It was a raw cold night; and we were off long before day, traversing a region as dreary and desolate as can be imagined. About ten o’clock we came to the village just noticed; and then again pursued our course over hill and along dale, with not even a butterfly or grasshopper to cheer our course. A large fountain by and by, and a little herbage near it, offered some variety; and not long after this we caught sight of an oasis some miles on our left--a little valley of the most intense green, with trees of majestic form, mingled with the tapering poplar and cypress, all imbedded among hills of a red and yellow color, and of unbroken sterility. The ground before us now began to ascend, stretching off into elevated plains; and as we advanced, a traveller was now and then met, or seen at a distance crossing the country. These signs multiplying, it was evident that we were approaching Damascus. We gained, at length, the summit of a long sloping plain terminated by a bluff;--and there--there was the city. And it was a scene strikingly oriental and truly magnificent. We had hit upon the very best way by which Damascus can be approached, for its gardens, though far down, were right under our feet. A sea of intense verdure breaking all at once upon the arid desert; a great city bursting suddenly from amid the completest solitude; and beyond it a plain stretching off--far off--till the eye could follow it no longer;--this was what we saw as we stood upon those heights. I believe the plain of Damascus reaches to the Euphrates, and proceeds on with that river; and if so, it must be 500 miles or more in length, and as far as we could see, it is a smooth level, without hillock or break of any kind. On the eastward, at a great distance, and forming a dim speck on the horizon, were some inequalities like mountains; but to the southward the plain was as smooth as the ocean in a calm, and apparently as boundless.