shallow harbour of Cittium existed on the east side of modern Larnaca; whether from a silting of the port, or from the gradual alteration in the level of the Mediterranean, the old harbour no longer exists, but is converted into a miserable swamp, bordered by a raised beach of shingles upon the seaboard. The earth has been swept down by the rains, and the sand driven in by the sea, while man stood idly by, allowing Nature to destroy a former industry. All the original harbours of the country have suffered from the same neglect.

There was little to be seen in the neighbourhood. The site was pointed out where the troops were encamped in the tremendous heat of July in the close vicinity of the swampy ground, upon pestiferous soil, and the usual tales of commissariat blunders were recounted. Close to the borders of this unhealthy spot, but about twenty feet above the level of the lowest morass, stands the convent belonging to the Sisters of Charity, which includes a school, in addition to a hospital. Great kindness was shown by these excellent ladies to many English sufferers, and their establishment deserves a liberal support from public contributions.

I walked through the bazaar of Larnaca; this is situated at the west end of the town near the fort, close to which there is a public fountain supplied by the aqueduct to which I have already alluded. Brass taps were arranged around the covered stone reservoir, but I remarked a distressing waste of water, as a continual flow escaped from an uncontrolled shoot which poured in a large volume uselessly into the street. Within a few yards of the reservoir was a solitary old banian tree (ficus religiosa), around which a crowd of donkeys waited, laden with panniers containing large earthen jars, which in their turn were to be filled with the pure water of the Arpera springs.

Although the crowd was large, and all were busied in filling their jars and loading their respective animals, there was no jostling or quarrelling for precedence, but every individual was a pattern of patience and good humour. Mohammedans and Cypriotes thronged together in the same employment, and the orderly behaviour in the absence of police supervision formed a strong contrast to the crowds in England.

The Mosque being within a few feet of them, the Mussulmans could perform their ablutions at the threshold. Around the font, women were intermingled with a crowd of men and boys. The girls and lads were regular in features and good-looking, though dirt and torn clothing of various gaudy colours gave a picturesque, but hardly an attractive, appearance to the group. The bazaar was entered at right angles with the quay; the streets were paved with stones of irregular size, sloping from both sides towards the centre, which formed the gutter. Camels, mules, bullock-carts, and the omnipresent donkeys thronged the narrow streets, either laden with produce for the quay, or returning after having delivered their heavy loads. The donkeys were very large and were mostly dark brown, with considerable length of hair. In like manner with the camels, they were carefully protected by thick and well stuffed packs, or saddles, and were accordingly free from sores. They appeared to be exceedingly docile and intelligent, and did not require the incessant belabouring to which the ass of other countries is the victim. Large droves of these animals, each laden with three heavy squared stones for building, picked their way through the narrow streets, and seemed to know exactly the space required for their panniers, as they never collided with either carts or passengers.

The shops of the bazaar were all open, and contained the supplies usually seen in Turkish markets—vegetables, meat, and a predominance of native sweets and confectionery, in addition to stores of groceries, and of copper and brass utensils. An absence of fish proved the general indolence of the people; there is abundance in the sea, but there are few fishermen.

An hour's stroll was quite sufficient for one to form an opinion of Larnaca. A good roadstead and safe anchorage offer great advantages, but until some protection shall be afforded that will enable boats to land in all weathers Larnaca can never be accepted as a port. There is shoal water for a distance of about two hundred yards from the shore, which causes a violent surf even in a moderate breeze, and frequently prevents all communication with the shipping. The quay was in many places undermined by the action of the waves, and it would be necessary to create an entirely new front by sinking a foundation for a sea-wall some yards in advance of the present face. There would be no engineering difficulty in the formation of a boat-harbour, to combine by extensive pile-jetties the facility of landing in all weathers. A very cursory view of Larnaca exhibited a true picture of its miserable financial position. The numerous stores kept by Europeans were the result of a spasmodic impulse. There was no wholesome trade; those who represented the commercial element were for the most part unfortunates who had rushed to Cyprus at the first intelligence of the British occupation, strong in expectations of a golden harvest. The sudden withdrawal of the large military force left Larnaca in the condition of streets full of sellers, but denuded of buyers. The stores were supplied with the usual amount of liquors, and tins of preserved provisions; none of the imported articles were adapted for native requirements; an utter stagnation of trade was the consequence, and prices fell below the cost of home production. The preceding year had been exceptionally sickly; many of the storekeepers were suffering from the effects of fever, which, combined with the depression of spirits caused by ruined prospects, produced a condition of total collapse, from which there was only one relief—that of writing to the newspapers and abusing the Government and the island generally.

There must always be martyrs—somebody must be sacrificed—whether burnt at the stake for religious principles, or put in a bell-tent in the sun with the thermometer at 110 degrees Fahr. simply because they are British soldiers—it does not much matter—but the moment your merchants are slain upon the altar, the boiling-point is reached.

The store-keepers sat despondingly behind their counters while the hinges of their doors rusted from the absence of in-comers. It was impossible to rouse them from their state of mercantile coma, except by one word, which had a magnetic effect upon their nervous system—-"Custom House."

"I suppose you have no difficulty at the Custom House, Mr.—in this simple island?" This was invariably the red rag to the bull.

"No difficulty, Sir!—no difficulty?—it is THE difficulty—we are absolutely paralysed by the Custom House. Every box is broken open and the contents strewed upon the ground. The duty is ad valorem upon all articles, and an ignorant Turk is the valuer. This man does not know the difference between a bootjack and a lemon-squeezer: only the other day he valued wire dish-covers as `articles of head-dress,' (probably he had seen wire fencing-masks). If he is perplexed, he is obliged to refer the questionable article to the Chief Office,—this is two hundred yards from the landing place:—thus he passes half the day in running backwards and forwards with trifles of contested value to his superior, while crowds are kept waiting, and the store is piled with goods most urgently required." . . .

I immediately went to see this eccentric representative of Anglo-Turkish political-and-mercantile-combination, and found very little exaggeration in the description, except that the distance was 187 paces instead of 200 which he had to perform, whenever the character of the article was beyond the sphere of his experience. As this happened about every quarter of an hour, he could not complain of a sedentary employment. A