Bonfils.)

Bright and early next morning we were at breakfast, and then scattered in groups to walk or drive about the city and its suburbs. It was still cold, and the natives needed the heat of the sun to "expand" them; but it was pleasant to drive along the banks of the Abana, which flows through the city, and feel that one was on the extreme verge of modern civilisation. Entering "the street which is called Straight," which traverses Damascus from west to east, we drove slowly along, noticing the busy, prosperous look of the city. There were not the crowds of beggars and pilgrims to be seen in some quarters of Jerusalem. Above us were latticed windows, like those through which, elsewhere, the mother of Sisera once looked; and we saw bronze-work in progress, and great hanks of unspun silk, representing two of the staple trades of Damascus.

VIEW OF DAMASCUS FROM THE FORTRESS.

(Photo: Bonfils.)

We visited two houses, the first that of Shemaiah, a wealthy banker, who was ruined by lending money to the Turkish Government. We noticed imitations of living birds among the beautiful carved work on the walls of the magnificent room into which we were conducted. The house is a typical Eastern mansion, but it is now unoccupied. Our second visit, through a narrow and not very clean alley in the Christian Quarter, was to the traditional "House of Ananias." Oblivious of the historic record that St. Paul lodged in the house of Judas, in the street called Straight, and was visited there by Ananias, local tradition shows the cave in which the meeting took place in Ananias' house! We have to be satisfied, as in the case of many traditional sacred sites, with the reflection, "It was somewhere near here"; but as we continued our drive through "Straight" Street we read St. Luke's account of that journey to Damascus, and the events which were the means of changing the pupil of Gamaliel into the Apostle of the Gentiles. We were reminded of him again as we passed out of the triple East Gate. Its central arch is now built up, as well as one of the side ones; but by this, quite possibly, Saul was actually led in his blindness into the city. Not far away is pointed out the window by which he was let down. The house is in reality a modern one, but there are many examples round us of the kind of place in the "houses on the wall," which seem quite a feature of the city.

THE MARKET, DAMASCUS.

(Photo: Bonfils.)

But Damascus has other associations, and we have to visit "the house of Naaman," not many yards away. The traditional site is now suitably occupied by a leper hospital; and about its gateway we can see unhappy creatures in various stages of this living death. As we drove away, we read the story of Naaman, and opportunely noticed, if not a mule, at least an ass, with a "burden of earth," illustrating the Syrian's request for material to build an altar to Jehovah.

Pursuing our way through the suburbs, we found the roads more and more thronged with a motley Eastern crowd. It was Friday, the Mahometan Sabbath, which is, to some extent, a festal day; and, further, 600 Druse prisoners were rumoured to be coming in, and house-tops as well as streets were occupied by would-be spectators.

A considerable force of troops, armed cap-à-pie for active service, passed us, probably on the way to the Haurân; and what with them, and the camels, and the crowds, our drivers thought it well to turn back, instead of going any further—as, I think, was proposed to do—in the direction of the traditional site of St. Paul's conversion. So, returning through the city by a different route, we drove, past the Abana once more, to the heights of Salahiyeh away to the north-west. From thence there is a fine view of the "Pearl of the East," which lies, as is sometimes said, "like a spoon in the salad," the handle being the long straggling suburb which has grown up along the line of march by which Mecca pilgrims leave the city year by year. The resemblance was less striking to us than it would have been a month or two later, when the leafy springtime had clothed in green the broad expanse of trees, spreading around the minarets and domes and flat-roofed houses of the city. Snow-capped Hermon stood out quite clear to the west; and towards the east were pointed out the Meadow lakes, in which the "rivers of Damascus" lose themselves; and we knew—if we could not clearly see—that, beyond the limits of the oasis of which the city is the centre, the wide desert stretched away several weary days' ride to Palmyra. The site of St. Paul's conversion was pointed out in the distance; and, nearer at hand, the new barracks, and in the city itself, the ruins of the Great Mosque, once the glory of Damascus, destroyed by fire a few years ago.

From some such point as this Mahomet gazed upon this "earthly paradise," fair indeed to eyes accustomed to the dreary desert; and, declaring that man could not have his heaven both here and hereafter, refused to enter the city. By the time we were in our hotel once more, it was the hour for lunch; and, that over, a party sallied forth on foot to visit the Bazaars. All the Western associations of this word must be banished from the mind, before one can call up a picture of the thing as it is in Cairo or Jerusalem, or, most picturesque of all, in Damascus. The "streets," which Ahab won the Israelites the privilege of making in this city, were, I suppose, nothing else than bazaars. According to time-honoured custom, we have here a classification by trades: silversmiths, leather-merchants, silk-merchants, brass-workers, shoemakers, sellers of "Turkish delight," and other sweets, vendors of inlaid work and so on, all have their well-known places. Lofty arcades cover some of the rows of little open shops, with no door but a net, drawn across the front during its owner's absence. The shopkeepers themselves seem to come out of the "Arabian Nights"; so does the stream of passengers on foot or horseback, or with mules or donkeys, or even in carriages, passing through these busy scenes of traffic. On our way thither, we stopped for a moment to admire the "Plane-tree of Omar," the growth, according to tradition, of the staff which the prophet's brother planted here. It is a grand old tree.

Our dragoman undertook to do our shopping for us, but the sad experience we gained suggested (to say the least of it) that in such cases there is an understanding between him and the dealers not always to the advantage of the buyer.

As to the Eastern method of trade, it is, more or less, the same everywhere, with few exceptions. You ask the price of the article; the shopman names a figure at least twice its value; you turn away, but, relenting, offer him a fraction of what he asks; he shrugs his shoulders, raises his eyebrows, and probably extends his hands, intimating that he would be ruined; you turn away again; he follows you; you express utter indifference, but, at length, repeat your offer, and, when this haggling has gone on long enough, carry off your purchase for the nearest approach you can get to its real value. I have heard of a bargain going on for a week! What between ignorance of the language, ignorance of the coinage, and ignorance of the value of the article, shopping in Damascus is venturesome work for travellers. With such purchases as we had secured, we wended our way homeward.

Some of our party invited friends engaged