Those ruined shrines and towers, that seem
The relics of a splendid dream;
Amid whose fairy loveliness
Nought but the lapwing's cry is heard;
Nought seen but (when the shadows, flitting
Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam)
Some purple-winged SULTANA[135] sitting
Upon a column motionless,
And glittering like an idol bird.
* * * * *
But nought can charm the luckless Peri;
Her soul is sad--her wings are weary--
Joyless she sees the sun go down
On that great temple, once her own[136];
Whose lonely columns stand sublime,
Flinging their shadows from on high,
Like dials, which the wizard, Time,
Had raised to count his ages by.
These lines lead us to some beautiful observations by Sir John
Malcolm:--
"Among the traces of a great nation's former glory," says he, "there is
none upon which the mind dwells with more serious thought than on the
magnificent ruins of its ancient palaces. How forcibly are we reminded
of our condition, when told that an edifice, in the erection of which a
kingdom's wealth had been exhausted; which was adorned with every
ornament that the art of the world could supply, and whose history was
engraven on the imperishable rocks with which it was constructed, was
not only fallen into decay, but that its founder was unknown, and the
language in which its history was inscribed was no longer numbered among
the tongues of man!" These observations are peculiarly applicable to the
present state of Balbec.
This city stood in the road between Tyre and Palmyra; its history is,
nevertheless, so lost in obscurity, that, considering the splendour and
magnificence of its remains, we are astonished! Scarcely any thing of
its history is known; and even its existence appears to have been
unknown for many centuries to the Romans.
Tradition states that it was built by Solomon; and for the truth
of this the Jews quote the following passage from the Book of
Chronicles[137]:--"Also he (Solomon) built Beth-horon the upper, and
Beth-horon the nether, fencied cities, with walls, gates, and bars; and
_Baal-ath_."
For the greater confirmation, it is thought that Balbec is meant when
Solomon says--"the tower of Lebanon, that looketh towards Damascus." The
Arabs go even so far as to assert, that this city was built by the king
as a residence for the Queen of Sheba; and Sir William Ouseley quotes a
passage, wherein it is mentioned that a tradition in Persian implies,
that Solomon often passed his day at Balbec, and his night at Istakr.
The names Heliopolis and Balbec are words of different languages, which
have nearly the same signification. The sun was worshipped by the
ancient inhabitants of the country, under the name of Baal. Balbec
signifies the vale of Baal; and Heliopolis the city of the sun.
That Balbec derived, not only its religion, but its very name, from
Heliopolis in Egypt, is rendered certain by a passage in Macrobius:--"In
the city called Heliopolis, the Assyrians worship the sun with great
pomp, under the name of the Heliopolitan Jove; and the statue of this
god was brought from a city in Egypt, also called Heliopolis, where
Senumens or Senepos reigned over the Egyptians, by Opios, ambassador
from Delebor, king of the Assyrians, together with some Egyptian
priests, of whom Partemetis was the chief, and it remained long among
the Assyrians before it was removed to Heliopolis."
The same author adds, "that he declines giving the reason for this fact,
or telling how the statue was afterwards brought to the place, where in
his time it was worshipped, more according to the Assyrian than the
Egyptian rites, as circumstances foreign to his purpose."
As Balbec has never been the seat of a monarch, antiquaries are greatly
at a loss to conceive how the expense of these magnificent structures
could have been supplied by private or municipal liberality. The
orientals, however, explain the prodigy by a never-failing
expedient,--they were constructed by the fairies or genii!
That these temples did not exist when Pompey went through Heliopolis to
Damascus is probable, because the writers of that time, who mention less
remarkable structures with admiration, take no notice of any such
building; and it is certain that they did exist in the time of
Caracalla; because Heliopolis is to be seen on many of his coins; and
vows in favour of him and his empress are recorded in two inscriptions,
the remains of which are still to be seen on the pedestals of the
columns of the great portico of the temple.
That Heliopolis was constituted a colony by Augustus Cæsar, is rendered
probable, by some medals which still remain, and in which it is called,
"Colonia Julia Augusta;" but it was not till the time of Septimius
Severus that the temple was impressed on the reverse of the coins.
When we consider the extraordinary magnificence of the temple of Balbec,
we cannot but be greatly surprised at the silence of the Greek and Roman
authors in respect to it. Mr. Wood, who has carefully examined all the
ancient authors, has found no mention of it, except in a fragment of
John of Antioch, surnamed Malala, who attributes the building of it to
Antoninus Pius. His words are:--"Ælius Antoninus Pius[138] built a great
temple at Heliopolis, near Libanus, in Phoenicia, which was one of the
wonders of the world." Some Roman medals also have been found, upon the
reverse of which is a representation something similar to those temples,
with the inscription:--COLONIA HELIOPOLITANA JOVI OPTIMO MAXIMO
HELIOPOLITANO.
One circumstance, however, militates against the idea that Antoninus
Pius was the builder of these temples; viz., that Julius Capitolinus
says nothing about them, though he gives a list of that emperor's
buildings, and speaks of others of much less consideration. It must,
however, be remembered, that the work of Julius Capitolinus is known to
be so extremely defective, that though Antoninus reigned one-and-twenty
years, and transmitted to posterity the character of one of the best
princes that ever ruled, yet the particulars, that merited such
extraordinary praise, are utterly unknown.
Gibbon thus remarks upon the different fortunes of Balbec and
Emesa:--"Among the cities which are enumerated by Greek and oriental
names in the geography and conquest of Syria, we may distinguish EMESA
and HELIOPOLIS; the former as a metropolis of the plain; the latter as
the metropolis of the valley. Under the last of the Cæsars they were
strong and populous; the turrets glittered from afar; an ample space was
covered with public and private buildings; and the citizens were
illustrious by their spirit, or at least by their pride; by their
riches, or at least by their luxury. In the days of paganism, both Emesa
and Heliopolis were addicted to the worship of Baal, or the sun: but the
decline of their superstition or splendour has been marked by a singular
variety of fortune. Not a vestige remains of the temple of Emesa, which
was equalled in poetic style to the summits of Mount Libanus; while the
ruins of Balbec, invisible to the writers of antiquity, excite the
curiosity and wonder of European travellers."
In the reign of Heraclius its garrison was strengthened, that it might
be enabled to withstand the Arabs; and when Christianity gained the
ascendancy under Constantine, he shut up many pagan temples; but it was
Theodosius, who converted its temple into a Christian church, the walls
of which are still standing. The conversion of it into a fortress was
the work of the Caliphs, when this part of the world fell under the
government of the Caliphs, called the Ommiades; an incurious and
therefore an ignorant race, during whose time nothing is recorded of
Balbec, although it was then a considerable city. The ancient name,
Balbec, during this time was restored, instead of Heliopolis, which was
probably a translation of Balbec, or at least substituted for it, when
it passed out of the possession of its own native oriental inhabitants.
In Ebn Haukal's[139] oriental geography, Balbec is mentioned
thus:--"Beyond the borders of Demeshk is Baalbek, situated on an
eminence. Here are the gates of palaces, sculptured in marble; and lofty
columns, also of marble. In the whole region of Syria there is not a
more stupendous or considerable edifice than this[140]."
The approach to this ruined city is thus described by Mr. Bruce:--"The
form of Mount Libanus, as seen from the plain of Bekka, is this: first,
a range of mountains, extremely proper for culture, and of no
considerable height, sloping easily to the plain, and covered with trees
that are not very thickly planted. On the other side of these rises a
chain of mountains of an extraordinary height, bare for the most part,
and stony, cut in every rain, and covered with snow, except in summer.
Thus they continue till they descend much more steeply on the other side
towards the sea. The valleys within this high chain of mountains, which
on one side run parallel with the sea-coast, and on the other form the
east side of the plain of Bekka, are mostly narrow; but abundantly
fertile, were they in the hands of better people, under a better
government; industry being here always followed by oppression."
Mr. Carne describes his arrival thus:--"The sun set on the vast temple,
and the mountains around it, with indescribable grandeur; the chain of
Anti-Libanus, in front, was covered with snow; and the plain, wild and
beautiful, stretched at its feet farther than the eye can reach: the
pigeons, of many-coloured plumage, flew in clusters round the ruined
walls, at whose feet were a variety of trees and flowers, amidst which
ran a clear and rapid stream."
We now pass to Mons. La Martine:--"On reaching the summit of the breach,
we knew not where to fix our eyes. On every side we beheld marble doors
of prodigious dimensions, windows and niches, bordered with exquisite
sculpture, richly ornamented arches, fragments of cornices,
entablatures, and capitals. The master-work of art; the wrecks of ages,
lay scattered as thickly as the grains of dust beneath our feet. All was
mystery, confusion, inexplicable wonder. No sooner had we cast an
admiring glance on one side, than some new prodigy attracted us on the
others. Every attempt, we made to interpret the religious meaning of the
monuments, was immediately defeated by some newly-discerned object. We
frequently groped about in this labyrinth of conjecture. One cannot
restrict, in one's fancy, the sacred edifices of an age, or a people of
whose religion or manners nothing certain can be known. Time carries his
secrets away with him, and leaves his enigmas as sports for human
knowledge. We speedily renounced all our attempts to build any system
out of these ruins; we were content to gaze and admire, without
comprehending any thing beyond the colossal power of human genius; and
the strength of religious feeling, which had moved such masses of stone,
and wrought so many master-pieces."
The ruins of Balbec do not present a crowd of fallen edifices, spread
over a large extent, like those of Palmyra; they consist only of three
distinct buildings, which stand not far from each other, in a plain at a
short distance from the inhabited part of the town. As in the instance
of Palmyra, where we shall have to make a similar remark, it is
impossible to convey an adequate idea of these works of art, without the
accompaniments of plates[141]. We adopt, therefore, an abstract of the
account of M. Volney, since his description is, perhaps, the best that
we have:--"In entering the principal gate, which faces the mountain on
the east, we come to an hexagonal court, which is one hundred and eighty
feet in diameter. This is strewed with broken columns, mutilated
capitals, and the remains of entablatures and cornices. Around it is a
row of ruined edifices, which display all the ornaments of the richest
architecture. On passing through this court towards the west, we enter a
large square, three hundred and fifty feet wide, and three hundred and
thirty-three in length. Along each side of this court runs a sort of
gallery, divided into various compartments, seven of which may be
reckoned in each of the principal wings. It is not easy to conceive the
use of this part of the structure; but it does not diminish our
admiration at the beauty of the pilasters, and the richness of the
frieze and entablature; neither is it possible to avoid remarking the
singular effect which results from the mixture of the garlands, the
large foliage of the capitals, and the sculpture of wild plants, with
which they are every where ornamented. At the west end of this court
stand six enormous columns, which appear to be totally unconnected with
the rest of the building. On a more attentive examination, however, we
discover a series of foundations, which seem to mark out the peristyle
of a grand temple, to which these columns belonged. Pococke supposes
this temple never to have been finished. We must examine them narrowly
before we can conceive all the boldness of the elevation, and the
richness of their workmanship. Their shafts are twenty-one feet eight
inches in circumference, and fifty-eight high; so that the total height,
including the entablature, is from seventy-one to seventy-two feet.
These six pillars are all that now remain of twenty-four[142].
The southern side of the grand temple has, at some distant period, been
blocked up to build a smaller one, the peristyle and walls of which are
still remaining. This temple presents a side of thirteen columns by
eight in front, which, like all the rest of the ruins, are of the
Corinthian order[143]. To reach the smaller temple from the larger one,
you must cross trunks of columns, heaps of stone, and a ruinous wall.
After surmounting these obstacles, you arrive at the gate, where you may
survey the enclosure, which was once the habitation of a god; but
instead of the awful scene of a prostrate people, and sacrifices offered
by a multitude of priests, the sky, which is open from the falling in of
the roof, only lets in light to show a chaos of ruins covered with dust
and weeds. The walls, which supported the roof, are thirty-one feet
high, and without a window. There are tablets in the form of lozenges,
on which are represented Jupiter seated on his eagle, Leda caressed by
the swan, Diana with her bow and crescent, and several busts which seem
to be figures of emperors and empresses.
The number of lizards to be seen is so great, that Mr. Bruce says, that
those he saw one day in the great court of the temple of the sun
amounted to many thousands; the ground, the walls, and stones of the
ruined buildings being covered with them. Besides these two, there is a
smaller temple of very great beauty. The building itself, exclusive of
the pillars, by which it is surrounded, is only thirty-two feet in
diameter; and the height is divided into two parts, in the lower of
which the architecture is Ionic, and in the higher Corinthian. The grace
and lightness of the exterior of this edifice has induced several
competent critics to call it "a perfect gem of art."
In respect to the six columns, "In order to reach them," says M. de La
Martine, "we had to pass external boundary walls, high pedestals,
terraces, and foundations of altars. At length we arrived at the feet of
the columns. Silence is the only language of man, when what he feels
outstrips the ordinary measure of his impressions. We stood in mute
contemplation of these six columns, and scanning with our eyes their
diameter, their elevation, and the admirable sculpture of their
architraves and cornices. Their diameter is six feet, and their height
upwards of seventy-two. They are formed out of two or three blocks,
which are so perfectly joined together, that the junction lines are
scarcely discernible[144]. They are composed of light yellow stone,
presenting a sort of medium between the polish of marble and the
deadness of turf. When near them, the sun lighted them only on one side,
and we sat down for a few moments in their shade. Large birds, like
eagles, scared by the sound of our footsteps, fluttered above the
capitals of the columns, where they have built their nests; and
returning, perched upon the acanthus of the columns, striking them with
their beaks, and flapping their wings like living ornaments, amidst
these inanimate wonders, all of which appear to resemble works of
dwarfs."
Branching off to the southward of the _avenue_, you come to the stumps
of some fluted columns sticking above the sand on either side of a small
simple gateway; and a few paces to the westward, on an eminence, are the
ruins of the small temple just now mentioned; and from thence is enjoyed
the magnificent _coup-d'oeil_ of all the ruins and the vast desert.
Beyond the circular colonnade lie the prostrate remains of a very
magnificent building, constructed of a species of marble superior to the
generality of that used in these ruins. The walls are constructed of
large single stones, nicely fitted one above another. Richly ornamented
windows extend around the walls, and some columns of one entire piece,
twenty-two feet in length and about nine in circumference, lie prostrate
on the ground.
"About fifty yards distant from the temple," says Mr. Maundrell, "is a
row of Corinthian pillars, very great and lofty, with a most stately
architrave and cornice at the top. This speaks itself to have been part
of some very august pile; but what one now sees of it is but just enough
to give a regret, that there should be no more remaining. Here is
another curiosity of this place, which a man need be well assured of his
credit, before he ventures to relate, lest he should be thought to
strain the privilege of a traveller too far. That which I mean is a
large piece of an old wall, which encompasses all these structures last
described. A wall made of such monstrous great stones, that the natives
hereabouts, (as it is usual in things of this strange nature,) ascribe
it to the architecture of the devil. Three of the stones, which were
larger than the rest, we took the pains to measure. We found them to
extend sixty-one yards in length; one twenty-one; the other two each
twenty yards; and in the breadth of the same dimensions. These three
stones lay in one and the same row to the end; the rest of the wall was
made also of great stones, but none I think so great as these. That
which added to the wonder was, that these stones were lifted up into the
wall more than twenty feet from the ground."
Besides these ruins, there are several very large subterraneous
passages, which lead under the great citadel, immense vaults of very
massive architecture, constructed in a very beautiful manner. Some of
these, no doubt, were tombs; and this leads us to remember, that Mr.
Browne says[145], that when he was at Zahhlé, he met with a young man, a
Druse, who told him, that near Balbec, a few years ago, in digging, the
body of a man was found interred in a kind of vault, having a piece of
unstamped gold in his mouth; near him a number of leaden plates marked
with characters, to them unknown. These were sold and melted. La Martine
says, that not far from Balbec, in a valley of the Anti-Libanus, human
bones of immense magnitude have been discovered; and that this fact is
so confidently believed among the neighbouring Arabs, that the English
consul in Syria (Mr. Farren), a man of extensive information, proposes
to visit those mysterious sepulchres.
The walls of the ancient Heliopolis are traceable in many directions,
and show that the city must have been of a very considerable extent.
"These walls," says Mr. Wood, "like most of the ancient cities of Asia,
appear to be the confused patch-work of different ages. The pieces of
capitals, broken entablatures, and, in some places, reversed Greek
inscriptions, which we observed in walking round them, convinced us that
their last repairs were made after the decline of taste, with materials,
negligently collected as they lay nearest to hand, and hastily put
together for immediate defence."
The stone of which the temple is built was brought from the neighbouring
quarry, at the bottom of which there is a single stone lying seventy
feet in length, fourteen in breadth, and fourteen feet six inches in
thickness. Its weight, according to these dimensions, must be above 1130
tons! It would require, we are told, the united strength of sixty
thousand men of our time to raise this single stone!
The stones used at Balbec are the largest that have ever been moved by
human power. The largest in the pyramids of Egypt do not exceed eighteen
feet. But here, of those that compose the sloping wall, which surrounds
the temple on the west and north, three occupy a space of one hundred
and seventy-five feet and a half; viz., the 1st, fifty-eight feet seven
inches; the 2nd, fifty-eight feet eleven inches; and the 3rd, exactly
fifty-eight feet long; and each of these is twelve feet thick.
"When it is considered," says La Martine, "that some of these blocks of
hewn granite are raised one above another to the height of twenty or
thirty feet from the ground;--that they have been brought from distant
quarries, and raised to so vast a height to form the pavement of the
temple;--the mind is overwhelmed by such an example of human power. The
science of modern times cannot help us to explain it, and we cannot be
surprised, therefore, that it is referred to the supernatural."
"The shades of evening," continues this accomplished traveller, "which
slowly descended the mountains of Balbec, and obscured, one by one, the
columns and the ruins, imparted an additional air of mystery to the
picturesque and magical effect of these wonderful works of man and time.
We felt the full insignificance of human nature; and while contemplating
the mass and eternity of these monuments, we compared man to the
swallows, which build their nests for a season in the interstices of
these stones, without knowing for whom, or by whom, or for what purpose,
they were collected together. The power which moved these masses, and
accumulated these blocks, is unknown to us. The dust of the marble,
which we trod under our feet, knows more than we do, but can tell us
nothing; and in a few centuries to come, the generations who may, in
their turn, visit the wrecks of our monuments now existing, will ask,
without being able to answer, why we laboured without being able to
build and carve. The works of man are more durable than his thoughts;
movement is the law of the human mind; the definite is the dream of
man's vanity and ignorance; God is an object which incessantly recedes
from us, as we endeavour to approach him. We are continually advancing,
but we never arrive. The Deity, whose divine figure man seems to embody
in his imagination, and to enshrine in his temples, continually
enlarges, and exceeds the narrow boundaries of our minds, and our
edifices; leaves the temples and the altars to crumble into dust; and
summons man to seek him where he is most plainly manifested, viz., in
intelligence, in virtue, in nature, and in eternity."
We now give place to observations, made by travellers on the relative
merits of the architecture, employed in these magnificent edifices.
"When we compare the ruins of Balbec," says Mr. Wood, "with those of
many ancient cities, which we visited in Italy, Greece, and Egypt, and
in other parts of Asia, we cannot help thinking them the remains of the
boldest plan we ever saw attempted in architecture."
"The enormity of the scale," says Mr. Buckingham, "and the magnificence
of design, seen throughout the whole of the architecture, with the
boldness of the drawing, and the exquisite finish of the sculpture,
impressed me with an idea of a labour more than human. I should conceive
that in no country was to be found so superb a monument of the
inimitable perfection of ancient architecture. The temples and the tombs
of Egypt were here equalled in the enormity of the masses, that composed
them; and the chamber of the Pyramids rivalled in the closeness of the
masonry; while the monuments of Athens itself, in the age of Pericles
and Praxiteles, were at least equalled in the richness and beauty of the
sculptured ornaments, that adorned them. It appeared to me, that the
temples of Edfou, Tentyris, and Thebes, fell far short of this, as a
whole; for here the ponderous strength of the Egyptian, and the
chastened elegance of the Grecian school, are both most happily
combined."
Mr. Addison appears to have entertained a different opinion:--"Those
ruins," says he, "though so striking and magnificent, are yet, however,
quite second rate, when compared with the Athenian ruins; and display,
in their decorations, none of the bold conceptions and the genius which
characterise the Athenian architecture. There is a peculiar sameness in
the decorations of the figures, entablatures, and cornices. The
ornaments are all alike, and the festoons of grapes, and vine-leaves
hung on goats' and horses' heads, the pendent bunches of grapes and
Cupids, however rich in appearance, and beautifully chiselled, can never
excite such feelings, as one small portion of the Panathenian frieze of
the Parthenon, or one of the Metopes, representing a battle between a
Centaur and a Lapithæ. There is a genius in these latter, a combination
of talent, a soul, fire, and spirit, which are looked for in vain in the
Balbec remains. The great Panathenian frieze of the Parthenon, which
extended all around that temple, with its hundreds of horses and
warriors, its spirited grouping, and faithful delineation of forms and
attitudes; and above it the wars of the Centaurs and Lapithæ, possessed
a most exciting interest. The vine-branches and wheat ears of the temple
of Balbec, although unquestionably very beautiful, yet appear tame in
comparison; and cannot certainly be put in competition with these
master-pieces of architectural decoration."
"Several artists have observed," says Mr. Wood, "a similitude between
some European buildings, and some parts of the ruins of Palmyra and
Balbec; from which they have, perhaps, too hastily concluded, that the
former were copied from the latter. The portico of the Louvre at Paris
has been compared in this light to the ruins of Palmyra; as also with
the portico at Balbec; but we cannot discover any foundation for
inferences so injurious to the memory of the architect, who built that
noble structure, which is as justly admired as it is unaccountably
neglected."
We now return to the page of M. de La Martine:--"Round this platform is
ranged a series of chapels, decorated with niches, admirably
sculptured, friezes, cornices, and vaulted arches; all displaying the
most finished workmanship, but evidently belonging to a degenerate
period of art. But this impression can only be felt by those whose eyes
have been previously exercised by the contemplation of the pure
monuments of Athens and Rome. Every other eye would be fascinated by the
splendour of the forms and the finish of the ornaments. The only fault
is too much richness; the stone groans beneath the weight of its own
luxuriance, and the walls are overspread with a lace-work of marble."
The town is, at present, so ruined, that there are not counted more than
fifty habitable dwellings in it; though the whole number within the
walls may be estimated at five hundred.
The state of the city is deplorable. The emirs of the house of Harfoushe
had already greatly impaired it, when an earthquake, in 1759, completed
its destruction; insomuch, that though in 1751 there were five thousand
inhabitants, not twelve hundred are remaining; and all these poor,
without industry or commerce, we are told, and cultivating nothing but a
little cotton, some maize, and a few watermelons.
Even the ruins are altering every day. Dawkins and Wood found nine large
columns standing; but Volney, in 1784, found only six. They reckoned
twenty-nine at the lesser temple; but now there are only twenty. There
were, originally, thirty-four,--eight in front, and thirteen along each
of the sides. The others were overthrown by an earthquake. Nature alone,
however, has not effected this devastation. The Turks have had their
share in the destruction of the columns; the motive for which was merely
that of procuring the iron cramps, which served to join the several
blocks of which each column is composed. Famine, the pestilence, and
the sword, gradually thinned the inhabitants. The population of five
thousand, which the town contained in 1751, has now dwindled down to
barely two hundred persons: nor does each house continue to possess, as
it did in the time of Maundrell, "ten or fifteen cows, besides goats and
sheep, the goats being of an uncommon species, worth from 30_l._ to
35_l._ a piece!" The description left by Maundrell was faithful at the
time he visited those ruins; but since that period several important
parts have been destroyed, and even the place of the temple at the end
of the great court, which was probably the principal edifice of the
whole, cannot at this day be made out[146].
The hands of the natives have, no doubt, committed many ravages.
Faccardine, prince of the Druses, destroyed or injured several parts of
these ruins; but when he afterwards visited Italy, and contracted a
taste for its architecture, he is said to have bitterly lamented the
sacrilege he had committed at Balbec[147]. "It is in fact man, not
nature," says an elegant writer, "that has wrought this change. No
blight has seared the soil, or poisoned the air, but a degrading
despotism has as effectually dried up the sources of social prosperity,
as if some elementary convulsion had suddenly turned the clime of beauty
cold and dark, and struck the teeming earth with hopeless barrenness.
Indeed, Turkish oppression has done what no unkindness of nature could
have effected. The splendours of Palmyra rose, under the breath of a
free commerce, in the midst of a sandy desert; but nothing has been able
to preserve that and many other great cities from crumbling into heaps
of ruins, at the death-touch of the gloomy tyranny, that now hangs like
a pall over the land."
We must now give place to what Mons. de La Martine says, in regard to
the Bishop of Balbec:--"We proceeded very little farther that day. The
road diverged from these ruins, and led us to others. We passed over
some vaults, and arrived at a small house. This was the palace of the
Bishop of Balbec, who, clothed in his violet-coloured pelisse, and
attended by some Arab peasants, advanced to meet us, and conducted us to
his humble door. The poorest peasant's cottage in Burgundy, or Auvergne,
possesses greater luxury and elegance than the palace of the Bishop of
Balbec. It was an ill-built hut, without either window or door, and
through the decayed roof the rain worked its way, and dropped on the mud
floor. This was the bishop's dwelling! But at the further end of the
yard, which adjoined the house, a neat wall, newly built of blocks of
stone, and a door and window in ogives of Moorish architecture, each
ogive being constructed of finely-sculptured stones, attracted my
attention. This was the church of Balbec, the cathedral of that town, in
which other gods have had splendid temples; the chapel in which the few
Arab Christians, who live here amidst the wrecks of so many different
faiths, worship, under a purer form, the universal Creator."
The bishop was a fine old man with hair and beard of silver, a grave and
benevolent cast of features, and a sweet and well-modulated voice. He
was the perfect image of a priest of poetry or romance, says the
traveller; and his aspect, which denoted peace, resignation, and
charity, was well suited to the scene of ruins and meditation in which
he lived.
The traveller afterwards describes a delightful scene. He and his
friends were sitting by moonlight near the bishop's hut. "We were
silent. Suddenly a soft plaintive strain, a slow modulated murmur stole
through the grotesque ogives of the ruined wall of the bishop's house.
This vague and confused sound swelled higher and higher, until we
distinguished it to be a chant from the united voices of choristers; a
monotonous, melancholy strain, which rose, fell, and died away, and was
alternately revived and re-echoed. This was the evening prayer, which
the Arab bishop was chanting with his little flock, in the skeleton of
that which once had been his church; viz., a heap of ruins piled up by a
heap of idolaters. We were totally unprepared for music of this sort,
where every note was, in fact, a sentiment or a sign from the human
breast. How little did we expect it in this solitude, in the bosom of
the desert, issuing, as it were, from mute stones, strewed about by the
combined influence of earthquakes, barbarous ignorance, and time! A
hallowed emotion inspired us, and we joined with religious fervour in
the sacred hymn, until the last sighs of the pious voices had died away,
and silence again reigned over the venerable ruins."
We conclude with the words which Seller in his history of Palmyra adopts
from Cicero: "Whenever we see such remains of venerable antiquity, such
lasting records of the names and achievements of great persons, we are
admonished to take care so to regulate our actions, that we may convince
the world we have settled our prospect upon the rewards of future ages,
and not on the flatteries of the present; and so remember, that
monuments being erected to the memory of those who have lived well in
this world before they left it, put us in mind, that there is nothing
here permanent and immutable; and that it is the duty of considering man
to aspire towards immortality[148]."