are enriched with small figures prettily
executed, in a tastefully-carved border of flowers, fruit, ears of
corn, and arabesques. This portal is in very good preservation,
excepting that the keystone has slipped from its place, and hangs
threateningly over the entrance, to the terror of all who pass
beneath. But we entered and afterwards returned unhurt, and many
will yet pass unharmed like ourselves beneath the loose stone. We
shall have returned to dust, while the pendent mass will still see
generation after generation roll on.

This lesser temple would not look small by any means, were it not
for its colossal neighbour. On one side nine, and on the other six
pillars are still erect, besides several pedestals from which the
pillars have fallen. Walls, niches, every thing around us, in fact,
is of marble, enriched with sculptured work of every kind. The
sanctuary of the Sun is separated from the nave of the temple by a
row of pillars, most of them prostrate.

To judge from what remains of both these temples, they must
originally have been decorated with profuse splendour. The
costliest statues and bas-reliefs, sculptured in a stone resembling
marble, once filled the niches and halls, and the remains of
tasteful ornaments and arabesques bear witness to the luxury which
once existed here. The only fault seems to have been a redundancy
of decoration.

A subterranean vaulted passage, two hundred and fifty paces in
length and thirty in breadth, traverses this temple. In the midst
of this walk a colossal head is hewn out of the rocky ceiling
representing probably some hero of antiquity. This place is now
converted into a stable for horses and camels!

The little brook Litany winds round the foot of the hill on which
these ruins stand.

We had been cautioned at Damascus to abstain from wandering alone
among these temples; but our interest in all we saw was so great
that we forgot the warning and our fears, and hastened to and fro
without the least protection. We spent several hours here,
exploring every corner, and meeting no one but a few curious
inhabitants, who wished to see the newly-arrived Franks. Herr S.
even wandered through the ruins at night quite alone, without
meeting with an adventure of any kind.

I am almost inclined to think that travellers sometimes detail
attacks by robbers, and dangers which they have not experienced, in
order to render their narrative more interesting. My journey was