Egypt, indeed, is grand with the sublimity of vast flatness. But now we have the mountains for a happy change, and, after all, the plain cannot please like the hills. Quaint oldness is the feature of Egypt, lovely beauty is the charm of Beyrout. While family ties were cut asunder then with a bloody violence, the bonds of priestcraft were broken by the same rude shock, and people were set free from worn-out crazy systems, to unite again under new associations of religion or nationality. It is scarcely fair to any of these institutions to visit one or two of them and to describe only these, when so many are clustered in the beautiful slope of the town, looking out upon “that goodly Lebanon,” now decked to its waist in purest snow, and skirted below by the azure sea. Every moment of the author's time was soon engaged by kind friends on one side or another.