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settled dignity about him, which must have been sadly at variance with his real feelings at this time. He was handsomely attired in a rich robe, edged with sable; his waist was girt with a cashmere shawl, in which stuck a dagger covered with diamonds; and his fingers were clothed with rings. Black slaves in scarlet dresses presented pipes, which were adorned with magnificent amber mouth-pieces set in jewels: the Emir held one of these long pipes in his hand." CEMETERY, AND WALLS OF ANTIOCH. The Orontes is seen coming down from the White Lake, the mountains to the left are towards the pass of Beilan: the bold hill on the right is within the ruined walls. The cemetery in the foreground is beautifully situated; the prospect which it commands of the river, the gardens on its banks, the mountains, and the shattered towers and walls on their declivities, is splendid. Every step in this neighbourhood is full of heartfelt associations; whether you enter by the gate of St. Paul, and pursue your way for a quarter of an hour through a pleasant avenue, among trees and gardens, or turn to the little grotto in the side of the mountain, where the few Christians now worship. There is at present an upright man, who dwells near the Medina gate, who may be called a modern Silas of the fallen cause of Christianity. When the few members of the true faith who now inhabit Antioch, lay a few years since under suspicions with the magistracy, and under consequent apprehensions, he contrived a secret meeting-place for them within those ruined towers which are at a short distance in the romantic suburbs, and are believed to have once formed part of the fortified palace ot Seleucus.
This cemetery is without the grove of trees which usually adorns and shades the burial-places of the East. The pine, the cypress, the sycamore, are not here: the gloom of the sepulchre is unaided by that of the dark foliage above. It is thickly peopled: the tomb in front resembles those so often erected to the santons, or holy men; but the latter are more beautiful and massive, and are often placed at the verge of the desert, and around them is always planted a little group of trees. This tomb of the santon has often a beautiful effect on the landscape, for it is mostly built in some lonely place, by the side of a stream or a pool, or on the verge of the desert, where its white dome, and rich canopy of trees, are a fine relief to the barren rocks, the rank grass, or the wastes of sand. Often I have paused beside one of these memorials, on the border or in the heart of the wilderness, and thought that it looked more like a cheerful refuge for the living than a home for the dead. The shadow of its trees was so lovely—and, far as the eye could reach, no other shelter from the heat, no other waters for the thirst, were visible. The Orientals evince an admirable taste in their places of sepulture, whether for a community or an individual. We are satisfied to erect superb monuments and costly homes for those we love: the Turk and the Arab build a simple and impressive tomb to their eminent persons, but are careful to place it where waters of mercy shall flow beside, and noble trees shall screen it from the heat by day, and the