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.

All was now decidedly Turkish. The peasants were of a different physiognomy, as well as dress; and one marked peculiarity 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 Wadi-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

the antiquity of these remains was a large stone sarcophagus, still perfect, and occupying apparently its original place above ground. Its sides were sculptured with festoons and wreaths, in the usual way; and its cover, which was pent-roofed and raised at the corners after the Roman manner, still continued to close it so perfectly, that it was doubtful whether it had ever been opened.

Violent and successive peals of thunder, lightning, and hail, kept us in these caves full three hours, so that it was sunset before the storm was sufficiently abated for us to venture out. We then made our way toward a cluster of two or three cottages on the hill, while some determined to remain in the caves all night. We reached the object of our search with some difficulty, and were hospitably received by the Turkish peasants there, furnished with an excellent supper, a mattrass, pillow and coverlid, quite as good as at the Aga's on the night before.

We observed here a material improvement in the construction of the peasants' dwellings, and in their interior arrangement. We had a chimney for the fire, as in England, and small windows to carry off the superfluous smoke. The wife of the Turkish peasant was fair and pretty, yet she went entirely unveiled; the cooking utensils and dishes were all of metal, and numerous; every one slept on a bed with a coverlid; the children were clean and decently dressed; the men were also of a more respectable appearance than usual; and all announced our being among a people more attentive to their comforts, at least, than those we had left.

way.

Friday, May 10.-Our party all assembling in the plain of Lulakjee below, we joined them at sunrise, and proceeded on our We kept now a course of N.N.W. to come out upon the sea-shore; and after passing through a succession of narrow and wooded valleys, we came on a broad road, with a paved causeway, probably an ancient work. This brought us, in half an hour after our setting out, to the village of Karakujee, which contains about fifty good stone dwellings. It is inhabited solely by Turkish