"At the first station where we changed horses the manager, a Frenchman, said the cedars were several miles to the north, over a rough and difficult road which was inaccessible to carriages. He said the grove was less than half a mile square, and contained about four hundred trees of all sizes. Most of the trees are young, and not more than a dozen are of any great antiquity. The largest is about forty feet in circumference, and it is supposed to be the oldest; and there are thirty or forty which are each from three to five feet in diameter. "This is the grove from which the timber for Solomon's Temple is supposed to have been taken. There were formerly many cedar groves in Syria, but the most of them have been cut down, or have disappeared from climatic causes. No care is taken of the few cedars that remain; visitors cut and hack them as much as they please. The Arabs take the branches for fuel, and the goats nibble the young shoots so that no new trees can grow. In a hundred years, or perhaps less, the famous cedars of Lebanon will have ceased to exist. "Now we are on the summit of Lebanon, five thousand six hundred feet above the level of the Mediterranean! The sea is far below us, its dark-blue surface filling the western horizon, and between us and the water is the slope of Lebanon and the belt of coast. The driver gathers his reins, turns down the brake a little--just enough to steady the carriage, but not sufficient to impede the progress of the horses. Away they go at a rapid trot, and occasionally at a gallop. The ride was tedious as we slowly ascended the other side of Lebanon, and this exhilarating speed is an admirable contrast. [Illustration: VIEW OF BEYROOT, LOOKING TOWARD THE HARBOR.] "Down, and down, and down! The air grows warmer, the clouds that were hovering about the mountain-top are breaking, and the sunlight comes pouring through the rifts, warming our shivering frames and gilding the rocks with a tint of gold. The spots of green on the ground below us grow every minute till they develop into villages and orchards, and one, clinging at the edge of the sea, is larger than any of the others. The driver waves his hand toward this spot and pronounces the word 'Beyroot.' There lies the city where our wanderings in Palestine and Syria will come to an end. "The Mediterranean sparkled in the sunlight, its blue surface stippled with white sails or darkened by the trail of smoke from the funnels of a steamer. An irregular streak of foam marked where the waves broke along the beach and separated land from sea. In one hour of our descent the chill of winter was exchanged for the genial air of spring, and in another hour spring was turned to summer. Oranges and citrons were on the trees, olives and figs abounded, the fields were luxuriant, and it seemed a dream that we had come so quickly from one climate to another.