THE site of Palmyra was unknown in Europe, and had long been supposed to be irrevocably lost, when, in 1670, some English merchants at Aleppo heard the Bedouins talk much of extensive ruins existing in the desert east of that city, and resolved to acquaint themselves with their position and character: but they fell into the hands of Arabs on the the way, who robbed them, and prevented their proceeding. In the year 1694, however, they made a new and successful attempt. They appear to have been men of intelligence and taste, and had visited Italy and

Greece. They described the ruins as the most numerous they had seen, with the Euphrates beyond them, and a tract of level country, reaching to the horizon, without the appearance of any living thing. The aspect of these ruins is said to be quite peculiar, as they consist almost wholly of a multitude of elegant Corinthian columns, uninterrupted by walls, and extending so far as to be almost undistinguishable.

Strabo, remarks the Magazin Pittoresque, makes no mention of that city; but Pliny thus describes it: Palmyra is remarkable for

its situation, its rich territory and its pleasant streams of water. It is surrounded on all sides by a vast desert, which separates it from the rest of the world, and it has preserved its independence against Rome and the Parthians, whose great care it is, when they are at war, to engage it in their interest.

It is remarkable that the Turks call the city Tedmor, or the city of Palm Trees, which is the name given it by Solomon, its founder, with the slight change of a vowel, which is often nothing in an eastern language. No remains of the original city have been discovered. The wonderful profusion of columns, many of which present long ranges, reaching almost to the horizon, are all of the beautiful Corinthian style prevalent among the Romans about three hundred years before the reign of Diocletian, the faults of which are, that there is a surplus of ornament, and a want of variety.

Little is known of Palmyra after its foundation until the death of Alexander and the time of Selucus Nicator, under whom, and the other Selucidæ, it became very important.

Under the Romans it experienced great vicissitudes, after a long period of prosperity. Odenat, the last Prince of Palmyra, was associated with Gallienus, in his conquests in Persia. He was succeeded by his widow, the celebrated Zenobia, whose minister was the philosopher Longinus. She was the most distinguished queen of her times, but said to be addicted to the enjoyments of the table. In the year 270 of our era, she was conquered by Aurelian and taken to Rome, to grace his triumph; while her minister, notwithstanding his exalted station and learning, was put to death for having dictated the letter in which she refused submission to the relentless enemy. Few practices more strongly display the selfish, tyrannical and implacable character of Romans, than that of dragging in triumphal procession through the streets of their city, across the Forum and up the Capitoline Hill, the victims of their insatiable love of power and plunder. Zenobia is one of the multitude of heart-broken wretches-widows and orphans-whom the traveller at Rome has to recal, as he visits the forum, and wishes to see the end of that spiritual despotism, which is in some respects more widely spread and more ruinous.

Most of the remains of Palmyra are unassignable to definite buildings, owing to the

remarkable predominance of columns, and the fall of many of them. Among the few edifices, plans and designs of which have been traced out, is the triumphal arch represented in our print. This structure, whose light and graceful effect may be partly perceived in its present dilapidated state, stands at one end of a splendid colonnade, which Volney describes, comparing it to "rows of trees, extending so far as to appear in the distance like mere lines drawn upon the ground." This colonnade is 1300 French toises in length, and terminates at the monument of Jamblicus, while in the middle are several large pedestals once supporting other columns.

But the largest distinguishable edifice of the city is the Temple of the Sun, which appears to have been adorned with the greatest splendors of Corinthian architecture. A double row of columns surrounded a fine square, within which stood the temple with two façades, which bear a remarkable resemblance to that of the Louvre, except that the columns are not coupled. Around it is a peristyle of forty-one columns.

Among the mass of ruins extending far on the right and the left of the long colonna de, are those of later buildings, the habitations, mosques and churches of Mahommedans and Christians; and every spectator must feel, at the view, some of those impressions which the history and condition of Palmyra made on the mind of Volney, whom they incited to compose his celebrated work on the "Ruins of Nations." An American traveller, however, and an American reader, better taught the wisdom and the will of God, than even the scholars of Europe, who are generally little acquainted with the Scriptures, will draw very different conclusions, and experience very different feelings from many of those to which he has given utterance.

The City of Bagdad.
From "Keppel's Journey in 1824."

A traveller, coming by water from Bussorah, is likely to be much struck with Bagdad on his first arrival. Having been for some time past accustomed to see nothing but a desert-there being no cultivation on that side of the city by which he arrives-he does not observe any change that would warn him of his approach to a populous city. He continues winding up the Tigris, through all its numerous head-lands, when this once renowned city of gardens bursts suddenly on his sight. Its first view justifies the idea that he

is approaching the residence of the renowned Caliph, Haroun Alraschid, in the height of its splendor; a crowd of early associations rushes across his mind, and seems to reduce to reality scenes which, from boyish recollections, are so blended with magic and fairy lore, that he may for a moment imagine himself arrived at the city of the Enchanters.

The

Bagdad is surrounded by a battlemented wall; the part towards the palace, as was the case in ancient Babylon, is ornamented with glazed tiles of various colors. graceful minarets and the beautiful shaped domes of the mosques are sure to attract his eye. One or two of these are gaudily decorated with glazed tiles of blue, white, and yellow, which, formed into a mosaic of flowers, reflect the rays of the sun. The variegated foliage of the trees of these numerous gardens, which most probably have given the name to the city, serve as a beautiful background to the picture. Thus far the traveller is allowed to indulge his reverie; but, on entering the walls, his vision is dispelled.

The walls are of mud; the streets, which are scarcely wide enough to allow two persons to pass, are so empty that he could almost fancy that the inhabitants had died of the plague. He looks upwards: two dead walls meet his eyes; he now enters the bazaar, and finds that he has no reason to complain of want of population: a mass of dirty wretches render his road almost impassable; with some difficulty, he jostles through a succession of narrow cloistered passages, traversing each other at right angles; the light, which is admitted by holes a foot in diameter from the top, gives to the sallow features of the crowd below a truly consumptive appearance, agreeing well with the close, unwholsome smell of bad ventilation. The traveller, by this time, has seen sufficient to cure him of the dreams of earlier life; and on arriving at his destination, he makes a woful comparison between the reality of the scenes and the picture imagination had drawn. Such, or nearly such, was the impression made by my first arrival at Bagdad.

The interior of a house is much more comfortable than its outward appearance would lead you to expect. The residence of Aga Saikas is not a bad specimen of this; it consists of a succession of square courts, surrounded by galleries, each forming a distinct habitation. In the outer court is a room, or rather a recess, forming three sides of a square, and open towards the front; this, in Persia, is called the Dufter Khoneh (office) where the ordinary business of the day is transacted. The second court is somewhat larger, but of a similar structure, in which is also a recess; this is the audience room. From the galleries are partitioned several rooms, some of which we occupied, having windows opening to the court, formed of small diamond-shaped panes of glass of every color, and disposed in various fantastic shapes. The interior of these chambers is decorated

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in the same style; the ceiling is composed of a kind of trellice-work, describing flowers of different colors. The walls are formed into small arched recesses, of the Arabesque order, and are gilded in a gaudy manner. The number of these courts is increased according to the size of the house-the innermost always comprising the harem, or women's apartments. The few windows that look towards the street are covered with a frame of lattice-work. During the warm weather, the inhabitants sleep on bedsteads placed on the roofs, which are flat and surrounded by parapet walls. As some of the roofs are more elevated than others, those Occupying the highest can observe the women who dwell in the lower apartments; but a stranger will think well before he indulges his curiosity, as a Turk would feel himself justified in sending a ball through the head of his prying neighbor.

I took a walk to the Palace of Otho, which is spoken of as one of the most splendid in Europe. It is built on a gentle eminence about half a mile west of the foot of the Acropolis, towards which it fronts. It is of white marble, taken chiefly from neighboring ruins, and partly from a quarry, and has a fine garden in the rear, extending far towards the base of the mountain. The garden is enclosed with a high paling, through which we could see grounds beautifully laid out, and decorated with native and foreign trees and shrubs. Among them were many plants in bloom, and orange trees laden with fruit. Towards the end the ground becomes oroken and hilly; and there the beauties of nature are studiously imitiated, without leaving traces of art. Wild woods and thickets occupy a great part of the surface, and everything appears as untrained and neglected as in an American forest.

While I devoted the days chiefly to observations on the city and its environs, my evenings were partly occupied with agreeable intercourse with the families of my friends. In the conversations I held with various persons, of different ages, sexes, stations and business, I found myself led, by the curious inquiries of some of them, back to the land I had so lately left. Many questions were started respecting the government, state of society, manners and customs of the United States;

and I was repeatedly drawn into minute descriptions of those points in which this country differs from my own; for, as might naturally be presumed, there was no small difficulty in making the facts appear as plain to them, as experience and observation had made them known to me.

How people could govern themselves, choose and furnish their own rulers, and then submit to those they had chosen, seemed a mystery to most of those I conversed with on the subject, at least when they first began to consider it. Some appeared to have more distinct and practical views of the matter, and soon imbibed them; and from such the exclamation sometimes broke forth: "Why can we not have such government ?" A conclusion, however, in which they generally concurred was, that the mass of the Greeks are decidedly unprepared for such a state of things. All thought it an admirable system, wherever practicable, and one plainly promising great advantages.

The advanced state of the arts often engaged the attention of my auditors; and I was sometimes taxed with queries not a little difficult clearly to answer.

But the subject which perhaps most frequently came up to view, and elicited the most remark, was the benevolence displayed by the Americans in their great philanthropic operations. This was naturally brought up to view by the missionary school of Mr. and Mrs. Hill, supported in Athens for some years by the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States. It is a very useful and deservedly popular institution, but, I found, was regarded with some jealousy by numbers of well-meaning and pretty intelligent persons. Without finding any fault with its plan or operations, they occasionally cast a shadow of suspicion over the objects it had in view. I found their jealousy arose from the difficulty they had in attributing to its founders disinterested motives. How could foreigners, at such a distance, be induced to send money and teachers to educate children whom they had never seen, and never expected to see, merely for the sake of doing them good? It required much conversation, the use of many arguments, and especially the statement of many facts, to convince them that such feelings existed.

Two of the members of our family were absent my father and one of my sisters. The former had gone to our former residence-the town of Vathy, in the island of Samos, to attend to the management of his property, which he still possessd, and was to remain some time longer. My sister had married, and her husband was a resident of Kyme, a town on the farther side of Euboea. That island, which has been called Negropont in modern times, stretches along the eastern coast of Greece for one hundred and twenty miles. Although I was assured by my friends that the way was rough and laborious, the accommodations indifferent, and the season

one of the most unfavorable for travellers, I felt a strong desire to see all the family before my return, and resolved to visit both Samos and Euboea.

I remark that the latter island is sometimes called Negropont. This name is often applied by foreigners-at least, by foreign books; but, as far as I had opportunity to judge, it is not used by my countrymen. I always heard it called Euboea, (pronounced Ev-véa.) Negropont is said to have been formed by a strange corruption, or set of corruptions, from Euripus, the ancient name of the strait which lies between this island and the main land. But little intercourse, I understood, was held between Athens and Euboea, owing to the roughness of the land and the thinness of the population. Travellers, however, were not unfrequently arriving and departing, usually in small parties; and the mail goes, if I recollect, once a week. There are no roads, properly so called, but only paths, made by the few horses which tread them.

Euboea was celebrated for its fertility in ancient times, and the value of its productions. The people were among the earliest navigators of Greece, and founded most of the cities of Ionia, which they could have reached by a short voyage to the west. From what little is known of these things, it seems very probable that the island was colonized by the Phenicians, as Strabo intimates. Homer calls the island Euboea, but always names the inhabitants Abantes.

There is no general history belonging to the island, because it was divided into several independent republics. The principal of these, Chalcis, was conquered by Athens, in a sudden incursion, made soon after the expulsion of the Pisistratides. The pretext was, that the Chalcidians had assisted her enemies, the Baotians. Six thousand Athenian soldiers were then thought necessary to keep that city, but were soon withdrawn, on the approach of a Persian army. The whole island, however, was long subject to Athens, and were reduced to a state of degradation, in spite of several attempts to throw off the yoke. The Spartans, Baotians and Macedonians have, in turn, disputed with the Athenians the possession of Eubœa.

Euboea was early in the revolt against Turkish oppression. In 1821, the inhabitants followed the example of the other great is!ands, headed by my native Samos; and various acts of importance took place here in the course of the war.

From 1824 to 1926 the island was in undisputed possession of the Turks, when the French Philhellene, Colonel Favier, at the head of 1300 of his foreign disciplined corps and 600 Greeks, proceeded from Athens to try the force of skill and civilized warfare against the barbarous invaders. It was at a very critical period, for misfortunes had depressed the hopes of Greece, and a favorable impression would be given by success in a new quarter. They landed at the southern

end of the island, but were soon overpowered by the Turkish forces, and barely escaped by the aid of vessels sent from Egina.

Such is, in brief, a sketch of two portions of the history of the country I was preparing to traverse-presenting nothing very prominent or definite, connected with ancient times, to give me peculiar interest. I naturally, however, looked forward to my journey, as one likely to yield me some fatigue and privations; but, at the same time, the anticipated pleasure of seeing more of my country and my countrymen, and of meeting my friends, almost banished the thought of hardship from my mind.

The road was an important one at several epochs of the late war. Col. Favier passed here in 1826, at the head of his disciplined corps, eager to prove the superiority of civilized warfare, but was unsuccessful in his attempts on Euboea. Through this region, Kiutahi Pacha kept up a communication with the sea, in 1827, until the road was occupied by the Greeks, and his supplies intercepted.

One of my brothers, who was to accompany me, made the arrangements necessary. A man was hired to furnish us with horses, we being expected to pay for our food and lodging. This man made it his business to conduct travellers to the eastern coast of Euboea on these conditions, and made frequent journeys. At the hour appointed, we found a number of other persons prepared to accompany us, with the prospect of a pleasant party. One was an Eirenodikes, or judge of the peace, recently appointed for the town of Lalia, in Macedonia. We had also a gentleman and his son returning home, and several merchants on journies of speculation. Our guide was an old man, but hale, active and good natured. He engaged in the business with liveliness and zeal; and after he had seen us all mounted, and given the word to start, he set off on foot without a murmur or a frown, and soon struck up a song. It was one of the numerous patriotic poems current during the war, in which I learned he had borne a long and active part.. At the return of peace, he had left the army, and devoted himself to his honest but laborious occupation. Through the whole journey we found him intelligent, active, friendly, and cheerful; and, whenever other means failed, he often resorted to his vocal powers to beguile the time.

At length we discovered a small plain, perhaps two miles in extent, with hills on both sides and reaching to the shore, where we saw only a few scattering farm-houses. The surface seemed slightly irregular, and no striking object appeared to fix the attention; but it was the plain of Marathon! How interesting a spot! What event is there in the history of Athens, or even of Greece, better calculated to excite the interest, and to connect a pleasing recollection with a scene? From childhood we are excited by it, and the impression continues through life. The character of Alcibiades, as presented to us, is so

pure as to impart unmingled admiration. The estimation in which he was held by his fellow generals was such that they voluntarily resigned to him their power; and he received and exercised it in such a manner as fully to satisfy their confidence, and to reflect honor upon their judgment as well as their patriotism.

The defence made by the Athenians, their immovable perseverance and final victory, do not appear to have been owing to a brutalizing education, like that of Sparta, but a fixed and indomitable resolution, produced by the love of their country. Who has not read the story with enthusiasm, however distant from the scene, and however unconnected with the race who were actors in it? Who then can wonder that I should have experienced feelings of a peculiar character, while overlooking the very waters where the Persian fleet rode at anchor, the sands on which it landed its innumerable and splendid hosts, the ground on which they advanced to overwhelm the little army of Greeks, the pass where the defenders stood so manfully to guard the approach to their city, and changed the Persian cry of vaunting and defiance to that of fear and retreat? It certainly cannot appear strange that any one should feel an unusual thrill through his heart, who, in such a place, remembers that that country and his country is again free-that its citizens acknowledge him as a brother, humble and undistinguished as he may be.

In the time of Pausanias, as he informs us, "the barrow of the Athenians" was "on the plain; and on it," he continues, "are pillars bearing the names of the good. There is another of the Plateans and slaves; and a distant monument of Miltiades, the commander," &c.

The following eloquent passage, from Demosthenes, containing an affecting appeal on the principles of those who fell on this field, may be appropriately introduced in this place.

"But it is not, it is not that you have sinned, O men of Athens, in incurring labors for the freedom and safety of all. No; by those of your ancestors who exposed themselves before you at Marathon, and those who stood in array at Platea, and those who fought on the fleet at Salamis, and those who lie buried at Artemis, and many other good men in the graves of their own people, all of whom were likewise interred by the country, being deemed worthy of the honor."

Indian Gods, or Shingaba-Wessins.
From Schoolcraft's Oneota.

The native tribes, who occupy the borders of the great lakes, are very ingenious in converting to the uses of superstition, such masses of loose rock, or boulder stones, as have been fretted by the action of water into shapes resembling the trunks of human bodies, or other organic forms.

There appears, at all times, to have been a ready disposition to turn such masses of rude