range of Taurus, whose great snow-fields gleamed in the sun.  In the afternoon, we reached the old bridge over the Jyhoon, at Adana.  The eastern bank is occupied with the graves of the former inhabitants, and there are at least fifteen acres of tombstones, as thickly planted as the graves can be dug.  The fields of wheat and barley along the river are very rich, and at present the natives are busily occupied in drawing the sheaves on large sleds to the open threshing-floors.

The city is built over a low eminence, and its four tall minarets, with a number of palm-trees rising from the mass of brown brick walls, reminded me of Egypt.  At the end of the bridge, we were met by one of the Quarantine officers, who preceded us, taking care that we touched nobody in the streets, to the Quarantine building.  This land quarantine, between Syria and Asia Minor, when the former country is free from any epidemic, seems a most absurd thing.  We were detained at Adana three days and a half, to be purified, before proceeding further.  Lately, the whole town was placed in quarantine for five days, because a Turkish Bey, who lives near Baias, entered the gates without being noticed, and was found in the bazaars.  The Quarantine building was once a palace of the Pashas of Adana, but is now in a half-ruined condition.  The rooms are large and airy, and there is a spacious open divan which affords ample shade and a cool breeze throughout the whole day.  Fortunately for us, there were only three persons in Quarantine, who occupied a room distant from ours.  The Inspector was a very obliging person, and procured us a table and two chairs.  The only table to be had in the whole place—­a town of 15,000 inhabitants—­belonged to an Italian merchant, who kindly gave it for our use.  We employed a messenger to purchase provisions in the bazaars; and our days passed quietly in writing, smoking, and gazing indolently from our windows upon the flowery plains beyond the town.  Our nights, however, were tormented by small white gnats, which stung us unmercifully.  The physician of Quarantine, Dr. Spagnolo, is a Venetian refugee, and formerly editor of La Lega Italiana, a paper published in Venice during the revolution.  He informed us that, except the Princess Belgioioso, who passed through Adana on her way to Jerusalem, we were the only travellers he had seen for eleven months.

After three days and four nights of grateful, because involuntary, indolence, Dr. Spagnolo gave us pratique, and we lost no time in getting under weigh again.  We were the only occupants of Quarantine; and as we moved out of the portal of the old serai, at sunrise, no one was guarding it.  The Inspector and Mustapha, the messenger, took their back-sheeshes with silent gratitude.  The plain on the west side of the town is well cultivated; and as we rode along towards Tarsus, I was charmed with the rich pastoral air of the scenery.  It was like one of the midland landscapes of England,