then such a poring over ancient maps; such a reading up of Bibles and Palestine travels; such a marking out of routes; such exasperating efforts to divide up the company into little bands of congenial spirits who might make the long and arduous Journey without quarreling; and morning, noon and night, such mass-meetings in the cabins, such speech-making, such sage suggesting, such worrying and quarreling, and such a general raising of the very mischief, was never seen in the ship before!

But it is all over now.  We are cut up into parties of six or eight, and by this time are scattered far and wide.  Ours is the only one, however, that is venturing on what is called “the long trip”—­that is, out into Syria, by Baalbec to Damascus, and thence down through the full length of Palestine.  It would be a tedious, and also a too risky journey, at this hot season of the year, for any but strong, healthy men, accustomed somewhat to fatigue and rough life in the open air.  The other parties will take shorter journeys.

For the last two months we have been in a worry about one portion of this Holy Land pilgrimage.  I refer to transportation service.  We knew very well that Palestine was a country which did not do a large passenger business, and every man we came across who knew any thing about it gave us to understand that not half of our party would be able to get dragomen and animals.  At Constantinople every body fell to telegraphing the American Consuls at Alexandria and Beirout to give notice that we wanted dragomen and transportation.  We were desperate—­would take horses, jackasses, cameleopards, kangaroos—­any thing.  At Smyrna, more telegraphing was done, to the same end.  Also fearing for the worst, we telegraphed for a large number of seats in the diligence for Damascus, and horses for the ruins of Baalbec.

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.