Year: 1872

ViuS w NiSh
hands and feet, we reached the summit
of Mount Salahiyeh, near Damascus, at
last, and sat down to look about u.s.
Right up 10 the very bases Of the noun
tains, on either side, extends perfect
sea of vegetation, through the dark
glossy green Of which, like silver
thread, winds the clear stream of the
Abana; and here and there above the
clustering leaves rise shining cupolas
and tall white towers, while in the CEN
tire of all lies the imperial city, her low
massive walls and tapering minarets
showing dazzlingly white in the glorious
sunshine, and the mighty dome of the
Great Mosque crowning the whole. In
the transparent atmosphere Of that won
derful sky, everything is brought near
to our eyes as if by magic; the little
suburb which we left behind weary
hour ago, appears to lie under our very
feet, while the swarthy Arabs, who are
crawling like black ants along the broad
white road, seem as distant as if but a
few hundred yards. In all my travels /
have seen nothing to compare with that
view, except, perhaps, the panorama OF
Moscow from the Sparrow Hills; and il
the City of the Cars has the advantage
in barbaric splendor of coloring, Damas-
Gus certainly. stands alone in beauty OF
site and splendid luxuriance Of vegeta-
ton.


From this glorious panorama we turn
away, reluctantly, to glance at the little
square tower of stone that rises beside
us, marked by tradition as the grave OF
the first murderer. Childish and impossi
BILE as tile legend is, it here assumes an
air of solemn reality. Where that inis-
erable life drew to a close, none but God
can say; but in all the earth it could
have found no filter spot for its ending
To me, at least, there is weird gran.
deur in the thought Of the lonely homi-
eide looking down forever from this
bleak mountain top, bare and desolate
as his own blasted existence, upon the
earthly paradise which he might not en-.
ter; and watching. through the count
less ages, the red torrent which he had
let loose gradually over-spreading the
whole earth. Could his fierce spirit be
pleased by deeds of blood, few spots on
the earth's surface have witnessed more
of such than this quiet beautiful valley,
from the hour when Hazael stole on tip
toe to spread 'a thick cloth, dipped in
WATER" over his masters face, to that
fatal night, eleven years ago, when ten
thousand armed murderers came howl
ing round the Christian quarter Of Da.
mascus. And now, over the graves OF
the countless slain, tile grass grows
fresh and green, and the grass hoppers
sport in the sunshine and the waters
ripple in the shadow of waving trees,
as If there was neither sin nor sorrow
in the world. Below, oil is life and
beauty, and enjoyment; above, all is 81
lenee, and ruggedness, and desolation ;
a fit spot whereon to realize the grim
belief of the red Man, that the souls OF
the wicked are led to tie summit of a
rocky ridge, whence they behold the
good far below them, dwelling in shin.
ing tents, and chasing shadowy herds
of buffalo over the ever fertile Pra;ries
of the spiritland; while they, afser one
last despairing look at the joys which
they can never share, are driven back to
wander forever among the barren noun
tains; tortured by the eternal agony OF
thirst and hunger.