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:-- “Hark, from the mosque, the nightly solemn sound, The Muezzin’s call doth shake the minaret; ‘There is no God but God: to prayer--lo! God is great.’” 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.” [Sidenote: EXPORTS FROM MOCHA.]