rous mosques, many of which are grand and
imposing structures. The course of the river through the centre of the
picture is marked by a belt of the greenest verdure, beyond which, to the
west, rises a chain of naked red hills, and still further, fading on the
horizon, the blue summit of Mt. St. Simon, and the coast range of Akma
Dagh. Eastward, over vast orchards of pistachio trees, the barren plain of
the Euphrates fades away to a glimmering, hot horizon. Looking downwards
on the heart of the city, I was surprised to see a number of open, grassy
tracts, out of which, here and there, small trees were growing. But,
perceiving what appeared to be subterranean entrances at various points, I
found that these tracts were upon the roofs of the houses and bazaars,
verifying what I had frequently heard, that in Aleppo the inhabitants
visit their friends in different parts of the city, by passing over the
roofs of the houses. Previous to the earthquake of 1822, these vast
roof-plains were cultivated as gardens, and presented an extent of airy
bowers as large, if not as magnificent, as the renowned Hanging Gardens of
ancient Babylon.

Accompanied by Signor di Picciotto, we spent two or three days in
visiting the houses of the principal Jewish and Christian families in
Aleppo. We found, it is true, no such splendor as in Damascus, but more
solid and durable architecture, and a more chastened elegance of taste.
The buildings are all of hewn stone, the court-yards paved with marble,
and the walls rich with gilding and carved wood. Some of the larger
dwellings have small but beautiful gardens attached to them. We were
everywhere received with the greatest hospitality, and the visits were
considered as a favor rather than an intrusion. Indeed, I was frequently
obliged to run the risk of giving offence, by declining the refreshments
which were offered us. Each round of visits was a feat of strength, and we
were obliged to desist from sheer inability to support more coffee,
rose-water, pipes, and aromatic sweetmeats. The character of society in
Aleppo is singular; its very life and essence is etiquette. The laws which
govern it are more inviolable than those of the Medes and Persians. The
question of precedence among the different families is adjusted by the
most delicate scale, and rigorously adhered to in the most trifling
matters. Even we, humble voyagers as we are, have been obliged to regulate
our conduct according to it. After our