perfume than in other lands, so does the Bath bestow a superior
purification and impart a more profound enjoyment.

Listen not unto the lamentations of travellers, who complain of the heat,
and the steam, and the dislocations of their joints. They belong to the
stiff-necked generation, who resist the processes, whereunto the Oriental
yields himself body and soul. He who is bathed in Damascus, must be as
clay in the hands of a potter. The Syrians marvel how the Franks can walk,
so difficult is it to bend their joints. Moreover, they know the
difference between him who comes to the Bath out of a mere idle curiosity,
and him who has tasted its delight and holds it in due honor. Only the
latter is permitted to know all its mysteries. The former is carelessly
hurried through the ordinary forms of bathing, and, if any trace of the
cockney remain in him, is quite as likely to be disgusted as pleased.
Again, there are many second and third-rate baths, whither cheating
dragomen conduct their victims, in consideration of a division of spoils
with the bath-keeper. Hence it is, that the Bath has received but partial
justice at the hands of tourists in the East. If any one doubts this, let
him clothe himself with Oriental passiveness and resignation, go to the
Hamman el-Khyateen, at Damascus, or the Bath of Mahmoud Pasha, at
Constantinople, and demand that he be perfectly bathed.

Come with me, and I will show you the mysteries of the perfect bath. Here
is the entrance, a heavy Saracenic arch, opening upon the crowded bazaar.
We descend a few steps to the marble pavement of a lofty octagonal hall,
lighted by a dome. There is a jet of sparkling water in the centre,
falling into a heavy stone basin. A platform about five feet in height
runs around the hall, and on this are ranged a number of narrow couches,
with their heads to the wall, like the pallets in a hospital ward. The
platform is covered with straw matting, and from the wooden gallery which
rises above it are suspended towels, with blue and crimson borders. The
master of the bath receives us courteously, and conducts us to one of the
vacant couches. We kick off our red slippers below, and mount the steps to
the platform. Yonder traveller, in Frank dress, who has just entered, goes
up with his boots on, and we know, from that fact, what sort of a bath he
will get.

As the work of disrobing proceeds, a dark-eyed boy appears with a napkin,
which he holds before us, ready to bin