Zenobia | Page 8

upon a
provincial city, a dependant upon almighty Rome. It soon sank below
the horizon, as its glory had sunk once before.
I will not detain you long with our voyage, but will only mark out its
course. Leaving the African shore, we struck across to Sicily, and
coasting along its eastern border, beheld with pleasure the towering
form of Aetna, sending up into the heavens a dull and sluggish cloud of
vapors. We then ran between the Peloponnesus and Crete, and so held
our course till the Island of Cyprus rose like her own fair goddess from
the ocean, and filled our eyes with a beautiful vision of hill and valley,
wooded promontory, and glittering towns and villas. A fair wind soon

withdrew us from these charming prospects, and after driving us
swiftly and roughly over the remainder of our way, rewarded us with a
brighter and more welcome vision still--the coast of Syria and our
destined port, Berytus.
As far as the eye could reach, both toward the North and the South, we
beheld a luxuriant region, crowded with villages, and giving every
indication of comfort and wealth. The city itself, which we rapidly
approached, was of inferior size, but presented an agreeable prospect of
warehouses, public and private edifices, overtopped here and there by
the lofty palm, and other trees of a new and peculiar foliage. Four days
were consumed here in the purchase of slaves, camels, and horses, and
in other preparations for the journey across the Desert. Two routes
presented themselves, one more, the other less direct; the last, though
more circuitous, appeared to me the more desirable, as it would take me
within sight of the modern glories and ancient remains of Heliopolis.
This, therefore, was determined upon; and on the morning of the fifth
day we set forward upon our long march. Four slaves, two camels, and
three horses, with an Arab conductor, constituted our little caravan; but
for greater safety we attached ourselves to a much larger one than our
own, in which we were swallowed up and lost, consisting of travellers
and traders, from all parts of the world, and who were also on their way
to Palmyra, as a point whence to separate to various parts of the vast
East. It would delight me to lay before you with the distinctness and
minuteness of a picture, the whole of this novel, and to me most
interesting route; but I must content myself with a slight sketch, and
reserve fuller communications to the time when, once more seated with
you upon the Coelian, we enjoy the freedom of social converse.
Our way through the valleys of Libanus, was like one long wandering
among the pleasure grounds of opulent citizens. The land was every
where richly cultivated, and a happier peasantry, as far as the eye of the
traveller could judge, nowhere exists. The most luxuriant valleys of our
own Italy are not more crowded with the evidences of plenty and
contentment. Upon drawing near to the ancient Baalbec, I found on
inquiry of our guide, that we were not to pass through it, as I had hoped,
nor even very near it, not nearer than between two and three miles. So

that in this I had been clearly deceived by those of whom I had made
the most exact inquiries at Berytus. I thought I discovered great
command of myself, in that I did not break the head of my Arab, who
doubtless, to answer purposes of his own, had brought me thus out of
my way for nothing. The event proved, however, that it was not for
nothing; for soon after we had started on our journey, on the morning
of the second day, turning suddenly round the projecting rock of a
mountain ridge, we all at once beheld, as if a veil had been lifted up,
Heliopolis and its suburbs, spread out before us in all their various
beauty. The city lay about three miles distant. I could only, therefore,
identify its principal structure, the Temple of the Sun, as built by the
first Antonine. This towered above the walls, and over all the other
buildings, and gave vast ideas of the greatness of the place, leading the
mind to crowd it with other edifices that should bear some proportion
to this noble monument of imperial magnificence. As suddenly as the
view of this imposing scene had been revealed, so suddenly was it
again eclipsed, by another short turn in the road, which took us once
more into the mountain valleys. But the overhanging and impenetrable
foliage of a Syrian forest, shielding me from the fierce rays of a
burning sun, soon reconciled me to my loss--more especially as I knew
that in a short time we were to enter upon