d the effect of a
chill--a violent nervous shudder. The temperature of the springs is 180 deg.
Fahrenheit, and I suppose the tank into which he afterwards plunged me
must have been nearly up to the mark. When, at last, I was laid on the
couch, my body was so parboiled that I perspired at all pores for full an
hour--a feeling too warm and unpleasant at first, but presently merging
into a mood which was wholly rapturous and heavenly. I was like a soft
white cloud, that rests all of a summer afternoon on the peak of a distant
mountain. I felt the couch on which I lay no more than the cloud might
feel the cliffs on which it lingers so airily. I saw nothing but peaceful,
glorious sights; spaces of clear blue sky; stretches of quiet lawns;
lovely valleys threaded by the gentlest of streams; azure lakes, unruffled
by a breath; calms far out on mid-ocean, and Alpine peaks bathed in the
flush of an autumnal sunset. My mind retraced all our journey from
Aleppo, and there was a halo over every spot I had visited. I dwelt with
rapture on the piny hills of Phrygia, on the gorges of Taurus, on the
beechen solitudes of Olympus. Would to heaven that I might describe those
scenes as I then felt them! All was revealed to me: the heart of Nature
lay bare, and I read the meaning and knew the inspiration of her every
mood. Then, as my frame grew cooler, and the fragrant clouds of the
narghileh, which had helped my dreams, diminished, I was like that same
summer cloud, when it feels a gentle breeze and is lifted above the hills,
floating along independent of Earth, but for its shadow.

Brousa is a very long, straggling place, extending for three or four miles
along the side of the mountain, but presenting a very picturesque
appearance from every point. The houses are nearly all three stories high,
built of wood and unburnt bricks, and each story projects over the other,
after the manner of German towns of the Middle Ages. They have not the
hanging balconies which I have found so quaint and pleasing in Kiutahya.
But, especially in the Greek quarter, many of them are plastered and
painted of some bright color, which gives a gay, cheerful appearance to
the streets. Besides, Brousa is the cleanest Turkish town I have seen. The
mountain streams traverse most of the streets, and every heavy rain washes
them out thoroughly. The whole city has a brisk, active air, and the
workmen appear both more skilful and more industrious than in the other
parts o