{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_55958/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_55958","id":"gutenberg_55958","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55958","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Travel Writing","Palestine -- Description and travel"],"text":"[Illustration: JERUSALEM.\n\nFrom the traditional spot on the Mount of Olives where Christ wept over\n the city.]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration:\n\n THE\n HOLY LAND\n\n PAINTED BY\n JOHN FULLEYLOVE, R.I.\n\n DESCRIBED BY\n JOHN KELMAN, D.D.\n\n A&C BLACK L^{TD}\n 4.5.6 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.1.]\n\n\n\n\n _Printed in Great Britain by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.\n\n _First Edition, with 93 illustrations, published in October 1902\n Reprinted in 1904 and 1912\n Second Edition, revised, with 32 illustrations, published in 1923_\n\n\n AGENTS\n\n AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n 64 & 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK\n\n AUSTRALASIA THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS\n 205 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE\n\n CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.\n ST. MARTIN\u2019S HOUSE, 70 BOND ST., TORONTO\n\n INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.\n MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY\n 309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA\n INDIAN BANK BUILDINGS, MADRAS\n\n\n\n\nPreface\n\n\nThe secrets of satisfactory travel are mainly two--to have certain\nquestions ready to ask; and to detach oneself from preconceptions, so as\nto find not what one expects, or desires to find, but what is there.\nThese rules I endeavoured to follow while in the Holy Land. As to this\nbook, I have tried to write it \u201cwith my eye on the object\u201d--to describe\nthings as they were seen, and to see them again while describing them.\nThe extent to which this ideal has been reached, or missed, will be the\nmeasure of the book\u2019s success or failure.\n\nNo attempt has been made to add anything original to the scientific\nknowledge of Palestine. For that task I am not qualified either by\nsufficient travel or by expert study of the subject. On the other hand,\nthis is not merely an itinerary, or journal of experiences and\nadventures of the road. I have freely introduced notes from my journal\nin illustration of characteristics of the country and its life, and have\nclaimed the privilege of digressing in various directions. But the main\nobject has been to give a record of impressions rather than of\nincidents.\n\nThese impressions are arranged in three parts, as they bear upon the\ngeography, the history, and the spirit of Syria. They have been\ncorrected and amplified by as wide reading as the short time at my\ndisposal allowed. A few of the books read or consulted are referred to\nin footnotes, but many others have helped me. To append a list of them\nto so small a contribution to the subject as this, would be but to\nremind the reader of the old fable, _Nascetur ridiculus mus_. I must,\nhowever, acknowledge with much gratitude my obligation to two volumes\nabove all others--Major (now Colonel) Conder\u2019s _Tent Work in Palestine_,\nand Professor George Adam Smith\u2019s _Historical Geography of the Holy\nLand_. To these every chapter is indebted more or less, some chapters\nvery deeply. Among the pleasures which this task has brought with it,\nnone is greater than the intimate acquaintance with these two works\nwhich it entailed.\n\nWith Professor Smith I have a more personal bond of obligation than the\ninvaluable help I have had from his book. Last year we rode and camped\ntogether from Hebron to Damascus, back over the eastern spurs of Hermon\nto the coast, and north by Tyre and Sidon to Beyrout. All who were in\nthat party know, as no words can express, how much insight and\nsuggestion we owed to the leader who interpreted the land for us so\nbrilliantly and with such kindness. For my own part I feel that at times\nit has been difficult to distinguish between impressions of my own and\nthose which have been unconsciously borrowed from him. If I have\nborrowed freely, I am sure he will allow me to count that among the many\nprivileges of our long acquaintance, and as a token of my admiration for\nhis genius and gratitude for his friendship.\n\nJOHN KELMAN.\n\nEDINBURGH, 1902.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHERS\u2019 NOTE\n\nFor the purposes of this reissue the author has revised the work and\nslightly abridged it, but no attempt has been made to describe the\nchanged conditions consequent on the War.\n\n_September 1923._\n\n\n\n\nContents\n\n\nPART I.--THE LAND, pp. 1 to 84\n\nCHAPTER PAGE\n\n1. THE COLOUR OF THE LAND 7\n\n2. THE DESERT 20\n\n3. THE LIFE OF THE LAND 37\n\n4. THE WATERS OF ISRAEL 51\n\n5. BROWN VILLAGES, WHITE TOWNS, AND A GREY CITY 65\n\n\nPART II.--THE INVADERS, pp. 85 to 172\n\n1. ISRAELITE 88\n\n2. GR\u00c6CO-ROMAN 98\n\n3. CHRISTIAN 115\n\n4. MOSLEM 137\n\n5. CRUSADER 157\n\n\nPART III.--THE SPIRIT OF SYRIA, pp. 173 to 245\n\n1. THE LIGHTER SIDE OF THINGS 177\n\n2. THE SHADOW OF DEATH 190\n\n3. THE SPECTRAL 205\n\n4. THE LAND OF THE CROSS 226\n\n5. RESURRECTION 239\n\n\n\n\nList of Illustrations\n\n\n1. Jerusalem, from the traditional spot on the Mount of\nOlives where Christ wept over the City _Frontispiece_\n\n FACING PAGE\n\n2. The Mount of Temptation, from Jericho 9\n\n3. Cana of Galilee 16\n\n4. On the Road from Jerusalem to Bethany 25\n\n5. The Hills round Nazareth, from the Plain of Esdraelon 32\n\n6. Mount Hermon, from the Slopes of Tabor 41\n\n7. Jerusalem--The Pool of Hezekiah 48\n\n8. The Golden Gate, from the Garden of Gethsemane 57\n\n9. The Lake of Galilee, looking North from Tiberias 64\n\n10. The Fountain of the Virgin at Nazareth 73\n\n11. Joppa, from the Sea 80\n\n12. The Lake of Galilee, looking South from Tiberias 89\n\n13. Site of the ancient City of Samaria 96\n\n14. The Forecourt of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre 105\n\n15. The Rotunda and Chapel of the Holy Sepulchre 112\n\n16. The Dome of the Rock (Mosque of Omar), as seen\nfrom the Porch on the North Side of the Mosque\nof El Aksa 121\n\n17. The Dome of the Rock (Mosque of Omar), from the\nBarracks near the Site of the Tower of Antonia 128\n\n18. Interior of the Mosque of El Aksa, from the S.E. 137\n\n19. The Temple Area and the Mount of Olives, from Mount\nZion 144\n\n20. The West Side of the Temple Area, from the Barracks\nnear the Site of the Tower of Antonia 153\n\n21. Entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre 160\n\n22. Interior of the Dome of the Chain, looking North 169\n\n23. Interior of the Dome of the Rock (Mosque of Omar),\nfrom the S.E. 176\n\n24. The Mount of Olives, from a House-top on Mount Zion 185\n\n25. The Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem, from a Garden\non the opposite Hill 192\n\n26. Jerusalem--Exterior of the Golden, or Beautiful, Gate 201\n\n27. The Tomb of Rachel, on the Road from Jerusalem to\nHebron 208\n\n28. The Judean Desert and the Dead Sea, from the highest\npoint of the Mount of Olives 217\n\n29. Valley of Hinnom, with Hill of Offence 224\n\n30. The Rock-cut Tombs of the Valley of Jehoshaphat 233\n\n31. The N.E. End of Jerusalem and Mizpah, from the\nMount of Olives 240\n\n32. The Plain of Jericho, looking towards the Mountains of\nMoab 244\n\n_Sketch-map on page viii_\n\n[Illustration: SKETCH-MAP OF PALESTINE.]\n\n\n\n\nPART I\n\nTHE LAND\n\n\nA journey through the Holy Land may reasonably be expected to be in some\nsort a sacramental event in a man\u2019s life. Spiritual things are always\nnear us, and we feel that we have a heritage in them; yet they\nconstantly elude us, and need help from the senses to make them real and\ncommanding. Such sacramental help must surely be given by anything that\nbrings vividly to our realisation those scenes and that life in the\nmidst of which the Word was made flesh. The more clearly we can gain the\nimpression of places and events in Syria, the more reasonable and\nconvincing will Christian faith become.\n\nEverything which revives the long past has power to quicken the\nimagination, and site-hunters and relic-hunters in any field have much\nto say for themselves. Now, apart altogether from the Christian story,\nSyria has the spell of a very ancient land. The mounds that break the\nlevel on the plain of Esdraelon represent six hundred years of buried\nhistory for every thirty feet of their height. Among the first objects\npointed out to us in Palestine was a perforated stone which serves now\nas ventilator for a Christian meeting-house in Lebanon, but which was\nformerly a section of Zenobia\u2019s aqueduct. In Syria the realisation of\nthe past is continual, and the centuries mingle in a solemn confusion.\nIts modern life seems of little account, and is in no way the rival of\nthe ancient. In London, or even in Rome, the new world jostles the old;\nin Palestine the old is so supreme as to seem hardly conscious of the\nnew.\n\nAll this reaches its keenest point in connection with men\u2019s worship; and\nwhat a long succession of worshippers have left their traces here! The\nprimitive rock-hewn altar, the Jewish synagogue, the Greek temple, the\nChristian church, the Mohammedan mosque--all have stood in their turn on\nthe same site. His must be a dull soul surely who can feel no sympathy\nwith the Moslem, or even with the heathen worship. These religions too\nhad human hearts beating in them, and wistful souls trying by their help\nto search eternity. To the wise these dead faiths are full of meaning.\nThrough all their clashing voices there sounds the cry of man to his\nGod--a cry more often heard and answered than we in our self-complacency\nare sometimes apt to think.\n\nThe sacramental quality of the Holy Land is of course felt most by those\nwho seek especially for memories and realisations of Jesus Christ.\nWithin the pale of Christianity there are several different ways of\nregarding the land as holy, and most of them lead to disappointment. The\nGreek and Roman Catholic Churches vie with one another in their passion\nfor sites and relics there, and seem to lose all sense of the\ndistinction between the sublime and the grotesque in their eagerness\nfor identifications. A Protestant counterpart to this mistaken zeal is\nthat of the huntsmen of the fields of prophecy, who cannot see a bat\nfluttering about a ruin or a mole turning up the earth without turning\necstatically to Hebrew prophetic books,--as if these were not the habits\nof bats and moles all the world over. Apart from either of these, there\nare others less orthodox but equally superstitious who have some vague\nnotion of occult and magic qualities which differentiate this from all\nother regions of the earth. Benjamin Disraeli and Pierre Loti are\nrepresentatives of this point of view. The former is persuaded that the\nland \u201cmust be endowed with marvellous and peculiar qualities\u201d; and the\nhero of his _Tancred_ seeks and finds there supernatural communications\nfrom the unseen world. The latter tells in his _J\u00e9rusalem_ how he went\nto Palestine with the hope that some experience might be given him which\nwould revive his lost faith in Christianity. He returned, a disappointed\nsentimentalist. The saddening and yet fascinating narrative reaches its\nclimax in Gethsemane, where, beating his brow in the darkness against an\nolive tree, he waited (as he himself confesses) for he knows not what.\nHis words are: \u201cNon, rien: personne ne me voit, personne ne m\u2019\u00e9coute,\npersonne ne me r\u00e9pond.\u201d\n\nThe belief in miracle is always difficult: nowhere is it so difficult as\non the traditional site. The earth is just earth there as elsewhere; and\nthe sky seems almost farther above it. The rock is solid rock; the\nwater, air, trees, hills are uncompromising terrestrial realities. It\nis wiser to abandon the attempt at forcing the supernatural to reveal\nitself, and to turn to the human side of things as the surest way of\nultimately arriving at the divine. When that has been deliberately done\nthe reward is indeed magnificent. An unexpected and overwhelming sense\nof reality comes upon the sacred narrative. These places and the life\nthat inhabited them are actualities, and not merely items in an ancient\nbook or the poetic background of a religious experience. More\nparticularly when you look upward to the hills, you find that your help\nstill cometh from them. Their great sky-lines are unchanged, and the\nlong vistas and clear-cut edges which you see are the same which filled\nthe eyes of prophets and apostles, and of Jesus Christ Himself.\n\nIt is this, especially as it regards the Saviour of mankind, that is the\nmost precious gain of Syrian travel. Now and again it comes on one with\noverpowering force. Sailing up the coast, this impression haunted the\nlong hours. As we gazed on the mountains, and the image of them sank\ndeeper and deeper, the thought grew clear in all its wonder that\nsomewhere among these heights He had wandered with His disciples, and\nsat down by the sides of wells to rest. In camp at Jericho we were\nconfronted by an uncouth, blunt-topped mountain mass, thrusting itself\naggressively up on the Judean side, in itself a very rugged and\nmemorable mountain-edge. Not till the light was fading, and the bold\noutline struck blacker and blacker against the sky, did the fact\nsuddenly surprise us that this was Quarantana, the Mountain of\nTemptation. Then we understood that wilderness story in all its\nunprotected loneliness, and we almost saw the form of the Son of Man.\n\nThus, as day after day he rides through the country, the traveller finds\nnew meaning in the words, \u201cI have glorified Thee _on the earth_.\u201d An\ninexpressible sense possesses him of the reality of Jesus Christ. These\npathways were, indeed, once trodden by His feet; through these valleys\nHe carried the lamp of life; under these stars He prayed; through this\nsunshine He lay in a rock-hewn grave. To a man\u2019s dying day he will be\nnearer Christ for this. The chief sorrow of the Christian life for most\nof us is the difficulty of realisation. At times we have all had to flog\nup our imagination to the \u201crealising sense\u201d of Christ. After this\njourney that necessity is gone. It is almost as if in long past years we\nhad seen Him there, and heard Him speak. The divine mystery of Christ is\nall the more commanding when the human fact of Jesus has become almost a\nmemory rather than a belief.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE COLOUR OF THE LAND\n\n\nEvery land has a scheme of colour of its own, and while form and outline\nare the first, they are not the most permanent nor the deepest\nimpressions which a region makes upon its travellers. It is the colour\nof the land which slowly and almost unconsciously sinks in upon the\nbeholder day by day. We observe the outlines of a scene; we remember its\ncolouring.\n\nThis is especially true of Palestine. Nothing about it is more\ndistinctive than its colour-scheme; and nothing is perhaps less familiar\nto those who have not actually seen it. Syria may be treated as if it\nwere Italy, or even Egypt--in hard intense colouring; or it may be\ntreated as if it were England, in strong tones but with a certain homely\nsoftening of edge. Neither of these modes is true to Syria. Its\nedge-lines are sharp, but they are traced in such faint shades as to\nproduce an effect very difficult either to reproduce or to describe, and\nyet impossible to forget.\n\nThe colours are manifold, and they vary considerably with the seasons of\nthe year. Yet the bare hill-sides (which form the greater masses of\ncolour in most landscapes), the desert, and the distant mountain ranges,\nare ever the same. Most travellers make their first acquaintance with\nPalestine in Judea, entering it from Jaffa. When the plains are behind\nyou, and you are in among the valleys up which the road climbs to\nJerusalem, you at once recognise the fact that a new and surprising\nworld of colour has been entered. In the valley-bottom there may be but\na dry watercourse, or perhaps a rusty strip of cultivated land; but\nabove you there is sure to be the outcrop of white and grey limestone.\nIn some places it appears in characterless and irregular blotches whose\ngrotesque intrusion seems to confuse and caricature the mountain side.\nThis is, however, only occasional, and the usual and characteristic\nappearance is that of long and flowing lines of striation which\ngenerally follow pretty closely the curve of the sky-line. The colours\nof these strata are many. You have rich brown bands, dark red, purple,\nyellow, and black ones; but these are toned down by the dominant grey of\nthe broader bands, and the general effect is an indistinct grey with a\nbluish tinge, to which the coloured bands give a curiously artificial\nand decorative appearance. As a work of Art Judea is most interesting;\nas part of Nature it is almost incredible.\n\nIn the northern district, near Bethel, everything yields to stone, and\nthe brighter colours disappear. The mountain slopes shew great naked\nribs and bars--the gigantic stairs of Jacob\u2019s dream. On the heights your\nhorse slips and picks his way over long stretches of\n\n[Illustration: THE MOUNT OF TEMPTATION, FROM JERICHO.\n\nThe Mount of Temptation is one of the spurs of the mountains which\noverlook the deep valley of the Jordan on its western side. The central\npeak is the traditional site of the Temptation of Christ.]\n\nsmooth white rock; in the valleys the soil is buried under innumerable\nboulders and fragments of broken rock.\n\nThe whole land is stony, but Judea shews this at its worst. It is an\nimmense stone wedge thrust into Palestine from east to west. South of it\nlie the fertile valleys of Hebron, with their wealth of orchard and\nplantation. North of it open the \u201cfat valleys\u201d of Samaria, winding among\nrounded hills planted to the top with olives, or terraced for vines.\nOver these, here and there, a red cliff may hang, or the irrigation\nditches may furrow and interline a vale of dove-coloured clay. But while\nthe green of Judea is for the most part but the thinnest veil of sombre\nolive-green, a mere setting for the rocks, Samaria is a really green\nland, variegated by stone.\n\nIn the north of Samaria the land sinks gradually upon the Plain of\nEsdraelon. As we saw it first it was covered by a yellow mist through\nwhich nothing could be seen distinctly. But afterwards, viewed in its\nwhole expanse from the top of Tabor in clear sunlight, the great\nbattlefield of the Eastern world appeared in characteristic garb--\u201cred\nin its apparel,\u201d with the very colour of the blood which has so often\ndrenched it.\n\nGalilee repeats the limestone outcrop of Judea, but in far gentler\nfashion, the undergrowth and trees softening almost every landscape, and\nthe mountains leading the eye along bold sky-lines to rest on that form\nof beauty and of light which masters and watches over the whole\nland--the white Hermon. Hermon is always white. But sometimes when\nclouds are forming rapidly around its summit, it is a wonder of\nbrightness. On no other mountain, surely, was it that \u201ca bright cloud\novershadowed\u201d Jesus and his three friends. Even now, on many a summer\nday, Hermon is lost in a changing glory of frosted silver, when the sun\nstrikes upon its cloudwork, and the long trails of snow in the corries\nstream towards the plain below.\n\nThe limestone runs on into Ph\u0153nicia, and seems to grow whiter there.\nNothing could be finer than the valleys east of Tyre at harvest time,\nwhen the fields of ripe grain wave below cliffs white as marble, and the\nwhole scene, with its foreground of brilliantly robed reapers, is a\nstudy in white and gold. But in the higher valleys of Ph\u0153nicia the rock\nbreaks through a rich red soil, which in parts is gemmed with the\ncurious and beautiful \u201cAdonis stones\u201d--little egg-shaped bits of\nsandstone, dyed to the heart of them with deep crimson, as if they had\nbeen steeped in newly shed blood. Little wonder if the women of old days\n\u201cwept for Tammuz\u201d at the sight of them.\n\nThe thing most characteristic of Syrian colour is its faintness and\ndelicacy. Pierre Loti, who in this matter is a witness worthy of all\nregard, is constantly ending the colour adjectives in his Syrian books\nwith _-atre_--\u201cyellowish,\u201d \u201cbluish,\u201d \u201cgreenish,\u201d etc. The general\nimpression is of dim and faded tints, put on, as it were, in thin\nwashes. In the stoniest regions there seems to be no colour at all, as\nif the sun had bleached them. The curious colouring of the Judean\nvalleys, which has been described, is never aggressive, and it takes\nsome carefulness of observation to see anything in them more than a blue\ngreen in the sparsely-planted olive-groves fading into faint greenish\ngrey above. The valleys of ripe sesame and vetch are washed into the\npicture in pale yellow or yellow ochre. Where tilled earth appears it is\ngenerally a variegated expanse of light brown, or pink, or terra-cotta.\nThe eastern slopes of Hermon, below the snow, shew vertical stripes like\nthose of the haircloth and jute garments of the peasants, washed out\nwith rain and sun; or they are spread upon the roots of the mountain\nlike some vast Indian shawl cunningly and minutely interwoven with red\nand green threads, but worn almost threadbare. As you approach a village\nin strong sunlight, you see it as a dark brown mass shaded angularly\nwith black; but it seems to float above a mist of the airiest purple\nsheen, where the thinly-planted iris-flowers stand among the graves\nbefore the walls. The Sea of Galilee, as we saw it, was light blue; the\nDead Sea was light green, with a haze of evaporation rendering it even\nfainter in the distance.\n\nIf this be true of the near, it is doubly so of the distant, landscape.\nIn a country so mountainous and so sheer-cleft as Palestine, distant\nviews are seen for the most part as vistas, the \u201cland that is very far\noff\u201d revealing itself at the end of some =V=-shaped gorge or towering over\nsome intermediate mountain range. Of course distant views are faint in\nall lands, but in Palestine the clear air keeps them distinct with\nclean-cut edge, however faint they are. Thus there is perhaps nothing\nmore delicate and _spirituel_ in the world than those faint dreamlike\nmountains in the extreme distance of Syrian vistas--the hills east of\nJordan grey, with a mere suspicion of blue in them, or the lilac and\nheliotrope mountains of the desert which form the magic background of\nDamascus looking eastward.\n\nReference has been made to the irises (the \u201clilies of the field\u201d) near\nvillages. These are but typical of the general sheen of that carpet of\nwild flowers which every spring-time spreads over the land. They are of\nevery colour. There are scarlet poppies and crimson anemones, blue dwarf\ncornflowers, yellow marigolds, white narcissus (said to be the Rose of\nSharon); but here they seldom grow in patches of strong hue. Each flower\nblooms apart, and the sheen of them is delicate and suggestive rather\nthan gorgeous. They seem to share the reticence and shyness of the land,\nand tinge rather than paint it. Even the animal life conforms to this\ndainty rule; lizards are everywhere, but their colouring is that of\ntheir environment, now stone-grey, now wine-red, now straw-coloured.\nChameleons are anything you please--green in growing corn, black among\nbasalt rocks. Tortoises are blue at the sulphur springs, brown or slate\nin the muddy banks of streams.\n\nThis faintness is, however, but half the truth of the colour of Syria.\nEverywhere it is rendered emphatic by certain vivid splashes of the most\ndaring brilliance. Wherever springs are found you have instances of this\ncontrast, and Palestine is essentially the land of bright foregrounds\nthrown up against dim backgrounds.\n\nThe Jordan valley is the greatest example, running south along its whole\nlength, \u201ca green serpent\u201d between the pale mountains of the east and the\nfaint mosaic of the western land. Its jungle is uncompromisingly\ndistinct throughout the entire course, and its colour is living green,\nwith a white flash of broken water or a quiet flow of brown bursting\nhere and there through the verdure. Other streams are similarly marked,\nwith luxurious undergrowth of reeds, varied by clumps of hollyhock or\nedged with winding ribbons of magenta oleander. But the most striking\noases of this kind are the valley of Shechem and the city of Damascus.\nThere is a hill seldom visited by tourists, but well worth climbing, set\nin the broad vale of Makhna, right opposite Jacob\u2019s Well. North and\nsouth past the foot of this hill runs the broad valley. It is edged on\nthe western side by the continuous line of the central mountain range of\nSamaria--continuous except for one great gash, where, as if a giant\u2019s\nsword had cleft the range, the valley of Shechem enters that of Makhna\nat right angles. The whole landscape is in dim colour except for that\nvalley of Shechem. Ebal and Gerizim guard its eastern end, dull and\nrocky both. But the valley which they guard is fed by countless springs\nand intersected by rivulets, so that below the shingle of their slopes\nthere spreads a fan-shaped expanse of intensely vivid green, like a\ncarpet flung out from Nablus between the mountains. The lower edge of\nthe green is broken by the white wall of the enclosure of Jacob\u2019s Well,\nand the cupola of Joseph\u2019s tomb. Damascus--surely the most bewitching\nof cities--owes its witchery to the same cause. The river Abana spends\nitself upon the city. As you approach it from the south it discloses\nitself as a mass of bold outline and high colour in the midst of a great\nfield of verdure, flanked on the west by precipitous hills of sand and\nrock--sheer tilted desert. When you climb those hills you see the white\ncity, jewelled with her minarets of many hues, resting on a cloth of\ndark green velvet whose edge is sharply defined. Immediately beyond that\nedge the sand begins, stretching into the farther desert through paler\nand paler shades of rose and yellow to the lilac hills in the eastern\ndistance.\n\nIt is not only the water-springs, however, that provide the land with\nvivid foregrounds. Loti describes a little sand-hill in the desert \u201call\nbespangled with mica,\u201d which \u201csets itself out, shining like a silver\ntumulus.\u201d Such bold and detached features are by no means uncommon even\non the west of the Jordan. The name of the cliff \u201cBozez\u201d in Michmash\nmeans \u201cshining,\u201d and there are many shining rocks in these\nvalleys--either masses of smooth limestone, or dark basalt rocks, from\nwhose dripping surface the sun is reflected in blinding splendour after\nrain. Even without such reflection the sudden intrusion of black rock\nwill often give character to an otherwise neutral landscape.\n\nBut the sun is the magician of Syria, who bleaches her and then throws\nup against his handiwork the boldest contrasts of strong light and\nshade. No one who has seen the crimson flush of sunset on the olives,\nor the sudden change of a grey Judean hill-side to rich orange, or the\nwhole eastern cliffs of the Sea of Galilee turned to the likeness of\nflesh-coloured marble, will be likely to forget the picture. Loti\u2019s\nwonderful description of desert sunsets--\u201cincandescent violet, and the\nred of burning coals\u201d--is not overdrawn. Shadows will transform the\npoorest into the richest colouring. The tawny desert changes to the\nluscious dark of lengthening indigo at the foot of a great rock; and the\nshadows of clouds float across Esdraelon, changing the red plain to deep\nwine-colour as they pass. Silhouettes are of daily occurrence in that\ncrisp air. One scene in particular made an indelible impression. It was\na village on terraced heights, thrown black against a gold and\nheliotrope sunset. The figures of Arabs standing or sitting statuesque\nupon the sky-line were magnified to the appearance of giant guardians of\nthe walls, and the miserable little hamlet might have been an\nimpregnable fortress.\n\nThe inhabitants have entered with full sympathy into the spirit of this\nplay of foreground. They are spectacular if they are anything. Their\nreligion forbids them all practice of the graphic arts, and most of the\nWestern pictures which are to be seen in churches are execrable enough\nto reconcile them to the restriction. But they obey the law in small\nthings only to break it by transforming themselves and their\nsurroundings into one great picture. Their clothing, their buildings,\nand their handiwork are a brilliant foil to the dull background. From\nthem Venice learned her bright colouring, and there are few English\nhomes which have not borrowed something from them.\n\nIn part, this is thrust upon them by the sun. The interiors of houses\nare all Rembrandt work, as Conder has happily remarked. The rooms are\ndark, and the windows very small. But when the sun shines through the\napertures, their rich brown rafters and red pottery gleam out of the\nshadow. One such interior is especially memorable, where a bar of\nintense sunlight lit up the skin and many-coloured garments of children\nsitting in the window-sill, while through the open door the green grass\nof the courtyard shone. Still more wonderful is the effect when one\nopens the door of a silk-winding room in sunlight, and sees the colours\nwound on the great spindles, or when one enters the dark archways of the\nbazaars where long shafts of light striking down slantwise upon a\nshining patch below turn the brown shadow of the arch to indigo. The\nnatives see this, and love the lusciousness of it. They build minarets\ncased with emerald tiles, or domes of copper which will soon be coated\nwith verdigris. Of late years a further touch has been added in the\nred-tiled roofs which are already so popular in the towns.\n\nIn proof of the genius of the Easterns for colour, nothing need be\nmentioned but their carpets and their glass. The glass of old windows in\nmosques beggars all description. It is an experience rather than a\nspectacle. The panes are so minute, and so destitute of picture or of\npattern, that they are unnoticed in\n\n[Illustration: CANA OF GALILEE.\n\nThis is the village of Kafr Kenn\u00e1, believed to be the Cana of the New\nTestament, where our Lord performed His first miracle at the marriage\nfeast.]\n\ndetail, and the general effect is that of a religious atmosphere in\nwhich all one\u2019s ordinary thoughts and feelings are lost in the\noverpowering sense of \u201csomething rich and strange.\u201d After the magic of\nthat light, with its blended purple and amber and ruby, the finest\nWestern work seems harsh. It is hardly light; it is illuminated shadow.\nThe rugs and carpets, with their intricate colouring, are more familiar\nand need not be described. The finest of them are of silk, and their\ndelicacy of shade is marvellous. The patterns constantly elude the eye,\npromising and just almost reaching some recognisable figure, only to\nlose themselves in a bright maze. It is said that they were suggested by\nthe meadows of variegated flowers; but they are intenser and more\npassionate--as if their designers had felt that their task was to supply\nan even stronger counterpart to the faint landscape.\n\nThe gay clothing of the East is proverbial. Even the poorest peasants\nare resplendent. \u201cFine linen\u201d is still the mark of the rich man, but\nLazarus can match him for \u201cscarlet.\u201d In certain parts the men are clad\nin coats of sheepskin, the wool being inside, and protruding like a\nheavy fringe along the edges. Almost everybody\u2019s shoes are bright red.\nIn one place we saw a shepherd whose sheepskin coat had met with an\naccident, and the patch which filled the vacant space in the raw brown\nback of him was of an elaborate tartan cloth. In another village all the\nmen wore crimson aprons. When our camp-servants were on the march they\nseemed to be in sackcloth, or in thick grey felt which suggested\nfire-proof apparel; but when they reached a town they blossomed out into\na rainbow. Children playing in a village street, women at the wells,\nstatuesque shepherds standing solitary in the fields, all seemed\narranged as for a tableau. Everybody official--the railway guard, the\nescort, even the mourner at a funeral--is immensely conscious of his\ndignity; and on him descends the spirit of Solomon in all his glory. The\nman you hire to guide you for a walk of half a dozen miles will\ndisappear into his house and emerge in gorgeous array. One of our guides\ndecked himself in flowing yellow robes and marched before us\nostentatiously carrying in front of him a weapon which appeared to be a\ncross between a carving-knife and a reaping-hook, through a land\npeaceful as an infant school. A procession marching to some sacred place\nacross a plain lights the whole scene as with a string of coloured\nlanterns. Even where the natives have adopted European dress the fez is\nretained, and a crowd of men, seen from above, is always ruddy.\n\nThe delight in strong colour goes even one step farther. The rich hues\nof the flesh in sunny lands seem to suit the landscape, and one soon\nlearns to sympathise with the native preference for dusky and brown\ncomplexions. To them a fair skin appears leprous, though bright flaxen\nor auburn hair are regarded with great admiration. Not satisfied,\nhowever, with their natural beauty, the Syrians paint and tattoo their\nflesh in the most appalling manner, and redden their finger-nails with\nhenna. Fashionable ladies, and in some places men also, paint their\neyebrows to meet, and touch in their eyelids with antimony, whose blue\nshadow is supposed to convey the impression of irresistible eyelashes.\nIn towns where \u201cthe Paris modes\u201d are the sign of smartness, some of the\ngirls paint their faces pink and white--faces painted with a vengeance,\nwith a thick and shining enamel which transforms the wearers into\nanimated wax dolls of the weirdest appearance. But that which shocks the\nunsophisticated traveller most is the tattooing of many of the women.\nSome of them are marked with small arrow-head blue patches on forehead,\ncheeks, and chin; others are lined and scored like South Sea Islanders,\nand their lower lips transformed entirely from red to blue.\n\nAll this is savage enough, but it illustrates in its own crude way that\ndelight in strong colour which transforms the human life of the East\ninto such a vivid foreground to the faint landscape. In the dress there\nis artistic instinct as well as barbaric splendour, and in the carpets,\nthe mosaics, and the glass there is brilliant and matchless artistry. As\nto the general principle which has been stated in regard to natural\ncolouring, this is as it always must have been. These were the quiet\nhues of the land, and these the brilliant points of strong light in it\nwhich Christ\u2019s eyes saw, and which gave their colour to the Gospels.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE DESERT\n\n\nEnvironment counts for much in national life. A country knows itself,\nand asserts itself, as in contrast with what is immediately over its\nborder; or it retains connection with the neighbouring life, and is what\nit is partly because the region next it overflows into its life. At any\nrate, to understand anything more than the colour of a land--indeed even\nto understand that, as we shall see--it is necessary to begin outside it\nand know something of its surroundings. For Palestine, environment means\nsea and desert--sea along a straight line for the most part unbroken by\nany crease or wrinkle of coast-edge which might serve for a harbour, and\ndesert thrown round all the rest, except the mountainous north.\nPalestine is a great oasis--a fertile resting-place for travellers\nmaking the grand journey from Egypt to Mesopotamia; between which\nkingdoms she was ever also the buffer state in war and politics. These\nnations were her visitors, her guests, her terrors, but they never were\nher neighbours. Her neighbours are the sea and the desert.\n\nThe sea she never took for a friend. With no harbour, nor any visible\nisland to tempt her to adventure, and no sailor blood in her veins, she\nhated and feared the sea, and thought of it with ill-will. There is\nlittle of the wistfulness of romance in her thought of the dwellers in\nits uttermost parts; little of the sense of beauty in her poetry of the\nbreaking waves. She views the Ph\u0153nician trader who does business on the\nocean as a person to be astonished at rather than to be counted heroic.\nShe exults in the fact that God has his path on the great waters, but\nhas no wish to make any journey there herself. Her angels plant their\nfeet upon the sea, and she looks forward almost triumphantly to the time\nwhen it will be dried up and disappear. Meanwhile its inaccessible huge\ndepth is for her poets a sort of Gehenna--a fit place for throwing off\nevil things beyond the chance of their reappearing. Sins are to be cast\ninto it, and offenders, with millstones at their necks.\n\nThe desert was Israel\u2019s real neighbour. South-east from her it stretched\nfor a thousand miles. From N.N.E. round through E. and S. to W. it\nhemmed her in. To a Briton, watching the departure of the Bagdad\ndromedary post from Damascus, the desert seems infinitely more appalling\nand unnatural than the sea. For ten days these uncanny beasts and men\nwill travel, marching (it is said) twenty hours out of every\ntwenty-four. The stretch of dreariness which opens to the Western\nimagination, as you watch the lessening specks in the tawny distance, is\nindescribable. To the Eastern it is not so, and it never was so. He\nknows its horrors, and yet he loves it. The modern Arab calls it Nefud\n(_i.e._ \u201cexhausted,\u201d \u201cspent\u201d), and, according to Palgrave, there are in\nthe Arabian desert sands no less than 600 feet in depth. Yet with all\nits horrors it is after all his home.\n\nThe desert is not all consecrated to death. Besides the occasional oases\nwhich dot its barren expanse, there are many regions where grass and\nherbage may be had continually so long as the flocks keep wandering.\nAccordingly the long low black tent, with its obliquely pitched\ntent-ropes and skilfully driven pegs, takes the place of such\nsubstantial building as might create a city. It has been so for\ncountless generations, until now the desert Arab fears walls and will\nnot be persuaded to enter them. Kinglake gives a remarkable instance of\nthis, telling of a journey to Gaza on which his Arabs actually abandoned\ntheir camels rather than accompany them within the gates.[1]\n\nColonel Conder insists that the Arabs are entirely distinct from the\nFellahin of the Syrian villages; yet he and other writers call attention\nto the borderland east of Jordan where the boundaries of the rival races\nswing to and fro with the varying successes or failures of the years. In\nplaces where the land lies open, as at the Plain of Esdraelon, the east\ninvades the west. No one who travels in Palestine can fail to be\nimpressed--most will probably be surprised--by the frequency with which\nthose black hair-cloth tents are seen, sprawling like the skin of some\nwild-cat pegged out along the ground. If the question be asked what\nbecomes of them, the day\u2019s journey will likely enough supply the answer.\nIn the market-place of a town you may see their inhabitants trading\ntheir desert ware for city produce. But even such slight contact of city\nwith desert evidently has its temptations. In the valley below, the tent\nis pitched on the edge of a field rudely cultivated. The nomad here has\nalready yielded to the agriculturist. Descend to the Jordan valley, and\nyou shall see the hair-cloth covering a hut whose sides are of woven\nreeds from the river, and a little farther on the covering itself will\nbe exchanged for a roof of reeds. Finally, you may look from the road\nthat runs between the two main sources of the Jordan, and see in the\nsouthern distance, shining out against the lush verdure of the Huleh\nmorass, the red-tiled roof of a two-storey villa--the house of the\nSheikh of the local tribe of Arabs![2] This immigration has gone on from\ntime immemorial, and it was some such process by which Palestine\nreceived all her earlier inhabitants. Once fixed in cities and settled\ndown to the cultivation of the fields, their character and way of life\nso changed that the desert and its folk became their enemies. Yet a\ndeeper loyalty remained through all such alienation; and, in spite of\ndangers and even hostilities, the desert was still their former home.\n\nIt is not only by its neighbourhood, however, that the desert has\ninfluenced Palestine. Nature has done her best to shut it off from the\nland, from the eastern side at least, by the tremendous barrier of the\nJordan valley. Not even the angel of the wilderness, one would think,\nmight cross that defence. Yet even that barrier has been crossed, and a\nbird\u2019s-eye view of Palestine shews a land bitten into by great tracts of\nreal desert west of Jordan. In a modified degree, the whole of\nJudea--that great stone wedge to which reference was made in Chapter\nI.--exemplifies this. Half the Judean territory is wilderness, and the\nother half is only kept back from the desert by sheer force of industry.\nEven on the western side this is strikingly seen. As viewed from the\nocean, the desolate sand and scrub of the coast seems to clutch at the\nland, stretching here and there far inland from the shore. But the\ndesert of Judah, in the south-east of the country, is the great\nintrusion of the desert upon Palestine. The sea-board of Palestine is\nperhaps the smoothest and most unbroken of any country in the world. But\nif a coast-line of the desert were sketched in the same way as a\nsea-coast is shewn on maps, the edge would show an outline almost as\nbroken as that of the Greek coast, with many a bay and creek. The desert\nis the sea of Syria, and its inthrust is like that of great fingers\nfeeling their way through the pastures to the very gates of her cities,\nand at one place reaching a point within a mile or two of her capital.\nDisraeli describes graphically the transition from Canaan to\n\n[Illustration: ON THE ROAD FROM JERUSALEM TO BETHANY.]\n\nstony Arabia--the first sandy patches; the herbage gradually\ndisappearing till all that is left of it is shrubs tufting the ridges of\nlow undulating sand-hills; then the sand becoming stony, with no\nplant-life remaining but an occasional thorn, until plains of sand end\nin dull ranges of mountains covered with loose flints. In the journey\nfrom Bethlehem to the Dead Sea the transition is even more abrupt.\nHardly have you left the \u201cfields of the shepherds\u201d when you perceive\nthat the herbs, though still plentiful among the stones, are parched. In\na mile or two there is nothing round you but wild greyish-yellow sand\nand rock. You thread your way precariously along the sides of gorges\ntill you reach that sheer yellow cleft down which Kidron is slicing its\nway with the air of a suicide to the sea. Then you come up to a lofty\nridge from which are seen the dreary towers of Mar Saba, like the \u201cblind\nsquat turret\u201d of Childe Roland\u2019s adventure, \u201cwith low grey rocks girt\nround, chin upon hand, to see the game at bay.\u201d So you journey on,\nfeeling at times that this is not scenery, it is being buried alive in\ngreat stone chambers beneath the surface; at other times welcoming the\nsight of a broom bush like that under which Elijah lay down and prayed\nthat he might die. The carcase of a horse or the skeleton of a camel are\nalmost welcome, breaking the monotonous emptiness of this land of death.\n\nThe physical influence of the desert on the land is evident in many\nways. Greece and Britain are not more truly children of the sea than is\nSyria the desert\u2019s child. Even those who have had no experience of the\ndesert proper, but have only made the regulation tour in Palestine, will\nhave memories of what they saw recalled to them in every page of a book\ndescriptive of the desert. The land throughout has ominously much in\ncommon with its desolate neighbour--so much so as to suggest a territory\nrescued from the desert and kept from reverting only by strenuous\nhandling.\n\nMany things go to confirm this impression. The winds that blow from east\nor south have crossed the sand before they reach the mountains. When\nthey are cool, they are pure and fresh, unbreathed before, \u201cvirgin air.\u201d\nThe evening breeze of Syria is \u201cthe respiration of the desert\u201d after its\nbreathless heat of day. When the wind is hot, it is terrible as only\nwind can be that comes off burning sand. The _shirky_, or sirocco,\ninterprets the desert in a fashion which the traveller is not likely to\nforget. We rode against it half the length of the Plain of Esdraelon,\nwhen the thermometer registered 104\u00b0 in the shade, until the steel of\nour coloured eye-glasses became so hot that we were glad to remove them,\nand endure the glare by preference.\n\nThe plant-life of the desert has its counterpart in the land. Loti\ndescribes it with his usual vividness. There is the furze dusted with\nfine sand; there are the strange sand-flowers of yellow or violet\ncolours, the spikes shot out of the soil without leafage, the balls of\nthorn which wound the feet, the occasional palm-tree, the white edible\nmanna plant. And there is the exquisite scent of these after rain, so\nstrong that one might think a jar of perfume had been broken at the tent\ndoor--a perfume in which one distinguishes the scents of resin, lemon,\ngeranium, and myrrh. All this the Palestine traveller seems to\nrecognise; in that curious but familiar flora, and that pungent aromatic\nsmell, we have the intrusion of the desert again.\n\nThe colour of the land has already been described, and here again we\nhave the touch of the wilderness. The colouring is no doubt partly due\nto the quality of the air, dry and crisp as nothing but those miles of\nsand could make it. Having absolutely no concerns of its own, as wooded\nor grassy lands have, the desert abandons itself to the sun. It takes\nand gives the sunlight wholly, making itself a mere reflector for the\nlight and heat. \u201cEverything in this desert is of one colour--a tawny\nyellow. The rocks, the partridges, the camels, the foxes, the ibex, are\nall of this shade.\u201d[3] Yet this absolutely neutral region, just because\nof its neutrality, catches the sunrise and the sunset in a brilliance\nthat is all its own, and deepens its shadows to liquid depths of indigo\nand violet. In this we see the extreme and untempered form of that\ninterplay of faint background with intense foreground which is the\ncharacteristic feature of the colour-scheme of Syria.\n\nIt is the same as regards form. The two towers of Mar Saba are among the\nmost impressive of all the Syrian spectacles. Pitilessly unsuggestive,\nthey are the most unhomely things one ever saw, like the mere skeletons\nof habitations. But part of this impression comes from the shape of the\nsurrounding hills. Ranged in a wide semicircle, their fronts eaten out\nwith land-slips and torrents, they are polished and smooth like gigantic\nsculptures. In some parts the regularity of their cones and tables\nsuggests the work of purposeless but mighty builders. In other parts the\nrocks are twisted as if by tormentors, or tumbled in utter confusion.\nThis too, as we shall see, has its modified counterpart in the land.\n\nIf the desert has thus produced a strong physical effect upon the land,\nits moral effects are even more apparent. We have seen how to the\ndwellers west of Jordan it was at once an abiding enemy and an ancient\nhome. Shut out from it by the huge trench of the Jordan valley and the\nbarricade of the eastern mountains, the Syrian still feels enough of the\ndesert\u2019s fiery touch to fear it as an enemy. Its wind blasts his crops\nand its heat drives him from his valleys to the hill country for the\nbreath of life. Every traveller speaks of the \u201cpositive weight\u201d of heat\nthat makes men bend low in their saddles. Others besides the Persians\nare constrained, as Kinglake puts it, to bow down before the sun, whose\n\u201cfierce will\u201d is most terribly felt in those tracts of the land which\nthe desert has claimed for its own. In the desert there are the same\nconditions which are to be found in the land, only in extreme forms and\nwithout mitigation. It is the place of tempests, fires, and reptiles.\nThese visit the land at times, but they abide in that weird country into\nwhose distances the Syrian may peer from most of his mountain tops.\nThere, too, abide those dark and occult powers of evil in which every\nEastern man believes. The magic of the desert--its treacherous mirage,\nits genii (by no means difficult to imagine in the forms of sandy\nwhirlwinds whose march is strewn with corpses), and its infinite\nunexplored possibilities of terror--all this is very real to the native\nimagination. Its inhabitants, too, are uncanny to think of. The true\nArabian, whom perhaps they may have met on a journey, with his\njade-handled jewelled sword and his shrunken skin; the lunatics who have\nwandered to its congenial wildness; the anchorites and ascetics whom,\nlike the scapegoat of ancient times, sin has driven forth to its\nunwalled prison-house,--all these fill in for Syrians the ghastly\npicture, and its tales of wars and massacres add the last touch of\nhorror.\n\nNothing proves and exemplifies all this more strikingly than the\napparently unreasonable view of the fertility, beauty, and general\nperfection of Palestine which its inhabitants have always cherished.\nVisitors from the West are often disappointed, and as they move from\nplace to place their wonder grows as they recall the Biblical\ndescriptions of the land flowing with milk and honey. Allowing for the\nmany centuries of misrule and deterioration, it still remains obvious\nthat Palestine never can have been that dreamland of natural delight\nwhich piety has imagined. But the inhabitant views it, as Dr. Smith has\npointed out, not in contrast with the West, but in contrast with the\ndesert. We have to remember how \u201cits eastern forests, its immense\nwheat-fields, its streams, the oases round its perennial fountains, the\npride of Jordan, impress the immigrant nomad.\u201d This contrast exaggerates\nall his blessings in a heat of appreciation. Coming in from the desert,\na man sees trees and fountains not as they are in themselves, but as\nthey are in contrast with burning sand: he welcomes them as the gift of\nGod\u2019s grace. The sound of wind among the leaves or of flowing water is\nto him truly the speech of a god.[4] To many a wayfarer the poorest\noutskirts of the Syrian land have meant salvation from imminent death,\nand so appreciation enlarges to optimism, and the very barrenness of the\ndesert becomes a challenge to hope and faith. Streams will break forth\nthere, as in his happy experience they have already broken forth, until\nthe whole barren waste shall blossom as the rose. It is by such hope and\nfaith that the tribes of Palestine have lived. There is a magnificent\nindomitableness in the spectacle of Jews after two thousand years of\nexile still celebrating their vintage festival in the slums of great\ncities, or in the \u201csqualid quarter of some bleak northern town where\nthere is never a sun that can at any rate ripen grapes.\u201d One seems to\nfind the key to this in that tradition of the Arabs that certain ruins\nnear the Dead Sea are the remains of ancient vineyards. The Syrian land\ncan never be seen but as a miracle of life and beauty rescued from the\ndesert, and that appreciation becomes the incentive for a larger hope.\n\nYet it is not as an enemy, however wonderfully conquered or strenuously\nheld at bay, that the desert appeals most to the Syrian. As he looks\neastward to the hills of Moab and dreams of what lies beyond them, there\nis perhaps more of wistfulness than of terror in his heart. The\nmelancholy note of his music, heard by every camp-fire in the long\nevenings, is infinitely suggestive as well as pathetic. Where was that\nnote learned if not in black tents pitched in the boundless waste, where\nman\u2019s littleness, in contrast with the great powers of Nature, oppressed\nhim into prone fatalism, or revealed to him the infinite refuge and\ncomfort of the Everlasting Arms? He whose fathers have sung such songs\nwill not satisfy his soul with the bustle of towns. He will need the\ndesert for retreat, that his confused mind may calm itself down to order\nand find new revelations of truth. And when the Syrian retreats to the\ndesert he seems rather to be going home than abroad. David and Elijah,\nPaul and Mohammed, for various reasons, but with the same urgency,\nbetook themselves to the solitude. Jesus Christ himself was driven of\nthe Spirit into the wilderness. If temptation waited them there, and the\nsense of exile and desertion, it was there also that angels ministered\nto them; and ancient prophecies were fulfilled in those \u201cstreams of\nspiritual originality which broke forth in the deserts of moral routine\u201d\nof their times. To their spirit, and to the spirit of all dwellers in\nthe land, the desert is not enemy only, it is home.\n\nThis fact is abundantly borne out by many traits of character which are\nthe survivals of a desert ancestry. There is nothing in Syria which can\nexplain the fact that the most skilful dragoman cannot understand a map,\nnor guide you to your destination by geographical directions. On unknown\nground a Syrian is of little use as guide. On one occasion some of us\nset out on a journey of five or six miles in Hauran under the guidance\nof an excellent lad who started with the air of a Napoleon Bonaparte.\nHis directions were to go straight from Muzerib to Sheikh Miskin--two\nstations on the railway south of Damascus, between which the railway\nline runs in a wide curve. Our route was the bow-string, while the line\nwas the bent bow. For a little way he boldly marched forward, but soon\nbegan to edge towards the rails, and finally lost his head altogether,\ncrossed the line, and set out on a route whose only apparent destination\nwas Persia! This was too much for us, and we mutinied and reversed the\ndirection, arriving at Sheikh Miskin in less than an hour, with our\nguide under a cloud. There could not have been a better illustration of\na Syrian\u2019s helplessness on ground without familiar landmarks. He finds\nhis way partly by a nomad instinct, very difficult to account for;\npartly by the habit of noticing minute features of the road which\nentirely escape the ordinary observer. A story is told of a thief in a\ncertain town in Palestine who entered a house and stole nothing. He\nsimply went out and claimed the house before the judge. When the case\ncame to trial, the thief challenged the owner to tell how many steps\nwere in the stair, how many panes of glass in the windows and a long\ncatalogue of other such\n\n[Illustration: THE HILLS ROUND NAZARETH, FROM THE PLAIN OF ESDRAELON.\n\nThe village of Nazareth shows out white in the dip between the hills.]\n\ndetails. This the owner could not do, and when the thief gave the\nnumbers correctly, the house was at once given to him as its obvious\npossessor. The tale at once recalls the Arab of our childhood who\ndescribed the route of the strayed camel.\n\nThe Syrian character is nothing if not complex, a mass of paradox whose\ncontradictory elements it seems hopeless to attempt to reconcile. The\npolitest and the most ruffianly of men, the most effusively frank and\nthe most impenetrably wary, the most silent and the most voluble, the\ngayest in laughter and the most melancholy in song, is the Syrian. He\nwill bully you so long as he has the majority, and he will beg for the\nprivilege of tying your shoe\u2019s latchet if the majority is with you. He\nwill row a boat or drive a donkey under a noonday sun with a violence\nwhich threatens apoplexy; he will suddenly subside into a repose which\nno surrounding bustle can disturb. The captain of the _Rob Roy_ tells\nhow in the Huleh region a native boy running alongside pointed his long\ngun at him at least twenty times with the cry of _bakhshish_, so close\nthat he once knocked the barrel aside with his paddle; and yet in the\ntent that evening this same youngster \u201cwas my greatest favourite from\nhis lively laugh and eyes like diamonds, and his quick perception of all\nI explained.\u201d In a note on page 39 an adventure of our own is told which\nillustrates sufficiently the rapidity of change in the mood of the\nnative. He is a civilised barbarian, a scrupulous fraud, an aged little\nchild. No doubt so complex a character is traceable to many causes, but\nin the main it is the work of the desert. There the extreme\nconditions--the long hunger and the occasional surfeit, the great\nsilence and the shrill speech in which that silence unburdens itself,\nthe demand for desperate exertion and the long deep rest--these call\nforth the most opposite qualities, each in exaggerated degree.\n\nPerhaps the most important contributions of the desert to the Syrian\ncharacter have been two. There is a certain hardiness and strenuous\ncarelessness of comfort, which produces a rather bleak impression on\nEuropean travellers, but which nevertheless has counted for a great deal\nin national life. It has told in opposite ways. Judea\u2019s success has been\nundoubtedly due to the fact that it had to be fought for against such\nbitter odds. On the other hand, this same independence of fate has led\nthe nation to settle down in a too easy contentment. Defeat, and even\noppression, sit more lightly on people who are indifferent to\ncircumstances; and if the artificial demands for luxury have been the\nruin of some nations, they have been the saving of others, keeping alive\nin them their vigour and whetting their ambition. The other contribution\nis the instinctive kindliness and hospitality which are well known as\ncharacteristic of the desert tribes. Where life is so precarious, it\ninevitably comes to be regarded as an inviolable trust by the man on\nwhose mercy it is cast. Accordingly the wandering Arab has but to draw\nin the sand a circle round his laden camel in order to secure every\nscrap of his possessions from robbery; and the bitterest enemies are\nsure of safety so long as they abide in each other\u2019s tents. A little\nincident which occurred to ourselves brought home to us vividly the real\nkindliness of the Eastern sense of guest-right. It was in Damascus, and\nafter nightfall. Some of us, wishing to see how the city amused itself,\nset out for a ramble through the streets. It was only nine o\u2019clock, yet\neverything was shut up and the bazaars and thoroughfares silent and\ndeserted. At last we found a little caf\u00e9 still doing business at the end\nof the high black vault of a bazaar. Seats were placed in the open air\nin front of it, while from within came the rattle of dice and the voices\nof one or two gamblers. Sitting down on the outside bench, we asked for\ncoffee, which was immediately brought. A stylishly dressed Moslem, in an\nindescribable flow of robes, took his seat silently opposite us and sat\nsmoking his nargileh. When we rose to go we found that he had paid for\nus all, and when we would have thanked him he would have none of it,\nsatisfied with the consciousness of having shewn hospitality to\nstrangers sojourning in his land. We could not help wondering how long\nour friend might have continued making the circuit of London restaurants\nbefore a similar experience would have fallen his way! There is a tale\nof a scoundrel who acts as guide to English travellers, and presents to\neach of them a certificate from a former victim, which invariably makes\nthem laugh. The writing is, \u201cI was a stranger and ye took me in.\u201d It was\npleasing to find that this testimony need not always be ironical.\n\n\nEXTRACT FROM JOURNAL\n\n One of the horses had been stolen in the night. It was the last on\n the line, and beyond it Harun was sleeping on the ground. At 11.30\n all was right, but by 12.30 it had disappeared. By 1 A.M. the\n village had been roused, and the head men were coming in to the\n camp offering us one of their mares in compensation. The mares,\n which were wretched skeletons of beasts, were refused, and the\n horse demanded. Nothing could persuade them to bring him back, or\n to acknowledge any cognisance of him whatever. They said that\n passing robbers had taken him, and begged us not to report the\n affair. Our dragoman, however, took another view. He wrote a\n letter, long and circumstantial, describing us as \u201cHawajas\u201d\n (merchants, gentlemen), travelling for information under tescera\n from the Sultan. The touch of genius in the letter was its\n insistence upon the seriousness of this affair on the ground that\n we were travelling under three flags, the Union Jack, the Turkish\n flag, and the Stars and Stripes. This letter was sent, by one of\n our men on horseback, to the Kaimakham, governor of the district,\n at a place some distance from where we were. The Kaimakham passed\n him on to the Mudir at another village, a person of terrible\n reputation, of whom everybody in the neighbourhood was afraid. The\n upshot of it all was that Mohammed, the messenger, returned to camp\n accompanied by two soldiers, powerful and intelligent young\n fellows, but savage-looking and rather ragged. The taller of the\n two, named Nimr (the leopard), was armed with bayonet, rifle, and\n revolver, while a double belt of cartridges added to the effect.\n His orders were to take the thirteen leading men of Banias in\n irons, and march them off \u201cshoulder-tight\u201d to prison at Mejdel.\n During the day a great meeting was held in the dragoman\u2019s tent, the\n soldiers on one side, the \u201cleading men\u201d on the other. One of the\n latter protested that this was unfair--they had expected the\n dragoman to grow cooler, but although he had been hot at first, he\n was getting hotter instead of cooler. The reply was--(may it be\n forgiven!)--that he had meant to get cooler, but the Hawajas were\n getting hotter steadily, owing to the three flags aforesaid. After\n a long parley it was arranged that they should send to another\n village for a horse worth \u00a320, the value of the stolen one. They\n stoutly maintained that a stranger, and none of themselves, had\n committed the robbery, and that it was a bitter day when the\n Hawajas had pitched their tents among them. Nimr the soldier sat\n frowning and beating the ground savagely with a stick between his\n wide open legs. He repeated several times, with gusto, the\n aphorism, \u201cBetter to touch fire and scorpions than the property of\n Hawajas,\u201d to which the rueful answer of the Sheikh was that it\n _would_ be better! All was gloom, and when at last a messenger was\n sent off to procure a horse worth \u00a320, the grandees went to their\n houses with the air of men doomed. Next morning the horse was\n brought, and was to be seen at the end of the line kicking and\n biting viciously. Its worth was only \u00a315, but the balance was\n condoned. We expected that this would draw forth gratitude and even\n some gladness; but instead it brought them all to tears, and drew\n from them many assurances of the miserable poverty of their\n condition, and the inevitable ruin that awaited them if we actually\n accepted this horse which they had brought. To these pleadings the\n dragoman was deaf, insisting that we must now at least let things\n take their course. When they saw that this was the final position\n of affairs, they ceased from wailing. Within five minutes our own\n original horse was led into the camp, and their new one removed!\n Their game had been played to its very last turn, and having failed\n was laid aside. During the rest of our sojourn there these same men\n lingered in the camp, manifesting neither regret nor shame, but\n smoking, chatting, and laughing with our company in the highest\n possible good-humour.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE LIE OF THE LAND\n\n\nEvery writer about Palestine speaks of the smallness and concentration\nof the land, yet these take the best informed by surprise. It is \u201cthe\nleast of all lands\u201d indeed, when one thinks how much has happened in it.\nLeaving Jaffa at 10 A.M., the steamer reaches Beyrout at 6 P.M. The\npassengers in that short sail have seen the whole of Palestine. National\nlife there is a miniature rather than a picture. In a stretch of country\nequal to that between Aberdeen and Dundee you cover the whole central\nground of the Bible, from the Sea of Galilee to Jerusalem. In a ride\nequal to the distance from London to Windsor there may be seen enough to\ninterpret many centuries of the world\u2019s supreme history. The Dead Sea is\nbut 50 miles from the Mediterranean, the Sea of Galilee about 25 miles;\nwhile the distance in miles between the two seas is only 55. Yet in that\nlittle land there is every kind of soil, from mere sand and broken\nlimestone to rich red and chocolate loam. It is a mountainous country\nthroughout, and its inhabitants are a race of Highlanders. So numerous\nare its mountain spurs that you may pass up and down the centre of the\ncountry for scores of miles, and yet never catch sight of the sea,\nthough you constantly feel it in the breeze. Everything is there--the\ngorge, the wide sweeping valley, the great plain, the rolling tableland.\nIt is, indeed, a land in miniature, the _multum in parvo_ of lands. Its\nhistory and religion, like its natural features, are crushed together\nand compact. The epigram is the only form of speech that can express it.\n\nThis idea of smallness and compression, however, is by no means the only\npossible view which may be taken. All depends on what it is with which\none compares Palestine. Thinking of it as a field of history, one\ninevitably has other fields in mind. If we think of Britain, Palestine\nis but the size of Wales; if of France and Germany, it is the equivalent\nof Alsace. But a more primitive point of view is gained when you regard\nit as a reclaimed tract of the desert. Just as Egypt is a huge\nriver-meadow, and Venice a glorified harbour in the sea, so Syria is the\nlargest oasis in the world. Its whole geographical character is that of\ndesert, more or less modified by water. The sculptured hills are here,\nthe rock and the shingle and the sand. Dry up its rivers and arrest its\nrainfall, and you will have a continuation of the peninsula of Sinai,\nexcept that instead of granite it will be of limestone. It is this, as\nwe have seen, that has led its inhabitants to regard it with a rare\nappreciation, an extraordinary sense of its preciousness, and a\ntendency to exaggerate both its beauty and its fertility.\n\nNothing illustrates this loving appreciation of their land better than\nthe play of imagination which has created the place-names of Palestine.\nHebrews, Arabs, and Crusaders vie with each other in the poetic beauty\nof their nomenclature. It is a little land, but there is much witchery\nin it. For its inhabitants it _lives_ personified, and its masses of\nmountain scenery are often named from parts of the human body. There are\n\u201cthe shoulder,\u201d \u201cthe side,\u201d \u201cthe thigh,\u201d \u201cthe rib,\u201d \u201cthe back.\u201d The\n\u201chead\u201d of Pisgah looks down upon the \u201cface\u201d of the wilderness.[5] There\nis a \u201chollow hearth\u201d--homeliest of names to a Semite. In other names\npoetry has reached its utmost of epigrammatic beauty--\u201cthe dance of the\nwhirls,\u201d \u201cthe star of the wind,\u201d \u201cthe diamond of the desert.\u201d Yet sacred\nand beautiful as its scenery was to Israel, she had a dearer bond with\nher land than that. She was kept from nature-worship by a spiritual\nfaith which created such names as \u201cBethel\u201d (the house of God), and many\nothers of similar significance. These claim the land in all its length\nand breadth for the God of Israel. Every green spot was for the Semites\nthe dwelling-place of some divinity; this whole oasis of hers was for\nIsrael the house of her God of peace and blessing. To the ancient Greek\n\u201cGod was the view\u201d; to the Hebrew, God was the inhabitant of the\nview--He Himself was Righteousness. And because the land was\nHis--rescued by Him from the desert with His waters, and given to the\npeople in His love--it was tenfold more dear to them. Down every vista\nwhich shewed them a land that was very far off, their eyes caught sight\nalso of some vision of the King in His beauty; every high hill was a\nveritable mountain of the Lord\u2019s house.\n\nLet us try to get, as it were, a bird\u2019s-eye view of this fascinating\ncountry, noticing in their right perspective and significance its\noutstanding natural features. Dr. Smith\u2019s _Historical Geography_ has\nperhaps rendered no service higher than the aid towards this which is\nafforded by its epitome and map (pp. 49, 50, 51). These divide Palestine\ninto five parallel strips running north and south. Cutting across these\nstrips in a straight line westwards from the desert to the sea, we first\ntraverse the range of the eastern mountains; then dip to the immense\ngulf of the Jordan valley, far below the Mediterranean level; then climb\nby precipitous ascents to the summit of the central range; then descend\nthrough the foot-hills; and finally land on the maritime plain. To grasp\nthoroughly the lie of these five longitudinal regions is the first\nnecessity for understanding the geography of Palestine. Its general\nimpression is one of extraordinary brokenness of contour, and Zangwill\npoints out the important fact that a land with so much hill surface has\nin reality a very much larger superficial area than that estimated by\nmultiplying its length by its breadth.\n\nBy far the most remarkable feature in the whole\n\n[Illustration: JERUSALEM--THE POOL OF HEZEKIAH.]\n\nterritory is the Jordan valley. Rising from springs at the western roots\nof Hermon, high above sea level, it sinks by rapid stages till at the\nDead Sea it reaches bottom nearly 1300 feet below the Mediterranean.\nDown its extraordinary gully flows the one great river of Palestine.\nThere are other perennial streams, but none to compare with Jordan\neither for volume or for associations. It is this mass of flowing water\nwhich stands as the heart and soul of the Syrian oasis. Its mighty\nstream has overcome the desert, and claimed the western land for\ngreenness and for life. It is this huge cleft that has isolated the Holy\nLand for the purposes of its God.\n\nThe only clear opening from the Jordan to the Mediterranean is the Plain\nof Esdraelon. Standing on Jordan\u2019s bank below Bethshan and looking\nwestward, you see before you a valley whose farther end shows nothing\nbut sky. Many streams cut their way down its slopes beside a green\nmorass, and hold in their embrace the ruins of a strong city. You must\nfollow them up westwards for some ten miles before you reach sea level,\nand soon after that you cross the watershed in a wide valley with\nmountains rising to north and south. Jezreel stands above you on a\nprotruding tongue of high cultivated land to the south. At a level of\nabout 200 feet above the sea, you suddenly emerge upon a great\ntriangular plain, with Carmel at its apex, 15 miles to the west. This is\nthe Plain of Esdraelon. The one really large level space in Syria, its\nrich soil, even surface, and plentiful water-supply make it a famous\npiece of cultivated ground. But it is also the natural battlefield of\nthe East, and its chief associations are not with agriculture but with\nwar.\n\nEsdraelon, however, is but an incident in the geographical fact of\nSyria, though an important and large incident. It is but the largest of\nthose open spaces into which Syrian valleys swell out. There are three\nor four of them in the Jordan valley, and several of smaller size are\nscattered here and there throughout the country. The really essential\nfeature of the land--that, indeed, which historically _is_ the land--is\nthe mountain range that sweeps from Lebanon to Hebron and beyond. It was\non the mountains that Israel lived. The Plain of Esdraelon, being the\nganglion of the natural main routes of traffic and of war, was but a\ndoubtful possession, precariously held at best, and often changing\nowners. The strong city of Bethshan at the eastern mouth of its main\nvalley was held by Israel\u2019s enemies during almost the whole of her\nhistory; and, until a year or two ago, the Arabs made yearly raids upon\nthe Plain. Again, the sea-coast was largely in the hands of enemies;\nwhile the Jordan valley, with its insupportable heat and malaria, was\nthinly peopled, and its population swiftly degenerated from national as\nwell as from moral loyalties. Thus he who would know the Holy Land must,\nin every sense of the words, \u201clift up his eyes unto the hills.\u201d\n\nIt was our good fortune to have this view at its very best for our first\nsight of Palestine. We should have landed at Jaffa, but a rather\ndoubtful case of plague at Alexandria inflicted a two days\u2019 quarantine\non all ships coming out of Egypt. So we looked at Jaffa from under the\nyellow flag, and sailed off in the morning sunlight northward to\nBeyrout. All day long we lay on deck, with maps spread out before us.\nThe quarantine had cost us the sight of the Greek Easter ceremony at\nJerusalem, but it gave us in exchange the rare experience of a daylight\nsail along the Syrian coast. The day was marvellously clear, and every\nobject on the shore was seen in photographic outline, while the various\ndistances were preserved in fading colours, back to the thin\ntransparency against the sky which stood for the furthest mountain\nranges. The shore was barren: a low belt of tawny sand, broken by dark\nolive-green scrub, and very desolate. One solitary house was all we saw\nfor the first two hours, and in another place a column of smoke,\napparently rising from some invisible camp. Beyond this the foot-hills\neast of the plain were seen, lifting towards the great central ridge of\nthe mountain range. Though broken here and there by an occasional point,\nor overlooked by a peak that rose very high beyond, the crest of the\nrange was remarkably level, with wavy outline. Until we passed Carmel it\nshewed as a unity--\u201cthe _mountain_\u201d of Ephraim and Judah. North from\nthat there was a bolder sky-line, much nearer to the sea, which led on\neventually to the magnificent heights of Lebanon, beautiful as they are\nmighty.\n\nLet us suppose ourselves to land at Beyrout and journey from north to\nsouth well inland. At first we climb eastwards among bold bare hills, in\nwhose recesses mulberry gardens nestle and on whose heights innumerable\nvillages perch. Cedars are conspicuous by their absence, but there are\nplenty of humbler trees. Soon we come to realise the large-scale meaning\nand contour of the district. We have been crossing Lebanon, whose\nhighest peaks have revealed themselves now and then far to the north.\nSome twenty miles from the coast we find ourselves in the valley of the\nLitany (Leontes). This whole region is easily understood. It consists of\nthe magnificent ranges of Lebanon and Antilebanon and the spacious\nvalley between them, running in ample curves parallel with the shore.\n\nMighty though these are, however, it is neither of them that has\nreceived the name of Jebel-es-Sheikh--\u201cthe patriarch of mountains.\u201d That\nhonour is reserved for Hermon, the range and summit which Antilebanon\nthrusts south from it into Galilee, just opposite Damascus. It is\nhappily named \u201cthe sheikh.\u201d Go where you will in Palestine, Hermon seems\nto lie at the end of some vista or other. For many miles around it,\nHermon commands everything. Its mass tilts the plain and sends out\ninnumerable spurs of rich and fertile land; its snow shines far and\ngives character to the view; its eastern waters redeem the wilderness\nthrough many a mile of Hauran; and from its western roots spring all the\nfountains of the Jordan. This is the king of Syria, by whose beneficent\nmight the desert has become oasis.\n\nWhile the southern continuation of Hermon holds up the high tableland of\nBashan and runs it on into the mountains of Gilead and Moab east of\nJordan, the thrust of Lebanon into Western Galilee ends curiously in a\nsuccession of hills divided by valleys running east and west, like great\nwaves of mountain rolling south to break along the northern edge of the\nPlain of Esdraelon. There is a quiet regularity about these Galilean\nHighlands, which gives the impression of a region made to plan. The\neastern end of Esdraelon is blocked by the group of Tabor and \u201cLittle\nHermon,\u201d while the feature of the western end is the long lonely ridge\nof Carmel.\n\nCrossing the plain we enter Samaria, whose deep rounded valleys, rich in\ncorn, send their sweeping curves in all directions. Here there is\nneither the dominant north-and-south trend of Lebanon, nor the\nhorizontal ripple of Galilee, but an intricate network of curving\nvalleys, which leave the mountains everywhere more individual and\ndistinct, and which frequently expand into wide meadows or fields. Yet\nthe general rise of the region is from west, sloping up to east. The\nwatershed is perhaps 10 to 15 miles from Jordan, while it is more than\n30 miles from the sea. But Jordan here is well-nigh 1000 feet below\nsea-level, so that the eastern slope is immensely steeper than the\nwestern.\n\nAs we enter Judea, we find the land, as it were, gathering itself up on\nalmost continuous heights. The lesser valleys are shallow, and the\nhilltops swell from the lofty plateau in colossal domes or cupolas. So\nhigh is the general level that when we come to Jerusalem we look in vain\nfor the mountains we had understood to be round about her. No peaks\ncleave the sky--only smooth and gentle hills, which have never been in\nany way her defence, but have made excellent platforms for the\nsiege-engines of her enemies, and have grown wood for the crosses of her\ninhabitants. The lateral gorges of Judea, both east and west, cut into\nher high tableland in angular zigzags, and as you descend these in\neither direction you realise what is really meant by \u201cthe mountains\nround about Jerusalem.\u201d She does not see them, lying secure upon the\nheight to which they have exalted her. But he who approaches her must\ncome by their gorges, where for many miles his sky will be but a strip\nseen between sheer heights of cliff and scaur.[6] The rugged sharpness\nof outline reaches its climax on the eastern side, where the range,\nsplit in the wildest gorges, falls in fragmentary masses between their\nmouths down to the Jordan valley. Nothing in the land has a more bare\nand savage grandeur than the square-chiselled mountain blocks of\nQuarantana, seen from below at Jericho in black angular silhouette\nagainst the sunset. South of Jerusalem the Kidron gorge, cleaving the\nintruding desert, exaggerates the wildness of the north, but as you\nclimb past Bethlehem to Hebron you are in a region liker to Samaria,\nwith its deeper and more rounded valleys and its richer pasture and\ncultivation. South of Hebron the range spreads fanwise and gradually\nsinks to the desert.\n\nThe most impressive memories of the land, so far as its form and\ncontour go, are two--the gorges cleft through the Judean mountain, and\ncertain isolated conical hills thrown up from the Samaritan valleys.\nJudea is mountain, emphasised by gorge; Samaria is valley, diversified\nby hill. The gorges are uncompromising. When we read, for instance, the\nthird verse of the seventh chapter of Joshua, we think of an ordinary\nmarch--\u201cThe men went up and viewed Ai. And they returned to Joshua, and\nsaid unto him, Let not all the people go up; but let about two or three\nthousand men go up and smite Ai; and make not all the people to labour\nthither.\u201d But he who has himself \u201cgone up\u201d from Jericho to Ai puts\nfeeling into his reading of the words \u201cto labour thither.\u201d That is the\nonly way of going up. The recollection is of several hours of\nprecipitous riding, with beasts stumbling and riders pitched ahead. When\nthe climb is over you turn aside to the south, and view the gully of\nMichmash along whose northern edge you have scrambled inland. It looks\nnot like a valley, but a crack in rocks, hundreds of feet deep. The\nvalley of Achor, next to the south of Michmash, presents an almost more\ndramatic appearance as you view its entrance from the Jordan foot-hills.\nIt gapes on the plain, like the open mouth of some petrified monster.\n\nThe isolated hills of the northern territory are in their way as\nmemorable as the gorges of the south. In Judea you cannot see the\nmountains for \u201cthe mountain.\u201d The whole land is one great elevated\nrange, and the noticeable features of the district are the gorges that\ncut across it. Samaria, on the other hand, is a place of valleys and of\nplains, and its mountains are seen as mountains. This fact finds its\nmost striking instance in certain \u201cGilgals,\u201d or isolated cones standing\nfree in the midst of plain, or cut off by circular valleys round their\nbases. The most perfect of these is that which bears the name of Gilgal,\nrising detached in the wide valley to the south-east of Jacob\u2019s Well.[7]\nIt is in shape an almost perfect cone, whose gradual curve renders it\nvery easy of ascent. The Hill of Samaria itself is another such\n\u201cGilgal,\u201d the centre of a splendid circular panorama of hills. Sanur, in\nthe country of Judith and Holophernes, is a third, on a smaller scale,\nbut with even wider panorama. North of Esdraelon, again a long ripple of\nmountains sweeps round at least one such Gilgal, leaving Sepphoris\nisolated on the peak of it. And Tabor itself might plausibly be counted\nin this class--Tabor the irrelevant, whose cone seems always to be\npeeping over the shoulder of some lower ridge, unlike any other\nlandmark, commanding all the views eastward from the heights of\nNazareth. These curious cones are in Palestine to some extent what the\nRighi is in Switzerland. With the exception of Tabor, they are but\nlesser heights; yet they give the widest mountain views, and seem to\nshape the land into a succession of circles, of which their summits are\nthe centre-points.\n\nThe mountains of Israel are the characteristic features of her history\nas of her geography. In every part of Syria they are the companions of\nthe journey. Great\n\n[Illustration: MOUNT HERMON, FROM THE SLOPES OF TABOR.\n\nThe lofty mountain in the extreme distance is Mount Hermon.]\n\ndistant masses, or near crests of them, seem to accompany you as you\nmove. And as you travel through the history of the land it is in the\nsame companionship. The Jordan valley lies along the western side of the\nmountain range, a place of luxury and temptation. But Israel abides on\nthe hills, sending down to it only the most degenerate of her children.\nIt is a very striking fact that Jesus was tempted to sin for bread on\nthe mountain almost within sight of Jericho, where the Herodians were\nsinning with surfeits of wine and rich meats. All that is truest to\nIsrael and most characteristic of her at her best is on the hills. They\nare the places of her war and of her worship. The Gilgals have almost\nall stood siege. All, or at least the most of them, have been fortified.\nOn some of them the rude remains of ancient sacred circles, or the\ndecayed steps of altars cut in the rock, may still be traced. Her\nenemies found by bitter experience that \u201cher gods are gods of the\nhills.\u201d Her ark had its abode on the tableland at Shiloh or on the hill\nof Zion. Its history on the low ground was but a story of calamity; it\nhad to be sent up again to Kirjath-Jearim among the hills. Yet the\nheights of Israel stand for more than this blend of war and worship;\nthey were her home. All her greater towns nestle among them somewhere;\nmost of them stand on the summits, or just below them. It was a race of\nHighlanders that gave us our Bible--men whose home was on the heights.\n\nHer wars, indeed, were everywhere, for it is a blood-drenched land.\nMany of her battles were fought at the edge of the mountain-land, on the\nkopjes that run along the southern border of Esdraelon, or among the\nfoot-hills near the mouth of the western gorges. There, or on the great\nplain, she met her invaders. But the heights were the scenes of battles\nin the last resort, and the gorges are associated with the advance and\nretreat of armed hosts, the rush of the invader and the headlong retreat\nof armies that had been surprised and routed from above.\n\nMeanwhile, in the middle spaces, she fought her continuous battle with\nthe desert and the sun for her daily bread. It is said that in Malta,\nwhere every possible spot is cultivated, the earth has been all\nimported, and that the Knights of Malta allowed no vessel to enter the\nharbour without paying dues in soil. The denuded hill-sides of\nPalestine, with their ruined heaps of stones that once built up terraces\nfor cultivation, tell a similar story. On some hillsides the remains of\nsixty or even eighty such terraces may still be traced. In many places\nthe valleys are rich in an altogether superfluous depth of fertile soil.\nBut this did not suffice the inhabitants, and they built up the terraces\nalong the southward slopes, in many places quite to the walls of their\nmountain villages. On not a few of these slopes labour must have\nactually created land, and men\u2019s hearts grown strong within them as they\nchanged the rocks into gardens and the slopes of shingle into harvest\nfields.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE WATERS OF ISRAEL\n\n\nKeeping in mind our view of Palestine as an oasis, we naturally turn at\nonce to the thought of the waters that have retrieved it from the\ndesert. By far the most conspicuous of these is the Jordan, flowing down\na long course to its deep-dug grave in the Dead Sea. At whatever point\nwe approach that great valley the eye is inevitably led along it\nnorthward to the white Hermon, whose great \u201cbreastplate\u201d shines over all\nthe land. That mountain, and the Lebanons of which it is the southern\noutpost, are the real makers of Palestine.\n\nThere was a beautiful poetry of Hermon which from earliest times made it\na sacrament of sweet thoughts to Israel. Perhaps the sweetest thought it\ngave her was that of dew. In every part of that land of clear skies, a\nheavy dew lies upon the ground at sunrise. Poetic feeling, undertaking\nthe work of science, interpreted this dew as Hermon\u2019s gift, so that \u201cthe\ndew that descended on the mountains of Zion\u201d was \u201cthe dew of Hermon\u201d\n(Psalm cxxxiii. 3). The meteorology is faulty, but the larger idea is\ntrue. The cool and glistening snow-field, more than a hundred miles\naway from Zion, does indeed send out and receive again the waters that\nrefresh the land in an endless round. \u201cThe Abana dies in the marsh of\nAteibeh, yielding its spirit to the sun, as Jordan dies in the Dead Sea,\nand, rising into clouds again, both of them wafted to the snow-peaks\nwhere they were born, they pour down their old waters in a current ever\nnew, in that circuit of life and death which God has ordained for\nall.\u201d[8]\n\nSo conspicuous are these two rivers that we almost need to remind\nourselves that they are not the only waters of Israel. There are several\nperennial streams in Syria, of which something will be said presently;\nbut the list of these by no means exhausts the stores of water in the\nland. Great stretches of the country are apparently waterless,\nespecially in the south, and yet water is almost everywhere,\nunderground. In many parts the soil and surface-rock are soft, lying on\na hard bed-rock at various depths below. Accordingly we find that one of\nthe most mysterious and characteristic features of the south country is\nits underground waters.[9] Springs and streamlets find their way through\nfissures or filter through porous stone to the harder rock below, and\nflow along subterranean channels there. Zangwill quotes an older\nauthority for the somewhat startling statement that \u201cthe entire plain of\nSharon seems to cover a vast subterranean river, and this inexhaustible\nsource of wealth underlies the whole territory of the Philistines.\u201d\nPutting the ear to any crack in the sunburnt clay of the surface, in\ncertain parts, one may hear the subdued growl and murmur of the waters\nunderneath. Trees flourish in places where there is no water apparent,\ntheir roots bathing in unseen streams, and drawing life and freshness\nfrom them. One can well understand the feelings of awe with which\nprimitive people regarded these mysterious nether springs. They did not\nconnect them with the idea of rain from above, as modern science does,\nbut believed that they had forced their way up from \u201cthe Great Deep,\u201d\nwhich was supposed to underlie the earth, and into which the roots of\nthe mountains were thrust far down like gigantic anchors of the world.\nSome of the rivers of Damascus are also underground, \u201cand may often be\nseen and heard through holes in the surface.\u201d[10] Jerusalem is a\nwaterless city, whose famous pools are tanks for rain-water. Its one\nspring is that strange intermittent one which overflows from the Well of\nthe Virgin through Hezekiah\u2019s aqueduct to the Pool of Siloam. Yet there\nare legends that beneath the sacred rock which the mosque of Omar covers\nthere is a subterranean torrent; and that the rushing of hidden waters\nhas been heard at times below the massive stones of the Damascus Gate of\nthe city.\n\nThese underground waters have given to Palestine a still more\ninteresting feature at the points where her greatest rivers rise. This\nis the sudden emergence of full-bodied streams from the ground. These\nrivers have, so to speak, no infancy. Their springs are not little toy\nfountains with trickling rivulets. They bound into the world full-grown,\nwith a rush and fury which is perhaps unparalleled in any other land.\nThis inspiring and suggestive phenomenon has not been without its effect\non the national thought and imagination. In the midst of one of the most\ngloriously forceful passages of Isaiah (chap. xxxv.) the vigour and\nimpetuousness of the prophecy finds its climax in the sudden leap of\nwaters which \u201cbreak out\u201d in the wilderness, and which are described in\nthe same breath as the first glad leap of the restored lame man, leaping\n\u201cas an hart.\u201d When Moses in his blessing of the tribes speaks of Dan\n\u201cleaping from Bashan,\u201d he refers to that wonderful spot where Jordan, in\nthe tribe of Dan, leaps up from below Hermon. Matthew Arnold, had he\nchanced to think of it, might have seen in his delight in full and\nrushing streams another link connecting him with the Hebrew race with\nwhich he so quaintly claims affinity.\n\nThe south country keeps its rivers for the most part below ground,\nthough even there considerable streams suddenly break out. Conder\ndescribes deep blue pools of fresh water near Antipatris which \u201cwell up\nclose beneath the hillock surrounded by tall canes and willows, rushes\nand grass.\u201d[11] Yet the greatest outbursts are in the north. One\ntraveller describes a river-source in Lebanon as an abyss of seething\nblack waters, into which he rolled large stones, only to see them\npresently reappear, flung up like corks from the depths. At one of its\nsources the Abana bursts from the masonry of some ancient temples \u201ca\npure and copious river, rushing into light at once as if free.\u201d\n\nIt is at Hermon that we find the true centre of the water supply of\nPalestine. Parts of it are under snow all the year round, and it gives\noff some thirty streams flowing in every direction. Not one of these\nstreams reaches the Mediterranean. They flow forth only to evaporate\nsooner or later in some inland morass or sea, and to return in vapour\nthat will be condensed again by the snows of Hermon. Conder describes\none of these in the north, whose water \u201crushes out suddenly with a\nroaring noise from a cavern\u201d in winter, and transforms the plain below\ninto a lake. But the great work of Hermon is the Jordan, two of whose\nthree sources leap up from its roots. The most striking of these is that\nof Banias, which Jewish tradition names as one of the three springs of\nPalestine which \u201cremained not closed up after the Flood.\u201d On the crest\nof a spur of Hermon stands the ruined castle of Subeibeh, one of the\nnoblest ruins in the world. From the castle you descend 1400 feet to the\nvillage of Banias, the ancient Caesarea Philippi. The descent, over\nbasalt boulders whose interstices are filled for the most part with\nthorn-bushes, is said in the guide-books to be practicable for horses.\nOne wonders how long the horses are supposed to survive the journey! The\nview across and down the Jordan valley is indescribably grand. Near the\nfoot the path curves round the top of a precipice and doubles back on a\nlower level to a white-washed Mohammedan weli, or praying-house. Just\nbelow, as you look down from the weli, a large cavern is seen, with\nniches beautifully carved in the rocks beside it. On one of these niches\nis the inscription \u201cTo Pan and the Nymphs,\u201d and on another the names\n\u201cAugustus and Augustina.\u201d Here, most likely on the site of a prehistoric\nholy place of the Semites, stood the Roman temple which Herod built in\nhonour of Augustus. Nor is it wonderful that these and so many other\nfaiths have counted this a sacred place; for Jordan used to pour forth\nfrom that cavern, clear and full-bodied. Now the old cave-channel is\nchoked up with debris, and Jordan forces its way to light in many\nsmaller fountains among the stones and earth of the open space below,\nwhich is coloured by long trails of slime. Within a few yards the\nstreams unite in a rich green pool, with reeds and luxuriant\nwater-growth. The second source of Jordan is even more impressive. It is\nat Tell-el-Kadi, some two miles west from Banias. On the western side of\nthis Tell, on which there are traces and ruins of an ancient city, there\nis a thicket of rank undergrowth, from beneath whose lowest branches and\ncreepers the river suddenly appears, spreads immediately into a wide\npool, and within a hundred yards is racing violently south in foaming\nrapids. The pool was reported to be bottomless, but the irrepressible\nlittle canoe _Rob Roy_ was launched upon its boiling waters, and the\ndepth proved to be but five feet!\n\nJordan is a river worth much study, interesting from\n\n[Illustration: THE GOLDEN, OR BEAUTIFUL, GATE, FROM THE GARDEN OF\nGETHSEMANE.\n\nThe well is in the upper part of the Garden of Gethsemane.]\n\nevery point of view--geographical, historical, religious.[12] Changing\nin colour, as the floods wash down their various soils to it, it tumbles\nand rushes south through a stretch of some 137 miles without a single\ncascade till it sweeps, with strong and level current, into the Dead\nSea. At Banias its height above the Mediterranean is about 1000 feet,\nbut the extraordinary valley is chiselled on a running slope down to the\ndepths of the earth. Clouds have been seen sweeping above its bed 500\nfeet below the level of the ocean. The Dead Sea level is 1290 feet below\nthe Mediterranean; its bottom, at the deepest part, is as deep again.\nSpanned by a few bridges, of which only one or two are now entire, the\nriver\u2019s course is for the most part through solitudes without\ninhabitants, or tenanted but by a few half-savage people. The valley is\nalternately wide and narrow, swelling out in five broad expanses, of\nwhich the two northern are lakes, and the other three are plains. From\nBanias to the last confluence of the different head-streams is a\ndistance of some seven miles through green land. Soon after that point\nthe river loses itself in a vast forest of impenetrable papyrus canes\ngrowing in shallow water, from which it emerges in a little lake or\nclear space half a mile lower. Then it flows, a solemn and glassy\nstream, for some three miles and a half down a sharp-edged lane whose\nperpendicular banks are tall papyrus canes, till it glides silently out,\na hundred feet in breadth, into Lake Huleh. From Huleh to the Sea of\nGalilee is ten miles, along the greater part of which the river tears\nthrough a narrow gorge. Emerging clear and broad from the Sea of Galilee\nit soon begins its innumerable windings. A few streams flow into it\nperennially from east and west, and countless torrents after rain. In\nthe north it quickens a poisonous soil into rank vegetation, and spreads\nits superfluous waters on steaming swamps, full of malaria. Opposite\nShechem its clay is good for moulding, and the mounds which break the\nlevel are for the most part apparently the remains of old brickfields or\nbrass foundries. As it descends to the broadest of its plains at Jericho\nthe valley falls into three distinct levels. From the hills a flat\nexpanse of desolation spreads towards the river, till it falls in steep\nbanks of 150 to 200 feet to the lower level of the \u201ctrench\u201d down which\nthe river flows in flood. Finally, in the centre of this lies the\nordinary channel, at whose banks the trees and undergrowth seem to\ncrouch and kneel over the sullen brown stream.\n\nThere are other perennial rivers in Syria, but their courses are short.\nThe Litany (Leontes) rises between the Lebanons a short distance north\nof the highest springs of Jordan. For many miles the two flow in\nparallel courses, divided only by the little ridge of Jebel-es-Zoar. But\nbefore Jordan has passed its new springs at Banias, the Litany has swept\nto the west in a sharp right angle, to pour itself into the ocean north\nof Tyre. It is a fine stream, yellow with rich loam, but its bed is in\nthe sharp angle of valleys whose sides remind one of the Screes of\nWastwater. Its descent is so rapid that even if there were meadows in\nthe bottoms of its gorges, it would hurry past them to pour its treasure\nof water and of soil alike into the thankless sea. The Abana, rising in\nthe same region as the springs of the other two, has a course of only\nsome fifty miles. Kishon, which waters the Plain of Esdraelon, is\ncertainly the most generous in the matter of cultivated fields, but it\nis also the most treacherous. Its fords are never certain, for great\nmasses of sand and mud are shifted to and fro in the most unaccountable\nmanner. The rest of the perennial rivers are either tributaries of the\nJordan, companions of the Abana in its eastern course, or streams from\nCarmel or the central mountain range, whose short course to the\nMediterranean is of little account.\n\nAs we think of these rivers flowing through a land which so sorely needs\ntheir help, we cannot but feel oppressed by a sense of waste that is\nalmost tragic. There is no boat plying on any of them. Most are, indeed,\nfar too rapid for that, but not everywhere. The guide-book speaks of a\nsteamer plying on the lower reaches of Jordan; and the local story of\noppression there--every district has its particular grievance--is of two\nboats that had been brought for the service of the monastery, and then\nconfiscated by Government. The only boats of any kind we saw on fresh\nwater between Hebron and Damascus were two on the Sea of Galilee, manned\nby Syrians in red jerseys, on which the magic letters were inscribed,\n\u201cCOOK.\u201d In the old days it must have been very different. There is\nmention of a ferry-boat on the Jordan in 2 Sam. xix. 18, and in Christ\u2019s\ntime there must have been a considerable fishing fleet on the lake. The\ntrireme on the coins of Gadara reminds us of Roman vessels which sailed\nthere for warlike purposes, and here and there you find a valley dammed\nacross its breadth for the construction of an artificial lake, on which\na _naumachia_ or naval fight might add piquancy to the games. There is\nan island in the Dead Sea itself on which what are supposed to be ruins\nof a landing-stage are still visible, showing that long ago even these\nuncanny waters were not without their sailors. There used to be a\nwrecked boat in the Ateibeh marsh from which three men had been drowned.\nThe wreck of another boat was still visible some years ago under the\nsurface of Lake Huleh. These wrecks are but too truthfully symbolic of\nthe fate of men\u2019s attempts to utilise the waters of Israel. The Abana,\nindeed, is utilised. Never was river so wholly taken possession of by a\ncity as Abana by Damascus. She flows into it--right into the heart of\nit--and disappears underground; she is led captive into a thousand\nfountains in public streets and the courts of private houses; she is\nsent in a thousand little channels to irrigate the gardens which\nsurround it. All the more pitiful is her ending in that wild and haunted\nmorass of Ateibeh, where she yields up her waters to the desert and the\nsun.\n\nThe fate of Jordan seems still more tragic. In the far north his waters\nare indeed utilised to some small extent for irrigation, but for the\nvastly longer part of his course he does nothing but flee through the\nwilderness to the bitter sea in the south. Dr. Ross has strikingly\nsummed up Jordan\u2019s career in the words: \u201cSo, in a valley which is\nthirsting for water, the Jordan rushes along to an inglorious end.\u201d Yet\nthat is only one aspect of the matter. Jordan gave Israel her last story\nof Elijah and her first of Christ\u2019s ministry. Neither association is of\nthe kindly sort which a nation\u2019s sentiment usually gathers round its\nrivers. There is, as it were, the glitter of fire from the prophet\u2019s\ndeparture for ever lending to these brown waters a sort of unearthly\ngrandeur. Those fiery horses which bathed their feet here take the place\nof the gentle memories of generations of lovers or little children. Yet\nthat is true to the spirit of the river. To Israel it stood for a very\nforceful and practical fact. Their first crossing of Jordan began their\nnational life in Palestine and cut them off from the desert. So, to the\nend, the Jordan stood for this to them, and that was much. Jordan\ncreated no great city as Abana created Damascus; but it streamed down\nthe side of the east, flinging, as it were, a great arm round the land,\nclaiming it from the desert, and proclaiming this to be oasis and the\nhome of men. Disraeli characteristically writes: \u201cAll the great things\nhave been done by the little nations. It is the Jordan and the Ilyssus\nthat have civilised the modern races.\u201d And truly it is the Jordan that\nis in great part responsible for the Hebrew share in that\ncivilisation--not by his material gifts, indeed, which were ever\nungenerously given and carelessly gathered, but by his sentiment of\nisolation and aloofness from the rest of the Eastern world, to which we\nowe much that is best in our inheritance from Israel.\n\nFor the homelier uses and gentler thoughts of Israel\u2019s waters we must\nturn to the lesser fountains and streams. There is, it is true, much\ndisillusionment for the sentimentalist even here. Remembering the sweet\nmusic in which they have been sung--the \u201cSong of the Well\u201d (\u201cSpring up,\nO Well, sing ye unto it!\u201d) or the \u201cgently flowing waters\u201d of the 23rd\nPsalm--one expects the perfection of purity and freshness. Early\ntradition has pictured the angel Gabriel meeting with Mary at the\nvillage spring of Nazareth; nor is that the only Syrian fountain by\nwhich the footsteps of angels have been traced. All the more trying is\nthe reality. Hideously tattooed women squat by the sweetest springs,\nfling filthy garments into them, and beat them with stones till the\nstream flows brown below them; or they toil wearily a mile or two away\nfrom their villages to fill the heavy water-pots, beasts of burden\nrather than mothers in Israel. Of cleanliness the natives have not the\nremotest idea. We used to see them filling their vessels from a stream\nwhere our horses were being washed down after their day\u2019s ride, and they\nseemed on principle to choose a spot just below that where the horse was\nstanding. Often the water seemed calculated to assuage hunger rather\nthan thirst. The natives drank it freely when it was mere mud in\nsolution; and even when it was clear, the glass bottles on the table\nsometimes presented the appearance of lively and well-stocked aquariums.\nOur squeamishness was unintelligible even to our camp-servants, who\ndrank in defiance large draughts of the water we refused. The landmarks\nof the hot journey are the pools where one may bathe, and the first\nsight of Elisha\u2019s Fountain and the Well of Harod is refreshing to\nremember still. But one touch of the bottom mud sufficed to bring to the\nsurface a gas which sent us posthaste to our stores of quinine--and yet\nthe deliciousness of the plunge was worth the risk!\n\nThe spell of the fountains remains in spite of all, and no traveller\nwonders that the ancient men revered them as sacred places. Israel\nexulted in the forcefulness of her larger rivers, but hardly knew their\nkindlier resources. Her affection was kept for those wells and\nstreamlets which flowed past her doors and made glad her cities. It is a\nland of dried-up torrent-beds, and no river made glad any City of God\nexcept at the seasons when God had filled it with His rain. In such a\nland a wayside well like Jacob\u2019s counts for more than our Western\nimagination can realise. Property in water was an older institution than\nproperty in land. These wayside wells and \u201csealed fountains\u201d refreshed\nmen from time immemorial in the very presence of their enemies. They\nwere the choicest riches of their owners. The journey from south to\nnorth leads one ever more frequently in among such springs, but many\ntowns of the south are built at places where there is abundance of\nthem. Hebron has twelve little fountains; Gaza fifteen. In Samaria they\nburst forth in every valley, and the vale of Nablus is a net-work of\nrivulets, springing, it is said, from no fewer than eighty sources. In\nGalilee they are still more abundant. At Khan Minyeh, supposed by many\nto be the site of the ancient Capernaum, the ruins are mostly those of\naqueducts, and springs break forth and stream in little rivers\neverywhere.\n\nThe beauty and refreshing coolness of such fountains is very great. The\ndripping walls of the Khan Minyeh aqueducts are covered with magnificent\nbunches of maidenhair, whose fronds were the broadest we had ever seen.\nThe Well of Harod, close by the stream where Gideon tested his soldiers,\nis one of the loveliest spots imaginable. There is a little cave, where\nthe pebbles shine up blue through the shallow water; ferns grow in its\ncrannies, and at the side a clear spring, two feet broad and five inches\ndeep, splashes into the pool from a recess entirely hidden by hanging\nmaidenhair. Nor is the natural beauty of these springs their only charm.\nWhen one remembers the days of old through which they flowed, and the\nmen who stooped to drink of them so along ago, all that was most sacred\nand most heroic to one\u2019s childhood lives again, and speaks to the heart.\nAy! and to the conscience too; for these were the springs that gave to\nBible men their metaphors of a fountain opened for sin and for\nuncleanness; this is the land in which it sprang up and from which it\nhas flowed forth with cleansing and refreshment for the whole earth.\n\n[Illustration: THE LAKE OF GALILEE, LOOKING NORTH FROM TIBERIAS.\n\nThe road at the left of the picture is the main road to the north from\nTiberias.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nBROWN VILLAGES, WHITE TOWNS, AND A GREY CITY\n\n\nNothing could better illustrate the completeness of the change through\nwhich Israel passed when she exchanged a nomadic for a settled life than\nthe great importance which the idea of _the city_ has in the Bible.\nKinglake describes the Jordan as \u201ca boundary between the people living\nunder roofs and the tented tribes that wander on the farther side.\u201d The\nvery name of \u201ccity,\u201d applied to these grotesque little hamlets, shews\nhow seriously they took themselves, and compels an amused respect for so\nmighty a little self-importance, for a \u201cKing\u201d of that time might be\ncompared with a chairman of parish council to-day. The idea of the city\nbecame more and more part of the religion of Israel as Jerusalem rose to\nreligious as well as civil importance. To them God was a city-dweller,\nand there is an eastern saying about lonely wanderers journeying\nhomeless towards the sunset, that they are \u201cgoing to God\u2019s gate.\u201d\n\nThe changing history of the land has passed it through many phases, and\nno doubt there are far wider differences between the centuries in\nrespect of men\u2019s dwellings than in respect of those natural features of\nthe land which we have been studying in the preceding pages. This\nchapter will describe present conditions. And yet in spite of changes\nthe aspect of things must be pretty much what it always was. Men\ngathered into cities on some strongly fortified hill for purposes of\nwar, or around some holy place for worship, or in some fertile valley\nfor safe agriculture; and the sites thus chosen are retained for the\nmost part. With the exception of the wandering tents, which are\noccasionally seen throughout the land, there is hardly a solitary\ndwelling in Palestine which is not a ruin. And the want of good roads,\ntogether with the uncertain government, seems still to keep the village\ncommunities more apart than they are in most countries. Each village has\na character and a reputation of its own, and cherishes views regarding\nits neighbours which it is not slow to impart either to them or to\nforeigners. The colour of these townships divides them into the three\nclasses of our title. Damascus and Beyrout are beyond the scope of the\npresent description--Damascus, the greyest city in the world so far as\nage is concerned; and Beyrout, the over-grown white town upon which the\nends of the world are come, leaving it little individual character of\nits own. Keeping to the south of these, we have the clearly marked\ndivision, with little overlapping. A brown village may indeed have a\nwhite church or mosque gleaming from its bosom, and the walls of some\ntowns besides Jerusalem are grey; yet in the main it is a land of brown\nvillages, white towns, and one grey city.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe villages are very brown--\u201cdust-coloured,\u201d as they have been happily\ncalled. Seen from a distance they generally look inviting, but it takes\nthe traveller no long time to believe that a near approach will\ncertainly disillusionise him. They have many sorts of charm in the\ndistance. Some of them are set up on the edge of a hill, and these seen\nfrom below present all the appearance of fortification, their flat roofs\nand perpendicular sides giving them an angular and military aspect.\nOthers are surrounded by neatly walled and cultivated olive-yards which\ngive the promise of a well-conditioned village. In the rare instances\nwhere trees are planted among the dwellings, the flat brown roofs seem\nto nestle among the branches in delightful contentment and restfulness.\nWhere trees are absent there is generally a high cactus hedge, serving\nas an enclosing wall, which sets the village in a pleasant green. Even\nthose hamlets which have about them no green of any kind are not\nuninviting, especially if they are built on a hill-slope. There is a\npeculiar formality and neatness given by irregular piles of flat-roofed\nbuildings overlapping each other at different levels. But as you\napproach, all is disillusionment. The trees seem to detach themselves\nand stand apart in the untidy paths. The cactus hedge is repulsive, with\nits spiked pulpy masses and its bare and straggling roots. The brown\nwalls seem to decay before your eyes, and the village seen from within\nits own street changes to a succession of ruinous heaps of d\u00e9bris, with\nexcavations into the mud of the hillside. If, as at Nain, there be a\nwhite-walled church or mosque in the place, it seems to stand alone in a\nlong moraine of ruins. An acrid smell hangs upon the air, for the fuel\nis dried cakes of dung. These are plastered over the walls of low ovens\ninto which the mud seems to swell in great blisters by the street-side.\nIn some of these ovens crowds of filthy children and tattooed women are\nsitting, while the men loiter in idle rows along the house walls. When\nsuddenly you say to yourself that this is Shunem, or this Nain, or\nMagdala, the disappointment is complete.\n\nIn some places the houses are built of stones gathered from the ancient\nruins of the neighbourhood (Colonel Conder believes that in hardly any\ninstance are the stones fresh quarried). Other houses consist simply of\nfour walls of mud, with a roof of the same material laid upon branches\nset across. A small stone roller may be seen lying somewhere on the\nroof, for in heat the mud cracks and needs to be rolled now and then to\nkeep the rain from leaking through. The sheikh, or headman of the\nvillage, has a better house--often the one respectable habitation in the\nplace, but suggestive of a ruined tower at that. It is a two-storeyed\nbuilding, whose great feature is the public hall, or reception-room,\nwhere local matters are discussed and strangers interviewed. There is no\nglass in the windows, and the strong sunlight deepens the gloom of the\ninteriors to a rich brown darkness with points of high light and\ncolour. The shade is precious in these sun-smitten places, and Conder\nnarrates an incident which often recurs to mind in them. It was in the\ncave of the Holy House at Nazareth, the reputed home of Jesus in His\nboyhood. The visitor \u201cobserved to the monk that it was dark for a\ndwelling-house, but he answered very simply, \u2018The Lord had no need of\nmuch light.\u2019\u201d The rooms are almost bare of furniture, a bed and a few\nwater-jars in a corner being sometimes the only objects visible. In some\nof them the floor space is divided into two levels, half the room being\na platform two or three feet higher than the other half. On this\nplatform the family lives, while the cattle occupy the lower part; and\nalong the edge of the platform there are hollows in its floor, which\nserve as mangers for the beasts. No doubt it was in such a manger that\nJesus was laid in Bethlehem.\n\nThe inhabitants of these villages are the Fellahin, of whom Conder has\ngiven so interesting a description.[13] He recognises in them a people\nof almost unmixed ancient stock. Distinct from Bedawin and from Turks,\nthey are the \u201cmodern Canaanites,\u201d probably descendants of the original\ninhabitants whom Israel displaced. These were never quite exterminated;\nand although there have no doubt been many minor instances of the\nabsorption of other breeds, yet in the main they remain very much as\nthey were when they talked with Jesus in Aramaic, or even as they were\nin days much earlier than His. A slight enrichment to their lives has\nbeen made by each of the invaders, and reminiscences of Israel, Rome,\nthe early Christians, the Crusaders, may be found blended with their\nMohammedanism. But they are conservative to the last degree, and any\nradical change seems an impossibility among them. Many things contribute\nto this conservatism, among which perhaps the chief is the tradition of\nintermarriage between the inhabitants of the same village. Another\nfactor is their extraordinary ignorance, combined with a pride no less\nremarkable. It would be difficult to find anywhere men so self-satisfied\non such small capital of merit. A third cause of their immovableness is\nto be found in the usury and oppression by which they are held down; and\neven their local self-government--that _imperium in imperio_ which\nprevails under the larger oppression of the Turk--keeps up, so far as it\nis allowed, the ancestral ways and thoughts. In one respect this\nconservatism of theirs is a gain to the world: it has preserved among\nthem those habits of speech and manner with which the Bible has made us\nall so familiar; and it is to them, with all their faults, that we owe\nmuch of the \u201csacramental value\u201d of Palestine travel.\n\nAs for their faults, no doubt they are many, but it is not for the\npassing stranger to attempt an estimate of their character. The most\nobvious lapses are sins of speech, and one always has the impression\nthat the interpreter is toning down as he translates. One can see that\nproperty is insecure, and life by no means so sacred as in the West. One\nincident brought this home to us vividly. Some of our party had been\ndetained on an exploring excursion till after dark. When we asked a\ngroup of natives what could have become of them, the answer was more\nsignificant than reassuring, for they pointed with their fingers\nvertically downwards! It was not so bad as that, however, for we soon\nheard revolver shots, and answered them. We fired into a field, aiming\nat a large stack of corn to prevent accidents. Conceive our horror when\na silent figure in flowing robes rose from the centre of the stack! He\nwas spending the night there to keep his property from thieves. For the\nrest, it is their laziness that strikes one most forcibly. Their\nagriculture is as leisurely as it is primitive. They sit while reaping,\nand thresh by standing upon boards studded with flints, which oxen draw\nover the threshing-floors. Their ploughs are but iron-shod sticks which\nscratch the surface of the field. In outlandish districts they are\ndescribed as mere savages, but we saw little to justify such a\ncriticism. They are uncompromisingly dirty everywhere, yet their food is\nsimple, and they appear in the main to be healthy enough. At first one\u2019s\nimpression of them is of universal gloom, sulky and contemptuous; but\nthe mood soon changes if you stay among them for a little time, and the\nknit brows relax to a smiling childishness.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOf white towns, with a population between 3000 and 3500, there are about\na dozen in Palestine, of which, excluding Damascus and Beyrout, the best\nknown are Haifa and Acre, Tyre and Sidon, Tiberias, Jenin, Nablus,\nBethlehem, Hebron, Gaza, Jaffa. They shine from far as you approach\nthem. Some, like Jenin, gleam most picturesquely from among palm trees;\nothers, like Nazareth seen from Jezreel, shew like stars of white in\nhigh mountain valleys; and yet others, like Bethshan, appear \u201clike white\nislands in the mouth of an estuary.\u201d The nearer view of Nazareth, when\nthe hill has been climbed and the town suddenly reveals itself, is one\nof rare beauty. You are looking down into an oval hollow full of clean\nand bright houses. Many cypress trees and spreading figs enrich the\nprospect, and the whole picture is most pleasing. Bethlehem, again, has\na picturesqueness that is all its own. Approaching it from the south,\nthe track turns sharply into a valley whose end is entirely blocked by a\nlofty hill, covered along its whole length with shining white masonry\nset far up against the sky. It looks trim and newly finished; and one\nhardly knows whether to be delighted or vexed that Bethlehem should be\nso workmanlike a place.\n\nBut it is the sea-coast towns which are the most characteristic of their\nclass. Tyre is a surprisingly living and wide-awake place still, and the\nname recalls ever some vista of blue sea with ships seen through the\nwhite arches or rich foliage that decorate the town\u2019s western front.\nJaffa is still more surprising. It is usual to embark at Port Said late\nin the evening, and when you wake in the morning and find the steamer at\nanchor, the first sight of Palestine that greets you is Jaffa, framed in\nthe brass circle of the port-hole--a very perfect and brilliant little\npicture. The town is set well up, a conical\n\n[Illustration: THE FOUNTAIN OF THE VIRGIN AT NAZARETH.]\n\nhill of sparkling colour, backed, as we first saw it, by cloudless\nSyrian sky, into which it ran its two minarets. It was larger than we\nhad imagined, and much loftier, with a very bold and gaily tilted\nedge-line--a city set on its hill, and with a mighty consciousness of\nbeing so set, like Coventry Patmore\u2019s old English cottage. Dark-leaved\ntrees, red roofs, and occasional jewel-like points of green, where\ncopper cupolas have been weathered, light up the picture into one of the\nmost ideal of its kind.\n\nWithin, the white towns shew a strange mixture of splendour and of\nsordidness. The streets are aggressively irregular, and the whole\nimpresses one as at once ancient and unfinished. The wider spaces are\nfull of colour and of noise, and the houses which surround them are a\npatchwork of all manner of buildings, with smaller structures leaning\nagainst their sides, and gaudy awnings of ragged edge protecting\ndoorways from the sun. Where the street narrows, it is filled with\ncrowds of men, women, and children, and laden donkeys pushing them aside\nas they pass along. There are lanes, also, in deep shadow, with\nbuttresses and long archways converting them into high and narrow\ntunnels. The shopkeepers in these lanes sit behind their piles of\nmerchandise and converse in shrill voices with neighbours on the other\nside, not six feet away. The whole appearance of the town is that of\nclose-huddled dwellings, which have squeezed themselves into as little\nspace as possible, and have been forced to expand upwards for want of\nlateral room.\n\nThese towns are the mingling-places of Syria--crucibles of its national\nlife, in which new and composite races are being molten. One or two of\nthem, like Nablus and Hebron, are inhabited chiefly by a fanatical\nMoslem population, and in these life stagnates. But the others are open\nto the world. In the past, long before the modern stream of travellers\ncame, this process was going on. In very early times the towns were\nrecruited by the neighbouring Canaanites and Arabs. They were, as they\nstill are, so insanitary that if it were not for such additions their\npopulation would soon die out. In Christ\u2019s time the Greek and Roman\nworld poured itself into them; then came the long train of Christian\npilgrims; after that the Crusader hosts. Each of these, and many other\nincursions, have helped to mix the race of townsfolk. In Bethlehem and\nelsewhere there are many descendants of the Crusaders, whose fair hair\nand complexion tells its own tale. But the mingling of races has gone on\nwith quite a new rapidity during the last few decades. Trade and travel\nhave combined to force the West upon the East. Circassians, Kurds,\nTurks, Jews, Africans, Cypriotes have settled there. Travellers who have\ntwice visited the land, with an interval of some years between their\nvisits, are struck by the sudden and sweeping change. Even the passing\nvisitor cannot fail to perceive it. The villagers remain apart,\nintermarrying within the village or with neighbouring Fellahin. The\ntownspeople bring their brides from other towns, and sometimes from\nother nations. Many kinds of imported goods are exposed for sale in the\nbazaars. There are parts of Damascus where nothing is sold that was not\nmade in Europe. The habits of the West are also invading towns.\nIntoxicating liquors are freely sold, and in Nazareth there are now no\nfewer than seventeen public-houses. \u201cParis fashions\u201d--probably\nbelated--are ousting the ancient customs. Tattooing is quite out of\nfashion among the women of the towns, and knives and forks have\npenetrated native houses even in Hebron. The traveller comes into\ncontact with the townspeople far less fully than with the villagers. In\nthe towns everybody is minding some business or other of his own, and\nthe stranger meets with the residenter merely as buyer with seller. Once\nonly did we see the interior of a town house, and that visit confirmed\nthe impression of a new and composite life very remarkably. It was in\nTyre. An agreeable native, who had brought some curiosities for sale,\ninvited us to go home with him and inspect his stock. The house was in a\nnarrow street, but the rooms were large. His wife sat near the window\nsmoking a nargileh, her eyebrows painted black, and her face heavily\npowdered and rouged. The room was crowded with furniture. There were a\nsofa and two European beds with mosquito curtains; a new English\nwardrobe of carved walnut, with a large mirror; a kitchen dresser\ncovered with dinner dishes of the customary European kind. Dry-goods\nboxes were drawn forth from under the beds and the sofa, and pasteboard\nboxes from drawers and shelves, all filled with the most indescribable\nmedley of curiosities from rifled tombs. Bracelets, tear-bottles,\near-rings came to light in rapid succession. Finally, a square foot of\nlead-work appeared--part of a leaden winding-sheet which had recently\nbeen torn off an ancient corpse in a sarcophagus--a heavy shroud, finely\nornamented with deep-moulded garlands and figures. Our hosts were\ngood-humoured and pleasant people, who conducted the conversation in\nsome five different languages, and appeared to combine in themselves and\ntheir properties several centuries of human life.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe grey city of Jerusalem stands unique among the towns of Palestine.\nWith the brown villages it has nothing in common. The immense variety of\nits buildings, with their domes, flat terraces, minarets, and sloping\nroofs, distinguishes it at once from the rectangular masses of the\nvillages. As if on purpose to emphasise the contrast, one of these\nvillages has set itself right opposite the city across a narrow valley.\nLooking from the southern wall of the Haram enclosure, this village of\nSiloam is seen sprawling along the opposite hillside, a mere drift of\nsquare hovels seen across some fields of artichokes. Nothing could\nappear more miserable; inferiority is confessed in every line of it.\n\nMore might be said for the description of Jerusalem as the largest of\nthe white towns. It is, like them, a centre where races mingle; indeed\nit is _the_ centre of such mingling. All roads lead to it from north,\nsouth, east, and west; and when one suddenly comes upon one of those old\nRoman roads which make for Jerusalem with such purposeful and grim\ndirectness over the Judean mountains, one realises that this has been\nthe centre and mingling-place of nationalities for many centuries. Yet\non the spot an obvious distinction is felt at once. There are two\nJerusalems: the old one within the walls, and a new one spreading on the\nopen ground to the west and north. This \u201cnew Levantine city side by side\nwith the old Oriental city\u201d is quite a modern place. When Stanley wrote\nhis _Sinai and Palestine_ it was unsafe to inhabit houses outside the\nwalls. Now such houses are clustered together to the west in a city\nwhich is actually larger than the enclosed one, and whose rows of shops\nare hardly distinguishable from those of Western Europe. A strange\nmedley its buildings are! The best sites are occupied by the great\nRussian Cathedral and Hospice, white-walled and leaden-roofed. Beyond\nthese, embedded in Jewish \u201ccolonies,\u201d are the European consulates, with\na Syrian Orphanage and an English Agricultural Settlement farther up the\nslope. The Tombs of the Kings lie to the north, in all their desolation,\nand the still more desolate Mound of Ashes which is supposed by some to\nbe a relic of Temple sacrifices; but these are next neighbours to the\nDominican monastery, the Bishop\u2019s house, and the house of that curious\nbody of Americans known as the \u201cOvercomers\u201d; while on the hill, not a\nmile above them, is an English villa. All this and much else pours\nitself into the city and mingles in the streets with the very composite\nlife already dwelling there. Just at the foot of the hill which Gordon\nidentified as Calvary, while Turkish bugles were blowing from the fort,\nwe saw two Syrians engaged in rough horseplay, a party of Americans and\nEnglish riding, some tonsured and cowled monks on foot, and a travelling\nshowman with an ape clinging to him in terror of a tormenting crowd of\nJews and Mohammedans; while poor women, unconscious of any part in so\nstrange a tableau, were returning to the city with full waterpots on\ntheir heads.\n\nYet in Jerusalem all this makes a different impression from that of\nother towns. The mingling of races here is but, as it were, the surface\nappearance of a far more wonderful fact. From the days of Solomon,\nIsrael centralised her life in Jerusalem. On that hill the mountainland\nseems to gather itself as in a natural centre, typical and\nrepresentative of the whole. There the nation centred its life also, in\n\u201cthe mountain throne, and the mountain sanctuary of God.\u201d Jeroboam\u2019s\nattempt to decentralise cost the nation dear; but in spite of that\nattempt the centralisation took effect, and made her the most composite\nof cities from the first. All ends of the earth meet here as in a focus.\nLaden camels of the Arameans from the far East are making for the city,\nand ships flying like a cloud of homing doves to their windows are\nbearing precious freights to her port. History and religion are\ncompressed within the walls. On the spot no one can forget the ancient\ngeography which regarded Jerusalem as the centre of the earth, with Hell\nvertically below, and the island of Purgatory its antipodes, and\nHeaven\u2019s centre overhead. In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre they shew\na flattened ball in a little hollow place as the centre of the world. As\nin some other cases of faulty science, an imaginative mind may discover\nhere a happy truth beneath the error. The composite life of Jerusalem\nwithout the walls is but of yesterday, that within the walls is hoary\nwith age.\n\nWe have called it \u201ca grey city,\u201d and even in respect of colour this is a\ntrue name. Not that there is any one colour of Jerusalem. In the varying\nlights of sunrise, noon, afternoon, and evening, its colour changes. At\none time it hangs, airy and dreamlike, over the steep bank of the Valley\nof Jehoshaphat; at another time it seems to sit solid on its rock, every\nroof and battlement picked out in photographic clearness; again, in the\ntwilight of evening, all is sombre with rich purple shadows. There are\nspots of colour, too, which break its monotonous dull hue. The Mosque of\nOmar, with its faint metallic greenish colour, stands in contrast to\neverything, and makes a background of the city for its isolated beauty.\nThere is another dome, that of the Synagogue of the Ashkenazim, whose\ncolour is a lustrous blue-green, shining over the city almost\nluminously. White minarets and spires are seen here and there, and a few\nred-tiled roofs have found place within the walls. Several spots are\nsoftened by the foliage of trees, and the pools, whose edges are formed\nof picturesque and irregular house-sides, catch and intensify the\ncolours in their rich reflections. Yet, in spite of all that, Jerusalem\nis grey. The walls are grey with a touch of orange in it. The houses,\nmassed and huddled close within, are grey with a touch of blue. They are\nbuilt roughly, the stones divided by broad seams of mortar, and most of\nthem in their humble way conform to the fashion set by the Mosque of\nOmar and the Holy Sepulchre, and are domed. But the domes of ordinary\nhouses are far from shapely, and suggest the fancy that the scorching\nsun has blistered the flat roofs.\n\nBy far the best view of Jerusalem is that which is seen from the Mount\nof Olives, as one approaches the city by the hill-road from Bethany. Her\nenvirons are of interest from many associations--there, on the Mount of\nOffence, Solomon offered sacrifices to idols; yonder, on the hill of\nScopus, the main body of Titus\u2019 troops was posted; here, near where we\nstand, is the place of the agony in Gethsemane. For many days one might\ngo round about the city, every day gaining new knowledge of its story.\nBut what the first eye-shot gives is this: a sharp angle formed by the\ntwo valleys of Jehoshaphat and Hinnom; steep banks rising from their\nbottoms to the walls, which they overlap in an irregular and wavy line;\nwithin the walls, glancing back from the angle which they form above the\njunction of the valleys, the eye runs up a gradually rising expanse of\nclose-packed building, which is continued more sparsely in the long\nrolling slope beyond, to the ridge of Scopus in the north, and to the\ndistant sweep of long level mountain-line in the west. It is as if the\nwhole city had slidden down and\n\n[Illustration: JOPPA FROM THE SEA.]\n\nbeen caught by that great angle of wall just before it precipitated\nitself into the gorges.\n\nTo see the grey city rightly, and feel how grey it is, you must view it\nacross these gorges. The more distant environs are detached from the\ncity. They are cultivated in patches, and dotted with modern buildings\nof various degrees of irrelevance. But these are mere accidents, which\nthe place seems to ignore. The gorges themselves are part and parcel of\nthe city, and they stand for the overflow of her sad and desolate\nspirit. Their sides are banks of rubbish--the wreckage and d\u00e9bris of a\nscore of sieges, the accumulation of three thousand years. You look from\nthe lower pool of Siloam in the valley of Hinnom, up a long dreary slope\nof dark grey rubbish, down which a horrible black stream of liquid filth\ntrickles, tainting the air with its stench. Far off above you stands the\nwall, which in old days enclosed the pool. Here the city seems to have\nshrunk northwards, as if in some horror of conscience. The Field of\nBlood and the Hill of Evil Counsel are just across the gorge to the\nsouth. The valleys are full of tombs, those on the city side for the\nmost part Mohammedan, while the lower slopes of Olivet are paved with\nthe flat tombstones of Jews.\n\nWhat a stretch of history unrolls itself to the imagination of him who\nlingers on the sight of Jerusalem! The boundaries seem to dwindle, till\nthat which stands there is the old grey battle-beaten fortress of the\nJebusites, the last post held by her enemies against Israel. David\nconquers it, and the procession of priests and people bring up to its\ngate the ark, for the celebration of whose entrance tradition has\nclaimed the 24th Psalm. A new city rises, and falls, and rises again,\nthrough more than twenty sieges and rebuildings. Assyrians, Babylonians,\nRomans, Moslems, Crusaders batter at its gates. The level of the streets\nrises through the centuries, till now the traveller walks on a pavement\nthirty or forty feet above the floor of the ancient city. To discover\nthe old foundations, the explorers of our time have sunk shafts which at\nsome parts of the wall touch bottom 120 feet below the present surface.\nFar below the slighter masonry of the present wall, with its\nbattlemented Turkish work, lie the huge stones of early days, some of\nwhich bear still the marks of Ph\u0153nician masons.[14]\n\nThe gates, of course, are modern, though in some of them there are\nimmense stones of very ancient date, whose rustic work the Turkish\nbuilders have cut away, and scored the flat surface with imitation seams\nto make them match the small square stones of the building above. Yet\nthe positions of the ancient gates are not difficult to fix, and modern\nones do duty for some of them. Others are built up with solid masonry,\nnotably the double-arched \u201cGate Beautiful,\u201d which was thus closed\nbecause of a tradition that Messiah would return and enter the city by\nit. It was from this gate that in olden times the man went forth with\nthe scapegoat that was to bear the sins of the people to the wilderness.\nThe interior (which, however, dates from the seventh century) is a rich\nand beautiful piece of architecture, with massive monolithic pillars\nsupporting heavy arches, and an elaborately decorative entablature\ncornicing the walls. It is a dreary little place, with its litter of\nd\u00e9bris and its flights of bats; and its dead wall, pierced only with\nloophole windows, now affords neither entrance for Christ nor exit for\nsin. What memories crowd the mind of the beholder as he looks upon these\ngates! Here, seven centuries ago, went out the weeping company of the\ninhabitants, when Saladin took the city. There, eleven centuries\nearlier, the Jews set fire to the Roman siege-engine, the flames were\nblown back upon the fortifications, and the wall fell and made an\nentrance for the legions. That was near the Jaffa Gate. Here again, by\nthe Damascus Gate, if Gordon\u2019s theory be the correct one, the Saviour\npassed to Calvary; and there may be stones there on which the cross\nstruck, as Simon the Cyrenian staggered out under its weight.\n\nIt is indeed a strange city, a city of grey religion, in which three\nfaiths cherish their most hallowed memories of days far past. But \u201cfar\npast\u201d is written on every memory. That Beautiful Gate has indeed shut\nout Christ, and shut in all manner of sin unforgiven. The land, as has\nbeen already said, seems still inhabited by Christ, but He has forsaken\nJerusalem; it is almost impossible to feel any sense of His presence\nthere. This is a city of grey history, whose age and decrepitude force\nthemselves upon every visitor. It has been well described as having\nstill \u201cthe appearance of a gigantic fortress.\u201d But it is a weird\nfortress, with an air of petrified gallantry about it, and an infinite\nloneliness and desolation. No river flows near to soften the landscape.\nA fierce sun beats down in summer there upon \u201ca city of stone in a land\nof iron with a sky of brass.\u201d But for the sound of bugles, whose calls\nseem always to shock one with their savage liveliness, it might be a\nfossil city. Built for eternity, setting the pattern for that \u201cNew\nJerusalem\u201d which has been the Utopia of so many devout souls, it seems a\nsarcasm on the great promise, a city \u201cwith a great future behind it.\u201d\nWhat has this relic to do with a blessed future for mankind--this rugged\nbareness of stone, this contempt for beauty, this pitiful sordidness of\ndetail? History and religion seem to mourn together here, and one sees\nin every remembrance of it those two weeping figures, the most\nsignificant of all, for its secular and religious life--Titus, who\n\u201cgazed upon Jerusalem from Scopus the day before its destruction, and\nwept for the sake of the beautiful city\u201d; and Jesus Christ who, when\nthings were ripening for Titus, foresaw the coming of the legions as He\nlooked upon Jerusalem from Olivet, \u201cand when He was come near He beheld\nthe city and wept over it.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nPART II\n\nTHE INVADERS\n\n\nSince the days of the ancient Canaanites Palestine has been often\ninvaded. The composite life of the towns we have already noted. The\nhistory of Palestine shows how composite the life of the whole land has\nbecome. Its central position among the nations is known to every one. To\nthe south, shut off by but a strip of desert, are Egypt and Africa; to\nthe east lie Arabia, Persia, and the farther Asiatic continent; easily\naccessible on the north are Asia Minor, Turkey, and Russia; while ships\nalmost daily arrive which unite it on the west with Europe and America.\nYet one day\u2019s ride along any of its chief highways will do more to show\nthe traveller what that central position practically means, than all his\nstudy of it in books and on maps. For in one day\u2019s ride he may meet\nKurds, Circassians, Arabs, Syrians, Turks, Cypriotes, Greeks, Russians,\nEgyptians, Nubians, Austrians, French, Germans, English, and Americans.\nIn a mission school in Damascus were found some little dark-eyed Syrian\nchildren speaking English with an unmistakable Australian accent. They\nhad been born and brought up in Queensland.\n\nIt is in Hauran that this mixture of races is most forcibly thrust upon\none\u2019s notice. In the villages south of Damascus, the crowd which gathers\nround the tents is sure to contain several smiling negroes, some of\nthem branded on the cheeks; Circassians, with sickle-shaped nose and\nthin lips, sharp-featured and small-limbed men with an untamable\nexpression on their bitter faces; Arabs, darker of complexion, and more\nlanguid of eye; and Turkish soldiers, thin and smallpox bitten. There\nare to be found the Jew, sneering complacently at the inferior world;\nthe fanatical Moslem, who will break the water-bottle your lips have\ntouched; the Druse, who objects to coffee and tobacco, and to whom you\nhesitate to say \u201cGood morning,\u201d lest he may have conscientious scruples\nabout that; and the cross-bred ruffian, who has no scruples about\nanything. Everything helps to strengthen the impression. In Damascus it\nseems always to be Sunday with one or other portion of the population,\nand a different set of shutters are up each day for nearly half the\nweek. The railway, it might be supposed, must have blended the life of\nthe composite East, but it only serves to emphasise the compositeness.\nIn one of the Hauran stations we had some hours to wait. We spread our\nrugs in the shadow of the station-house, with a Turkish officer, an Arab\nsoldier, and a long line of camels to watch till lunch was ready. When\nthe time came, the hall of the booking-office was cleared of passengers\nof a dozen different nationalities, and our lunch was spread on the\nfloor, just in front of the ticket-window! The train came at last, an\nhour late, drawn by a rather blas\u00e9-looking engine. Then began that babel\nof tongues which shows how nations meet in the East. All the world\nseemed to have sent its representatives to that train--its wealth to\nthe white-cushioned first-class; its middle-class to the bare boards of\nthe second; its poverty to the cattle-trucks dignified by the name of\nthird,--while behind the carriages came two waggons loaded with grain,\ntheir owner perched high on one, and a baby\u2019s cradle on the other.\n\nAll this phantasmagoria of the present helps one to realise better the\nextraordinary history of the past. For thousands of years the flow of\nmanifold human life through Syria has been continuous. At the mouth of\nthe Dog River, whose valley has from time immemorial served as a main\npassage from the sea to the East for armies, there is, cut in smoothed\nfaces of the solid rock, the most remarkable collection of inscriptions\nin the world. The Assyrian slab shows still the familiar bearded figure\nof the monarch with his air of strength untempered by compassion. The\nEgyptian slab records its invasion in hieroglyphics. The Greek, Roman,\nand French stones tell their similar tale. Throughout the land the same\nthing repeats itself. In Hauran we found a fine Egyptian hieroglyphic\nembedded in the mud-and-rubble interior wall of a private courtyard, an\naltar of the time of Titus lying exposed on a hillside, and many\nGraeco-Roman inscriptions built into the walls of houses.[15] The five\nnames which we have selected from so great a number of invaders are\nthose whose mark upon the land has been deepest and most permanent.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nISRAELITE\n\n\nEvery traveller is impressed by the very meagre remains of a material\nkind which Israel has left for curious eyes. In a museum at Jerusalem\nmany of these have been gathered--fragments of pottery and glass, coins,\nand other relics,--but the total number of them is surprisingly small.\nThere are, of course, those huge stones to which reference has been\nalready made, cut in a style which experts used to regard as distinctive\nenough to enable them to identify it as Jewish work.[16] But\ninscriptions are extremely rare. Ph\u0153nicia and Israel seem to have\npurposely avoided the habit of Assyrian and Egyptian kings, who wrote\nupon everything they built. There is, of course, the Moabite stone,\nwhose characters are closely allied to Hebrew writing. But with that\nexception there is hardly any certain Hebrew inscription extant except\none. That is indeed a writing of romantic fame. There is a tunnel known\nas Hezekiah\u2019s Aqueduct, connecting the Fountain of the Virgin with the\nPool of Siloam at Jerusalem. Its length is rather more than the third of\na mile; its\n\n[Illustration: THE LAKE OF GALILEE, LOOKING SOUTH FROM TIBERIAS.\n\nTwo of the circular towers and wall which defended the ancient Tiberias\nare seen in the foreground.]\n\nheight varies from five or six feet to one foot four inches. Its course\nbends in a wide sweep which adds greatly to the distance, and is said to\nhave been taken in order to avoid tombs. There are a number of _culs de\nsac_, where the workmen had evidently lost their way. The flow of water\nis intermittent, so that Sir Charles Warren and his friends took their\nlives in their hands when they first explored it. Their mouths were\noften under water, \u201cand a breath of air could only be obtained by\ntwisting their faces up. To keep a light burning, to take measurements,\nand make observations under these circumstances was a work of no little\ndifficulty; and yet, after crawling through mud and water for four\nhours, the honour of finding the inscription was reserved for a naked\nurchin of the town, who, some years after, announced that he had seen\nwriting on the wall, whereupon Professor Sayce, and Herr Schick, and Dr.\nGuthe plunge naked into the muddy tunnel with acid solutions, and\nblotting-paper, and everything necessary to make squeezes, and emerge\nshivering and triumphant with the most interesting Hebrew inscription\nthat has ever been found in Palestine.\u201d[17] The inscription describes\nthe meeting of the two parties of miners, who, like the engineers of\nmodern tunnels, began to bore simultaneously at opposite ends.\n\nFailing any wealth of such material remains, we must seek for Israel in\nthe human life of the land. Jews are there in abundance, gathered, for\nthe most part, within their four holy cities of Jerusalem, Tiberias,\nHebron, and Safed. In Hebron they are a persecuted minority; in Safed\nthey form about half the population; in Jerusalem, where there are more\nthan seventy synagogues, it was estimated in 1898 that out of the 60,000\ninhabitants 41,000 were Jews, nearly six times the number of the\nMohammedans; while in Tiberias also they form about two-thirds of the\npopulation. Besides the Jews resident in these cities there are others\nboth in the older colonies and in the new settlements of the Zionist\nmovement, which have been created by the generosity of Jewish\nmillionaires. Reports differ as to the success of these interesting\nexperiments, and the knowledge of them which can be obtained from a\npassing visit is a quite inadequate ground for forming any judgment. Mr.\nZangwill eloquently pleads for the restoration of the land to its\nancient people; Colonel Conder assures us that the Jew is incapable of\nbecoming a thoroughly successful agriculturist, though as a shopkeeper,\na money-changer, or, in some cases, as a craftsman, he prospers in his\nnative land. Certain it is that Jews are gathering to it from Russia,\nPoland, Germany, Spain, Arabia, and many other countries, with what\nultimate result the future alone can shew.\n\nIt would be unfair and misleading to take the present Jewish population\nof Syria as the representative of ancient Israel. It still perpetuates,\nindeed, the sects of Pharisees and Sadducees, and it still holds aloof\nfrom the surrounding population with that independence and tenacity\nwhich has marked Israel from of old. Crucified by Romans, butchered and\ntortured by Crusaders, oppressed and driven forth by Moslems, this\nmarvellous people lives yet and will live on. In Europe the lot of the\nJew has been and still is a bitter one. In Syria to-day the lowest and\nmost insulting term of abuse among the Fellahin is to call each other\nJews. Yet the spirit of the people is not broken by oppression, as is\nthe spirit of the Fellahin. The Jew takes what comes and says little;\nbut he believes in himself, his past and his future, with a faith\nindomitable as it is daring. Still it must be confessed that the Jew of\nPalestine is generally repulsive. Mark Twain\u2019s description of them as he\nsaw them at Tiberias is hardly overdrawn--\u201clong-nosed, lanky,\ndyspeptic-looking ghouls with the indescribable hats on, and a long curl\ndangling down in front of each ear.\u201d The hats are circular black felt\nplates, giving to their wearers a peculiar air of conscious rectitude\nand semi-clerical superiority; the curls are grown for the convenience\nof the archangel in the resurrection! The younger men and lads of\nTiberias impress one as the most unpleasant-looking of all the\ninhabitants of the land. They are so neurotic and effeminate, and at the\nsame time so monstrously supercilious. The Jewish quarters are famous\nfor their excessive dirt. In the visitors\u2019 book of the hotel at\nTiberias, Captain MacGregor wrote \u201cthat the _Rob Roy_ and myself had\nstopped there two nights, and that the canoe was not devoured.\u201d This is\nnot encouraging, and in part it is the result of mistaken methods. Many\nof these Jews are subsidised, and a subsidised religion is inevitably\ndegrading. A man who receives an income for no other service to his kind\nthan that he is a Jew is not likely to do credit to his ancestors.\n\nIn the Samaritans we have better representatives of the ancient days. No\npeople in the land have a more pathetic quaintness about them than these\nfew survivors of antiquity who are still met with in the streets of\nNablus. They preserve the old type of features, for their blood has been\nunmixed for more than 2000 years. But they are fast dying out, and only\na remnant of less than 200 individuals is now alive. Difficult of\naccess, reserved, mysterious, they are the ghosts of ancient Israel, who\nseem to haunt rather than to enjoy their former heritage.\n\nIn the manners and customs of Syria a still more interesting memorial of\nIsrael is found. Many of these were not peculiar to Israel, nor was she\nthe first to cherish them. They are the forms of the general Semitic\nstock, of which she was but one people. But the words and ways of Israel\nare the only form of Semitic life with which the world is familiar, and\nevery student of the Bible finds in these the greatest source both of\ndevout and of scientific interest. In the towns and in Jerusalem there\nis still much to remind one of the life so matchlessly delineated in\nScripture. Lean and mangy dogs still sniff around Lazarus at the very\ndoor of Dives. The windows of houses generally face the interior courts,\nand the outer walls are blank, so that every door opened after nightfall\ncontrasts the vivid light of the interior with the \u201couter darkness\u201d of\nthe street. Still more in the country, among the Fellahin and the\nwandering Arabs, does one seem to live in Bible times. The gipsy-like\nBedawin west of Jordan are certainly degraded by change of nomadic\nhabits and by contact with the villagers; yet there is enough of their\ndesert heredity in them to interpret many of the patriarchal stories.\nThe Arab sitting at noon-day in the shaded edge of his tent, or walking\nat eventide in the fields where it is pitched, is the true son of\nAbraham and Isaac. When you know him better you will not improbably\nrecognise Jacob also. Except for tobacco, gunpowder, and coffee, he\nlives much as Israel lived in those days of wandering to which her\nwritings love to trace back her origin. Even these modern innovations\nhardly break the continuity. The Arab smokes with such enthusiasm that\nit is difficult to imagine his fathers without their chibouk; and his\nbrass-bound gun might be the heirloom of countless generations. Of the\nFellah and his descent, and his conservatism of the past, we have\nalready written.\n\nSo it comes to pass that he who journeys intelligently through Palestine\nreads the history of Israel ever afterwards with a quite new interest.\nThe Bible is incomparably the best guide-book to Syria; and you seem to\njourney through its chapters as you move from place to place. Here is\nthe fig tree planted in the vineyard; there, the tower guarding the\nwine-press. Unmuzzled oxen are trampling the corn on the\nthreshing-floor, from whence the wind drives the chaff in a glistening\ncloud. Women are still coming from the city to draw water, and grinding\nin couples at the mill. We saw the prodigal son, drinking and singing at\nBeyrout; and the owner of the waggonloads of corn we noted in Hauran had\nkept them from the last year on the chance of a drought, which would\nraise their prices in the market--he was the rich man of the prophets\nwho was grinding the faces of the poor. Under the walls of Jezreel a\ncurious coincidence brought back vividly to mind the tragic fate of\nJezebel. It was there that we first saw people with painted eyes and\nfaces; and there a horse lay dead with a pack of dogs at work upon the\nbody. Next morning, as we parted, nothing was left but the skeleton and\nthe hoofs. The people whom you meet are talking in Bible language. When\nthey repeat the familiar words of Scripture they are not quoting texts,\nbut transacting business in their ordinary way. We were told of a\nshepherd near Hebron who, when asked why the sheepfolds there had no\ndoors, answered quite simply, \u201cI am the door.\u201d He meant that at night,\nwhen the sheep were gathered within the circular stone wall of the\nenclosure, he lay down in its open entrance to sleep, so that no sheep\nmight stray from its shelter without wakening him, and no ravenous beast\nmight enter but across his body. In the north, an American was\nendeavouring to persuade a stalwart Syrian lad to try his fortunes in\nChicago. The boy evidently felt the temptation, but he turned smilingly\ntowards the middle-aged man at his side, and, pointing to him, answered,\n\u201cSuffer me first to bury my father.\u201d\n\nBut of all our experiences there was one which recalled the ancient life\nmost vividly, and on that account it may be related here. We had camped\nover night near the village of Tell-es-Shihab in Hauran. In the morning\nwe mounted our horses amid a crowd of villagers, and started for the\nvillage. The men protested loudly, and when we told them we were going\nonly to search for inscriptions, they assured us that there were none.\nIn spite of their opposition we rode on, followed by a tumultuous\nchorus. A chance remark led finally to an invitation from the headman of\nthe village to his _menzil_, or reception hall. It was the mention of\nthe name of Dr. Torrance, of the Tiberias Medical Mission, who, on one\nof his journeys, had cured this sheikh of an illness. At the door our\nhost met us, and most courteously invited us to enter, bowing and\ntouching our palms with his. The hall was dark, with the great stone\narch characteristic of Hauran architecture spanning its centre. Smoke\nhad coloured the arch and the rafters a rich dark brown, from whose\nshadow swallows flitted continually out into the sunshine and back\nagain. We were seated on mats, spread with little squares of rich carpet\nround three sides of a hollow place in the floor, where a fire of\ncharcoal burned, surrounded by parrot-beaked coffeepots. This was the\nhearth of hospitality, whose fire is never suffered to go out; near it\nstood the great stone mortar, in which a black slave was crushing\ncoffeebeans. The coffee, deliciously flavoured with some cunning herb or\nother, was passed round. But the conversation which followed was the\nmemorable part of that entertainment. In the shadow at the back the\nyoung men who had been admitted sat in silence. The old men, elders of\nthe village community, sat in a row on stone benches right and left of\nthe door. The sheikh made many apologies for not having called upon us\nat the tents--he had thought we were merchantmen going to buy silk at\nDamascus. Then followed endless over-valuation of each other, and\nflattery concerning our respective parents and relations. \u201cHow long\nwould we stay under his roof? surely at least till to-morrow or next\nday? No, one of us had to catch a steamer at Beyrout? But any steamer\nwould wait for so great a general,\u201d etc. Until finally our leader came\nto the delicate subject of inscriptions, and was made free of the town,\nand immediately guided to the Egyptian slab mentioned on p. 87. It was a\nperfect specimen of intercourse with Arabs, and it dazed us with its\nancient spell. There is no possibility of hurry. You must despatch your\nbusiness by way of a discussion of things in general. Compliments were\nas rife and as conventional as those of Abraham and the children of Heth\nat Kirjath-Arba, and they were received and given without any pretence\nof taking them seriously. The elders sat silently leaning upon their\nstaves, except now and then, when one of them would slowly rise and\nexpatiate upon something the sheikh had said--perhaps about camels or\nthe grain crop--beginning his interruption almost literally in the words\nof Job\u2019s friends:--\u201cHearken to me, I also will shew mine opinion. I will\nanswer also on my part, I also will shew mine opinion.\n\n[Illustration: SITE OF THE ANCIENT CITY OF SAMARIA.\n\nThe remains of the ancient city are on the olive-clad hill to the\nleft.]\n\nFor I am full of matter, the spirit within me constraineth me.\u201d\nAltogether it was a scene of the unadulterated East--just such a scene\nas might have been witnessed any time these three thousand years.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe great memorial of Israel is her religion. To her it was given to\nknow the Eternal God and to pass on that knowledge to all the nations of\nthe world. Among the many impressions given by a journey through\nPalestine, none is so important and none so strong as this, that the\nland was eminently suited for that one purpose and for that alone. She\ntried many similar experiments, but they all failed utterly. The\nluxurious orientalism of Solomon, the democratic revolt of Jeroboam, the\nmilitary ambitions of Baasha, and the attempt at commercial supremacy\nwhich Omri made--each of these was an imitation of one or other of the\ncontemporary nations. For Israel they were alike impossible. Their\nsuccessive failures proclaim her a peculiar people, set in a peculiar\nplace for a peculiar purpose. For them, as Renan says, \u201cto act like\nmen\u201d--_i.e._ like all the rest of the world--was a sort of degradation.\nAll other experiments in greatness failed; their greatness lay solely in\nthe knowledge of the Lord.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nGR\u00c6CO-ROMAN\n\n\nNothing strikes one more than the contrast in Palestine between the\nvanishing of Hebrew buildings and the permanence of Roman ones. You have\ncome here to a land which you know to have been for many years under\nRoman government, but which still to your imagination is Oriental, with\nhere and there a Roman touch. You find, among the very ancient\nbuildings, hardly a remaining trace of anything that is not Roman; and\nof Roman work you find an amount which probably astonishes you. Before\nyou have long left Jaffa, some part or other of one of the old Roman\nroads making for Jerusalem will be seen. Not long afterwards Bether\ncomes in sight--that terrible little valley where the blood ran so deep\nwhen the siege ended and the Jews\u2019 last hope was broken. So you move on\nfrom point to point of Roman story until, as you climb the steep ascent\nfrom the Jordan valley to Gadara, you realise that it was when encamped\njust here that Vespasian heard the news of Nero\u2019s death and was\nproclaimed emperor by his legion.\n\nThe Roman work in Palestine seems to exaggerate its peculiar\ncharacteristics, so that here one notices these more distinctly than in\nany other land. A Roman tower in Switzerland, a Roman road in\nScotland--certainly they are Roman, but they are not removed from all\nthings Swiss or Scotch by so vast an interval as that which divides\nRoman from native work in Palestine. It is indeed an invasion of arms,\nthis Roman life--an intrusion of what is, first and last, alien to the\nspirit of the place. The traveller to-day, to whom the very dust of this\nland is dear, inevitably feels about the Roman relics an air of\nobtrusive and uncomprehending indifference. They \u201ccared for none of\nthese things,\u201d or, if they did care a little now and then and try to\nunderstand, they did it clumsily and unnaturally. Rome\u2019s policy was that\nof wide toleration, but her spirit was absolutely unaccommodating. She\nmight allow her provinces to govern themselves and to worship pretty\nmuch as they chose, but she herself, in her officials and their works,\nstood aloof from them and was Rome still. This is to be seen in\nPalestine in all its good and in all its bad aspects. In those\nsolidly-constructed bridges and mighty aqueducts and imperishable\ncauseways there is the very embodiment of the Roman _virtus_ and\n_gravitas_, that output of manhood which never trifled nor spared\nitself, that solemn, business-like reality which is so full of purpose.\nIn this hard _reality_ of Rome there is not only purpose but\npitilessness of force to accomplish what is planned. Every Roman road\nyou chance upon seems to be feeling its way with an unerring instinct\ntowards Jerusalem or some other goal, and you know that it will arrive.\nJust as impressive, on the other hand, is the sense of Rome\u2019s\nlimitations. Her works disclose her seeing a certain length, and you\nknow beyond all doubt that she will get there. But there are very\nobvious and very clearly defined limits to the length she ever sees or\nwill go. The work of Greece is far beyond the furthest reach of Roman\nwork--the glad spring, the grace of conscious strength that is beautiful\nas well as strong, the restfulness withal of perfect harmony that is\nthinking of more than merely utilitarian values; of these Rome knows not\nthe secret. Beside the flight of Greek art she is pedestrian; to the\nGreek artist she plays at best but the part of Roman artisan. Forceful,\nmassive, successful up to its highest desire, the Roman work is finished\nand perfect. And it has attained finish and perfection on a lower level\nthan that of any nation that ever yet dreamed dreams or \u201clooked beyond\nthe world for truth and beauty.\u201d\n\nNot that there are no other traces of Rome in Syria beyond the stones of\nRoman ruins. In many place-names Latin is discernible, and the country\nis full of inscriptions of all sorts. A still more permanent mark was\nleft by that invasion of Roman spirit which, for a time, claimed Israel\nfor Rome. Rome came to Syria next in succession to the invasion of\nAlexander the Great. After his death the Macedonian power remained in\nthe East, and the seductive spirit of Greek humanism became the rival of\nthe old Puritan Hebraism of the nation. It was this that led to the Wars\nof the Maccabees, who fought for the sterner against the more genial\nspirit. As in the days of English Cromwell, the Puritan was invincible\nwhile he remained true to his faith--that singularly effective blend of\npatriotism with religious belief which has made itself felt in so many\nnational histories. The triumph of Hebraism lasted for about a century,\nand then came Pompey in 63 B.C. to Jerusalem. Hellenism regained its\nascendency and the Greek cities of Palestine their freedom. About a\nquarter of a century later the figure of Herod the Great appears as a\ncritical factor in the history of Palestine. An Idumean and a Sadducee,\nhe had neither patriotism nor religion to check his ambition. The path\nof glory and of easy advancement, then, was by way of Rome, and there\nwas much in Herod that found Rome congenial. As a young man he had made\nhis name by clearing out a notorious band of robbers from the valley\nwhich led down the great road from the Mediterranean to the Sea of\nGalilee at Capernaum. This \u201cVale of Doves\u201d is flanked by precipices\npierced with many caves, in which the robbers lived. Josephus tells us\nhow Herod fell upon the device of letting down cages with the bravest\nof his soldiers. These men, lowered by ropes from the edge of the cliff,\nsprang upon the robbers in their cave\u2019s mouth, and when they retreated\nwithin, smoked them out with fires like vermin. The man who contrived\nand carried out that design was not unworthy of the title \u201cGreat\u201d from\nthe Roman point of view. He became the centre and the champion of the\nnew Hellenism, which was really the worship of Rome, touched as Rome was\nwith the Greek culture she had conquered and envied and sought in vain\nto acquire. Rome was clumsily Greek at this time, and Herod was clumsily\nRoman. Certainly he would have been a Roman if he could. He was prepared\nto go any length to serve his end. At the Banias springs of Jordan he\nbuilt a temple to Augustus. Samaria and C\u00e6sarea, his Roman cities, must\nhave cost him a fabulous sum to build.\n\nOf the actual architectural remains of Rome in Palestine, the smallest\nare perhaps the most impressive. Here and there, from south to north,\nyou come upon tesser\u00e6, the remains of inlaid mosaic floors of the\nancient houses. Sometimes it is single little cubes that turn up among\nthe gravel of the sea-shore or shine from the newly-ploughed furrow. At\nother times broken fragments of a hand-breadth\u2019s size may be found, with\nenough variety of colour to suggest the beginning of a pattern. But here\nand there you may find whole floors of elaborately designed mosaic, with\nconcentric circles of various colour and size, with large-scale\npictures, or, as in one case at least, with an ancient map--one of the\nmost ancient in the world. On many a spot of Palestine you ride over\nground whose stones are capitals of carved pillars, and whose layers of\ncaked earth disclose fragments of ancient mosaic floors.\n\nThe Roman roads are still frequently met with in Palestine, and these,\nperhaps more than any other of their works, help the imagination to\nrealise the old life in its magnificence of power. Whether the causeway\nlies bare to the weather across a mountain, or whether it cuts its track\nalong the sheer cliff of a gorge, there is the same uncompromising\npurpose and capacity in it--the stride of the road, that seems to be\naware of whither it is going and the reason for its going there. In the\ncities of the Decapolis and others there is generally one straight line\nof Roman causeway--the \u201cStreet called Straight,\u201d which is by no means\npeculiar to Damascus. It was a Roman hobby, this of straightness, and\none of the most characteristic of Roman hobbies. The roads went, so far\nas that was possible, up hill and down dale in a direct line from place\nto place; and in the cities at least one columned street did the same.\nThe milestones which may still be found occasionally seem to heighten\nthe human interest, though that is considerably damped when we realise\nthat none of these roads date from the early Roman days in Syria. The\npaths our Saviour walked on were but tracks, not unlike those which\nmodern travellers follow.\n\nBut the bridges are older, and in some places they are used for traffic\nto-day, spanning Jordan and Leontes. There is little causeway at the\nends of them--their one business in these old days was to do the\ndifficult and needful task of crossing water. Once across, the traveller\nmight find his path or make it for himself. Parapets are not provided on\nthe old bridges, and the surface is a flight of broad and shallow steps.\nIf you walk unwarily and are drowned in the torrent below, that is no\nconcern of these resolute but unluxurious bridge-builders. Their\nbusiness is simply to span the stream. So effectively and\nconscientiously have they done this, that even when time and floods have\nbroken the bridge, you may see the half of it still standing: the huge\npier of stone and of mortar almost harder than stone stands at the side,\nand the actual arch is still flung across the water, wedged into an\nalmost unbreakable strength by its keystone, while all the surface\nbuilding above the arch has long been washed away. Such a ruin may be\nseen to-day on the coast some miles to the north of Tyre. It was in her\nfight with water, either for it in aqueducts or against it in quays and\nbridges, that Rome seems to have put out her utmost strength of masonry.\nAlong the coasts both of the Mediterranean and of the Sea of Galilee,\nsubmerged stones and fragments of building may be seen, which bear\ntestimony to this; and at Tariche\u00e6, where a large fish-curing trade had\nto be provided for, there are remains of a dam and quay where Jordan\nswept round in a circle, affording a great length of water-frontage. But\nperhaps the most noticeable monuments of Rome in this dry and thirsty\nland are the\n\n[Illustration: THE FORECOURT OF THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE.]\n\naqueducts, sections of which still stand in many parts. In the\nneighbourhood of Jericho, Laurence Oliphant counted nine different\naqueducts. At Khan Minyeh, believed by some to be the site of Capernaum,\nthere is a bewildering mass of water-building of many sorts. A\nWasserthurm still stands, whose walls are 12 feet in thickness, and in\nall directions water is carried at various levels in channels which run\nalong the top of mighty banks of masonry. Great stone water-pipes, with\nrim and hollow for fitting to the next pipes tightly, lie scattered in\nall directions, peeping up through the long grass and ferns, or hiding\namong the roots of the thorn trees. Elsewhere are to be seen longer\nstretches of aqueduct, whose architects have been able to turn strength\ninto beauty in a very wonderful fashion. Roman building at its best\nrelies on the one principle of constructive truth. It never aims at\nbeing pretty; it never fails in being _right_ for the purpose it is\nmeant to serve. From the point of view of beauty this may often have\nproduced harsh, material, and heavy work--and indeed that is part of\nwhat we have already referred to as the limitation of Roman achievement.\nBut the highest beauty is, after all, a matter far more of truth than of\nornament, and there are many remains of Roman work in which such high\nbeauty has been unconsciously attained. They built to accomplish some\ndefinite practical purpose, and for that end they built thoroughly and\nwell. The result is the beauty which comes like a crown upon honest work\nbeyond the design of the workers--a beauty of wholeness, adequacy,\ntruth, which is perhaps not so far removed from the Hebrew idea of the\n\u201cbeauty of holiness\u201d as careless observers might be disposed to think.\nThis is seen in many a fragment of the Roman aqueducts. These irregular,\nthree-tiered clusters of variously sized and shaped arches, carrying the\nstone or concrete channel across a gorge, have a real beauty of their\nown; and the long stretches of single or double tiers that take up the\nchannel where it emerges from a mountain-tunnel, lead it high and secure\nacross the treacherous ooze of a marsh, throw their level line on high\nbridges over ravines, and at last end in the tumbled ruins of a city\nwhose pools and fountains they filled long ago--these have an\nindisputable beauty of workmanship and design, as well as an infinite\npathos of sentiment.\n\nNext in impressiveness to these monuments are the remains of the Greek\namphitheatres of the Roman period. Whether it be that the massiveness of\nthe stones has been too much for the lazy builders who have constructed\ntheir modern dwellings out of stolen fragments of ruins; or whether, in\nits irony, history has attached to these monuments of Rome\u2019s attempt to\namuse the world some special sacredness, it would be difficult to say.\nCertain it is that these in many places remain, sunk in the natural\nhollow of a hill as in a socket, while all traces of the city which once\nsurrounded them have disappeared. They have been often described, both\nas they are found in Syria and elsewhere; and the stage arrangements,\nthe underground passages, and the whole design of them does not\nmaterially differ from those of other countries. One feature in the\nSyrian theatres appears with special distinctness. When the play was\ngoing on, an awning may be supposed to have been spread horizontally\nover the roof, to shade spectators and actors from the sun. Between the\nedge of this awning and the flat top rim of the stage buildings, there\nwould be a blank space left, as it were, like a framed and draped\npicture. The sites were so chosen that this space was filled up with\nsome commandingly beautiful vista--in the north generally a view of\nHermon. Hauran boasts many such theatres in the cities of the Decapolis.\nIn cities which were first Greek and then Roman, such as these, it may\nbe difficult to determine the exact date of a particular building. If\nthe Romans built these theatres, they closely imitated the older Grecian\nwork. They certainly built the theatre and hippodrome of C\u00e6sarea, in\nwhich latter the goal-post is still to be seen, an immense granite\nstone, which has seen life in its day.\n\nThe theatres have, as a rule, survived the fortresses and the temples.\nRome undertook many things. She would worship, govern, educate, amuse.\nIs it not significant that her wreck looks so like a gigantic\nplayground, as if in those degenerate days of her conquest the Empire\nwas already finding in the motto \u201cil faut s\u2019amuser\u201d her rule of life?\nAfter all, it is his chief interest that is the immortal thing about any\nman or nation. Yet this may be an unjust and fanciful estimate. Relics\nof Roman temples and fortresses also remain. A statue of Jupiter has had\nits resurrection from the sands of Gaza, and a monument in honour of\nJupiter Serapis now bears a Roman inscription near the Zion Gate of\nJerusalem. Near springs and the fountain-heads of rivers especially, the\nruins of Roman shrines to the Genius of the fountain are found, as at\nBanias. Fortresses too, where Roman garrisons used to be located, can\nstill be traced, in a ring or an oblong trail of loose stones. Such\nruins crown the height of Tabor, the summit of Gerizim, and many another\nhill. But these shew little trace of their former meaning. Here and\nthere the acropolis of a Greek or Roman town may retain its ancient\nembankment, built on the steep slope of the hill, as if shoring up the\nplateau above where the temple once stood. Elsewhere, some parts of the\ncurtain wall of a crusader castle may be blocks of Roman fortification\nleft _in situ_. But the greater part of the Roman building must be\nlooked for in the walls of village houses, where the contrast between\nsuch fragments and their surroundings is as grotesque as it is pitiful.\nThe Gadarenes have built into their walls whatever lay nearest them.\nCoffins and tombstones, capitals and columns, even altars themselves,\nare there, \u201cstopping holes to keep the wind away\u201d; it is exactly what\n\u201cimperial C\u00e6sar\u201d has come to in Gadara.\n\nWhen Roman power decayed, the signs of its decadence were manifest in\nthe departure from old severity into an efflorescence of ornament and a\nmagnificence of mere size out of all proportion to the constructive\nmeaning of the work. In Baalbek, Rome has left us a monument of such\ndecadence. The elaborated detail is foreign to the grand simplicity of\nthe old Roman style, and the exaggerated size is but boastfulness. \u201cThe\nRomans had seen the huge Jewish stones at Jerusalem\u201d (as Dr. Merrill\nexplained the matter to us) \u201cand began at Baalbek to work on a bigger\nscale, the Barnums of the ancient world, whose ambition was to run the\nbiggest show on earth. By and by they got tired of that, and left it\noff; it was not their line, after all.\u201d \u201cThe line\u201d of Rome was a very\nstraight and simple one. With immense power and a great and single\npurpose, she went straight forward, and did what she meant to do. Hers\nwas a rough simplicity which never failed. Strange that, with so mighty\na resource, she should have ever gone out of her line to attempt any\nother work than her own! When men or nations discover their limitations,\nand rashly make up their mind no longer to stay within them, their\nambition has already begun to foreshadow their downfall.\n\nThe pathos of seeing anything which evidently was once so competent and\nso strong, now so absolutely dead as Rome is, is heightened almost to\nweeping, in those places where the little and everyday memorials of her\nformer life are commonest. It is not the gigantic monoliths, but the\nlittle tesser\u00e6, not the fallen columns, but the broken jar-handles, that\ntouch the heart most. Between Tyre and Sidon the rider passes over\nfields every stone of which is a fragment of some marble slab or\ncuriously-carved piece of masonry. His horse is overturning the remains\nof Ornithopolis, \u201cthe city of the bird,\u201d in these ploughed fields. But\nit is at Samaria that the emotion is most irresistible. Where the \u201cfat\nvalley\u201d opens to the westward, a conical hill, slightly oval and with\nflattened top now clad with an orchard, nestles in and yet lies apart\nfrom the bend of the mountains of Ephraim. It was this hill that Omri\nbought from Shomer for the heavy price of two talents of silver. It was\nhere that the city rose--the inferior houses (if we may reconstruct the\nprobable past) of white brick, with rafters of sycamore; the grander\nones of hewn stone and cedar--while the royal palace overtopped them\nall. A broad wall with terraced top encircled it, and the city lay\nthere, \u201ca vast luxurious couch, in which its nobles rested securely,\n\u2018propped and cushioned up on both sides as in the cherished corner of a\nrich divan.\u2019\u201d It was Ahab\u2019s capital too, and after the varying fortunes\nof centuries it was granted to Herod the Great by Augustus, who\nimmediately called it by the Greek name of the emperor, Sebaste, and\nproceeded to rebuild it in a style of unheard-of magnificence. A\nhippodrome appeared in the hollow, a temple on the hill. Round the\nsummit he ran a flat terrace with double colonnade of monolithic pillars\nabout 16 feet in height, with palaces and massive gateways. From our\ncamp on the threshing-floor, quite near the circuit of pillars--for many\nof them are still standing, and the bases of almost all may be seen in\nthe ground--we crossed to within the ring of the colonnade. The ground\nwas ploughed here even along the faces of the artificial terrace-banks,\nwhich still preserve their sheer angle, clean and steep as of old. The\nfurrows were literally sown with fragments of broken pottery and\ntesser\u00e6. We crossed to a squared and heavy mass of fallen stones and\ncarved pillars lying slantwise against walls still strong in ruin, which\nbears the name of Herod\u2019s daughter\u2019s palace; and then along the\ncolonnade to the great piles of masonry which guard the gate that looks\ntoward C\u00e6sarea. Two massive towers are there, partly in ruins and soon\nto be wholly so, for the cactus hedge is busy with its roots among the\nstones, and is making its way through cracks to the very heart of the\ntowers. We sat there watching the sun sink into the sea, and thought of\nall those faded splendours and crimes that make this spot so famous\namong the tragic places of the world. It was the home of Jezebel, it was\nthe slaughter-house of Mariamne, both of whom must often have watched\nthe sunset from that gate. The ambitions of the ancient kings, the pride\nand wealth and cruelty of Herod, the beauty and the misery of passionate\nwomen, dead these many centuries--all seemed to people the place with\nghosts, as the twilight deepened. We turned to go back, and found\nourselves accompanied by the man who farms the hill--a tall, friendly,\nand gracious man in long flowing robes. He held the hand of his little\nfive-year-old girl, a dark-eyed, sweet-faced child, dressed in a red\ncloak crossed with blue and yellow stripes. Her hair was short, in\nclustering curls of glossy black, with a blue bead cunningly inwoven\namong them to keep off the evil eye. She had her free hand entwined by\nall its fingers in the wool of a pet lamb, which she steered along\nsideways vigorously. How dead the mighty Herod and all the Roman glory\nseemed in contrast with this simple picture of the eternal life of home!\n\n Where a multitude of men breathed joy and woe\n Long ago;\n Lust of glory pricked their hearts up, dread of shame\n Struck them tame;\n And that glory and that shame alike, the gold\n Bought and sold.\n Now,--the single little turret that remains\n On the plains,\n By the caper over-rooted, by the gourd\n Overscored,\n While the patching houseleek\u2019s head of blossom winks\n Through the chinks--\n Marks the basement whence a tower in ancient time\n Sprang sublime,\n And a burning ring all round, the chariots traced\n As they raced,\n And the monarch and his minions and his dames\n Viewed the games.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Oh heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns!\n Earth\u2019s returns\n For whole centuries of folly, noise and sin!\n Shut them in,\n With their triumphs and their glories and the rest!\n Love is best.[18]\n\nIt is not, however, merely with the chill of that which has been long\ndead that Rome affects us in Syria;\n\n[Illustration: THE ROTUNDA AND CHAPEL OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE.]\n\nit is with the living interest which attaches to all that touched\nChrist, and entered in any way into Christianity. It is a far-reaching\ngeneralisation which reminds us that \u201cthe great civilisations have\nalways risen in the meeting-places of ideas.\u201d[19] Historically it is\ntrue that the times of greatest international struggle have been times\nof heightened vitality, when the mingling nations were ready to receive\nand to impart much, and to send forth a new spirit upon the world.\nNothing could be more providentially apposite, from this point of view,\nthan that Jesus should have been born \u201camid the fever of the\nestablishment of the Roman power in Judea.\u201d He kept aloof, indeed, from\nthe Herodian people who lived delicately in kings\u2019 houses, and from all\nthe Greek and Gr\u00e6co-Roman life of his day. Yet, as Dr. Smith has shown\nus memorably, Jesus was no quiet rustic dreaming dreams and seeing\nvisions far from the life of men. He lived and died in close touch with\nall that Rome, Greece, Egypt, Mesopotamia, Arabia had to show. Not for\nthe first time, nor for the last, did He see, in His temptation, \u201cthe\nkingdoms of the world and the glory of them.\u201d As this realisation\nbecomes more and more distinct, a new force is added to the contention\nthat His Gospel is the Gospel for the world. It was thought out and\nfirst preached amid the throng of commerce, and while the din of battle\nwas as yet hardly silent.\n\nThis contact of Jesus Christ with Rome, which under Paul\u2019s hand was to\nbecome the messenger and instrument of His kingdom, is vividly\nassociated with two hill-tops in Palestine. One of them is that height\nnear Nazareth, some ten minutes distant from the village well, the\ndescription of whose outlook closes the chapter on Galilee in the\n_Historical Geography_ with the well-known passage about the boyhood of\nJesus. There, while He faced seawards, lay on the left hand below Him\nthe wine-coloured, battle-soaked plain of Jezreel, with squadrons of the\nRoman army marching east and west along it; while on the right hand the\nSepphoris Road ran ribbon-like along the ranges, with its constant\nstream of merchandise. The other hill-top is that known as \u201cGordon\u2019s\nCalvary\u201d at Jerusalem--a low and rounded hillock just outside the\nDamascus Gate. If this be indeed the site of Calvary, Christ was\ncrucified on a wedge of ground between a military and a commercial road;\nand \u201cthey that passed by wagging their heads\u201d may have been soldiers\nfrom the Tower as well as merchants from the Northern Gate.\n\nCertain it is, at least, that Rome was about His cradle and His grave.\nThe earliest narratives of His earthly career bring Him to Bethlehem to\na Roman taxation; the latest story delivers Him to a Roman judge, to\nRoman soldiers, and to a Roman cross.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nCHRISTIAN\n\n\nFrom the invasion of warlike Rome we turn to that \u201cPeace and her huge\ninvasion\u201d which came to the Holy Land during the later days of the Roman\nEmpire. Before the time of Constantine the Church in Syria had grown and\nspread with such startling vitality and promise of even more abundant\nlife as to bring down upon her the cruelty of persecutions. In the north\nthe Christian communities were mainly Gentile, in the south Jewish\nChristians. They must have been intellectually as well as spiritually\nvigorous, for the curious speculations and mystic dreams of the Gnostics\nhad already, in the second century, gained footing in Syrian\nChristianity.\n\nWith Constantine (324-337) Roman persecution ceased for ever. The Jews\nwere permitted to return to Jerusalem, and the construction of the\nwritten Talmud began its career of three centuries. Julian, the last\nemperor on the throne before the Empire divided into east and west, had\napostatised from the Christian faith before his ascension, and in 361\nhe attempted the restoration of the temple in Jerusalem as a strength to\nJudaism against Christianity. But the Galilean had conquered, and it was\nthe day of Christ. The recognition of Christianity as the religion of\nthe State began a new era, which ran on for a thousand years in the\nEastern Empire, until the siege of Constantinople changed the face of\nEurope in 1453. The words of Dante will often recur to the student of\nearly Christian days in Palestine:--\n\n Ah! Constantine, what evil came as child\n Not of thy change of creed, but of the dower\n Of which the first rich father thee beguiled.\n\nThe reference is to the legend of \u201cThe Donation of Constantine,\u201d by\nwhich he transferred Rome and the states of the Church to the Papal See.\nChristianity in Syria has run a strange career.\n\nUp to the time of Constantine the Church was at bay, fighting a\ndesperate battle against the Pagan world. At C\u00e6sarea especially, but in\nmany another Roman town besides, native Syrians were forced underground\ninto caves and catacombs, or brought to the death in the public games.\nMany records of this period survive. At Sidon, searching about among the\ntombs which Renan has recently explored, we came upon a broken marble\nslab--evidently the lintel of a church raised in memory of a local\nmassacre of Christians--with the word MARTURION inscribed on it. The\nmartyr monuments of Syria are wonderfully full of peace, hope, and\nassurance. Like Marius the Epicurean you feel, when first you come upon\nthem, that for the first time you are seeing the wonderful spectacle of\n_those who believe_. You understand his impression of every form of\nhuman sorrow assuaged--desire, and the fulfilment of desire working on\nthe very faces of the aged, and the young men obviously persons who had\nfaced life and were glad. And the same wistful sense of a sure word of\nrevelation comes upon the beholder as that which appealed to him. Surely\nhere the earth was for once not forsaken of the higher powers, but\nvisited and spoken to and loved!\n\nAfter Constantine the pilgrim takes the place of foremost interest,\nwhich the martyr previously held. From 451, when an independent\npatriarchate was established at Jerusalem, pilgrimages became very\nfrequent; and a century later there were hospices with 3000 beds in them\nwithin Jerusalem, while trade of many sorts flourished by their aid. In\nthe oldest itineraries there are very curious accounts of these\npilgrimages; but two, which Colonel Conder gives, are especially quaint\nand interesting. They refer to later pilgrimages, but are appropriate\nenough to earlier ones. The first one is from Saewulf, giving an account\nof his landing at Jaffa: \u201cFrom his sins, or from the badness of the\nship,\u201d he was almost wrecked, and his companions were drowned before his\neyes. The other is Sir John Maundeville\u2019s--most fascinating, if most\nunscrupulous, of travellers: \u201cTwo miles from Jerusalem is Mount Joy, a\nvery fair and delicious place. There Samuel the prophet lies in a fair\ntomb; and it is called Mount Joy because it gives joy to pilgrims\u2019\nhearts, for from that place men first see Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nFrom the first, pilgrimage seems to have had its moral disadvantages and\nspecial temptations. The Turkish proverb runs, \u201cIf your friend has made\nthe pilgrimage once, distrust him--if he has made the pilgrimage twice,\ncut him dead.\u201d And it would seem that the Christian pilgrim is not\naltogether in a position to throw stones at his Moslem brother. Apart\nfrom any sins to which the freedom of travel in a far land may be\nsupposed to tempt poor human nature, there are some which are _par\nexcellence_ pilgrim sins. Thus we find in the seventeenth century the\nArmenian patriarch complaining that the seat in the Chapel of St. Helena\nin which he used to sit had been so hacked to pieces by relic-hunting\npilgrims that he was \u201cfrequently obliged to renew it.\u201d The case was all\nthe harder because it was not from its association with the patriarch,\nbut because St. Helena had sat in it, that it was so much in request! If\nMark Twain be a true reporter, there are pilgrims who have inherited\nthat particular kind of moral frailty with remarkable fidelity to the\nmanners of their predecessors. Then again, the pilgrimages, which\neverywhere stimulated trade, created an amazing amount of fraud in the\nsale of false relics and other such traffic. Dr. Conan Doyle\u2019s picture\nof the pilgrim in France, who takes a nail from the box of a blacksmith\nand sells it to unsuspecting soldiers as one of those which were driven\ninto the wood of the true Cross, is drawn from the life. Even on the\nsacred spots themselves the simplicity of pilgrims has always been a\ntemptation to custodians. A tale is told of some one who, only a year or\ntwo ago, dropped by accident a Bible down the dry shaft of Jacob\u2019s Well.\nThe Bible was reclaimed within a few days, but when brought up it was a\nmere mass of pulp. A large party of pilgrims had visited the place in\nthe interval, and had professed a strong desire to drink water from the\nfamous well. A small stream, conveniently diverted to the well mouth,\nhad enabled the priest in charge to gratify their desire by draughts of\nwater drawn from the depths before their eyes.\n\nThe pilgrim is still extant. For well-nigh two thousand years he has\ncome and gone, a tourist who has always had an immense commercial value\nfor the Holy Land. The levy made on pilgrims at the gate of Jerusalem\nwas one of the principal causes of the Crusades, and it is hardly more\nthan a hundred years since a heavy tax was imposed upon every pilgrim\nwhen he reached the gate of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The\ngreater part of those who come now are Russians. Jaffa is full of them,\nbut they are to be seen in long caravans of pedestrians, with a donkey\nor two bearing all their scanty luggage, as far north as Samaria and\nGalilee. The men are typical Russian peasants, in the blouses and caps\nthat are so familiar. Their long hair may be fair or dark, but it is\nalways matted and coarse. The women, with their good, weather-beaten\nfaces, are uncommonly like old-fashioned peasant women from the northern\nScottish countrysides. Their head-dress is a simple kerchief, and their\nhands grasp a rude pilgrim staff polished with much wear. The privations\nof such pilgrimages must be very great. They involve the expenditure of\na lifetime\u2019s savings, and a journey in many cases of at least six\nmonths. Most of this is done on foot, and largely by people who are\ngrowing old. There is no nation that could send forth such multitudes\nexcept \u201crough but believing Russia.\u201d The belief is everything. They are\nvery poor people, and very ignorant and simple. Yet many whose minds\u2019\nconflict seems only to grow sterner in this land of contradictions, may\nown without shame to a touch of something like envy as they see the\nexaltation of their childish faith. They encompass the walls of\nJerusalem to the strains of Psalms, and march triumphantly to the sand\nsouth of Jaffa for shells to authenticate their travels, such as those\nwhich appear on the coats-of-arms of some European families, telling of\nformer pilgrimages. Mere children in intellect, the gleam in their eyes\ntells that in their own pathetic way they have entered here into a\nveritable kingdom of heaven.\n\nThe objects of pilgrimage are somewhat gruesome in\n\n[Illustration: THE DOME OF THE ROCK (MOSQUE OF OMAR), AS SEEN FROM THE\nPORCH ON THE NORTH SIDE OF THE MOSQUE EL AKSA.]\n\ntheir way. A favourite ambition used to be that of measuring the \u201cstone\nof anointing\u201d in the Holy Sepulchre, in order to have the pilgrim\u2019s own\nwinding-sheet made the same length. The great goal, however, is the\nJordan, whose banks at the period after Constantine used to be paved\nwith marble. In the old time a wooden cross was erected in mid-stream,\nand the waters were blessed by a priest, after which the pilgrims\ntumbled in with such haste that numbers of them were drowned. Here, too,\nthe winding-sheet is in evidence. Besides the flask of Jordan water\nwhich they fill, they dip their own winding-sheets and those of friends\nat home who have been unable to come in person, but have sent these pale\nsubstitutes. It was not our good fortune to see the merry band of\npilgrims at the Jordan, though we met scattered groups of Russians in\nmany places. One other pilgrim we saw, and he accompanied us through\nseveral days\u2019 march northward. He was a jet-black Abyssinian--a lonely\nand silent figure clad from head to foot in a loose robe of pure white\nsackcloth. He went with us to Nazareth, the destination of his\npilgrimage. His only word in common with us was \u201cChristianus,\u201d and he\nalways bowed and crossed himself when he said it. All day long he walked\nin silence in our company. He asked for nothing, but ate the meat he\nreceived in singleness of heart, and sat apart watching the loading and\nunloading of the baggage with the eyes of a great child.\n\nWhile so many Christians paid a passing visit to Palestine in the early\ndays, there were some who came to stay. It was the time of the rise of\nmonastic institutions, which first appear in the beginning of the fourth\ncentury. Their history from the first is peculiarly associated with\nSyria, into which they spread almost immediately after their start in\nEgypt. Some of the most famous of the early recluses, including even St.\nSymeon Stylites himself, were of Syrian origin.[20] These ascetics were\nthe natural successors of the martyrs. The first hints of them are given\nduring the time of earlier martyrdoms, for it is recorded that\nChristians as early as the Decian persecutions fled to the wilderness\nand led a life there which was soon to become popular beyond all\npossibility of forecast.\n\nIt was not, however, until Constantine\u2019s favour had secularised the\nChurch, or at least had made easy that life which hitherto had been so\ndangerous, that the reaction set in which gave monasticism its great\nhold on the world. This is generally explained as a matter solely of\nprotest against growing worldliness, or a development of that curious\nkind of \u201cother-worldliness\u201d which finds in asceticism the surest means\nof attaining earthly fame and heavenly reward. No doubt both these\nelements are true. In the early ascetics there was a self-denial\nprompted by the purest desire for escape from the defiling society of\ntheir time into the spiritual cleanness of the faith, and from its hard\nand coarse materialism into the delicate ideality and refinement of\nChristian thought and feeling. It was also, on the other hand, a refuge\nand an outlet for much of the inefficiency and moral worthlessness of\nthe time, which found in its freedom from social restraint and its wide\nleisure things exactly to their own taste. But behind all this there is\nanother fact which is really the most significant of all. Monasticism\nwas \u201cthe compensation for martyrdom.\u201d Readers of the letters of Ignatius\nare familiar with that mania for martyrdom which during persecuting\ntimes took possession of so many in the Church. In abnormal and extreme\nconditions such as these, certain minds grow hysterical and lose their\nperspective and sense of proportion altogether. In such minds a morbid\nand passionate delight in pain develops into a sort of lust--a\n_religiosa cupiditas_--for suffering torture, just as in the persecutors\ncruelty becomes a lust for inflicting it. So asceticism offered itself\nwhen martyrdom could no longer be had--\u201ca voluntary martyrdom, a gradual\nself-destruction, a sort of religious suicide.\u201d[21]\n\nThe new ideal passed through several successive phases. From an\nunorganised and individual way of life within the Church, it developed\nfirst into anchoretism about the beginning of the fourth century. In\nbarren and solitary places, where life at best was precarious and\nphysical enjoyment impossible, every cave and den had its tenant. On\nMount Sinai one hermit is said to have lived for fifty years in absolute\nsolitude, silence, and nakedness. As you ride down the terrific gorges\nfrom Mar Saba to the Dead Sea, you pass along precipitous hillsides and\nrock-faces which appear literally riddled with small caves and holes in\nthe rock and sand. These, which now serve for a covert from the heat for\npassing shepherds, or for the lairs of jackals, were once populated by\nhermits. Saint Saba is said to have collected the bones of no fewer than\n10,000 solitary dwellers in this district, who had fallen victims to the\nCarismians. And in many parts of Syria even now, a hillside which during\nthe day has seemed barren of all human habitation, is unexpectedly\nilluminated with hermits\u2019 lights--those \u201chands praying to God\u201d--in the\ndark. The enthusiasm with which this dreary life has filled some of its\ndevotees may be realised in the following lines from an epistle of St.\nJerome:--\u201cO desert, where the flowers of Christ are blooming! O\nsolitude, where the stones for the new Jerusalem are prepared! O\nretreat, which rejoices in the friendship of God! What doest thou in the\nworld, my brother, with thy soul greater than the world? How long wilt\nthou remain in the shadow of roofs, and in the smoky dungeon of cities?\nBelieve me, I see here more of the light.\u201d[22]\n\nIt was in cloister life, however--at first in smaller communities and\nthen on the large scale of many cloisters gathered under a common\nrule--that early Christianity reached its full development. Besides the\nnative establishments, there was, in the first centuries after\nConstantine, a cloud of religieux, flying like homing doves across the\nsea to alight and quietly settle down on holy soil. These\nestablishments had many faults. They perpetuated little sectarian\ndifferences and exaggerated them into quite ridiculous importance. The\nvery lamps that hang in the oldest churches are denominational, and are\ndivided with a childish arithmetic among rival sects. The insistence of\nthese on their respective rights is such that a guard of armed Moslem\nsoldiers has to be kept perpetually on the spot to keep the peace. Yet\nthere is a splendid dash of courage in this part of Church History,\nwhich cannot possibly have been all in vain. It must have been an\nexciting life in some of the outpost stations in these old days. \u201cIt is\ntrue,\u201d says Warburton of one monastery, \u201cthe monks were occasionally\nmassacred by the Saracens, Turks, and Carismians, but their martyrdom\nonly gave fresh interest to the spot in the eyes of their successors.\u201d\nNo doubt these establishments drained the world of some of its best\nmanhood, and diverted much greatly needed energy from family life and\nstate loyalties; yet, on the other hand, these were the soldiers of the\nCross who then fought the paganism of the world and conquered it.\n\nMonastic establishments still remain, and supply much-needed inns to\nmany thousands of poor travellers in Syria. They vary by very wide\ndegrees of difference from one another. By far the worst place we saw in\nPalestine--one of the worst perhaps that could be seen anywhere--is the\nconvent of Mar Saba near the Dead Sea. Coming out on the high ridge of\nthe Judean mountain country, we caught a glimpse of two towers, which\nwe have already described,[23] square and blind, and so pitilessly\nunsuggestive that they seemed, as it were, built into the desert, or\npart of its fantastic offspring. They were the most unhomely buildings\nwe had ever seen, and they are the nearest point to which women are\nallowed to approach the monastery, lady travellers being accommodated\nwith cells there if they have not tents. By and by we passed between\nthem, down a road so steep as to be practically a stairway, on every\nstep of which loathsomely dirty beggars sat plying their trade. In the\ncourtyard to which this entrance led were two monks, fat and\nstupid-looking, who brought out strings of beads, rosaries, and crosses\nof their own manufacture for sale. Having, apparently, absolutely\nnothing to do, the making of these things may be taken for sign of\nenterprise and commercial genius, but as time is evidently valueless,\nthey sell their work very cheap. To the right is a rock, hollowed out\ninto a chamber or broad gallery, which is sacred as having been the\nshrine of Saint Saba\u2019s devotions. The entrance is violently coloured in\nwashes of blue and white paint, so crude and aggressive that it quite\nrobs the pictures in the interior of their horror, and prepares you to\nlook with unclouded eye upon the skulls which fill the grilled recesses.\nOne of these skulls is set in front, to receive the kisses of devout\npilgrims. It is deeply worn and polished. When it has actually been worn\nthrough to a hole it will be replaced, as others have been before it.\nAcross the courtyard you follow narrow stairs and galleries that run\nirregularly along the edge of a precipice; for the monastery has affixed\nitself to the face of a cliff four hundred feet high. It clings there,\nsupported by huge flying buttresses that spring from the depths below in\na fashion which, as one writer says, remind you of pictures of\nBelshazzar\u2019s feast. The cells of the monks, little disconnected\n\u201clean-to\u201d sheds or caves, have the Greek cross upon their doors, and the\noften-repeated inscription, \u201cO Christ, abide with us!\u201d Here and there\nare a few plants in pots, or a feeble attempt at rearing vegetables in\nlittle garden patches which fill in any foot of level among the\nmany-cornered buildings; while in one cranny grows the solitary\ndate-palm which Saint Saba planted more than 1300 years ago. At every\nfew yards you pause to look over a low balustrade into the gorge, which\nhere is a sort of yellow-ochre gulf, with all the horror but none of the\nrich depth of colouring that belongs to frightful abysses. Over these\nwalls the monks throw meat to the jackals which come and fight for it\nbelow. Occasionally, as we passed, a face was visible at a window,\ngenerally either wizened and dried up, or with a white, neurotic\nappearance that was almost more repulsive. Everywhere dirt reigned\nsupreme--unspeakable filth in open drains and putrid litter. In one\nplace, where the smell was sickening, a monk was lying asleep by the\nside of a broken drain, covered with flies in great black masses on his\nface and arms. In another place an abominable-looking dish of food,\nfly-blown and disgusting, was pushed with a spoon in it half through a\nhole broken in the bottom of a cell door. And everywhere throughout this\npalace of disgust was to be read the prayer, \u201cO Christ, abide with us!\u201d\n\nThat was the worst. Mar Saba is a sort of combination of prison and\nasylum, where lunatics are kept under the charge of monks condemned to\nthis place for heresy or immorality. Other monasteries we saw, of a very\ndifferent kind. Our tents precluded the necessity for our making any of\nthese our home for the night, but in many cases it would have been very\npleasant to do so. On the top of Tabor, at Tell Hum on the Sea of\nGalilee, and in other places, we were received and entertained with the\nmost cordial and generous hospitality. The clean and spacious\nguest-chambers are open to all comers. They are adorned with photographs\nof various sorts, and often contain a cabinet of rare local curiosities.\nThe brothers in charge of these establishments were fine genial men,\ncourageously facing the risks of fever in deadly spots, or varying their\nhospitable labours on the heights by long seasons of study (for some of\nthem are distinguished scholars); but always ready to meet a stranger as\na friend, and to chat with him in French or German, over a pipe of\nWestern tobacco, about the great world from which they had gone so far.\n\nIn all these ways the many-sided life of the old Christian days lingers\nand may still be seen. But it\n\n[Illustration: THE DOME OF THE ROCK (MOSQUE OF OMAR).\n\n From the barracks near the site of the Tower of Antonia. The north\n porch of the Dome of the Rock is towards the spectator; to the left\n is the Dome of the Chain; to the right, in the middle distance, is\n the Mosque of El Aksa.\n]\n\nlingers more impressively in the most ancient of the churches which date\nfrom this period. There is in Palestine an astonishing number of ruins\nof old Christian churches, many of them dating back, at least so far as\ntheir foundations go, to the Byzantine period. There are many modern\nchurches, but they are not as a rule impressive. Even when, as in the\nRussian church at Gethsemane, the building is in itself rich and costly,\nit is so irrelevant as to rouse a feeling of rebellion.\n\nMost of the ancient churches have utterly vanished, like that roofless\nbasilica which Constantine built on the supposed scene of the Ascension\non the Mount of Olives. In other cases they are mere heaps of ruin, like\nthe remaining fragments of the Church of Jacob\u2019s Well, which was built\nabout the middle of the fourth century, and has been several times\nrebuilt since then. This church takes most travellers by surprise. They\ngo expecting an out-door scene, with all the harvest breeze of the\nScripture story on it. They find a newly built white wall, glaring in\nthe sunshine. Through a gate in this wall they are admitted by certain\nbroken-down-looking persons in the greenish-black garments of the Greek\nclergy. Within the gate, a few steps bring them to the edge of a sort of\noblong pit full of masonry. It is the nave of the old church, and the\nsplendidly carved pillars of its white stone show how beautiful it must\nhave been. A door in the sunk side-wall opens upon a groined vault newly\nrebuilt. In the dim light you can discern in the centre a rough stone\naltar, with candles and lamps and a couple of execrable pictures of\nChrist and the woman of Sychar. On the ground before the altar is a flat\nstone perforated with a hole two feet in diameter. This is the cover of\nthe well, and a second clerical person, badly marked with smallpox, lets\ndown a twist of lighted candles by a long rope, while a little green\nlamp of silver hangs above, dripping oil steadily down the well. Surely\nthis is the infatuation of reverence! If there is any memory of Jesus\nwhich is essentially of the open air, it is this incident of the Well of\nSamaria. Yet reverence must build its dark chamber, and proceed to\nilluminate with candles the spot where Jesus sat and saw the miles and\nmiles of waving fields, white already to harvest. No doubt the church\ndates from the fourth century; but what right had even the ancients to\nbuild a church here, to keep men busy with their sectarianism on the\nvery spot where they and all the world were told that the hour was come\nwhen neither in this mountain nor yet at Jerusalem would the Father be\nworshipped, but in spirit and in truth?\n\nThere are, however, two great churches of this ancient time which waken\nfeelings very different from these; they have been for centuries the\ncentres of Christian interest and devotion in the land, covering, as\nthey are supposed to do, the sites of the birth and death of Jesus\nChrist. In some respects they are alike. The outsides of them are\nhuddled and packed together, a heterogeneous mass of apparently\nunrelated buildings. The insides are not, like the houses, Rembrandt\nstudies in intense light and shadow. By some skilful arrangement, the\nsunlight seems to be caught and diffused in a pale luminous twilight\nthat sinks gradually to darkness in chapels and recesses, and blends\nwith the light of many lamps and candles not unpleasingly. The Church of\nthe Holy Sepulchre is the gift of St. Helena, mother of Constantine, and\nwas consecrated by her in A.D. 336. Tradition relates how, at the age of\nseventy-nine, she made her pilgrimage to Jerusalem, was baptized in\nJordan, discovered the true Cross, and built the church upon the spot of\nits discovery. Our guide-book tells us of an ante-chamber \u201cwhere\nOriental Christians are in the habit of removing their shoes, though we\nneed not follow their example.\u201d Yet the Crusaders entered it barefooted,\nthough with songs of praise, a thousand years ago; and the impulse of\nmost Christians, however little they may be disposed to believe in the\nidentity of the sacred sites within, will be to share the veneration of\nthe Easterns. Not that what we see now is the original building. That\nwas a rotunda and a basilica, the former quite other than the present\nrotunda, as we know from the fact that it formed the model for the\nMosque of Omar. It has suffered many things from assault, from decay,\nfrom fire, and from rebuilding. In the twelfth century the whole group\nof detached shrines and monuments was included for the first time in one\nhuge and complicated building. Probably no such patchwork in stone is to\nbe seen elsewhere in the world. Yet each rebuilding found many of the\nolder materials ready for its use, and incorporated them in the newer\nwork. Thus the columns at the eastern door are supposed to have come\nfrom some ancient pagan temple, and the present foundations of the\npillars belong to the old rotunda. The capitals of many pillars are\nByzantine, while the pink limestone column which is embedded in the wall\nto the right of the eastern entrance is also very ancient.\n\nIt is a strange conglomeration of imaginary associations and real value\nof material. The atmosphere is at times dreadful enough within to\njustify that daring little touch of realism in the French bas-relief\nover the door, where some of the spectators at the raising of Lazarus\nare holding their noses with their hands! The chapel of the Empress\nadjoins the altar of the Penitent Thief; Adam and Abraham jostle each\nother for standing ground under the sacred roof; the stone of anointing\nhas been \u201coften changed\u201d according to the guide-book, and the column of\nscourging \u201cjudging from the narratives of different pilgrims, must\nfrequently have changed its colour and its size\u201d--yet pilgrims poke a\nstick at it and kiss the part that has touched the stone to-day. Every\nincident of the world\u2019s great tragedy is commemorated there, from the\nfootprint of Jesus to the silver socket in the rock where His Cross was\nerected. Futile enough all this, and even wearisome. But the worship of\nfifteen hundred years is neither futile nor wearisome. And that worship\nseems to detach itself from the legends and find its embodiment in the\nmarvels of precious stone that are gathered there. As one sees the slabs\nof costly stone with which the rock is overlaid--the ruddy yellow slab\nof the \u201canointing,\u201d the red and white polished limestone of the central\nshrine, the green serpentine and the black basalt--one remembers the\ntomb which the Roman bishop ordered in St. Praxed\u2019s, with its\n\u201cpeach-blossom marble,\u201d its lump of _lapis lazuli_, \u201cblue as a vein o\u2019er\nthe Madonna\u2019s breast,\u201d and its block of jasper, \u201cpure green as a\npistachio-nut.\u201d But there is a difference. The stones of the Holy\nSepulchre were given in love: they are the tribute of many souls whose\nadoration was the noblest feature of their times.\n\nThe Church of the Holy Nativity at Bethlehem is a simpler and, to many\nminds, a more impressive structure. It consists of a broad nave,\nentirely screened off from what lies beyond, with two rounded transepts\nand a rounded apse behind the screen--this trefoil-shaped inner building\nbeing the church proper. One of the transepts is the property of the\nArmenians; the other, together with the great altar in the apse, belongs\nto the Greeks. Below the great altar-rail (\u201cin the breast of God,\u201d in\nDante\u2019s language) is the cave of the Nativity, with steps leading down\nto it from either transept. A Mohammedan soldier stands at the bottom to\nkeep the peace between Christians. The transepts and apse are ablaze\nwith lamps and hangings. Below, the \u201cmanger\u201d is overlaid with coloured\nmarble, and the rock is entirely covered with yellow silk cloth, on\nwhich are stamped the insignia of the Franciscans--an arm of Christ\ncrossed with an arm of St. Francis, both shewing the print of nails in\nthe palms of their hands. All this, and the air of raree-show that\nexhibits so many spots where somebody or other stood, destroy any\nlingering credulity of which a man may still find himself capable; they\nmake one rather ashamed, and glad to escape. But the nave is mighty in\nits simplicity, and no less mighty in its wealth of historical\nassociation. It is a great severe oblong basilica, with four rows of\nmassive pillars giving double aisles. Old glass and old mosaics add\ntheir appropriate wealth of sombre beauty. The rafters, replacing\nConstantine\u2019s beams of cedar from Lebanon, are the gift of Philip of\nBurgundy. Lead for the roof was sent by Edward IV. of England. Most\nimpressive of all is the old plain font of polished stone, with its\nGreek inscription--not, like so many such inscriptions, a record of the\ndonor\u2019s name, but a prayer for God\u2019s blessing upon those who gave\nit--\u201cwhose names are known to Thee only.\u201d Opinions differ as to the\nplausibility of the claim to the site of our Lord\u2019s nativity; but this\nchurch was built by Constantine, and the Vulgate was written in it by\nJerome. And since that time the feet of countless millions of\nworshippers have trodden its stone pavement--a consecration in itself\nworth many traditional sanctities.\n\nIn this chapter we have sought to gather the most obvious survivals of\nthat old Christian invasion of Palestine which followed next after the\nRoman. Almost inevitably we find ourselves quarrelling with the\nlegendary lore that has stultified so many venerable buildings and\nassociations. Yet in its legends too the early Church survives, and some\nof them embody eternal truths in forms of rare beauty. Take three of the\nlegends of the Holy Sepulchre by way of example. They show the spot\nwhere the one-eyed soldier Longinus, who pierced the side of Christ,\nreceived back the lost eyesight at the touch of a drop of the blood.\nThere, too, is the cleft in the rock through which blood flowed from the\nCross down into the tomb of Adam, whose corpse came to life at once. And\nthere, on Easter Eve, the sham miracle of the \u201cHoly Fire\u201d has been\nenacted annually for at least a thousand years. Who can miss the\nunderlying truth beneath these legends? They are, for all but the\nignorant and the gross, symbols of the eternal healing and quickening\npower that the love and sacrifice of Christ exert on humanity and even\non His enemies. The torch-bearers, who kindle their fires at the blaze\non Easter Eve, and speed thence to Bethlehem and other towns to light\nfrom it the candles waiting on many altars, tell their own exhilarating\nlesson. Two other legends may be mentioned, which the Western world owes\nto the Syrian Church--those of St. George and St. Christopher. St.\nGeorge, who was a Roman soldier under Diocletian, was martyred in A.D.\n303. His memory, mixed up with the Greek myth of Perseus and Andromeda,\nand with Crusader stories of Richard C\u0153ur de Lion, stands for the\nvictory of faith over paganism. St. Christopher would only follow the\nstrongest, and finding that his master the devil was afraid of Christ,\nrenounced his service and set out to seek Him who was strongest of all.\nThe point of the story is that, after seeking Christ far and wide, he\nfound Him while he was performing the humble task of carrying passengers\nacross a river. It is characteristic of the pilgrim point of view that\nlegend has fixed this scene not by some homely German stream but at the\nfords of Jordan, where he is said to have carried the infant Christ\nacross upon his shoulder. Even of such legends no wise man will speak\nwith scorn. They, too, are monuments of that conquest of Christ which\ngives its meaning and its glory to the Christian invasion.\n\n[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE MOSQUE OF EL AKSA, FROM THE SOUTH-EAST.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nMOSLEM\n\n\nMohammedanism is the religion which is everywhere in evidence in the\nEast to-day. From the smart Turkish officer who drops in to smoke a\ncigarette with you in the tent after dinner, and discusses European\npolitics in excellent French, down to the beggar who beseeches you in\nthe name of Allah for a pipeful of tobacco or the end of your cigar,\nyour acquaintance in Syria is Moslem. From the consecration of the\nChurch of the Holy Sepulchre to the Moslem capture of Jerusalem was\nexactly three hundred years. When, in 637, Jerusalem fell, Damascus had\nalready fallen, and Antioch was to follow next year--all within sixteen\nyears of the beginning of the Mohammedan era. The conquest was\ninevitable. First Persia and then the scattered tribes of pagan Arabs\nhad proved too much for the Byzantine empire in Syria. Then the man\nappeared who understood his opportunity. The Eastern world was in\nconfusion. Heathens constituted the ruling race, the Jews were scattered\nin their dispersion, and the Christians torn into many fragmentary\nheretical sects. It was the moment for a great union of scattered\nforces. The Arabs were united by the new faith in God, for which they\nabandoned their paganism with a marvellous willingness. The bond of\nunion with Christians and Jews was the common ancestry in Abraham by\nwhich Mohammed hoped to rally and unite the Syrian world. One sharp\nbattle at the Yarmuk threw Syria open to his advance, and the crisis of\nthe faith was past.\n\nMohammed has been declared an impostor, who from first to last won his\nway by cleverness without faith; he has been idealised as a hero and\nprince of heroes in the religious world. Dean Milman, perhaps, is wisest\nwhen he says, \u201cTo the question whether Mohammed was hero, sage,\nimpostor, or fanatic ... the best reply is the reverential phrase of\nIslam: \u2018God knows.\u2019\u201d One thing is certain, viz., that he founded a\nreligion which proved itself capable of wakening response from the\nSemitic East with a swiftness and a completeness never elsewhere known.\nIt would be a matter of rather serious consequences to affirm that such\nsweeping success is possible without any vestige of honest faith on the\npart of its own prophet.\n\nArabia found Islam a religion after her own heart. The conquest of the\nArabian mind, and that sudden transference of religious and political\nloyalties which changed it from chaos into cosmos, is little short of\nmiraculous. In the words of one of the severest critics of Islam: \u201cIn\nA.D. 570, Abdullah, the son of Abd el Muttalib, a Mecca merchant, went\non a trading trip from Mecca to Medina and died there; the same year his\nwife, Amina, gave birth to a boy, named Mohammed, at Mecca. One hundred\nyears later the name of this Arab lad, joined to that of the Almighty,\nwas called out from ten thousand mosques five times daily, from Muscat\nto Morocco, and his new religion was sweeping everything before it in\nthree continents.\u201d[24] In many ways the new religion was congenial to\nArabia. \u201cAlthough it made a most vigorous effort to conquer the world,\nit is, after all, a religion of the desert, of the tent, and the\ncaravan, and is confined to nomad and savage or half-civilised nations,\nchiefly Arabs, Persians, and Turks. It never made an impression on\nEurope except by brute force; it is only encamped, not really\ndomesticated, in Constantinople, and when it must withdraw from Europe\nit will leave no trace behind.\u201d[25] It gave the heathen Arabs, in\nexchange for their precarious dependence on incalculable and wayward\ngods, the sublime conception of \u201cIslam,\u201d the absolute surrender to the\nOne God, whom it declared to be Almighty, All-Wise, and All-Merciful.\nFor the rest, its secret was simplicity. It drove straight for its\nobject, sacrificing art, appetite, the purity of home life, the\nspirituality of religious imagination, and some of the accepted\nmoralities of conscience. What was left was a creed and standard,\nsomewhat impoverished truly, but workable and uncompromising. A thousand\ndifficult questions were avoided, and one of those forces set in play\nbefore whose rough simplicity finer and more delicate things are swept\naway.\n\nMohammedanism meets the traveller at every turn in Syria. Now and then a\ndervish is encountered--the extremest sort of Moslem. It would seem\ndifficult to develop a mystic school within the pale of so clear-cut a\nfaith as Mohammedanism; yet it has been done. But the Mohammedan\ndervishes escape from this despised material world by the vulgar process\nof hypnotising themselves by the repetition of the word \u201cAllah\u201d or \u201cHu,\u201d\nor by whirling in circles until they are stupefied. This they call the\necstatic state, and when they have reached it they are said to perform\nmany violent tricks, stabbing their flesh or eating broken glass,\nwithout appearing to feel pain. In Syria they are by no means impressive\nin appearance. Here and there you meet one, with hair crimped in long\nthin pointed wisps, and sticking out in a wiry fashion from his head in\nall directions. The dazed and rather weak look in the eyes is suggestive\nof a strayed reveller rather than a holy man, but the people hold them\nin great reverence.\n\nAnother occasional freak of Mohammedanism is the religious procession,\nwhich is conducted on the principle of a rival show to the Christian\nf\u00eates. It starts on Good Friday from Jerusalem to visit the tomb of\nMoses--a late fiction, somewhat daring in its contradiction to the old\nbelief that the tomb of Moses was known to no man. It is amusingly\ndescribed by witnesses, but appears to be rather a poor affair on the\nwhole.\n\nThese extravagances apart, one is never out of sight of Mohammedan\nreligion for an hour of travel in Syria. The worship, like old idolatry,\nseems to have claimed every high hill and every green tree for its own.\nIt has settled itself, in the very seat of old Judaism, on the sacred\narea of the temple. Almost every one of the prominent hills of Palestine\nis crowned with a little building, domed and whitewashed, opening in a\nporch in front, and containing a single empty chamber. This is the weli\n(_i.e._ monument, not necessarily tomb) of a Mohammedan saint. What the\nterms of canonisation may be, it is perhaps best not to inquire too\nminutely. Many of these departed saints are said to have been prophets,\nbut the discoverer of coffee has his monument in Mocha, to which great\nprocessions come, and there is more than one weli in Palestine\ncommemorative of a dead robber chief. Not the less sacred are they to\nthe Mohammedans. In various parts of the country we were puzzled by\nlittle piles of stones, gathered and arranged in considerable numbers on\nthe tops of long ascents or passes, and bearing a curious resemblance to\nthe cairns which in certain districts of the west of Scotland mark the\nspots at which funeral processions have halted to change the\ncoffin-bearers. The explanation of these little piles is very simple.\nWhen a Mohammedan comes to the hill-top, and looking around him sees a\nweli shining in the distance, he offers up a prayer, and drops a stone\nthere, to call the attention of the next comer, that he also may look\nand pray. Very picturesque and quaint these little holy houses are;\nserving, like the hermit\u2019s tower of old in Western lands, for landmarks\nas well as for shrines--the white light-houses of the inland.\n\nIt is not at the white tombs only that the Moslem prays. Five times a\nday, at the call from the mosque, he is summoned to his devotions.\nOften, indeed, it is inconvenient to worship at some of these hours, and\nit is permissible to say the prayer five times in succession in the\nevening, when there is most leisure. Sometimes he carries with him his\nrosary, to help his memory with the ninety-nine beautiful names of\nAllah, and in railway trains or steamers wealthy gentlemen are to be\nseen cherishing a string of amber beads which appear more like the\nproperty of young girls than of grown men. To perform his devotions the\nSyrian goes to a fountain, when that is possible, as it is part of the\nritual to wash the hands before praying; but the Arab, spreading his\ncarpet in the shade of his camel, far away upon the desert, where no\nwater is to be had but the precious drops in his leathern bottle, is\npermitted to wash his hands and lips with sand instead. That which\nimpresses every spectator is the extraordinary faculty for abstraction\nwhich is manifested. The Moslem seems to have at command the power of\nannihilating the world around him, and entering the unseen. His eyes are\nopen, but you may pass within a yard of them and they will not seem to\nsee you. They are fixed on the far distance, as if, over the Southern\nedge of the world, the man saw the Holy City towards which he bows, with\nits Kaaba and its black stone. He might be crystal-gazing, or watching\nthe horizon for a sail at sea. People may be dancing and singing by his\nside, but he does not see them nor hear. Bathing once in the waters of\nElisha\u2019s fountain at Jericho we had a memorable instance of this. We\nfound the pool empty and the walls undergoing repair. A lad who had\ncharge of the place was persuaded in the usual fashion to let down the\ndoor of a sluice and so allow the pool to fill, greatly to the detriment\nof the newly mortared wall. When we had stripped, the owner of the place\nappeared, and we rose to the surface from a dive to hear a controversy\ngoing on, with violent gesture and apoplectic fury, which marks a high\npoint in our register of vituperation. The water seemed on the whole to\nbe the safest place, and we kept to it until suddenly we perceived that\na great silence had fallen on the landscape. Looking anxiously to see\nwhat had happened, we found the owner on his knees, praying by his own\nspring. We dressed without delay, and had to pass in front of him to\nreach the tents, but he never seemed to know that we had passed.\n\nThe muezzin, or call to prayer from the minaret, is one of the most\naffecting of all Eastern sounds. Men are chosen for this office with\nsingularly mellow and rich voices; they intone, with a very musical\nlittle cadence in a minor key, the first chapter of the Koran, and\nsometimes other prayers. At the great Mosque of Damascus, a solitary\nreciter calls from the slender minaret, and is answered from the balcony\nof the broader one across the court by twenty voices in unison. While\nthe waves of rich sound float out over the city, and are caught and\nfaintly echoed from scores of other minarets, one remembers how that\nvoice has rolled forth already over innumerable villages from Bengal\nwestwards, and men have paused from their labour to pray according to\ntheir lights.\n\nIslam is usually supposed to have been the \u201cIshmaelite in church\nhistory,\u201d with hand against every man from the first. Really, when it\nwas Arabian, as it remained for four centuries, it was very tolerant,\nand the Christian pilgrims, priests, and monks were little disturbed.\nBut in 1086 the Seljuk chiefs of wandering Turkish tribes came into\npossession, and the days of suspicion and that heavy cruelty which is\ncharacteristic of the stupid began. There were massacres of monks on\nCarmel and elsewhere then, and such a state of general tyranny and\noppression that the cry reached the West, and the Crusades began. The\nCrusades, as they dragged their slow length along, did not tend to\nbetter understandings; and after Saladin\u2019s conquest of Jerusalem, we\nread that the walls and pavement of the Mosque of Omar had to be\npurified with copious showers of water distilled from the fragrant roses\nof Damascus. The relations between Moslem and Christian in the land\nto-day are happier, and the intercourse of increasing trade and travel\nis breaking down old partitions here as elsewhere. Yet little love is\nlost between the professors of the rival faiths even now. Dr. Andrew\nThomson relates how, in recent years, \u201cit had been observed that at a\nparticular period of the day the shadow of the great Mosque of Omar fell\nupon a certain Christian burying-ground. Even the honour of\n\n[Illustration: THE TEMPLE AREA AND THE MOUNT OF OLIVES, FROM MOUNT ZION.\n\n The dome on the right is that of the Mosque of El Aksa, and that on\n the left is the Mosque of Omar. Between these domes, and just below\n the principal group of cypresses, is the \u201cWailing Place.\u201d The hills\n in the background are the Mount of Olives.\n]\n\nblessing conveyed by so sacred a shadow was grudged. The public\nauthorities in Jerusalem were strongly urged to have the Christian\ncemetery removed to some more distant place, and it required all the\ncombined influence of the European consulates to prevent a scandalous\norder to this effect from being issued.\u201d The Ordnance Survey party was\non several occasions attacked, and even fired upon. In fanatical Moslem\ncities like Hebron and Nablus, travellers have to conduct themselves\nwith the utmost discretion, and even then will probably be stoned with\nmore or less effect according to the courage and the marksmanship of the\nthrower. The Christians return the animosity with a kind of impatient\nridicule, which seems to indicate a lack of refined piety on their part.\nOur camp-waiters were Christians, and they used to give us very freely\ntheir opinions on the theological differences between them and the\nMohammedans. There would be a reverent if somewhat startling account of\nthe Holy Trinity, and then, in scornful contrast: \u201cMohammedans only\nOne,--and Mohammed all the rest!\u201d The scorn is hardly to be wondered at\nwhen one remembers the intellectual level of the powers that be. This is\nforced upon one\u2019s notice by countless tales of the custom-house and\ncensorship officials. A map of ancient Palestine was objected to because\n\u201cthere were no maps in those days!\u201d An engineer, telegraphing about a\npump, was arrested because the message read: \u201cOne hundred revolutions!\u201d\nIn certain Bibles the text was erased, \u201cJesus Christ came into the world\nto save sinners\u201d; and it was directed that the word \u201cChristians\u201d should\nbe substituted, as there were no sinners in the Turkish empire! After a\ncertain amount of that regime, one would no doubt put new meaning into\nthe prayer which invokes God\u2019s mercy \u201cupon all Turks,\u201d as well as on\ninfidels and heretics!\n\nIn spite of all this there is a good deal of interchange between the two\nfaiths, or at least of borrowing on the part of Islam from Christian\ntradition. So many points have the two in common, that a theory has been\nbroached on which Mohammed appears only as the Judaiser (as it were) of\nlater days, who saw the difficulty that Christians had in working with\ngeneral principles, and set himself to simplify the situation by\nreducing Christianity to a stereotyped system. Carlyle distinctly calls\nIslam \u201ca kind of Christianity.\u201d However this may be, there is no\nquestion as to the immense amount which Syrian Mohammedanism borrows\nfrom the Jewish and Christian Scriptures. Countless tombs and other\nmonuments are dedicated to Joshua and other Old Testament worthies.\nThis, of course, may be due to the fact that many Moslem saints have\nborne the old names, and as time went on their memories came to be\nconfused with those of their more famous namesakes. Samson\u2019s exploits\nespecially have appealed to the Mohammedan imagination, and he appears\nunder the _incognito_ of \u201cIsm\u00e2n Aly,\u201d among many other names. St. George\nis a very popular saint for Moslem worship. It startles us still more to\nfind that in the great fire at Damascus numbers of Moslems threw\nthemselves into the flames in the attempt to rescue the head of John\nthe Baptist; while a copy of the Koran--one of the original four\ncopies--which lay below the relic, was forgotten and destroyed.\n\nThe most extensive and curious point of contact between the two\nreligions is found in those mosques which were formerly built as\nChristian churches, and then appropriated by the conquerors. The Grand\nMosque of Damascus is a conspicuous case in point. It is built on the\nsite of a pagan temple, part of whose hoary front still stands, a\nmagnificent fragment of ancient heavy masonry and carving now brown and\ngrey with age. On the ruins of the temple rose the Christian church of\nSt. John the Baptist, whose date is about the beginning of the fifth\ncentury. After the Mohammedan conquest the church became a mosque, and\nfabulous sums were spent on its decoration. It has twice been destroyed\nby fire, and is now being restored after the last of these\ndestructions.[26] The restoration has a very brand-new appearance, yet\nit is magnificent with its wealth of marble and of other costly stone.\nThe Mosque of Samaria, conspicuous from a distance by its minaret is\nanother Christian church reconstructed for Mohammedan worship. There was\na sixth-century basilica here, but the present mosque is built out of\nthe material of the Crusader church which replaced that. The severity\nand bareness of its stone walls and pillars are relieved only by one\ntouch of colour--the flags and the lovely green pillars of the pulpit.\nThe wall at the pulpit\u2019s side has been recessed into a mihrab or niche,\nwhich points towards Mecca and so gives the worshipper his bearings. In\nthe crypt, where the Crusaders believed they had the tomb of John the\nBaptist, large slabs of polished marble attest the former wealth of\ndecoration, and these slabs are of peculiar interest because of one\ncurious little fact. It was customary to carve on Christian buildings\nthe sign of the Cross--a Maltese cross, set within a circle. Such a\ncross may be distinctly seen on one of the stones close to the embedded\npillar at the south door of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. On the\nmarble slabs of the crypt in Samaria these encircled crosses are to be\nseen; but the Mohammedans have chipped away the uprights of them,\nleaving only the meaningless horizontal bar bisecting the circle, and\nthe obvious mark of the chisel in their rough workmanship leaves the\nuprights also faintly visible. Perhaps the most interesting case of all\nis the Mosque el Aksa, close to the Mosque of Omar, within the temple\narea. This is that \u201cfar-off place of prayer\u201d which Mohammed counted\namong the most holy shrines in the world. Founded by Justinian as a\nChristian basilica, it was converted into a mosque by Omar, and adorned\nwith unheard-of lavishness by Abd el Melik, who overlaid its doors with\ngold and silver plates. Since then it has passed through many\nadventures. Widened to efface some suggestion of cruciform shape, its\nbreadth became unmanageable, and six rows of pillars support the roof.\nThe roof has fallen in, and earthquakes have broken the building more\nthan once, so that most of the masonry is comparatively modern, the\ngreat arches of the structure which supports the dome being \u201canchored\u201d\nby wooden beams which throw horizontal bridges from capital to capital\nin Arab fashion. The green-and-gold mosaic with which the interior of\nthe dome and the upper portion of the adjacent masonry is covered,\ncannot be very old, though their dim and antique beauty is worthy of the\nolder art. The pulpit, richly inlaid with Aleppo work of ivory and\nmother-of-pearl, was Saladin\u2019s gift seven hundred years ago. But that\nwhich most of all attracts the eye and fascinates the imagination is the\naspect of the pillars, whose variegated colours are peculiarly rich and\nharmonious. Up to a certain height they are polished to the shining\npoint by the garments of worshippers rubbing against them as they pass;\nabove that they are smooth, unpolished stone. The capitals, and some at\nleast of the columns, are very ancient, and may have stood in the\noriginal basilica.\n\nThe Mosque of Omar is not, strictly speaking, a mosque at all. The\nmosque is El Aksa, and the more famous building is but a glorified\npraying-station of the nature of a weli in its court. It stands near the\ncentre of a wide open space, practically the only such space in\nJerusalem, which occupies one-sixth part of the whole area of the city\nwithin the walls. The enclosure is partly artificial, supported on vast\nsubstructures of vaulted building which raise the enclosed ground to a\ngeneral level. The mosque is set up on a platform ten feet higher than\nthis level.\n\nIts history has been a strange one. Behind the time of its erection lies\nall the story of the Temple, whose sacred ark Jewish tradition affirms\nto have been concealed here by Jeremiah. But that rock, whose red\noutcrop breaks through the floor of the mosque, leads us back to a\ndimmer past, and to the story of Abraham\u2019s sacrifice upon Moriah, whose\nsite this is said to be. Various theories have been advocated as to the\nplace which the rock held in the arrangements of the Jewish temple. The\nJews of to-day have a legend that on it somewhere the Unspeakable Name\nis written, and they explain the miracles of Jesus by the supposition\nthat He had succeeded in deciphering it. We, too, for whom its chief\ninterest and pathos lie in the fact that Christ came hither to worship,\nand in the things that befell Him here, may accept the meaning at least\nof that curious legend. For His own words were that He had declared to\nmen the name of His Father, and that declaration has truly revealed to\nmankind the hidden meaning of their holiest things.\n\nIt was in 680 A.D. that the first Mohammedan sanctuary was erected on\nthe temple area, but the date of the present building is two hundred\nyears later. It struck us as a curious fact a year ago in Damascus that\nthe burnt mosque was being rebuilt almost entirely by Christian masons.\nStill more surprising is it to learn that the Mosque of Omar was built\nby Byzantine architects and modelled on the Rotunda of the Holy\nSepulchre. Two hundred years later the Crusaders entered Jerusalem, and,\naccording to the dreadful story, \u201cthe carnage in the Mosque of Omar\nswept away the bodies of thousands in a deluge of human blood.\u201d[27]\nMistaking the Mosque for the veritable Temple of Solomon, they founded\nthere the Society of the Knights Templars, on whose armorial bearings\nthe dome appears. They converted the building into \u201cTemplum Domini,\u201d and\nplanted a large gilded cross upon the summit of it. Traces of their\ninvasion still remain in the cutting of the rock to suit their altar,\nand in the great wrought-iron enclosing screen. For almost a century the\nTemplum Domini remained in Christian hands, until 1187, when Saladin\nconquered Jerusalem. His generosity and gentleness contrasted strangely\nwith the \u201cloathsome triumph\u201d of the Crusaders; but the first destination\nof the triumphal march was the mosque, from whose dome the Cross was\nhurled to the ground, and for two days dragged about the streets. From\nthat time the mosque has been one of the most exclusive places in the\nworld. Till recent years no Christian was permitted to enter it, and\nJews avoid it, lest they should unwittingly tread upon the ground of the\nancient Holy of Holies.\n\nThe first impressions of the Mosque of Omar are very pleasing. There is\na barbaric splendour in its rich colouring and metallic glitter when\nseen from a short distance, while the more distant view of it is one of\nrare soft beauty. Its wide courts, too, give it a fresh and open-air\ncharacter which is very refreshing after the stifling dark heat and\ncloseness of the Holy Sepulchre. Above all it impresses one with its\ngrand simplicity. The sharp-edge angles of the octagon are taken in at\na glance; the rock within is bare rock, and infinitely more impressive\nthan the silk and marble in which rock masquerades at Bethlehem. The\ngreat number of its pillars, screens, reading-stands, and other\nfurniture, leaves little open room, and it feels rather a crowded than a\nspacious place for worship. Yet, on the other hand, you are not wearied\nwith the complex symbolism of many of the ancient churches. The meaning\nof this may be poorer, but at least it is plain. This means just a\nperfectly shapely and highly coloured octagon, where men have worshipped\nGod for a thousand years in the least complicated way in which worship\nhas been done. Thus the mosque is typical of the faith and the policy\nthat created it. \u201cI do not believe,\u201d says Disraeli\u2019s _Tancred_, \u201cthat\nanything great is ever effected by management.... You require something\nmore vigorous and more simple.... You must act like Moses and Mohammed.\u201d\n\nOn the other hand, the enthusiasm for Mohammedan simplicity is sorely\ntried when the first moment of almost awestruck feeling ends with the\nadvance of the guide. He is to shew you the wonders of the mosque, and\nthe torrent of mingled absurdity and superstition by which you find\nyourself swept on is very trying to the would-be admirer of the faith\nand its monument. First of all, there are the relics--the footprint of\nMohammed, and the hairs of his beard; the praying-places of Abraham and\nElijah and other \u201cvery fine, high-class people,\u201d as our dragoman\ndescribed\n\n[Illustration: THE WEST SIDE OF THE TEMPLE AREA.\n\n From the barracks near the site of the Tower of Antonia. Above the\n domed building in the right foreground rises Mount Zion. The rosy\n hills to the left are the mountains of Judea.\n]\n\nthem to us; the round hole where the rock let Mohammed through when he\nascended to heaven, the hollow place in the roof of the cavern where it\nrose to let him stand erect to pray, the tongue with which it spoke, and\nthe mark of the angel Gabriel\u2019s finger when it had to be held down from\nfollowing him in his ascension. Still more disenchanting is the knot of\nunderground superstitions that desecrate the holy place, and rob it of\nits freshness and healthy simplicity, like snakes in the garden. The\nwild imagination of the East has pictured to itself the regions which\nlie underneath this sanctuary in its own grim way. In spite of a very\nobvious pillar, and a bit of white-washed wall to be seen in the cavern,\nthe rock is supposed to hover unsupported over the abyss. Beneath is\n\u201cthe well of souls,\u201d where the dead assemble twice weekly to pray. Some\nthink of these departed ones as those who wait for the Resurrection, but\na darker fancy holds that the gates of hell are here. The worshipper\nfeels the souls of the dead flitting about him, and prays with the cries\nof the lost in his ears. Even the open spaces of the court are haunted\nby unclean legends, and seem to be heavy with the odour of graveyard\nmould. Here, at St. George\u2019s dome, with the two red granite pillars in\nfront of it, is the place where Solomon tormented the demons; there, by\nthe eastern wall, is the throne whereon he sat when dead, the corpse\nleaning on his staff to cheat them, until worms gnawed the staff\nthrough, the body fell forward, and the demons found out the trick.\n\nIn common decency, any place that lays claim to sacredness must have\nsomething to say to worshippers regarding conduct; but the ethics of the\nMosque of Omar are a match for its impostures, alike in gruesomeness and\nin impudence. They are all of the nature of magic tests, by which souls\nare to be tried for their eternal fate. The little arcades at the top of\nthe steps of the platform are called \u201cBalances\u201d because the scales of\njudgment are to be suspended there on the Great Day. The Dome of the\nChain owes its name to the circumstance that there a golden chain hung\nat David\u2019s place of judgment, which had to be grasped by witnesses and\ndropped a link when a lie was told. A place in the outer wall is shown\nfrom which a wire will be suspended on the Day of Judgment, whose other\nend will be made fast on the Mount of Olives. Christ will sit on the\nwall and Mohammed on the mount. Over this wire must all men find their\nway, but only the good will cross, the wicked falling into the valley\nbeneath. In the El Aksa Mosque a couple of pillars stand very near each\nother, so worn that they are perceptibly thinned. The space between them\nbulges, in which a piece of spiked iron-work is now inserted. These were\nanother test for the final award--he who could squeeze himself through\nthe aperture, and he alone, had found the true \u201cnarrow way\u201d to heaven.\n\nFrauds such as these force upon every visitor the question how far the\nMohammedans themselves believe them. The utter want of earnestness, or\nanything that to a Western mind bears the resemblance of reality, is\npainfully evident in the attendants who guide you through the mosque.\nYou are forced to respect its sacredness by purchasing the loan of\nslippers to cover your boots, and you feel rather like one entering a\ncircus than a place of worship, when you have been transformed into an\nilluminated caricature by means of one yellow and another red slipper.\nYour guide, who wears the appearance of a convict in clericals, greatly\nenjoys your picturesqueness, and makes haste to conduct you to a certain\njasper slab into which Mohammed drove nineteen nails of gold (which\nlook, however, indistinguishable from iron). A nail comes out at the end\nof every epoch, and when all are gone the end of the world will come.\nOne day the devil destroyed all but three and a half of them, when the\nAngel Gabriel, caught napping for once, stopped the mischief just in\ntime. Here you are invited to lay any coins you may chance to have about\nyou, and assured that if the coin be silver you will save your soul by\ngiving it. As the coins are tabled, the whole body of assistant clergy\nassembles to count the collection.\n\nAll this, and much else, is but the inevitable outcome of a worship that\ngathers round a stone. It is a petrified worship, hard and dead as its\nsacred rock. Nothing could be more pathetic than a window in El Aksa\nalmost darkened with little rags of clothing hung there by poor folk who\ncome to pray for their sick friends. If Syrian Christianity is corrupt,\nit is at least not so pitiless as Syrian Mohammedanism. The very aspect\nand situation of the rival shrines is symbolic. The mosque does not\nreally love men, whether it really believes in God or not. It sits apart\nin its wide enclosure, while the Church of the Sepulchre is huddled\nindistinguishably into the thickest pressure of the life of men and\nwomen in the city. The church seems, by its rugged and broken outline,\nto sympathise with the shattered fortunes of the life around it; it is\ngrey and ruinous-looking, as if it had borne man\u2019s sorrows and carried\nthem. The mosque, with all its beauty, seems to sit there like some\ngreat sleek sphinx, watching everything, but sharing little and loving\nnone of the misery around it. In this city of ruins there is something\nrepellent about its smooth and self-complacent finish. No, the mosque\ndoes not really love men; whether it really believes in itself and its\nmiracles or not is another of the many Mohammedan things which God only\nknows.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nCRUSADER\n\n\nTo tell even in barest outline the long story of the Crusades would be a\ntask as impossible as it would be thankless. The magic of Sir Walter\nScott\u2019s _Talisman_ is happily not yet dead, and in some degree the\nCrusader still lives as an actual and human figure in our imagination.\nMany Christians who had come as pilgrims had settled in the land as its\ninhabitants, and for four centuries after the Arabian conquest these\ncontinued both their trade and their worship under the tolerably mild\nMohammedan rule. In the eleventh century all was changed by the Saracen\ninvasion. Pilgrims were extortionately taxed at the gates of Jerusalem;\ntheir lives were imperilled, their persons and their devotions insulted.\nThe old commerce, which had grown to considerable proportions, was\nruined, and pilgrimage, from being a lucrative and pleasant service,\nbecame an almost certain martyrdom.\n\nIt was this state of affairs which sent Peter the Hermit through Europe\non his great campaign in 1093, and those extraordinary wars that raged\nin Syria through two centuries bore the complex character of the\nmotives which had prompted them. From the departure of that motley\nrabble which followed the Hermit to the East in the first Crusade, down\nto the pitiful expedition of French children who started 30,000 strong\nfrom Vend\u00f4me in 1212, there stretches perhaps the most picturesque\nperiod in all history.[28]\n\nThe mass of paradox and contradiction which that period presents is no\nless striking. It was an invasion by the West, whose purpose was to\nrehabilitate an Eastern faith. It was a religious war carried on by the\njealousies and ambitions of rival nations. It was the occasion of some\nof the most statesmanlike government that the world has seen, and it was\naccompanied from first to last by frequent outbursts of treachery,\nmassacre, and lust. It was the most airy dream and at the same time the\nmost effective practical force of its time. It was the expression of the\nmost ascetic severity and the most reckless luxury. Utterly futile,\ncommercially and socially disastrous, often wholly irreligious, it was\nyet everywhere a massive and purposeful conception, in which the\ndetermination and forcefulness of the West thrust their iron wedge clean\nto the centre of this sleepy land. Its high idealism, curiously alloyed\nwith grosser elements both sensual and brutal, was yet able to preserve\nthrough all the genuine spiritual fire of chivalry and of faith.\n\nOur task is simply to ascertain what all this stands for in the history\nof Palestine, and what it has left behind it there as its memorial. In\ntwo words, it stands for the contact of the East and West, and for their\nseparateness. Into Europe the Crusades brought much from the East. It\nwas due to them more than to all other causes that there was so immense\nan increase of Eastern merchandise in Western markets--not of Jerusalem\nrelics only, but of Damascus ware and of Persian and even Indian produce\nfrom beyond the great rivers. Their influence on architecture, too, is a\nwell-known fact of Western history. The Mosque of Omar rose on at least\nthree European sites, and the plan of many another piece of Byzantine\nbuilding and Arabesque decoration was brought home by the Crusaders from\nthe wars. Into the East, again, the Crusades brought much from the West.\nFrom north to south of Palestine one meets with the remains and\nmemorials of that invasion. Theirs are the footprints most visible\nthroughout the land. Everything in Syria has felt the touch of them and\nretained its mark. At every turn one finds something recognisable and\nhomely to Western ears and eyes--the name of a castle, the chiselling of\na stone, the moulding of metal--they are strangely familiar as they are\nmet so far away from home. Yet they survive as wreckage, and as wreckage\nonly. He who hopes to westernise the East is attempting a task in which\nall must fail, whether they be soldiers or priests, missionaries or\nstatesmen. The ancient Eastern life has long ago flowed back over the\nrelics of the Western occupation of Syria.\n\nThe surviving traces are of many kinds. There are the descendants of\nCrusaders, sprung of intermarriages with Eastern women, and still\npreserving a distinctively European type in little suggestive details of\nfeature or of hair. Names such as Belfort, Belvoir, Mirabel,\nBlanchegarde, or Sinjil (St. Giles), coming without apology next to the\nHebrew and Arabic names of villages in Palestine, strike one with very\nmuch the same shock as old Scottish place-names do, alternating with\nincorporated aboriginal ones, on the railway stations of the Australian\nbush. Relics like the sword and spurs of Godfrey de Bouillon may, like\nmost other relics, be discounted, but not so the wonderful masonry of\ncastles and of churches which everywhere overawes the man accustomed to\nmodern walls. Winding our way with tight rein along the narrow and\ncrooked streets of Tyre, we suddenly plunged into the darkness and foul\nair of the Bazaar. At the other end of it, emerging under a Gothic\narchway, we found ourselves in the courtyard of a khan, a very dirty and\nunpleasant place. Seeing nothing but unclean stables, we imagined that\nour horses were to be put up here and perhaps fed, and we pitied them.\nThen, to our astonishment, we discovered that this was the old Crusader\nChurch, where these broken and discoloured arches had once echoed the\nhymns and prayers of European chivalry; and that somewhere among them\nlay the bones of the great emperor so famous in\n\n[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE.]\n\nhistory and legend--\u201cDer alte Barbarossa, der Kaiser Friederich.\u201d Not\nless affecting in its way was the discovery of a little patch of\nsnapdragon flowers on the ruined walls of Belfort Castle. We were\ninformed that the plant is not elsewhere found in Syria, and the\nlikelihood is that some Crusader\u2019s lady brought it from the garden of a\nfar-off French or English home.\n\nThe Crusader was at once the dreamer, the worshipper, and the fighter of\nthe Middle Age. The knight was not indeed the sort of man whom at first\nsight we would suspect of dreaming. Could we see him riding down the\nstreet to-day, we should probably be reminded of some village blacksmith\non a Clydesdale horse. Yet he had been dreaming dreams and seeing\nvisions. He was a gentleman and a man of feeling, though he had his own\nrough ways of shewing it. Part of what had set him dreaming was the\ninstinct of travel and the literature of travel which in those days was\nso quaint and picturesque. No doubt this travel literature was largely\ndue to pilgrims, but there were others then who could play no tune but\n\u201cOver the hills and far away.\u201d Travellers\u2019 half-remembered and\nexaggerated adventures conspired with the fantastic imaginings of the\nuntravelled rustic to create that magic land beyond the horizon where\ngiants, monsters, and devils had their home. All the wistfulness, the\ndream, and the desire of the ancient days are there. The chroniclers of\nthe time before the Norman Conquest are the most fascinating of\ngeographers, and the singers of Arthurian romance in the later days of\nthe Crusades arrived at a geography which was an utter bewilderment,\nthe result of ages of vague travel and rumours from the Syrian seat of\nwar. Babylon and Wales and places with names wholly unpronounceable are\nin sublime confusion, and the geography in general is that of\nThackeray\u2019s Little Billee, who saw from his mast-head \u201cJerusalem and\nMadagascar and South Amerikee.\u201d\n\nJerusalem always came first. \u201cThe Crusades,\u201d as Sidonia says in\n_Tancred_, \u201crenovated the spiritual hold which Asia has always had upon\nthe North.\u201d The spell of the East had come upon the West, and in that\nthere lay a reason for the Crusades deeper than any commercial or even\nmilitary attraction. The West was waiting for it. Behind the British men\nof the twelfth century lay a heredity of patriotic legend connected\nlargely with the battle of Christianity against Paganism under Arthur.\nThere lay the foundation of much that was best in the crusading\nenthusiasm. On their own soil they had followed the King and fought\nunder him for Christ. But to satisfy the hearts of these rough men it\nneeded more than all such practical life could yield them, even when\nthat life was so exciting as it was then. There is an infinite pathos in\nthe dream that was coming to clearness through those years. Discontented\nwith the glories even of Arthur\u2019s court, longing for a spiritual\nsomething which might give to chivalry its finest meaning, they sought\nthe Holy Grail. Until, well on in the twelfth century, the shadowy\nfigures of Walter Map and Robert de Borron formulate the romance,[29]\nwe see it growing out of old pagan legends baptized by Christian\nmissionaries and blended with Bible stories. It emerges at last in the\nromances of the French Trouv\u00e8res, the summit and flower of all past\nidealisms, the spiritual secret and gist of life, and the chief end of\nnoble men. This is all well known to those who interest themselves in\nthat spiritual search which is the main business of choice souls in all\nages, and which in that age took literary form in the Grail Quest. But\nto us it is specially interesting to note that the century whose later\nyears received the Trouv\u00e8re legend from Chr\u00e9tien de Troyes began with an\nevent but for which that legend would never have assumed the form in\nwhich it appeared. In 1101 C\u00e6ssarea was besieged and taken by Baldwin I.\n\u201cIt yielded a rich booty. Among other prizes was found a hexagonal vase\nof green crystal, supposed to have been used at the administration of\nthe sacrament, and now preserved in Paris. This vase plays an important\npart in medi\u00e6val poetry as the Holy Grail.\u201d The visionary aspect of the\nCrusades is that which continually obtrudes itself as one reads their\nhistory. Tasso\u2019s _Gerusalemme Liberata_ is full of it. Even so rough and\nboisterous a hero as Richard is obviously a dreamer also. Nothing in all\nthis history is more striking than that fateful day when, after marching\nto within seven leagues of Jerusalem, Richard commanded his army to\nhalt, and courted their murmurs during a month\u2019s unaccountable\ninaction. Performing unheard-of feats of valour in minor sallies, he\ncould only weep when he beheld the towers of the Holy City, and after\nrouting Saladin\u2019s army in a great battle at Joppa, negotiated a truce\nand wandered off to shipwreck and imprisonment, commending the Holy Land\nto God, and praying that it might be granted him to return again and\nrecover it.[30]\n\nAs worshippers, the Crusaders are famous figures in the Holy Land. It is\nhard to reconcile the tales of wild debauchery which followed almost all\ntheir victories, with the obviously genuine religious enthusiasm that\nswept the hosts down weeping on their knees when they caught first sight\nof Jerusalem. Yet the worship was sincere, and there were pure and\ngentle spirits among them whom victory did not demoralise. They are\nalways, indeed, armed worshippers--at first a religious soldiery,\nafterwards a military priesthood, as Stebbing puts it. This composite\ncharacter is well brought out in the two orders of knights, the\nHospitallers and the Templars. The former, working for the sick in the\nHoly City, wore a black robe with a white cross upon the breast of it,\nbut when there was fighting to be done they covered this with a surcoat\nof scarlet on which a silver cross was embroidered. They lived simply,\ncontenting themselves with such lodging and fare as were offered them,\nand they were bound to keep themselves provided with a light which must\nalways be kept burning while they slept. The Templars pledged\nthemselves in even stricter vows, and were warrior-priests in the most\nliteral sense of the term. On the summit of Mount Tabor there is the\nruin of a Crusader church, whose broken walls still enclose the sacred\nspace where once men worshipped. Spacious and strongly built, the ruin\nhas a severe grandeur of its own. In the chancel an altar has been\nrebuilt, and an upturned Corinthian capital set upon it, in the centre\nof which is fixed a heavy iron cross. That iron cross seems to sum up in\nits grave symbolism the very spirit of the Crusades. Many of their\nchurches were reconstructions of older Christian edifices, and most of\nthem have been transmuted into mosques, so that their ecclesiastical\narchitecture still remaining is as composite as their character and\ntheir enterprise. Yet enough remains of what is distinctively their own\nto show at once the massive strength and the decorative beauty of their\nbuildings. Its strength is that of men who were accustomed to build\nfortresses; the buttressed walls are of immense thickness, and the\nmortar is sometimes harder than the stone. Its beauty has been defaced\nby the mutilation of much fine work, but from what is left we know how\nwell they carved; and there is a certain high solemnity about their\narches and columns which tells of men whose minds were large, strong,\nand real.\n\nOne curious fact, to which Conder often directs attention, is constantly\nperplexing the traveller. Their identifications of sacred sites are\nthose of men whose enthusiasm far exceeded their knowledge. Had they\ntaken time to consult the Scriptures, or to read them with any\nthoughtfulness, countless errors would have been avoided. But the\nsoldier instinct is very far from the critical, and they were impatient\nto find the sites they wished to see. Anything was sufficient for a\nclue. The name Jibrin suggested \u201cGabriel,\u201d and a great church arose in\nhonour of the Archangel. Athlit was near the sea-shore, and the\nCrusaders who lived there found Tyre and Capernaum in its immediate\nneighbourhood. For reasons equally cogent, Shiloh was brought within a\nmile or two of Jerusalem, Shechem became Sychar, and the heights of Ebal\nand Gerizim were recognised as the Dan and Bethel of Jeroboam\u2019s calves.\nMost curious of all, the little hill of Jebel Duhy, on whose summit you\nlook down across the valley from the top of Tabor, was named Hermon, for\nno other reason than that a psalm places the two together in its promise\nthat \u201cTabor and Hermon shall rejoice in Thy name.\u201d Altogether, these\nworshippers were in too great haste. \u201cCrusading topography is more\nremarkable than reliable.\u201d\n\nGreat as the Crusaders were in dream and in worship, it is their\nfighting that remains for ever most impressive and most characteristic.\nOf no men in history is the verse truer, in spite of all their\nextravagances--\n\n Know that the men of great renown\n Were men of simple needs:\n Bare to the Lord they laid them down\n And slept on mighty deeds.\n\nLooked at from a distance, the Crusades very generally wear the aspect\nof a stream of vivid colour--a spectacular progress of Europe through a\ncorner of Asia, whose main feature is its brilliant picturesqueness. On\nthe spot the quality in them which is by far the most impressive is\ntheir stern reality and fighting weight. The Crusader was doubtless one\nwho in his time played many parts, but whatever else he was, no one who\nhas seen the remains of his work will question that he was at least \u201ca\nfirst-class fighting man.\u201d The figure of Richard, as it is preserved for\nus in the records of the older historians, may be more or less\napocryphal, but it is at least true enough to crusading ideals, which\nmust have found many an actual realisation in these strong and fearless\nsoldiers of the Cross. We read of amazing captures of booty; of single\ncombats in which \u201cthe King at one blow severs the head, right shoulder\nand arm of his opponent from the rest of his body\u201d; of a conflict in\nwhich only one Christian perished, while \u201cthe Turks lost seven hundred\nmen and above fifteen hundred horses.\u201d At Joppa the king leaps out of\nhis ship before it can reach land, and rushes on the enemy. Three days\nlater he and his knights are surprised and have to fight half-naked,\nsome in their shirts and some even barefoot; yet they win. At another\ntime we see Richard plunging alone into the midst of the hostile army,\nand fighting until Saladin\u2019s brother sends him a gift of two Arab\nwar-horses to enable him to fight it out. Altogether such a hero was he,\nthat the Moslems asserted \u201cthat even the horses bristled their manes at\nthe name of Richard.\u201d No wonder if in the popular imagination he became\nfor England hardly distinguishable from that St. George who had already\nbeen identified with Perseus, who on these same sands had fought the\ndragon for Andromeda.\n\nThe grandeur of crusading warfare lingers in the mighty ruins of their\ncastles. Nothing could surpass the impressiveness of these castles, seen\non hill-tops from below, combing the sky with the sharp broken teeth of\ntheir ruined towers, or rearing a black \u201cmailed head of menace\u201d against\nthe stars. Many of them are on the sites of older fortresses, and\nactually stand on Jewish or Roman foundations. By far the most imposing\nof such castles is that of Banias, which crowns that spur of Hermon at\nwhich \u201cDan leaped from Bashan\u201d long ago. It must have been capable of\nquartering a small army, and the quantity of broken vessels confirms the\nimpression. Cisterns, vaulted and groined archways, mosaic floors,\ndungeons, and every other luxury of their European homes had been\nimported hither.\n\nThe Crusaders ran a line of fortresses along that western edge of the\nJordan valley where Israel, as we saw, failed to protect the mouths of\nher gorges. Belvoir, \u201cthe Star of the Wind,\u201d guards from its lofty\npromontory the passes immediately south of the Sea of Galilee. Bethshan\nitself, where the Canaanites lingered to the standing shame of Israel,\nshows the well-preserved remains of a crusader bridge and fortress. Not\nless striking is the sea-board line of castles. Not only in such old\nlocalities as Tyre and Sidon, C\u00e6sarea and Joppa, did fortresses arise,\nbut on at least two quite new sites--those of Athlit and Acre.\n\n[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE DOME OF THE CHAIN, LOOKING NORTH.]\n\nAthlit is unmentioned in Scripture, and only the eye of seafaring\nsoldiers could have discovered how its little crease in the long\nstraight line of coast might be utilised for defence. Acre is \u201cthe Key\nto Syria\u201d; but it was left for the Crusaders to discover that fact.\n\nYet with all this might and purpose and strategic instinct manifest in\nevery mile of Syria, failure is written broad across the land in these\nruins. At two points the sense of it becomes especially acute. One is\nthe battlefield below the very mountain which tradition has assigned to\nthe preaching of the Sermon on the Mount. The horrors of that field were\nsuch that even yet it is impossible to look without shuddering upon the\nflattened top of Hattin, where the black basalt stands out from the\ngreen slopes below. The Crusaders were rushed into the open plain, near\nwhich Saladin\u2019s cavalry were waiting for them, and they met his assault\nunfed, unrested, and without even water to quench their thirst.\nThroughout a long hot day they perished round the banner of the Cross, a\nfinal element of horror being added when the Saracens set fire to the\nscrub, and unhorsed knights were roasted alive in their armour. That was\nthe decisive battle of the Crusades, and Saladin marched after it\nstraight upon Jerusalem.\n\nThe other point at which the failure of the Crusades has set up its\nmonument is at their own Athlit. The creation of their genius, and for\nsolidity and massive strength perhaps the most characteristic ruin in\nSyria, it is also the saddest thing of all they have left for a\nmemorial. Near its rocks King Louis IX. of France--most unfortunate and\nyet most saintly of all crusading kings--was shipwrecked. Here, too, at\nthe end of the thirteenth century, the Knights Templars made their last\nretreat after the fall of Acre, and it was from its castle that they\ndeparted--the last to abandon the last Crusade. Seen from the sea, the\ncompact and rounded promontory of Athlit presents the appearance of a\nclenched fist menacing and defiant. Its history grimly corroborates the\nimagination that here through centuries of decay the land as it were\ngathers itself together, and thrusts out this grim headland in perpetual\ndefiance of the Western world.\n\nThe Crusades stand for more in Palestine than it is easy to realise. The\ncomprehensiveness of their historical significance is by no means\nexhausted when we have stated it in such paradoxes as those with which\nour chapter began. They were indeed the greatest sham and at the same\ntime the greatest reality of Syrian history, but they were far more than\nthat. They were heirs to all the past of the country, and they did much\nto perpetuate that past and to carry it on into the time to come. Even\nfrom the Moslem life they wrestled with, they borrowed something. They,\nand the chivalry which they fostered, are the most spectacular part of\nWestern history, and give a dash of brilliant colour to the grey life of\nthe Middle Ages. That brilliance is in part the splendour of the East.\nThe Crusader has borrowed from the Saracen at least a scarf for his\nsword.\n\nIt is chiefly as builders that the Crusaders remain in Syria exposed to\nmodern eyes, and in their building they have perpetuated and utilised\nthe other three invasions. From the first Christians they took over\ntheir churches and rebuilt them, retaining something and adding more.\nFrom the older Jewish architects they had almost as great an\ninheritance. There seems no incongruity in the heavy stone mangers and\nfar-driven iron rings which they fixed in the walls of those tremendous\nvaults on which the Temple area rests; and it is by a not unnatural\ntransference that tradition has given to these the name of Solomon\u2019s\nStables. Solomon\u2019s vaults they may have been, but as stables they were\nof crusading origin. Their own building is a rough imitation of the\ndrafted stones of the Jews. The rustic work is much the same, only\nrougher, but the plain chiselling is very far from the minute fineness\nof the older workmanship. Altogether, they were fighters first and\nbuilders second. Like the men of Nehemiah\u2019s time, \u201cevery one with one of\nhis hands wrought in the work, and with the other hand held a weapon....\nEvery one had his sword girded by his side, and so builded.\u201d Nor did\nthey fail to utilise the work of Roman builders. At C\u00e6sarea there is the\nmost striking instance of this, and one of the most suggestive facts in\nthe whole story of the Crusaders. C\u00e6sarea was the most Roman of all\nSyrian towns. Built as the seaport for Sebaste by Herod, it was the part\nof Syria which travellers and governors sailing from Italy first\nsighted, and it was designed to give them the impression of a land\nRomanised. Herod\u2019s delight in pillars is attested by the colonnades of\nSebaste, and the wealth of shaft and capital which marks the ruins of\nall his cities. But in C\u00e6sarea he seems to have excelled himself. The\nRoman mole which forms the northern side of the harbour \u201cis composed of\nsome sixty or seventy prostrate columns lying side by side in the water\nlike rows of stranded logs.\u201d[31] On the long promontory south of the\nmole stands the Crusader Castle, notable for the circumstance that the\nCrusaders built hundreds of lighter and shorter columns into their walls\nto thorough-bind them, so that, in Oliphant\u2019s exact and graphic words,\n\u201cthe butts project like rows of cannon from the side of a man-of-war.\u201d\nWhich thing is for an allegory; and one of the most eloquent of all\nsermons in stone it is. Rome did more for Christianity than all its\nfriends, while she was as yet its enemy. Without her courts of justice\nPaul would have had short shrift from his countrymen. Her roads and her\ncitizenship gave to the first missionaries of the Cross their exit upon\nthe world and their opportunity. Her laws gave them not protection only,\nbut a groundwork for much that entered into that theology which\nconquered the thought of the world. Paul appealed unto C\u00e6sar, and he\nwrote to the Romans his gospel expressed in the forms with which they\nwere most familiar. And it was at C\u00e6sarea that he made his appeal, doing\nin flesh and blood what his disciples a thousand years later did in\nstone--thorough-binding the walls of the building of Christian faith\nwith Roman columns.\n\n\n\n\nPART III\n\nTHE SPIRIT OF SYRIA\n\n\nIn the first and second parts of this book we have been collecting\nimpressions of the Land and its Invaders. It remains for us in the third\npart to gather these together into something which may enable us to\nrealise more clearly the general meaning and quality of the spirit of\nSyria. In the main two things must be noted, and the first of them is\nreligious. Whatever else Palestine may be, she is certainly a land with\na God. The meaning of Syria is disclosed in her Israelite and Christian\nperiods, whose great fact and characteristic process is the revelation\nof God to men on earth. All her other invasions have to reckon with that\nfact. Some of them were bitterly hostile to it, but they were powerless\nto efface it. Others were indifferent, entering Syria for ends of their\nown; but history shews them bent over to God\u2019s purposes and\nunconsciously made the instruments of working out His will. That will\nbrought Israel to her land, isolated her there, hemmed her in, bore her\nand carried her in everlasting arms on through her centuries, finally\nwas incarnate in her life. For Jesus Christ was a Syrian, and we must\norientalise our thoughts of Him before we can rightly understand the\nChristian revelation.\n\nNot less clear is the second impression, which is that of the\nunfinishedness and imperfection of all things Syrian. It is a place of\nwreckage, new and old. But the peculiarity of that wreckage is that it\nwas always there, more or less. None of the ideals of the land were ever\nquite realised. It was never completely conquered by the Israelites,\ntheir ambition stopping short and their energy flagging before their\ntask was done. It was never completely cultivated, or made to yield its\nfull harvest of natural wealth. In countless small things this\nincompleteness is evident. The contrast between the beauty of the\ndistant view and the disorder and slovenliness of the near has been\nalready noted. The post-office in Damascus is a quite good post-office,\nso far as letters and telegrams go. But you inquire for these in a hall\nwhich looks like a very dirty stable-yard with a very dirty fountain in\nthe middle of it, furnished with little rough-sawn wooden boxes for\nprivate letters, such as no self-respecting grocer would pack with\noranges. Even the tombs, about which so much sacredness is supposed to\ngather, are the untidiest of sepulchres. You may see a large and\nexpensive tombstone, shining white in the distance, with all the air of\naristocratic self-importance which man\u2019s pride can lend to death; but\nwhen you approach, it is railed off with bamboo and barbed wire which\nmight have been picked off a rubbish-heap. There are good roads in\nplaces, but they lead to nowhere. Generally they collapse into mere\nwatercourses after a few miles, or they run on in a squared and measured\nlane of sharp boulders down which no horse can walk. Nor is this\nincompleteness a peculiarity of Turkish administration. Probably nothing\nin Palestine is older than the landmarks which divide the fields. From\ngeneration to generation these have been held sacred, laws against their\nremoval having been in force among the ancient Canaanites before the\nconquest by Israel. So sacred are they that even murderers and thieves\nwill seldom dare to tamper with them. Yet through all the long past the\nlandmarks are said to have remained as the first men laid them\ndown--mere inconspicuous heaps of little stones, the easiest things in\nthe world to remove.\n\nWhen we take the unfinishedness of the land along with the revelation\nand consider them together, we can hardly fail to gain a lesson of\nfar-reaching meaning. The great incompleteness of Syria--the thing in\nwhich her life has been most lamentably unfinished--was her response to\nthe revelation of her God. She never was at pains to understand it; she\nnever fully opened her heart to its new progress, nor felt her high\ndestiny as the bearer of good tidings to the world. She never seriously\nset herself to obey its plainest ethical demands. The wreckage is her\nprice paid for the neglect. No man nor nation can finish any task to\nperfection, who has not done justice to such revelation of God as his\nheart and conscience have received. It is truth to the inward light that\nkeeps us from losing heart and enables us to feel that energy and\npatience to the end are worth our while. Right dealing with revelation\nis the secret of all efficient performance. The combination in\nPalestine of such revelation and such defect in strenuous action shows\nus a land that has just missed the most amazing destiny on earth.\n\nIt is in the remembrance of these thoughts that the chapters of this\npart should be read. The Shadow of Death has fallen because these men\ncould not escape their knowledge of some greatness in death, more moving\nthan anything life had to show. The spectral is but a degenerate and\nperverse form of their sense of God. The Cross gives its ethical\nsignificance to the burden and sorrow of the land. Resurrection shows\nsigns even now that God has not yet done with Syria. But first, before\nwe treat these aspects of her spirit, let us look at it on its brighter\nside--the smile and song of the land.\n\n[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE DOME OF THE ROCK (MOSQUE OF OMAR), FROM\nTHE SOUTH-EAST.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE LIGHTER SIDE OF THINGS\n\n\nOne easily forgets, among the many sorrows of the Holy Land, that there\nis any lighter side to the picture there. Yet such a side there is, and\nalways has been. Nature is not always severe, nor the spirit of man\nmelancholy, in the East. Both nature and man are sometimes found in\nlighter vein here as elsewhere. Stevenson\u2019s most charming good word for\nthe world he always defended so gallantly, is specially applicable to\nthe Syrian part of it.--\u201cIt is a shaggy world, and yet studded with\ngardens; where the salt and tumbling sea receives rivers running from\namong reeds and lilies.\u201d Syria has always known the value of her\ngardens, and felt the sweet enchantment of her reeds and lilies. Was not\nher first story told of a garden where four such rivers flowed, and her\nnoblest sermon that whose text was \u201cthe lilies of the field\u201d and \u201cthe\nbirds of the air\u201d? What pleasantness of open nature there is in these\ntwo latter expressions! What sense of field-breadth and sky-space, in\nwhich the Preacher had room for breathing and for delight! Every\nIsraelite, sitting under his vine and fig tree, or going forth to\nmeditate in the fields at evening, knew this charm. From of old the\ninhabitants have taken delight in exchanging roofs for bowers in their\nfields and gardens, or for booths, built with green branches on their\nhouse-roofs. Many a sweet vista is seen in Palestine framed in trellised\nvines or in passion-flower swinging over a roofed fountain or a garden\nhouse. The mountains were often bare and unhomely, for at no time can\nany but a minor part of them have been cultivated; yet even the\nwind-swept heights were inhabited by health and hope and gladness, and\nwhen a shepherd passed by, or the reapers shouted in the harvest-fields,\nthe heart of the men of Israel sang aloud. In the words of the 65th\nPsalm this exhilaration and childlike glee finds its most perfect\nexpression; we quote them in that old Scottish rhymed version which has\nso singularly caught their spirit:--\n\n They drop upon the pastures wide,\n That do in deserts lie;\n The little hills on ev\u2019ry side\n Rejoice right pleasantly.\n\n With flocks the pastures clothed be,\n The vales with corn are clad;\n And now they shout and sing to thee,\n For thou hast made them glad.\n\nSimilarly the Jordan, usually thought of with a certain gloom, and\nrendered still more dismal by its persistent allegorical association\nwith death, is by no means so melancholy as it is supposed to be. Its\nrise, indeed, was from a black cave, where ancient pagan worship erected\nits shrines, seeing life issue there from the abyss of death. Its course\nleads it far down, like the dark stream of classic fable, below the\nsurface of the earth and ocean. Yet there is no sense of all that as\none looks at it from any point in its course. The trees of Syria are\ngenerally disappointing. For the most part solitary, or undersized where\nthere is a wood, many of them are decaying, and most of them are dull in\ncolour. But the vegetation of the Jordan is a bright exception. Even at\nits lowest point, when it is hurrying over the last miles to the Dead\nSea, it flows through that rich boscage known as the \u201cSwellings\u201d or the\n\u201cPride\u201d of Jordan, where pilgrims cut their staves. It is to this part\nof its course that the words in _Tancred_ apply most exactly, \u201cThe\nbeauty and abundance of the Promised Land may still be found ... ever by\nthe rushing waters of the bowery Jordan.\u201d Warburton, describing the same\nscene in early morning, speaks of the awakening of birds and beasts\nthere, and then the sunrise, adding, \u201cI lingered long upon that\nmountain\u2019s brow, and thought that, so far from deserving all the dismal\nepithets that had been bestowed upon it, I had not seen so cheerful or\nattractive a scene in Palestine.\u201d\n\nThe scents of the East add to the delightfulness of Nature on her\npleasant side. There are plenty of abominable smells there, but these\nare in the towns and villages. The open country is continually\nsurprising and refreshing its travellers with new perfume. That this is\nfully appreciated by the natives, no reader of the Bible can forget.\nThere we have the scent of spices and of wine; of the field, of water,\nand of Lebanon; of budding vines, mandrakes, apples; of ointment, of\nincense, and of raiment. In such references we see the East inhaling the\nfragrance of the land with an almost passionate delight. It is all\nthere still. The scent of the desert after rain has been already\nreferred to, but the same aromatic perfume may be enjoyed by climbing\nthe hills above Beyrout, where every ground-plant seems to breathe forth\nspices. Again, there are the blossoming trees, the heavy perfume of\norange-flower, and the simple fragrance of roses. Best of all, there is\nthe clean smell of ripe grain in the cornfields, and the fresh, briny\nexhilaration of breezes from the sea.\n\nSuch is the lighter side of Nature; and man is not by any means so far\nout of touch with it as is often supposed. The severity of material\nconditions and of historical experience has not been able quite to\nsuppress man\u2019s gaiety. It is well that this has been so, for here\ncertainly the words of the Scots song are true enough: \u201cWerena my heart\nlicht, I wad dee.\u201d With so much of the darker powers of the universe\npressing hard upon them, one trembles to imagine what the spirit of\nSyria would have been without those inexhaustible stores of gaiety that\nbreak forth sometimes like her great river from the very darkness of the\nabyss. Her laughter is not that of progressive lands looking to the\nfuture in the great joy of an intelligent hope. It is rather a part of\nher inalienable childhood, whose fresh sweetness and virginity have\nsomehow been permitted to remain through all her sorrows. Renan\ndescribes the heroes of the Bible as \u201calways young, healthy, and strong,\nscarcely at all superstitious, passionate, simple, and grand.\u201d There is\nstill some inheritance of such life, perpetually young and even\nchildish, in the Holy Land.\n\nThe first appearance of an Eastern is grave and solemn, with an element\nof contempt in it rather trying to the would-be jester or too familiar\nstranger. But this is not wholly due to any weight of gloom pressing on\nhis heart. It has, with singular ingenuity, been traced to quite minor\nand apparently insignificant causes, such as the wearing of flowing\nrobes by the men and the burden-bearing of the women. There can be no\ndoubt that both clothes and burdens exercise a powerful influence on\ncharacter; and it may well be the case that the management of their\ngarment has taught dignity to the men, while the carrying of heavy\nwaterpots has helped to make the women graceful and erect. There is also\nthe instinct of self-defence, and the constant remembrance of danger.\nEvery Eastern, however prosperous, impresses one with the idea that his\ntable is spread for him in the presence of his enemies. This leads\nhim--especially if he be an Arab--to assume a show of superiority and a\nbullying swagger, which seem to the uninitiated quite impervious to any\nthought of fun. But the mask is easily laid aside, and the gravest and\nmost contemptuous Syrian will suddenly collapse into harsh laughter or\nforget himself in childish interest.\n\nIt would be wonderful if it were otherwise. The East is full of\nprovocatives to mirth--not merely such as seem ridiculous to a stranger\nbecause they are foreign, but things grotesque in themselves. Take the\none instance of the camel. Much has been written about him from many\npoints of view, but justice has never yet been done to the camel as a\nhumorous person. Yet he is the most humorous of all the inhabitants of\nthe East. Beside him, with his sardonic pleasantry, the monkey is a\nmountebank and the donkey but a solemn little ass. He has been described\nas \u201cthe tall, simple, smiling camel\u201d; but on closer acquaintance he\nturns out to be hardly so simple as he might be taken for, and if he\nsmiles, he is generally smiling at you. The camels you meet in Syria are\ncarrying barley with the air of kings, and regarding their human\ncompanions with, at best, a sentiment of contemptuous tolerance. The\nlower lip of a camel is one of the most expressive features in the whole\nrepertoire of natural history. The humours of this animal reached for us\ntheir climax at Sheikh Miskin, while we were waiting for the Damascus\ntrain. A camel had been persuaded to kneel in order to receive its load\nof long poles brought by the railway. It was roaring steadily, in a\nfiendish and yet conscientious manner. Ten men were loading it, of whom\none stood upon its near fore-leg, two fastened the poles upon its back,\nand the remaining seven looked on and made remarks. The beast waited\nuntil the poles were all but fixed--ten of them or so. Then it indulged\nin a shake, which sent them rolling in all directions. Finally it was\nloaded, with two of the sticks on one side and one on the other, their\nends projecting far out behind and in front. It rose, nearly ruining a\nwell-dressed Arab who had somehow got in among it. Just then the train\narrived and the camel fled incontinently, sidewise like a crab,\nspreading the fear of death in man and beast for many yards around, and\ndragging a terrified driver, who hung on to its head-rope, across\ntowards the distant east. A loaded camel behaving in this fashion is a\ndeadlier weapon than a loaded gun.\n\nNow the native wit always appeared to us to have modelled itself on\ncamel drollery of this sort. It is generally personal, and its essential\nfunction is to hit somebody. It lacks freshness, and has a certain\nsuggestion of a clown with \u201ccrow\u2019s feet\u201d under his eyes. Sometimes\nindeed a Syrian indulges in jokes at his own expense, but more\nfrequently his facetiousness is at the expense of others, and it is\ntolerably direct. The habit of nicknames lends itself to Oriental wit,\nthe lean man being described familiarly as \u201cFather of Bones,\u201d and the\nstout man as \u201cFull Moon of Religion.\u201d Passing through a village some\ndistance off the usual route of travellers, we were surrounded with\nvillagers who asked the dragoman why we had come. \u201cTo take away your\ncountry!\u201d was the answer, and it was met with peals of laughter. Another\nwitticism which was immensely appreciated was the remark to some farmers\nwho were suffering from drought that we in England had stolen their rain\nand it had made many people sick there. A boatman on the Sea of Galilee\nwas being chaffed unmercifully upon the fact that he had once tried to\ncommit suicide. He appealed, smiling, to one of the passengers as \u201cMy\nFather,\u201d and pled that he had been mad when he did that. A\nfellow-boatman rebuked him for calling the gentleman \u201cfather of a\nlunatic,\u201d and the whole crew was dissolved in laughter, the victim\nhimself heartily joining in the chorus. In Damascus we found a time-worn\nJoe Miller in the shout of the nosegay-seller--a very musical cry, which\nthe guide-book translates \u201cAppease your mother-in-law,\u201d _i.e._ by\npresenting her with a bouquet.\n\nFrom of old pleasure has been apt to degenerate in the luxurious East,\nand the fun of Syrians shows abundant traces of such degeneration. Many\nunpleasant elements mingle with it. One of the recognised forces in\nEastern life is _humbug_--barefaced bluff and transparent pretence,\nwhich is apparently seen through and yet retains its potency. The\nlengths to which this method may go are almost incredible, and cases are\non record of interpreters who have volubly translated a long English\naddress and afterwards confessed that they did not know a word of the\nEnglish language. At times, also, high spirits leads to savagery. The\nmen who were in charge of our animals were kind and even affectionate to\nthem, but their moods changed unaccountably. Your donkey-driver,\ntrotting behind his donkey, will sometimes encourage it with yelling\nwhich would fill any animal less philosophical with the fear of instant\nextermination, and he jocularly throws rocks at it until you stop him.\nWorst of all, the Syrian humour constantly tends towards indecency of\nthe most bestial type. The song with which a musical donkey-boy relieves\nthe monotony of the journey is sometimes quite untranslatable. The\n\u201cbody-dances,\u201d which form the staple\n\n[Illustration: THE MOUNT OF OLIVES, FROM A HOUSE-TOP ON MOUNT ZION.]\n\nentertainment provided by wandering Arabs, are often pantomimic, and\ntheir crude realism is unspeakably disgusting.\n\nYet there is a very innocent and cheerful vein in the human nature of\nSyria. At times it is irrelevant and trying. The camp guards, _e.g._ who\nare hired from the nearest village to watch the sleeping tents, are apt\nto beguile the hours of darkness in a manner hardly conducive to repose.\nIn most of our camps they were silent figures, flitting about in an\nalmost ghostly fashion, with perfectly noiseless footsteps. But\nMacGregor complains of having had to pay his Egyptian guards \u201cfor\nsleeping very loud to keep away the robbers.\u201d Our difficulties were not\nexactly the same as his, but in some places the guards kept singing as\nthey paced to and fro, and shouted cheerily to one another along the\nwhole length of the encampment, or whistled incessantly, and\noccasionally fired guns to prove their vigilance. There is a sense of\nspontaneity and heartiness about the mirth of the East which throws into\nstrong contrast its subtler and more gloomy characteristics.\nIrresponsible and gay, Syrians seem to be grown-up children, and they\nretain the ways of childhood. We rarely saw children playing games, but\nbands of full-grown men were seen at times playing schoolboys\u2019 field\ngames with much shouting. Everybody in the cities appears to be either\nselling or eating sweetmeats. Sport is rare, but men go forth with guns\nto shoot little birds like sparrows. One of the most curious sights of\nDamascus is that of shopkeepers and artisans who go about the streets\nfollowed by pet lambs instead of dogs, the wool of these strange little\ncreatures being dyed in brilliant spots of blue or pink.\n\nThe kindliness of the East is as genuine and as pleasing as that of any\nland in the West. It is not in evidence indeed when there is nothing to\ncall it forth. As you pass through the country, the villagers and\ntownsfolk regard you with indifference if not with scorn. But one must\nremember the universal _acting_ of the East--its devotion to\nappearances, and its very curious ideas as to which appearances are most\nbecoming. With that in mind, the indifference and the scorn become less\nalarming. You may find the whole spirit of the situation suddenly change\nto one of the kindliest. A traveller who has fallen victim to one of the\nmalarial fevers which are so common in Syria at certain periods, will\nnever forget the tenderness with which his camp-servants come about his\ntent inquiring, \u201cEnte mabsut?\u201d (Are you happy, or well?). When he\nreturns the inquiry the answer is, \u201cEnte mabsut, ana mabsut\u201d (If you are\nhappy, I am happy). At Sidon we had just arrived and had the tents\npitched in the open space next the burying-ground. It was Thursday, and\nthe graves were crowded with visitors--Mohammedan women in black, white,\nor light-coloured robes. They did not seem very sad, even beside the\nmost recent graves, but gossiped and enjoyed their half-holiday,\ndisappearing before sunset silently, like a flock of pigeons to their\ndovecots. The spectacle was theatrical and almost unearthly. It was\ndifficult to persuade oneself that these flitting figures were really\nwomen at all; they seemed rather to be animated bits of landscape. Just\nwhile we were watching this, and feeling all its dreamy remoteness from\nhuman life as we had ever known it, two new figures appeared. They were\nthe gardener of a neighbouring garden and his young daughter Wurda\n(Rhoda, Rose). She was five years of age, a tiny vision of black eyes\nand hair, the hair being arranged in two pigtails down her back. She\nbrought a little bunch of roses for each of us, and as she gave them\nkissed our hands with as sweet a shyness as any child anywhere could\nhave done. The incident, like that on the hill of Samaria, lingers on\nthe memory, and bears witness to a world of gentleness and kindliness\nsuch as we had little dreamed of. Altogether there are abundant signs\nthat in ancient days there must have been much of that Syrian life\ndescribed by one scholar as \u201cgay and bright, festive and musical--the\nvery home of songs and dances.\u201d It is pleasant to know that although the\nfortunes of the land have saddened her so terribly, there still remains\nsomething at least of her former gaiety.\n\nEven the religion of Syria has its lighter side. Every student of the\nBible knows how much there was of rejoicing and fresh childlike\nrevelling in the situation, in the worship of ancient Israel. It is\npeculiarly interesting to find that in the Semitic worship before and\napart from the invasion of Israel, so kindly and friendly a relation\nsubsisted between man and his gods. \u201cThe circle into which a man was\nborn was not simply a group of kinsfolk and fellow-citizens, but\nembraced also certain divine beings, the gods of the family and of the\nstate, which to the ancient mind were as much a part of the particular\ncommunity with which they stood connected as the human members of the\nsocial circle.\u201d[32] Accordingly it would appear that among these ancient\nSemites the conception of sacrifice was by no means so gloomy as it came\nto be later, when the moral tragedy of life was more clearly realised.\nThe idea was that of \u201ccommunion with the deity in a sacrificial meal of\nholy food.\u201d They \u201cgo on eating and drinking and rejoicing before their\ngod with the assurance that he and they are on the best of jovial good\nterms.... Ancient religion assumes that through the help of the gods\nlife is so happy and satisfactory that ordinary acts of worship are all\nbrightness and hilarity, expressing no other idea than that the\nworshippers are well content with themselves and with their divine\nsovereign.\u201d[33]\n\nOf course the severer truth and cleaner conscience which Israel\u2019s\nrevelation brought her gradually deepened the shadows on her religious\nlife. She substituted duty for happiness, the beauty of holiness for the\nmere _joie de vivre_, and the tragic blessedness of forgiveness for the\ncareless pleasures of life. Yet to the end she retained and insisted on\nthe gladness of religion. The duty of joy was a command and not merely\nan epigram for Israel. Dante himself was not more explicit in his\ncondemnation of perverse sullenness than was he who wrote, \u201cBecause\nthou servedst not the Lord thy God with joyfulness, and with gladness of\nheart, for the abundance of all things: therefore shalt thou serve thine\nenemies.\u201d[34]\n\nIt is surely a very striking fact that the spots which all travellers\nselect as those in which the gladness of the land dwells most freely\nstill are Nazareth and Bethlehem. For beauty of feature and of dress,\nand for their general air of pleasant and light-hearted gaiety, these\nare the acknowledged centres. It was of Bethlehem that we felt this most\ntrue. Its name, signifying \u201cHouse of Bread,\u201d is significant of plenty\nand of comfort. Its associations, even apart from the song of angels\nthere, are sweet and gracious. While approaching it, you look across a\npleasant and lightsome landscape to the dim blue mountains of Moab, and\nremember how Ruth looked across these very fields, when the reapers of\nBoaz were working in them, to her distant home in those mountains. Here\nit was that King David in his boyhood played and tended the flocks of\nhis father, and it was the water of that sweet well for which he longed\nin the days of his adversity. These and a hundred other memories prepare\nthe traveller for a place of gracious and kindly sweetness.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE SHADOW OF DEATH\n\n\nWe now turn sharply to the other side of things, and it must be apparent\nto every one that we are passing from the smaller to the vastly greater\nelement in the spirit of Syria. The text in Deuteronomy which we\nquoted[35] shows us joy commanded at the sword\u2019s point, as if the nation\nwere unwilling and unlikely to obey easily the happy command. Even when\nJesus Christ repeats the injunction in His great words, \u201cRejoice and be\nexceeding glad,\u201d it is a defiant gladness He enjoins. The context shows\nthat the rejoicing is that of persecuted and slandered men. A recent\nwriter has bitterly described our march through life in the words: \u201cWe\nuphold our wayward steps with the promises and the commandments for\ncrutches, but on either side of us trudge the shadow Death and the\nbacchanal Sex.\u201d[36] The words sound profane to Western ears, but they\nare not untrue of the spirit of Syria. It is of \u201cthe shadow Death\u201d that\nthe present chapter treats.\n\nAs primitive religion decayed and men lost their sense of kinship and\ntheir easy and friendly relations with the old gods, they were left\nalone with death, which everywhere stared them in the face and claimed\nthem for its own. Next to God, death is the most impressive fact in\nhuman experience, with sin for its sting. When old and defective views\nof God are passing away, two courses are open to men. As death closes in\nupon them, and they feel its grasp upon their unprotected souls, they\nmay appeal from it to God, and find Him revealing Himself, with eternal\nlife for them in the knowledge of Him. This was what the noblest of\nIsrael\u2019s thinkers did, and the growing revelation of the Bible was their\nreward. God showed Himself to them in ever-increasing clearness, until\none and another and another of them found that the hand that grasped\nthem was \u201cnot Death but Love.\u201d But another course is open. They may\nenthrone death in place of the broken gods--\u201cDeath is king, and vivat\nrex!\u201d They may \u201csay to corruption, Thou art my father; to the worm, Thou\nart my mother, and my sister.\u201d Then the emphasis of thought will fall on\nthe grave, and all men\u2019s imaginations will grow morbid.\n\nThe tombs of the Holy Land are of many patterns. In his _Haifa_,\nLaurence Oliphant describes several different kinds of them, from the\ncave-sepulchres, or the underground galleries, to the little wayside\ngraves or narrow holes driven into rock which seem such tightly-fitting\nhomes for the dead. There are, of course, the modern graves sacred to\nthe wives and children of missionaries who have laid down their lives\nin the loving service of Christ and man. Buckle the historian sleeps in\nthe Christian burying-ground at Damascus, and Henriette Renan was laid\nto rest in Byblus. These graves and others dear to the Western world\nare, as graves have been since Abraham\u2019s day, symbols of the strangers\u2019\ninheritance and lot in the Holy Land. From these, back to the tombs of\nhoariest antiquity, the country is bound by an unbroken chain of death.\nThrough all the centuries the dead have been thrust upon the notice of\nthe living in a fashion so obtrusive as to make this the most obvious\nimpression of the land. Most of the graves are those of persons now\nunknown and quite forgotten. Small and great, common men and heroes, are\nalike conspicuous in death. Each of the invaders has left his memorial,\nand the sites of ancient cities are traced by help of their\nburying-grounds.\n\nMoslem tombs are everywhere. Most of them are oblong structures of rude\nbut solid masonry erected over shallow graves. In some cases a painted\ntarbush (fez-cap) marks the head and a little upright stone the feet. A\nslight hollow is often cut in the flat top for birds to drink from.\nTombs are clustered among their iris-flowers beside the walls of\nvillages. They have crept up to the very summit of the hill which Gordon\nidentifies as Calvary. They have encroached on the palace of Herod\u2019s\ndaughter at Samaria. They crowd the ground outside the built-up \u201cGate\nBeautiful\u201d at Jerusalem. There is, to our feelings, a certain indecency\nin this promiscuous invasion of the grave: Mohammedans seem\n\n[Illustration: THE CHURCH OF THE NATIVITY AT BETHLEHEM.\n\n From a garden on the opposite hill.\n]\n\nto bury their dead anywhere. The Crusaders have left fewer memorials of\nthemselves in the shape of tombs than one might have expected.\nBarbarossa\u2019s tomb we have already visited. For the rest, their memorials\nare mostly those great buildings whose ruins stand to this day. Early\nChristianity, too, has left its tombs--catacombs and single graves,\nespecially in the southern part of the coast, and eastwards in Hauran.\nPeople of importance have sometimes more than one tomb, like St. George,\nwho is buried both in Lydda and Damascus. But the graves of humbler\nChristians are more precious than these, for their inscriptions remain,\nbreathing forth the faith and peace with which Christ had blessed the\nworld. Such memorials of victory over death are inextinguishable lamps\nhung in the sepulchres of Syria. And these lamps are kindled at the\nGreat Light. Never was symbolism more appropriate than that of the Holy\nFire in the Church of the Sepulchre. The very heart and soul of Syria is\na tomb--the reputed grave of Jesus Christ. To this day the chief pilgrim\nsong repeats with exultant reiteration the words, \u201cThis is the tomb of\nChrist.\u201d It is a song which has never been silent in the land. In the\nCrusader camps a herald closed the day with the loud cry, \u201cLord, succour\nthe Holy Sepulchre\u201d; and the sentinels passed the word from post to\npost, \u201cRemember the Holy Sepulchre.\u201d\n\nIt is not, however, the victory over death that impresses one as the\nspirit of Syria. It is death itself, unconquered, mysterious, and dark.\nIts Christian tombs are few and far between compared with the countless\nmultitude of sepulchres where there is no lamp alight. Most common and\nmost impressive of these are the Roman and Greek graves. The sands of\nTyre and Sidon are strewn with sarcophagi. Here a man\u2019s magnificently\ncarved stone coffin serves for a drinking-trough, there a little child\u2019s\nstands alone and desolate near a river mouth. In Sidon the ancient\ncemetery is on a scale whose rifled grandeur speaks volumes concerning\nthe vanity of earthly greatness. At Gadara, the eastward road is a\nminiature Appian Way: hollow to the tread of horses as they cross the\nexcavated rock, and adorned with sarcophagi carved with crowns and\ngarlands, but bearing inscriptions without hope in them. Farther north,\non the eastern slopes of Hermon, we found a far older monument near one\nof the Druse villages. We were crossing a little brook, when we noticed\nthat the bridge consisted of two huge monolithic slabs of limestone,\nwhich, on examination, appeared to be the lids of ancient sarcophagi.\nThe carving on the ends was obviously intended to represent figures of\ncherubim or some such winged creatures. The heads were gone, but the\nplumage of the wings was very perfectly preserved. No one in the\nlocality knew anything about their origin. Their general appearance\nseemed to connect them with the far East.\n\nThe Jewish tombs are those which impress the imagination most with the\nbitterness of death in Syria. They are so sad, with their antique\nsolemnity--so severely simple and unadorned. Where there is carving it\nis almost always of Roman or Christian workmanship. A few stones with\nsuch symbols as the seven-branched candlestick engraved on them are the\nonly unquestionable remains of ornamental Jewish work. Few of the Jewish\nsepulchres have escaped appropriation by Gentiles. The more famous of\nthem have been appropriated by the Mohammedans, and early Christian\ntradition is responsible for many other indentifications. The saints and\nheroes of Israel, claimed also by Mohammedans and Christians, have\nachieved a kind of funereal immortality which makes the whole land seem\none vast graveyard. Every prospect is dotted with tombs. The tomb of\nJonas shines white from its hill-top north of Hebron, that of Samuel\nnorth of Jerusalem, while Joseph\u2019s tomb commands the view where the Vale\nof Shechem opens on the wider valley of Makhnah. None of them, however,\nis at all so impressive as the tomb of Rachel, where a modern house and\ndome cover a rough block of stone worn smooth with the kisses of\ncenturies of Jewish women. The wailing, as we saw it there, is a\nmemorable custom. The women were mostly elderly or aged, but they were\nweeping real tears and wailing bitterly as they kissed the stone. It is\nan old story that consecrates that rough stone, but how eternal is its\nhuman pathos: \u201cAnd they journeyed from Bethel; and there was but a\nlittle way to come to Ephrath: and Rachel travailed, and she had hard\nlabour.... And Rachel died, and was buried in the way to Ephrath, which\nis Bethlehem.\u201d[37]\n\nThe earlier fashion of Jewish work seems to have been the \u201cpigeon-hole,\u201d\nin which the corpse was thrust into a little tunnel six feet long driven\nat right angles to the rock face. Later, troughs were excavated to fit\nthe body along the line of the rock. In some instances these graves,\nespecially the former kind, are found in detached groups in wayside\nrocks, whose perpendicular faces front the open air. For the most part\nthey are grouped in larger numbers within natural caves or subterranean\nexcavations, whose low doorway is blocked by a large circular stone\nrunning in a groove. A later example of such a cave is that which is\nshewn as the \u201cnew tomb\u201d of Joseph of Arimathea, close to Gordon\u2019s\nCalvary. A few specimens of another sort, built of masonry without\ncement, are to be found in Galilee.[38] Nothing could be gloomier than\nthe constantly repeated ruins of ancient Jewish graves in Syria. No\nday\u2019s journey is without them. They meet you casually, as it were, at\nevery turning. They are not, indeed, quite dark like the pagan tombs;\nbut the twilight, in which the hope of immortality just broke the\ndarkness for ancient Israel, is grey and cheerless, and the contribution\nof Jewish graves to the spirit of Syria is a very sombre one.\n\nThe typical spot for this side of the spirit of Syria is the town of\nHebron.\n\nThe lanes and the dark bazaar are filthy and foul-smelling. The mosque\nis an impressive building, suggestive of military rather than devotional\nideas. The Tomb of Abraham, which it covers, is one of the sights which\nonly a very few Christian eyes have seen. It is permitted to none but\nMohammedans to approach nearer the entrance to it than the seventh step\nof the lane, or staircase, alongside its eastern wall. There is a hole\nin that wall which is supposed to communicate with the cave below. Jews\nwrite letters to Abraham, and place them in this hole, to tell him how\nbadly they are being treated by the Moslems. But the Moslem boys are\nsaid to know that the hole has no great depth, and to collect these\nletters and burn them before Abraham has seen them. The tomb is the very\nheart and black centre of the Shadow of Death in Palestine.\n\nThere is no part of man\u2019s faith in which it is more necessary to be\nthoroughgoing than in his thoughts about immortality. Egypt and Greece\nfurnish examples of great significance here. Egypt held an elaborate\ndoctrine of the future life, and it dominated all her thought concerning\nthis life. Men built their tombs and kings their pyramids as the most\nimportant of their life\u2019s achievements. The earthly house of the\nEgyptian was but an inn where he spent a little time in passing; his\ntomb was his eternal house and real home. Thus the tombs were glorified\ncopies of the dwelling-houses, either of the present, or more often of a\nformer generation.[39] Greece, on the other hand, did not believe in a\nlife beyond the grave. Her funeral celebrations were full of\nlamentation, and her inscriptions sound sad enough to us. But it was a\nprinciple with Greece and Rome to decorate tombs exclusively with glad\nsymbols such as sculptured flowers and even dances.[40] The point to be\nobserved about these is that neither of them was morbid. Morbidness\nappears to avoid a robust faith or a frank scepticism,[41] and to cling\nabout the thought which is neither sure of one thing nor another.\n\nIsrael\u2019s position in regard to the belief in immortality is extremely\ndifficult to define. It was obviously with her a thing of gradual\ndevelopment, as her revelation opened its broadening light upon life\u2019s\nproblems. He would be a bold critic who would sum up the situation of\nIsaiah\u2019s time as Renan does in the statement, \u201cnot looking beyond the\nworld for reward and punishment,\u201d the Hebrew life \u201chas a heroic tension,\na sustained cry, an unceasing attention to the events of the world.\u201d\nEverything goes to shew that long before the faith in immortality had\ngrasped the imagination and the belief of the people in general it had\nbeen revealed to chosen spirits. As for the others, it had been working\nits way among them, occupying their minds in speculation, and leading\nthem, as it were, among the shades of the nether world. There was\nsomething in the genius of the nation which rendered this interest in\ndeath quite inevitable. The natural bearing of the people has a strange\nsolemnity about it, which finds constant expression in pose and\ngesture, and often strikes the stranger with sudden vividness. Women may\nbe often seen, especially when clad in thin white garments on holidays,\nwho might stand just as you see them as models for monumental sculpture.\nAlong with all its activities, there is a distinct sympathy with death\nin the genius of Israel.\n\nThis phenomenon is, of course, due to very complex causes. It is a\ndeep-rooted Semitic instinct, which seems to be not altogether unlike\nthat of the Egyptian feeling to the tomb as the real home. Some parts of\nArabia are very rich in sacred tombs and spots of holy ground, and\npilgrimages are made to these both by Moslems and by Jews. Long strings\nof mules, laden with coffins, wend their way to such sacred places as\nNejf, and thousands of corpses are sent thither even from India.[42] Old\ntombstones are held in peculiar veneration by the more devout Arabs. The\nwell-known reverence with which the Syrian Jews regard the tombs of\ntheir ancestors may be in part explained on the ground of patriotic\nloyalty. Such scenes as those which may be witnessed at the tomb of\nRachel, remind us that a sense of the pathos of human life and its\nmortality is also developed strongly and enters as a very real factor\ninto the spirit of Syria.[43] Nor can there be any doubt that a certain\nmoral or didactic use of death is also characteristic of the East, such\nas is expressed in the sententious rhymes of old graveyards in this\ncountry. The reader will recall the famous instance of this, which Sir\nWalter Scott has made familiar--the shroud which served for the banner\nof Saladin, with its inscription, \u201cSaladin must die.\u201d[44]\n\nIf, however, such elements have entered into earlier thoughts of death,\nit is to be feared that Palestine of the present day has little of them\nleft. The great light of Christ illuminated the sepulchres of Christian\nSyria; but with the Mohammedan conquest darkness fell again, and all the\nmorbid fascination of the grave reasserted itself. There is little\nreverence for the ordinary man\u2019s place of burial now, whether it be of\nancient or of recent date. Dr. Merrill tells how he has found Arabs\nactually stealing graves, i.e. clearing out old ones to make room for a\nnewly-deceased body, on the plea that \u201cthe dead man who was buried there\ncould not possibly want his grave any longer.\u201d[45] On many a hillside\nthe rock tombs are rent and split, like pictures from Dante\u2019s _Inferno_,\nwhere they have been blasted open with gunpowder in the search for\ntreasure; and sometimes parties of natives may be seen prowling about a\nhillside on that business. The find may consist of glass bracelets,\nwhich have to be taken from the bone of a baby\u2019s arm, or gold earrings\nbeside the skull whose face was once fair; but they excite no emotion\nexcept that of money values. Laurence Oliphant had difficulty in\nrestraining the natives who searched with him from smashing the cinerary\nurns they found, on\n\n[Illustration: JERUSALEM--EXTERIOR OF THE GOLDEN, OR BEAUTIFUL, GATE.\n\nThis gate, which was walled up by the Arabs after the conquest of\nJerusalem, forms a tower projecting from the Eastern Wall of the Temple\nArea. The tombs in the foreground are part of the great Mohammedan\nCemetery extending along the Eastern Wall of Jerusalem.]\n\nthe plea that \u201cthey are so very old that they are not worth anything.\u201d\n\nWith the decay of reverence for the dead, however, there seems to have\nbeen a recrudescence of that morbid and charnel-house interest in death\nwhich marks the spirit of the land. At times one is shocked by the\napparently total indifference displayed--houses being built close to the\nmouths of graves or even, it is said, upon the roofs of them. Yet any\none who has seen a festival at a holy tomb, whether Jewish or\nMohammedan, must have realised the strong attraction by which death and\nthe grave draw men. A curious instance of this is that of the \u201cJews\u2019\nBurning\u201d at Tiberias.\n\nTiberias has been a Jewish centre since the time of Vespasian. Before\nthat time, Jews avoided the city, because in building it Herod had\ndisturbed a burial-place. To-day, by a strange coincidence, it is a tomb\nthat gives it its special popularity for the Jews--the grave of the\nfamous Rabbi Meir. Conveniently near the tomb there are large baths,\nwhose warm and sulphurous water is considered highly medicinal. At this\ntomb a curious spectacle may be seen on the second day of May each year.\nJewish pilgrims from near and far assemble, bringing with them their\noldest garments, which are immersed in a great cauldron of oil, and then\npiled up and burned. The honour of setting fire to the pile is sold to\nthe highest bidder, and the sum paid reaches \u00a315 or more.\n\nThe same fascination of death, seen as it were past a byplay of\nirreverence and grotesqueness, is felt in the burial customs as they are\nseen to-day. At the Moslem funerals we saw there was no appearance of\nmourning. The men were dressed in gay colours, and they trotted along\nbehind the corpse talking and gesticulating with an apparent gusto. It\nmay have been the unusual appearance of the thing which impressed\nstrangers more powerfully than natives; but to us it seemed that the\nrealism of death was here in more crude and aggressive consciousness\nthan in Western funerals. The corpse lay on a board, shoulder-high, with\na gorgeous crimson and purple pall covering his body and limbs instead\nof a coffin. The head, wrapped tight in a napkin, rested on a pillow,\nand the features of the face stood prominently out against the sky. The\nman seemed, in an altogether gruesome way, to be _attending_ his own\nfuneral, and to be thrusting the fact of his presence on the spectators.\n\nThis may be subjective criticism, and it is always unfair to judge the\nburial-customs of other peoples without intimate knowledge of their\norigin and inner meaning. In one respect, however, it is certain enough\nthat the Shadow of Death rests upon the land of Syria. That is Fatalism.\nWe have all heard of the fatalism of the East; and strange stones have\nbecome familiar, of soldiers selling cartridges to their enemies, of\nvillagers refusing to drain the swamp that was decimating them by its\nmalaria, or even to desist from poisoning their own springs with foul\nwater. \u201cIt is Allah!\u201d ends all questioning and checks all energy. Yet\nthe constant recurrence of living instances of fatalism shocks the\ntraveller, however well he was prepared for them. A traveller asked a\nMohammedan in Damascus what they had done to the workman who upset his\nbrazier and burned the great mosque. \u201cOh nothing,\u201d said he, \u201cwhat should\nwe do?\u201d \u201cI should have thought you might have killed him.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d he\nreplied; \u201cin the West you say when such things happen, \u2018It is the\ndevil\u2019; in the East we say, \u2018It is God!\u2019\u201d Still more impressive was a\nconversation with one of the camp-servants during a long ride near\nJezreel. He had told the pathetic story of his life--how they had lived\ncomfortably till the father died, leaving no money; then came work,\nbegun too early and with no providence and little hope of success, until\nit had come to be \u201ceat, drink, sleep, then again, eat, drink,\nsleep--then die and sleep, no more eat nor drink.\u201d The Syrian character\nof the present day has been well expressed on its negative side in three\ntraits. These are, want of concentration, want of will-power, and an\nabsolute want of the sense of sin. Of sin they literally do not\nunderstand the meaning, the substitute for conscience being a dread of\nthe opinion of friends and of the public. They do not think about the\nproblem of evil as in any sense a practical problem. \u201cThe Lord said unto\nAhriman, I know why I have made thee, but thou knowest not\u201d--that is\ntheir philosophy of the moral mystery of things. Conder sums up the\nsituation in striking words: \u201cChristian villages thrive and grow, while\nthe Moslem ones fall into decay; and this difference, though due perhaps\nin part to the foreign protection which the native Christians enjoy, is\nyet unmistakably connected with the listlessness of those who believe\nthat no exertions of their own can make them richer or better, that an\niron destiny decides all things, without reference to any personal\nquality higher than that of submission to fate, and that God will help\nthose who have lost the will to help themselves.\u201d[46]\n\nThe spirit of Syria is darkened by a shadow of death that has grown not\nonly familiar but congenial, as darkness does to all who choose it\nrather than the light. Strange that Syria should thus have \u201cmade a\ncovenant with death,\u201d she from whom shone forth once the Light of the\nWorld. But that was long ago. These many centuries this has been one of\nthat sad multitude of nations and of individuals who have sent forth a\nspirit that has inspired and moved the world, and who yet themselves sit\ndesolate and listless.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE SPECTRAL\n\n\nTHE shadow of death is always haunted. A strong and pure faith peoples\nit with angels, and is accompanied through its darkness by that Good\nShepherd whose rod and staff comfort the soul. When the faith is neither\nstrong nor pure, and when those who sit in darkness have been disloyal\nto their faith, it is haunted by spectres, and its darkness becomes\npoisonous. The fascination of the marvellous passes into \u201cwhat French\nwriters call the _macabre_--that species of almost insane preoccupation\nwith our mouldering flesh, that luxury of disgust in gazing on\ncorruption.\u201d[47] This unclean spectral element is a very real part of\nthe spirit of Syria.\n\nThe spell of the East is proverbial, and it is a more literal fact than\nis sometimes realised. Even such a commonsense Englishman as the captain\nof the _Rob Roy_ confesses to a nameless fear that came upon him in the\nsolitudes of the upper Jordan.[48] There is a well-known passage in\nEothen, where Kinglake describes the calculating merchant, the\ninquisitive traveller, the wakeful post-captain all coming under the\nspell of Asia.[49] The warmth and strangeness of the land may have\nsomething to do with it; but the associations and the prevalent tone of\nthought have more. Every one feels it whose imagination and heart are in\nthe least measure open to spiritual impressions.\n\nTo analyse it or to specify the causes which have produced it were an\nimpossible task. Three things have to do with it very specially. There\nis the habit of the Eastern mind in dealing with matters of fact. Truth\nis not to the Oriental the primary moral necessity which it is to the\nWest. Vividness and forcefulness of presentation count for at least as\nmuch. The Arab story-teller is said to close his enumeration of various\nlegends with the sacramental formula, \u201cGod knows best where the truth\nlies,\u201d--the truth being a matter of God\u2019s responsibility, while to man\nis committed only responsibility for being interesting. Again, in the\nEast, terror is a recognised force between man and man; and the great\nforces of nature and the more occult forces of magic are recognised and\ntaken as part of the natural order. Religion also has had her share in\nthe \u201cGreat Asian Mystery.\u201d This land is, to most devout persons,\naltogether isolated and apart, as the place of a divine revelation such\nas no other part of earth has known. There is a passage in\n_Pseudo-Aristeas_ where, describing his supposed embassy to Jerusalem,\nhe gazes at the constant waving of the veil in the Temple, which\nscreened from his view the holiest things of Israel. As it rippled and\nswung in the wind it seemed to tantalise the gazer with the\nnever-fulfilled promise of a glimpse into the secret place.[50] The\nwistful sense of mystery in that letter gives a hint which is of\nextraordinary significance on this subject.\n\nThe geographical formation of the land and its strange colouring lend\nthemselves to the spectral and the uncanny. The Dead Sea presents the\nmost sinister landscape in the world. The opening paragraphs of Scott\u2019s\n_Talisman_, founded upon the description of Josephus, are certainly\noverdrawn, yet in truth everything conspires to produce a sense of\nghostliness by these unearthly shores. A ring of \u201cscalded hills\u201d\nencircles them, and a perpetual haze lies upon their waters. Their soil\nis nitrous and their springs sulphurous. Blocks of asphalt lie among\ntheir shingle; and fish, dead and salted, are cast up by the waves.\nThere is little life visible about them, whether of man or beast or\nbird. Here and there the tempting Apple of Sodom grows, to appearance\nthe most luscious of fruits, but so dry that its core is combustible and\nis used as tinder by the Arabs. A few feet above the summer level of the\nsea runs an unbroken line of drift-wood washed down by winter floods and\nleft white and sparkling with crusted salt.\n\nYet it was not the Dead Sea that seemed to us most unearthly, but that\nmore famous lake of which one thinks so differently. It would be a\ncurious and instructive task to collect the various impressions which\nthe Sea of Galilee has made upon travellers. Romance and piety conspire\nto furnish many of its visitors with a predisposition to find it\nsurpassingly beautiful; and not a little could be quoted which owes most\nof its touches to the imagination of the writer. A natural rebellion\nagainst this has led to no less exaggerated expressions of\ndisappointment, and to accusations of ugliness which are simply untrue.\nThe fact is that ordinary canons of description are of no avail here.\nThe Sea of Galilee, even so far as natural appearance goes, must be\njudged by itself.\n\nJourneying to it from Tabor, you ride across a rather characterless\ntract of country. A jackal, a stray Circassian horseman, a low black\ntent of the Bedawin, are the only signs of life. Suddenly the track,\nsweeping up over the farther side of a shallow and rudely cultivated\nvalley, lands you on an unexpected edge, from which the ground falls\nsheer away before you into the basin of the lake. This is not scenery;\nit is tinted sculpture, it is jewel-work on a gigantic scale. The rosy\nflush of sunset was on it when we caught the first glimpse. At our feet\nlay a great flesh-coloured cup full of blue liquor; or rather the whole\nseemed some lapidary\u2019s quaint fancy in pink marble and blue-stone. There\nwas no translucency, but an aggressive opaqueness, in sea and shore\nalike. The dry atmosphere showed everything in sharpest outline,\nclear-cut and broken-edged. There was no shading or variety of colour,\nbut a strong and unsoftened contrast. To be\n\n[Illustration: THE TOMB OF RACHEL.\n\nOn the road from Jerusalem to Hebron. It is stated in the 35th chapter\nof Genesis that Rachel died and was buried in the way to Hebron\n(Ephrath).]\n\nquite accurate, there was one break--a splash of white, with the green\nsuggestion of trees and grass, lying on the water\u2019s edge directly\nbeneath us--Tiberias.\n\nWhen, next day, we sailed upon the lake, coasting along the western\nshore from north to south, we found ourselves again as far removed from\nanything we had seen or experienced before. A casual glance showed utter\nand abject desolation, and a silence that might be heard oppressed the\nspirit. As the eye grew more accustomed, villages were discerned. But\nwhat villages! With the same exception of Tiberias, they were brown\nslabs of flat-roofed cubical hovels--let into the slope of the shore or\nthe foot-hills. And as we skirted closer along the beach, we descried\neverywhere traces of ruined architecture. It appeared to form a\ncontinuous ring of towers; columns broken and tumbled, but showing\nelaborately carved capitals; aqueducts and retaining walls; fragments of\nall sorts, and apparently of widely different styles of architecture.\nFoliage is scanty, save for the thorn-trees and bamboo canes in which\nthe carved stones are often half buried. Here and there a plantation of\norchard trees hides a trim little German garden. At Tiberias a few palm\ntrees lend their graceful suggestion of the Far East.\n\nAll this impresses one in a quite unique way. You try to reconstruct the\npast--rebuild the castles and synagogues and palaces, and imagine the\nlife that sent forth its fleets upon the lake in the days of Jesus. Or\nyou more daringly attempt the future landscape, and imagine these\nhillsides as scientific cultivation and the withdrawal of oppressive\ngovernment may yet make them. But from it all you are driven back upon\nthe extraordinary present--petrified, uncanny, spectral--a part of the\nearth on which some spell has fallen, and over which some ghostly\ninfluence broods, silencing the daylight, and whispering in the\ndarkness. If, however, this sense of the ghostly be intenser here than\nelsewhere, it is but an exaggeration of the spirit of the whole land.\n\nNature in Syria seems always to have something of the supernatural about\nher. Not only in the petrifactions of the Lejja and the silent stone\ncities east of Jordan is this the case. The whole country offers you\nstones when you ask for trees, and that mere fact of its stoniness is\nenough to lend it the air of another world. As an indirect consequence\ntrees, when they are found, assume a factitious importance, and a\nsupernatural significance either for good or evil. Some of the fairest\nplants of Syria are treacherous as they are fair. One of our company, in\ngathering sprays of a peculiarly lovely creeper, somewhat resembling a\nwhite passion-flower, had his hand wounded with invisible but virulent\nneedles which caused it to swell and gave great pain. The green spots,\nwhere grass and trees abound, tempt the unwary to drink and rest in\nthem. But they are the most dangerous places in the land, and some of\nthem are deadly from malaria. On the other hand, a tree in a treeless\ncountry is an object of preciousness inconceivable by any who have not\ncome upon it from the wilderness. In the distance it beckons the\ntraveller with the promise of shade and water. Arrived beneath its\nbranches, life takes on a new aspect; kindly voices are heard in the\nrustle of its leaves, and gracious gifts seen in its shadow and its\nfruit. It is said that our fleur-de-lis pattern, often supposed to\nrepresent the flower of the lily or the iris, is really an Eastern\nsymbol. The central stem is the sacred date-palm, while the side-lines\nand the horizontal band stand for ox-horns tied to the stem to avert the\nevil eye. It is no wonder if by the ancient Semites trees were regarded\nas demoniac beings, or as growing from the body of a buried god.[51]\nSuch traditions are no longer to be found in their ancient forms, but\nthey linger in a vague sense of the holiness of conspicuous trees, which\nmay be seen covered with rags of clothing hung on them by natives. A\nlike play of imagination has from time immemorial haunted the\npools--especially those whose dark waters made them seem\nbottomless--with holy or unholy mystery. Still more terrible is the\nsuperstitious dread with which the natives regard undrained morasses.\nThe Serbonian Bog on the south coast has from of old been regarded with\nspecial fear, owing to its treacherous appearance of sound earth. The\nmarsh in which the Abana loses itself shares with the Serbonian Bog its\ngrim distinction, chiefly on account of its deep black wells, which the\nnatives take to be man-devouring whirlpools.\n\nIn her grander and more impressive features, Nature is in Syria\nconstantly suggestive of the play of occult powers. Earthquake has left\nits mark in many a split rampart and broken tower, and that of itself\nis enough to give a peculiarly ghostly tinge to the spirit of any land.\nThe unspeakable loneliness of the desert has its own magic--a melancholy\nspell which has no parallel in other lands. In the desert, too, the sky\nconspires with the earth in its bewitchment. The mirage has power to\narrest and overawe the spirit with something of the same sense of\nhelplessness as that felt in earthquake. In the one case earth, in the\nother heaven, are turning ordinary procedure upside down, and the\nbewildered mortal knows not what is to come next upon him. The writer\nhas had experience of both, though with an interval of several years\nbetween them. The mirage he saw to the east of the Great Haj Road in\nHauran. For some time the rocky hills of the Lejja had been the horizon,\nshimmering dimly through the heat-haze. Suddenly, on looking up, he was\namazed to find that the hills had disappeared, and in their place had\ncome a long string of camels on the sky-line, with an island, a lake,\nand a grove of palm-trees floating in the air above them. The sudden\napparition recalled on the instant a day in the Antipodes when he felt,\nthough at a great distance, the tremble of the New Zealand earthquakes.\nEither experience is unearthly enough to explain many superstitions.\n\nIn most lands the sea would have yielded a larger crop of unearthly\nimaginations than has been the case in Palestine. For reasons which have\nbeen already stated, Israel kept out of touch with the ocean. Yet, all\nthe more on that account, it is the case that almost every thought she\nhas of the sea is fearsome. Its immensity bewilders her with the\nunhomely distances of the world, and the four winds strive savagely upon\nit. The roar and surge of the shore are all she needs to remember in\norder to impress herself with its terror. Now and then she thinks of the\nGreat Deep, and of its horrible inhabitants--leviathan unwieldily\nsporting there, and other nameless monsters bred of the slime and ooze,\nand the dead men who are waiting to float up from their places to the\nGreat Judgment, when their time shall come.\n\nMention of the Great Deep reminds us of yet another prolific source of\nthe spectral element in Syrian thought. It was but natural that the\nsound of underground rivers and their explanation by the theory of a\nworld founded on bottomless floods (the \u201cwaters underneath the earth\u201d),\nshould have given to the whole land an air of possession by ghostly\npowers. It may have been that same phenomenon which drew down the\nimagination of Syria to the subterranean regions, or it may also have\nbeen to some extent the hereditary greed of buried treasure, which every\nnation whose buildings have been often overturned is likely to acquire.\nWhatever be its explanation, the fact is certain that the underground\nelement is one which counts for much in the spirit of Syria. Alike in\nChristian and in pre-Christian times there seems to have been a most\nunwholesome dread of fresh air blowing about holy things. Sacred caves\nand pits were among the most characteristic properties of ancient\nSemitic religion.[52] As for Christian tradition, it seems positively to\ndread the open air. The Nativity in Bethlehem and the Agony in\nGethsemane have each their cave assigned to them, and many another site\nhas a cave either discovered or actually constructed for its\ncommemoration. Nature and history have combined to encourage the\nunderground tendency. Palestine is remarkable for the number and size of\nits natural caverns, and it is not slow to add its imaginative touch to\nthe length of them, connecting distant towns with supposed subterranean\npassages. These caves have been used as dwelling-places from very\nancient times. The strange cities of Edom and of Bashan are well known\nto all as wonders. And not in these places only, but in many other parts\nof the land, men have dwelt beneath the ground. In times of invasion,\nfor the solitude of hermit life, and in the terrors of persecution,\ncaves have offered natural places of refuge and of hiding, which have in\nmany cases been greatly enlarged by excavation. Besides those caverns\nwhose interest lies in the memory of ancient inhabitants, there are some\nof an interest whose terror is not yet departed. These are the\ncave-dwellings of lunatics, who in former times often chose the dead for\ncompany and inhabited tombs. Now, in some places they are chained in\nblack recesses of mountain caverns, where their life must be horrible\nindeed. There are also one or two caves in Syria which end in sudden\nperpendicular shafts of great depth, where adulteresses are said to meet\ntheir fate. Such modern instances may have reinforced the natural\nfascination of the occult which subterranean places offer. But there is\nsomething congenial to it in the spirit of Syria quite apart from these.\n\nIf the natural features of Syria thus tempt men towards the ghastly side\nof things, her history suggests plenty of material for superstition to\nwork upon. If the legend were true that no dew nor rain would moisten\nthe spot where a man had been murdered, Syria would be no longer an\noasis, but the driest of deserts. In a spiritual sense the legend is\ntruer than it seems. When, in his _Laughing Mill_, Julian Hawthorne\nworks out the idea of a mystic sympathy in Nature with crimes that have\nbeen done by man, he is reminding us of something which every one of\nsensitive spirit has more or less clearly felt. In Nathaniel Hawthorne\u2019s\nsubtler tales the same idea is worked out in a fashion still more\nconvincing. There are times and places when it is difficult to resist\nthe conviction that the material world, in its dumb, unconscious way, is\nyet burdened with the weight of man\u2019s evil deeds. In Syria one can\nalmost hear \u201cthe groaning and travailing of the whole creation.\u201d It\nseems to be a land waiting the hour of its release, and meanwhile\nshrouded in deeper mystery than any other land. Something has happened\nhere, you feel, which never happened elsewhere; something is going to\nhappen here again, when the time shall come.\n\nNothing could better attest this fact than the extraordinary wealth of\nlegend in Syria. Fragments of Bible story, changed and often distorted\nby those who have retold them, are met with every day. Sometimes a story\nhas passed from Jews to Christians and from Christians to Mohammedans,\nincreasing steadily in marvellousness and decreasing in verisimilitude\nas it passed. Samson, Goliath, and the prophet Jonah are notable cases\nin point. A Mohammedan weli marks the spot where the latter was thrown\nashore; but the inventors of this legend have been inconsiderate. The\nweli stands at the bend of a shallow sandy beach, where the whale must\neither have itself come ashore to deposit the prophet, or have projected\nhim a distance of at least a hundred yards. A very curious instance of a\nsimilar kind is that of the fall of Jericho as narrated in Joshua vi.\nConder gives two legends, both of which are obviously elaborated forms\nof that account. One of these is a Samaritan story of iron walls, and\nthe other a Mohammedan one of a city of brass whose walls fell after\nAly, the son-in-law of Mohammed, had ridden seven times round them.[53]\nStill more curious is a legend related by the same author, which looks\nlike a Mohammedan version of the Wandering Jew. It tells how, at Abila,\nCain was allowed to lay down the corpse of his brother Abel after\ncarrying it for a hundred years. The whole story of the Herods has\ninfested the region of their crimes with the ghosts of their victims. In\nSamaria the murdered Mariamne still seems to dwell in her honey, and\nHerod and his servants to call her by name and force the pretence that\n\n[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF HINNOM WITH THE HILL OF OFFENCE\n\nThe upper portion of the picture to the left is the Hill of Offence,\nwith the village of Siloam on its lower slopes.]\n\nshe is yet alive. The land is sick with ancient crimes whose blood\n\u201ccrieth from the ground.\u201d\n\nThe religions of the land seem to be in league with the powers of\ndarkness for the propagation of magic lore. It is an extraordinary fact\nthat Syria has sent forth to the ends of the earth a religion that is\nthe Eternal Word of God to mankind, and yet herself has reverted to the\nreligious conceptions of ancient Semitic paganism. One of the most\nfundamental of these conceptions was that of a religion whose essential\nelement is not belief but ritual.[54] While in the West the free play of\nreason has tested and interpreted Israel\u2019s faith, and discovered in it\nthe unique revelation of the living God to man, the worshippers in the\nHoly Land itself seem to treat that same faith wholly as a department of\nmagic lore. Certain rites have to be performed, no matter how\nunintelligently, and that is all. All creeds alike share the blame of\nthis. Druse and Samaritan, Jew, Christian, and Mohammedan vie with one\nanother to-day in the poor ambition of making the religion of Jehovah\ncontemptible in the eyes of thinking men who investigate it as it is\npractised on its native soil.\n\nMuch of the magic of the East is decadent or decayed religion. On rare\noccasions a marriage superstition may be met with, such as the\nforetelling of marriage destinies by tying green twigs with one\nhand,[55] which appears to be the creation of pure romance. But the\ngreat majority of those superstitions which hold the Eastern mind in\nbondage are evidently relics of pagan thought incorporated now in\nJewish, Christian, or Moslem creeds, and absorbing all the interest of\nthose who believe in them. If a Mohammedan saint\u2019s bones flew through\nthe air from Damascus to Mount Ebal, the Christians can match the\nmiracle and more, for was not the very house of the Virgin carried off\nby angels from Nazareth to Loreto lest the Moslems should desecrate it?\nMagic dominates the mind of the East and explains everything there to\nthis day. Every inscribed stone runs the chance either of being honoured\nby a place in the wall of a dwelling or of being heated with fire and\nsplit with water, according to the sort of magic it is supposed to\nrepresent. It is difficult to realise that the men you converse with are\nactually living in the world of Tasso\u2019s _Gerusalemme Liberata_, where a\ndealer in black art, by his incantation,\n\n unbinds the demons of the deep to do\n Deeds without name, or chains them in his cell,\n And makes e\u2019en Pluto pale upon the throne of hell.\n\nYet such is undoubtedly the case. Even the saddle-bags you buy at\nJerusalem--those gorgeous labyrinths of shells and tassels--have a blue\nbead concealed somewhere in them to return the stare of any evil eye\nthat may look upon your horse. To avert the same danger you will see\nlittle boys dressed in girls\u2019 clothes, and specially pretty children\nkept dirty and untidy. Lest the dreaded eye should blight the fortunes\nof a newborn babe the Jewish Rabbis sometimes hang up the 121st Psalm\non the wall over mother and child. Magic is as useful a substitute for\nscience as it is for religion. It explains any phenomenon and clears up\nany mystery without the trouble of investigation. All great buildings\nmust have been built by enchantment, so what is the use of speculating\nas to their architecture? Western civilisation is, no doubt, a\nremarkable affair, but it never occurs to an unsophisticated Syrian that\nit is a matter for energetic emulation. The Frank has only been lucky\nenough to learn the proper spell. It is easy to see how Syria, with such\nviews as these, is doomed at once to moral and intellectual stagnation.\n\nThe vivid mind of the East is fertile in poetic imagination. Restless\nand quick itself, it cannot conceive the Universe otherwise than as\nliving around it. Everything is alive and aware. All inanimate things\nare personified; or, to speak more accurately, they are inhabited by\nspiritual beings. Natural phenomena express the purposes of minds hidden\nbehind them. Every dangerous or adverse experience is regarded as the\nwork of malice. Human life is beset with ambushed spiritual enemies. The\nadvantage which their invisibility gives to these over the human\ncombatants would be enough to put fighting out of the question, were it\nnot that so many of the spirits are of feeble intelligence and may be\nhoodwinked; while all of them have other spirits for their enemies who\nmay be enlisted on man\u2019s side against them. These spirits are of many\nkinds, but they may be classed in two groups, according to their\nconnection with natural phenomena or with death.\n\nChief of the former group are the angels, good and bad; and the jinn, or\ngenii, whom Islam took over from the ancient paganism of Arabia. The\nangels are God\u2019s attendants, and have some functions entirely\nindependent of natural phenomena. Thus the two stones which mark a\nMoslem\u2019s grave show the stations of the angels who are to examine him;\nand the tuft of hair on his shaven head is (like the Jewish sidelocks)\nto enable the Angel Gabriel to bear the man to heaven. Yet the angels\nare in many instances personified parts of nature, guardians of the\nland, spirits of wind or fire or water, who are obviously the\ndescendants and the heirs of the ancient local gods.[56] Thus the wicked\nangels are supposed to have descended on Mount Hermon, and to have sworn\ntheir oaths there--a belief which adds considerably to the importance of\nthe great mountain in Syrian estimation. The jinn are the demons of the\ndesert, lordly and terrible to all who have not the charm which masters\nthem, obedient as little children to those who have it. They are the\ninhabitants of those whirling sandstorms which sweep across the waste.\nSome superstitions of this kind may be connected with the former dangers\nfrom wild beasts, which used to haunt the jungles of lower Jordan and\nswarm up to the inland territories after an invasion had depopulated\nthem. Even now there may be seen in Palestine an occasional wolf or\nleopard, to say nothing of the jackals which every traveller is sure to\nsee. Some of the fauna of Palestine are in themselves so strange as to\nsuggest unearthly affinities. The jerboa, for instance, the jumping\nmouse of the desert, merits Browning\u2019s description of him, when in\n_Saul_ he says, \u201cthere are none such as he for a wonder, half bird and\nhalf mouse.\u201d The lizards, too, seem anything but ordinary respectable\nlaw-abiding animals as they twinkle to and fro among the ruins of old\nbuildings. It is said that Mohammed refused to eat lizards, considering\nthat they were the metamorphosed spirits of Israelites.\n\nThe spirits that haunt sepulchres are either ghosts of the dead or\nghouls that prey upon their flesh. It is this class of apparition which\nappears to have the strongest fascination for the Syrian mind; and its\ngraveyard lore is the natural sequel to the morbid interest in death\nwhich formed the subject of our preceding chapter. Conder, whose book\ngives much interesting information on this whole subject, found it\ndifficult to keep any Arabs about him at Fus\u00e2il, a few miles north of\nJericho, because of their fear of a ghoul in the ruins, who might chance\nto desire a change of food were he to see them there. The dead appear to\nhave undergone a change for the worse in dying. The utmost caution and\npoliteness are required to prevent their ghosts from doing harm to the\nvisitors at their tombs, even in the case of men who, while in the body,\nwere hospitable and friendly persons. Some localities are regarded as\npeculiarly dangerous, among which is the reputed site of the stoning of\nStephen and (according to Gordon) of Calvary, near Jerusalem. An Arab\nwriter of the Middle Ages advises the traveller not to pass that haunted\nspot at night.[57]\n\nIf, under ordinary conditions, life in Syria is overshadowed and\nhaunted, the dread becomes far greater when disease has come. The\nexplanation of disease is the same easy one as that which has deadened\nscience and distorted religion--magic again. Even when the true cause of\nillness has been guessed, it has to be explained in ghostly language.\nWhen plague has broken out in a locality the Jewish Rabbis make the\nneighbours of the stricken house empty all jars and vessels, saying that\n\u201cthe angel of death wipes his sword in liquids.\u201d The malaria of swamps\nis set down to the same cause, and it is probable that many of that\nmixed multitude who are to be seen sitting chin deep in the hot\nsulphur-springs of Gadara or Tiberias regard their cure as due to some\nlocal spirit who happens to be benevolently inclined. In the\nneighbourhood of the tomb of a Mohammedan saint, every accident or\nailment is regarded as the work of the dead man. Indeed the main idea of\nSyrian medical science is that all or most sickness is possession by\ndemons, and a common cure is to bore or burn holes in the patient\u2019s\nflesh, by which the evil spirit may escape. The treatment of lunacy is\nperhaps the saddest case in point. Until Mr. Waldmeyer built his asylum\nat Beyrout, there was but one mode of treatment. At certain monasteries\nthere are caves in which the insane are chained below huge stones, with\nhardly space for movement, and are kept there for days in hunger and\nfilth, in order to drive out the devil. The test for devil-possession is\nsomewhat crude. The patient is shewn a cross. If he turns from it and\nrefuses to look he is possessed; if he shews no aversion to it he is\nonly unwell and is allowed to go. In the Beyrout asylum we were told\nthat no case of lunacy had been discovered which in any way differed\nfrom the European types of the same disease. The record of cures there,\nunder the same treatment as that which is practised in the West, is a\nmost encouraging and hopeful one.\n\nIt is true that the bright spirit of the East with its rapid changes and\nits unquenchable sparkle of gaiety, has mitigated the horror and\noppressiveness of the spectral there. There are times when one would\nalmost fancy that the whole of their superstition was a pretence which\nwas never meant to be taken seriously. In Damascus, and probably\nelsewhere, you may buy little rag-dolls supposed to resemble camels.\nThey are made of bones, covered with patches of many-coloured cloth, and\ntricked out with tinsel and strings of beads. We bought two of these\nfrom a young girl in \u201cthe street called Straight\u201d for half a franc, and\nbore them through the city with a crowd of idlers following us. We\nlearned afterwards that these were cunning devices to cheat the ghosts.\nWhen you are very sick or in danger you vow a camel to your saint or\nfriendly spirit--this is how you pay your vow. Poking fun at Hades in\nthis fashion might seem a dangerous game, and one hardly to be\nrecommended while any lingering belief in the reality of ghosts\nremained. Yet such is Syrian character. This sort of thing persists\nalong with a deep horror of the other world. The words of Job are not in\nthe least out of date in Palestine to-day: \u201cFear came upon me, and\ntrembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before\nmy face; the hair of my flesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not\ndiscern the form thereof; an image was before mine eyes: there was\nsilence, and I heard a voice.\u201d[58] The horror is all the deeper because\nit appears to be seldom brought to clear statement. The spectral world\nis undefined, and it has, therefore, all the added power of the unknown,\nwhose play upon the imagination is so much more strong and subtle than\nthat of any clear conception, however ghastly.\n\nIn this chapter no attempt has been made to distinguish between the\nsuperstitions of Jews, Christians, and Mohammedans in Palestine. As a\nmatter of fact, there is little to choose between them, and they have\nmuch in common. It is true that every nation has some outlook or other\nupon the world of spirits. But each has its own way of regarding the\napparitions; and the kind of spectre which a land believes in is no bad\nindication of the tone of the land\u2019s thought and character. About the\nfairy-lore of Teutonic nations there is a child-like simplicity and\npurity which make\n\n[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF HINNOM, WITH THE HILL OF OFFENCE.\n\nThe upper portion of the picture to the left is the Hill of Offence,\nwith the village of Siloam on its lower slopes.]\n\nthat lore wholly refreshing and precious. The nymphs and Pan, whose\nancient monuments we have seen in ancient Palestine, were graceful. But\nthe spectral element in modern Palestine appears to be almost wholly\nmorbid and unclean,--the further decadence of a land that has made its\ncovenant with death. The life a Syrian peasant leads to-day is haunted\nby ghostly terrors; it is a life led by leave of the dead, or by a\nsystematic cunning which plays off one malign spirit against another, or\nsucceeds in winning a point or two against the grave for the player. It\nis a view of life than which surely none can be at once more impudent\nand more melancholy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE LAND OF THE CROSS\n\n\nIt is a sad view of the spirit of Syria which the last chapters have\noffered, yet it is but too true. We must linger yet a little longer\nlistening to \u201cthe sob of the land\u201d before we turn to that which is at\nonce the explanation and the hope of relief for its long sorrow. Apart\naltogether from the ghostly elements in this land of ruins, the mere\nmelancholy is persistent and depressing as one moves from place to\nplace. The gloom is so ominous, as to be at times suggestive of a\nsupernatural curse that broods upon everything with its depressing\nweight. The khans outside of villages are in ruins; so are the bridges\nover streams, and the castles on the hills. Amid such scenery it is\nnatural to remember the defeats rather than the glories of the past, and\nthe national history seems to be one long record of misfortune. In the\nmodern conditions of life in Palestine the long story of tears and blood\nseems to be continued in the haggard desolation of its present.\n\nTwo things especially must send this impression home even to the most\ncasual observer, viz. the heartlessness of toil and the prevalence of\ndisease. In every country much must always depend on the spirit in which\nmen labour. Where the walls of its cities rise to music, as the old glad\nlegends told of Troy and Thebes, there is hope and promise; but here\nthere is no song to help men\u2019s toil. It is hard and joyless, with little\npromise and less hope. With the death of these self-respect also dies;\nand work, without incentives to anything which might tempt ambition,\nremains merely as a hard necessity and a curse.\n\nNext to its heartless toil the uncured sickness of the land contributes\nto the deep sadness of its spirit. Disease seems to stare you everywhere\nin the face. Superstition and fatalism combined have blocked all\nprogress in medical science. The people are naturally healthy; and their\nstrong constitutions, kept firm by plain living, yield to medical\ntreatment in a marvellous way. But when any serious accident has\nhappened, or any dangerous disease infected them, they are utterly\nhelpless, and things take their course. The medicinal springs form an\nexception to this rule, and seem to be the one real healing agency in\nthe country. Their bluish waters bubble with sulphuretted hydrogen, and\nsmell abominably, but they cure sicknesses of some kinds. For other\ndiseases there is no native cure. Those which are most in evidence are\nulcers and inflammatory diseases of the eyes. The natives appear to be\nimmune so far as malaria is concerned; but a peculiar kind of decline is\nnot uncommon, in which the emaciation is so great as to reduce the\npatient to the appearance of a skeleton, with great lustrous eyes. It\nneed hardly be said that the characteristic disease of Syria is leprosy.\nThe first object which attracts the eye after you arrive at the railway\nstation of Jerusalem is an immense leper hospital. In a case which\ncreated some sensation lately in the south of England, it turned out\nthat a fraudulent Syrian had been raising money for a non-existent\nhospital at Tirzah, which was to accommodate eleven thousand lepers. Of\ncourse the figure was a monstrous one, but the fact that it was invented\nshews how terrible a scourge this is. It is a curious circumstance that\nthe inhabitants of towns do not contract leprosy. It appears in\nvillages, and the sufferers are at once driven out, to wander to the\nlarger towns, outside of which they settle in communities or beg by the\nwayside. The view of the north-east end of Jerusalem from the Mount of\nOlives shews a roadside which is always dotted with these pitiable folk.\nFor many travellers this is the road of their first journey from the\ncity, leading over Olivet to Bethany, and they are not likely to forget\nthat ride. Lepers, in all stages of hideous decay, line the roadside;\nreal or sham paralytics sprawl and shake in the middle of the path, so\nthat the horses have actually to pick their way among the bodies of\nthem. The epileptics appear to be frauds. Their faces are covered, but\nthey see what is going on well enough to stop shaking when the horses\nhave passed. The leprosy is all too real. Arms covered with putrid\nsores, hands from which the fingers have one after another fallen off,\nand husky voices begging from throats already half eaten out--these\ncannot be imitated.\n\nAs to the causes of Syrian disease, and leprosy in particular, there\nseems to be much obscurity. Perhaps the word that comes nearest to an\nexplanation is uncleanness, and the promise of \u201ca fountain opened for\nsin and for uncleanness\u201d may have a physical as well as a spiritual\nsignificance. The land is incredibly contaminated with filth, as the\nfollowing quotation shews: \u201cSir Charles Warren tells us that the soil in\nwhich he made some of his excavations was so saturated with disease\ngerms that his workmen were often attacked with fever, especially if\nthey had any sore or scratch on their hands.\u201d[59] It would be hard to\nfind words more significant than these.\n\nFor this state of matters, and for its continuance from generation to\ngeneration, many reasons may be given. The usual explanation of the\nwhole is the government, with its soldiers and its taxation. The wild\nnotes of Turkish bugle-calls answering each other across Jerusalem sound\nharsh, and as it were blasphemous, and further travel deepens the\nresentment rather than removes it. When, behind all the present evils,\none remembers the past, with its massacres and all its other iniquities,\none\u2019s heart grows hot. One Syrian, after narrating a specially\naggravated case of oppression, asked us if we knew \u201cthe story of the\nprophets Ananias and Sapphira.\u201d We said we had heard it; and he added,\n\u201cAh, in _those_ days God punished at once; now, _God waits_!\u201d Dr.\nThomson somewhere quotes a proverb to the effect that, \u201cWherever the\nhoof of a Turkish horse rests it leaves barrenness behind it\u201d; and all\nthat is seen in Syria tends to prove that saying but too true. Every\npossible experiment in misgovernment seems to have been made here.\nFrequent change of governors, underpayment of officials, conscription of\nthe most ruinous sort, bribery, cruelty, fanaticism, laziness,\nsensuality, and stupidity--all are to be seen open and without pretence\nat concealment.\n\nYet in the interest of truth it ought to be remembered that there is\nanother side to the story. The incident of the horse at Banias[60] made\none understand how a Turk might answer his critics, with some show of\nreason, that this was the only sort of government these people could\nunderstand. Of course it might be again replied that it was oppression\nthat had brought this about. Yet it is perfectly clear that Syrian\ncharacter is very far from that of martyred innocence. From whatever\ncauses it has come about, the fact is certain that in many respects the\nmoral sense of Palestine is as depraved as that of her oppressors. Her\nworst enemy is her own wickedness.\n\nThus many elements enter into the desolation of the Holy Land, and make\nit a place of decaying body and of shiftless spirit, but of all these\nelements the ethical is supreme. The very look of the country suggests\nthis. It is not merely stony; as has been cleverly said, it seems to\nhave been _stoned_--stoned to death for its sins. The loose boulders of\nJudea, and the scattered ruins of old vineyard terraces and village\nwalls, present all the appearance of flung missiles. This view of the\ncase is acknowledged freely by the inhabitants themselves, in whose\nthoughts judgment has a prominent place. The buried cities of Sodom and\nGomorrah are favourite subjects of reflection with disciples of all the\ncreeds. A somewhat similar story is told of the Lake of Phiala, a\nvolcanic mountain lake south of Hermon. Tradition tells of a village\nsubmerged below its waters \u201cto punish the inhabitants for their\ninhospitable treatment of travellers,\u201d and there are many other stories\nof judgment in the country. Yet the judgment always falls upon some one\nelse than the narrator of the story, who would not insult your\nintelligence by supposing that you thought _him_ in need of judgment.\nEven in the familiar quotations from the litany chanted by the Jews at\ntheir Wailing-Place, the confession of sin is conspicuous by its\nabsence. There is sore mourning over the departed glories of the land,\nbut the only sins confessed are those of priests and kings long dead. To\nall creeds alike the essential element in religion seems to be ritual\nperformance, and the ideal life is accordingly not one of ethical\ncharacter but of formal correctness. And yet in the midst of all this\nself-righteous complacency, any one can see that every part of the land\nis being judged and is bearing the punishment of sin. Jericho, squatting\nsordidly amid the ruins of its ancient Hellenism, looked down upon by\nthe severe and barren mountain where Jesus hungered, is a monument of\nthe reality of ethical distinctions as hard and practical facts. They\nmay be ignored, but they must be reckoned with in the end.\n\nOf the ethical significance of the fate of Palestine there cannot be a\nmoment\u2019s doubt. It is here that the love and care of God have been met\nand foiled by the sin and carelessness of man. In regard to its whole\nmoral and social life, there is one overmastering conviction which grows\nupon the traveller from day to day. That conviction is, that it is a\nland which requires and demands righteousness. Nature and man are in\nclose touch, and each depends upon the other. It is not a desert, where\nno amount of labour can produce result; nor is it a luxuriant tropical\ncountry whose fruits fall ripe and untoiled for into man\u2019s hand. It\ndemands labour, but it answers to it. The least effort of man to be a\nman and do his human work meets with immediate and generous response.\nNeglected plains and valleys, once rich, are now a wilderness; the most\nunpromising hillsides, where terracing and irrigation\n\n[Illustration: THE ROCK-CUT TOMBS OF THE VALLEY OF JEHOSHAPHAT.\n\nThese tombs are opn the eastern side of the alley facing the East Wall\nof the Temple Area.]\n\nhave kept the human side of the compact, are fertile. The labour would\nindeed require to be hard and unremitting. Many of the streams are so\ndeep sunk in their channels that extraordinary enterprise would be\nneeded to raise their waters for irrigation or to conduct them from\nhigher levels in long conduits. Yet every remaining arch of an old\naqueduct, and every watermill whose wheel thuds round in its heavy way,\nshew that such enterprise is possible. Each of those grooved and\ncheckered valleys where men with their naked feet open and close the\nlittle gates of clay, and water the fat crops of onion and tomato, shews\nhow sure is the reward of enterprise. Similarly the terracing reminds us\nthat soil is as precious as water. Both must be laboured for and fought\nfor. It is the desert that naturally claims the land and sets the normal\npoint of view for its inhabitants. Syria is an oasis by the grace of God\nand the toil of man.\n\nThis alone would suffice to make Palestine an ideal training-ground for\na nation to learn righteousness. The whole theory of Providence which\ndominates the earlier Old Testament, and lingers on in popular belief\nthrough the New, is apparent on every mile of these valleys. That theory\nwas that even in the present life the sin of man will be immediately\npunished by adversity, and his righteousness rewarded by prosperity. It\nwas a theory which had to be abandoned, and the whole marvellous story\nof Job shews us the process of the nation\u2019s discarding it. To us it\nseems wonderful that it should have been able to survive at all in face\nof the inexplicable and at times apparently irrational facts of all\nhuman experience. But the fact that in Syria nature\u2019s rewards and\npunishments are so certain and so immediate goes far to explain both its\norigin and its persistence.\n\nSuch thoughts as these regarding Syria inevitably lead towards one goal.\nThere is but one symbol in the world which expresses all that depth of\npain which we have found in the history of this sorely-tried land, and\nat the same time forces on even the most thoughtless its moral\nsignificance. That symbol is the Cross of Christ. It is still to be seen\nvery frequently in Syria, generally in its Greek form ([Illustration:\ncross]). In this form it is more impressive than in the other. The\noblique lower bar represents a board nailed across the shaft for the\nfeet of the sufferer to rest on. The realistic effect of this is\nsurprising, for it brings home to one\u2019s imagination in a quite new way\nthe terrible fact that men have actually been crucified.\n\nThe later history and legend of the cross in Palestine is one of\nsingular and tragic interest. First of all there is the preposterous\nstory of St. Helena\u2019s dream--the miraculous discovery of the three\ncrosses, and the miracle of healing which enabled her to distinguish the\ncross of Christ from those of the robbers. Since then the sacred wood\nhas been tossed about from hand to hand, hunted for, bargained for\nsinned for, died for. Its presence in their army comforted the Crusaders\nin their misery; the sight of it in the hands of the Saracens filled\nthem with despair. The restoration of it was among the chief demands\nconceded by Saladin when he surrendered Acre to Richard; and when he\nfailed to deliver it, hostages to the number of 2700 were slaughtered in\nsight of the Saracen camp. All through the Crusades it was the badge of\nself-devotion to the holy wars, and a strange tale is told of an\noccasion on which Louis IX., presenting robes to his courtiers according\nto an ancient custom, had crosses secretly embroidered on them, so that\nthe wearers found themselves committed unawares to the Crusade.\n\nFor 1500 years that symbol pointed to the site which the buildings of\nthe Church of the Holy Sepulchre cover. Godfrey was buried there, and\nmany a devout soul regarded it as the holiest of holy places. In the\nmiddle of the nineteenth century the question of its authenticity was\nraised; and General Gordon, who spent part of the last year before he\nwent to Khartoum, in Jerusalem, championed the identification of the\nhill of Jeremiah\u2019s Grotto, just outside the Damascus Gate, with Calvary.\nHis point of view was a strange one. It was suggested by the words\n\u201cplace of a skull,\u201d from which he developed the idea of the Holy City as\nthe body of the bride of Christ, this hill being the head, Zion the\npleura, and so on. The theory, so far as it regards Calvary, has\nappealed to many competent judges who were very far from adopting the\nmystical and emblematic views of Gordon. The hill is an old quarry,\nwithin which Jeremiah is supposed by tradition to have written his\nLamentations. It is quite a little hill, whose short and scanty grass\nwas burnt up with drought when we saw it, leaving a surface of loose\nsandy soil. A man crucified here would have the Mount of Olives in his\neyes behind some roof-lines of the city. By a curious coincidence a\nrock-hewn tomb, with a groove running in front of the face of it for a\ngreat stone which would close its entrance, has been discovered close\nby. It is a grave with only one loculus in it, and it is temptingly like\none\u2019s idea of the Garden Tomb of Joseph; but it is said to be\nundoubtedly of later date than the death of Jesus. From one point in the\nroad, somewhat nearer the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the hollows and caves\nof the hill, which here breaks along its length into a small precipice,\nbear a striking resemblance to a chapfallen skull. Not that the features\ncan be examined in anything like accurate detail. But in the evening,\nwhile the sun sets over Jerusalem and the shadows slowly deepen, the\nresemblance is sufficient to strike one who had not heard that this was\nthe place so named. Many arguments have been urged for this new site.\nIts proximity to an ancient Jewish cemetery is in favour of the\nprobability that Joseph\u2019s tomb was there. It was close to the public\nhighway, as Calvary undoubtedly was. It is also significant that the\ngate now known as the Damascus Gate was formerly called St. Stephen\u2019s\nGate; and tradition affirmed that through it St. Stephen was led forth\nto his martyrdom. It is probable that the martyrdom took place on the\npublic execution-ground, where, in the natural course of events, Jesus\nand the robbers would also have been crucified. Finally, and most\nimportant, recent explorations have discovered, in various parts of the\ncity, huge Jewish stones which are believed by advocates of this theory\nto be those of the wall which stood there in the time of Christ. By\ncompleting the line of these stones a wall is reconstructed which\nencloses the traditional Church of the Holy Sepulchre, while it leaves\nGordon\u2019s site still outside. To get the Holy Sepulchre outside this\nwall, as we know the place of the crucifixion was, it would be necessary\nto imagine a sharp angular recess in the wall pointing inwards, with\nCalvary filling the space within the arms of the angle. It matters\nlittle where the spot was. Yet it would be interesting if the north side\nof the city should ultimately claim Him from the west--Nazareth, as it\nwere, from Rome. The garden and the new grave belong to an English\ncommittee of trustees endowed in 1901. It would indeed be a striking\nthing if, after all the idolatry of sites which the vision of St. Helena\nstarted, the real hill and garden where the world\u2019s great tragedy was\nenacted should prove to have gone past Roman and Greek worshippers both,\nand to have been committed to the hands of Protestants.[61]\n\nNo one who has stood upon that hill of Golgotha and thought of the\nwondrous past can have failed to perceive a mystical and dark connection\nbetween the crime which has rendered Jerusalem so famous, and all that\ndeathly and spectral fate which has befallen the spirit of Syria. As we\nstand amid the deepening shadows of sunset on the spot where Christ was\ncrucified, a change seems to come, as the blood-red sky crimsons the\nminarets and domes. It is no longer Christ that hangs upon the Cross,\nbut Palestine. No other land would have crucified Him. Had He come to\nGreece He might have been neglected or ridiculed, but certainly not\ncrucified. For that it needed a religion as bitterly earnest, and at the\nsame time as morally decayed, as Judaism was then. And that same moral\nand spiritual condition which set up the Cross for Jesus, has finished\nits course by crucifying the nation that murdered Him. Most literally\nthis happened in the days when Titus used up all the trees near\nJerusalem to make crosses for Jews. But in Sir John Mandeville\u2019s time\nthe legend had expanded to this, that at the Crucifixion all the trees\nin the world withered and died. Certainly a blight came upon the land of\nPalestine. It has sometimes been asserted that the nation which\ncrucified Jesus Christ can never again rise to national prosperity or\ngreatness. The forces at work in history are far too subtle and complex\nto allow any one to say with assurance what the future may or may not\nhave in store for a race. But this at least is evident, that meanwhile\nthe Cross has marked this region for its own; the land is everywhere on\nits Cross, and the obvious cause of this is the want of righteousness,\nboth in oppressors and oppressed. It is a land that cries aloud for\nrighteousness in its agony.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nRESURRECTION\n\n\nIn regard to the future of Palestine the outlook of different writers\nvaries perhaps as much as upon any similar question that could be named.\nEvery one is familiar with the Utopian dreams which optimistic\nconstructors of programmes cherish regarding it. On the other hand,\ngrave and thoughtful writers have sometimes felt the misery of its\npresent state so heavily as to abandon all hope for the future, and to\nacknowledge the most discouraging views as to the possibilities before\nthe land. Apart from sentiment, or from some favourite method of\ninterpreting prophecy, the reasons for such pessimism are mainly two.\nOne is the change of climate, which appears from many indications to be\nan unquestionable fact. The other is the destruction of terraces, and\nthe consequent washing away of soil from the higher regions of the\ncountry. These are serious considerations, which cannot be ignored. If\nthis view be the correct one, the only permanent continuance of Syria\nwill be as a symbol of judgment, a kind of Lot\u2019s-wife pillar among the\npeoples, a sermon in stone upon the ethical principles which govern the\nfortunes of nations. The land will remain as a proverb, but will never\nagain be a home.\n\nYet neither these nor any other such forebodings seem to the ordinary\nobserver quite to be justified. If the climate has changed, may not that\nbe due to causes that can be remedied? By proper drainage of swamps and\nplanting of trees, it would seem perfectly possible to modify climatic\nconditions to an extent at least sufficient to allow the hope of\nprosperous agriculture and pleasant habitation. As to the terraces, if\nthey have been constructed once they may be reconstructed with hope of\nresult. There are tracts even in the desert itself where traces of\nformer cultivation may still be seen. If the uncivilised or\nsemi-barbarous tribes of the ancient time built up the land until\nhandfuls of corn waved on the tops of mountains, surely it is not too\nmuch to expect that men armed with all the skill and appliance of modern\nengineering may yet repeat the process. The instance of Malta has been\nalready cited; and, apart from that it is a very dusty world, and soil\naccumulates as if by magic where man provides for it a place to rest on.\n\nIt seems rash in one little qualified for the task to pronounce judgment\nof any sort on the future of Palestine, yet the conviction that all is\nnot over with the land grows stronger, rather than weaker, with\nreflection. Renan speaks of \u201cthe little kingdom of Israel, which was in\nthe highest degree creative, but did not know how to crown its edifice.\u201d\nPut in another\n\n[Illustration: THE NORTH-EAST END OF JERUSALEM AND MIZPAH, FROM THE\nMOUNT OF OLIVES.\n\nThe mountain above the city to the north, with mosque and minaret on its\nsummit, is the point from which the Crusaders had their first view of\nJerusalem.]\n\nform, this means that the Holy Land is a land of prophecies unfulfilled\nor half-fulfilled. But each such prophecy was an inspiration, by which\nthe highest men saw possibilities for the nation, whose conditions the\nlower men failed to realise or to fulfil. Yet the possibilities were\nthere, as to a great extent they still are there, and, as Coningsby puts\nit, \u201cthe East is a career.\u201d As to what those possibilities and that\ncareer may actually be, the past history of the land may guide our\nspeculation. Here, as elsewhere, the lines of hope for the future are\npointed out by the failures of the past. The failure has been due to bad\nmorality and disloyalty to religious faith; the hope of success lies in\nethical and religious regeneration.\n\nWhen we sought for an explanation of the misery of Palestine we were\nthrown back on the ethical aspect of the case. Had the land been\nfaithful to her high calling her story would have been very different.\nNever was a country honoured with so lofty a trust as hers; never did a\ncountry so often betray her trust. This was the despair of her ancient\nlawgiver, and the burden of her later prophets. When Christ came to her,\nshe knew no better thing to do with Him than to break His heart and to\ncrucify Him on Calvary. Within the century Jerusalem was crucified in\nturn; and soon a Christian Syria took the place of the perished Judaism.\nThat in its turn decayed. Its creed became artificial, its spirit\neffeminate, and its morality corrupt. The spirit of Christianity had\nsunk so low in Palestine before the Mussulman occupation as to manifest\nits zeal by using every effort to defile that part of the Temple area\nwhich they regarded as the Jewish Holy of Holies. The young faith of\nIslam, fresh and vigorous, and not as yet embittered, made an easy\nconquest of the effete religion, which has lived since then on\nsufferance, lamenting its sufferings, but never realising its desert of\nthem. To this day the Christian travelling in Syria is oppressed by the\nsense of its desertion. Christ has forsaken the desolate shores of the\nSea of Galilee. He walks no more in the streets of Jerusalem. It is the\nold story--\u201cThey besought Him that He would depart out of their coasts,\nand He entered into a ship, and passed over and came unto His own city.\u201d\n\nYet somehow it is impossible to believe that He has gone from the land\nof His earthly home for ever. An incident which occurred to us in\nDamascus dwells in our memory with prophetic significance. We had\nvisited the Great Mosque, which rose upon the ruins of an ancient\nChristian church. The original walls were not entirely demolished, and\namong the parts built into the new structure was a beautiful gate on\nwhose lintel may still be deciphered the Greek inscription, \u201cThy\nkingdom, O Christ, is an everlasting kingdom, and Thy dominion endureth\nthroughout all generations.\u201d To see this inscription we climbed a ladder\nin the Jewellers\u2019 Bazaar. At the height of some fifteen feet we stepped\nupon a ledge of rather precarious masonry, and after a short scramble\nalong this came to the lintel, half concealed by a rubble wall running\ndiagonally across it. A stranger was with us, a devout Christian from a\ntown far south of Damascus. In the whole city nothing moved him so\ndeeply as this stone, and he exclaimed, \u201cIt was the Christians\u2019\nfault--they were so rough, so rude, so ignorant--it was done by the wish\nof God--_but He will have it again_.\u201d And He _will_ have it again,\nsooner or later! When Omar heard that Mohammed was dead he would not\nbelieve it, but proclaimed in the Mosque of Medina, \u201cThe Prophet has\nonly swooned away!\u201d But Mohammed had died, and it is his dead hand that\nhas held the land these thirteen centuries. Christ, being raised from\nthe dead, dieth no more; and the future of the land lies with Christ. To\nthe Western world He has fulfilled His tremendous claim, \u201cI am the\nresurrection and the life,\u201d not only in the hope of immortality, but in\nthe spring and impulse which His faith has given to national ideals. It\nis impossible not to hope for a fulfilment of the promise to the land\nwhere it was first spoken. Looking down from Tabor upon the hill of\nD\u00fbhy, one has sight of Endor to the east, while Shunem lies just round\nthe western slope, and between them is the village of Nain. It is as if\nthat hill were a sanctuary from Death, where the grave could not hold\nits own. Palestine holds in trust for the world those empty graves, and\none grave above all others from which He Himself came forth. Surely she,\ntoo, will rise, by His grace, in a faith and character purer than those\nwhich she has lost.\n\nIt would be impossible, within our present limits, to say anything of\nthe political or national outlook of Syria, or of the many schemes and\nagencies which are dealing with such problems. The impression made by\nChristian missions, however, must have a word of record before we close\nthese notes of travel. We have already described at considerable length\nthe sadness of Palestine. As you journey from place to place the\nimpression deepens. Sores, exposed and fly-blown, intrude themselves\ninto the memory of many a wayside and city street. The dirt and stench\nof the houses make the sunshine terrible. After weeks of travel the\nfeeling of a sick land has deepened upon you until it has become an\noppression weighing daily upon your heart. Suddenly you emerge in a\nmission-station, and an indescribable feeling of relief possesses you.\nThere is at last a sound of joy and health. These are the spots of\nbrightness in a very grey landscape, little centres of life in a land\nwhere so much is morbid. The visiting of sacred places would be the most\nselfish of religious sentimentalities if it were done without a painful\nsense of helplessness against the misery that surrounds them. The only\nthing that turns pity into hope in Palestine is the mission-work that is\nbeing done there. No one can see that work without being filled with an\naltogether new enthusiasm for missions. Across the sea, one believes in\nthem as a part of Christian duty and custom. On the spot, one thanks God\nfor them as almost unearthly revelations of \u201csweetness and cleanness,\nabundance, power to bless, and Christian love in that loveless land.\u201d\n\nThe names of Christian missionaries are imperial names in Syria. It is,\nindeed, an empire of hearts, and\n\n[Illustration: THE PLAIN OF JERICHO, LOOKING TOWARDS THE MOUNTAINS OF\nMOAB.\n\nThe road in the foreground, stretching across the plain, is that from\nJerusalem to Jericho.]\n\nits coming is not with observation. But of its reality and power there\ncan be no question even now, and its sway is extending year by year. To\nthose whose Syrian travels have given them the vivid imagination, vivid\nalmost as memory, of the real fact of Christ in the past, this fact of\nChrist in the present is as welcome as it is evident. They feel, and the\nEast too is feeling, that the Great Healer still goes about the land\ndoing good. The future, whatever its political course may be, is\nreligiously full of hope. It may take time--God only knows how long it\nwill take. The ancient miracles of Christ did not reveal the Healer to\nthe world in a day. Yet quietly and out of sight, the East is learning\nthat Christ is indeed the Healer of mankind. It does not as yet confess\nthis, even to itself. But the hearts of many sufferers know it, and\nevery Christian knows that certainly \u201cHe will have it again.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nIndex\n\n\nAbana, 52, 59, 60\n\nAchor, 47\n\nAcre, 169\n\nAgriculture, 71\n\nAmphitheatres, 107\n\nAngels, 220\n\nAntipatris, 54\n\nAqueducts, 104\n\nArabia, Arab, 22, 29, 93 f., 149, 181, 198, 199\n\nAramaic, 69\n\nAsceticism, 122\n\nAthlit, 169\n\n\nBaalbek, 108\n\nBanias, 55, 168\n\nBarbarossa, 161\n\nBashan, 44\n\nBeautiful Gate, 83, 192\n\nBethel, 8, 102\n\nBether, 98\n\nBethlehem, 25, 46, 72, 74, 189, 214, 253\n\nBethshan, 41, 42, 72, 169\n\nBeyrout, 66\n\nBible illustrations, 92, 93, 94\n\nBooths, 178\n\nBridges, 57, 104\n\nBurdens, 181\n\n\nC\u00e6sarea, 102, 163, 172\n\nCalvary, site of, 78, 83, 114, 196, 222, 235, 236, 276\n\nCapernaum, 64, 101, 105\n\nCarpets, 16\n\nCastles, 168\n\nCaves, 214\n\nCharacter, Syrian, 15, 33, 62, 232 f.\n\nChildren, 111, 187, 218, 231\n\nChristianity, early, 115 f.\n\nChurch of the Holy Sepulchre, 79, 131, 150, 151, 156, 193, 235\n\nChurch of the Nativity, 133 f.\n\nChurches, 129, 146, 160, 165, 171\n\nCities, 22, 65 f.\n\nClothes, 17, 181\n\nCoast, 43\n\nColour, 7 f.\n\nCommerce, 75, 78, 157, 159\n\nConstantine, 115, 116\n\nCross, the, 147, 234 f.\n\nCrusaders, 74, 157 f., 192\n\n\nDamascus, 12, 13, 21, 35, 53, 60, 66, 75,\n 85, 137, 143, 146, 174, 185, 191, 193, 223, 241\n\nDamascus Gate, Jerusalem, 53, 83\n\nDan, 54\n\nDead Sea, 11, 25, 37, 41, 51, 57, 60, 207\n\nDeath, 76, 190 f.\n\nDervishes, 140\n\nDesert, 12, 14, 15, 20 f.\n\nDetail, observation of, 32\n\nDew, 51\n\nDisease, 222, 223, 227 f., 244 f.\n\nDog River, 54, 86\n\n\nEarthquake, 212\n\nEast of Jordan, 22\n\nEl Aksa, 147 f.\n\nElijah, 61\n\nElisha\u2019s Fountain, 143\n\nEsdraelon, 9, 22, 26, 41, 42, 49, 59\n\nEvil eye, 218\n\n\nFanaticism, 188\n\nFatalism, 201, 202\n\nFauna, 12, 220, 221\n\nFeasts, 188, 201\n\nFellahin, 22, 69\n\nFlora, 12, 67, 161, 207, 209, 210, 211\n\nFuture, 239 f.\n\n\nGadara, 60, 98, 108, 194\n\nGalilee, 9, 45\n\nGames, 185\n\nGardens, 177\n\nGaza, 64\n\nGenii, 220\n\nGeography, 32, 161\n\nGethsemane, 214\n\nGhosts, 190\n\nGideon, 64\n\nGilgals, 47 f.\n\nGlass, 16\n\nGorges, 47\n\nGreat Deep, 53, 213\n\nGreece, 100, 113, 197\n\n\nHarod, Well of, 64\n\nHattin, 169\n\nHauran, 85\n\nHebron, 9, 46, 64, 74, 75, 90, 196\n\nHermits, 123\n\nHermon, 9, 11, 41, 44, 51, 54, 55, 220\n\nHerods, 56, 101, 110, 171\n\nHezekiah\u2019s aqueduct, 53, 88\n\nHoly Fire, 133, 193\n\nHoly Grail, 162\n\nHospitality, 35\n\nHouses, 16, 67, 75\n\nHuleh, Lake, 58, 60\n\nHumour, 183\n\n\nImmortality, 197, 198\n\nInscriptions, 87\n\nIrrigation, 9, 233\n\nIsraelites, 88 f.\n\n\nJacob\u2019s dream, 5\n\nJacob\u2019s Well, 13, 48, 63, 119, 129\n\nJaffa, 72\n\nJehoshaphat, Valley of, 79\n\nJericho, 26, 49, 105, 227, 232\n\nJeroboam, 78\n\nJerusalem, 45 f., 53, 65 f., 76 f., 149, 228\n\nJesus Christ, 4, 5, 10, 31, 46, 49, 69, 84, 113, 114,\n 150, 173, 177, 204, 242, 243, 245\n\nJews, 30, 88 f., 195, 201\n\nJezreel, 41\n\nJob, 96, 224, 233\n\nJohn the Baptist, 146, 147\n\nJordan, 13, 23, 28, 40, 41, 42, 44, 49, 51, 55 f., 65, 121, 178\n\nJoy, 188\n\nJudea, 8, 9, 24, 34, 45 f., 47\n\n\nKhan Minyeh, 64, 105\n\nKidron, 25, 46, 63\n\nKnights, 151, 164, 170\n\n\nLandmarks, 175\n\nLebanon, 44 f., 51\n\nLegends, 62, 69, 103, 134 f., 150, 153\n\nLeontes, 44, 58\n\nLeprosy, 228\n\nLunacy, 222\n\n\nMaccabees, 100\n\nMagic, 3, 29, 154, 205, 217 f.\n\nMar Saba, 25, 27, 123, 125 f.\n\nMartyrs, 116, 123\n\nMedicinal springs, 201, 222, 227\n\nMelancholy, 31\n\nMichmash, 47\n\nMiracle, 3, 4\n\nMirage, 212\n\nMissions, 95\n\nMohammedanism, 2, 74, 137 f., 142, 242\n\nMonastic establishments, 122\n\nMorasses, 211\n\nMosaics, 102, 168\n\nMosques, 146\n\nMosque of Omar, 53, 79, 80, 131, 144, 149 f., 159\n\nMount of Olives, 154\n\nMountains, 40 f., 49\n\nMuezzin, 143\n\nMusic, 31 f.\n\nMystery, 206\n\n\nNablus, 64, 74, 92\n\nNain, 68\n\nNames of places, 39, 160\n\nNazareth, 48, 62, 69, 72, 114, 189, 218\n\n\nOppression, 229\n\n\nPast, the, 2\n\nPaul, St., 172\n\nPersecutions, 116\n\nPh\u0153nicia, 10\n\nPilgrimages, 117 f.\n\nPools, 211\n\nPrayer, 142\n\nProvidence, 233\n\n\nQuarantana, 5, 46, 49\n\n\nRachel, 195\n\nRailway, 86, 182\n\nRelics, 2, 119, 152, 160\n\nReligion of Israel, 39, 65, 97 f., 173 f., 187\n\nRevelation, 97 f.\n\nRichard C\u0153ur de Lion, 163, 167\n\nRivers, 51 f.\n\nRoads, 77, 99 f., 174\n\nRib Roy canoe, 57, 91\n\nRomans, 56, 77, 83, 98 f., 107, 108, 113\n\nRussians, 119 f.\n\n\nSafed, 90\n\nSt. Christopher, 135\n\nSt. George, 134, 168, 193\n\nSamaria, 9, 45, 47, 48, 102, 110, 146\n\nSamaritans, 92\n\nSanur, 48\n\nScents, 179\n\nSea, 21, 24, 78, 212, 213\n\nSea of Galilee, 11, 15, 37, 58, 59, 208, 209, 210\n\nShirky, 26\n\nSiloam, 53, 76, 81, 88\n\nSites, identification of, 165\n\nSmallness of the land, 37\n\nSolomon, 78, 153\n\nSpectral, the, 205 f.\n\nSprings, 54\n\nStones, Jewish, 82\n\nStraight Street, 103\n\nSun, 14, 16, 28\n\nSynagogues, 79\n\n\nTabor, 45, 48, 128, 165\n\nTattoo, 18, 75\n\nTell Hum, 128\n\nTents, 22 f.\n\nTerraces, 50, 240\n\nTerror, 206\n\nTiberias, 90, 91, 201, 209\n\nTitus, 84\n\nTobacco, 93\n\nToil, 227\n\nTombs, 81, 140, 174, 186, 191\n\nTowns, 65 f., 71\n\nTravel, 2, 161\n\nTrees, 67, 210, 211\n\nTruth, 206\n\nTyre, 10, 72, 75, 160\n\n\nUnderground waters, 52, 213\n\nUnfinishedness, 174\n\n\nVillages, 11, 15, 65 f.\n\n\nWar, 49, 50\n\nWelis, 141\n\nWells, 62\n\n\nZionists, 90\n\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n [1] _Eothen_, ch. xxiii.\n\n [2] The natives have at last borrowed the sloping red-tiled roofs from\n the Franks who introduced them. Cf. a letter written by Professor G.\n A. Smith to the _Spectator_, October 1891.\n\n [3] _Tent Work_, p. 54.\n\n [4] Cf. _The Semites_, Robertson Smith, chaps. iii. and v.\n\n [5] For these and other instances cf. _Historical Geography_, p. 52,\n and Appendix I.\n\n [6] Cf. _The Least of all Lands_, Principal Miller, ch. 1.\n\n [7] Cf. p. 15.\n\n [8] _The Rob Roy on the Jordan_, p. 129.\n\n [9] Cf. _The Semites_, Robertson Smith, p. 97.\n\n [10] _Rob Roy_, p. 102.\n\n [11] _Tent Work_, p. 120.\n\n [12] The _Rob Roy_ has contributed gallantly to its exploration. To\n her captain\u2019s book this chapter is under many obligations.\n\n [13] _Tent Work_, chaps. xx., xxi.\n\n [14] They are cut with a cross-chiselled margin, and rough outstanding\n rustic work in the centre. Their size and weight are enormous. One\n writer, whose sense of humour is hardly equal to his knowledge of\n Scripture, in describing them is carried away into the statement that\n \u201cthe Jewish architects, taught by their Ph\u0153nician neighbours, bestowed\n special care upon the corners of their great buildings. They show a\n finish, a solidity, and choice of material superior to other parts....\n And how beautifully expressive is the language of the Psalmist, \u2018our\n daughters are corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a\n palace\u2019--one of the corner-stones of this angle weighs over a hundred\n tons\u201d!\n\n [15] For an account of these and others cf. Palestine Exploration\n Fund, Quarterly Statement, October 1901.\n\n [16] See, however, Professor G. A. Smith\u2019s _Jerusalem_, vol. i. pp.\n 189, 190.\n\n [17] _Haifa_, Laurence Oliphant, pp. 317, 318.\n\n [18] \u201cLove among the Ruins,\u201d Robert Browning.\n\n [19] _The Dawn of Art_, Martin Conway, pp. 58-76.\n\n [20] St. Symeon was a shepherd from the borderland between Cilicia and\n Syria.\n\n [21] Cf. Schaff\u2019s _Church History, Nicene and Post-Nicene Period_,\n chap. iv.\n\n [22] St. Jerome, Ep. xiv.\n\n [23] Cf. pp. 27, 30.\n\n [24] _Arabia, the Cradle of Islam_, Zwemer, p. 179.\n\n [25] _Medi\u00e6val Christianity_, Schaff, p. 150.\n\n [26] Written in 1904.\n\n [27] _The Crusades_, Cox, p. 72.\n\n [28] _The Crusades_, Cox, p. 215. Of these children only 5000\n crossed the Mediterranean. They were sold, when they landed, in the\n slave-markets of Alexandria and Algiers.\n\n [29] Map has the credit of introducing the Grail story into Arthurian\n romance; Borron of adding the early part which traced it to Joseph of\n Arimathea.\n\n [30] Cf. _Chivalry and Crusades_, Stebbing, vol. ii. chaps. iv. and v.\n\n [31] _Haifa_, Laurence Oliphant, p. 189.\n\n [32] _The Semites_, Robertson Smith, p. 29.\n\n [33] _Ibid._ pp. 244, 257.\n\n [34] Deut. xxviii. 47, 48.\n\n [35] Deut. xxviii. 47, 48.\n\n [36] _Robert Browning_, William Sharp, p. 203.\n\n [37] Gen. xxxv. 16, 19.\n\n [38] _Haifa_, pp. 270-272; _Tent Work_, p. 85.\n\n [39] Cf. _The Dawn of Art_, Martin Conway, p. 95, etc.; _Some Aspects\n of the Greek Genius_, Professor Butcher, p. 30.\n\n [40] Cf. _Rationalism in Europe_, Leckie, ii. 197.\n\n [41] Cf. the sprightly figure of Glaucon in Plato\u2019s _Republic_, B,\n x, \u00a7 9: \u201cDo you know,\u201d says Socrates, \u201cthat our soul is immortal and\n never dies?\u201d \u201cBy Jove, I do not,\u201d replies Glaucon. \u201cAre you prepared\n to prove that it is?\u201d\n\n [42] _Arabia, the Cradle of Islam_, Zwemer, xiii.\n\n [43] The rags which are hung on trees or fences near certain tombs\n suggest the medicinal value of holy places, which attracts men to them\n from selfish interests.\n\n [44] _Talisman_, xxviii.\n\n [45] _East of the Jordan_, Dr. Merrill, p. 496.\n\n [46] _Tent Work_, p. 314.\n\n [47] _Marius the Epicurean_, Walter Pater, i. 44.\n\n [48] _Rob Roy on the Jordan_, p. 260.\n\n [49] _Eothen_, ch. viii.\n\n [50] Cf. _Geschichte des J\u00fcdischen Volkes_, Sch\u00fcrer, ii. 819, 820.\n\n [51] Cf. _The Semites_, W. Robertson Smith, iii. v.\n\n [52] Cf. _The Semites_, W. Robertson Smith, pp. 197, etc.\n\n [53] _Tent Work_, pp. 68, 204.\n\n [54] Cf. _The Semites_, Robertson Smith, pp. 16, 17.\n\n [55] _East of the Jordan_, Merrill, p. 193.\n\n [56] The early Christian belief that the gods of paganism were demons\n has died hard, if indeed it be quite dead. The \u201cweird horsemen\u201d who\n in windy nights are to be heard galloping down lonely valleys lead us\n back to that interesting custom by which a horse was actually provided\n in some of the temples of the Syrian Herakles, to that the god might\n ride forth at night.\n\n [57] _Haifa_, Laurence Oliphant, p. 300.\n\n [58] Job iv. 14-16.\n\n [59] _The Cradle of Christianity_, D. M. Ross, p. 60.\n\n [60] See p. 36.\n\n [61] Professor G. A. Smith, in his chapter on \u201cThe Walls of\n Jerusalem,\u201d has given the results of an exhaustive study of the\n most recent research on this subject, and his conclusion is that\n \u201con our present data it is hopeless to decide between the rival and\n contradictory arguments.\u201d--_Jerusalem_, vol. i. p. 249.","title":"The Holy Land","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":67219}