Beyroot, June 27th, 1836.

We had hoped to get out of quarantine to-day, or at least to-morrow, when to our discomfort we heard that they had added four days to our time, owing to information which they had received from Smyrna. There is no better way to manage such matters than patiently to wait until the time is out. But as they give me more of quarantine, I see not why I may not tell you more about it.

Through the kind agency of our consul we were not put in the Lazaretto, which is said to be a miserable place at best, and worse now as the plague is there; but had a very comfortable house assigned us, to the west of the town, on the side of the hill, nearly a quarter of a mile from the walls. The whole side of the hill where we are is cut up in plots, which form gardens planted with trees, and here and there is a dwelling-house. We had all our baggage landed and carried by the crew to our house, except a few boxes, which being wood were not infectious, and were carried by porters. Two guardians are assigned us—one of them must be always at the house, to see that no person touches us, or any of our articles; the other we may send on errands, such as to do our marketing. They are not to touch us, nor we them.

They bring us what we want, lay it down, and we take it. They bring us water, wood, jugs, pitchers, dishes, provisions, fruits: these are not infectious—but cloth, paper, &c. are. They bring us notes, papers, books; but we cannot send such articles without a special observance. For instance, if we wish to send a letter to any one, or a note not as big as your finger, with the name of any article on it which we may need, the guardian may not touch it. He takes a small box; you put it in; he takes it to the health-office, where it is smoked with sulphur, and then it may be received and read. Or, you may write on a small board, or on a slate; the guardian may touch them. While there is care to avoid touching you or anything that conveys infection, there is, in other respects, a free intercourse. We received many visits—our friends come, and sit down, a few feet from us, and remain as long as they please, conversing with us, and thus helping to while away the time. They furnish us with any books that we may need, and we at the end of our quarantine can restore them. We are allowed to walk as much as we please, taking one of our guardians with us, who sees that we touch no one or anything that conveys infection; availing ourselves of this privilege, we have rambled about a good deal, and made ourselves acquainted with the neighbourhood.

To the west and south-west, at a quarter of a mile from the town, commences what may be called the sands, which gave me a better idea of the sands of the desert than anything I have before seen. The whole surface is a bed of fine sand. It includes the highest part of the promontory, and much, if not all the south-west side of it. There is, at places, occasionally, a weed or bush, but much of the surface is very fine sand, which is moved more or less by the wind; and as the wind blows much from the south, the sand has the appearance of approaching nearer and nearer the town—at the place where it stops, and the gardens begin, the sands are a good deal higher than the gardens, ten, fifteen, or twenty feet; and the bank advances, owing to the sand that is carried forward by the wind, and rolls down towards the gardens. Some houses and fields have been covered, and others are in danger, and must soon be overwhelmed with it.

The side of the hill next the city, and west of it, is all cut up into small plots; and much labour has been expended in making these plots level. The side of the hill is thus thrown into terraces one above another, but without any order or regularity. The plots are of various sizes and shapes. A stone wall is built up at the lower side, and the earth drawn to a level. On the tops of the wall is often planted the Indian fig, or prickly pear, which abounds here. Few of these gardens have either flowers or vegetables in them—have, in fact, little else beside mulberry-trees, with a few fig, olive, apricot, pomegranate, and other fruit-trees. From the appearance of the hill side, I am disposed to think, that it was once covered more with houses than it now is—that the levelling of the ground may, in part at least, have been made to fit it for houses, which have now disappeared. There are some old cisterns, pillars, &c., which indicate this.

I have met with several things which struck me with some force, as illustrating Scripture. The roofs of the houses are flat, and a way is made to ascend to the top, which is a most pleasant place for a walk in the cool of the evening. "Samuel called Saul to the top of the house."—1 Sam. ix. 2, 6.

A number of the houses have a kind of a tent on the top, made of reeds, &c., in which they sit, and I believe sleep. "They spread Absalom a tent on the top of the house."—2 Sam. xvi. 22.

There is usually a small railing, or elevation, round the edge, to prevent any from falling over; and the law of Moses required them to make a battlement for this purpose.—Deut. xxii. 8.

While some have tents on the top of the house, others have them out under the trees; and the fig-tree and the vine, having large shady leaves, are very favourable for this. Thus they sit "under their vine and fig-tree." And where they do not use tents they are very fond of sitting out under the trees. They usually take out a straw mat or small carpet, which they spread down; sometimes on this they lay their beds, and sit on them. They have not feather beds, as we have, but a kind of wool mattress, which is easily folded up and removed. Mr. and Mrs. ——, who are of our party, are natives of this place, and hopefully pious. They often take out their mat, and spread it down under a tree, and spend much of the day there. In our walks we see many thus under the vines and fig-trees, whiling away their hours.

Almost every night we hear music and dancing at no great distance from us. The music is hardly worth the name—is a kind of beating, accompanied with some wind instrument, and serves to keep the time. The dancing, as it is called, is not much more than a slow walking, stooping, changing of position. It has none of that active and fatiguing action which dancing has in the western world. The men and women do not join together in it. It is done almost wholly by men; and often old men. The women sit by and look on. The Sabbath night appears more especially a favourite time for this amusement.

The promontory on which Beyroot stands is low at the south-east side, where it joins the main land, and on that low part, which once may have been covered with water (making the promontory an island), there is much sand. On a part of this there are many pines; a few of them are large; and a large space is covered with small ones. There is some care taken of them, and persons are not allowed to pillage them. The larger ones are trimmed up very high, and have a large, flat, bushy top, which gives them a rather singular, but pretty appearance.

The sycamore here is a different tree from that which bears the name with us. The wood is valuable, being hard and very durable. It is a low tree, with a thick body, many branches, shaped a little like the apple-tree, the leaf large. It bears a fruit which is to some extent valuable. One of the prophets said he was "a gatherer of sycamore fruit." It would seem that much of it was used, and gathering of it a business.

There are few, if any, springs here, as we should call them—but wells; at least, in all my walks I have not seen any. There is a low place a little out of the city gate, where there are three or four wells. They are walled up, with a large flat area over them, in the middle of which is a hole, large enough to let down a bucket. There is no pump, or windlass, nor even a well-sweep; but a rope. The vessel used almost constantly for bringing water, is a large jug with two handles, and a small mouth. It may hold from two to four gallons. They tie the rope to the neck or to the handles, and let it down. It fills, and they draw it up. In passing these wells, especially in the evening or morning, you find a crowd of people drawing water. Some have mules and donkeys on which they carry it—usually having four of these water-pots, two swung in a wooden frame on each side of the animal. The others carry the jar on their shoulders, or rather on the back, held over the shoulder; but one hand is raised to support it. You see no one carrying anything in his arms, as is the custom with us, but upon the head or shoulder when not too large, otherwise upon the back—even children are carried in this way—it is amusing to see the little things riding upon their parents' shoulders. There is no vessel attached to these wells; and thus we see the force of the saying of the woman, "Thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep;" and thus Rebecca came "out with her pitcher upon her shoulder." A large proportion of those whom we saw drawing water were females.

The Turks are usually a grave and silent people. They talk less than the Greeks, and indeed than almost any other people that I have been among. It was therefore rather a novelty to meet with one who was of a different cast of temperament. Both our guardians are young Turks, I should think about twenty; and very good-looking. One of them is rather of a grave cast; a genuine Turkish, but withal an unusually mild aspect. The other is as full of life and glee and innocent mischief as he can hold. The first day or two he did not show it much, except in occasionally playing off a little of his humour on his companion. He then began upon Angelo, my Maltese servant, whom I had engaged at Smyrna. The Maltese language is a dialect of the Arabic, and they could therefore converse with him. Our establishment having but two rooms, one of which being occupied by the ladies, and the other by the gentlemen, Angelo had to take up his lodgings in the porch where some of the baggage was placed. The guardians slept in the yard under the tree. They pretended that they would do all sorts of bad things to him at night, and excited his fears not a little. On finding it out I interposed, and assured them, through an interpreter, that if they did not desist from thus working on his fears, I would report them to the police. They assured me they were only in fun, and would not trouble him. Angelo had more spunk than I expected; he got a large knife to defend himself with—we took it from him. I told him to sleep in our room—he would not. I told him to sleep close to the door, which I left open; no, he would sleep at his selected place—and he did.

When we walk out, one of our guardians always walks with us, and generally the lively and talkative one chooses that office. He amuses himself and us in various ways, and usually contrives to put in a claim for a boksheesh (a present) at the close of the walk. As he does not always get it, it is amusing to observe in how many ways he contrives to let us know that it would be very acceptable. At times when he does not get it, he pretends to his companion that he has; and thus has sport with him, in refusing to let him have any part of it. They are very obliging—I have seldom seen more perfect good-humour than they manifest.