laughter and down went his tray on the ground and the Arab bread went rolling among the stones. It was a great mercy that I did not fall under the brute's feet, but I held on until he got the other side of the Jordan, when a man ran out from the mill and stopped him. Monsur now led him by the halter and I reached the bitumen wells in safety. You can mount your donkey and Harry will ride another, and I will ride my horse, and we will try a Syrian journey. As we cannot spare the time to go from Beirut to Tripoli by land, I have sent Ibrahim to take the animals along the shore, and we will go up by the French steamer, a fine large vessel called the "Ganges." We go down to the Kumruk or Custom House, and there a little Arab boat takes us out to the steamer. In rough weather it is very dangerous going out to the steamers, and sometimes little boats are capsized, but to-night there is no danger. You are now on the deck of the steamer. What a charming view of Beirut and Mount Lebanon. Far out on the point of the cape are the new buildings of the Syrian College, and next is the Prussian Hospital and then the Protestant Prussian Deaconesses Institution with 130 orphans and 80 paying pupils. There is the house of Dr. Thomson and Dr. Van Dyck and Dr. Post, and the Turkish Barracks, and Mrs. Mott's school, and our beautiful Church, with its clock tower, and you can hear the clock strike six. Then next to the Church is the Female Seminary with its 100 pupils, and the Steam Printing Press, where are printed so many books and Scriptures every year in the Arabic language. Those tall cypress trees are in the Mission Cemetery where Pliny Fisk, and Eli Smith, and Mr. Whiting, and a good many little children are buried. Near by are the houses of Dr. Bliss and Dr. Lewis and our house, and you can see mosques and minarets and domes and red-tiled roofs, and beautiful arched corridors and green trees in every direction. Do you see the beautiful purple tints on the Lebanon Mountains as the sun goes down? Is it not worth a long journey to see that lofty peak gilded and tinted with purple and pink and yellow as the sun sinks into the sea? What a noise these boatmen make! I doubt whether you have ever heard such a screaming before.