peaceful in the rosy sunshine:  green islands dip here and there in
   its waters:  purple mountains swell circling round it; and towards
   them, rising from the bay, stretches a rich green plain, fruitful
   with herbs and various foliage, in the midst of which the white
   houses twinkle.  I can see a little minaret, and some spreading
   palm-trees; but, beyond these, the description would answer as well
   for Bantry Bay as for Makri.  You could write so far, nay, much
   more particularly and grandly, without seeing the place at all, and
   after reading Beaufort's "Caramania," which gives you not the least
   notion of it.
   Suppose the great Hydrographer of the Admiralty himself can't
   describe it, who surveyed the place; suppose Mr. Fellowes, who
   discovered it afterwards--suppose, I say, Sir John Fellowes, Knt.,
   can't do it (and I defy any man of imagination to got an impression
   of Telmessus from his book)--can you, vain man, hope to try?  The
   effect of the artist, as I take it, ought to be, to produce upon
   his hearer's mind, by his art, an effect something similar to that
   produced on his own by the sight of the natural object.  Only
   music, or the best poetry, can do this.  Keats's "Ode to the
   Grecian Urn" is the best description I know of that sweet old
   silent ruin of Telmessus.  After you have once seen it, the
   remembrance remains with you, like a tune from Mozart, which he
   seems to have caught out of heaven, and which rings sweet harmony
   in your ears for ever after!  It's a benefit for all after life!
   You have but to shut your eyes, and think, and recall it, and the
   delightful vision comes smiling back, to your order!--the divine
   air--the delicious little pageant, which nature set before you on
   this lucky day.
   Here is the entry made in the note-book on the eventful day:- "In
   the morning steamed into the bay of Glaucus--landed at Makri--
   cheerful old desolate village--theatre by the beautiful sea-shore--
   great fertility, oleanders--a palm-tree in the midst of the
   village, spreading out like a Sultan's aigrette--sculptured
   caverns, or tombs, up the mountain--camels over the bridge."
   Perhaps it is best for a man of fancy to make his own landscape out
   of these materials:  to group the couched camels under the plane-
   trees; the little crowd of wandering ragged heathens come down to
   the calm water, to behold the nearing steamer; to fancy a mountain,
   in the sides of which some scores of tombs are rudely carved;
   pillars and porticos, and Doric entablatures.  But it is of the
   little theatre that he must make the most beautiful picture--a
   charming little place of festival, lying out on the shore, and
   looking over the sweet bay and the swelling purple islands.  No
   theatre-goer ever looked out on a fairer scene.  It encourages
   poetry, idleness, delicious sensual reverie.  O Jones! friend of my
   heart! would you not like to be a white-robed Greek, lolling
   languidly, on the cool benches here, and pouring compliments (in
   the Ionic dialect) into the rosy ears of Neaera?  Instead of Jones,
   your name should be Ionides; instead of a silk hat, you should wear
   a chaplet of roses in your hair:  you would not listen to the
   choruses they were singing on the stage, for the voice of the fair
   one would be whispering a rendezvous for the mesonuktiais horais,
   and my Ionides would have no ear for aught beside.  Yonder, in the
   mountain, they would carve a Doric cave temple, to receive your urn
   when all was done; and you would be accompanied thither by a dirge
   of the surviving Ionidae.  The caves of the dead are empty now,
   however, and their place knows them not any more among the festal
   haunts of the living.  But, by way of supplying the choric melodies
   sung here in old time, one of our companions mounted on the scene
   and spouted,
   "My name is Norval."
   On the same day we lay to for a while at another ruined theatre,
   that of Antiphilos.  The Oxford men, fresh with recollections of
   the little-go, bounded away up the hill on which it lies to the
   ruin, measured the steps of the theatre, and calculated the width
   of the scene; while others, less active, watched them with
   telescopes from the ship's sides, as they plunged in and out of the
   stones and hollows.
   Two days after the scene was quite changed.  We were out of sight
   of the classical country, and lay in St. George's Bay, behind a
   huge mountain, upon which St. George fought the dragon, and rescued
   the lovely Lady Sabra, the King of Babylon's daughter.  The Turkish
   fleet was lying about us, commanded by that Halil Pasha whose two
   children the two last Sultans murdered.  The crimson flag, with the
   star and crescent, floated at the stern of his ship.  Our
   diplomatist put on his uniform and cordons, and paid his Excellency
   a visit.  He spoke in rapture, when he returned, of the beauty and
   order of the ship, and the urbanity of the infidel Admiral.  He
   sent us bottles of ancient Cyprus wine to drink:  and the captain
   of Her Majesty's ship "Trump," alongside which we were lying,
   confirmed that good opinion of the Capitan Pasha which the
   reception of the above present led us to entertain, by relating
   many instances of his friendliness and hospitalities.  Captain G-
   said the Turkish ships were as well manned, as well kept, and as
   well manoeuvred, as any vessels in any service; and intimated a
   desire to command a Turkish seventy-four, and a perfect willingness
   to fight her against a French ship of the same size.  But I
   heartily trust he will neither embrace the Mahometan opinions, nor
   be called upon to engage any seventy-four whatever.  If he do, let
   us hope he will have his own men to fight with.  If the crew of the
   "Trump" were all like the crew of the captain's boat, they need
   fear no two hundred and fifty men out of any country, with any
   Joinville at their head.  We were carried on shore by this boat.
   For two years, during which the "Trump" had been lying off Beyrout,
   none of the men but these eight had ever set foot on shore.
   Mustn't it be a happy life?  We were landed at the busy quay of
   Beyrout, flanked by the castle that the fighting old commodore half
   battered down.
   Along the Beyrout quays civilisation flourishes under the flags of
   the consuls, which are streaming out over the yellow buildings in
   the clear air.  Hither she brings from England her produce of
   marine-stores and woollens, her crockeries, her portable soups, and
   her bitter ale.  Hither she has brought politeness, and the last
   modes from Paris.  They were exhibited in the person of a pretty
   lady, superintending the great French store, and who, seeing a
   stranger sketching on the quay, sent forward a man with a chair to
   accommodate that artist, and greeted him with a bow and a smile,
   such as only can be found in France.  Then she fell to talking with
   a young French officer with a beard, who was greatly smitten with
   her.  They were making love just as they do on the Boulevard.  An
   Arab porter left his bales, and the camel h 
					     					 			e was unloading, to come
   and look at the sketch.  Two stumpy flat-faced Turkish soldiers, in
   red caps and white undresses, peered over the paper.  A noble
   little Lebanonian girl, with a deep yellow face, and curly dun-
   coloured hair, and a blue tattooed chin, and for all clothing a
   little ragged shift of blue cloth, stood by like a little statue,
   holding her urn, and stared with wondering brown eyes.  How
   magnificently blue the water was!--how bright the flags and
   buildings as they shone above it, and the lines of the rigging
   tossing in the bay!  The white crests of the blue waves jumped and
   sparkled like quicksilver; the shadows were as broad and cool as
   the lights were brilliant and rosy; the battered old towers of the
   commodore looked quite cheerful in the delicious atmosphere; and
   the mountains beyond were of an amethyst colour.  The French
   officer and the lady went on chattering quite happily about love,
   the last new bonnet, or the battle of Isly, or the "Juif Errant."
   How neatly her gown and sleeves fitted her pretty little person!
   We had not seen a woman for a month, except honest Mrs. Flanigan,
   the stewardess, and the ladies of our party, and the tips of the
   noses of the Constantinople beauties as they passed by leering from
   their yakmacs, waddling and plapping in their odious yellow
   papooshes.
   And this day is to be marked with a second white stone, for having
   given the lucky writer of the present, occasion to behold a second
   beauty.  This was a native Syrian damsel, who bore the sweet name
   of Mariam.  So it was she stood as two of us (I mention the number
   for fear of scandal) took her picture.
   So it was that the good-natured black cook looked behind her young
   mistress, with a benevolent grin, that only the admirable Leslie
   could paint.
   Mariam was the sister of the young guide whom we hired to show us
   through the town, and to let us be cheated in the purchase of gilt
   scarfs and handkerchiefs, which strangers think proper to buy.  And
   before the following authentic drawing could be made, many were the
   stratagems the wily artists were obliged to employ, to subdue the
   shyness of the little Mariam.  In the first place, she would stand
   behind the door (from which in the darkness her beautiful black
   eyes gleamed out like penny tapers); nor could the entreaties of
   her brother and mamma bring her from that hiding-place.  In order
   to conciliate the latter, we began by making a picture of her too--
   that is, not of her, who was an enormous old fat woman in yellow,
   quivering all over with strings of pearls, and necklaces of
   sequins, and other ornaments, the which descended from her neck,
   and down her ample stomacher:  we did not depict that big old
   woman, who would have been frightened at an accurate representation
   of her own enormity; but an ideal being, all grace and beauty,
   dressed in her costume, and still simpering before me in my sketch-
   book like a lady in a book of fashions.
   This portrait was shown to the old woman, who handed it over to the
   black cook, who, grinning, carried it to little Mariam--and the
   result was, that the young creature stepped forward, and submitted;
   and has come over to Europe as you see. {2}
   A very snug and happy family did this of Mariam's appear to be.  If
   you could judge by all the laughter and giggling, by the splendour
   of the women's attire, by the neatness of the little house,
   prettily decorated with arabesque paintings, neat mats, and gay
   carpets, they were a family well to do in the Beyrout world, and
   lived with as much comfort as any Europeans.  They had one book;
   and, on the wall of the principal apartment, a black picture of the
   Virgin, whose name is borne by pretty Mariam.
   The camels and the soldiers, the bazaars and khans, the fountains
   and awnings, which chequer, with such delightful variety of light
   and shade, the alleys and markets of an Oriental town, are to be
   seen in Beyrout in perfection; and an artist might here employ
   himself for months with advantage and pleasure.  A new costume was
   here added to the motley and picturesque assembly of dresses.  This
   was the dress of the blue-veiled women from the Lebanon, stalking
   solemnly through the markets, with huge horns, near a yard high, on
   their foreheads.  For thousands of years, since the time the Hebrew
   prophets wrote, these horns have so been exalted in the Lebanon.
   At night Captain Lewis gave a splendid ball and supper to the
   "Trump."  We had the "Trump's" band to perform the music; and a
   grand sight it was to see the captain himself enthusiastically
   leading on the drum.  Blue lights and rockets were burned from the
   yards of our ship; which festive signals were answered presently
   from the "Trump," and from another English vessel in the harbour.
   They must have struck the Capitan Pasha with wonder, for he sent
   his secretary on board of us to inquire what the fireworks meant.
   And the worthy Turk had scarcely put his foot on the deck, when he
   found himself seized round the waist by one of the "Trump's"
   officers, and whirling round the deck in a waltz, to his own
   amazement, and the huge delight of the company.  His face of wonder
   and gravity, as he went on twirling, could not have been exceeded
   by that of a dancing dervish at Scutari; and the manner in which he
   managed to enjamber the waltz excited universal applause.
   I forgot whether he accommodated himself to European ways so much
   further as to drink champagne at supper-time; to say that he did
   would be telling tales out of school, and might interfere with the
   future advancement of that jolly dancing Turk.
   We made acquaintance with another of the Sultan's subjects, who, I
   fear, will have occasion to doubt of the honour of the English
   nation, after the foul treachery with which he was treated.
   Among the occupiers of the little bazaar matchboxes, vendors of
   embroidered handkerchiefs and other articles of showy Eastern
   haberdashery, was a good-looking neat young fellow, who spoke
   English very fluently, and was particularly attentive to all the
   passengers on board our ship.  This gentleman was not only a
   pocket-handkerchief merchant in the bazaar, but earned a further
   livelihood by letting out mules and donkeys; and he kept a small
   lodging-house, or inn, for travellers, as we were informed.
   No wonder he spoke good English, and was exceedingly polite and
   well-bred; for the worthy man had passed some time in England, and
   in the best society too.  That humble haberdasher at Beyrout had
   been a lion here, at the very best houses of the great people, and
   had actually made his appearance at Windsor, where he was received
   as a Syrian Prince, and treated with great hospitality by Royalty
   itself.
   I don't know what waggish propensity moved one of the officers of
   the "Trump" to say that there was an equerry of His Royal Highness
   the Prince on board, and to point me out as the dignified personage
   in question.  So the Syrian Prince was introduced to the R 
					     					 			oyal
   equerry, and a great many compliments passed between us.  I even
   had the audacity to state that on my very last interview with my
   Royal master, His Royal Highness had said, "Colonel Titmarsh, when
   you go to Beyrout, you will make special inquiries regarding my
   interesting friend Cogia Hassan."
   Poor Cogia Hassan (I forget whether that was his name, but it is as
   good as another) was overpowered with this Royal message; and we
   had an intimate conversation together, at which the waggish officer
   of the "Trump" assisted with the greatest glee.
   But see the consequences of deceit!  The next day, as we were
   getting under way, who should come on board but my friend the
   Syrian Prince, most eager for a last interview with the Windsor
   equerry; and he begged me to carry his protestations of unalterable
   fidelity to the gracious consort of Her Majesty.  Nor was this all.
   Cogia Hassan actually produced a great box of sweetmeats, of which
   he begged my Excellency to accept, and a little figure of a doll
   dressed in the costume of Lebanon.  Then the punishment of
   imposture began to be felt severely by me.  How to accept the poor
   devil's sweetmeats?  How to refuse them?  And as we know that one
   fib leads to another, so I was obliged to support the first
   falsehood by another; and putting on a dignified air--"Cogia
   Hassan," says I, "I am surprised you don't know the habits of the
   British Court better, and are not aware that our gracious master
   solemnly forbids his servants to accept any sort of backsheesh upon
   our travels."
   So Prince Cogia Hassan went over the side with his chest of
   sweetmeats, but insisted on leaving the doll, which may be worth
   twopence-halfpenny; of which, and of the costume of the women of
   Lebanon, the following is an accurate likeness:-
   CHAPTER XI:  A DAY AND NIGHT IN SYRIA
   When, after being for five whole weeks at sea, with a general
   belief that at the end of a few days the marine malady leaves you
   for good, you find that a brisk wind and a heavy rolling swell
   create exactly the same inward effects which they occasioned at the
   very commencement of the voyage--you begin to fancy that you are
   unfairly dealt with:  and I, for my part, had thought of
   complaining to the Company of this atrocious violation of the rules
   of their prospectus; but we were perpetually coming to anchor in
   various ports, at which intervals of peace and good-humour were
   restored to us.
   On the 3rd of October our cable rushed with a huge rattle into the
   blue sea before Jaffa, at a distance of considerably more than a
   mile off the town, which lay before us very clear, with the flags
   of the consuls flaring in the bright sky and making a cheerful and
   hospitable show.  The houses a great heap of sun-baked stones,
   surmounted here and there by minarets and countless little
   whitewashed domes; a few date-trees spread out their fan-like heads
   over these dull-looking buildings; long sands stretched away on
   either side, with low purple hills behind them; we could see specks
   of camels crawling over these yellow plains; and those persons who
   were about to land had the leisure to behold the sea-spray flashing
   over the sands, and over a heap of black rocks which lie before the
   entry to the town.  The swell is very great, the passage between
   the rocks narrow, and the danger sometimes considerable.  So the
   guide began to entertain the ladies and other passengers in the
   huge country boat which brought us from the steamer with an
   agreeable story of a lieutenant and eight seamen of one of Her
   Majesty's ships, who were upset, dashed to pieces, and drowned upon
   these rocks, through which two men and two boys, with a very
   moderate portion of clothing, each standing and pulling half an
   oar--there were but two oars between them, and another by way of
   rudder--were endeavouring to guide us.
   When the danger of the rocks and surf was passed, came another
   danger of the hideous brutes in brown skins and the briefest