CHAPTER IV.PALESTINE.
After spending a day or two more in this desolate but interesting city, we resumed our journey on horseback, northward to Samaria, our exit being by the Damascus Gate on the north. Outside of the city at a very short distance are the “Tombs of the Kings”—a building with a stone front quite underground, containing several chambers, but all empty. The entrance is a very fine and rare specimen of what seems to be old Hebrew workmanship, and is cut in the solid rock. Their history is somewhat doubtful, but they seem to be very ancient. If permitted to hazard a conjecture I would say this locality was probably Calvary.
Passing the upper end of the Kedron and along Mount Scopus, from which eminence we had our farewell look at the Holy City, we descended along the sloping pathway of the Mountain of Benjamin. Our first day’s journey brought us to Bethel, where we found an open somewhat elevated plain full of stones, on one of which “of course” Jacob had rested his head, but the pillar he had set up cannot be recognised. It is a very retired spot indeed, and there was certainly nothing to disturb communication with the Heavens above. Looking out of our tents after sundown the multitude of constellations in the deep blue empyrean were remarkably brilliant. Here at a yet earlier period Abram had set up his tent, and here also at a later date the Kings of Israel defiled the plains by erecting an altar to Baal. The modern name of the place is Betin, a mere village. The ruins of the ancient town (originally Luz-thar Bethel—“the House of God”) are scarcely traceable. Joshua gave it to the tribe of Benjamin as their northern border,adjoining to Ephraim. In it was one of Samuel’s Courts of Judgment, and here the Ark was deposited for some time. Ai, which once so withstood Joshua, is about six miles distant.
As we had now commenced a journey of some duration, travelling by day and sleeping in tents, it may be well here to describe our cavalcade. Our own party consisted only of four, each riding on horseback, as did also our dragoman, but our tents, our beds, our whole luggage and provisions, were carried on donkeys’ backs—the burdens generally being much more bulky than the animals which carried them, and were accompanied by the dragoman’s assistants and our Arab “muleteer boys,” who rode and walked alternately. But we had been joined at Jaffa by a very agreeable party of four, with whom we mutually agreed that it would be advantageous and pleasant to travel in company, although they were also already provided with a dragoman and attendants of their own—bipeds and quadrupeds—quite as numerous as ours. Including thetwoFrenchcooks, therefore, with their travelling kitchens, our joint cavalcade consisted of no fewer than twenty-eight horses and donkeys, and travelling in single file, as we generally did, presented, as may be supposed, a somewhat formidable appearance. Our traveller friends consisted of an American party—a gentleman, his wife, and his son, who had resided some time in China, and another young gentleman, his friend. No home friends could have been more agreeable.
As before mentioned, the horses which we rode were spirited Arabians, and of small size. They almost never stumble, and my chief care was not to slip over their ears or their tail, as their alternating up and down course was as often at an angle of forty-five degrees or more as otherwise. In fact, I again confess my inability to give any idea of the roughness and unevenness of the roads, the word road indeed being entirely inapplicable to the “highways” or pathways of Judea generally,and the same remark applies to many portions of Samaria.
Among the other illusions of Eastern story is the care the Arab has for his horse. Instead of being kindly treated and tended, as I had always read, they are neither treated with kindness nor tended with ordinary care. Instead of kindly calling his horse by name when he has got loose, he chases him with a very large stone, which, when sufficiently near, he throws with force enough to seriously injure the animal. The horse, quite prepared for this, very dexterously eludes the missile, and this kind of hunt is sometimes a serious loss of time. I noticed several instances of their slyly pricking the horses with a short thick needle; whether from sheer cruelty or to serve some object of their own I could not ascertain.
As to the saddlery, it was quite a delusion—often broken, and as often mended with cords, on the strength of which depended in many situations the safety of the rider. With us,fortunately, no mishap of any note occurred; but I would advise any lady going the journey to provide an English saddle and girth at starting (which can be done at Alexandria), and not trust to the assurances of dragomans on this point. Fortunately, most of our party and all of the ladies were excellent riders; but in truth, the most inexperienced rider has not much difficulty in making the journey under ordinary circumstances if he is at all careful of his seat.
We generally rose daily soon after the sun, which was about six in the morning; and although it at first felt sensational to put our feet down on a cold stone, or in some cases on a few blades of grass, we soon liked the change, and, Mark Twain notwithstanding, we never once required to empty our boots of stray lizards! After performing our ablutions and breakfasting, the tents were struck, and we started on our journey for the day. The rest at noon for lunch was always most enjoyable—that is, if we got under a shade, which, however,was by no means always the case, for at noon the sun is high in the heavens, and trees are now few and far between in the land of Canaan; but even eaten in the sunshine we relished the oranges, the dates, and the figs as “pleasant fruit,” and very refreshing.
A day’s journey consisted of from twenty to thirty miles, which often occupied us seven or eight hours in the saddle, because our speed was slow, and the roads, if they must be called such, neither level nor straight. The distances are therefore generally described by hours’ ride instead of miles, for in some cases we might travel over three miles for one of forward progress. On reaching our journey’s end for the day, we generally found our tents erected and our dinner-table set out, graced with a pair of wax candles in tall silver candlesticks, and the dinner cooking in the distance upon a charcoal fire.
In the East no coal is seen, nor is wood used as fuel, but charcoal made of burnt wood. It is very portable, being carried in a brazenvessel, of basin shape, and, being lighted, gives out an intense heat, without either flame or smoke. It appeared to me to burn without attention for a very long time. Round about it the Arabs sleep, and watch, and sing, by turns continuously during the night, in the open air surrounding our tents, and the horses and donkeys are picketed immediately adjoining them.
An excellent dinner was served, consisting generally of soup and fowls, or meat of some kind—occasionally mutton—a few glasses of claret, and sometimes a cup of tea. These last the dragomans do not provide, and I believe they cannot well be obtained in Palestine. We owed them to a fortunate circumstance, and I found them the most refreshing and safest of beverages. Thus altogether we were provided with better dinners, and as superbly cooked, as any we had eaten since leaving Alexandria. This is a point of very great rivalry amongst dragoman cooks. Extremely simple and abstemiousthemselves, the Arabs must imagine that the Englishman’s god is his belly. Our table was served by the lieutenant of the dragoman, whom, as is usual, we observed to be the tallest and finest-looking Arab of the party—thoroughly trained, and, of course, politely ignorant of English.
Our evenings were very pleasantly spent in visiting each other in our tents on alternate evenings, when conversation, both interesting and amusing, filled up the time most pleasantly till eleven o’clock, when we generally retired to bed. Here we learned to sleep with enjoyment, notwithstanding the noises of the night, consisting almost invariably of the songs of the Arabs, monotonous in the extreme, but amply relieved by the howling of the jackals, the neighing of the horses, the braying of the donkeys, and, if we were near to a village, the barking of the dogs.
Once only we had a wakeful night. A storm of wind threatened, but did not quiteblow down our tents; and a still more exciting scene—if scene it can be called in total darkness—arising from our horses having broken loose. I had no idea that even Arab horses and men could have made such a Babel of noise and confusion. I am not sure that it was not done, or at least prolonged on purpose, for to me it seemed that nothing is so enjoyed by an Arab as noise, confusion, and mischief of whatever kind.
We found our travelling companions remarkably agreeable, well informed, and intelligent, and our evenings were greatly enlivened with home stories. The party, although Americans, were of Scotch families, and, to enliven the time, we occasionally got up a lecture or a recitation. The senior (Mr. Dickson of Scranton, Pa.—a gentleman who, I have since ascertained, is well known and highly respected in America) being well up in Burns and Scott, the former of whom he seemed to have nearly by heart, was the life of our party. Altogether the addition of thesefriends was a great acquisition to us in every respect. They had left the United States in the previous September for a voyage and journey round the world, travelling westward; and had now so far completed the circuit—for which they had allowed themselves twelve months; and I may here mention that I subsequently learned they really accomplished this to a day.
Passing from Judea into Samaria, as we now were, it may be well to say a few words upon the general aspect of the country as it appeared in my eyes, and without reference to the opinions of other travellers. I had of course understood from them generally that the country was no longer one flowing with milk and honey, but the reverse, still one-half of its desolation and barrenness had not been told, or at least not realized in my mind. Three things struck me forcibly. There are really no timber trees in Judea worthy the name; there is scarcely any soil upon the mountains (and Judea is very mountainous), and almost the whole landis covered with loose stones, not in heaps, but spread nearly all over the surface—in many places it might be called a land of stones. No doubt these facts have been stated by the historians, but I think must have been so in a way too much qualified, otherwise I would have been better prepared for the deplorable aspect everywhere around. Perhaps the pictures which illustrate the books on Palestine are more at fault than the letterpress, for they are almost all—whether true or not—made very picturesque, and generally contain one or two beautiful palms or other trees in the foreground; whereas I do not think I saw even one fine palm in Judea, and I fear they are as rare as orange trees are in this country.
The only trees one meets are the olives, which, however, are by no means plentiful in Judea, and mostly old and stunted-looking. In Samaria we saw several considerable plantations of them, but yet that country is also sadlydeficient in trees. Where now is the oak tree on which Absolom hung by his bushy locks? There is, I believe, only one remaining sufficiently large for this; and yet we read that the “Wood of Ephraim,” where he was defeated, destroyed more men than did the sword. And where is the sycamore tree up which Zaccheus climbed? I doubt if there be one such within many miles; and yet we know that Jericho was once richly clothed with trees and verdure, and called the “City of Palms.” Indeed, that Palestine generally was once extremely fertile, and rich in woods and verdure, is evident from the meaning of many of the Scripture proper names.[6]
The words grass, mown grass, and green grass, which frequently occur in Scripture, show that the country must have been rich in pastures. Then we read of the “High Places” and of the altars of Baal and Ashtaroth beingbuilt in the “woods” and “groves” on every high hill, and again of their being “burned down.” No doubt there are some trees left, but they are found in deep ravines, and generally very sparsely even there. However, that valuable fruit tree the olive—I presume the most important source of wealth in Palestine—is cultivated in some parts, especially in Samaria, although far too sparingly, but even this tree is by no means so grand as I had expected, and rarely seems twenty feet high. The leaf is of a very dark green, with a light grey coloured under-side, and when moved by the wind has a peculiar appearance.
There is along almost every little water-course a number of what are called trees, but they are generally willows or mere copse or brushwood. A tree of any description, of size sufficient to make an ordinary beam for building purposes, is quite a rarity—such are only to be found miles apart. The vine, so much alluded to in the Bible, is somewhat rarely seen; but that it was extensively grown isevident by the traces of terraces upon the steepest hills still abundantly visible.
Then as to flowers—“The Rose of Sharon” and the “Lily of the Valley” cannot be found. There are many wild flowers certainly, but generally they grow out of a “dry ground,” and have, with very good blossom, almost no green foliage. “Thorns and briers” are abundant, but with very little foliage also, and seem useful only for burning. The fig trees even are few and far between, and the orange, apricot, and almond still more so. The fields are not enclosed, except in some rare cases, where a wise husbandman has gathered the loose stones into piles around his border. Hedges are rare, but when seen they are generally formed of large cacti covered with dust, and having in the twilight a somewhat weird look. Cultivated lands in Judea are very rare, and even in Samaria are much covered with stones, making ploughing with the miserable piece of crooked wood a very superficial operation.
We felt surprised and ashamed oftener thanonce to see our dragoman (who frequently rode considerably in advance) lead his followers right through a field of growing corn, without the slightest compunction or any consideration for the husbandman, merely to save a few minutes’ time in going to see some object or reach some desired path. The inhabitants seem so accustomed to submission under any and every Turkish oppression that no complaint nor opposition was offered. We seldom met the inhabitants in the country, and when we did I fear their muttered words were oftener curses than blessings. Our dragoman acknowledged this; only once he willingly gave us the translation, and on that occasion it was a very rich blessing, I think won by giving a woman with a donkey the pathway instead of monopolizing it, as is too much the rule both with Turks and other travellers.
The wild birds mentioned in Scripture are still to be seen, and small ones are numerous, as also are bees; but we rarely heard the singing of birds in the land. Wild beasts—thelion, the bear, and leopard—are almost never seen, except perhaps in Galilee and in the vicinity of Carmel, notwithstanding that the population is now very sparse. Another proof this, I think, that the country must formerly have afforded much greater cover amongst its trees and rank vegetation for those animals so frequently mentioned in Scripture (even though the multitude of its caves was as great as now), seeing the population was then so large.
Of rivers, streams, and fountains we find frequent mention, but now these are, with a few exceptions, dry as Kedron, except during the rainy season, consequent on the destruction of the trees, and so barrenness is the result. Still there are several springs even in Judea, and Samaria is better watered generally, but in neither are they utilized as they ought to be.
Never before did the immense importance of trees adequately impress itself upon my mind. In our country they certainly ameliorate the climate, but in lower latitudes they are reallyinvaluable.Without them the rains wash away the soil from off the stony ground; but once planted wherever they can live, they by their own falling leaves gradually make soil out of the disintegration of the rocks. They attract rain, and by themselves and the vegetation which grows around they retain it for weeks, instead of its rushing down the bare hills in a single day, carrying off every loose grain of soil as at present. The same important purposes are served—to some extent—by snow, when the mountains are sufficiently high to retain it during the summer months, as Hermon does. Trees and vegetation generally are intimately connected with water and are mutually dependent, for if water fails they suffer, and if they are destroyed rain fails—a very obvious truth, but not appreciated by the Turks.
Even in our own country, I think every man who cuts down a tree should be bound to plant two young ones; but in the East generally, and even in Spain, the enormous evils resulting from an opposite policy are nowapparent, and remind one of the men who, during the storm, are said to “pull down the rooftree of their house to feed the fire.” And so with the Turks. Instead of encouraging the rearing of trees, they tax the patriot who plants them! Truly some writers have well described this Government as “desolating.” The once learned and wise Caliphs have now degenerated into perhaps the worst Governors that exist, destroying the finest and fairest portion of the East, and as locusts eating up every green thing.
With vegetation, the “shepherd” of the Scriptures and his flocks have nearly disappeared. In our journeyings I did not notice over two dozen flocks, and they would at home be reckoned small ones. These consisted partly of sheep and partly of goats, and they did not intermingle, for the one seemed to keep to the right hand and the other to the left. One-half of the sheep are black and the other of a whitish-brown colour; and, as of old, they follow the shepherd and seem to know his voice.The common domestic fowls are pretty plentiful, but camels, horses, asses, and oxen by no means so; mules are now more rarely seen.
I have dwelt on these matters somewhat more than travellers generally do, because I think it is well that to its fullest extent themagnificent desolationof the land of Canaan should be fully acknowledged. I do not say that writers conceal the facts, but they generally dwell, I think, too much upon whatever is good and beautiful and fertile. From a pardonable sentimental feeling they unconsciously throw a poetic veil over the sad scene, so that readers I fear are not fully aware of the ruined condition of that grand old land physically, morally, and politically. But the unwelcome truth needs no apology, for it corresponds too well with the Scriptural predictions. And if these have proved so true to the letter, much more may we believe will its promised restoration to more than pristine beauty, fertility, and size. I once or twice noticed a tendency to sneer at this desolation, and I have since seen aletter from one of a small party of probably very young naval officers who, having obtained leave of absence from their commanding officer off Jaffa to go up to Jerusalem, reported the Holy City and the “whole thing a sell, equal to any of Barnum’s.” When reading over the grand old Book, let us hope they may yet come to see this matter in its true light, as I believe all candid men must who seriously consider it.
And thus, as already described, we journeyed on from day to day, further details of which are unnecessary. Our next point of interest was Jacob’s Well. It is situated at the foot of Mount Gerizim, distant from the city of Sychar, the capital of Samaria, about a mile. Here we dismounted, and sat down by the mouth of this famous well, wearied with our journey. Considering the circumstances of Jacob, and the difficulty of the work of digging a well so very deep, and in a manner which would do credit to any builder of the present day, it is no wonder that the woman of Samaria looked back with feelings of thankfulnessto her father Jacob, “who gave us the well.”
This water seems to have been of rarely excellent quality, and whatever the Easterns consider as peculiarly valuable or sacred, they veil by erecting a dome or a tabernacle or other covering over it, as witness the holy sepulchre, the dome of the rock, the tombs of the prophets in the valley of Jehoshaphat, and hundreds of other instances elsewhere throughout Palestine. Here, accordingly, a small dome, or tabernacle, had been built by the Moslems, who venerate Moses and the prophets, but in course of years it had fallen down, filling up the well considerably, and as usual some rubbish remains, partially blocking up its mouth, with the aid of a number of the large stones, so that it is difficult to see into it. Moreover, every passing traveller seems to consider it necessary to pitch a stone into it. Notwithstanding all this it is still about eighty feet deep, and seven feet in diameter, with still a foot or so of water in the bottom.It is therefore extremely probable that originally the well had beenvery deep, as indeed the woman of Samaria states it to have been in her day—eighteen hundred years ago. In another century I believe it will be filled with stones up to the brim.
Seated round the well, just under the shadow of Mount Gerizim and in view of Joseph’s tomb adjacent, we listened with great interest to the 4th chapter of St. John’s Gospel, which Mr. Smith (one of our party) read, and the thrilling interest of the narrative will not soon be forgotten by any of us. “If,” said the Great Master, “thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water. The woman saith unto him, Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet. Our fathers worshipped in this mountain. And Jesus saith unto her, Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father. Ye worshipye know not what. But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.” “This mountain” to which she referred now towered right over our heads, and was at that time the Holy Mount of the Samaritans. What a wonderful sermon—and then the Preacher!—and the audience wasonepoor woman, and she a Samaritan and “a sinner!”
Remounting, we rode up to Sychar, no doubt by the same path taken by the woman with her waterpots. Its modern name is Nabulous, one of the most important towns of Palestine, having a Turkish garrison and numerous manufactories of soap, which is made from the fruit of the olives. It is seated near the west-end of the narrow valley lying between the mountains of Gerizim and Ebal, called in Scripture respectively the mount of blessing and the mount of cursing.This city was the most crowded we saw in Palestine—the houses are piled up in a confused fashion over dark arches, and the narrow streets looked dirty, although well whited externally. The people seemed to be fierce and fanatical sons of the Prophet. Here we encamped for the night in an open space beyond the city, beside a pretty stream of water flowing down from Gerizim, but not of good quality. There is along its course a show of verdure and small trees pleasant to behold, and all around are fields partially, but for Palestine well cultivated.
Next morning we were visited by the Patriarch or Chief of the Samaritans—now a very small body—I think he said 120 in all, and fast dying out. They have a small tabernacle in the city, which we visited, and saw the celebrated manuscript of the Samaritan Pentateuch, which he stated was the oldest MS. in the world. It is preserved upon two rollers, in a brass case, and watched with great and jealous care. He seemed poor, and had a book for visitors’ names, with the smallmoney gifts of each. He sat in the door of our tent for an hour, and seemed anxious for English news, being pretty well acquainted with our leading men in English ecclesiastical matters. He was attended by his “purse-bearer!” a lad who carried his Nargile pipe, which he smoked at intervals, and sipped a glass of our claret. On leaving he gave an invitation to sup with him, which, however, we found it not convenient to accept.
Gerizim contains on its summit remains of temples connected with the religious worship of Israel after the days of Jeroboam. There the small body of Samaritans now remaining perform sacrifices and other religious ceremonies in imitation of those instituted by Moses connected with the Passover. Those of our party who climbed the mountain, stated that the view from its summit was very extensive.
Next day we rode on to the City of Samaria, generally called “Sabaste,” which stands upon a fine rising ground north-eastward, with a very fertile-looking soil.Southward along the coast lies the Valley of Sharon, bounded on the west by the Mediterranean. The city now consists of a few houses of modern appearance, and some rows of ancient stone columns and other ruins, evidently of Roman erection, probably of the days of Herod. It seems to have been a royal residence, and once the capital of the kingdom of Samaria. It commands a fine and extensive view; on the north but distant horizon the range of Mount Carmel, north and east the great plains of Esdraelon, the battlefields of most of the great wars of Judah and Israel with their foreign invaders, and under its surface lie the bones of countless combatants with their weapons of war; beyond, Galilee in the distance with Mount Tabor; and eastward the hills of Samaria.
Camels and dromedaries are not now used in Palestine for travelling, but as beasts of burden. We occasionally met them carrying large building stones and heavy goods generally. As the path or track was too narrow for ourpassing them, I noticed that the camels, heavily laden as they were, always stepped aside, giving place to the far less noble quadrupeds—no doubt from habit. Indeed everything native must give precedence to the superior Turk and his friends, whether English or American. We oftener than once saw the skeletons of the dead camels picked clean by the vultures, and bleaching in the sun, exactly as shown in pictures. This noble-looking animal, sorely oppressed as he is, works on till he dies at his post—a picture of loyal endurance; but I think he does so under protest—expressed in his looks although not in word. One day I saw in Samaria a man and boy striking with a stick two camels, which they had just unmercifully overloaded. One of them seemed unable to rise, and when the blow was repeated the dumb creature turned round his head to look at his load, and then he looked his master in the face! The look struck me as almost human—a dignified rebuke and appeal as it were of instinct to reason—againsta monstrous injustice! I thought of Balaam’s ass, and that if this poor camel could have spoken he would have been equally eloquent. The East has many great wants, and one of them is the want of an Eastern Baroness Burdett Coutts and her Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
In our wanderings through the land we saw many of the “High Places” of Scripture, where, amidst the groves and oaks, the idolatrous kings of both Judah and Israel again and again erected altars to the gods of the heathen around them. It seems very natural to believe that the first idolatrous religion had been the worship of the Sun, and it is certainly possible to conceive that to the great architect of the Tower of Babel and the advanced thinkers of that age among the proud and intelligent descendants of Ham, the worship of the heavenly bodies would not only appear consonant with the highest reason and true natural science, but such a religion may originally have beencelebrated by them in a manner at once sensuous, æsthetic, and refined. However, like every evil and falsehood, this idolatry appears to have gradually become more and more senseless, absurd, and cruel as the centuries rolled on, and as it spread over the face of the earth, so true it is that “that which is born of error ever begets evil.”
Pre-eminent amongst idolaters were the Canaanites, who seem to have reached its very lowest depth. Greece had not yet fully concealed this Baal or Sun worship under its absurd although beautiful poetical mythology. Egypt had debased it to the worship of golden calves, “four-footed beasts and creeping things,” but the Canaanites had developed the evil into the worship of gods, the very personification of cruelty and abomination beyond expression. And so the decree went forth to Joshua that they had filled up their cup, and must now be rooted out of the land.
And yet the remnant of these spared peoples not only proved thorns in the side of theHebrews in their every time of weakness, but gradually corrupted their worship, even seducing them from their allegiance to their King Jehovah, to Baal and Ashtaroth, and Dagon and Moloch! Surely nothing is more unaccountable amongst the many perversities of these Israelites than this hankering after the gods of their enemies—and such gods too!
Of the exact nature of the various ancient idolatrous worship there is much uncertainty, but it must have been very ensnaring when even so perfect a man as Job alludes to the possibility of his falling into this sin. “If,” said he, “I beheld the sun when it shined or the moon walking in brightness, and my heart had been secretly enticed, or my mouth had kissed my hand: This also were an iniquity to be punished by the judge; for I should have denied the God that is above.” And it certainly contained much of the æsthetic and sensuous when so wise a man as Solomon fell under its enticements. For the Jews indeedit, must have had some peculiar and powerful temptation that they were beguiled into it so willingly, notwithstanding the heavy punishments it brought upon them again and again, and the awful warnings and denunciations of their Prophets. From Moses downwards they were continually being reminded that their King was a “jealous God”—and both by awful threatening and gracious promises that on their true allegiance to Him depended their prosperity, and even their existence as a nation. And yet nothing seemed sufficient to eradicate this plague spot until after nearly a thousand years of alternate temporary punishments and repentings—all unavailing. The doom long foretold fell—the dispersion of the Israelites as a nation and the seventy years’ captivity of the Jews. These calamities certainly completely cured them, and ever since idolatry has, I believe, been held by the Jews in great detestation.
It is a somewhat curious coincidence that the Arabs, the descendants of Ishmael, who alsofell into gross idolatry, now hold it in the same detestation. This at least was one good work Mahomet did—Moslems and Jews, hating each other, agree in this and in believing that they alone of all the world—not excepting the “Christians”—are free of idolatry. This detestation of idolatry I believe to be the chief ground of the Moslem’s contempt and dislike to the religion of the “Christians.” Of Protestant Christianity indeed they are wholly ignorant, nor do they anywhere, so far as I observed, come into contact with it.
During the last few years immense additional materials have been and still are being discovered of extreme antiquity, and in both hemispheres, all more or less seeming to confirm the veracity of Moses. The present generation has been putting the grand old prophet upon his trial, and now year by year witnesses dusty with antiquity are rising from their graves to bear him witness. Like Banquo’s ghost, they rise with forty hoary centuries on their crowns to push from their stoolsthe camp followers of the modern “men of culture.”
There certainly are and always have been a few honest doubters—sometimes men of the highest culture—and generally distinguished by a silence eminently golden. Much learning and research have already been expended in speculations bearing upon the subject, but to use the language of Mr. Ruskin, “absolutely right no one can be in such matters; nor does a day pass without convincing every honest student of antiquity of some partial error, and showing him better how to think, and where to look. But I knew that there was no hope of my being able to enter with advantage on the fields of history opened by the splendid investigation of recent philologists; though I could qualify myself, by attention and sympathy, to understand, here and there, a verse of Homer’s, as the simple people did for whom he sung.” And again, “Let me ask pardon of all masters in physical science, for any words of mine, that may ever seem to failin the respect due to their great powers of thought, or in the admiration due to the far scope of their discovery. But I will be judged by themselves, if I have not bitter reason to ask them to teach us more than they have yet taught.”
Since then we have been receiving some strange theories certainly, but no “teachings,” and plain people have yet more “bitter reason” to ask anew for teaching in the direction of tracing all the facts of antiquity with these recent discoveries, and with the hieroglyphics and writings of the oldest historians, without, as hitherto, omitting Moses. If this were done in the line of the most ancient Idolatries, after the manner and spirit of Max Müller in the line of Language, perhaps some traces might be obtained more valuable than volumes of theory, although less sensational.
This, indeed, is a matter in which we must wait. No authority exists in any one whatever to decide as umpire amongst the endless decisions which only “more embroil the fray,”and “make confusion worse confounded.” The different theories of so-called scientific experts only prove that they really know nothing with certainty more than “the simple people” who sit at their feet. If any one will take the trouble to collate the hundred and one different theories—scientific, philosophical, and literary—of the self-named “advanced thinkers” even of this generation, perhaps he would be better cured of doubts, if he has any, than by any elaborate “vindications” of the old Book. Surely a humble teachable spirit like the great Newton’s is more likely to see the way than that of some self-confident philosophers of our day, who, like the lost sheep of the parable, climb up to the mountain top and there from its uppermost peak gaze up into the blue empyrean, and demand, as it were, of the great Creator, to give an account of His actings for their review!
If not ridiculous, surely such presumption (even in the interest of so-called science) issublime![7]What if there be in these questions something in which science can have no standing, unless perhaps to shed by the reflection of its little tapers just enough light to make the darkness visible? It may be that much of the present confusion and conflict of opinion arises out ofwords, and I will close this digression by again quoting “Athena.” “On heat and force, life is inseparably dependent; and I believe, also, on a form of substance which the philosophers call ‘protoplasm.’ I wish they would use English instead of Greek words. When I want to know why a leaf is green, they tell me it is coloured by ‘chlorophyll,’ which at firstsounds very instructive; but if they would only say plainly that a leaf is coloured green by a thing which is called ‘green leaf,’ we should see more preciselyhow far we had got.”
Our journey from Sabaste with its Romanesqueruins[8]was now southward through the great plains of Sharon to Jaffa. The soil was rich-looking, and we passed several small streams, but, as elsewhere, stones were too abundant, and the cultivation very defective. The barley crop was just coming into ear, but seemed very poor for such a soil.
Here we re-embarked for Beyrout by a steamer of the Austrian Lloyd’s fleet—a very comfortable vessel in every respect: the cabin arrangements were especially so, and I observed her engines were made in this country. The weather was moderate, and so we had no difficulty in embarking. Our passage money was paid by Braham, as he had discharged our horses and retinue, which otherwise he would have had to take all the way through Galilee and the Hauran to Damascus and back to Jaffa. He seemed quite willing that we should go by this sea route and diligence journeyinstead, although a longer circuit, so that I presume it had not cost him more. To us it was an agreeable change, although we had enjoyed our tent life very much indeed. The weather had been excellent and dry, and as to temperature, we had experienced all varieties between a tropical and a coolness quite bracing.
And so we bade a tender and silent adieu to the “Holy Land”—interesting exceedingly even in its ruins.
“Still ’mid its relics lives a nameless charm,By age unwithered, and in ruin warm.”
“Still ’mid its relics lives a nameless charm,By age unwithered, and in ruin warm.”
“Still ’mid its relics lives a nameless charm,By age unwithered, and in ruin warm.”
“Still ’mid its relics lives a nameless charm,
By age unwithered, and in ruin warm.”