surrounded with a substantial wall, with two gateways, on the north and
south. A bazaar, covered with a lofty vaulted roof of stone, runs directly
through from gate to gate; and there was still a smell of spices in the
air, on entering. The massive shops on either hand, with their open doors,
invited possession, and might readily be made habitable again. The great
iron gates leading from the bazaar into the khans and courts, still swing
on their rusty hinges. We rode into the court of the mosque, which is
surrounded with a light and elegant corridor, supported by pillars. The
grass has as yet but partially invaded the marble pavement, and a stone
drinking-trough still stands in the centre. I urged my horse up the steps
and into the door of the mosque. It is in the form of a Greek cross, with
a dome in the centre, resting on four very elegant pointed arches. There
is an elaborately gilded and painted gallery of wood over the entrance,
and the pulpit opposite is as well preserved as if the _mollah_ had just
left it. Out of the mosque we passed into a second court, and then over a
narrow bridge into the fortress. The moat is perfect, and the walls as
complete as if just erected. Only the bottom is dry, and now covered with
a thicket of wild pomegranate trees. The heavy iron doors of the fortress
swung half open, as we entered unchallenged. The interior is almost
entire, and some of the cannon still lie buried in the springing grass.
The plan of the little town, which appears to have been all built at one
time, is most admirable. The walls of circuit, including the fortress,
cannot be more than 300 yards square, and yet none of the characteristics
of a large Oriental city are omitted.

Leaving Baias, we travelled northward, over a waste, though fertile plain.
The mountains on our right made a grand appearance, with their feet
mantled in myrtle, and their tops plumed with pine. They rise from the sea
with a long, bold sweep, but each peak falls off in a precipice on the
opposite side, as if the chain were the barrier of the world and there was
nothing but space beyond. In the afternoon we left the plain for a belt of
glorious garden land, made by streams that came down from the mountains.
We entered a lane embowered in pomegranate, white rose, clematis, and
other flowering vines and shrubs, and overarched by superb plane, lime,
and beech trees, chained together with giant grape vines. On either side
were fields of ripe wheat