As might have been expected, a notion got abroad in Syria and Egypt that the whole population of the Province of America (the Turks consider us a trifling little province in some unvisited corner of the world,) were coming to the Holy Land—­and so, when we got to Beirout yesterday, we found the place full of dragomen and their outfits.  We had all intended to go by diligence to Damascus, and switch off to Baalbec as we went along—­because we expected to rejoin the ship, go to Mount Carmel, and take to the woods from there.  However, when our own private party of eight found that it was possible, and proper enough, to make the “long trip,” we adopted that programme.  We have never been much trouble to a Consul before, but we have been a fearful nuisance to our Consul at Beirout.  I mention this because I can not help admiring his patience, his industry, and his accommodating spirit.  I mention it also, because I think some of our ship’s company did not give him as full credit for his excellent services as he deserved.

Well, out of our eight, three were selected to attend to all business connected with the expedition.  The rest of us had nothing to do but look at the beautiful city of Beirout, with its bright, new houses nestled among a wilderness of green shrubbery spread abroad over an upland that sloped gently down to the sea; and also at the mountains of Lebanon that environ it; and likewise to bathe in the transparent blue water that rolled its billows about the ship (we did not know there were sharks there.) We had also to range up and down through the town and look at the costumes.  These are picturesque and fanciful, but not so varied as at Constantinople and Smyrna; the women of Beirout add an agony—­in the two former cities the sex wear a thin veil which one can see through (and they often expose their ancles,) but at Beirout they cover their entire faces with dark-colored or black veils, so that they look like mummies, and then expose their breasts to the public.  A young gentleman (I believe he was a Greek,) volunteered to show us around the city, and said it would afford him great pleasure, because he was studying English and wanted practice in that language.  When we had finished the rounds, however, he called for remuneration—­said he hoped the gentlemen would give him a trifle in the way of a few piastres (equivalent to a few five cent pieces.) We did so.  The Consul was surprised when he heard it, and said he knew the young fellow’s family very well, and that they were an old and highly respectable family and worth a hundred and fifty thousand dollars!  Some people, so situated, would have been ashamed of the berth he had with us and his manner of crawling into it.