Tiflis is well worth a visit: it is situated on the lofty banks of a tumultuous river, and its green and red roofs, varied by the gleaming domes of the churches, are most picturesque. There is a large number of these, and Tiflis has become the home of many religious refugees, for in order to stamp out heresy, orthodox Russia exiles her Baptists, Stundists, &c., to the outlying parts of the empire, such as Siberia and the Caucasus. It boasts a fine German church, also a Swedish mission, and a depôt of the Bible Society. The Swedish missionaries have been working there for twenty-two years, but are not allowed by the Government to have any medical or educational work, which greatly limits their usefulness. It is hard work, but bravely done. Tiflis is noted for its sulphur baths, and attracts many visitors from different parts of Russia on that account. After a drive round the town we went up the funicular railway, and from the summit a magnificent panoramic view is to be had, for Tiflis is in the heart of the mountains. The ruins of the old walls can be traced on the north side of the river, and the old Georgian fortress, now included in the botanical garden. Tiflis was founded in the fifth century, and became the capital of the Georgian kingdom in the beginning of the sixth century. It fell into the hands of Russia in 1801, and the feelings of the Georgians are still intensely bitter after a century of foreign rule. It is a cosmopolitan city, and Professor Brugsch estimates that seventy languages may be heard in it. One unusual feature of the population is that the men are double the number of the women. At 5.30 next morning we set out for the automobile and secured our seats; it was a covered car to seat nine passengers, but we were only six, which certainly seemed a sufficient load for the road we had to cover. The earlier part of the way we sped through pretty wooded country, with picturesque villages and ruined fortresses dotted among the crags on either side of the road. They were not so numerous as to punctuate the scenery in the way they do on the Rhine, but just to remind one that this was the Georgian military road in the old days. Our chauffeur was a good one, but unfortunately his hooter was as hoarse as a raven and not even as loud, so that there was no means of warning the vehicles ahead, which caused constant delay on the narrow road. Before we had proceeded far we saw a comical accident owing to the soft condition of the road; a private motor car on one side and a cart on the other had each sunk deep into the soil in trying to avoid one another. Fortunately there was plenty of assistance at hand, for the cart belonged to a party of emigrants, and soon both vehicles were dug out and pushed on to solid ground.