nibal Islands has not in his
library a more absurd volume than this manual; for in its pages
pathetic bagmen give vent to their ludicrous ebullitions concerning
the Alhambra, or the Rhine, or any foreign lion you please to name;
and young boys just escaped from school dish up their first
impressions of the Continent in a style as savoury as the flavour of a
Spanish olla podrida. And yet, ascend the Rhine, go to Venice or to
St. Petersburg, and ten to one for the chance, that when you meet an
Englishman he will have that eternal manual clutched in his British
grasp.

Oh, my dear and well-beloved countrymen, what creatures of fashion and
precedent we all are, from high to low! What one does, the rest must
do; and in the self-same manner. I verily believe, if the late Albert
Smith had left it on record that, in ascending Mont Blanc, he planted
his foot in a certain hole in the snow, every one of his successors in
that glorious undertaking would have paid their guides an extra dollar
for indicating to them the identical cavity, that they might go and do
likewise. Thank goodness, Algeria is as yet encumbered by no manual or
"Hand-book," as our modern Germanised phraseology elects to call the
egregious productions; so shall we travellers be at liberty to follow
our own noses, to go exactly where we like, and to do what we please,
even to dressing like Arabs, should the whim seize us. Moreover, we
may do in Rome as Rome does, and enjoy a French breakfast washed down
with good wine in lieu of bad tea, without having ourselves or our
proceedings stigmatised as "shocking," as would undoubtedly be our lot
at Paris, or Brussels, or Berlin.

Behold us, then, in happy hour, ready to disembark in Algiers, with
the children of the desert thronging on board to act as porters. Their
appearance pleases me much, as they come forward, with their tall,
striking figures, dark eyes, and distinguished mien. "Perfect
gentlemen, these," said I to myself; but beneath the outside crust
little remains that can be called gratifying. These men are like the
apple of Sodom; at least, so I thought on landing, after a long
squabble with them respecting the passage money, carried on in bad
Italian and French. A nearer acquaintance with them may, perhaps,
modify my views on this subject.

"Well, it has been a pleasant time on board the packet," is my parting
reflection as I step ashore; nor shall I lightly forget the captain,
so different in his politen