lies down and rolls over, pinning me, for a moment, to the ground, in dangerous proximity to the prancing steeds. Truly, "a horse is a vain thing for safety." All are again mounted, after this little episode, when a storm of hail beats about our heads, followed by rain. It is hard riding over some of the rough places where we cannot walk. During our luncheon, in a wild, romantic spot, the gentlemen are obliged to hold their horses, lest another outbreak should occur.

We are passing over a high bluff at half-past four o'clock in the afternoon, when lo! at our feet, a swift-rolling, turbid, yellow stream, with steep banks rising on the opposite shore! It is the Euphrates-" that Great River"-along whose flowery path our first parents strayed in the happy days of primeval innocence. How changed the face of nature since that blissful time! It oppresses one with a feeling of sadness akin to that of the captives who hung their harps upon the willows which shaded its banks in faraway Babylon, and sat down to weep, saying, "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" The river has evidently receded from its bed; it is not more than a quarter of a mile wide at this point, and the shore is so devoid of vegetation, that one can scarcely find a leaf or flower worthy of preservation as a memento.

The rude ferry-boat now touches the land, and we scramble in; the higher order of creation taking possession of a narrow elevation at the upper end, while the lower order, in the shape of horses, mules, donkeys, etc., fill the larger space within the clumsy old "scow." The men push off with their long poles, and it is slowly worked across the rushing, muddy current.

We are all safely landed, scale the steep ascent, and pass

through a quaint, yet pleasant place called "Gaban Maden," where vegetation is rank, and trees are very abundant. A helper is stationed here, at whose house we spend the night. While we are resting, Mr. Richardson, of Arabkir, makes his appearance, giving us another pleasant surprise. Maden is one of his out-stations, and he has come to meet us, and look after it. Mr. Barnum is now holding an evening service in the humble chapel. We find that the helper's wife, who was for eight months in the school at Harpoot, has twenty pupils, whom she teaches three days each week. After some conversation with her and a few Protestant women who have called to see us, we partake of a simple supper, followed by evening worship, when we join in singing, "Thus far the Lord hath led me on," and raise another "Ebenezer" to His praise. Our good host and hostess are very kind, but evidently somewhat puzzled to provide lodgings for so many guests; and they have sent out to borrow some beds of their neighbors! We seem to have come into another climate; it is so warm that most of our party prefer sleeping in the open air, where, however, they fall an easy prey to the gnats and sand-flies, who have already commenced their Summer carnival.

THE TWENTY-FIRST, AND LAST DAY.

It is now Friday, the 6th of May, and the last day of our journey! We start at an early hour in the morning, and passing out of the town, are soon clattering over the atrocious “Turkish pavement," on a side-hill, above the rapid stream at our right. Here we meet " Asiz Pasha," with his harem and train of attendants. There are three "moffahs," (covered boxes, with seats, swung over a horse's back,) for the favored beau

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ties, and the rest are carefully veiled, and mounted on horses or mules. The stones of the pavement are broad, and worn so smooth, that our horses are constantly slipping, and one of them falls; it is hardly safe to ride, and yet we can scarcely maintain our own footing, and might easily be precipitated into the roaring current below! My horse has lost one of his shoes, and the other makes a painful clattering, soon following its companion. We are two or more hours in passing over this part of the road, and gladly leave it to enter upon the plain.

It is a long day; and when, at last, it draws to a close, and the lights and shadows of evening begin to play over hill, and vale, and mountain, we spy our Harpoot friends watching for us upon the summit of a hill. Mr. Wheeler is there at the head of the Girls' School; Mr. Allen with the young men of the Seminary, and Mrs. Allen and Mrs. Barnum, mounted on white donkeys :-Besides the pastor and his wife, (one of my former pupils,) and a crowd of men, women, and children of the Sunday-School and day-schools, who greet us with a joyous song of welcome. The meeting with these brothers and sisters is like a home-reception at "Thanksgiving time!"

Slowly, slowly, the procession winds around the numerous hills, over a narrow road built by the students;—with here and there glimpses of the vast plain which stretches a thousand feet below the barren, rocky heights upon which the city is built, and the snow-capped mountains beyond, which enclose that "GARDEN OF EDEN,"-with its many villages peeping out from their trees and vineyards!-Gladly we turn the last curve, pass the Chapel and Seminary, around the corner by the "Barnum cottage," and into the

court-yard of the Konak, where we meet the smiling face of Mrs. Wheeler, who helps us up the steps into her cosy parlor, and bids us WELCOME TO HARPOOT!'

At last, we have reached the goal of our hopes: the point to which our longing eyes have been directed for nearly three weeks! It now seems to me that I shall be compelled to stay here the rest of my days; that nothing would tempt me to retrace the weary way, especially that climax of slipping, and straining of nerves and muscles, in the fearful road by Maden. It is an aggravation to think that the distance of 350 or 400 miles, which we have traversed, as it were by inches, could easily have been accomplished by rail within twenty-four hours! That, had the Turks a spark of modern enterprise, there might be a railway direct from Trebizond, a distance of 175 miles, and the entire journey from Constantinople would require but from three to four days!

CHAPTER XI.

EDEN.

E are recovering from the reaction which invariably follows a prolonged period of travel in this country, and the excitement consequent upon finding ourselves in a strange place, amid new surroundings. It is not easy for some natures to transplant their interests and affections; and as we look out upon this dingy, treeless city of Harpoot, where houses, walls, and streets are of one uniform clay-color, our thoughts lovingly and yearningly turn toward the green shades of Marsovan; and the dreary prospect before us sends momentary tides of desolation through the heart. But we ascend to a higher plane of vision, standing upon the flat-roof of the konak, and looking southward, beyond our immediate surroundings, upon a smiling plain a thousand feet below, which extends a distance of 60 miles from East to West, dotted all over with towns and villages, and encircled by magnificent mountain ranges, whose snow-crowned summits, sixty miles away, tower above their less stately neighbors. A lovely lake, like that of Galilee, sleeps within their embrace; a branch of the Euphrates curves its gleaming arm around this wondrous mosaic of emerald and agate, carnelian and onyx, with the golden sunlight resting upon embowered villages, of which we count

we