228

ANCIENT CANAL.

but I believe it terminated in the Pelusiac branch of the Nile near Salehie; for here, on the left of our route, towards Suez, I found the bed of an ancient canal, much wider than any of the modern ones; and, as I could trace its course in a southerly direction for about fifty yards, I thought it very probable that it was the continuation of the canal from Suez. Consequently its course, in Burckhardt's map, is too much to the west; instead of turning off towards Belbeis, it should be traced north north west, in the direction of Salehie. Strabo speaks of this canal falling into the Pelusiac branch of the Nile, and of its being anterior to the siege of Troy; other authors ascribe its construction to Necho, and its perfection to one of the Ptolemies.

From Suez I returned to Damietta: we fell in with a horde of Bedouin robbers near Adjeronde, but they used us like "thieves of mercy :" my guides passed me off for a Turkish Hadgi, and my long black beard, I believe, saved my baggage. They protested, while they were overhauling my luggage, which was that of a pauper, that they did not want to rob me of a paras, God

BEDOUIN ROBBERS.

229

forbid! "Min Allah!" but they merely wished to borrow a little tobacco and a little coffee, and they took all I had of both: I put the best face on the robbery, and we parted in good humour. I arrived in Damietta in five days, and here I now am, waiting the departure of the first ship for Syria.

My dear Sir,

Yours very truly,

R. R. M.

LETTER XXXV.

TO JOHN ELMSLIE, ESQ.

DEAR SIR,

Tyre, August 20, 1827.

66

THERE being, at present, no

highway out of Assyria into Egypt," the traveller has to embark at Alexandria or Damietta for Beirout or Sour, the ancient Tyre. The journey by land over the Desert is wearisome and perilous: a packsaddle

on the back of a camel is a miserable substitute for a mail coach, and "a howling wilderness" is an awful route for one who has been accustomed to Macadamized roads. I crossed the bogaz of Damietta in an open boat, to get on board a vessel bound for Syria, which lay about seven miles from the shore. The sea, on the bar of the bogaz, was terrific at all times the passage is dangerous; but when it blows hard, the vessels in the roads are frequently wrecked on the bar.

At one time we had breakers all around us, and the surge dashed with such violence against the boat, as to carry away the gunnel of one side. We were not, however, born to be drowned; some little cherub sat smiling on our prow, and conducted us in safety through the roaring waves. We just got on board in time; the vessel had snapped one of her cables, and was slipping the other as we arrived. In five days we had the good fortune to reach Beirout, without falling in with any of the Greek pirates, who infest this

coast.

Some of the American missionaries, with whom I had been acquainted in Egypt, had the kindness to conduct me to their establishment, to take up my quarters with them during my stay.

The country around Beirout is beautiful; every hill which surrounds the town is planted with mulberries and to one coming from the desert shores of the Red Sea, the view from this harbour is quite enchanting.

There were five missionaries here when I arrived, whose hospitality all strangers have reason to acknowledge, and whose benevolent intentions, it is to be regretted, are frustrated by the pre

232

SYRIAN CONVERTS.

judices of the natives, and the bigotry of the Turkish rulers.

In the vessel I came in there was a box of Bibles from the Society for my friend Mr. Nicolaison, and this the government seized as contraband goods, there being a firman lately issued by the Sultan, ordering all religious books coming from England to be seized at the custom-house, and destroyed. I accompanied Mr. Nicolaison to claim his Bibles, but the Governor had sent positive instructions that not a book was to be given up.

The native Christians, on the other hand, are excommunicated by their Bishops if they hold any communion with the missionaries; and the unfortunate result is, that dissensions are sown in the bosoms of families; the priests persecute the converts, the father is set against the son, and the son against the father. The converts are, indeed, few; but the parents who formerly sent their children to the English schools (as they are called) subjected themselves to the anathema of their church no less than those who actually recanted. One young man, who openly professed his conversion, was imprisoned by his Bishop for