have I seen so wonderful a witness to this life-giving power, as the view on which we are now entering. The further we advance the contrast becomes more and more forcible; the mountains more bare, the green of the river-bed more deep and rich. At last a cleft opens in the rocky hills between two precipitous cliffs -up the side of one of these cliffs the road winds; on the summit of the cliff there stands a ruined chapel. Through the arches of that chapel, from the very edge of the mountain-range, you look down on the plain of Damascus. It is here seen in its widest and fullest perfection, with the visible explanation of the whole secret of its great and enduring charm, that which it must have had when it was the solitary seat of civilisation in Syria, and which it will have as long as the world lasts. The river is visible at the bottom with its green banks, rushing through the cleft; it bursts forth,' and as if in a moment scatters over the plain, through a circle of thirty miles, the same verdure which had hitherto been confined to its single channel. It is like the bursting of a shell-the eruption of a volcano-but an eruption not of death but of life. Far and wide in front extends the wide plain, its horizon bare, its lines of surrounding hills bare, all bare far away on the road to Palmyra and Bagdad. In the midst of this plain lies at your feet the vast lake or island of deep verdure, walnuts and apricots waving above, corn and grass below; and in the midst of this mass of foliage rises, striking out its white arms of streets hither and thither, and its white minarets above the trees which embosom them, the City of Damascus. On the right towers the snowy height of Hermon, overlooking the whole scene. Close behind are the sterile limestone mountains so that you stand literally between the living and the dead. And the ruined arches of the ancient chapel, which serve as a centre and framework to the prospect and retrospect, still preserve the magnificent story which, whether truth or fiction, is well worthy of this sublime view. Here, hard by the sacred heights of Salehiyeh-consecrated by the caverns and tombs of a thousand Mussulman saints-the Prophet is said to have stood, whilst yet a camel-driver from Mecca, and after gazing on the scene below, to have turned away without entering the city. "Man," he said, "can have but one paradise-and my paradise is fixed above." " The origin of Damascus, as thus depending on this rush of many waters, is well expressed in the legendary account, said to have been given by El-Khudr, the Ancient Wanderer of the Mussulman religion. "Once," he said, "I passed by and saw the site of this city all covered by the sea: wherein was an abundance of water collected. After this I was absent five hundred years, and then returning, beheld a city commenced therein, where many were walking about." (Jelal-ed-din, p. 486.) 2 Maundrell: Early Travellers, p.485. The chapel is called "Kubbet-enNasar," "the Dome of Victory." According to one version of the story it is said to be the grave of the Prophet's guide, who said, "Here let me die." (See One other traditional view there is on the opposite side of Damascus, which though nearer at hand and only seen from the level ground, is, if correct, yet more memorable-the most memorable, indeed, which even this world-old city has presented to mortal eyes. A quarter of an hour from the walls of the city on the eastern side the Christian burial-ground, and a rude mass of conglomerate stone mark the reputed scene of the conversion of St. Paul. We were there "at noon." There was the cloudless blue sky overhead; close in front the city walk, in part still ancient; around it, the green mass of groves and orchards; and beyond them, and deeply contrasted with them, on the south, the white top of Hermon, on the north, the gray hills of Saalyah. Such, according to the local belief, was St. Paul's view when the light became darkness before him, and he heard the voice which turned the fortunes of mankind. NOTE A. ON THE TRADITIONAL LOCALITIES OF DAMASCUS. In the above description of Damascus, I have ventured to allude to the two traditional views which must occur to every one in approaching Damascus, as fitly closing the long succession of celebrated prospects, which form so remarkable a series of links between the history and geography of the Holy Land. But the two spots in question must be considered, historically, as more than doubtful. 1 Mahomet probably never reached Damascus at all in his early wanderings; and the story seems, like many others relating to the neighbourhood, to have been only an expression of the strong sense of the beauty of the scene. With regard to the conversion of St. Paul, "as he drew nigh to Damascus," it is not likely that the exact scene should have been preserved; and it is curious that no less than four distinct spots have been pointed out at different times along the road to Damascus, at a greater or less distance, within ten miles from the city. Of these four spots, the only one now remembered seems to be that which has just been mentioned. And even of this, the tradition is only retained in the Latin convent. The ignorant guides of the place point it out only as the place where St. Paul hid himself after his escape, and all memory of the Vision and Conversion is lost. After all, it is most probable that the Apostle's a very inaccurate work, but with a few shreds of information. (Yussuf, p. 253). On nearly the same point, is laid the scene of Abraham's celebrated view of the rising and setting of the sun, the moon, and the stars, which occasioned his abandonment of idolatry. (Ritter, 1299.) 1 Quaresmius, vol. ii. 874. 2 There is a confused Mahometan tradition which represents our Lord as having ascended from the Mount of Olives at Jerusalem, and descended on the Mount of Figs at Damascus. (Jelal-ed-din, pp. 152, 397.) Can this be an allusion to the vision of St. Paul? approach to Damascus was not on the eastern side of the city at all. "The road to Jerusalem" then, as now, would have most naturally brought him into the city by the southern gate, that now called "the Gate of God;" or the western gate, leading to the heights of Saalyeh. The other localities in connection with St. Paul's history in Damascus are not more authentic. There is a long wide thoroughfare, called by the guides "Straight," but the name by which it is commonly known is the Street of "Bazaars." Two houses are shown in different quarters of the city; one, as that of Ananias; the other (not in the aforesaid street), as that of Judas.' Both are reverenced by Mussulmans, as well as by Christians. At the distance of two miles outside the walls, is shown a spot doubly connected with the history of the Old Testament. It is the village of Hobah, said to be that to which Abraham pursued the kings. (Gen. xiv. 15.) The only place in it now visited is the synagogue. In the corner of the building is a hole, entered by steps, long worn away, said to have been the retreat of Elisha. It is still frequented by sick pilgrims, who "come and sleep, and rise the next morning well." In the centre of the church is a space enclosed within rails,- formerly said to mark the place of Hazael's coronation, but now called the grave of Elisha's servant (evidently meaning Gehazi), who died here, aged 120, and over whose grave this railing was erected to prevent the burial of another on the same spot. NOTE B. TRADITIONS OF THE PATRIARCHAL HISTORY IN THE LEBANON. There is no neighbourhood more fertile in the stories of the primeval history of mankind than that of Damascus. The red colour of the plain on which it stands has long been represented as the earth from which the first man-the red Adam'-was pure formed. The hills on the northern extremity of the plain have been long pointed out as the scene of the death of Abel. The cedars of Lebanon, even as far back as the time of Ezekiel, were thought to grow in "Eden." The rude tomb, called "of Nimrod," is shown at 1 The "house of Ananias" is not remarkable; that of "Judas" contains a square room with a stone floor, one portion partly walled off for a tomb, which is covered with the usual votive offerings of shawls. This is probably what Maundrell (Early Trav. 494) called the tomb of Ananias. This house, and the im probability of the tradition, is well described in Pococke, (ii. 119). It stands in a short wide street, called the "Sheikh's Place," with a mosque hard by. 2 Maundrell, 490. 3 See Jelal-ed-din, 427. Kefr Hawy, on the summit of the Pass of Hermon, between Banias and Damascus. In regard to three such localities, often glanced at by passing travellers, the following additions and corrections may be worth preserving. 1. Following the course of the Barada up through the mountains of Anti-Libanus, the pathway at last reaches a narrow defile, through which the river rushes in a roaring torrent. This pass is called the "Shukh Barada," or "El Goosh,"-"Cleft of the Barada," or of the "Old Woman." It is crossed by a single arch, called the Bridge of "Souk," or "Shukh." High up in the rocks, on the left bank, are tombs and broken columns in front. On the right bank rises a lofty hill, on whose summit, as you approach from the south-east, is seen a line of tall black trees. They are seven Sindians," or Syrian oaks; and the following is the story told us concerning them by a native of Zebdani, a village, situated two or three hours to the north-west of the pass, where we encamped that night. "Habid (Cain) and Habil (Abel) were the two sons of Adam. The whole world was divided between them; and this was the cause of their quarrel. Habil moved his boundary stones too far; Habid threw them at him; and Habil fell. His brother in great grief carried the body on his back for 500 years, not knowing what to do with it. At last, on the top of this hill, he saw two birds fighting, -the one killed the other, washed him, and buried him in the ground. Habid did the like for his brother's body, and planted his staff to mark the spot, and from this staff the seven trees grew up." At the top of the hill, under the trees, is said to be a large tomb of "Nebi-Habil." At the entrance of the pass stood, in ancient times, the city of Abila, the capital of Abilene. It is difficult to say whether the name originated the legend, or the legend the name; probably the former, as the word "Abil," (meadow), would be a natural designation of a town at the exit of the Barada through the green vale at the foot of the defile, and the same transposition of "Abel" into "Abila," under like circumstances, occurs in the town of Abel-Shittim. The pass was the scene of a great battle in the time of the Mussulman conquest of Syria.' 2. The same peasant of Zebdani conducted us over the western slopes of Anti-Libanus to the tomb of Nebi-Schit-"The Prophet Seth." It stands conspicuous on the side of the hill, with its two white domes, just where the great view of Cole-Syria opens in the descent. Round it lies the village which derives its name from the sanctuary. The larger of the two domes marks the mosque; the lesser the tomb, which joins it at an obtuse angle. We entered through a court, accompanied by two servants of the mosque. The 1 See Mr. Porter's account of the Barada (Journal of Sacred Lit. iv. pp. 248-252.) tomb was seen through a rough grating. It was a gallery, like a long low chest, covered, as usual, with offerings for a length of 60 feet. "It would have been 20 feet longer," said the attendant, "but the Prophet Seth, who came here preaching to the people, who worshipped cows, was killed by them, and was hastily buried, with his knees doubled under his legs. Every Friday night a light shines in the tomb." 3. On the opposite side of the vale of Cœle-Syria, or the eastern slope of Lebanon, and therefore nearly facing the tomb of Seth, immediately close to the village of Muallakah, is the similar mosque of Nebi-Nuach-the "Prophet Noah;" though smaller, and apparently less honoured. He having died a natural death, and been therefore buried at peace, the tomb was proportionally longer than that of Seth, being nearly 120 feet in length. 1 Compare Note to Chapter VI. p. 272. Early travellers were told that the ark was built here. (Brocquière : Early Travellers, p. 293). It is curious that the statements respecting the measure ments of this tomb should be so various. Burckhardt gives it at only ten feet (p. 5). The most accurate account is in Lepsius' Letters, who visited both tombs (pp. 338, 345). |