p the idea
altogether, and to proceed instead to Balbeck and to the heights of
Lebanon.

At the hour of noon we rode out of the gate of Damascus in company
with Count Zichy. The thermometer stood at 40 degrees Reaumur. Our
procession presented quite a splendid appearance; for the pacha had
sent a guard of honour to escort the Count to Balbeck, to testify
his respect for a relation of Prince M---.

At first our way led through a portion of the bazaar; afterwards we
reached a large and splendid street which traverses the entire city,
and is said to be more than four miles in length. It is so broad,
that three carriages can pass each other with ease, without
annoyance to the pedestrians. It is a pity that this street, which
is probably the finest in the whole kingdom, should be so little
used, for carriages are not seen here any more than in the remaining
portion of Syria.

Scarcely have we quitted this road, before we are riding through
gardens and meadows, among which the country-houses of the citizens
lie scattered here and there. On this side of the city springs also
gush forth and water the fresh groves and the grassy sward. A stone
bridge, of very simple construction, led us across the largest
stream in the neighbourhood, the Barada, which is, however, neither
so broad nor so full of water as the Jordan.

But soon we had left these smiling scenes behind us, and were
wending our way towards the lonely desert. We passed several
sepulchres, a number of which lie scattered over the sandy hills and
plains round us. On the summit of one of these hills a little
monument was pointed out to us, with the assertion that it was the
grave of Abraham. We now rode for hours over flats, hills, and
ridges of sand and loose stones; and this day's journey was as
fatiguing as that of our arrival at Damascus. From twelve o'clock
at noon until about five in the evening we continued our journey
through this wilderness, suffering lamentably from the heat. But
now the wilderness was passed; and suddenly a picture so lovely and
grand unfolded itself before our gaze, that we could have fancied
ourselves transported to the romantic vales of Switzerland. A
valley enriched with every charm of nature, and shut in by gigantic
rocks of marvellous and fantastic forms, opened at our feet. A
mountain torrent gushed from rock to rock, foaming and chafing among
mighty blocks of stone, which, hurled from above, had here found
their res