horses were so much jaded from the long and toilsome passage through the copsewood, that we encamped beneath the trees at a short distance from the ruinous and abandoned village of Yafufeh. The whole distance from the plateau of Sorgheia down to the Buka'a is uninhabited, and we did not meet a single human being on the road. In the afternoon we climbed the steep ascent on our right. The path ran in sharp and short turns to a considerable height. The summit was bleak and bare, appeared as if rent by an earthquake, and was strewn over with immense detached rocks, between which a most lovely view opened upon the broad valley of the Buka'a and the more distant Lebanon. Light fleecy clouds were covering the summits of Jebel-Sunnin; yet, far off in the northwest, the huge Jebel-Makmel pierced boldly through the vapors hanging round its flanks, and pointed out to us the direction of our route to the cedar-forest and the city of Tripolis. The nearer offsets of the Anti-Lebanon cut off the prospect towards Ba'albek, but the lower plain, with the silver stripe of the river Litany winding along its verdant fields, was distinctly visible for many miles. There is a highly remarkable difference in the aspect of these two parallel mountain-ridges. Some of the higher regions of the Anti-Lebanon are covered with forests, while those of Lebanon are totally bare. The general outline of the former is nearly uniform, except on the south, where the gigantic Jebel-es-Sheik, forming in reality the central mass of both ridges, rises high above the loftiest summits of the Lebanon, being elevated more than nine thousand feet above the level of the Mediterranean. Its huge dome is covered with snow during the greater part of the year, and in its chasms this never disappears. This mountain forms the most striking object in the scenery of Syria. It is seen far off on the sea and from Mount Garizim in Samaria, at a distance of more than eighty miles. It appears as an immense giant, stretching forth towards the north both his mighty arms, the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon. The direct breadth of the latter is only one day's journey on the caravan route by Demas, though the more circuitous road along the Burradá to Ba'albek is double that length. The western slope of the Anti-Lebanon towards the Buka'a is steep, and in some places precipitous. The eastern, on the contrary, forms a succession of narrow plateaus, which are furrowed by fertile valleys, and descend gradually down to the plain of Damascus, the last terrace, whose numerous streams lose themselves in the desert. The Lebanon, on the contrary, has quite a different physiognomy. Throughout its full length from north to south, it presents a high barrier, terminating in a narrow and sharp ridge of a grayish limestone, which on both sides, towards the plain of the Buka'a and the Mediterranean. has a very steep descent. All its lateral valleys are deeper and more narrow than those of the Anti-Lebanon, and its culminating point, Jebel-Makmel, having an ele vation of seven thousand feet, is situated near its northern boundary, while the Jebeles-Sheik rises on the south; and the whole ridge of the Anti-Lebanon gradually sinks down northward to the sandy plain of Homs, where it disappears altogether. While contemplating this grand and beautiful landscape from the heights of the Jebel-es-Zebdany, a thunder-storm had gathered on the opposite heights of Mount Lebanon. The thunder began to roll, and the blue lightning flashed incessantly through the sombre clouds, which had now gathered in heavy masses around the snowcapped peaks of Jebel-Makmel. The tem pest moved across the valley and threatened every moment to burst against the precip itous rocks of the Anti-Lebanon, on which we were standing. We therefore hastened our descent along a zigzag path, conda ing us in a quarter of an hour to Ne Sheet, a small village, inhabited by Mea wileh Muslims, situated on the slope of the mountain, immediately above the plain a Ba'albek. The thunder-storm had n reached the side of the mountain; or clap followed another, and the rain b to pour down like a deluge, when we r rived at the door of the Arab heik poor man seemed quite embarrassed at sudden appearance, as his house was on pied by some Turkish officers, who wer going to Damascus. But all differ were instantly removed. The Ou Bimbashis politely offered us their zduring our short halt, and while the start was raging outside, drenching our made and baggage, we were quite comfortably | pendent as the chiefs of Mount Lebanon. reposing on the divans among the arms and Mar-Kandjar is a venerable-looking man, accoutrements of the Turks. The inde- with a flowing white beard and a shrewd fatigable Mustapha, in the mean time, pre- countenance. He enjoys the reputation of pared our dinner; and when the thunder- being a brave warrior. The followers of shower had passed over, we, in the refresh- Ali were defeated and almost annihilated ing coolness of the evening, continued our during their bloody feuds with the Druzes descent to the plain. Yet sunset overtook of Mount Lebanon, as I mentioned in anus at two hours' distance from Ba'albek; other place. Their beautiful plain was we therefore took up our quarters for the afterwards ravaged by the army of Ibranight at the village of Bereitan, situated him-Pasha, who had quartered the wild on a spur of the Anti-Lebanon, command- tribes of his Bedouin cavalry in the environs ing a beautiful view towards the plain and of Ba'albek. At last, in 1840, when the the opposite range of the Lebanon. This Anglo-Austrian fleet appeared on the coast, village is likewise inhabited by Metawileh, and Turkish proclamations called on all the whose low, mud-walled houses were clus- mountaineers to revolt against the Egyptering on the steep sides of the hill in such tians, Emir Mar-Kandjar again armed the a manner, that the flat roofs of one range bands of his daring horsemen, who were formed the street of that above. The vil- still dispersed among the villages of the lagers, men, women, and children, came Anti-Lebanon, and uniting with the Druzes thronging around, and followed us to the and Maronites, attacked the retreating sheik, who assigned us one of the best Egyptian army and contributed his part to houses in the village. The inquisitiveness of expel it from the country. the crowds around became now very troublesome, when a handsome young Arab, gaily dressed, and accompanied by some well-equipped horsemen, came galloping up to us, announcing himself as Sidi-Mahmudh, the son of the Emir of Ba'albek. When he saw the despair of Mustapha at not being able to pitch the tents and arrange the baggage, owing to the vexatious curiosity of the idlers around, and the impertinence of the urchins of the village, even beginning to fling stones at the Frank travellers, he threw himself from his horse, and with his whip soon cleared the avenues. He then politely told me that the Emir, his father, invited me to see him at the Kúla'at-the castle. Taking Mustapha with me, I went to the outskirts of the village, where I found the Emir sitting on a carpet before an old tower, smoking his nargiles. He was surrounded by four or five handsome Arabs, whose glittering arms and splendid Iress contrasted most strikingly with the squalidness and misery of the rest of the nhabitants. The young warriors wore arge white turbans, light blue jackets, nd trousers richly laced with gold; and heir beautiful steeds, as gaudily accoured as their riders, were picketed in the djoining court-yard. The present Emir f Ba'albek is Mar-Kandjar, of the old amily of Harfush, who were the feudal ords of the Buka'a, and nearly as inde It seemed to me as if those handsome young horsemen, the sons of the Emir, were the last of that enterprising people, who with thousands of warriors had swept the plain and extended their conquests to the coasts of the sea. I wondered that the old Emir offered me coffee, a pipe, and a seat on his divan, which are rather unusual compliments with the fanatic Metawileh, as all travellers assert that they never invite strangers of another belief, nor think it proper even to touch vessels or utensils used by them. But the late war and the continual intermixture with European travellers have done away with many prejudices, and begun essentially to change the manners of the East. MarKandjar bade us welcome to his country, and told me that we might at our leisure and with perfect safety visit the monuments of Ba'albek. He then drew forth from his girdle an English telescope, a present which he had received during the war from his British allies, and requested me to put the glasses in order. Early next morning, the 26th of May, we departed from Bereitan, and descending to the plain, took a northern direction to Ba'albek. Ridges of swelling hills, the last undulations of the Anti-Lebanon on our right, still for a while cut off our view in front; but on our crossing the last height, the stately temple-ruins in their command of the Orientals, Christians as well as Mohammedans, of their having been a work of the times of Solomon, King of Judah and Israel, who built Hamath and Tadmor in the desert. The outer wall on the north is admirably preserved; it is thirty feet in height. It runs parallel with the platform of the temples, and incloses a deep court or moat, two hundred feet in length, and forty-five in breadth, which is supposed to have served as a viverium or inclosure for the wild beasts, who were kept for the worship of Ba'al, the sun-god, and even in later times for the cruel combats of the sight-loving Romans.* These lions' dens remind us of those kept by the kings of Media and Babylonia in the times of the prophets. The Saracens, after the conquest of Damascus in 636, strongly fortified the temples of Ba'albek. The outer walls were raised higher and strengthened by battlements; on the east, the principal entrance and portico were walled up and ing elevation, like a Gothic castle of the middle ages, and the white dwellings of Ba'albek, with its shattered mosques and broken minarets, now appeared above the surrounding grove at a distance of three miles. Nearer, on our left, was seen a circular ruin supported by columns on a hill behind the village of Duris. We then arrived at the ancient quarries, where the immense blocks of hard limestone had formerly been excavated for the foundations of the temples. Many stones lie perfectly formed for use; others are half cut out from the mountain; and a huge rock, seventy feet in length, though not yet detached from the quarry, is shaped off in an oblong form, and seems to have been designed for the substructure of the larger temple. The city of Ba'albek now lay before us at a short distance. The ancient city walls, which were defended by large square towers, are demolished; but large heaps of stones and dilapidated turrets still indicate their direction along the east-flanked by square towers. During the eru ern heights, and their northward curve inclosing the town. A clear, purling brook, descending from the fountain-head of Rasel-Ain, a couple of miles north of the city, passes around the base of the castle, and taking a south-western course through the plain, discharges itself in the Litany. This rivulet and a scattered grove of walnuts, willows, poplars, and plantains covering its banks and the environs of the temples, highly contributed to enhance the beauty of the scenery; nor is it possible to describe the pleasant sensations it at once called forth. Here we instantly dismounted, and ordering Mustapha to take our horses and attendants to the Greek convent in the town, we crossed the rivulet, and ascended to the temples. They form, together with the spacious courts, sanctuaries and porticoes, an entire acropolis, elevated on an oblong platform, which extends twelve hundred feet in its longest diameter from east to west. The foundations of this platform consist, in some places, of gigantic freestones, between sixty and seventy feet in length. In their enormous dimensions and the similarity of their workmanship, they have a striking resemblance to the substructions of the great platform of the ancient Jewish temple on Mount Moriah at Jerusalem, and thus seem to corroborate the old tradition | sades, Ba'albek was bravely defended by the Saracens, and the Christian knight never succeeded in permanently establish ing themselves in the Buka'a. It is there fore very probable that these early foru cations, and their elevated and strong posttion, may have saved the temples from that destruction to which other more exposed monuments have so frequently been subjected. Indeed this Saracenic military an chitecture of square and octagonal towers. with pointed arches and battlemented p nacles, though in opposition to the more gigantic and graver monuments of Impera Rome, do not a little contribute to the inexpressibly picturesque and romant effect which the castle, as a whole, mak on the beholder on his first approach. The principal entrance was from Ür city on the east, but it is at present structed and closed up by the modern walls. In front of it was the or hexagonal court which is now ver ruinous; but the larger quadrangular F inner court is in better preservation. Fre thence the prospect opens upon the re polis, says: "In the court of the temple are s maining columns of the immense Pantheon, | of the temple now remains. Only six beaudirectly in front, and the smaller but wonderfully preserved temple of Ba'al farther off to the left, while the distant snow-clad ridge of Jebel-Makmel forms a glorious background to this beautiful picture. Both courts present a series of large recesses, alternately square and circular, which seem to have been designed for sanctuaries, and schools of the philosophers and priests, who perhaps had their dwellings in the chambers which are distributed at the angles of the courts. They are all en riched with architectural decorations, with porticoes of four or six columns, tabernacles for busts and elegantly ornamented niches for statues, while a beautiful frieze of bull's heads and wreaths of flowers and fruits, with a boldly projecting cornice above, gives union and firmness to the whole structure. * Over heaps of rubbish and broken columns, nearly hid among luxuriant shrubs and flowers, we forced our way to the great Pantheon, which according to an inscription on the exterior portico was dedicated to Jove and the great gods-diis magnis. This then was the magnificent temple built by Antoninus Pius about the middle of the second century of our era. John of Antioch says, that it was dedicated to Jove and considered one of the wonders of the world. It appears to have been a decastyle, with ten columns in the pronaos and posticum, and nineteen in each of its flanks, after the Roman manner; the whole number being fifty-four. The height of the columns is sixty feet, exclusive of the architrave, and with it seventy-two; their diameter seven feet; and the dimensions of the temple were two hundred and ninety feet in length by one hundred and sixty in breadth. No vestige of the cell or body "A great number of priests wait in the temple, some of whom) slay the victims, others pour out the libations; some are called fire-bearers, others attendants on the altar. When I was there above a hundred of them assisted at the sacrifice. Their garments were white, and they had hats on their heads, except the high priest, who is clothed in purple and wears a tiara: he changes every year." Lucian de Dea Syr. The Olympeion at Athens was larger, being a dipteros decastylos, with one hundred and twenty-eight columns of the Corinthian order. It measured three hundred and fifty-four by one hundred and seventy-two feet; the shaft of the remaining columns is sixty feet, and their diameter seven and a half feet. tiful columns of the rich Corinthian order, forming part of the southern peristyle, are still standing. The others were thrown down by an earthquake in 1759; their bases may be seen on the platform, while the shafts have rolled down below. The columns have not only preserved their Corinthian capitals, but even their architrave and a highly elaborate cornice. They consist of two or three blocks of a red and black granulous granite, and are so perfectly joined together that their junction can scarcely be discovered. These gigantic ruins stand on an elevated platform on the north-western angle of the castle-wall, where three immense blocks of sixty-five feet in length seem to have excited the admiration of ancient as well as modern writers.* At the distance of fifty yards stands the second temple, supposed to be that of Ba'al, the sun-god. It was not inclosed within the great court, and forms now the southwestern corner of the castle; the Saracens having fortified it like the courts and porticoes with towers and battlements, and a strong traverse, which obstructs the view to the elegant door-way on the eastern front. This temple is still in excellent preservation. It had sixteen Corinthian columns, forming a double row on its eastern and western façades, and a peristyle of fifteen on each side, making in all fifty-four, of which twenty-three with their epistylia are standing at the present day; while the bases and lower frusta of many others are either indicating their place or lying in wild confusion around the platform. The outer row of six Corinthian columns on the eastern portico, the principal entrance, is demolished, and its fragments cover the broad staircase leading up to the temple. But the second colonnade is These blocks are sixteen feet in breadth and thirteen feet in height. Such an enormous mass contains, according to Professor Russegger, fourteen thousand five hundred and twenty cubic feet, and weighs about one million two hundred thousand pounds. The Chronicon Alexandrinum, page 303, says that Theodosius converted the great and renowned sanctuary at Heliopolis, that of the Three Stones, rò rpidov, into a Christian Church. This epithet no doubt had reference to the immense substructions of the great Pantheon, thus distinguishing it from the smaller temple of Ba'al. entire, and presents the highly remarkable feature, that the corner columns on the sides are fluted, while the six central shafts are plain. One column, perhaps overturned by an earthquake, is still leaning unbroken against the southern wall of the cell, thus proving the extraordinary solidity and skill with which the ancient architects united the shafts of their columns. The elevation of column and capital is fifty-one feet, eight inches; the diameter five feet. The temple is two hundred and thirty feet in length and one hundred and sixty in breadth. It is composed of a glossy white limestone, quite resembling marble, which in the course of time has assumed that beautiful golden hue, so well suited to enhance the picturesque effect of ancient architecture in the warm coloring of a Syrian sky. mense pilasters of the corners and the twelve fluted three-quarter Corinthian columns, with the intervening niches and tabernacles, surmounted by a rich and elegant entablature adorning the inner wall, give a more distinct idea of the interior cell of an ancient heathen temple; while at the western extremity, the adyton, is seen the raised stage with its arch or canopy, supported by two Corinthian columns, which seem to indicate the marble couch-the sacred thalamos-in which the symbol of Ba'al was screened from the gaze of the adoring multitude. The worshippers of the Sun-god, who from all parts of the eastern world flocked by thousands to Emesa and Ba'albek to offer their precious oblations at the shrine of Ba'al, says Herodian, the historian, had no engraven image, xiporoinrov sixóva, no statue of a human form representing their deity, like the Greeks and Romans. Ba'al was worshipped under the name Helagabal, the procreating god, in the form of a black conical stone, which it was believed had fallen from heaven into the sanctuary of the great temple at Emesa. The color and general appearance of this stone, and the tradition of its having fallen from heaven. evidently proved it to have been a meteorolite. The Emperor Heliogabalus afterwards carried it with him to Rome. The roof of the temple has fallen in; but the coffers of the peristyle-the lacunaria-are still lying in their places, and are ornamented with quite a variety of portraits of Roman Emperors and entire figures from the Grecian mythology, such as Leda caressing the swan, Jove with Ganymede, and Diana armed with bow and arrows. The high door-way on the eastern front leading into the body of the temple is twenty-five feet high by twenty feet broad. Its mouldings and ornaments are of an exquisite and exuberant workmanship, representing beautiful genii Grecian architecture had been my among wreaths of fruits and flowers. On favorite study during a residence of several the lintel, in excellent bas-relief, is seen years at Athens; and my conceptions. an eagle with expanded wings grasping a therefore, of the monuments of Syria were caduceus in his talons, and holding in his not very great. Yet, summoning up the beak the joined ends of two rich garlands, different impressions left on my mind from each of which at the other end is held the contemplation of the gigantic archite by a winged victory. At the tremendous ture of Ba'albek, I must confess that it by earthquake in 1759, the keystone of the far exceeded my expectations in the compelintel forming the eagle gave way, and sink-ratively pure taste and excellent workmaning down eight inches it again became fixed, and is still seen hanging in this threatening position. The interior of the cell is in better preservation than that of any temple I saw in Greece or Italy. It is well known that the only Greek temples which have preserved their cells are those of the Olympian Jove at Akragas, in Sicily, of the Theseum and Parthenon at Athens, and of the Apollo Epicurius in Arcadia, in which latter we still admire the beautiful halfcolumns in the interior. But in the temple of the Sun in Ba'albek, the four im ship of the ornaments and the imposing grandeur of the masses; though it would be improper of course to compare monuments of the age of the Antonines, when t Roman architecture was fast verging to s decline, with the master-pieces of the g rious days of Greece. The noble motaments of the Periclean era stand to thes day alike unrivalled in their differen characters of varied excellence-the m tasteful elegance combined with the most pleasing simplicity-and the vast superior ty of the Pentelic marble to the limestone of the Anti-Lebanon! I will nevertheles |