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sufficient for every luxury and comfort to a family. There was a splendid house near the town, in the midst of extensive gardens, watered by many fountains, and adorned by beautiful kiosques; the price asked for its purchase was only £150. An excellent mansion in the environs might be rented for a trifling sum: its gardens, sloping down to the water, its terrace, and the latticed windows looking on the sea, the shores, and the mountains of Asia Minor opposite. The comfort and celerity of steam navigation through this sea, is now so tempting, that it is probable its isles, more especially that of Rhodes, will be the sojourn, for a time, of many a wanderer. There are delicious spots for a residence, or a transient visit, in the groves by the sea, in the vales of the interior, or on the sides of the lofty mountains. The women of Rhodes possess superior personal attractions; and though they do not fulfil the beau-ideal of the poet, the painter, or the traveller's imaginings, they have the large dark eye, soft and mild in its expression, with none of the Gulnare fierceness; their features, as is frequently remarked of Turkish females, bear a striking resemblance to those of many English ladies—the lip full, the forehead high, the complexion very clear, and not always without the rose. In the Catholic convent, there resided, in almost utter solitude, a very clever padre. He was a fine old Lucchese, of eighty, with a long white beard, and an eye keen as that of a hawk, and a hand that never trembled. He had abundant and ingenious resources wherewith to amuse his loneliness; he wrote homilies, knit stockings, cured tobacco, made the church-candles, also the wine; taught children, and filled up his leisure moments with his breviary. When to these occupations are added his clerical functions in the chapel, and the visiting his flock, he surely did not eat the bread of idleness. He gave me some very good red and white Rhodian wine, while I lodged with him, made from his own vineyard. He was the very model of a shrewd, selfish, indefatigable monk; yet it was admirable to see how he battled with time, and laughed at his encroachments; thrust indolence and decay from him with a high hand. He drank his own wine, and supped freely: yet his laugh was not a hearty or happy one; he appeared like the hoary and subtle watcher of the fold, who rejoiced to thrive and outlive them all, rather than the aged pastor. BESHERRAI—MOUNT LEBANON. This village is on the stream, "the holy Kadesha," which is seen descending from the snows which rise above the celebrated cedars. The river is spanned by a little bridge, on which the people pass from one side of their narrow valley to the other. This singular domain can hardly be called a valley; the habitable space below seems so narrow, walled in by tremendous precipices, and its surface strewed here and there with masses of rock, that it is rather a deep and awful gorge, a very prison of nature, where it seems fearful to dwell. But if the traveller descends to Besherrai, he will find homes of comfort and content; husbandmen labouring in their little fields and

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