their features were peculiar to themselves, and neither Turkish nor Arabian; their complexions often rosy, and their hair light; such of the women as we saw were in general very ugly, and unveiled.

In half an hour from hence we crossed a small stream by a little bridge, called Moyat-el-Kanjara, from a village of that name above, and saw there several small turtles. As this was distant from two to three miles from the sea, while the water was almost stagnant here, and the bed of the stream dry in many places, it is not likely that they came up from the coast; they were furnished with fins, and not feet, as in the land tortoise, and were generally about a foot in length. We met near to this a small caravan of mules from Antāky, in which were Turcoman soldiers; the dress and features of the people approached gradually to that of the Turks in Asia Minor; and we were now saluted in Turkish, and not in Arabic, as we passed.

In half an hour we crossed another small stream, called Moyatel-Kersanah, with a village of that name on our right close to the road; and on the left, farther off, one called Mukautry. In another hour and half we reached a clear torrent, called Nahr-el-Arab, in a small valley, where all the party halted to refresh, while the animals grazed on its banks.

We quitted this spot about an hour after noon. Hitherto we had passed through a cultivated land, but now our track lay over a ridge of limestone hillocks, covered with box, myrtle, and other wild shrubs in profusion. Our course was still about N.N.E. over this, which brought us in about an hour to a fine little valley and plain, called Wādi Kandeel, through the midst of which flows a clear and swift stream bearing the same name. We here saw the sea again, and crossed the stream within less than a mile of its edge.

After about an hour's ride across this plain, having many spots of corn land on both sides of our way, we came into the narrower part of the valley. In this, we crossed the serpentine windings of a stream upwards of twenty times, still following

up its general line of direction towards the source. The pebbles of its bed were a hard, close-grained, and heavy grey stone, speckled with white and black, and having the appearance of a fine granite; I preserved some fresh fractured specimens of it. The hills on each side of our way were of limestone, and their soil white and dry. They were steep, and sometimes inaccessible, except to goats; yet they were well clothed with a profusion of wild shrubs, and fine trees growing out of their nearly perpendicular sides, as well as on their summits. There were here also in this narrow valley some fine corn-fields, with enclosures of wicker hedge. From its being well watered, the verdure was every where luxuriant. Some large oaks were already well clothed with their new foliage, and the spring was in its richest dress. The fresh odour sent forth by the productions of the vegetable world which nature had assembled here was also delightful; and all, in short, contributed to render our journey most agreeable.

After half an hour's halt by the stream, we ascended a steep hill, covered with pines and other trees, and in about an hour opened from its summit a deep valley to the northward of it, called El Bujak. No combination of forms and colours could be more romantically picturesque than this secluded spot. We had mountain, valley, hill, and dale, with rugged rocks and fertile plains, and all the shades between the richest cultivation and the wildest forest scenery, concentred in one little spot; to complete the beauty of which, a piece of the blue sea was seen through the space left by the sloping brows of two approaching hills, its level line marking the boundary of the western horizon. There were in this enchanting vale a number of scattered hamlets, consisting of three or four cottages each, and many cattle, horses, goats, and sheep. Agriculture seemed to be performed with unusual neatness and care, and it was here for the first time that I met with barred gates, as used in England, having never seen them before in any part of the Turkish Empire.

It was about half an hour before sun-set when we reached the small hamlet of Kasla Joak, where we alighted at the residence of the Aga or chief of the district, and were hospitably received.

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All was now decidedly Turkish. The peasants were of a different physiognomy, as well as dress; and one marked liarity of contrast was, their wearing long boots reaching to the knees, of black leather, and shaped like European, ones, without drawers; while the Arabs of Syria all wear long full drawers, and either red shoes, or, as often happens, go barefoot. The Aga himself could just express his wants in Arabic; and as I understood scarcely a word of Turkish, my conversation with him was through the medium of one of our party as an interpreter. He appeared very devout, having a long string of beads, in numbering which he muttered certain prayers, but in the midst of these he would often break off to converse and laugh, and then resume the thread of his devotions again.

As an Englishman, I was placed on his divan, beside himself, while the rest of the passengers of our caravan being Moslems, mostly stood or sat at a respectful distance. This distinction I owed chiefly to the impression which the liberal conduct of Lady Hester Stanhope, and Mr. Barker, towards the people of the country, had made in favour of our nation. They had both been in this neighbourhood, were personally known to the Aga, and were spoken of by all with admiration.

We partook of an excellent supper, and on retiring to rest I was furnished with a good mattrass and pillow, a pair of clean sheets, and a new cotton quilted coverlid; an attention to my comfort, for which I had it not really in my power to make an adequate return, and all this was done too in the kindest possible manner, without the least profession or affectation of parade.

Thursday, May 9.-Our caravan prepared early for departure. The Aga pressed me strongly to remain a few days with him to enjoy the scenery which I so much admired, promising to send an

escort with me to Aleppo whenever I might desire; but compliance would have required a greater sacrifice of time and expence than I was at liberty to make. I felt, therefore, the necessity of persisting in my refusal, so much so, as to leave an impression of rudeness or of insensibility to hospitable treatment, on the mind of my entertainer. I had been often before thus painfully situated, and could only regret, as then, that I was not sufficiently the master of my own time, my purse, or even my inclination, to make either myself or others so happy as I could wish.

On leaving Kasla Joak, we ascended the summit of the hill above it, and travelled for about three hours in a thick forest of pines, alternately ascending and descending over rugged roads, and often obliged to make wide circuits, from the way being obstructed by large fallen trees recently felled by the woodmen. This brought us to a beautiful little circular plain of grass land, called Merj-elKazhoak, where some Turcoman shepherds were feeding their flocks. In the woods we saw several detached huts of these people, formed of reeds, having conical roofs, with the usual kitchen implements, and the fire in an open space on the outside. The huts were guarded by large shaggy dogs, and only the women and children were seen within the dwellings. In half an hour from this plain, still through thick woods of pine, and of another tree, called in Arabic, Sedjer-el-Azzer, we crossed a small bridge, called Jisser-el-Mahāmany, under which runs a stream of the same name, which, after a winding course, goes into the Nahr-el-Kebeer, south of Ladikea. This stream forms the boundary between the government of Aleppo, and that of Acre, under their respective pashas; north of this, even on the sea-coast, all is subject to the latter, as far as Karamania. In an hour from the bridge we entered another cultivated valley, called Wādi-el-Kussub; corn, grass, and herbage generally, was more abundant here, and we drank at the clear stream of Nahr-el-Mahāmany, which ran through it; but the hills became less profusely wooded, and above us to the N. N.W. was the high peak of Jebel Okrah, or the bare mountain, well deserving that

name, in contrast to the richly clothed summits of the hills that surround its feet.

From hence we passed over a small ridge of hills, and soon entered another cultivated valley, called Wadi-el-Erjey. We now went on the east side of Jebel Okrah, and continued our course almost due north, leaving behind us a fountain called Ain-elHaramy, from the traditional report of this having been anciently a haunt of robbers; and, indeed, two men had been lately murdered there.

On the east of this Wadi-el-Erjey was pointed out to us the town of Eurdy, containing about 300 dwellings, and inhabited solely by Turks, about three-fourths Moslems and one-fourth Christians. Streams and springs of excellent water are here abundant, and we drank at two in the way, one of which was called Ain-el-Ajoon, issuing like a body of crystal out of the living rock.

The preceding day had been calm and sultry, and the sun overcast. During the night it had blown a gale from the eastward, and this morning we had cloudy weather, a S.W. wind, and some flying showers. About noon, however, it began to pour down torrents of steady rain, insomuch that our caravan thought only of a place of shelter. We were exposed to it for fully three hours before we reached the valley and plain of Lulakjee, at the foot of which were some caves, into which we entered, leaving our beasts without. This place must have been the site of some Roman settlement; for, besides the caves, which might have been either sepulchral, or troglodytal, there are vestiges of a very large building now completely ruined. Its scattered blocks of hewn stones occupy a considerable space, being grown over with trees, and among them are seen portions of pillars and reversed sarcophagi. We saw, too, the portion of a building yet standing, rearing its head amidst the thickets in which it was enveloped; and some of our party who knew the spot, called it the ruined church, but there was no stirring to examine it. The most decided feature of