impressive than amid the growing twilight of the preceding evening. We followed up the deep valley of the Barada and at length reached the verdant plain of Zebedany, an oasis of beauty seven miles long, and from one to three wide, amid the wilderness of barren and desolate mountains by which it is surrounded. It was studded with fruit trees and sweet-briar rose-bushes. We pressed on to the village of Surghaya near which our camp was pitched Near here is a ruined khan, a low, flat-roofed building, with stables on one side and travellers' rooms on the other, with rude fireplaces in the corners. The traveller must bring his own rugs, food, bedding and everything. He finds only shelter in these khans. Our clean and comfortable tents were far prefer

able.

Before dinner we climbed a high hill commanding a broad view, and found some old rock-tombs and exceedingly interesting wine-presses hewn out of the solid rock. Some very ancient levers and rollers for crushing out the wine were still in place. Their use we could not understand till one of the natives in sign language explained the mechanism. The whole mountain side was dotted with sheep and goats, lambs and kids, skipping about in a very lively manner. After dinner we made a tour of the rather squalid Arab village. We were courteously invited to visit the sheikh's house. The sheikh's wife, less reserved than most of her sex in the East, brought cushions for us to sit upon, and showed with much pride what seemed to be a bridal trousseau embroidered in spangles and beads, which she brought from a splendid coffer richly inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Quite an animated conversation took place in signs. It is marvellous how expressive they can be.

We next visited the paltry little bazaar, where the merchant treated us to candy and offered us a puff of his hubble-bubble pipe. He inquired if we came from New York or Brazil, which seemed to be the only places in America that he knew.

On a spur of a neighbouring mountain is the reputed tomb of Seth, the son of Adam, one hundred feet long and ten wide. There were evidently giants on the earth in those days. The Moslems themselves, while exceedingly credulous, write such stories as make credulity ridiculous. Of this the following, as told us by Dr. Jessop, is an example:

"A certain Sheikh Mohammed was the guardian of the tomb of a noted saint. Pilgrims thronged to it from every side, and Mohammed grew rich from their costly offerings. At length his servant Ali, dissatisfied with his meagre share of the revenue, ran away to the east of the Jordan, taking his master's donkey. The donkey died on the road, and Ali, having

covered his body with a heap of stones sat down in despair. A passenger asked why he sat thus in lonely grief? He replied that he had found the tomb of an eminent saint. The man kissed the stones, and giving Ali a present, passed on. The news of the holy shrine spread through the land. Pilgrims thronged to Ali, who soon grew rich, built a fine dome and was the envy of all the sheikhs. Mohammed, hearing of the new shrine, and finding his own eclipsed by its growing popularity, made a pilgrimage to it, in hopes of ascertaining the source of its great repute. On finding Ali in charge he whispered to him, and asked the name of the saint whose tomb he had in charge. I will tell you,' said Ali, 'on the condition that you tell me the name of your saint.' Mohammed consenting, Ali whispered, 'This is tomb of the donkey I stole from you.' 'And my shrine is the tomb of that donkey's father,' said Mohammed."

It was a glorious ride over the crest of anti-Lebanon to Baalbec. We were going over a sort of hog's-back ridge, when a magnificent view of the whole valley of Colo-Syria, or Hollow Syria, burst upon our sight, with the magnificent background of the Lebanon range crowned with snowy peaks of dazzling whiteness in the morning sun. The fertile valley between the Lebanon and the Anti-Lebanon ranges is watered by a branch of the Litany, the largest river in northern Syria.

As we rode along we observed an example of women's rights

in this country, a graceful girl ploughing a stony hillside field. As we approached she drew her veil closely over her face, permitting only her black, flashing eyes to be seen, and stood like a startled fawn at gaze.

Shortly after noon we reached the squalid modern town of Baalbec, the site of the most stupendous ruins in all Syria, or with the exception of Karnak, perhaps, in the world. From afar loomed up high above all surrounding objects, the six lonely columns with the shattered frieze shown in our initial cut. Once seen they haunt the imagination forever as probably the most impressive architectural fragment of the old Roman world remaining on earth. The Acropolis of Baalbec, surrounded by gardens, rises to the west of the little town. The great temple area was nearly one 1,000 feet in length and 450 feet wide, about the same size as that at Karnak. A broad flight of steps, 150 feet in length and 50 feet wide, led up to the great eastern portico. This portico was a majestic structure, 180 feet long and 37 feet deep, a fitting entrance to the great temple area behind. Beneath this are colossal vaults, far older than the Roman times, with richly carved bosses at the intersections of the groined arches. They have long been used as a shelter for flocks and herds. Here we entered, paying a Turkish dollar each for the privilege.

Flanking the portico are huge towers, built of massy stones, some of them twenty feet long, adorned with pilasters, niches and cornices. The upper parts were battlemented and fortified by the Saracens. The rear wall of the portico is 19 feet in thickness, also built of massive stones. Behind this is a hexagonal hall, 250 feet wide, with lofty chambers on every side, once adorned with stately columns; it is now, however, a mass of crumbled ruins.

A noble portal, 50 feet wide, gives admission to the great court, a quadrangle 440 feet long and 370 wide. This court is surrounded by rectangular or circular recesses, or chambers like that shown in the engraving on page 424; these were elaborately decorated with richly carved columns and scrolls, and columns of syenite from Upper Egypt. Fronting this, on the west, was the great Temple of the Sun, on a platform 300 feet long and 240 wide, and surrounded by a peristyle 290 feet long, 160 broad, consisting of fifty-four columns, 7 feet thick, 62 feet high, supporting an entablature some 18 feet in height, 80 feet above the base, and 130 feet above the level of the plain. All that remains of that magnificent peristyle are six columns with their entablature, "standing," says Dr. Thompson, "among the

most wonderful ruins man has ever seen and the like of which he will never again behold."

The capitals are of Corinthian architecture, richly sculptured. The gigantic shafts are in three sections, each over twenty feet in length. The ground is strewn far and wide with the massy drums and capitals and bases, with huge masses of the frieze-all that is left of the greatest temple, save that of Karnak, ever erected for the worship of the Supreme Being. For beyond the brightness of the sun, these mighty builders recognized the Lord of Light and Supreme Giver of Life. In 1751, nine of these columns were standing. Some of those still left are partly undermined, and only a tremor of earthquake is needed to hurl them prostrate with the rest.

About sixty yards distant is the smaller temple, dedicated to Jupiter-smaller, that is, as compared with the vast Temple of the Sun, but it is actually, says Dr. Thompson, "the largest, the most perfect, and the most magnificent temple in Syria, and is only surpassed in beauty of architecture, through not in size, by the Parthenon in Athens." It was 225 feet long, including colonnades, and 125 feet wide, surrounded by forty-two columns, 5 feet in diameter and 58 feet high. Its great portal, shown in our frontispiece, even in its ruin is of surpassing beauty, 21 feet wide and 42 feet high, though a large portion of it is filled up with rubbish. In 1751 it was still perfect, but shortly after