466 JOURNEY TO CENTRAL AFRICA.

that fragment of the pre-Adamite chaos — in seeing the type of Beauty and Life stealing quietly through the heart of a region of Desolation and Death. From the stony slopes of the hills I looked down on his everlasting palms with the same old joy new-created in my heart.

After passing the akaba, I came to a village which I took to be Soleb, but on inquiring, the people pointed ahead. I rode on, around a slight curve of the trees, and was startled by a landscape of most unexpected interest and beauty Before me, over the crest of a black, rocky ridge, a cluster of shattered pillars stood around the falling doorway of a temple, the whole forming a picturesque group, cut clear against the sky.

Its tint of soft yellow-gray, was finely relieved by the dark green of the palms and the pure violet of some distant jagged peaks on the eastern bank. Beyond it, to the west, three peaks of white and purple limestone rock trembled in the fiery glare from the desert sands. The whole picture, the Desert excepted, was more G-recian than Egyptian, and was perfect in its forms and groupings. I know of no other name for the ruin than the Temple of Soleb. It was erected by Amunoph III. or Memnon, and the Arcadian character of the landscape ef which it is the central feature, harmonized thoroughly with my fancy, that Amunoph was a poet.

The temple stands on the west bank, near the river, and from whatever point it is viewed, has a striking effect. The remains consist of a portico, on a raised platform, leading to a court once surrounded by pillars. Then follows a second and more spacious portico, with a double row of three pillars on each side. This opens upon a second pillared court, at the opposite end of which is a massive doorway, leading to the