And
whether in Beirut or in New York, even the moralists and reformers,
like the hammals and grocers, will ask themselves, before they
undertake to do anything for you or for their country, "What will this
profit us? How much will it bring us?" And that is what Khalid once
thought to oppose and end. Alas, oppose he might--and End He Must. How
can an individual, without the aid of Time and the Unseen Powers, hope
to oppose and end, or even change, this monstrous mass of things? Yet
we must not fail to observe that when we revolt against a tendency
inimical to our law of being, it is for our own sake, and not the
race's, that we do so. And we are glad we are able to infer, if not
from the K. L, MS., at least from his Letters, that Khalid is
beginning to realise this truth. Let us not, therefore, expatiate
further upon it.

If the reader will accompany us now to the cellar to bid our Syrian
friends farewell, we promise a few things of interest. When we first
came here some few years ago in Winter, or to another such underground
dwelling, the water rose ankle-deep over the floor, and the mould and
stench were enough to knock an ox dead. Now, a scent of ottar of roses
welcomes us at the door and leads us to a platform in the centre,
furnished with a Turkish rug, which Shakib will present to the
landlord as a farewell memento.

And here are our three Syrians making ready for the voyage. Shakib
is intoning some verses of his while packing; Im-Hanna is cooking
the last dish of _mojadderah_; and Khalid, with some vague dream
in his eyes, and a vaguer, far-looming hope in his heart, is
sitting on his trunk wondering at the variety of things Shakib is
cramming into his. For our Scribe, we must not fail to remind the
Reader, is contemplating great things of State, is nourishing a great
political ambition. He will, therefore, bethink him of those in
power at home. Hence these costly presents. Ay, besides the plated
jewellery--the rings, bracelets, brooches, necklaces, ear-rings,
watches, and chains--of which he is bringing enough to supply the
peasants of three villages, see that beautiful gold-knobbed ebony
stick, which he will present to the vali, and this precious gold cross
with a ruby at the heart for the Patriarch, and these gold fountain
pens for his literary friends, and that fine Winchester rifle for the
chief of the tribe Anezah. These he packs in the bottom of his
trunk, and with them his precious dilapidated copy of