What numerous reflections this sight must have produced!—Those savage animals thus wandering amidst the towers of Babylon, and dwelling within the cavities of her once magnificent palaces, proved how faithfully the prophecies had been fulfilled, which relate to her fall, and how exactly the words of Isaiah have been verified,—“wild beasts of the desert shall lie down there, and the houses shall be full of doleful creatures.”
Among the fragments, and elevated on a sort of ridge, he found the famous solitary tree which has escaped the general destruction. It bears the marks of almost as great antiquity in its appearance as tradition gives it. The Arabs call it athelé, but its species was quite unknown to him; the trunk must have been enormous, and now, though hollow and shattered, it supports very large spreading branches, which are adorned with tress-like tendrils resembling heron feathers. These long and delicate tendrils bend towards the ground, like a weeping willow, and while gently waving in the wind, they make a low melancholy sound.
The Euphrates wanders in solitude through this desolate region, its banks are covered with reeds, and now unrestrained by its former stately quays, it annually overflows the country; producing high rank grass, and leaving stagnant pools and swamps among the hollows of the adjacent plain.—“I will make thee a possession for the bittern, and pools of water.”
Upon the whole, though so little remains to point out the several parts of this once stupendous city, there is enough to convince the attentive examiner, that he is on the very spot where the hand of God wrote on the wall the awful and well known denunciation against Babylon!
“How the scene is now changed! At that time these broken hills were palaces—these long undulating mounds were streets—and this desolate solitude was filled with the busy subjects of the proud daughter of the East.”
My dear Mamma, I hope you will not think that I fill up my journal with too long extracts; but I was so much interested in all that relates to Babylon, that I could not deny myself the pleasure of copying some parts of this great book, which I am sure will not for a long time make its way to Rio.
Sept. 9.—Do you recollect, dear Mamma, that I mentioned in my journal about a fortnight ago, my uncle’s surprise at meeting an old acquaintance at the harvest home, who, when he formerly knew him, was in the gay world; and who, it then seemed very improbable would have to lead a rural life, and to associate with plain farmers? My uncle’s notice was attracted by his very gentlemanlike air, even in the homely dress of a farmer; and when he discovered who he was, he doubted at first whether he should address him, as he feared that the evident change in his situation might make it disagreeable to him to be recognised. However, they did renew their acquaintance, and my uncle obtained permission to wait on him.
He rode to see him in a few days, and was much charmed with the neatness of his farm and cottage, and, indeed, with all his family. He lives on the borders of the forest, as well as my uncle, but at a distance of several miles from this place. My uncle gave us a little sketch of his history in the evening, as nearly in his own words as he could; and he was so kind as to permit me to tell it to you, because he thinks you once knew this gentleman yourself. I have never heard his name, so I do not know what to call him; and I will try to write it just as my uncle repeated it to us:
“At the period that you knew me,” said he, “I was moving in the most fashionable circles, occupied by the world, and all its silly amusements, and without any other object than to amuse away my idle life. I travelled on the continent—I afterwards went into the army; but at home or abroad, I was pursued by that ennui which is always the consequence of idleness. I need not recount to you, sir, all the extravagant follies I committed in search of pleasure, that brilliant, but deceitful phantasm, which leads us into error, and betrays us to disappointment.
“From the time that I was a schoolboy, pleasure had been my only object; the mistaken indulgence of my parents increased the fault, and diminished the enjoyment; for it left me no difficulties to overcome—no efforts to make. My father was rich, and profusely generous to me;—and though I was the second son, I knew that my mother intended to bequeath me her estate, which was in her own power.