A savage, barren, inhospitable region lies before us, the cavernous valley of Seleucia--a veritable home for an anchorite, for there is nothing therein to remind one of the living world; the whole district resembles a vast ruined tomb, with its base overgrown by green weeds. Here is everything which begets gloom--the blackest religious fanaticism, the darkest monstrosities of superstition--while an eternal malediction seems to brood like a heavy mist over this region, created surely by God's left hand, scattering abroad gigantic rocky fragments, smiting the earth with unfruitfulness, and making it uninhabitable by the children of men. Man rarely visits these parts. And, indeed, why should h…
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