LETTERS FROM THE EAST.NO. IX.

Mount Sinai.

WE left Cairo on the 29th of October, in the afternoon, and after proceeding a few miles from the city, our conductors stopped an hour or two near a small caravan that had halted close to some barren hills. Three of our camels were loaded with skins of water, sacks of charcoal, and an excellent tent. The sensation is singular at first finding yourself on the back of the camel; the situation is sufficiently elevated, and not the most soft or comfortable, and the trot of the animal shakes you almost to a mummy, till you get somewhat accustomed to it. The general rate of travelling is a long walk of three miles an hour, which is the caravan pace. At sunset we went on for about four hours, and then stopped for the night in the midst of the desert. A fire was lighted and supper cooked, but, on putting up the tent, the pole broke, and this obliged us to sleep in the open air. The tent was repaired at Suez, but we never used it during the whole journey, being generally so fatigued on halting for the night, and exposed to start again at such uncertain hours, that we did not care to be at the trouble of fixing and taking it down. The next day passed without any thing deserving notice, save that our route, as far as the eye could reach, was utterly barren-a vast plain of sand with little undulation of surface. The third day we were to set out very early. I chanced to awake before it was light, and perceiving the Arabs seated round a good fire, could not help joining them. This was one of the scenes that one often loves to picture. Jouma, the chief, had just kneaded and placed a flat cake among the embers, and the Arabs were seated in a group around, smoking and sipping coffee, and enjoying themselves highly, for the deserts were to them as a home. There is surely a charm in this wild and wandering life, for one soon grows attached to it. These Arabs were very lively and civil, but a wild race, living among the rocks near Mount Sinai in tents. They always carry their coffee, and a pot to boil it in, with them; having first roasted it in a small pan, they pound it with a stick, and a bag of flour to make cakes is their sole provision for a journey besides, for they seldom eat any flesh; they each carried a musquet with a matchlock. There was not the least verdure to be seen till we arrived near Adjerud, a wretched village about four miles from Suez. Here a few scattered trees were visible, but the village was concealed behind a range of rocky hills, at the foot of which we took up our abode for the night. This part of the country was the haunt of robbers, and our guides were very unwilling to halt here, and, fearful lest we might be attacked in the night, they kept watch throughout the whole of it, but all passed off quietly. Mr. W. however, who was conveying a large chest of Bibles to Mount Sinai, was extremely agitated, lest the robbers, on attacking us, should carry away his chest, as in that case all the hopes of his journey would perish, but the Bedouins would probably quite as soon have left it behind. The next day we arrived at Suez in the forenoon, and having a letter for the Consul for our nation there, who was a Greek, we were received by his son, who spoke some English. The father, a very fine old man, with a white beard, soon made his appearance. Some cakes and wine, the latter from Jerusalem, were brought, and dinner ordered to be ready in

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an hour.

In the mean time we walked down to the shore of the Red Sea. This can only be called a corner of it, as it is narrow and shallow, and its termination is about three miles above. forms the shore on the right; the opposite coast of Arabia is flat and A range of mountains sandy. Suez is a wretched town, and surrounded by a low wall. The old consul gave us an excellent dinner, and at night we returned to our rude resting-place without the walls: yet it was not without its comforts, for, having procured some delicious fish out of the Red Sea, we formed a circle on the sand, supped in high spirits, and sipped our coffee with greater zest than we should have done in a luxurious drawing-room at home. Having passed round the termination of the sea the next morning, we bent our course towards the wilderness of Sinai, and came in a few hours to four or five pools of water, called the Fountains of Moses, but at which it is not probable he could ever have been.

The weather continued beautiful, scarcely a cloud to be seen in the sky, and not a living thing on earth; and this deep solitude and silence, with the uncommon purity of the air, have a strong effect on the imagination. You feel as if you ruled in this vast and inanimate scene, and possess a buoyant and joyous spirit amidst its savage sands and rocks, and feel the truth of a remark of Lord B.'s of a young French renegade, who resided many years in the East, and who said that often when riding alone in a boundless desert, he has felt a delight that was indescribable. On the morning of the third day our water-skins were exhausted, and we had to push on for five or six hours ere we arrived at the next fountain; it was situated at the edge of the wilderness of Paran. One of the Arabs had gone on before to the spot, and it being by this time very hot, we sprang from our camels, boiled our coffee, and though the water was rather brackish, no breakfast was ever more welcome. The desert now assumed a bolder character. Hitherto it had been a waste of sand, generally hard, and varied with some hills and high rocks towards the horizon. These were now increased to mountains, which rose also on each side the path, and gave it a fine and romantic character. Mr. W.'s servant, Franco, afforded us some amusement. He was very artful, and a great glutton, though he persuaded his master he half-starved himself; and when he came to a meal, generally cast on it such a look as the good St. Bruno did on his bread mixed with ashes, when he wept at the thought that man should take such trouble about the body; but when Franco found himself alone, cheese, rice, and coffee disappeared like magic. He had a nose and chin like a hatchet, and settling himself on the camel's back in the position of one of the granite statues of Memnon, used to sing pious German psalms through the desert half the day long. Towards evening, Franco was generally most melodious, but the tunes were mostly mournful; his voice had a sort of nasal twang, and the rugged German cadence used to strike the Arabs with dismay. It was good sport afterwards to desire Franco to sing in a numerous circle of these people; he had hardly finished three or four stanzas before some laughed, others vehemently desired him to stop, with many expressions of displeasure.

Leaving the valley of Paran, the path led over a rocky wilderness, to render which more gloomy the sky became clouded, and a shower of rain fell. By moonlight we ascended the hills, and after some hours? progress, rested for the night on the sand. The dews had fallen heavy

for some nights, and the clothes that covered us were quite wet in the morning; but as we advanced, the dews ceased. Our mode of life, though irregular, was quite to a wanderer's taste. We sometimes stopped for an hour at mid-day, or more frequently took some bread and a draught of water on the camel's back; but we were repaid for our fatigues, when we halted for the evening, as the sun was sinking in the desert, and, having taken our supper, strolled amidst the solitudes, or spent the hours in conversation till dark. But the bivouac by night was the most striking, when, arriving fatigued long after dark, the two fires were lighted, I have frequently retired to some distance to gaze at the group of Arabs round theirs, it was so entirely in keeping. They were sipping their coffee and talking with expressive action and infinite vivacity; and as they addressed each other, they often bent over the flame which glanced on their white turbans and drapery and dark countenances, and the camels stood behind, and stretched their long necks over their masters. Having finished our repast, we wrapped ourselves in our cloaks, and lay down round the fire: and let not that couch be pitied, for it was delightful, as well as romantic, to sink to rest as you looked on that calm and glorious sky, the stars shining with a brilliancy you have no conception of in our climate. Then in the morning we were suddenly summoned to depart, and the camels being loaded, we were soon on the march. Jouma frequently chaunted his melancholy Arab song, for at this time we were seldom disposed to converse, and were frequently obliged to throw a blanket over our cloak, and walk for some hours, to guard against the chillness of the air. The sunsets in Egypt are the finest, but to see it rise in its glory, you must be in the desert,-nothing there obscures or obstructs it. You are travelling on chill and silent, and your looks bent toward the East; a variety of glowing hues appear and die away again, and for some time the sky is blue and clear; when the sun suddenly darts above the horizon, and such a splendour is thrown instantly on the wide expanse of sand and rocks, that if you were a Persian adorer, you would certainly break out like the Imaun from the minaret, in praise and blessing.

The way now became very interesting, and varied by several narrow deep valleys, where a few stunted palms grew. The next morning we entered a noble desert, lined on each side by lofty mountains of rock, many of them perfectly black, with sharp and ragged summits. In the midst of the plain, which rose with a continual yet gentle ascent, were isolated rocks of various forms and colours, and over its surface were scattered a number of shrubs of a lively green. Through all the route we had met few passengers. One or two little caravans, or a lonely wanderer with his camel, had passed at times and given us the usual salute of "Peace be unto you." While at Suez, we were fortunate enough to purchase a few pounds of excellent tea, and it now proved of inestimable use to us. It was a good piece of advice of Dr. C. the traveller, to those who visit the East, to provide themselves with this luxury. It was impossible to procure animal food on such a journey. Some rice and bread and coffee constitute your chief subsistence. We passed this evening a small place of graves at the foot of a high precipice; they were the tombs of Arabs who had died in their journey through this wilderness. They were erected by their companions, and consisted of rude pieces of rock fixed in the sand. A few of these burial-places are seen scattered amidst these deserts, and they are

generally situated in some secluded spot, or beneath the shade and protection of a mountain. Although Mohammedans, the Arabs appear to have very imperfect notions of religion. Our escort was but little given to prayer, and the tribes we afterwards fell in with, got on without it altogether. Mr. W. made many attempts to enlighten the minds of Jouma and his comrades; but Franco was of another stamp; he used to slip aside of an evening and pray very devoutly to the Virgin Mary. Idolater that he was, his master's efforts to convert him to the bosom of Protestantism, proved in vain but it was not till after supper that his mind was given to aspiration. This night, our place of halting was in a very wild valley, inclosed by naked and precipitous mountains, on whose sides the moonlight fell vividly. In the midst of the glen below, the Arabs and their camels formed an animated group. The dress of these people is picturesque, being of a coarse white colour, and consisting of a turban, a tunic, sash, a shiluah, or loose pantaloon, that reaches just below the knee, like the Highland kilt, and sandals. We sent Jouma and Michal on before to the convent of Sinai, to give notice of our approach. Long before sun-rise the following day, we set out, and stopped in a most romantic valley; and the morning being chill, we collected a large quantity of shrubs for fire, and made our breakfast.

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The Israelites, during their wanderings of forty years in these deserts, must have lived but insipidly, even with manna and quails, having nothing but water to drink, after a cold night's encampment, or amidst the burning heats of the day. You feel careless what you eat in such a region, but to be debarred coffee, tea, or now and then a little limejuice, would be misery; without the former, it is certain the Arabs could not endure existence; they are satisfied with a little coarse bread or unleavened cake twice a-day, but coffee is more than manna to them. A few hours more we got sight of the mountains round Sinai. Their appearance was magnificent; when we drew nearer and emerged out of a deep pass, the scenery was infinitely striking, and on the right extended a vast range of mountains as far as the eye could reach, from the vicinity of Sinai down to Tor. They were perfectly bare, but of grand and singular form. We had hoped to reach the convent by daylight, but the moon had risen some time, when we entered the mouth of a narrow pass, where our conductors advised us to dismount. gentle, yet perpetual ascent, led on mile after mile up this mournful valley, whose aspect was terrific, yet ever varying. It was not above two hundred yards in width, and the mountains rose to an immense height on each side. The road wound at their feet along the edge of a precipice, and amidst masses of rock that had fallen from above. It was a toilsome path, generally over stones, placed like steps, probably by the Arabs, and the moonlight was of little service to us in this deep valley, as it only rested on the frowning summits above. Where is Mount Sinai? was the inquiry of every one. The Arabs pointed before to Gabel Mousa, the Mount of Moses, as it is called, but we could not distinguish it. Again, and again, point after point was turned, and we saw but the same stern scenery. But what had the softness and beauty of Nature to do here? Mount Sinai required an approach like this, where all seemed to proclaim the land of miracles, and to have been visited by the terrors of the Lord. The scenes, as you gazed around, had an unearthly character, suited to the sound of the fearful trumpet that was once heard there. We entered at last on the more open valley,

about half a mile wide, and drew near this famous mountain. Sinai is not so lofty as some of the mountains around it, and in its form there is nothing graceful or peculiar to distinguish it from others. Near midnight we reached the Convent of St. Catherine, at the foot of the mountain, and surrounded by a high wall, to guard it against the Arabs. Jouma was lying fast asleep at its foot, wrapped in his cloak, beside the embers of his fire, but he instantly arose and welcomed us. Michel was safely housed in the convent. After calling loudly for some time, a window was opened at the top of the wall, and a rope thrown down; fastening this round the body, and grasping it fast, we were drawn up one after another by the monks, and received in through the window, which was the only place of entrance. Our baggage came up afterwards, and then we were conducted up several flights of steps and passages to our chambers. Michel, who spoke Modern Greek ̄like a native, and who was our only interpreter with these monks, had allotted a room for Mr. C. and myself, and another for Mr. W. and his servant. These apartments are very small, and covered with a handsome carpet and cushions, with part of the floor raised in the eastern style, and a neat lamp was suspended from the ceiling and already lighted. There was real voluptuousness in all this to our feelings, after the passage through the desert. After all, happiness is in a great measure derived from the contrast of situations; and is, in this respect, perhaps, not unlike eastern scenery-plains and valleys blooming like Paradise, amidst naked mountains and wilds. No calm, comfortable, luxurious life in England could ever afford those vivid and transporting feelings which were ours during those journeys in the East. These recluses are of the Greek church, and are about twenty in number, mostly elderly The convent was founded by Justinian, fourteen hundred years ago. It is large, and kept remarkably clean. They brought us a frugal supper, and some brandy made out of dates, and we then walked in the corridor without, situated in the loftiest part of the convent. The precipices of Sinai encircled and hung over the convent, and the moonlight now rested on them. The next morning we heard the voices of the monks at their prayers very early, and they invited us to breakfast with them in the refectory at nine o'clock. This meal is the only one they have during the day; though, if any one is much in want afterwards, he is allowed a little bread and cheese in his own cell about sunset. The breakfast consisted of a small loaf of fine white bread, a dish of pea, or barley-soup, a few radishes, and a small glass of brandy to each person, for they never eat animal food. The refectory is a long, and very good room, with a large picture of Hell and Paradise at the higher end, that they may not indulge too much in the good things of this world at breakfast. The damned are writhing in all sorts of grotesque postures, and the righteous rejoicing at the very edge of the flames. In a small pulpit near the door stood a monk, who read out of the gospels all the time of the repast, and there were many occasional crossings and cessations of eating among the good fathers at different periods of the lecture. Now the dish of soup was so substantial, that it really required a day's journey through the desert to get on with it at all; but the spoons of the good fathers never ceased solemnly going, till all was devoured, and the loaf and salad bore company with it. They then rose and turned to the altar, and after sundry gesticulations, we all adjourned to the corridor without, where coffee was handed round, two cups to each monk. These

men.