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among whom are a few eminent and clever men: soon after his entrance, a group begins to form around the gifted man, who, after a suitable pause, to collect hearers or whet their expectations, begins his story. It is a picturesque sight—of the Arab with his wild and graceful gestures, and his auditory, hushed into deep and childlike attention, seated at the edge of the rushing tide, while the narrator moves from side to side, and each accent of his distinct and musical voice is heard throughout the Cafe. The building directly opposite is another house, of a similar kind in every respect There are a few small Cafe's, more select as to company, where the Turkish gentlemen often go, form dinner parties, and spend the day.

Night is the propitious season to visit these places: the glare of the sun, glancing on the waters, is passed away: the company is then most numerous, for it is their favourite hour: the lamps, suspended from the slender pillars, are lighted: the Turks, in the various and brilliant colours of their costume, crowd the platform, some standing moveless as the pillars beside them, their long pipe in their hand—noble specimens of humanity, if intellect breathed within: some reclining against the rails, others seated in groups, or solitary as if buried in " lonely thoughts sublime;" while the rush of the falling waters is sweeter music than that of the pipe and the guitar, that faintly strive to be heard. The cataract in the plate is a very fine one; on its foam the moonlight was lovely: we passed many an hour here on such a night, the clear waters of the Pharpar, as they rolled on, reflecting each pillar, each Damascene slowly moving by in his waving garments. The glare of the lamps mingled strangely with the moonlight, that rested with a soft and vivid glory on the waters, and fell beneath pillar and roof on the picturesque groups within.

KALENDRIA—COAST OF CILICIA.

The little port of Kalendria, or Chelindreh, on the coast of Cilicia, looks by moonlight like the creation of the artist's imaginings, rather than a faithful copy from nature. This is the most favourable hour for the bold and spiry cliffs of its coast and islands: the precipices of limestone and black slate, rarely relieved by trees or verdure, were now softened by the calm light, that fell on each peak, rock, and tower, mercifully shrouding the nakedness and deariness so visible in the fierce sunbeam. The shore was full of bustle and movement at the departure of a fine brig, that was about to sail with the first breeze of morning; boats were putting off with passengers and goods: the people of the village were mostly astir at this event, rather unusual in this lone and little frequented port. The couriers from Constantinople to Cyprus embark here; the latter island may be seen in the horizon from the heights above: the route hence to Konia, the ancient Iconium, is one of great beauty, magnificence, and variety, and of several days' duration. The first day's journey of six hours from Kalendria, leads a few miles into a luxuriant and cultivated valley, and thence through groves of myrtle, bay, and other shrubs, and along the beds of torrents adorned with oleander: at length the road ascends the mountains; in one part, high perpendicular rocks, of the most grotesque and varied forms, stand up among the trees, "resembling the representations of rocks on Chinese earthenware;" the way afterwards passes through a beautiful mountain scenery, romantic valleys covered with pine, juniper, oak, and beach, with rivulets of clear water trickling through, till it arrives at Sheich-Amur, perched on a rocky hill in a small hollow, surrounded by an amphitheatre of woody mountains. Here the traveller rests for the night, after a comparatively short yet delightful day's journey: the scenery around him is a vivid contrast to the wild and iron-bound port of Kalendria; yet the mass of forests on every side are less grateful to the eye than the bold and moonlight isles, and the murmur of the wind in the foliage is less musical than the fall of the waves on the shore, that solemn sound that seems less of this world than of another.

There is little in Kalendria to detain the impatient traveller, who may be pitied if there is no bark to take him to Cyprus, or means of conveyance to Iconium: the dwellings are mean and comfortless: and he cannot help a fervent wish that the ancient and massive tower, with peopled halls and cheerful lights, once more opened to the stranger—how welcome, from the casement window of the turret chamber, to look forth on such a night; to hear the sentinel on the wall, singing his Cilician song. This is the place where, in the reign of Tiberius, the progress of the injurious Piso was arrested, after that, by his plots and machinations, he had mainly contributed to the death of Germanicus. Sentius forced Piso to throw himself into a castle of Cilicia named Celendris: an engagement ensued, in which the former had greatly the advantage: then Piso attempted to surprise the adverse fleet, and shewed himself from the wall to the legions, and harangued them, endeavouring to entice them over to him, and the eagle-bearer of the fourth legion actually went over with his standard. Upon this, Sentius commanded the trumpets to sound, and prepared to storm the place, when Piso offered to lay down his arms, if he might be permitted to stay in Celendris, But this was rejected: nor was aught granted him but some ships, and a passport to Italy. The fortress is now utterly ruinous, and can scarcely tempt the Greek mistich, or pirate, to seek a momentary refuge within its holds.

The lonely tower, from its thin fringe of wood
Gives to the parting of the wintry moon
One hasty glance, in mockery of the night,
Closing in darkness round it.

"On one side of the town," observes Captain Beaufort, "we found several wellarched vaults, and on the other, a great number of the sepulchral houses, or sarcophagi. the latter are made of a coarse marble, which has suffered so much from time and weather, that most of the inscriptions are effaced. There are three small islands in front of Chelindreh, and at some miles farther to the eastward two more, which are called Butterfly Islands. One of these is very high; and a lofty spire of rock, that leans from a cliff over the sea, gives it a singular appearance. Their only inhabitants now are eagles, who, unaccustomed to the sound of human voices, quitted their aeries on the lofty cliffs, and hovered over the boats with amusing surprise and uneasiness. The coast adjacent to these islands is high and rude; it is probable that the Aphro

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