chaise," without the slightest chance of rejection. But it is
difficult to imagine so dashing a traveller, boxed up in a civilized
conveyance, rolling quietly along a macadamized road, with a diversity
of milestones and an occasional turnpike gate, the only incidents by
the way--no wild Maronite glimpsing at him over the hedge; no
black-eyed houri peeping over the balustrades of the caravanserai,
(called by vulgar men the Bricklayers' Arms)--no Saices to help John
Hostler to change horses; but dulness, uniformity, and most tiresome
and unromantic safety. England, we are sorry to confess it, is not the
land of stirring adventures or hair-breadth 'scapes--a railway coach
occasionally blows up; a blind leader occasionally bolts into a ditch;
a wheel comes occasionally into dangerous collision with one of
Pickford's vans; but these are the utmost that can be hoped for in the
way of peril, and other excitement there is positively none. We have
treated life as the mathematician did Paradise Lost--we have struck
out all its similes--obliterated its flights--expunged its glorious
visions--we have made it prose. But fortunately for us--for Colonel
Napier--for the reading public--there is a land where mathematicians
are unknown, and where poetry continues to flourish in the full vigour
of cimeters and turbans--the region of the sun--

"The first of Eastern lands he shines upon."

It was in this very beautiful, but rather overdone portion of earth's
surface, that the adventures occurred of which we are now to give some
account; and as probably most of our readers have heard the name of
Syria pretty often of late, we need not display much geographical
erudition in pointing out where it lies. It would be pleasant to us if
we could atone for brevity in this respect, by illuminating the reader
on the causes that have brought Syria so prominently forward; but on
this point we confess, with shame and confusion of face, that we know
no more than Lord Ponsonby or M. Thiers. The truth seems to be, that
some time, about two or three years ago, five or six people in
influential stations went mad, and our Secretary for Foreign Affairs
took the infection. He showed his teeth and raised his "birse," and
barked in a most audacious manner, till the French kennel answered the
challenge; an old dog in Egypt cocked his tail at the same time, and
the world began to be afraid that hydrophobia would be universal. All
parties were delighted to let