jackets, and the never-to-be-omitted tarboosh, is well calculated to exhibit their beauty to the greatest advantage. In most lands the ladies present a finer appearance than do the gentlemen; but in the East one can form no idea of the loveliness of a woman's face or figure, as the former is veiled from public gaze, and the latter is enveloped in multitudinous wrappings without shape or design. In Damascus the women walk on pattens, because of the prevailing filth; and the clatter of these ungainly shoes upon the cobble-stone pavements is any thing but musical. These stilt-like shoes are frequently a foot high, being attached to the wearer by means of straps over the instep and toes; they are sometimes most elaborately finished, being inlaid with silver and mother-of-pearl, and indicate much labor and care from the cobbler or carpenter, as the case may be, who fashioned them. With the exception of the bazaars of Constantinople, those of Damascus stand without a rival, and a stroll through them is both interesting and bewildering. One long alley glitters with silks and velvets; another, with leather work, horse-trappings, etc.; and still another, with tarbooshes, slippers, and pattens. The richest and most beautiful of all are those occupied by the goldsmiths, where precious stones, gems of almost fabulous value, and jewelry of both ancient and modern workmanship, are spread before the eye of the passer-by. As all the workshops are in the bazaars, one can see the process of fashioning the various articles exposed to the general gaze; and, if his tastes run that way, can study the art of manufacturing filagree chains, Damascus silks, or leather trappings; or, descending into the more useful branches, can learn how to decoct Turkish coffee, and make sole-leather bread, fig paste, etc. Cook-shops and open-door eating-houses are to be met with on every hand, and it is estimated that there are over four hundred of them in the city; in them broths and meats are always kept in readiness for the passer-by, who, when he feels so inclined, steps to the open window, procures what he wants, and, having partaken of his lunch on the sidewalk, passes on, rejoicing that the inner man is satisfied. Damascus contains but few imposing buildings; with the exception of the khans and the great mosque, there are none. The latter is a grand edifice, and is most sacred in the eyes of all Mohammedans, who regard it with such reverence that no unbeliever is permitted to set foot within the holy precincts, and the only obtainable view of the interior is from the portico. It was originally a Christian temple, ded icated to St. John, whose head is said to be buried under it; although I have seen some half-dozen churches that claim a similar honor, it is believed in Syria that the head reposes here. The style of architecture of the great mosque is the Corinthian, and, as a consequence, its appearance is light and graceful, and its beauty is much enhanced by the minarets rising to a great elevation and overlooking the town, and from which the cry of muezzin, calling the faithful to prayer, is heard three times a day—at sunrise, at midday, and at sunset. The Moslems seem very particular in the discharge of their religious duties, at least in the outward observance of them. When it is time for prayer, no matter what the occupation or where the place, they suspend employment, and, spreading their mats and cloaks on the ground, go through a performance of bowing, kissing the earth, and prostrating themselves on their faces, never forgetting to direct their devotions toward the shrine of Mohammed, at Mecca. Among the historical and Biblical objects of importance in this city, the street called Straight occupies the first place; why it is called Straight is a matter open to conjecture, and one capable of furnishing food for much antiquarian study, as its course is any thing but a direct one. It is about a mile long, but is very narrow. Pillars of great antiquity, and sometimes much decayed, appear here and there built into the walls of the modern houses, and seem to convey the impression that the street was once arched over, to the exclusion of the sun, as are the bazaars of the present day. Strange as it may appear, the Moslems regard Paul as one of their prophets, and any thing that has been in any manner connected with him is held in great veneration; and hence the house where he lodged, which, by the way, is on the street called Straight, has been converted into a small mosque, where, at all hours, some of the faithful may be seen repeating their prayers. Here may be observed one of the peculiar ideas of this people, as the iron gratings protecting the windows of this house are completely fringed with little pieces of strings, rags, and ribbons. Upon inquiry we found that they were put here that the apostle might remember and intercede for the donors in paradise, each rag so presented representing a prayer. This custom prevails generally throughout the Orient, and I have seen bits of calico and shreds of canvas tied about the tombs of sultans, each of whom, upon death, becomes a saint. The private residences of Damascus, although often plain and rough-looking on the exterior, are very handsomely and richly fitted up. A low door gives admission into a court-yard, of the most poetical objects of interest in paved with white marble, and having a fountain in the center sending up its shower of gleaming waters, while around this court stand orange, oleander, and pomegranate trees, loading the air with fragrance and bending beneath a weight of gorgeous flowers and fruit. From this courtyard doors open into the various apartments, which are large and airy, with high ceilings: they are furnished in a style of Eastern magnificence almost realizing the wonders of Aladdin's palace. The floor usually consists of a tesselated pavement of white, green, and red marbles, in the middle of which a fountain plays, cooling the air and soothing the fancy with the melody of falling waters. Around the sides of this room are divans of damask silk, with cushions soft and yielding, suggestive of afternoon siestas, luxury, and repose. Little coffee-stands of scented wood, inlaid with silver and motherof-pearl, complete the furniture of the room. The ceiling of cedar-wood is richly arabesqued in gold and blue, and, by way of ornamentation, ostrich eggs, brilliantly colored, depend from it. As the abodes of the wealthy are costly, and supplied with every comfort, the homes of the poor are correspondingly wretched and miserable, often consisting of but the filthiest hovels, only surpassed by the huts of the Irish peasants for dirtiness and discomfort. Damascus. During our stay we saw the procession in honor of the Mecca caravan, which was just about to take up its tedious march across the desert, bearing presents and banners for the shrine of the founder of Mohammedanism. Every year great hordes of pilgrims leave from each city of the Levant, and meeting at some central point on the way, journey in company, forming a vast army of men, numbering tens of thousands in number. The appearance of this vast host, traveling over the sandy desert on beautiful Arab horses, on sure-footed camels, or else pursuing their way on foot, must be grand in the extreme. Every true believer endeavors to make the pilgrimage at least once in a life-time; very many repeat the visit as often as practicable, as for every journey the pilgrim is permitted to change the color of his turban, attaining great dignity therefrom; hence the great variety of them to be met with in the bazaars; and as those wearing colors indicative of a repetition of visits to Mecca are held in much awe and esteem, it is the aim of all ablebodied men to acquire a like distinction. The principal cities of the empire forward various adornments for the tomb, which are sent out with the caravan; that on the return brings back the gifts of the previous year. The procession which we saw was parading for the public inspection immense waxen candles, nearly eight feet high, and about a foot in diameter; said candles being the portion of the shrine ornaments which Damascus was in the habit of sending. These candles were preceded by men bearing perfumed water, which they sprinkled upon the crowd of spectators. A large conclave of soldiers and citizens escorted the orna The Christian quarter of the town presents a direct contrast to that occupied by the Mussulmans, as it is tidily kept, and is conveniently laid out with wide streets traversing it. During the massacre of 1860 this portion of the city was burned and razed to the ground, and the cruelest part of the slaughter took place amid its smoking ruins, and those who escaped with their lives were obliged to fly for safety to the open country. The indignation of the Chris-ments, marching in the rear and singing a sort tian powers was so great, upon the dissemination of the news of this fresh instance of Turkish hate and barbarity, that the sultan was alarmed, and, in order to appease their wrath, caused the pasha and some of the ringleaders of the massacre to be beheaded, and forced the inhabitants of the city to rebuild that which they had destroyed. From these causes the position of the Christians is more unpleasant than ever, as they are detested by their Mohammedan neighbors, and the slightest spark may rekindle the smoldering fires of 1860. Not far from this part of the city is the window from which Paul made his escape from his enemies by means of a basket. This window is in a venerable and mutilated tower, bearing the marks of many attacks on its rough sides. With the sacred memories attached to it, it forms one of a wail-doubtless regarded by them as a beautiful air. Occasionally they broke out into shouts, varied sometimes by yells, which, to my Western ears, sounded like the war-whoops of Indians. This triumphal march was only the preliminary to that which occurred when the caravan set forth for Mecca, at which time, as we were assured, the sight was exceedingly fine; but as our plans were such that we had to leave the city before this took place, we were reluctantly compelled to forego the great festival of the Damascenes. HAPPINESS lies in the taste, and not in the things; it is from having what we desire that we are happy-not from having what others think desirable. BEULAH. IN this fair land, O pilgrims, long aweary, Here, day and night, the sun unclouded shineth; Wait here, and take your rest; the bells are ringing- Here grow the trees of frankincense so fragrant, Open entrancing visions not of earth. No sorrow here, no saddening thought or feeling, Here come the "shining ones," from heaven's own blisses, To lead worn pilgrims through the golden gates; No faithful one the breaking glory misses, Nor ever is forgotten he who waits. No burden more, no grief, no chill derision; O, fruits of love! O, gifts of heavenly grace! Bring, Lord, our souls to Beulah-land of blessingTill, robed in white, we see thee face to face. NIAGARA. NIAGARA! thou forever wearest While viewless angels sweetly breathe Among thy wind-harp's echoing chords, And deftly round thy crescent wreathe God's bow of promise-to assure His Word forever must endure. Perhaps the barbed lightnings rent Thy channel in th' eternal rock, When died the Son the Father sent, And earth reeled, trembling at the shock; Perhaps thy myriad waters leapt And twined them then to chiming bells, The strata'd rock, till earthquake swells In organ tones peculiar sighed? O'erwhelmed in contemplating thee, The world redeemed, Messiah come; The song all tribes of earth shall know, Thronging this heaven-blessed freedom's home- Gazing, my heart-chords thrill and tremble, Heaven's hierarchs bending, worshiping, Enters the pearly gates-heaven's King, Thus, seeing thee, Niagara; Where thy adoring minstrelsy TIME'S FLIGHT. So much to do, so far to climb, Age only makes us thrifty. DREAMS. T is not possible to define, or even, with any sufficient accuracy, to describe dreaming. Dreams are so grotesque and fantastic, so manifold in their character, they flit across the mind with such lightning-like rapidity, that they can not be portrayed by any words of human speech. If it be difficult, and it is often quite impossible, to recall a dream, how much more difficult must it be to present any thing like an adequate description of the act of dreaming! But this is one of those cases in which there is no need for definition or description. Dreaming is so common, so universal, that every one knows from his own experience what it is to dream; and this is the only way of knowing. You could no more give a man who had never dreamed, a notion of dreaming, than you could give to a man blind from his birth any idea of the distinctions of color. It may be assumed that all know what a dream is, however little they might be able to give a scientific or intelligible account of one. However accounted for, and they have never yet been very satisfactorily explained, dreams are very wonderful things. There can be no doubt that different kinds of dreams have different causes, and every dream has, probably, many more causes than one. What has most largely occupied our minds during the day, is likely, in some way or other, to modify the dreams and visions of the night. Philosophers and men of science have devoted much time and attention to this subject, and not altogether without result; but, after all that has been done, we feel that "the night-side of nature" presents us with many mysteries which have never been penetrated, many problems which have never been solved. In the dreams of the night, neither the will nor the judgment seems to exercise any control. Professor Dugald Stewart, in his "Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind," furnishes us with a very clear, and on the whole satisfactory, account of some of the more remarkable phenomena of dreaming. He maintains: "First, that the succession of our thoughts in sleep is regulated by the same general laws of association to which it is subjected while we are awake; and, secondly, that the circumstances which discriminate dreaming from our waking thoughts, are such as must necessarily arise from the suspension of the influence of the will." First. That the succession of our thoughts in sleep is regulated by the same general laws of association which influence the mind while we are awake, appears from the following considerations: I. Our dreams are frequently suggested to us by bodily sensations; and with these it is well known, from what we experience while awake, that particular ideas are frequently very strongly associated. I have been told by a friend, that having occasion, in consequence of an indisposition, to apply a bottle of hot water to his feet when he went to bed, he dreamed that he was making a journey to the top of Mount Ætna, and that he found the heat of the ground almost insupportable. Another person having a blister applied to his head, dreamed that he was scalped by a party of Indians. 2. Our dreams are influenced by the prevailing temper of the mind, and vary in their complexion according as our habitual disposition at the time inclines us to cheerfulness or to melancholy. Not that this observation holds without exception, but it holds so generally as must convince us that the state of our spirits has some effect on our dreams, as well as on our waking thoughts. After having made a narrow escape from any alarming danger, we are apt to awake, in the course of our sleep, with sudden startings, imagining that we are drowning, or on the brink of a precipice. A severe misfortune, which has affected the mind deeply, influences our dreams in a similar way, and suggests to us a variety of adventures analogous, in some measure, to that event from which our distress arises. 3. Our dreams are influenced by our prevailing habits of thought and association while we are awake. Secondly. From these different observations, we are authorized to conclude, that the same laws of association which regulate the train of our thoughts while we are awake, continue to operate during sleep. I now proceed to consider how far the circumstances which discriminate dreaming from our waking thoughts, correspond with those which might be expected to result from the suspension of the influence of the will. 1. If the influence of the will be suspended during sleep, all our voluntary operations, such as recollection, reasoning, etc., must also be suspended. That this really is the case, the extravagance and inconsistency of our dreams are sufficient proofs. We frequently confound together times and places the most remote from each other; and, in the course of the same dream, conceive the same person as existing in different parts of the world. Sometimes we imagine ourselves conversing with a dead friend, without remembering the circumstances of his |