This city, though not hallowed by the notice of the sacred penman, or selected as a beacon on which the early light of Christianity was to shine, has yet many claims on the notice of a traveller. Mythology and history contribute to the interest it excites, nor is its name unconnected with the arts and sciences.−-Here it was that Niobe lamented the loss of her children, and the effects of her grief still appear in her supposed transformation−-here it was that Scipio defeated the Asiatic confederacy, and obtained the first permanent footing in Asia−-and here it was that extraordinary substance was first discovered, whose properties and affinities have since become the wonder and guide of man in the trackless ocean. The city of Magnesia was founded by Tantalus, whose fabled punishment renders his name so notorious in the world. The situation is striking; it stands near the foot of a lofty mountain, on the edge of a vast and fertile plain, and its site and soil resemble those of Brusa; but it wants those important advantages which the other enjoys. The ridges of Sipylus afford no perennial snows like those of Olympus, to refresh the inhabitants below; nor is there any solution of the frigid element, to ripple in copious currents through the streets, or meander through the fertile plain. Its site, however, is very beautiful. Above it rise in majestic grandeur the rugged and romantic precipices of a mountain once celebrated for its thunder and lightning, and which still seem to be the shattered and splintered effects of those electric storms; and below it, lies one of those vast and exuberant levels, which, in Asia Minor, are found at the base of its hill, endued with the capabilities of all the luxury of life. This majestic plain is eight or ten miles in breadth, and fifteen in length. Through the centre flows the river Hermus, which, like the Pactolus its tributary stream, abounds in auriferous sands, but, like the Nile, has the more valuable property of fertilizing its soil, and, by the deposit of its rich mud, producing golden harvests. This was so remarkable formerly, that medals in honour of the river were struck, representing its course; having on one side the branch of a fruit-tree, and on the other a cornucopiæ, emblematic of its abundant produce. The fate of Turkey has, however, now blasted it. The luxuriance of a wild vegetation covers its corn-fields, and its former crops are converted into groves of tamarisk; still it abounds in many indications of its former state. Gardens and vineyards cover extensive spaces, verdant pastures are filled with snow-white sheep, and the landscape is varied by herds of those sable goats peculiar to Anatolia, whose dark and silky coats contrast in so striking a manner with their woolly companions. The camel is nowhere more noble and majestic. The breed is here particularly attended to. They are seen gaily caparisoned, winding in long lines through the plains, laden with