first-named of these villages we cross a ravine, at the bottom of which a very small river, called the Nahrer-Ramly, disappears. A little further on we come to the Nahr-er-Oualy, which we ford, the stream being very shallow.

As daylight is waning we discover at last Saydah, stretching out into the sea. In this day's march we have very seldom left the sea-shore, and our horses have had their feet constantly bathed by the ripple. The splashing makes them step short and sideways in the most ridiculous manner imaginable. Whenever we

turn inland we are sure to find, for instance at the Raz-en-Naby Younìs, unmistakable, but very disagreeable signs of the Roman road which led along the Phoenician coast.

Night has quite closed in, but the moon shines brightly, and the temperature seems delightful after the heat of the day. At last, following the sea-shore, we arrive at the gate of the small borough which occupies the place of the ancient Sidon. Before us rise stupendous walls, through which there seems to be no passage. But lo! we turn to the right, and then to the left, I do not know how often, threading in Indian file through lanes covered over by thick vaults, which scem to open now and then merely to give entrance to the silvery moonlight; and, after a minute's ride, we enter into a large square court surrounded by high galleries. In the centre of the court; where our luggage is already piled up, is a reservoir shaded by the luxuriant foliage of the banana and other oriental trees. This khan is a French establishment. The French Consulate, a church,

an inn kept by a good Christian woman called Angiolina : you find everything in this khan, the aspect of which is very pleasing. This is the first time we fall in with such good quarters, and we are therefore quite delighted.

Our hostess receives us very kindly; but our cook, though he has had plenty of time to prepare his abominable compounds in a real kitchen, does not give us much better fare than the day before; and after our supper we would most willingly turn in to rest, were it not that close to our bed-room some workmen are taking advantage of the cool night to pound by moon-light the earth with which they are building a terrace. These good folks, four in number, to charm their labours, sing together at the very top of their voices, seven notes, which they repeat in constant succession, timing them with the blows with which they beat the earth. Two of them hold on with the seventh note, whilst the two others begin again the whole set, and so on without cessation. At first we find this music something uncommon and amusing, but after a time we get tired of it, and we should perhaps in the end have felt annoyed with our musical neighbours, if fatigue had not very soon drowned in sleep the consciousness of all other weariness. Every thing considered, we are quite content with our day's work, and to-morrow, please the Lord, we shall take our night's abode at Sour, for time presses, and we have already lost a day's march; but we have thoroughly examined the necropolis at El-Khaldah, and besides, we hope to make up for the hours we have spent in this interesting investigation.

December 15th.

Before daylight we are on foot and promenading through Saydah. The walk is not a long one. Fifty paces through a wretched bazaar take us to the sea-beach, where we have before us the remains of the pier which anciently closed in the harbour. We are offered everywhere medals, stones with carved characters, and remnants of antiquity of all kinds. I purchase two funeral slabs, with Greek inscriptions of no very ancient date, and I assist the Abbé in taking off the stamp of another inscription of the same kind, engraved on a bas relief, which has been stuck into the very wall of the khan. It is the epitaph of an artist called Julian who has composed it for himself.

At exactly eight o'clock, everything being ready, we settle our accounts with Dame Angiolina and mount our horses. We leave Saydah through the same gate by which we entered last night, and ride at first along the city walls. These are everywhere ornamented with banana and palm trees. The sun shines out in dazzling brilliancy, and the country we traverse is most agreeable. A large road shaded by tamarind trees and kharoubiers leads us again to the sea-shore. We are gay and hearty; everything goes right, we only regret the pleasant shade we have just left.

At about two thousand yards from Saydah we fall in with a splendid shaft of a granite column lying close by the road-side. It is a milestone which had been erected by the orders of Septimius Severus and Caracalla, in the sixth year of the reign of the first of these two emperors. The inscription is still pretty well preserved, and we

remain some minutes copying it. This inscription, already noted and published by Monconys in 1695, has been published again with corrections by an English traveller, Maundrell. Since this gentleman's visit in 1705, the inscription has suffered a little, but it is nevertheless evidently the same stone he examined, and served to mark the termination of the second Roman mile from Sidon to Tyre. A little further on we found another stone, erected at the same time, and by the care of the same pro-prætor, Q. Venidius Rufus, whose name, according to Reland's statement," was written quite legibly upon a similar column, seen between the first one we have mentioned and Sidon, by an English nobleman, in 1699.

Game is plentiful throughout this country, and all our caravan to their heart's content make an amazing consumption of powder. Lapwings, ducks, herons, are by turns in imminent danger, but generally the poor creatures escape with the fright only. Not one of them thinks of flying off at our approach; the larks walk quietly under our horses' feet. Evidently the natives of this country are still less to be dreaded by the feathered tribe than we are; the reason is this: they have all too great an affection for powder and shot, which they keep for better opportunities and for quite a different species of game.

At a little distance from Saydah we crossed the rivulet which the Arabs call the Nahr-es-Saynik; then leaving to our left the Ain-el-Rhaziat, we fall in further on with another little stream which forms a kind of

• Palæstina, p. 403.

VOL I.

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morass called Birket-et-tell. After this, on the sea-shore and on a small promontory we see the Bordj-el-Akbea, a square tower in very bad condition.

We come at last to a very fine spring, the Ain-elKhantarah, with a khan of the same name close to the beach. The sea-shore is here shaded by splendid tamarisks, peopled by myriads of goldfinches who keep up a most delightful warbling. It would be impossible to find a more delightful halting-place; so we stop here to breakfast until the heat of the day is over. We do not start again until two o'clock. Soon after, we leave on the height to our left the modern village of Sarfent; to our right the promontory of Raz-Sarfent overhangs the sea, and we arrive at the ruins of Sarepta, the Zarephath of the holy Scriptures, called by the Arabs Kherbet-e-Sarfent. Here resided the poor widow who sheltered the prophet Elijah.* At present nothing remains of Sarepta but some shapeless rubbish covering a good deal of ground.

A little further on we pass through other ruins of no great extent, called by the Arabs Kaysarieh. What Cæsarea this can be, which is mentioned no where, I cannot guess. We constantly fall in again with very clearly marked remains of the Roman way, which led along the coast of Phoenicia, and we are anything but delighted whenever we come to them, for nothing can be more wearisome than travelling over the stones which formerly paved this road.

We soon descry to our left, and only a few hundred yards from our path, the Necropolis of Adloun. Of course we cannot pass it by without stopping for a

* 1 Kings, xvii. 9, 10.