one of theirs. We continued our road from Soof in a N. W. direction, descending into a fine valley, and again rising on a

gentle ascent, the whole being profusely and beautifully wooded with evergreen oaks below, and pines upon the ridge of the hills above; as well as a variety of the lesser trees.

This forest, for it fully deserved the name, continued for about four or five miles, when we opened on a more park-like scenery, the ground showing here and there a rich green turf, and the woods becoming less crowded than before. The soil of the road on which we travelled was clayey, with a fine yellow gravel on the surface; and the track was broad and beaten..

As we descended to a lower level, the pines disappeared, and on the side of one of the hills, close to the road on our right, we observed a grotto, carefully hewn down in front, with an arched door of entrance, and a small court and cistern before it. On alighting to examine it, we found it to be an excavated tomb, now containing three stone sarcophagi, of the usual form and size. Were it not for the actual presence of these, we should have thought it to have been a cell of residence for some solitary living being, rather than a place of sepulture for the dead, as we knew of no ancient site in the immediate vicinity of the place, nor could we find any traces of other tombs near. Although this solitude had been chosen, and wild bushes had so overgrown its front as almost to conceal it from the view, this sepulchre had been violated as well as all the rest, and its cistern was choked, its court partly filled up, and its sarcophagi uncovered and empty.

We continued our route from hence, still in a N. W. direction, while the mountains of Nablous were pointed out to us in the distance on our left. We reached at length a beautiful dell, wooded round on all sides, where we found a small encampment of Bedouins striking their tents, and removing from the more open part of the vale to seek shelter beneath the trees, as the rain still continued.

Alighting here to take a pipe and coffee, we met with two pilgrims who had recently returned from Mecca, and the salutations

of peace passed between us as children of the same faith. Mohammed, the Albanian soldier who accompanied Mr. Bankes, had been himself at Mecca during Mohammed Ali Pasha's campaign in the Hedjaz, besides which, he possessed a sort of certificate of his having visited the great mosque of Solomon, which stands on the site of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem; and, at the same time that he talked loudly of Arasat, and the Caaba, he showed this, as a paper from the sheriff of Mecca. The ignorance of the pilgrims, who were returning to Sham, prevented them from detecting the imposition, and they were satisfied with seeing on it the double-bladed sword of the prophet, by which the infidels were to be cut off from the earth. I had myself learnt so much also of Mecca, and its pilgrimage, as to be prepared to answer almost any questions that could have been proposed to me by them, and therefore all went well with us. The Bedouins, however, as usual, never troubled themselves either about the prophet or his injunctions, and seemed almost as indifferent to the conversation as if it were in a foreign tongue.

In the mean time a large fire was kindled, warm cakes were baked for us, coffee burnt, pounded, and prepared, our pipes lighted, and, in short, every office performed for our comfort and refreshment, by these hospitable wanderers, without a thought of compensation.

After a stay of about half-an-hour, we departed from hence, continuing still through the most beautifully-wooded scenery on all sides. Mr. Bankes, who had seen the whole of England, the greater part of Italy, and France, and almost every province of Spain and Portugal, frequently remarked, that in all his travels, he had met with nothing equal to it, excepting only in some parts of the latter country, Entre Minho, and Duoro, to which he could alone compare it. It is certain, that we were perpetually exclaiming, at every turn, How rich! How picturesque! How magnificent! How beautiful! and that we both conceived the scenery alone to

be quite worth all the hazard and privation of a journey to the eastward of Jordan.

The woods growing gradually more open as we proceeded, we came at length in sight of distant hills, of a dull grey hue, stoney and bare. The land between these contrasted extremes, presented still a fine green turf, and marks of having been once cultivated, as the stones were laid out in ridges, to mark the boundaries of enclosures; and in other places were gathered up in heaps, as if to clear the soil.

On our left, we passed a village standing on the verge of a hill, and distant from our road about a mile, which the Arabs called Samoon; and soon afterwards, as we gained a sufficient height to look over the last ridge of barren hills described, the extensive plain of the Hauran was opened to us on our right, spreading as far as the eye could reach, and having the horizon for its boundary in all directions.

At the foot of the hills, where the western edge of the plain commenced, stood the village of Hussun, in which there seemed to be a tower or castle, and walls around it; and still further on, at the distance of about a mile, were scattered heaps of stone, that looked from hence like ruins, but of what age they might have been we could not learn..

The plain itself appeared to be highly cultivated; its ploughed lands showing themselves in brown patches only, as the long drought had kept back all appearance of the young corn. The road of the pilgrims, from Damascus to Mecca, was pointed out to us as running nearly north and south through this plain, and passing through Sal and Arimza, the former a village, and the latter a considerable town, both visible from hence, with beaten paths leading to each of them easterly across the plain.

Proceeding onward, we observed a number of wrought stones near the road, and several rude grottoes, which seemed to indicate the site of some former settlement; and soon after noon, when

the rain began to abate, and the sky grew clear, we reached the village of Aidoone, where we alighted to refresh.

This village, which consists of about thirty or forty dwellings, is singularly seated on the brow of a rude cliff or quarry, in such a way that many of its buildings are half constructed of masonry, and half gained by excavation out of the rock; the whole presenting an appearance of poverty and want of comfort, beyond any thing we had lately seen. We entered into the public room here, in which we found above twenty persons already seated around a fire on the floor. Place was made for us instantly; and, by order of the Sheikh, who was under the Pasha of Damascus, warm cakes, olive-oil, and honey were served to us, with pipes and coffee, and the comfort of a fire to warm and dry ourselves. These people were far less inquisitive, and more civil than those of Soof, and seemed even to have a milder cast of countenance.

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Leaving the village of Aidoone, we passed again by some good cisterns, excavated out of the rocks, and saw, near them, several fragments of ancient masonry; when, continuing S. W. barren tract, we passed in about an hour under the village of Erbeed. This, though now small, is seated on an eminence which commands the country for some distance round, and enjoys an admirable position for a city. We saw here an octagonal tower, of good workmanship, probably of the Saracen age; and near this a large reservoir for water, well-lined with masonry of hewn stones, and descended into by steps, resembling the famous cisterns which are called the pools of Solomon, near Jerusalem, though not quite so large.

About an hour and half before sunset, still continuing through a stoney and barren tract of land, with patches of cultivation here and there only, we reached the village of Bahrahah, where our halt was fixed for the night. This place stands at the bottom of a gentle declivity, and has some few portions of good red soil around it, but its neighbourhood is entirely destitute of wood. On entering it, we observed the ruined arches of an old mosque, of very