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LETTER XXXVII.

TO MRS. COGAN.

MY DEAR MADAM,

Tyre, Oct. 1, 1827.

AFTER a third visit to Tyre, and a journey from Jordan to the Lake Asphaltes, I proceed to give you some account of my route.

I hired three donkeys to take me and my equipage to Nazareth, a journey of two days and a half from Tyre. For the first twenty miles, our route lay across the summit of a lofty chain of Lebanon, which in some places overhangs the sea. The path was often on the edge of a terrific precipice, where a single false step made all the difference between life and death. The awful grandeur of the scenery equalled any thing I beheld, either in Wales or Switzerland.

Leaving Acre five miles to the East, we stretched

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along the beautiful plain of Zebulon; and on the third morning we entered Nazareth.

The capital of Gallilee is now a little village containing two thousand inhabitants, chiefly Christians; it is delightfully situated on a gentle acclivity, hemmed in on all sides by mountains; a valley of about two miles and a half in length directly faces the village.

I proceeded to the Latin Convent to take up my abode, but my reception was far from flattering. I was dressed in the miserable attire of an Arab peasant (for the country was in such a disturbed state that the life of every English traveller was in jeopardy), so the monks considered I was not in a condition to dispense much alms. They told me very gruffly they could not think of admitting a man from the infected towns through which I had passed; that the plague was probably in my baggage, perhaps on my person (I looked pale from fatigue); and, therefore, the most they could do would be to give me an empty magazine on the ground floor, which had been a carpenter's workshop.

I thanked the good fathers for their hospitable

HOSPITALITY OF A GREEK.

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offer, and ordered my luggage to be taken to the house of the Greek priest. I was resolved to see if hospitality, without regard to rank, would procure me a welcome from the Papas, and if it did not, to go to an Arab hut.

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My good Abouni," I said to him, "I have come to your gate to demand hospitality: I am a poor Englishman; I am not of your creed, but I am a weary traveller, and seek the shelter of your roof."

"Come in," said the good old priest, "you are a Christian, that is enough; eat and drink whatever you find here, and remain as long as you please."

I was more delighted than I can tell you; the moment I was left alone I doffed my pauper attire for a splendid Turkish uniform, and presented myself to my host in the kitchen to his great astonishment. He gazed on what he called my transfiguration with apparent pleasure, and his two daughters, very pretty girls, changed their contemptuous frowns to very tender glances.

I accoutred my servant with a superb sword and silver handled pistols, and, in this state, I

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CONVENT OF NAZARETH.

again visited the Latin Convent. The monk who officiated as porter, and who, a few hours before, treated me like a dog, no longer recognized me; he bowed to the earth at my approach, and interlarded his compliments every instant with Milordo and vostra Excellenza. Blessed be the man, thought I, who invented an embroidered

coat.

In the mean time the monks of the convent gathered round me; the men who shunned me as an infected, "pestilential fellow," now contended for the honour of showing me the holy places; one apologized for the rudeness of the porter in not admitting "my Lordship," another begged me to excuse the prior for being ignorant of my rank when he talked to "my Excellency" of the plague, and all entreated of me to take up my quarters in the convent. 66 Signor Padrè," said I to the monk who formerly offered me the magazine on the ground floor, "when I came to you as a poor English pilgrim you refused to receive me, but now, when I come to you as an English traveller, who seeks no charity, but perhaps bestows it, you give me welcome; but I refuse your hospitality, I

RUMOUR OF WAR.

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will not enter under your roof." I took my leave of the gaping monks, and returned to my worthy Papas.

The morning after my arrival I received a packet of letters by a "forced courier" from Acre; one contained a firman from Abdallah Pacha for travelling through his province, for this I was obliged to apply to the Austrian Consul, Signor Catafago, for such is the influence which the British Consuls possess in Syria, that to procure a common passport, I had to beg it from a foreign Consulate. Signor Catafago, whom I had never seen, very politely complied with my request, and gave me the first positive intelligence of the intention of the allies to carry the treaty of June into effect.

I had another letter from Damietta desiring me to get out of Syria as fast as possible, as an engagement was daily expected between the British and Turkish fleets. The rumour spread like a wildfire over the country, that the English and French had declared war against the Porte, and consequently that all Franks were the Sultan's foes. I was very awkwardly situated, in the interior of a country in which my nation was de

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