frequent hostility of the inhabitants. Provisions had lately been brought for his army in transports to Scanderoon, where he began to build storehouses for their safety, while his army was in pressing want. Upon the approach of Ibrahim, his forces were wasted by disease, and thinned by the desertion of large bodies of men. Afraid to meet the invader in the open and fair field, he left Antioch, and took up his position behind the Pass of Beilan, a place of great natural strength, and made every preparation to defend it with vigour. He ranged his troops along the heights, and posted artillery on all the commanding points: his cavalry were also dispersed in different parts of the defile, and he determined there to await the attack of Ibrahim: it was not slow in arriving. The Egyptian army reached the pass on the 28th July, and on the succeeding morning proceeded to force it. There are two roads that lead to it, and the army, having been divided, proceeded along both; Ibrahim, with four regiments and the guards, advancing along the main road on the right hand, which the enemy had most strongly fortified, The peaceful villagers of Beilan, whose dwellings for many generations had not heard the sound of war, were now spectators of a murderous conflict among heights, precipices, and passes, which, in the burning month of July, are formidable even to the idle and careless traveller. The resistance on the part of the Turks was most determined; and although their fire was ill-directed, the Egyptians were repulsed in their successive charges, and made but little progress during a great portion of the day. At last, by a wellsustained fire of their artillery, the latter succeeded in dismounting some of the enemy's guns, and produced confusion in their ranks: Ibrahim sent round his guards, to endeavour to take the heights on one side where they were accessible, and made a simultaneous charge in front. This manœuvre was completely successful; a panic, similar to that of the battle of Homs, again seized the Turks, and communicated itself to the whole of their army. They fled in the direction of Adana in the greatest disorder, leaving their guns, ammunition, and arms, and were pursued by the Egyptians with dreadful slaughter: their loss is stated in killed at 13,000 men; nearly forty pieces of artillery were left on the ground, and they lost nearly the whole of their ammunition and baggage. The Egyptian cavalry continued to pursue the fugitives, to disperse any reunion that might take place, and brought in several thousand prisoners; others deserted, and joined the Egyptians; and the remaining few made their way as they best could to Koniah, where a few months afterwards another dreadful defeat awaited them. The grand Turkish army had thus ceased to exist in one month after it entered on the scene of action; and its commander, from whom so much had been expected, and upon whom so many honours and distinctions had been conferred, in the certain anticipation by the Sultan of his success, was a fugitive like the rest. The store-houses which he had built with so much care at Scanderoon, and filled with provisions, all fell into the enemy's hands. And now Ibrahim was master of the whole of Syria, without an enemy before him or behind him. He had been hitherto more remarkable for the skill, rapidity, and decision of his marches, than for his dispositions in the field of battle: his advances were rarely arrested by the want of provisions, the excessive heats, or the visitations of disease: confidence in his own talents was ever as present to his mind, as was energy to his operations: personal bravery he possessed in an eminent degree, Acre having been carried, in the last desperate charge, chiefly by his rushing among the fugitive troops from the breach, striking down several with his sabre, and then leading them back in The battle of the Pass of Beilan was that in which he gave the greatest proofs. person. of superior military skill and tactics, and his troops of determination and bravery. The advantages of position, numbers, and artillery were all on the side of the Turks. Another century may elapse ere the mountain homes of Beilan will again be scared by the din of battle, the sound of its lonely torrent drowned amidst the roar of cannon, and the confused shouts and cries of the wounded and dying, who made its waters red with blood. Even weeks and months after the battle, it continued to be visited by parties of soldiers, and the passage of stores, &c. from Scanderoon to Antioch: so that its troubled people had hardly time to recover from their fears and losses; and many families entirely forsook it, and sought a residence elsewhere. THE MOUTH OF THE NAHR-EL-KELB; This scene occurs in the way from Beirout to Tripoli: after leaving the former town, the way runs for a short time between gardens, and in about a mile and a half is a river, crossed by a bridge of six arches; from hence, the traveller passes along the sea-beach to a rocky promontory, from whose summit is seen on the other side the Nahr-el-Kelb, or river of the dog, running beautifully through a deep chasm in the mountains, and a very neat bridge over it. This road is the Via Antoniana, and was cut by the emperor Antoninus, as is still testified by an inscription cut in the side of the rock, and given by Maundrell. This river is the Lycus of the Greeks; according to Strabo, it was formerly navigable, although the stream is very rapid. The stone bridge is the work of Fakr-el-den, the celebrated prince of the Druses, who perished in 1631. The Nahr-el-Kelb is the boundary of the patriarchates of Jerusalem and Antioch. The mountains, which are here very high and steep, come down to the sea, leaving only the road between them and the bay: on their summits are some small convents, romantically situated: some travellers are fording the stream, and proceeding along the shore it is yet early in the day: the valley at the end of this bay is cultivated, and studded with cottages. About two hours farther is the Nahr-Ibrahim, so called from a pacha of that name, perhaps the builder of the handsome bridge of one arch by which it is crossed. This river, like the Nahr-el-Kelb, issues forth from a deep chasm between the mountains: it is the ancient Adonis, and Maundrell was fortunate enough "to see what may be supposed to be the occasion of that opinion which Lucian relates concerning this river, viz. that about certain seasons of the year, especially about the feast of Adonis, it is of a bloody colour, which the heathens regarded as proceeding from a kind of sympathy in the river for the death of Adonis, who was killed by a wild boar in the mountains out of which it rises. Something like this we saw actually come to |