I now proceed to give some account of Batavia, &c. Although this city is situated in the midst of low, marshy ground, abounding in rice-swamps, and considered as the most unhealthy spot in the world, yet it is, nevertheless, a great commercial place, and is much frequented by vessels bound to or from the China sea, Hindostan, Sumatra, Singapore, &c., &c.; and it is the only place in the world which has any trade to Japan, with the exception of China. It is most conveniently situated to obtain commercial information, and for refreshments. Before Singapore was made a free port, it was the principal mart for the country trade of the East Indies. Subsequently it has much diminished, and the very valuable trade with the Bugis, or natives of the Celebes, and other islanders of the Indian Archipelago, has been entirely diverted to Singapore, where the traders can always obtain a ready sale for their cargoes, and receive, in return, European, India, and Chinese goods, at more moderate prices, without having to pay any duties, or be subject to those inconvenient restrictions, which are so annoying in Dutch ports.

The immense ware-houses, running from street to street, situated on the great canal and river, leading into the bay, which were once burdened with merchandise, are now scantily filled, or nearly empty; and there are but few places so large as Batavia, in the present day, which show less signs of an active commerce, less bustle on the quays, or exhibit a greater degree of dulness, and want of bustle in the streets. This is owing, in part, to the belligerent attitude of Holland and Belgium; the alarming war with the Sumatrans; the establishment of a free port by the British; but more particularly, to the narrow-contracted views of the government, in regard to commerce. The Dutch government wish to drive all foreign commerce from their ports in Netherlands’ India, with the exception of the native traders of the Indian isles; and to extend, if it be possible, their unjust and iniquitous system of monopolies, and of forced cultivation, upon the natives, which have so often driven them to despair and revolt, causing whole districts, containing many thousands, to abandon their lands and their homes, and fly to the fastnesses of the mountains, or to what are called the native provinces—preferring a very precarious mode of living, to being made the worst of slaves to the worst of masters, by being forced to cultivate coffee, and then to sell it for about half its fair market value, to the Dutch company, leaving them, in fact, no means of support.

Old Batavia is but the shadow of what it was in former days. It was once called the “Queen of the East;” her merchants were “princes of the earth,” in point of wealth, and lived in a style of magnificence, which far surpassed every other to the eastward of the cape of Good Hope, with the exception, in more modern days, of Calcutta. A traveller, visiting Batavia at the present day, inquires for the splendid palaces, noble avenues of trees, and neat canals, with the gay pleasure-boats, which used to be seen sporting on their surface, accompanied with music, and graced with numberless enchanting females. He then visits the most fashionable streets of former days, and a truly painful sight is presented at every step: of choked canals covered with slime, and green stagnant pools, a resort of frogs and snakes, and other reptiles. The noble avenues of trees, which led to splendid habitations, and the heavy, massive gateways, are still seen; but the houses are either crumbling in the dust, or else a miserable palm-leaf hovel encumbers the space they once ornamented. But the gay inhabitants, who once gave life and animation to these fair scenes, where are they? Alas! fled with “the years beyond the flood.” Their bodies lie mouldering, not only in the tens of thousands, or even the hundreds of thousands, but in the millions of graves which occupy, for many miles in extent, the city and its suburbs.

They present a most painful and humiliating spectacle to every beholder, whose feelings are not wholly callous to so sad a scene. The tenantable houses which remain, are occupied by a squalid and sickly race of Chinese, Malays and Bugis, who are generally very poor, and live upon the scantiest substance, being unable to remove to a better country, away from the pestiferous air which destroys their health, occasioned by deleterious swamps, stagnant pools, and the miasma which is constantly generating from the decomposition of vegetable matter.

It may be thought that I have given an exaggerated statement of the frightful mortality which has prevailed, and frequently does prevail at Batavia—which clothes the ground with graves, and encumbers it with monuments; but the returns of the Dutch records, according to Raynal, give the deaths of eighty-seven thousand sailors and soldiers, in the hospitals, from 1714 to 1776; and upward of one million of inhabitants, in the very short space of twenty-two years, from 1730 to 1752, which can no longer leave any doubts as to its perfect correctness.

Since the walls of the city were demolished by the British, and a great number of filthy and useless canals have been filled up, the general opinion is, (and more particularly within the last half dozen years,) that the old town is rather less sickly than formerly; however, no new houses are being erected within the city proper, but are extending altogether beyond the old barrier, in a southerly and easterly direction towards the country, from two to five miles, where it has been found much more healthy.

Stately avenues of trees line the roads, and the few canals remaining are kept more clean than formerly. The modern houses are airy and spacious, generally of one story in height, and surrounded generally, with very wide piazzas. The avenues leading to the houses are kept neatly gravelled; and the grounds are adorned with trees, shrubs, and flowers: showing a correct taste which seems (to make use of a mercantile phrase) to have been imported from England, for it is quite at variance with the general style of laying out Dutch pleasure-grounds. In fact, there is an air of neatness and comfort displayed, which serves to divert the mind from dwelling too much on the fact, that you are living in the midst of this store-house of disease, where you are constantly warned by the inhabitants to keep away from every partial draft of air, for if the perspiration is checked, a fever or diarrhoea, or more fatal dysentery will ensue; and you are again warned, if the sea-breeze should set in early, before the sun has had time to absorb the exhalations, the malaria of the marshes, to keep within your room with closed doors. The night air is also highly deleterious, and the fervid rays of a noonday sun not less fatal, so that no person who is able fails to keep a carriage. Constant and profuse perspiration soon impairs the digestive organs, loss of appetite follows and debility ensues: mental and bodily exertion becomes painful, and the health is soon impaired.

These are a few among the many, many drawbacks of an unhealthy tropical climate; yet every climate is to be found in Java, from the most unhealthy to the most salubrious, from swamps teeming with exhalations in the highest degree noxious, to the pure mountain-breeze, which brings health on its wings, and is redolent with the sweets wafted from a thousand fragrant flowers.

The merchants go to the city about nine, take tiffin at their counting-houses at twelve, return to the country about four, and dine between six and seven. As soon as the lights appear on the table, it is the signal for the sport of myriads of moschetoes and midges. Boots are then indispensable, unless the feet and ankles are otherwise well covered; when the knife and fork do not claim the attention, your hands are industriously employed in driving off these eternal pests from the exposed parts of the body.

The hospitality of the English, Scotch, and Americans, is proverbial, and they live upon the most amicable terms; there is none of that petty jealousy, and bad feeling, which is seen to exist among rival houses, in many other places.

The custom-house stands on the brink of the great canal, which leads into the bay, and where it once terminated, it probably extends now three quarters of a mile beyond it, to the barrier or break-water, which has lately been erected at its entrance; it is extremely shallow, suitable only for very small craft, and as it is constantly filling up by accumulations of filth from the city, and by mud and sand thrown in by the sea-breeze, it is probable it will within a few years, extend as far again into the bay. As a baneful monopolizing spirit seems to pervade this government in almost every particular, even the poor fishermen are not exempt, who labour continually in a broiling sun, or a deluge of rain, following their vocation far at sea. Their fish are sold at public auction at two o’clock every afternoon, so that the government may take their share of the “fishes” which fall to their lot; the “loaves” are obtained from the poor cultivators of the soil. The retailers, mostly Chinese, buy and hawk them about in baskets every where, at a very considerably advanced price.

The criminals repairing and extending the canal, may be hourly seen in the water, among caymans or huge alligators, and are said never to have been molested by them, but in one instance, while a white man is certain to be seized at once. If the alligator show a decided preference for the whites, the buffaloes throughout India show a very strong aversion to them, and either attack them or run from them in dismay; yet the smallest Indian boy has them under complete control.

The buffaloes, on the great western prairies in the United States, show the same aversion to the whites, or probably to all hunters, and, whenever they see them, they fly in great terror; the hunters, therefore, always go to leeward of the herd.

The Chinese burying-grounds occupy a vast extent of land in the suburbs; I may say, with truth, of many miles. Near one of them is an old temple, in which are deposited, probably, fifteen or twenty idols, principally made of granite, dug up at various times, on the island. They are said to be of Javanese origin, but they must have been brought thither by Bramins in bygone days. The Chinese worship them, as they do every thing else that bears the remotest appearance to “the human face divine,” or any of the hideous images representing the demon of mischief—any thing, but the one, great, invisible Being. The public archives are kept in the extensive building, called the palace, at Weltevoredem.

The governor does not occupy this building, when in town, but a much smaller one, on the street of which the “Genootschap,” or academy of arts and sciences occupies one part, in the building kept for public parties, called the “Harmonic.”

The palace is a noble building, and kept in good order. In the audience hall are about forty pictures, of the Dutch governor-generals of Netherlands’ India. Some of them are dressed in very quaint costume, and if their countenances are faithfully represented, I must say, no man would willingly change faces with the greater part of them. There are a few, however, of noble and manly features, who have nothing savouring of the “thumbscrew” in their countenances. Generally, the paintings are bad—some four or five are very valuable. A full-length portrait of his present majesty is placed at the head of the room.

The wages paid to servants have nearly doubled within a few years; the present rate is from six to twelve guilders (equal to two dollars, forty cents, or four dollars, eighty cents) per month, out of which they furnish their provisions in part, which consist principally of rice, it being a very cheap article in Java. Considering that each servant attends to but one piece of duty—that one bujong attends to the cutting of grass only, for two horses, which occupies but a small part of the day, and that the larger portion of the time of the almost innumerable servants is spent in idleness, labour is excessively high, compared with that of any other country, even the dearest parts of the United States. The house-servants, with few exceptions, are Malays, who speak no English.

The Genootschap, or Academy of Arts and Sciences, has a small library of a few hundred volumes. With the exception of a model of a bridge, a Javanese lion, some half dozen miniature models of Japanese houses, warlike instruments, a few coins, and a few common shells, there is nothing worth naming.

Our kind Batavian friends accompanied us on board, and on the twenty-second of July we sailed for Angier, where we arrived the following day. During our stay the thermometer ranged in the roadstead from 83° to 89°, and the barometer between 29.75 to 29.95. There were only five days on which it rained, and then only light showers. There were some cases of dysentery, diarrhoea, and fevers, but there were no deaths among the crew. There were about two cases of dysentery to one of fever.

Toward midnight, on the twenty-eighth of July, as the moon was gently sinking behind the mountains which overlook the campong of Angier, a light land-breeze suddenly sprung up. Orders were immediately given to weigh anchor. The shrill whistle of the boatswain and his two mates, followed by their deep grum voices, calling all hands, “roused many a heavy sleeper, unwillingly from his hammock,” wishing the boatswain, and his call together, in Davy Jones’s locker. We were under way in a few minutes, in company with the Boxer, proceeding through the straits of Sunda, having once more launched into the Indian ocean. The lofty peak, of Crokatoa, the mountainous island of Tamarind, and the lesser islands of Thwart, the Way, the Button, and the Cap, with part of the coast of Sumatra, were distinctly visible. Before losing sight of Prince’s island, the wind came from the southward and eastward, accompanied with fine weather, which continued to waft us rapidly over the rolling billows to the westward, till the sixteenth of August, having run our westing down mostly between the latitude of 10° 11 to secure strong breezes; being then in latitude about 2° south and 52 east longitude, the wind veered to the southwest, but without any diminution of strength, or any alteration of the fine weather we had previously enjoyed. It continued until the evening of the twentieth, when we descried, first, the most easterly land on the continent of Africa, cape Orfui, otherwise called, by the Arabs, Ras Hafoon; then the mountains lying to the northward of this cape, called Gebel Jordafoon; and then cape Guardafui, or the cape of burials; the northeast extremity of Africa, and the southernmost cape of the gulf of Arabia. The land appeared like the outline of a well-defined cloud, high in the heavens. The next morning, we doubled close round this bold promontory, which was so formidable in ancient times to the timid Arabian mariner.

“The shrill spirit of the storm sat not dim upon the bluff brow,” “nor enjoyed the death of the mariner,” for the morning was bright, and fair, and joyous. The loud roaring of the sea shamed not the thunder, as it was wont to do, for it was almost unruffled. The tremendous sound of the mysterious bell, which was wont to be heard high above the loud surges of the ocean, warning the mariner of his fate, if he approached too boldly, was hushed; and the bodiless hand, which was seen to give it motion, had disappeared in the lapse of ages. We kept close to the northern shore, as far as MettÉ, or Burnt island, to take the benefit of a current setting to the westward.

Being so near the land, we suffered severely from the hot, suffocating air of this inhospitable region. Clothes were a burden, sleep fled from us, and the slightest exertion was painful. The whole aspect of the land was most dreary and most desolate. Mountains and plains of sand, only, were presented to our view, looking “like drifted gold in summer’s cloudless beam.” Not a tree, nor a shrub, nor scarcely a blade of grass, to relieve the eye of the extreme aridity of this vast wilderness. Here and there, at great intervals, were a few miserable huts, in a gully, formed by the washing away of the sand; and the great comfort derived from the “shadow of a high rock in a hot and dreary land,” would have been felt here as an inestimable blessing. Now and then, a naked and poverty-stricken fisherman was seen stealing along the shore, propelling, with his double-bladed paddle, a frail catamaran, made of two or three sticks of wood, sitting to his waist in water, having a rush sack to put his fish in, and liable to be made the prey of the voracious blue shark, which abounds in these waters. He was in search of what could not be found on the land, to wit, something edible; something to nourish his own frail body, or satisfy the cravings of a famishing wife, and a brood of naked, starving, helpless children.

We were a few days in accomplishing the short distance of two hundred and forty miles, from the cape to MettÉ, and then shaped our course for cape Aden in Arabia Felix, which we descried the following morning, presenting a bold, broken outline. We continued coasting along the shore till the twenty-ninth, when we spoke an East India company’s cruiser, the Nautilus, the same brig which the Peacock captured at the termination of the late war with Great Britain. She had under convoy four brigs from Mocha, bound to Surat. They were very much crowded with good mussulmans, from Mecca, who had been on a pilgrimage to the holy city, and were purified of all their sins, past, present, and to come, by the waters of the miraculous well of Zemzen, &c., and were now sure of admission into the sensual paradise of the prophet.

The triple and quadruple mountains of Yemen were distinctly visible, and the sandy coast was interrupted at intervals by high land, till we made the broken hill which forms the celebrated cape of Death, or cape of Tears, Babel Mandeb, better known to the world as Babel Mandel. The passage between this headland and the island of Perim, and Babel Mandeb, is less than a mile and a half wide according to the chart of Sir Home Popham. It is called by modern navigators the lesser Bab, or Gate.

Head winds and adverse currents obliged us to enter the Red sea through the great channel formed between Perim and the group of islands, called “Souamba,” or the Eight Brothers, lying on the Abyssinian shore. We therefore had on either hand Africa and Asia in full view, both equally steril and lofty in the interior. Although the distance is but forty miles to Mocha, from the straits, yet it occupied the remaining two days of the month to effect it, owing to contrary currents and winds. We anchored in five fathoms water, at the distance of two miles from the shore; immediately on anchoring, a lieutenant (Brent) was sent on shore to the dowlah or governor, to say that a salute of fifteen guns should be given, if an equal number were returned; this was promptly complied with. We found Mocha in possession of a Turkish rebel chieftain, Turkie ben al Mas by name, who it seems has held it for the last seven months; he was an officer in the service of Mehemet Ali the celebrated pacha of Egypt, and being discontented with his situation he thought it best to carve out for himself, with the assistance of his sword, a little good fortune, in the shape of a governor over a few cities; he collected together a number of followers, soldiers of fortune, who are always to be found in Egypt, as well as in Turkey and elsewhere, ready to draw the sword for those who will pay the best and make the largest promises. These troops consisted of Turks, Copts or Egyptians, Bedouin and other Arabs, and Abyssinians. It seems on his march from Grand Cairo, where the expedition was planned, he conquered the principal places, lying on the Arabian side of the Red sea; meeting with some opposition at Judda alias Djidda, the port of disembarkation for pilgrims going to the holy city of Mecca, it was plundered and many of the inhabitants were slain. Here he found seven large East India built ships, armed and equipped, belonging to his late master; of these, he took forcible possession, putting on board some troops, and ordering them to Mocha to co-operate with his army which proceeded by land. He marched on with about three thousand men, capturing on his way Hodeida, Loheia, &c., till he came to Zebid, better known as Waled Zebid: here he met with considerable opposition, but finally it was obliged to submit to the “strong arm.” Exasperated at the resistance made by the dowlah, he ordered him to be put to the most cruel death—such a one as could only enter into the imagination of a fiend of darkness. A copper cap was made, heated red hot, then fitted to his head, and his brains were literally fried out, he dying in the most excruciating tortures. This place (Mocha) capitulated after some slight skirmishing, on condition that the dowlah and the garrison should be suffered to depart unmolested, with their arms, accoutrements and baggage, to the interior; this was faithfully complied with as it regarded the troops; they were suffered to depart without molestation to the mountains of Yemen. The dowlah was promised every indulgence, and the conqueror apparently took a deep interest in his welfare. He was asked, with great seeming kindness, if he had a family, wives and children, in the interior, and if he did not wish to see them speedily. He answered in the affirmative, and expressed himself in very forcible and affectionate terms—such as may be supposed to emanate from a man of ardent temperament, and one whose feelings are centred in the bosom of his family. He was informed that all his fears should be speedily hushed, that he should depart for the mountains, and be allowed a body-guard for his protection. On the second night after their departure, as they drew near the first rise of mountains, and within sight of the hills which overlooked the home of his children, anticipating the delightful pleasure of once more beholding and embracing them, as he was resting on the ground and partaking an humble meal, he was most treacherously and cruelly shot, in two places, through the back, and there left to be a prey for the eagle and jackall of the mountains; while his poor and fatherless children were daily and hourly looking from their tent-doors into the valleys, wondering why he tarried so long, and complaining of his tardiness; but, alas, their eyes were never destined to behold him more.

By a particular invitation, we visited the conqueror. We landed at a stone-pier, and shortly passed through one of the city-gates. After winding through extremely narrow and crooked streets, which were as hot as the blast from a “baker’s oven,” we arrived at a building dignified with the name of “the palace,” fronting an open space of ground on one side, and on another, overlooking the harbour. There were, lounging about the grand entrance, a goodly number of his cut-throats, whose trade and pastime are blood, armed to the teeth, and ready for service. We were conducted through long dark passages, up a precipitous staircase, wide enough only for one person to advance at a time. Landing places were frequent, and heavy doors at each, so as to cut off all communication: wherever a soldier could be placed on the narrow landings or passages, either above or below, there was no space left empty. In passing through the entrance, up this narrow stairway, the scene of so much bloodshed at different times, we were strongly impressed with the idea, that the lumps of dirt and the spots on the walls, were the blood and brains of many a victim; and however erroneous the opinion might be, we imagined every thing about the palace smelt of blood, as though it were the shambles of wretched human beings.

We passed through the anteroom, filled with his body guard, and found him reclining on a raised settee, covered with Turkey carpets. Captain G. and myself were requested to take seats on each side of him—he placing himself in the corner of the settee, probably as a precautionary means against treachery. He was a stout, noble looking man, having a bushy black beard and mustaches; his aspect was by no means ferocious. He was rather plainly dressed, in dark striped silk, and wore the red cloth cap.

He treated us with great affability and kindness, expressed himself highly gratified at the sight of two American men-of-war, (being the first, as we understood, that had ever entered the port.) He offered every assistance in his power, and sent to the ship a present of some bullocks, sheep, and vegetables. Our conversation related principally to the difference in charges paid on English and American vessels. It seems the English vessels pay a duty of two and a quarter per cent., without any other charges, while the Americans pay three per cent. Anchorage money, which was one hundred and eighty, has been increased as high as three hundred and fifty dollars on the largest vessels, although it has been lessened lately to two hundred and fifty: the harbour-master, also, is paid twenty-three dollars: there are, besides, some smaller impositions. He promised to do all that lay in his power, to equalize the charges on English and American vessels; but said that the government was in a very unsettled state at present; that he had sent despatches to the sultan of Stamboul, alias, Constantinople, announcing the conquest of this and other places in his name, and that he was now awaiting his orders, &c.

The wide anteroom-doors being open, the guard was within a few feet of us, and heard all our conversation. They were principally Turks: some wore the turban, and others the red military cap. They were heavily armed about the waist, with two pair of horse-pistols, a cimeter, and perhaps with one or two daggers; the handles of all being fancifully inlaid with silver. Their complexions were generally of a light olive, with black eyes and long beards. Some were quite white, having small very light blue eyes. They were fine looking men, possessing stout muscular frames. The sleeves of many were tucked up to the shoulder, showing a very brawny arm. They stood in a respectful attitude, but not cringing, like a Siamese or Cochin-Chinese, in the presence of a superior. They were indolent in their appearance, yet the ferocity of the tiger lurked in their countenances. A sign or a nod; a word, or even a wink, was sufficient for these blood-hounds to lay us dead at their master’s feet. But such fears were far from us, or that the delicious coffee of Yemen, which we were sipping, was imbued with poison.

Part of his fine stud of Arabian horses were handsomely caparisoned and brought to the door, for us to ride through the town and into the suburbs, to see the extensive villages of the Arabs, Sommanlis, or Abyssinians. The village, occupied formerly by the Jews, was deserted; what had become of them, we could not learn. Two slaves were placed at the stirrup of each horse to accompany the party: for the most part of the way they kept pace with the riders. These villages are situated, generally, in the midst of extensive date-groves. The houses of the Sommanlis have neat conical roofs, made of date-leaves, or coarse rushes, and the sides are of the same material, or of mats. They have woolly hair mostly, extremely black skins, but prominent noses, limbs well formed, fine teeth, and rather pleasant countenances: they are as straight built as the young areca.

There is a strange fashion prevailing among the fops of this village; that of changing the colour of their wool to a light brown or yellow; but as the colouring of gray hair, among a more civilized people, is by no means uncommon, they are not, therefore, altogether singular. These fops had no other covering to boast of than a waist-cloth.

The lofty mountains of Yemen afford great relief to the inland prospect; but in the immediate vicinity of Mocha, there is only an extensive date-grove; elsewhere every thing is desolate and steril: the eye wanders in vain for an oasis, for some green spot, and sees only tufts of coarse brown grass, and a plain of sand. The town has a very neat and substantial appearance from the roadstead, presenting to the view a compact mass of white buildings, mosques, minarets, and castles, breaking only the uniformity of the scene. They are lofty, so as to catch every breeze which passes over the walls—are flat-roofed, and the inhabitants sleep on them in consequence of the excessive heat. They are protected, in part, against the baneful effects arising from heavy dews, and from the power of the moon, by a light leaf roof; are clumsily built, mostly of brick baked in the sun; and there is no appearance that a level was ever used. The floors are undulating, like the waves of the sea. Crooked, dark, and narrow passages, and steep staircases, with strong doors at every landing, ready to be barricaded in case of an insurrection, or an enemy making his appearance, are common in every house: in fact, every dwelling is a strong castle. On entering within the city walls, all idea of comfort instantly vanishes; dirty, intricate streets are every where lumbered with the rubbish from ruined buildings; turbaned heads, the red military cap, and loose floating garments, are seen at every step, all being heavily armed about the waist, “ready to do battle;” women, with closely veiled faces; porters, sweating most profusely, under heavy loads of luscious dates, oozing through the meshes of the slight mat covering; strings of camels, laden with coffee, &c., from Yemen, lying in the streets, munching their allotted portion of hard brown beans, or bearing about skins of water for sale; asses, without number, laden variously; small droves of miserable cattle, or rather frames set up ready for filling out, if sufficient encouragement should be given to effect it. Abyssinian sheep, covered with hair instead of wool, having broad tails, hanging nearly to the ground: they are mostly black-headed, affording delicious mutton: goats, every where, grown fat even upon the coarsest rushes, and the twigs and leaves of the common thorn. But the most distressing sight is that of the poor, blind, diseased, and lame beggars, which meet you every where, in the streets and in the bazars, at the mosque-doors and at the doors of the palace, in the suburbs and at the gates of the city, begging most earnestly for the smallest pittance, for even one or two commassÉes, (a small copper coin, being three hundred and eighty to the dollar,) or a few cowries. Some of them were mere walking skeletons; their frames being covered with shrivelled brown parchment, stretched over what resembled bunches of dried catgut, being the muscular parts of the body. They had deep sunken cheeks, hollow to the bones, and sharp noses; the nostrils being so nipped in as to present only the mark of an orifice, like an old closed and deep-cut wound, badly united: not a particle of flesh was on their legs, arms, or their collapsed bodies. Some could walk, but how it was effected, in their extremely emaciated condition, was a mystery of wonder; the slightest breath of wind would almost overpower them; and I was, several times, upon the eve of holding out my hands to save these shadows from being dashed to the ground. Death stared them in the face, and only suffered them to remain in misery a few moments longer, that they might complete, perhaps, their allotted task of penance, for the vile deeds done in the body.

We passed through extensive covered bazars, which appeared to be well supplied with goods. The size of some of the shops, or rather closets, was extremely small, the vender sitting with his legs under him, having every thing within reach of his hands. There was but little fruit and vegetables for sale, but fish and fowls, goats, sheep, and bullocks, in abundance; plenty of dates; some highly-flavoured, but extremely small oblong grapes; raisins, without seed; and ordinary pomegranates. Occasionally, there may be had water-melons, sweet potatoes, onions, a superior kind of sorrel, and some long gourds.

About the coffee-houses, (or rather sheds,) were seen, in groups, soldiers, smoking their chebouks, and sipping their small cups (resembling egg-cups) of coffee, made from the husk of the berry, without the addition of sugar or milk. They were generally reclining on rough-made settees, covered with the strong leaf of the date-palm. They were of all shades, from the deep black to the brown Bedouin, and to the unadulterated white from Georgia and the Caucasian mountains. They were, with scarcely an exception, men of noble features: their dresses were as various as the nations they came from. They pay only three or four commassÉes for their refreshments. This small coin, and cowries, are the only currency used in the bazars for small transactions; but Spanish dollars and German crowns are almost wholly used in larger ones; and Persian rupees, and those of Bombay and Surat, and foreign gold, are no strangers. During the time I was examining this motley group of strange beings, the hour of evening prayer drew nigh. As the sun disappeared behind the mountains of Abyssinia, a loud cry was heard—“Hark!” cried many voices:—

Each one then spread his garment, or a mat, upon the ground, and instantly the assembled multitude of Mussulmans were on their knees, facing to the north towards Mecca, and praying to Allah with low prostrations, and every outward demonstration of intense devotion. It was a pleasing sight even to a “Giaour,” to one who never doubted the founder of their religion was not the “true prophet;” but still, it must be acknowledged, he was of infinite service in turning millions from gross idolatry, to the worship of “one true and ever-living God.”

The export of coffee from this place, annually, is about eight thousand bales, of three hundred and five pounds each; and the price, at present, is said to be from twenty-nine to thirty-two dollars per bale; but we paid at the rate of thirty-six dollars for some bales of the very first quality. A small part of this goes to the Persian gulf, to Surat, and Bombay, probably making, altogether, one half; the remainder is taken by the Americans. From the other ports in the Red sea, as high up as Djedda, (Judda,) it is carried to El Coseir, or Kooseir, Suez, &c.; and so on to Egypt, Turkey, &c. Gum Arabic, myrrh, frankincense, dates, and a few smaller articles, may be added to the list of exports. The difficulty of egress, during the northeast monsoon, the wind and current adverse and very strong, which commences about the latter part of September, is a great obstacle in trading to this port. If it was possible to direct the trade to Aden, situated a hundred miles to the eastward of cape Babel Mandeb, which is furnished with two good harbours, this very serious obstacle would be obviated. In no part of the world have I seen fish in greater abundance; they go in immense shoals, and appear, to an inexperienced eye, like low breakers over spits of sand, or a barred harbour. Birds are, in great numbers, hovering over them, waiting with impatience for their portion of food. Rock-weed is seen floating down the Red sea in great quantities. The only boat used for fishing, is the catamaran, similar to those already described. The stationary number of inhabitants in the city, is said not to exceed five thousand; but, at present, there are probably about ten thousand, in addition, including the soldiers, women and children, and other followers of the army. In the environs of the city, are seen thousands of miserable beings, lying on mats or on the sand, having a slight tent made of the date-leaf, a mat or two, or some rags tacked together, possessing little or no covering for the body, and apparently scarcely any thing on which to feed it, to prevent the immortal part from deserting the mortal.

I observed, in several houses, the “transparent stone,” which is placed over the tops of the latticed windows; there was as much light shed through it as through ground glass.

The colour of the Red sea has long given occasion to a variety of conjectures and speculations. Doctor Ehrenberg discovered that it was owing to small animalcules, which he names, “oscillatoria,” which hold a rank midway between plants and animals. This colour may hold good, as it regards the more northern part of the sea, but at Mocha it is of a light sea-green.