up out of the earth (all built of course of emeralds and rubies and saphires). When I had my hand ready so as to doff my cap when the beautiful princess who was a captive therein, should step forth and beseech of me in plaintive melody to come and dwell in rapturous bliss with her, alas, grinning like any monkey or byæna, there would present herself a prodigiously black and ugly slave girl, encased in a long white robe with legs that might have been turned ebony spindles, only exceedingly scratched and defaced. And the castle would dwindle away into her masters ruinous and rickety old house hard by, where sat cross legged a very blind and ragged old man, always smoking in a yard full of half starved hens and skeleton donkeys. But perchance under the influence of military ardour (and at the serious risk of fever) I would go forth to the very stream where the Great Alexander flushed with victory, paused to bathe, and in its delightful and invigorating coolness seated up to my chin, would let fancy go a wool gathering; when I have nearly realised the scene; there rise the countless hordes of warriors; there sits the brave chief himself, those are the captains. Alas, they are two horrible realities, two drunken Arnouts seated almost upon the tails of a couple of donkeys; which they have stolen from some unlucky peasant (and which they intend to force some unhappy coffee shop keeper to buy of them) roaring out bacchanalian songs and looking the least martial beings that fancy can picture; despite their lace and finery and their being armed almost to the teeth. And around the city walls if I take a stroll there, I meet only a modern Golgotha -a place of skulls and skeletons-skeletons of horses, and sheep, and cows, and oxen, and camels, and mules, and every sort of four footed beasts; and the air is not scented here as it was in the orange grove. For there has been a murrain in the land, greatly to the benefit of the street dogs, and the jackalls, and the vultures; and when these have feasted their full, there is yet enough left, when the great heat of summer sets in to fling the plague over the city walls and into the city itself.

-

At length the longed for day and hour arrived and we vaulted into our saddles nothing loathe, a considerable and a merry cavalcade bent upon

Turning to mirth

All things of earth.

and as mercantile charter parties express it, well "provisioned and equipped" for the journey in question. Conspicuous amongst the loads carried by the baggage mules were sundry three cornered tin boxes containing the magnificent cocked hats and feathers of the Signori Consoli and stretching across these what was to bring comfort and bliss to the old Greek bishops heart, with the afore alluded to silver headed official staff, the insignia of dignity and power. A grotesquely clad and yet a picturesque cavalcade must ours have constituted, for we all travelled well prepared for sport en route and accompanied by some noble looking greyhounds.

Here and there what served to bring to mind legends of old Baronial days, there curvetted and pran dia stately Arab steed whose cavalier carried

upon his well gloved hand a hood-winked falcon, well reared and accustomed to the chase.

Few parts in Asia Minor or Palestine present a more delightful field for the lover of coursing and horse exercise than the noble plains which stretch between Tarsous and Adana and which present to the eye, at all seasons of the year, one vast emerald carpet, rendered more beautiful than pen can describe during early spring, bespangled as they are with myriads of gaudily coloured tiny flowers, which sparkle and glitter like gems in the sunshine. As we rode along now at an easy pace, now cantering, now tearing over the earth at full speed; ever and anon we came upon a scene exclusively Turkish in its character. This was a vast encampment of Arab grooms guarding some hundreds of valuable Arab steeds, the property of the Turkish Beys and Effendis both of Tarsous and of Adana; which are tethered out in these plains during three months in the year free from all controul, save the long rope that keeps them to consecutive spots where the grass is most esculent, and exposed without shelter to night dews and every variation of weather. But the climate in these parts can be pretty well counted upon and these horses thrive. A pretty hullaballoo we created now and then whilst galloping close by these stations. What rearing, plunging, neighing, oaths, expostulation and what blessings we carried forward with us from those grinning African grooms, who might count upon a twelve hours hard chase before they could hope to recapture horses that had broken adrift. Now and then too we came upon much cattle, sheep, and oxen, and cows, feeding peacefully upon the meadow, and then we got up an extemporaneous "cows regatta," for what with the galloping of horses and baying of dogs, much and sudden trouble would fall upon these quadrupeds, and the sheep would go tearing away in one direction with great tinkling of bells, and the cows and the oxen, tail on end, would charge in an opposite direction; leaving the drowsy Tityrus, pipe in hand (not musical but baccy), the personification of utmost surprise

and alarm.

But better fun than all this was the occasional overtaking of a convoy of burthenless donkeys bound from some Turcuman encampment homewards to one of the numerous villages scattered over these plains. Donkeys driven before a greybearded old Turk, who bestrode a mule of wicked propensities; which mule in common with the donkeys, had not dined as yet and was most anxious to reach its journeys end. Wherefore, as we tore by helter skelter, so would they prick back their long and knowing ears, and setting the old Turks authority at defiance, charge like any Balaklava cavalry. And the old general that commanded them, apostrophised the prophet and ally, and the Hedjadje and the Sultan, until his voice

was thoroughly shaken out of him and he halted, an ignominious wretched old man, with his rag of a turban streaming far away from his colorless old fez and his time rutted brow. His blessings also accompanied us on our journey.

In the intervals between these genial amusements we managed to bag a very respectable amount of game comprising partridges, pheasants, hares, and a gazelle, the latter having been mainly captured through the instrumentality of a falcon, who alighting on the poor beast's head, flapped its wings until it was stupified and easily secured by the greyhounds.

Midway we crossed a very handsome aud wonderfully well constructed bridge for Turkey, which has been thrown over the Cydrus, and about an hour before sunset, just as the delightful sea breeze was wafted to us from the distant ocean, there arose up before us, glittering in the sunlight, mosques and minarets, domes, and turretted walls, well intermingled with the foliage of stately trees, and framed in by the lofty and snow capped Taurus range which again was surmounted by a cloudless blue sky. The panorama was superb, and this was Adana where we in due course arrived and lodged that night. This was to us, on that occasion, the city of the bride.

Next morning the great event of the day came off. The hospitable Frenchman who had given us lodgings lived at exactly the opposite end of the town to the quarter inhabited by the brides family; but the bridegroom was his next door neighbour. Never had morning dawned upon Adana when such a concourse of spectators had collected from the town itself and the surrounding villages to witness the extraordinary and novel spectacle of a Christian procession through their main street. And apropos of this it may be here observed that unlike the generality of oriental towns, Adana consists of one solitary street; not less than three miles in length of which the houses abutting upon the street are devoted to shops of all descriptions, whilst behind these and carefully hid from prying eyes, are the harems of the shopkeepers. The gentry and nobility" live out in the gardens or close by the river's side; where the astonished traveller suddenly emerges upon something like civilisation in the shape of some score of floating flour mills which are worked by water, and which not a little resemble so many river tugs. The shops are all single storied and flat roofed, and as we passed along, escorted by a considerable body of Turkish police, every inch of these terraces was occupied by ghastly females, women and girls, who had thus early, enveloped from head to foot in coverings of diverse colors, taken up a position which would gratify them with the sight of a spectacle they had never witnessed before, and in all probability never would again. As for the street itself, it was so closely packed with spectators that not all the remonstrances and heavy corbashes (whips) of the Cawas Bashis could restrain the eager curiosity of the many headed mob which contrasted most singu

larly with the stolid indifference of the shop owners themselves, who seated cross legged pursued their various avocations, and only paused to stare at us and relieve their overburthened minds with bursts of invectives; now and then accompanied with a more substantial proof of their detestation in the shape of any missile that was conveniently at hand. Every hundred yards introduced us to a new craft. Now we were amidst the diu and clatter of tinkers, who occupied either side until we emerged from them amongst the carpenters, and the hammer of the man cunning in the art of constructing wonderful boxes, that opened and shut with alarming noisy springs, the safeguard and the happiness of misers, was again substituted for hot and noisy blacksmiths. The members of these various crafts favoured us with highly uncomplimentary remarks as we passed along; but when we got amongst the shoemakers, and their name was legion, then we experienced the vilest and bitterest insults we had been exposed to since our arrivalthey positively spat upon us. From some cause or other shoemaking is a right honorable calling amongst the Turks, The shoemakers are mostly descended of nobles; and especially green turbaned vagabonds, who pretend to trace a descent from the prophet himself, and who have undergone much privation during sundry visits to Mecca and Medina. One of these gentlemen-the chief possibly-made a deadly charge at the Consul, armed with a murderous tool used in his trade. But our representative was as strong as Hercules and as brave as a lion. The astonished Turk found himself doubled up backwards, turbanless

spat upon by way of returning the compliment and hurled back breathless and bruised into his shop, minus his slippers, and amidst the irrepres. sible mirth of the spectators.

When we reached the bride's house-which we did scathless, though not without a struggle, and much pushing-we found a squadron of cavalry and two battalions of infantry drawn up in the street, to the intense and wholesome terror of surrounding fanatics, who had wholly made up their minds, at any cost, to annoy and disturb the procession. There also, dealing out doleful music, was the Pasha's own band, and inside, in the audience hall, the Pasha's aide-de-camps, and I do not know who besides, in military uniform, only that the greater mass of the Turkish officers present evinced a decided predeliction to slippers down at heel, which did not look quite military, or in accord with other accoutrements. Here, seated at the top of the hall, on a divan of rare carpets, was the father of the bride, resplendent in a costume of his own invention- a hybrid costume, comprising a little of every nation and creed in it. His head sported a Fez, with the Islam half moon or scimitar-for he held office under the Turkish Government, and was appaltateur, or the monopolist of salt, in that district. His nether garments were loose and flowing, as the Greeks of Cyprus usually wear them; his vest was a resplendent

for the Great Eastern passed Dover in a storm, and did not feel tremulous or troubled by the work. It's passengers enjoyed themselves admirably on a sea through which the common mail steamers did not venture.

The dispute between the builders and their employers in London, has not been adjusted, and while a great number of men remain without

wages, a considerable proportion of the employers and those who employ them, remain without their work. The collision has been most unhappy, although it would have been arranged or never cost a week on strike, except for the document, which the employers endeavour to enforce, no doubt in the hope of preventing for ever strikes by the workmen.

A Panorama of the New World. By KINAHAN CORNWALLIS, Vols. 1 and 2, 8vo. p. 430, p. 300. London: T. C. Newby,

MR. CORNWALLIS has been an active traveller, and is a voluminous writer. No doubt can exist on these two points. Only a month or two since, we had his travels in Japan, and now he is at Australia, down the coast of South America on the west side, over the Panama Railway, through the United States, and home. Mr. Cornwallis possesses a lively appreciation of the benefits resulting from a state of nature, and is captivated by the life of a savage.

It

An Edinburgh critic compares Japan to the "Crescent and the Cross," a London reviewer to "Eothen." The panorama of the new world must, therefore, have a share of the large family excellencies. Yet we do not like the first volume. concerns Australia, and chiefly Melbourne and its neighbourhood, where, if money came easily, it went lightly. One speculator, we are told, at the 107th page, built a bridge over the Salt Water River, and by charging each passenger 2s. 6d. for crossing, he gained a thousand pounds per week. There must have heen eight thousand passengers to pay that money. Melbourne, in its rude state, was a quiet city, when contrasted with San Fran cisco-not so much given over to billiards, cards, dice and revolvers. At the diggings, Mr. Cornwallis is sure that he found sad changes. He says: "Here all was toil, and life a perpetual struggle, and the wild man, sickening before the aggressive blast of a so-called civilisation, was fast withering away, and few indeed were the numbers of his once valiant race."

Valparaiso is one of the most important cities and seaports on the Pacific, in latitude thirty-three degrees south, and longitude about seventy-two west. It is distant about thirty leagues from Santiago, the capital of the republic, the journey to which is one of striking interest, the scenery being diversified with fruitful plains, hills, and mountains, From the summit of the Cuesta de Prado there is a glorious view of the Andes, and the plain on which Santiago is situated. Valparaiso used to be described as consisting chiefly of a long narrow street, built under a cliff, and skirting along a broad, sandy beach. Since then the cliffs, or rather granite hills have been cut away most extensively for building sites; and the sandy beach, or Almendral, has no ten streets ruuning parallel with each other, and many of which are lined with mansions. Adobe, or sun-dried bricks, were formerly the principal building materials, and the houses were one story high, on account of the frequent earthquakes; bnt of late years stone and burnt bricks have been much used, and many of the houses are of several stories. The public establishments are extensive and wellbuilt. The foreign population is considerable, the English, American, German, and French element preponderating. Many of the merchants of these nations have their offices in the lower part of the town, but their dwellings surrounded by gardens, are on the hills, from whence there is a lovely view of the mountains, with an occasional glimpse of the Aindes. Then there is the open bay, filled with ships, as

foreign as the merchants to whom they are consigued, some

bringing the manufactures of Europe, and in return taking away the produce of the country, including copper, wheat, and other grain, flour, tallow, hides, wool, much silver, and some gold.

The author was only a short time in Valparaiso, and still shorter, only a day and a night, at Santiago, which is the inland capital of Chili, respecting which, however, we hear less in society than of its seaport, Valparaiso; yet Santiago is a creditable city with many good features.

The city of Santiago, whose foundation dates from 1541, is laid out in regular squares of four hundred and eight feet on each side, and divided by streets forty-two feet broad, crossing each other at right angles, in nearly the directions of the cardinal points. Their pavement is of small round stones, with a trottoir of flags on one side. The river Mapocho skirts it to the north und west. The architecture of both private and public buildings is chiefly Moorish in its style, and the houses both single and two-stories are built of adobes and whitewashed. Instead of being provided with fireplaces, the rooms are warned when required by portable brazeras of charcoal. The plaze is an entire square, with a

eye view of the extreme west, beginning at Valparaiso :

the city. On its north-western side stands a fine white building, embracing the residence of the president, and the palace of the government, the prison and the law courts, be