Yesterday, Ibrahim Pasha reached this place in an Egyptian frigate from Tripoli, on his way to the south. He landed about the middle of the day, under a salute from the forts, and was escorted by a body of troops to a large house outside the walls, and near the sands. In the afternoon, the American consul, who was about to call on the Pasha, as is usual with the consuls on such occasions, was so kind as to call and take me with him. We found a company of soldiers before the door, and a number of officers and dignitaries of various kinds, in waiting. We were asked into a carpeted room, with a divan, that is, a low seat covered with cushions, on all sides. The Pasha was seated in one corner; several consuls with their suites were in the act of leaving when we entered. He returned our salutations with an inclination of the head, and a slight motion of his hand to his breast, and pointed us to seats on the divan a few feet from him--the consul on his right and myself on his left. The Pasha is a short man, but heavily built, and I should judge from his appearance that he has considerable muscular force. He has a coarse, homely, round face, but none of its features can be called striking. His skin is rather rough and coarse, and looks as if it would bear washing more frequently than it receives it, and would not be the worse if some soap were at times added to the water. This was the case also with his hands, which looked as if they had never known a glove. They were fleshy--the fingers short but thick, and indicated a powerful grasp. He wore the Turkish dress, which, as you know, consists of a long robe open in front, and also at the sides from the knees down, showing the large loose trousers worn under them. His outside garment was of a flesh-coloured silk; the second, which showed itself at the breast, was striped silk. His girdle was a variegated Cashmere shawl, forming a bandage round him of a foot in width. This shawl was not of the finest kind. He had a plain red fez on his head, with no other ornament upon it than the usual blue tassel. He wore plain stockings and a pair of red slippers. In truth, his whole dress was far inferior to that of a number of persons who came in and paid their respects to him while we were there. Most of them, however, wore the large Turkish cloak; he was without any. Take him all in all, the man and the dress, and I think that at least one half of those who came in while we were there, were his equals, if not his superiors. He conversed freely, laughed a good deal, and several times very heartily. I could not understand enough of the conversation to know what things had the power of pleasing and amusing him. At times, I thought a sour and severe expression gathered on his countenance. He spoke with interest of the American squadron, and the politeness of Commodore Elliott in showing him everything about his vessel. He was evidently struck with the style and equipment of our vessels. He mentioned