THE RIVER BARRADA, THE ANCIENT PHARPAR.

«Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Jordan?' was a boast very natural for one who had loved their shores perhaps from childhood, to whom the plain of Damascus was as the garden of Eden; but the river of Israel is more considerable and more pleasant to the eye, than the Pharpar, or Barrada, which rises in the rocky hills twenty miles above Damascus, and is afterwards drawn off in many little streams among the gardens in the plain, till its diminished tide joins those of the other rivers in the cataract without the walls. Like the Jordan, it is clear and rapid, and wanders circuitously for several leagues through a wilderness of gardens, whose innumerable fruit-trees, flowers, and water-works it keeps perpetually fresh and full: it is a stream that peculiarly ministers to luxury and enjoyment; every fathom of its course is precious and useful to the pleasure-loving Damascenes, who, reclining on its banks, beneath the shadow of their own trees, or in a little summer-house, listen to its quick murmur, smoke, and sip coffee, while their beautiful Arab steeds, richly caparisoned, are near, to take their indolent masters home in the cool of the evening. Yet to the eye that loves to feast on the waters, of river or sea—on their wildness or repose— Damascus cannot give the delight or inspiration of Constantinople or Cairo: its "cribb'd and cabin'd" streams are exquisite additions to the landscape, but do not wake " the dreaminess, the far, resistless musings," which are felt beneath the groves of the Bosphorus or the Nile.

The scene in the plate is a large meadow without the city, through which the Barrada flows: to the right is an ancient mosque, now an hospital, and some smaller mosques lift their minarets above the trees: the ancient wall is said to be about five miles in circumference, low, and incapable of a good defence. The tents of the caravan from Damascus to Bagdad are pitched on each shore: among the figures are several Persian hadgees, or pilgrims, in a costume quite contrasted with the Arab or Turkish. After the fatigues and privations of the pilgrimage, this large, cool, and pleasant meadow is a welcome resting-place to the caravan: the luxuriant trees, the river, the luxuries of the city close at hand, without its heat or crowd: the spacious tents stand temptingly open; cooking, conversing, making bargains, reclining on carpets: contrast is the food, the marrow, of an Oriental's life: the Prophet would have done an infinite service to all his believers, if he had absolutely commanded every one of them to