rs at length brought us
from the foot to the highest point of Mount Lebanon. Here, for the
first time, we can see the magnitude and the peculiar construction
of the range.

Steep walls of rock, with isolated villages scattered here and there
like beehives, and built on natural rocky terraces, rise on all
sides; deep valleys lie between, contrasting beautifully in their
verdant freshness with the bare rocky barriers. Farther on lie
stretched elevated plateaux, with cows and goats feeding at
intervals; and in the remote distance glitters a mighty stripe of
bluish-green, encircling the landscape like a broad girdle--this is
the Mediterranean. On the flat extended coast several places can be
distinguished, among which the most remarkable is Tripoli. On the
right the "Grove of Cedars" lay at our feet.

For a long time we stood on this spot, and turned and turned again,
for fear of losing any part of this gigantic panorama. On one side
the mountain-range, with its valleys, rocks, and gorges; on the
other the immense plain of Caelosyria, on the verge of which the
ruins of the Sun-temple were visible, glittering in the noontide
rays. Then we climbed downwards and upwards, then downwards once
more, through ravines and over rocks, along a frightful path, to a
little grove of the far-famed cedars of Lebanon. In this direction
the peculiar pointed formation which constitutes the principal charm
of these mountains once more predominates.

The celebrated Grove of Cedars is distant about two miles and a half
from the summit of Lebanon; it consists of between five and six
hundred trees: about twenty of these are very aged, and five
peculiarly large and fine specimens are said to have existed in the
days of Solomon. One tree is more than twenty-five feet in
circumference; at about five feet from the ground it divides into
four portions, and forms as many good-sized trunks.

For more than an hour we rested beneath these ancient monuments of
the vegetable world. The setting sun warned us to depart speedily;
for our destination for the night was above three miles away, and it
was not prudent to travel on these fearful paths in the darkness.

Our party here separated. Count Zichy proceeded with his attendants
to Huma, while the rest of us bent our course towards Tripoli.
After a hearty leave-taking, one company turned to the right and the
other to the left.

We had hardly held on our way for half an hour, before one of th