Five roads of leading interest (besides many a cheering byway among the hills) branch out from the walls of Beyrout. Damascus is about eighteen hours off; Jerusalem six days; Djouni, the romantic residence and burial-place of Lady Hester Stanhope, ten hours; Baalbec, the flower of all Eastern ruins, eighteen hours, and Latakia, whither _we_ are bound, five days. These distances may be accomplished in less time; they are here given at the calculation of a walking pace, as the roads, or rather paths, are for the most part steep and difficult; and the baggage-horses, at all events, can seldom advance more rapidly. One word more of dry detail, and we shall put ourselves _en route_ for the mountains of the Ansayrii and the further East. Notwithstanding the advance of civilisation at Beyrout, where a European consulocracy has established a more than European equality of privileges between Turks and Christians, the interior of the country is daily becoming more dangerous to travel in. Eight years ago, when the stern rule of Ibrahim Pasha had still left its beneficent traces, the writer of this article wandered over the length and breadth of the land, attended by a single servant and a muleteer. Since our Government, for inscrutable reasons, has restored Syria to the embroilment of its native factions, all security for the traveller, and indeed for the native, has ceased. To reach Jerusalem, or even Damascus, in safety, a considerable escort is now necessary; though the Vale of Baalbec may still be reached in less warlike fashion from Latakia or Tripoli, if the traveller is endowed with liberality, courage, and courtesy--the leading virtues of his profession.