bathed in Southern sunshine.  The beautiful level, stretching away to the mountains, stood golden with the fields of wheat which the reapers were cutting.  It was no longer bare, but dotted with orange groves, clumps of holly, and a number of magnificent terebinth-trees, whose dark, rounded masses of foliage remind one of the Northern oak.  Cattle were grazing in the stubble, and horses, almost buried under loads of fresh grass, met us as they passed to the city.  The sheaves were drawn to the threshing-floor on sleds, and we could see the husbandmen in the distance treading out and winnowing the grain.  Over these bright, busy scenes, rose the lesser heights of the Taurus, and beyond them, mingled in white clouds, the snows of the crowning range.

The road to Tarsus, which is eight hours distant, lies over an unbroken plain.  Towards the sea, there are two tumuli, resembling those on the plains east of Antioch.  Stone wells, with troughs for watering horses, occur at intervals of three or four miles; but there is little cultivation after leaving the vicinity of Adana.  The sun poured down an intense summer heat, and hundreds of large gad-flies, swarming around us, drove the horses wild with their stings.  Towards noon, we stopped at a little village for breakfast.  We took possession of a shop, which the good-natured merchant offered us, and were about to spread our provisions upon the counter, when the gnats and mosquitoes fairly drove us away.  We at once went forward in search of a better place, which gave occasion to our chief mukkairee, Hadji Youssuf, for a violent remonstrance.  The terms of the agreement at Aleppo gave the entire control of the journey into our own hands, and the Hadji now sought to violate it.  He protested against our travelling more than six hours a day, and conducted himself so insolently, that we threatened to take him before the Pasha of Tarsus.  This silenced him for the time; but we hate him so cordially since then, that I foresee we shall have more trouble.  In the afternoon, a gust, sweeping along the sides of Taurus, cooled the air and afforded us a little relief.

By three o’clock we reached the River Cydnus, which is bare of trees on its eastern side, but flows between banks covered with grass and shrubs.  It is still spanned by the ancient bridge, and the mules now step in the hollow ruts worn long ago by Roman and Byzantine chariot wheels.  The stream is not more than thirty yards broad, but has a very full and rapid current of a bluish-white color, from the snows which feed it.  I rode down to the brink and drank a cup of the water.  It was exceedingly cold, and I do not wonder that a bath in it should have killed the Emperor Barbarossa.  From the top of the bridge, there is a lovely view, down the stream, where it washes a fringe of willows and heavy fruit-trees on its western bank, and then winds away through the grassy plain, to the sea.  For once, my fancy ran parallel with the inspiration of the