5

by the heat of a sun such as Rome never knows—low, gray rocks just rising here and there above the level of the plain, with now and then the dead and glittering trunk of a vast cedar, whose roots seemed as if they had outlasted centuries-the bones of camels and elephants scattered on either hand, dazzling the sight by reason of their excessive whiteness-at a distance occasionally an Arab of the desert, for a moment surveying our long line, and then darting off to his fastnesses-these were the objects which, with scarce any variation, met our 10 eyes during the four wearisome days that we dragged ourselves over this wild and inhospitable region. A little after noon of the fourth day, having refreshed ourselves and our exhausted animals at a spring which poured out its warm but still grateful waters to the traveler, my 15 ears received the agreeable news that towards the east there could now be discerned the dark line which indicated our approach to the verdant tract that encompasses the great city. Our own excited spirits were quickly imparted to our beasts, and a more rapid movement 20 soon revealed into distinctness the high land and waving groves of palm trees which mark the site of Palmyra.

It was several miles before we reached the city that we suddenly found ourselves-landing, as it were, from a sea upon an island or continent-in a rich and thickly 25 peopled country. The roads indicated an approach to a great capital in the increasing numbers of those who thronged them, meeting and passing us, overtaking us, or crossing our path. Elephants, camels, and the dromedary, which I had before seen only in the amphithe-so aters, I here beheld as the native inhabitants of the soil. Frequent villas of the rich and luxuriant Palmyrenes, to which they retreat from the greater heats of the city, now threw a lovely charm over the scene. Noth

ing can exceed the splendor of these sumptuous palaces. Italy itself has nothing which surpasses them. The new and brilliant costumes of the persons whom we met, together with the rich housings of the animals which they rode, served greatly to add to all this beauty. I 5 was still entranced, as it were, by the objects around me, and buried in reflection, when I was aroused by the shout of those who led the caravan, and who had attained the summit of a little rising ground, saying, "Palmyra! Palmyra!" I urged forward my steed, and 10 in a moment the most wonderful prospect I ever beheld -no, I cannot except even Rome-burst upon my sight. Flanked by hills of considerable elevation on the east, the city filled the whole plain below as far as the eye could reach, both towards the north and towards the 15 south. This immense plain was all one vast and boundless city. It seemed to me to be larger than Rome; yet I knew very well that it could not be—that it was not. And it was some time before I understood the true character of the scene before me, so as to separate the 20 city from the country and the country from the city, which here wonderfully interpenetrate each other and so confound and deceive the observer. For the city proper is so studded with groups of lofty palm trees shooting up among its temples and palaces, and, on 2 the other hand, the plain in its immediate vicinity is so thickly adorned with magnificent structures of the purest marble, that it is not easy, nay, it is impossible, at the distance at which I contemplated the whole, to distinguish the line which divides the one from the 30 other. It was all city and all country, all country and all city. Those which lay before me I was ready to believe were the Elysian Fields.' I imagined that I saw under my feet the dwellings of purified men and of

gods. There was a central point, however, which chiefly fixed my attention, where the vast Temple of the Sun stretched upward its thousand columns of polished marble to the heavens, in its matchless beauty casting into the shade every other work of art of which the 5 world can boast. I have stood before the Parthenon, and have almost worshiped that divine achievement of the immortal Phidias'; but it is a toy by the side of this bright crown of the Eastern capital. I have been at Milan, at Ephesus, at Alexandria, at Antioch; but in 10 neither of those renowned cities have I beheld anything that I can allow to approach, in united extent, grandeur, and most consummate beauty, this almost more than work of man. On each side of this, the central point, there rose upward slender pyramids, pointed ob-15 elisks, domes of the most graceful proportions, columns, arches, and lofty towers, for number and for form beyond my power to describe. These buildings, as well as the walls of the city, being all either of white marble or of some stone as white, and being everywhere in 20 their whole extent interspersed, as I have already said, with multitudes of overshadowing palm trees, perfectly filled and satisfied my sense of beauty, and inade me feel for the moment as if in such a scene I should love to dwell and there end my days. Nor was I alone in 25 these transports of delight. All my fellow-travelers seemed equally affected; and from the native Palmyrenes, of whom there were many among us, the most impassioned and boastful exclamations broke forth. "What is Rome to this?" they cried. "Fortune is not constant. Why may not Palmyra be what Rome has been-mistress of the world? Who more fit to rule than the great Zenobia"? A few years may see great changes. Who can tell what shall come to pass?"

LXXVI.

MUSIC.

BY J. L. SPALDING.'

"THE beginning of literature," says Emerson, "is the prayers of a people, and they are always hymns." Music is poetry in tones. It is the language of feeling, the universal language of man. The cry of joy and of sorrow, of triumph and of despair, of ecstasy and of agony, 5 is understood by all because it is the voice of nature. The strong emotions of the heart all seek expression in modulation of sound; and religious sentiment is both awakened and calmed by music which lifts the soul out of the world of sense and elevates it towards the infinite 10 and invisible. Nearer than anything else it expresses the inner relations and nature of beings; the universal order and harmony which is found even in seemingly discordant and jarring elements. It is the most spiritual of arts, and more than any other is degraded when 15 perverted to low and sensuous uses.

Music is the food of the soul in all its most exalted moods. No other art has such power to minister to the sublime dreams and limitless desires of the heart which aspires to God; and therefore is it held that the man 20 who has not music in himself is fit only for base purposes and is but sluggish earth. Without its softening and spiritualizing influence we grow wooden and coarse. At its call the universal harmonies of nature stir within us-" birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree." There is doubtless a music as vast as creation, embra

66

25

cing all sounds, all noises in their numberless combinations, and rising from the bosom of discord in boundless and harmonious swell-the hymn which the universe. chants to God. From the dewdrop, that murmurs its inward delight as it kisses the rose leaf, to the deep and infinite voice of the ocean, sounding like the heart-pant of creation for rest; from the reed that sighs upon the river bank, to the sad and solemn wail of the primeval forest; from the bee that sings upon the wing among the flowers, to the lion who goeth forth into the desert 10 alone and awakens the sleeping echoes of the everlasting hills; from the nightingale who disburdens his full throat of all its music, to man, whose very soul rises on the palpitating bosom of song from world to world up to God's own heaven—all nature is vocal in a divine 15 concert. "There is music in all things, if men had ears."

20

Music gives repose like prayer or the presence of friends, because it satisfies the heart. "The soul," says Joubert," "sings to itself of all beauty." Silence is golden only to those who have power to hear divine melodiessongs of angels and symphonies of heaven. Silence is the setting of music, its light and background: and therefore melody is sweetest in solitude. Song is the voice of prayer, which is the breathing of the soul in 2 God's presence. Did not the angels sing when Christ was born, and shall man be dumb now that he lives and conquers and is adored? God is essential harmony, the works of his hand are harmonious, and his great precept is Love, which is the source and soul and highest expression of harmony. The soul that loves sings for joy and gratitude.

What sound more heavenly does hill or vale prolong or multiply than the voice of the bell, filling all the air,

24