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plastered and entirely colored. The Parthenon frieze was colored; all the backgrounds of their bas-reliefs were painted.”

At this point of his travels the interest of the journal, so far as Greek antiquities are concerned, ceases. The author met with little more of a very attractive nature, although he passed through districts absolutely covered with crumbling remains of former ages ; more leisure only was needed, however, we believe, to have invested every square mile of such a country with the deepest interest. At Isium, near Myra, he exclaims, " What a wonderful people the ancient Greeks were! This mountain country was literally strewed with cities and stately towers, which stand uninjured and unoccupied two thousand years after their builders are removed.” From the last mentioned place Mr. Fellows turned his face toward the interior in a northerly course, and then bending to the west over the highlands, returned to Macry on the seacoast, whence, after an excursion to Rhodes, he made his way circuitously to Smyrna. With more pages at our command, we should have traced his whole journey as minutely as we have parts of it; especially should we have indulged in many extracts, descriptive of the present manners of the modern inhabitants of these beautiful regions — beautiful indeed, if we may fully trust the pictures - word-pictures — the author gives us of its scenery. We give a single passage to show the effect of the beauty of this country upon the author's mind.

“ My tent is pitched about twenty miles up the valley of the ancient Arycandus to the north of Limyra. A journal after all is only a register of the state of the mind as impressed by the objects of the day; I shall therefore not hesitate to describe my own feelings, and confess I never felt less inclined or less able to put to paper any remarks, than the impressions produced by my ride during the last five hours. I have heard others speak of a melancholy being caused by the overwhelming effect of the sublime; but it is not melancholy when better analyzed ; it is a thoughtfulness and feeling of gratified pleasure, which affects me; and I long to express what perhaps is better indicated by the prostration of the Oriental worshipper, than by any verbal description ; I feel as if I had come into the world, and seen the perfection of its loveliness and was satisfied. I know no scenery equal in sublimity and beauty to this part of Lycia.

"". The mere mention of mountain scenery cannot give any

idea of the mountains here, which are broken into sections, forming cliffs, whose upheaved strata stand erect in peaks many thousand feet high, uniting to form a wild chaos, but each part harmonized by the other; for all is grand, yet lovely. Deep in the ravines dark torrents of the purest water, and over these grow the most luxuriant trees; above are the graver forests of pines upon the gray cliffs ; and higher than these are ranges capped with snow, contrasting with the deep blue of the cloudless sky."

We close our brief and imperfect notice of this valuable work with one more extract, descriptive of the primitive pastoral habits of the present inhabitants.

“The interest of our halt (at Yeeilassies among the mountains) was greatly increased by our observing an almost uninterrupted train of cattle and people, moving from the valleys to the cool places for the summer season — the Yeeilassies. I was much struck by the simplicity and patriarchal appearance of the several families, which brought forcibly to mind the descriptions of pastoral life in Bible history. What a picture would Landseer make of such a pilgrimage! The snowy tops of the mountains were seen through the lofty and dark green fir-trees, terminating in abrupt cliffs many thousand feet of perpendicular height. From clefts in these gushed out cascades, falling in torrents, the sound of which, from their great distance, was heard only in the stillness of the evening, and the waters were carried away by the wind in spray over the green woods, before they could reach their deep bed in the rocky ravines below. In a zigzag course up the wood lay the track leading to the cool places.

"In advance of the pastoral groups were the straggling goats, browsing on the fresh blossoms of the wild almond as they passed. In more steady courses followed the small black cattle, with their calves ; and among them several asses, carrying in saddle-bags those that were too young to follow their watchful mothers. Then came the flocks of sheep and the camels, each with their young; two or three fine-grown camels bearing piled loads of ploughs, tent-poles, kettles, pans, presses, and all the utensils for the dairy; and amidst this rustic load was always seen the rich turkey carpet and damask cushions, the pride even of the tented Turk. Behind these portions of the train I must place, with more finish, the family — the foreground of the picture.

“ An old man, and generally his wife, head the clan which consists of several generations; many of them must have seen

near five score summers on the mountains; the old man, grasping a long stick, leads his children with a firm step. His son, the master of the flocks, follows with his wife; she is often seated on a horse, with a child in her arms, and other horses are led, all clothed with the gay trappings of a Turkish stud. Asses are allotted to the younger children, who are placed amidst the domestic stores, and never without a pet cat in their arms; long tresses of hair hang down their necks, and are kept closely to the head by a circlet of coins. By their side walks the eldest son, with all the air and alacrity of a young sportsman ; over his shoulder hangs a long-barrelled gun, in his hand is the cage of a decoy partridge, and a classic looking hound follows at his heels ; a number of shepherd boys mingle with the flocks and bring up the rear. The gay costume, the varied noises of the cattle, and the high glee attending the party on this annual expedition, must be supplied by the imagination.

" I should think that twenty families passed in succession during our halt, few of them having less than one hundred head of stock, and many had more. In some families, attendants, servants, or farm-laborers were among the cattle, generally with their aprons tied around, in which they carried two or three young kids; they had often over their shoulders a small calf, with all its legs tied together on the breast, exactly as seen in the offerings on the bas-reliefs at Xanthus and elsewhere.

“ The longevity of these people in this pastoral country is very remarkable. I am sure that we have seen at least twenty peasants, within the last two days, above a hundred years of age, and apparently still enjoying health and activity of body ; in some instances the mind appeared wandering. An old-looking hag, screaming violently, seized my servant Mania, and asked if he was come to take away her other child for a soldier, for if he were gone, she should have none left to take care of her. The temperate habits of the Turks, as well as some of their customs, may in part account for the prolongation of life in this country. One custom I may mention, as tending to dirninish the cares of age, and to show the excellence of these simple people. When sons grow up and marry, the father gives over to them his flocks and property, and trusts to the known natural affection of his children to take care of him in his declining years; to a son his parents are always his first charge."



The sea is mighty, but a mightier sways
His restless billows. Thou, whose hands have scooped
His boundless gulfs and built his shore, thy breath,
That moved in the beginning o'er his face,
Moves o’er it evermore. The obedient waves,
To its strong motion, roll and rise and fall.
Still from that realm of rain thy cloud goes up,
As at the first, to water the great earth,
And keep her valleys green. A hundred realms
Watch its broad shadow warping on the wind,
And in the dropping shower, with gladness, hear
Thy promise of the harvest. I look forth,
Over the boundless blue, where, joyously,
The bright crests of innumerable waves
Glance to the sun at once, as when the hands
Of a great multitude are upward flung
In acclamation. I behold the ships
Gliding from cape to cape, from isle to isle,
Or stemming toward far lands, or hastening home
From the old world. It is thy friendly breeze
That bears them, with the riches of the land,
And treasure of dear lives, till, in the port,
The shouting seaman climbs and furls the sail.

Bụt who shall bide thy tempest, who shall face
The blast that wakes the fury of the sea ?
Oh God! thy justice makes the world turn pale,
When on the armed fleet, that, royally,
Bears down the surges, carrying war, to smite
Some city, or invade some thoughtless realm,
Descends the fierce tornado. The vast hulks
Are whirled like chaff upon the waves; the sails
Fly, rent like webs of gossamer ; the masts

Sept. Are snapped asunder; downward from the decks, Downward are slung, into the fathomless gulf, Their cruel engines, and their hosts, arrayed In trappings of the battle field, are whelmed By whirlpools, or dashed dead upon the rocks. Then stand the nations still with awe, and pause, A moment, from the bloody work of war.

These restless surges eat away the shores Of earth's old continents, the fertile plain Welters in shallows, headlands crumble down, And the tide drifts the sea-sand in the streets Of the drowned city. Thou meanwhile, afar, In the green chambers of the middle sea, Where broadest spread the waters and the line Sinks deepest, while no eye beholds thy work, Creator! thou dost teach the coral worm To lay his mighty reefs. From age to age, He builds beneath the waters, till, at last, His bulwarks overtop the brine, and check · The long wave rolling from the Arctic pole To break upon Japan. Thou bidst the fires, That smoulder under ocean, heave on high The new-made mountains, and uplift their peaks, A place of refuge for the storm-driven bird. The birds and wafting billows plant the rifts With herb and tree; sweet fountains gush; sweet airs Ripple the living lakes, that, fringed with flowers, Are gathering in the hollows. Thou dost look On thy creation and pronounce it good. Its valleys, glorious with their summer green, Praise thee in silent beauty, and its woods, Swept by the murmuring winds of ocean, join The murmuring shores in a perpetual hymn.

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