In the rocky bed to the north-east of the town are many excavated sepulchres, with some fragments of Roman sarcophagi. One of the caves that we saw, had a descent into it by steps, like those at Ladikeia; the others were entered by square, and sometimes arched, door-ways. Their interior arrangement was in long niches and recesses, formed for placing the bodies laterally along the walls, after the Roman manner, and not placing them endwise into deep and narrow cavities, like those of the Egyptian Necropolis at Alexandria, of the Sidonian tomb near Abra, or of the Arvadite sepulchres, opposite to the island, south of Tartoose.

We observed that two of the arched entrances of these caves were executed with greater care than usual, having sculptured pillars at their portals; immediately over these was the most interesting monument that remains there, and, indeed, the only one that is perfect as an original one. From a base of about fifteen feet square, by eight feet high, and of good masonry, rise four pure Ionic columns, forming themselves a square, as standing at the angles of the base below, and supporting a roof composed of three large blocks of stone, the under parts of which are flat, and the upper formed into a pyramid, which terminates the whole. We noticed no inscription on this monument, though from want of time our search was not so scrutinizing as to be able to pronounce that no vestiges of one could be traced.

Near to this is a large subterraneous cistern, similar to those at Alexandria, and apparently formed here as a reservoir for rainwater, there being no streams in the plain. The roof of this is formed of large flat beams of stone, as in the monument described, and these are supported from below by several ranges of square pillars, the shafts of which, though unpolished and rudely hewn, are many of them in one piece of 20 feet in length.

The present town has a population of about 500 souls, all Mohammedan, for whose accommodation there is a small mosque with a square mināreh, and six domes in two ranges, probably

crowning two correspondent aisles within. The women here wear the open-front blue gowns, and narrow red aprons, with white upper cloths for the head, which are merely crossed over the neck, and leave their faces unveiled, like the costume of the female peasants in the villages near Damascus.

On the west and north-west of the town, at the distance of a mile or two, is a range of stony hills, branching off from those we had crossed in the night, and on these were seen many ruined villages, all, perhaps, the remains of old Roman settlements. To the south was also a large village, at present inhabited, called Ekbrihh, and distant, apparently, about three miles.

We left the village of Dāna about an hour after sun-rise, and went easterly over a plain of rich soil, partly covered with corn nearly ripe, and partly now ploughing for the second harvest. Agriculture seemed to be well understood here, and its labours performed with as much care and neatness as in Europe. The absence of enclosures occasions very large portions of ground to be ploughed on in continuance; but though many of the furrows were of a length not to be measured by the eye, they were all perfectly strait at regular distances; such, indeed, as the best of our ploughmen might not be ashamed to have turned up.

The improved state of cultivation here was followed by its necessary consequence, a more abundant population. Besides the villages of El-Ekbrihh and Dana, we passed, at the foot of the range of hills on our left, three other larger ones in succession, namely, El-Hhuzzeny, Tal-deady, and El-Hhaleaka, all at the distance of about a mile from each other, and the last at the foot of a high peaked mountain, the name of which we did not learn. These villages are all peopled by Moslems, and, as far as we had an opportunity of judging from the appearance of the peasantry at work in the fields, they were active, industrious, and far above the distress of want.

An hour after leaving Dana, going always nearly east, we came to the end of the plain, and began again to ascend a ridge

of bare lime-stone hills, called generally by the name of Jebel Seman. We saw many scattered ruins here also, particularly one of a large town, called Dirrhman, said to be Shookl Koofar, or the work of infidels, now entirely deserted, and standing on the summit of one of the ridges described.

Ascending and descending alternately for about an hour, in the course of which we passed one narrow valley cultivated with corn, and saw ruined villages and detached buildings on both sides of us, we reached the highest summit of the range. There was here a small inhabited village, and a larger deserted one, with several wells and cisterns hewn out of their rocky bed; the whole surrounded by small portions of the soil planted with fig-trees. We could see from hence, that the line of Jebel Ahhmar on the north was continued by a higher range of mountains running also nearly east, and having many parts of its summit covered with snow; the whole line being, no doubt, a ramification of the Great Taurus of the ancients, or that south-western branch of it which divides Asia Minor from Syria.

Continuing our way E.S.E. for about an hour and half over very stony and uneven ground, but slightly cultivated, and strewed with ruins of villages here and there, we came on the top of an elevated plain, from which we had the first sight of Aleppo; the mināreh of its high castle being but barely visible. It bore from us exactly E. by S., said to be distant four hours, and apparently about twelve miles off. The highest part of Mount Taurus, which was covered with snow, and resembled in form and size that portion of Lebanon occupied by the cedars, bore from us, at the same time, N.W. by N., and appeared to be distant about fifty miles. Our level was now at least two thousand feet above that of the sea, and, though on a plain, many of the distant hills around us looked comparatively low. The peak of Jebel Okrah could not be seen, nor that abrupt termination of the range which overlooks the town of Antāky, so that no bearing of it could be taken to fix the relative position of these points from Aleppo.

We had now gone over nearly the whole of the direct road from the port of Seleucus to the city of Antioch, and from thence to the Berea of antiquity, which Aleppo is thought to be. Every part of it, as may be seen, offer proofs of the once highly populated state of the country, and the corresponding existence of public roads, towns, and edifices by the way, under the government of the Romans, when Syria was but a small province of their mighty empire. The contests between their successors for the disputed triumph of the crescent or the cross, first began to sweep away that population, and demolish its monumental labours; and those slower but equally certain destroyers, an overgrown military force and a purely despotic sway, have contributed to prolong that gradual decline, until no hope remains of this country ever attaining the abundance, the comfort, the wealth, and the strength it once possessed, until it shall pass into other hands.

From the plain last mentioned, we continued our way over a stony and barren road, until, about El-Assr, we saw the high castle of Aleppo rising from behind a round ridge, or wave of the land, that had until then intercepted it, and soon afterwards the whole town opened on our view. From the bareness of the hills around, and the general monotony of the city itself, when viewed at this distance, the prospect of the whole was far from prepossessing. The buildings seemed crowded in one indistinct mass of white; the minārehs and domes were few, in comparison with the number of those seen in Turkish cities in general; and, excepting only some small gardens in the immediate neighbourhood of the town, there was neither wood nor verdure to give relief to the scene.

ON entering Aleppo we proceeded through many streets, until we reached the house of Mr. Barker, the British consul here, where we alighted; and going up into the ante-room I desired the janissary to announce my arrival. There was a delay, and enquiries, and messages, for at least half an hour, which I did not at all understand, until I was at length desired to walk into the hall of audience. Here I was received with a very marked coldness, which I could not but notice; my questions were replied to with studied brevity, my observations often scrutinized, and, in short, the treatment such as could leave me no longer in doubt of there being some cause for it, of which I was entirely ignorant. A younger brother of Mr. Barker, whom I had known