scene.  I could think of nothing but the galley of Cleopatra slowly stemming the current of the stream, its silken sails filled with the sea-breeze, its gilded oars keeping time to the flutes, whose voluptuous melodies floated far out over the vernal meadows.  Tarsus was probably almost hidden then, as now, by its gardens, except just where it touched the river; and the dazzling vision of the Egyptian Queen, as she came up conquering and to conquer, must have been all the more bewildering, from the lovely bowers through which she sailed.

From the bridge an ancient road still leads to the old Byzantine gate of Tarsus.  Part of the town is encompassed by a wall, built by the Caliph Haroun Al-Raschid, and there is a ruined fortress, which is attributed to Sultan Bajazet Small streams, brought from the Cydnus, traverse the environs, and, with such a fertile soil, the luxuriance of the gardens in which the city lies buried is almost incredible.  In our rambles in search of a place to pitch the tent, we entered a superb orange-orchard, the foliage of which made a perpetual twilight.  Many of the trunks were two feet in diameter.  The houses are mostly of one story, and the materials are almost wholly borrowed from the ancient city.  Pillars, capitals, fragments of cornices and entablatures abound.  I noticed here, as in Adana, a high wooden frame on the top of every house, raised a few steps above the roof, and covered with light muslin, like a portable bathing-house.  Here the people put up their beds in the evening, sleep, and come down to the roofs in the morning—­an excellent plan for getting better air in these malarious plains and escaping from fleas and mosquitoes.  In our search for the Armenian Church, which is said to have been founded by St. Paul ("Saul of Tarsus"), we came upon a mosque, which had been originally a Christian Church, of Greek times.

From the top of a mound, whereupon stand the remains of an ancient circular edifice, we obtained a fine view of the city and plain of Tarsus.  A few houses or clusters of houses stood here and there like reefs amid the billowy green, and the minarets—­one of them with a nest of young storks on its very summit—­rose like the masts of sunken ships.  Some palms lifted their tufted heads from the gardens, beyond which the great plain extended from the mountains to the sea.  The tumulus near Mersyn, the port of Tarsus, was plainly visible.  Two hours from Mersyn are the ruins of Pompeiopolis, the name given by Pompey to the town of Soli, after his conquest of the Cilician pirates.  From Soli, on account of the bad Greek spoken by its inhabitants, came the term “solecism.”  The ruins of Pompeiopolis consist of a theatre, temples, and a number of houses, still in good preservation.  The whole coast, as far as Aleya, three hundred miles west of this, is said to abound with ruined cities, and I regret exceedingly that time will not permit me to explore it.