to another piece of land, or drive him away altogether, if he
thinks it advisable to do so; for a pacha's power in his province is
as great as that of the Sultan himself in Constantinople.

Porcupines are to be met with on Mount Tabor; we found several of
their fine horny quills.

From the farther side of the mountain we descended into the
beautiful and spacious valley of Saphed, the scene of the miracle of
the loaves and fishes, and rode on for some hours until we reached
Tabarith.

A very striking scene opens before the eyes of the traveller on the
last mountain before Tabarith. A lovely landscape lies suddenly
unrolled before him. The valley sinks deeply down to the Galilean
Sea, round the shores of which a glorious chain of mountains rises
in varied and picturesque terrace-like forms. More beautiful than
all the rest, towers in snowy grandeur the mighty chain of the Anti-
Lebanon, its white surface glittering in the rays of the sun, and
distinctly mirrored in the clear bosom of the lake. Deep down lies
the little town of Tabarith, shadowed by palm-trees, and guarded by
a castle raised a little above it. The unexpected beauty of this
scene surprised us so much that we alighted from our horses, and
passed more than half an hour on the summit of the mountain, to gaze
at our leisure upon the wondrous picture. Count S. drew a hurried
but very successful sketch of the landscape which we all admired so
much, though its mountains were naked and bare. But such is the
peculiar character of Eastern scenery; in Europe, meadows, alps, and
woods exhibit quite a distinct class of natural beauty. In a
mountain region of Europe, a sight like the one we were now admiring
would scarcely have charmed us so much. But in these regions, poor
alike in inhabitants and in scenery, the traveller is contented with
little, and a little thing charms him. For instance, would not a
plain piece of beef have been a greater luxury to us on our journey
than the most costly delicacies at home? Thus we felt also with
regard to scenery.

On entering the town we experienced a feeling of painful emotion.
Tabarith lay still half in ruins; for the dreadful earthquake of
1839 had made this place one of the chief victims of its fury. How
must the town have looked immediately after the calamity, when even
now, in spite of the extensive repairs, it appears almost like a
heap of ruins! We saw some houses that had completely fallen in;
others w