Chapter V: Part 5

Mr. Mills, who resided three months in Nablus in order to acquaint himself thoroughly with the Samaritans, says of it: “The roll itself is of what we should call parchment, but of a material much older than that, written in columns twelve inches deep and seven and a half inches wide. The writing is in a fair hand, but not nearly so large or beautiful as the book-copies which I had previously examined. The writing being rather small, each column contains from seventy to seventy-two lines. The name of the scribe is written in a kind of acrostic, and forms part of the text, running through three columns, and is found in the Book of Deuteronomy. Whether it be the real work of the great grandson of Aaron, as indicated in the writing, I leave the reader to judge; the roll, at all events, has all the appearance of a very high antiquity, and wonderfully well preserved, considering its venerable age.”

TWO PAGES OF A BOOK COPY OF THE SAMARITAN PENTATEUCH.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN FOR THE “PALESTINE EXPLORATION FUND.”
]

One of the halves of the metal cylinder is very curious, and deserves more attention than it has received at the hands of Biblical archæologists. It is of silver, about two feet six inches long, by ten or twelve inches in diameter, and is covered with embossed work with a descriptive legend attached to each portion. I procured a rubbing from Yacoub, and on my return to England found that it had been photographed by the Palestine Exploration Fund. Yacoub said that it was a plan of the Temple and its furniture; on examination, however, it proves to be the Tabernacle of the Wilderness. Mr. Van Straalen, successor to Mr. Deutsch at the British Museum, has been good enough to examine it for me, and reports that the letters are Samaritan, not later than the fourth century, and probably older. Some of the lettering he has been unable to decipher. The annexed engravings show the cylinder and a translation of the inscriptions, so far as they are yet read.

On the outer rim are a series of numbers running from one to sixty. These probably refer to the posts, which appear to have been numbered so as to avoid confusion and delay in the erection of the Tabernacle on its arrival at the camping-ground. The instructions given to Moses “in the Mount,” were, that there should be twenty boards on each side, but at the corners were to be two boards additional. At the end, behind the most holy place, were to be six boards. Nothing is said about the entrance, which apparently was to be left open.[200] Posts, however, would be needed to sustain the framework with its covering. This would give 24 + 24 + 6 + 6 = 60, the numbers shown in the plan.

We then find the names of the twelve tribes. These are given not according to patriarchal seniority or tribal precedence, but in the order of the encampment and march, as recorded in the Book of Numbers. Judah, Issachar, and Zebulon are on one side. These tribes formed the vanguard of the army, and were followed on the march by the Tabernacle itself. Then came Reuben, Simeon, and Gad. As soon as they “set forward” they were followed by the ark, which was thus in the midst of the people whether marching or camping. Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin come next; then Dan, Asher, and Naphtali bring up the rear.[201]

In the Holiest of Holies we find the ark, with its crown or rim of beaten gold, upon which are the cherubim kneeling face to face, whilst their wings projecting behind them overshadow the mercy-seat.[202] On one side of the ark is the staff of Moses, on the other that of Aaron. The veil hangs down in front concealing the mysterious recess. Immediately in front of the veil are the stations of the Levites. The altar of incense comes next, and then the table of shewbread with the candlestick “over against the table, on the side of the tabernacle, southward.”[203] The spoons, bowls, and covers are marked in the place indicated by Moses near the table.[204] The entrance from the outer court was, as the Talmud describes it, not in the centre, but on the right-hand side.

The laver stands at “the door of the Tabernacle of the congregation,” that the priests might wash as they entered into the holy place.[205] Near it is the altar of burnt offering, with its “brazen grate of network of brass.”[206] This grating or network has been the subject of much controversy amongst Biblical critics. The representation here given, favours the view of those who suppose it to have been an inclined plane leading up to the altar. The censer is placed immediately over against the altar of burnt offering, that the priests might take the coals from the sacrifice, and therewith offer the incense of thanksgiving.[207] The flesh-hooks, forks, knives, pans, and basins, are represented as arranged around the altar.[208] The trumpets at the entrance are peculiar in form, and may throw some light upon a question much debated amongst students of the Talmud as to the shape of one which appears to have been bent in the manner represented. The date and value of this curious relic are as yet doubtful. Subsequent investigations may throw light upon its origin.

The few survivors of the Samaritans are now rent asunder by intestine feuds. Apparently, they will speedily cease to exist altogether. Their synagogue rolls may then come into the hands of Europeans, and receive a more careful and thorough examination than has been hitherto possible.

In Nablus alone of all the cities of Palestine is it possible to see and feel what “the good land” was in the days of its prosperity. In addition to the fertility of its soil and the beauty of its situation, there is an air of activity and life which is wanting elsewhere. Lying on the main road between the interior and the coast it has a considerable traffic. Its bazaars are crowded with bedouin from beyond the Jordan, with the peasantry of the valley, and with Russian, Armenian and Greek pilgrims who, having landed at Haifa, are on their way to Jerusalem. The wrangling and chaffering between the buyers and sellers belonging to these various nationalities offer a curious contrast to the quiet modes of transacting business at home. The shopkeeper begins by asking four times as much as he means to take. The customer meets him by bidding a fourth of what he means to give. Bystanders join in the negotiation. The whole party work themselves up into what appears to be a fit of uncontrollable fury, shrieking and yelling at one another in their guttural Arabic till manslaughter seems imminent. At length the bargain is concluded, and peace is restored.

Nablus boasts of some manufactures. Considerable quantities of soap are made, and one large factory has quite a European look. The oil produced here is the best in Palestine; and large quantities of cotton are grown.

NABLUS TO THE PLAIN OF ESDRAELON.

A CHARMING ride of about six miles north-west from Nablus brings us to Samaria. The road follows the valley for some distance, and then mounts the western shoulder of Ebal. As we reach the crest of the ridge, a beautiful and fertile plain, surrounded by hills, bursts upon us. In the centre of the basin rises a flat-topped hill, its sides terraced to the summit, on which stand the remains of the ancient city. Rows of columns are seen clear and sharp against the skyline, and amongst the mean houses of the peasantry stand the ruins of the magnificent city built here by Herod, and called by him Sebaste (= Augusta) in honour of his imperial patron.

The great and obvious advantages of the site of Samaria make it extraordinary that a city did not exist here at a very early period. The Biblical narrative, however, is clear, that it was built by Omri, the father of Ahab, who bought the hill from Shemer for two talents of silver, and built on it a city which he called Samaria, after the name of the former proprietor.[209] Shechem, the earlier capital, lying in a valley, was exposed to attack. Samaria seated on a hill could be easily defended, and was more central. The seat of government was, therefore, removed thither, and gave its name to the northern confederacy. The strength of its position is proved by the fact that it sustained two severe sieges from the Syrians who attacked it with “all their hosts.”[210] On the first occasion Benhadad, brought against it “thirty-two kings,” his allies. On the second, it held out till the last horrors of famine had been endured. In both cases the city finally escaped by divine intervention; but it must have been almost impregnable to have held out against such formidable attacks.

Climbing the rather steep ascent that leads up into the city, we come to a large pool or reservoir. Though it does not possess the same marks of antiquity as those at Hebron, Urtas and Bethel, it has yet been identified with some probability as that near which Naboth was slain by the infamous and idolatrous Jezebel, and where shortly after, “one washed the chariot of Ahab in the pool of Samaria, and the dogs licked up his blood, and they washed his armour according to the word of the Lord, which he spake.”[211]

Near “the pool of Samaria” are the remains of a large and handsome Christian Church, in the cave under which, according to a very early tradition, the body of John the Baptist was buried after his execution.[212] Though the date of the edifice is comparatively modern, it leads back our thoughts to Apostolic times, when “Philip went down to the city of Samaria, and preached Christ unto them, and the people with one accord gave heed unto those things which he spake.” Such was the success of his ministry that Peter and John joined him in the work. Here it was that the divine judgment fell upon Simon the Sorcerer—a solemn warning to after ages of the danger of mercenary motives in religious profession.[213]

Of the earlier city of Omri and Ahab no trace remains. The threatenings of ancient prophecy have been literally fulfilled. “I will make Samaria as a heap of the field, and as plantings of a vineyard; and I will pour down the stones thereof into the valley, and I will discover the foundations thereof.” “Woe to the crown of pride, to the drunkards of Ephraim, whose glorious beauty is a fading flower, which are on the head of the fat valleys of them that are overcome with wine! Behold the Lord hath a mighty and strong one, which as a tempest of hail and a destroying storm, as a flood of mighty waters overflowing, shall cast down to the earth with the hand.” “Samaria shall become desolate; for she hath rebelled against her God.”[214] Standing on the summit of the hill, and looking down on the mounds of stone poured into the valley below, it would be difficult to find a more exact accomplishment of prophecy than that before us. The ruins of the city subsequently built upon the site are very striking, not only from their extent but from their character and position. A double avenue of Corinthian columns may yet be traced along the whole brow of the hill. The colonnade, according to Dr. Porter, runs eastward in a straight line for about one thousand feet, and then curves round to the left, following the sweep of the hill, extending altogether about three thousand feet. On the north-eastern slope of the hill the ground falls back into a natural amphitheatre. The central part of this seems to have been cut into steps forming tiers of seats, as though a theatre had been constructed here. In front of these earthworks are the remains of another very remarkable structure. Dr. Porter calculates that when the edifice was complete there must have been one hundred and seventy columns, of which fifteen are still standing. But we have no clue to the character of the building of which they formed part.

From Samaria northwards two routes of great interest and beauty lie before us. The one leads westward through a line of valleys of extraordinary fertility, where in spite of the sparse population and the depredations of the Bedouins large crops of wheat and barley meet the eye. A few wretched villages stand amidst the luxuriant vegetation, the inhabitants of which, unprotected by the government, have to repel, as best they can, the attacks of the marauding nomads whose black tents may be seen on every hillside. These sons of Ishmael, in whom the prophecy respecting their father is still exemplified, “he will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man’s hand against him,”[215] render travelling without an escort dangerous, but they add greatly to the picturesqueness and interest of the scene. In the evening their long lines of flocks and herds pouring into the encampment form a most striking object in the landscape, and the elders may often be seen grouped around a tent door recounting their exploits, or planning a foray upon some hostile tribe, or listening to a story-teller reciting a tale from the ‘Arabian Nights Entertainments.’ Upon a life of settled industry they look down with contempt; “Mayst thou become a fellah” (a peasant) is one of the bitterest curses which a Bedouin can pronounce upon his fellow-wanderer.

Soon we enter the northern portion of the plain of Sharon, through the centre of which we passed on our way eastward from Jaffa. Leaving behind us the mountains of Samaria and reaching the shores of the Mediterranean, we find ourselves at Kaisariyeh, the ancient CÆSAREA. This city was built by Herod the Great, with the design of connecting himself more closely with the western world, and leaving behind him a lasting monument of his power and magnificence. A vast mole was run out into the sea to afford a secure harbour for shipping. A city was reared which might vie in splendour with those of Italy, and surrounded with fortifications which were deemed impregnable. A temple to Cæsar containing statues not inferior to that of Jupiter Olympius, so Josephus asserts, rose on an eminence within the walls. But the attempt thus to perpetuate his memory was vain. All has gone down to utter ruin and decay. Even in Palestine itself it would be hard to find a spot more utterly desolate than that of the proud capital of Herod. In the present day it is only remembered by its connection with the obscure, hated, and despised sect whose founder he sought to slay in His cradle at Bethlehem, and to whose death at Calvary his son and successor was a consenting party. It was the scene of some of the most memorable incidents in the Acts of the Apostles. Here Philip the deacon, after the baptism of the Abyssinian eunuch, lived for many years as the pastor of a prosperous church, and the centre of missionary activity throughout the whole region. The first Gentile convert was here admitted into “the fellowship of the saints,” in accordance with the vision vouchsafed to Peter at Joppa, a day’s journey down the coast. It was at Cæsarea that Herod Agrippa was smitten with the Divine judgment upon his impious pride and vainglory. Hither Saul of Tarsus was brought on his way from Jerusalem; and here Paul the Apostle, as a prisoner, “reasoned of temperance and righteousness and judgment to come” with such persuasive force as to draw from one of his judges the confession, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.”[216]

Continuing our journey we soon leave the plain of Sharon, and find ourselves amongst the lower spurs of Carmel, whose long ridge runs out as a bluff promontory into the sea, a few miles to the northward. This, however, will more fitly occupy a place in a subsequent section.

The other route from Samaria to Galilee leads us through a district richer in Scriptural associations than that just described. It runs almost due north through a series of picturesque glens, or over romantic hills which need only a moderate amount of labour to be turned into a succession of gardens. At a little distance to the right is Talûza, the TIRZAH of the kings of Israel, a royal residence, the beauty of which furnished Solomon with the comparison, “Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah!”[217] A little farther on is Tûbâs, or THEBEZ, where Abimelech was slain by the hand of a woman, his ignominious death furnishing a proverb for after years.[218]

About twelve miles north of Nablus, and just before descending into the plain of Jezreel we pass the entrance to a broad, deep valley, or basin amongst the hills on our right. Its name, DOTHAN, recalls one of the most memorable incidents in the lives of the patriarchs which formed one of the turning-points in the history of the Church and of the world. Joseph, sent by his father to visit his brethren in their favourite camping-ground at Shechem, found on his arrival that they had passed northward to Dothan. Hither, therefore, he followed them; and “when they saw him afar off they conspired against him to slay him.” Having cast him into one of those deep pits with which the district yet abounds—excavations formed by the inhabitants of the land for storing grain or water, often shaped like an inverted funnel—they left him to perish. Relenting in their murderous purpose, or prompted by the selfish hope of gain, they subsequently drew him thence, and sold him to a company of Midianites from Gilead, who were passing on their way down into Egypt.[219] Upon this slight incident the whole after-fortunes of the nation turned.

Here, as elsewhere throughout Palestine, a study of the topography of the district gives unexpected confirmation or illustration to the narrative. Dothan lies just off the main route by which the Bedouins, like the Ishmaelites of old, travel on their way southward. Crossing by the upper ford of the Jordan, near to Beisan, the ancient Bethshan, the caravans enter the main road at Jenin, a short distance to the north, and pass the very spot indicated by the inspired historian. I met several parties of Bedouins near Dothan, “who came from Gilead with their camels,” conveying the produce of the Hauran to exchange it in the bazaars of Jerusalem, Nablus, or Jaffa for the manufactures of Europe, which is to the Syrian nomads of the present day what Egypt was to their forefathers three thousand years ago.

The mound of ruins which rises from the valley of Dothan, marks the site of the city. It was here that Elisha hid himself from the fury of the king of Syria, when the monarch, infuriated at the repeated disclosure of his plans by the prophet, resolved to put him to death, and for this purpose “compassed the city both with horses and chariots.” But whilst the valley was filled with the “great host,” “behold the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha,” so that he could confidently say, “Fear not; for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.”[220] As we look at the valley girdled with hills on every side, and remember the mighty host of defenders once revealed there to the eye of faith, we gratefully call to mind the promise made to every believer, “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth them.”[221]

The town of JENIN, which lies at the junction of several valleys and roads, is a place of considerable importance. Its Scripture name, En-gannim,[222] (the fountain of the gardens) seems to be derived from a magnificent fountain of water which rises in the hills just behind the town, and irrigating the rich alluvial soil turns it into a garden. It has the reputation of being unhealthy; but its picturesque minarets, surrounded by clumps of feathery palms, gardens of cactus and prickly pear, and luxuriant orange groves, make it one of the most beautiful towns in Palestine. Dr. Wilson, in his “Lands of the Bible,” calls attention to the peculiar head-dress of the women of this district, and thinks it illustrates the words of Solomon, “Thy cheeks are comely with rows [of jewels], thy neck with chains [of gold].”[223] Strings of gold coin hang down from a sort of tiara upon the cheeks, like the tie of a helmet, and a similar ornament is worn round the neck. A colony of Egyptians was settled in this neighbourhood about half a century ago, and as it resembles the head-dress of the fellaheen of Egypt it may have been derived from them, but it is probably much older.

We are now at the entrance of the great PLAIN OF ESDRAELON, so memorable in the military history of the Jews as the scene of some of their greatest victories, and most disastrous defeats. It forms an irregular triangle, stretching from the Mediterranean to the Jordan valley, bounded on the north by the hills of Galilee, on the south by those of Samaria. Amongst the former Tabor is the most conspicuous, both from its height and its peculiar pyramidal form. The long ridge of Carmel stretches along the south-western side. The mountains of Gilboa and Little Hermon rise out of the plain itself at the eastern end.

Near the centre of the plain on a low flat-topped hill at the foot of the western extremity of Gilboa, are a cluster of wretched mud hovels, now called Zerin. They mark the site of JEZREEL, _the seed plot of God_ as the name means, and which it probably gained from the extraordinary fertility of the soil.[224] Here stood the “ivory palace” of Ahab and the temple of Astarte with its four hundred priests supported by Jezebel. On the eastern side overlooking a steep rocky descent into the plain was the house of Jezebel, from the window of which she was cast down at the command of Jehu. Killed by the fall, she was left to be devoured by the troops of pariah dogs which to this day prowl and snarl around every oriental city, and are its only scavengers. The ruins of an ancient tower probably mark the spot where the watchman stood looking out along the valley toward the Jordan, and saw Jehu driving furiously towards the city. Though only the lower courses of the original _Migdol_ or watch-tower remain, yet a view may be gained for miles in the direction from which Jehu was approaching, and every incident in the narrative can be made out. A smooth open space outside the city is pointed out as Naboth’s garden. The fountain by which he was slain, and where the blood was washed from the chariot of Ahab is likewise shown, but the biblical narrative seems to point to Samaria rather than to Jezreel as the scene of the murder and the retribution.[225]

A few flat-roofed hovels are all that remains of the beautiful city whose only associations are those of idolatry and lust and bloodshed. One marble sarcophagus, and the fragments of two or three others lie outside the modern village. The crescent moon, the familiar symbol of the goddess of the Zidonians is sculptured upon them. It is possible, perhaps even probable, that these very coffins once held the bones of the royal house which “taught Israel to sin.”

The scene of the great battle between Sisera, the captain of Jabin king of Hazor, and the Israelites under “Deborah the prophetess,” and “Barak, the son of Abinoam,” was at the western end of the plain. Sisera was encamped at the foot of Carmel near the Canaanitish city of Megiddo with “his nine hundred chariots of iron, and all the people that were with him from Harosheth of the Gentiles unto the river of Kishon.” The Kishon is a small stream which rises at the eastern end of Carmel and flows into the Mediterranean. In summer it is nearly dry, but it rises with great rapidity and when swollen by storms of rain becomes a rushing roaring torrent.[226] The little army of Deborah consisted of the men of the northern tribes who had suffered from the oppression of the king of Hazor. Those of the south and east were indifferent to the sufferings of their brethren. “Reuben abode amongst the sheepfolds to hear the bleatings of the flocks,” “Gilead abode beyond Jordan,” “Dan remained in ships,” and “Asher continued on the sea-shore.” But “Zebulun and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives unto the death, in the high places of the field.” With them was a contingent from Ephraim, Benjamin, and Issachar. The small but heroic band of ten thousand men encamped on Mount Tabor, a strong position, which commands a view of the whole plain. At a signal from Deborah, Barak, with his compact and resolute army, rushed down upon the foe and threw them into confusion. Josephus informs us, that a sudden and violent storm of sleet and hail aided the attack. “The stars in their courses fought against Sisera.” The river swelling from a petty brook into a furious torrent completed the rout. “The river of Kishon swept them away, that ancient river, the river Kishon.” Sisera alighting from his chariot fled away on foot, and as a solitary fugitive met his death from a woman’s hand.[227]

No long time elapsed before a new and yet more terrible oppressor was sent as a scourge to chastise “the children of Israel, who again did evil in the sight of the Lord.” Every traveller in the Vale of Esdraelon has seen the black tents of the Bedouins who have crossed the Jordan with their flocks and herds for the rich pasturage which they here find. Until within the last few years these wild maurauders were accustomed to lay waste the whole district, carrying off the crops and the cattle of the peasantry without any check from the corrupt and feeble government. It was from this quarter that the new foe appeared. Vast hordes of these “children of the east ... came up with their cattle and their tents, and they came as grasshoppers for multitude; for both they and their camels were without number.” “They destroyed the increase of the earth, till thou come unto Gaza, and left no sustenance for Israel, neither sheep, nor ox, nor ass.” A “mighty man of valour,” Gideon, the son of Joash, was summoned by the angel of the Lord to undertake the task of deliverance. He began by throwing down the altar to Baal. The invaders at once gathered their forces to crush the rising spirit of resistance. They pitched their tents all along the valley of Jezreel. Gideon and his men were encamped on the mountains of Gilboa. Just where the mountains subside into the plain a spring of water gushes out in such abundance as to form a pool of considerable size, and then flows down to the Jordan. Gideon, who had already reduced his numbers by dismissing to their homes all who were “fearful and afraid,” was now ordered to reduce them still further by bringing them down to the fountain to drink. The great majority went down upon their hands and knees and drank from the stream. But three hundred hardy veterans were satisfied to take a little water in the palms of their hands and “lap it as a dog lappeth,” whilst they stood alert and erect upon their feet. This was the little band by whom God was to work deliverance for Israel. The smallness of the number would show that God “saveth not by many, nor by few,” but by his own power. And the selected few—men vigorous, temperate, and self-denying—were fitting instruments for Him to work with.

Night had now closed over the scene. Gideon and his servant having crept down amidst the sleeping hosts and overheard the narrative of a dream told by one of the invaders to his companions, returned and prepared for the attack. Dividing his men into three companies of a hundred each, they rush upon the unsuspecting enemy. The trumpets peal out their shrill and startling blast; the lamps flash forth in the midst of the tents; the war-cry of Israel—“the sword of the Lord and of Gideon”—is heard rising loud and high above the din; “and the Lord set every man’s sword against his fellow throughout all the host: and the host fled” in wild confusion and disorder to the fords of the Jordan, a few miles to the eastward. Here, as they attempted to cross, they were attacked a second time, suffered a second defeat, and two of their sheiks, Oreb and Zeeb—the Raven and the Wolf—captured and put to death. Gideon and his three hundred heroes, “faint, yet pursuing,” continued to press upon the rear of the flying foe. Coming up with them in Karkor he attacked and defeated them yet a third time. Finding that their kings Zebah and Zalmunna had “slain his brethren, the sons of his mother,” he put them to the sword. This disastrous defeat finally broke up the Bedouin confederacy. Never again whilst the Jewish commonwealth lasted did “the children of the East” attempt an invasion.[228]

The valley which had been the scene of these great victories was next to witness a mournful defeat—that of Saul by the Philistines. The two armies were encamped in nearly the same positions with those of Gideon and the Midianites—the Israelites on Gilboa near the fountain of Jezreel, the Philistines at Aphek, or Shunem, on the opposite side of the valley. Saul, in his moody despair, “when he saw the host of the Philistines, was afraid, and his heart greatly trembled. And when Saul enquired of the Lord, the Lord answered him not, neither by dream, nor by Urim, nor by the prophets.” Like the great captain who long before had encamped on the same spot he undertook a night journey, past the host of the Philistines, to the village of Endor, which lay in the mountains a few miles in the rear of their camp. His interview with the witch whom he went to consult but deepened the dark and gloomy cloud which hung around him. Next morning the battle was joined, the Israelites were defeated, and “fell down slain in the mountains of Gilboa.” The tragic end of Saul, and the pathetic lament of David are too familiar to need further record here.[229]

The inspired narrative contains allusions to other engagements of minor importance as having been fought on this great battle-field: one of these scarcely less mournful than the defeat and death of Saul is recorded in detail. It was towards the close of the Jewish monarchy; that of Israel had already disappeared. Pharaoh Necho, king of Egypt, on his way to attack the Assyrians, was marching through this valley. Josiah, either to preserve the integrity of his territory, or as being in alliance with the king of Assyria, met him at the western end of the plain, near Megiddo. Necho warned him against “meddling” in the conflict which concerned the Assyrians solely, and in which he had no part. The result cannot be told more briefly and simply than in the words of Scripture. “Nevertheless Josiah would not turn his face from him, but disguised himself, that he might fight with him, and hearkened not unto the words of Necho from the mouth of God, and came to fight in the valley of Megiddo. And the archers shot at king Josiah; and the king said to his servants, Have me away; for I am sore wounded. His servants therefore took him out of that chariot, and put him in the second chariot that he had; and they brought him to Jerusalem, and he died, and was buried in one of the sepulchres of his fathers. And all Judah and Jerusalem mourned for Josiah. And Jeremiah lamented for Josiah: and all the singing men and all the singing women spake of Josiah in their lamentations to this day; and made them an ordinance in Israel: and, behold, they are written in the Lamentations.”[230]

One more event yet remains to be spoken of in connection with this famous battle-field. It has been already said that the ridge of Carmel forms one of the southern boundaries of the plain. Its north-western extremity runs out into the Mediterranean, and is crowned by the convent of Mar Elyas from which the Carmelite monks take their name. At its south-eastern end, a short distance below the summit, is a level plateau which looks down upon Jezreel and commands an extensive view over the whole plain. Its modern Arabic name is EL MUHRAKAH (_the place of burning_, or _of sacrifice_). A perennial spring, which is said never to fail even in the severest droughts, furnishes a copious supply of water. Near the foot of the hill is a mound called the Tel Kasis (_the hill of the priests_). The river Kishon which flows along the plain immediately below the plateau is called the Nahr el Mukatta (_the river of slaughter_).[231] All these names naturally connect themselves with the sacrifice of Elijah, who on this plateau brought together the priests of Baal, and when they had failed to win an answer from their idol gods, built an altar, and drawing water from the fountain which after three years’ drought still furnished an adequate supply, poured it over the sacrifice. The Lord God of Israel answered by fire. The appeal was irresistible. The whole people exclaimed with one voice—“The Lord, He is God; the Lord, He is God.” Within sight of the idolatrous city, and beneath the eyes of the king, the apostate priests were seized, dragged down to the mound and river, and slain.

The prophet now ascends to the top of the hill just above, from which a magnificent view of the Mediterranean is obtained. Burying his face in his mantle, in importunate prayer, he sends his servant to look out toward the sea. At last a cloud is descried no larger than a man’s hand. For three years the sky had been cloudless. Now the harbinger of rain is gratefully welcomed. The prophet returns with the glad tidings to the monarch—“Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stop thee not.” These words have caused some perplexity to commentators. Their meaning becomes perfectly clear as read on the spot. The river Kishon, easily fordable at this point, and, doubtless, perfectly dry after the protracted drought, would soon become a rushing, furious torrent, as in the days of Sisera. Besides which the Plain of Esdraelon consists of a rich alluvial soil which after a heavy rain-fall becomes absolutely impassable for carriages, and is difficult even for horsemen or pedestrians. If Ahab is to return to Jezreel he must do so at once. “And it came to pass, in the meanwhile, that the heaven was black with clouds and wind, and there was a great rain. And Ahab rode and went to Jezreel. And the hand of the Lord was on Elijah, and he girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab to the entrance of Jezreel.”[232]

This famous battle-field, the scene of Israel’s most glorious victories and most disastrous defeats, finds a place in the prophecies of the New, as well as in the histories of the Old Testament. The name by which it is commonly known, Esdraelon, is but a Grecised form of the Hebrew Jezreel. It was likewise called the valley of Megiddo from the town near which some of its most desperate conflicts raged. Hence in the book of Revelation it is spoken of as “the place called in the Hebrew tongue Armageddon” (_the hill_, or _fortress of Megiddo_). This is not the place in which to discuss the precise meaning of the prophecy, nor to enquire whether the inspired writer indicated a particular locality as the scene of the final conflict, or used this historical plain as typical of the battles yet to be fought between the powers of light and darkness. One thing is clear, that the struggles of which the valley has been the theatre only foreshadowed that more desperate conflict which awaits us when “the spirits of devils, working miracles, go forth unto the kings of the earth and of the whole world, to gather them to the battle of that day of God Almighty.”[233] Whatever the time, the place, the nature of that final conflict may be, its terribleness cannot be doubted as we read the descriptions given of it in the visions of Patmos. But the issue is certain. The wars of ancient Israel were waged with doubtful fortune—victory and defeat alternated. But in that “great day of God,” though the battle seem to hang long in suspense, the victory is sure. The ”Captain of our Salvation” “goeth forth conquering, and to conquer.” “He must reign till He hath put all enemies under His feet.” Nor is the conflict altogether future. Even now it rages around us, and we are summoned to take part in it. Neutrality and indifference are impossible. “He that is not with us is against us.” May the solemn words of reproof and warning spoken of those who stood aloof in the Valley of Esdraelon sink into our hearts. “Curse ye Meroz! said the angel of the Lord, Curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof! Because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord, against the mighty.” “How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.”[234]

NORTHERN PALESTINE, OR GALILEE.

SOUTHERN GALILEE AND NAZARETH.

IT is difficult to fix with precision the boundaries of Galilee and Samaria. Originally the Samaritan kingdom included the whole territory of the ten northern tribes from Dan to Bethel; but very soon it shrank within much narrower limits. Galilee, at first a small “circle,” as the name means, around Kadesh Naphtali, on the frontiers of Tyre,[235] had in the time of our Lord become a province of great extent stretching southward to the ridge of Carmel and the mountains of Gilboa. The Plain of Esdraelon, which under the kings of Israel had been in the centre of Samaria, was under the Romans its northern boundary, and belonged to Galilee. Jezreel and the other historic sites in the neighbourhood being so closely connected with the southern kingdoms have been spoken of in the preceding chapter. We now proceed to the region lying to the north of the plain.

Galilee thus defined consists of a series of fertile hills and valleys, stretching down from Hermon in the north to Tabor and Little Hermon on the south. Its uplands are better wooded, its valleys and plains are richer, its natural beauty greater than the rest of Palestine. Van de Velde truly describes it as “a land rich in beauty and fertility. A thick wood of oaks and other trees continued for a considerable way over the heights, again through the valleys, but everywhere characterised by a luxuriance of verdure, by which you can recognise at once the fertility of Naphtali’s inheritance.” It was a region in which Asher should “dip his foot in oil;” Zebulun and Issachar “rejoice in their going out, and in their tents” and “suck of the abundance of the seas, and of treasures hid in the sand;” and Naphtali be “satisfied with favour, and full with the blessing of the Lord.”[236]

Among the hills of Southern Galilee TABOR is conspicuous, not so much from its greater elevation—it only rises one thousand four hundred feet from the plain—as from its peculiar form. It is a truncated cone, detached from the surrounding heights, and forms a very striking object from whichever side it is approached. Its general contour reminded me of the Wrekin in Shropshire. Formerly it was richly wooded to the very summit; but the timber has been cut down, and now only a few clumps or detached trees spring from the verdant turf which clothes its sides. The view from the summit is magnificent, commanding a panorama from the mountains of Gilead to the Mediterranean, from Hermon, with its snowy summits, to Ebal and Gerizim on the south. Well might the Psalmist exclaim,

“The north and the south Thou hast created them:
Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in Thy name.”

Its traditional claim to have been the scene of the transfiguration is now universally abandoned. This must be sought for farther north, among the gorges of the Hermon, near Banias, the ancient Cæsarea Philippi.

In crossing the hills of Galilee from Esdraelon to Nazareth, we pass three villages, each with a place in the inspired record. The first is Sôlem, the ancient SHUNEM. It lies at the foot of Little Hermon, about three miles from the fountain of Jezreel. Luxuriant orange groves and corn-fields, fenced with hedges of prickly pear, encompass a cluster of mud-walled, flat-topped hovels. The inhabitants seemed a merry, good-humoured, contented race, fearing nothing but a Bedouin raid, or a visit from the Turkish tax-gatherer. Blocks of marble, with traces of sculpture upon them, probably brought from the ruins of Jezreel, are worked into the mud-walls of the village, and the largest house has a couple of willow-pattern plates, like those we noticed at Bethel, with a dish to match, over the doorway. But there is nothing to remind us that this is the scene of one of the most touching incidents which the Bible records. It was here that a “great woman” of the village, “the good, kind Shunammite,” made “a little chamber on the wall, and set there a bed, and a stool, and a candlestick,” that the prophet might freely pass in and out. Content to dwell “among her own people” she refused to “be spoken for to the king, or to the captain of the host.” And when a son was granted to her old age her cup of happiness was full. Whilst scarcely a trace of the ancient village exists, the surrounding scenery remains unchanged. It was in these luxuriant corn-fields that the child, smitten by sunstroke, “said to his father, My head, my head. And he said to a lad, Carry him to his mother. And when he had taken him, and brought him to his mother, he sat on her knees till noon, and then died.” We follow the bereaved mother, choking down her sobs, and saying “It is well,” as she rides hurriedly across the plain to the prophet’s haunt on Carmel, and sympathize with her joy as she receives back her son.[237]

A little farther to the north stands another village, to which a more tragic interest attaches—ENDOR, the goal of Saul’s journey the night before his death. The Israelites, as we have seen, were encamped near the fountain of Jezreel on Mount Gilboa, the Philistines at Shunem, about midway between Endor and the camp of Saul. The king at the peril of his life gropes his way past the outposts of the enemy to reach the woman who is to reveal to him the secrets of the future. The village retains its ancient name unchanged. And one of the numerous caves still, as formerly, used as dwellings may have afforded a fitting abode for the miserable and wicked woman whose heart relented towards the doomed and despairing king.[238]

A ride of about fifty minutes brings us from Endor to NAIN. It is a small, poor village, standing on the shoulder of a hill, looking down on one arm of the Valley of Esdraelon. Not very far from Nazareth, and visible across the valley from the hill above the town, it is by no means improbable that our Lord may have known the young man and his widowed mother. If, as many suppose, He was Himself “the only son of his mother, and she was a widow,” a special reason for the miracle is at once discovered in His deep human sympathy with a case so like His own. A steep path leads up the hill side to a group of rock-hewn graves, marking the site of the ancient burial-place of the town. It was on this very path that our Lord saw the weeping mother and “had compassion, and said unto her, Weep not.” Turning to the bier, His word of pity became a word of power, and “He said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him unto his mother.”[239]

But a spot of yet deeper and more absorbing interest than any we have visited since we left Jerusalem draws us onward, and we hasten over the intervening space till we reach NAZARETH. Up among the hills to the north of the plain is a valley about a mile in length, and perhaps a quarter of a mile in breadth. Several smaller valleys run out from it, and at the junction of two or three of these it expands into a basin over which the hills rise to a height of four hundred or five hundred feet. “It seems,” says Dr. Richardson, rather fancifully, “as if fifteen mountains met to form an enclosure for this delightful spot: they rise round it like the edge of a shell to guard it from intrusion. It is a rich and beautiful field in the midst of barren mountains.” The bottom of the basin is bright with gardens and orchards, divided by hedges of prickly pear twelve or fourteen feet high. The town stands on the western side of the valley and rises a little way up the slope of the hill. It has a brighter, cleaner, and more prosperous look than any town we have seen since leaving Nablus. The population was estimated by Robinson at four thousand. It has increased since then, and is now probably about five thousand. Of these a large proportion are Christian in profession, though it is to be feared that their conduct is little in keeping with the pure and high morality of the gospel. Two large monasteries, one of the Greek, the other of the Latin rite, contain a large number of monks. A recently established Protestant mission seems to be efficient and successful.

The inhabitants of Nazareth, like those of Bethlehem, are deservedly famed for their personal beauty. I was fortunate enough to be present at the wedding festivities of a wealthy landed proprietor in the town. The bride, unfortunately, was absolutely ugly; but I was greatly struck by the fine features of many of the women and the noble bearing of the men. Dr. Porter says truly, “If we go out and sit for an hour of an evening by the little fountain, we shall see many a face which Raphael might have chosen as a study when about to paint his _Madonna della Seggiola_, and many a figure that Phidias might have selected as a model for Venus.”

Monkish legends and traditions of course are rife throughout the town and neighbourhood. Always offensive, they are doubly so here, both from their absurdity and from the contrast they afford to the silence of Scripture respecting the youth and early manhood of our Lord. We are shown the workshop of Joseph, the house of Mary, and the place from which it was carried away to find its final resting-place at Loretto! A cave is pointed out as the place of the Annunciation. A large slab of stone is declared to be the table at which our Lord and His disciples ate before and after the Resurrection. The traditional Mount of Precipitation is two miles away from the town in defiance of the express statement of Scripture that it was on “the brow of the hill on which the city was built.”[240]

The fountain of Mary at the eastern end of the town is a place of deep interest. At all hours of the day groups of girls may be seen who have come hither to draw water. It is the common centre around which the whole life of the village gathers. The pilgrim stops to quench his thirst, the shepherd to water his flocks, the girls, with merry song and laughter, fill their pitchers, linger for a gossip with their friends, then poising the vessel upon their shoulders, walk away with light and graceful step. The fountain has been here from time immemorial, and seems always to have been the main, if not the only source of water-supply for the inhabitants. It was to the fountain, which now bears her name, that Mary came, day by day, amongst the village maidens, to fill her pitcher and return to her home. The _Protevangelion_, one of the earliest of the Apocryphal gospels, says that it was here that she received the angelic salutation which marked her out as the mother of the Lord. The narrative however seems to indicate what the probabilities of the case imply, that the event happened in the seclusion of her own dwelling.

A hasty and general survey of the site of Nazareth produces the impression that it contains no cliff down which Jesus could have been “cast headlong.” The town lying along the lower slope of the hill, no steep declivity is visible. But a more careful examination corrects the error and confirms the narrative of the evangelist. I found two or three precipitous walls of rock of thirty or forty feet in depth. One of them had a considerable accumulation of debris at the bottom which if cleared away would probably give twenty feet more. Dean Stanley’s remarks are well worth quoting. “‘They rose’ it is said of the infuriated inhabitants of the city, ‘and cast Him out of the city, and brought Him to a brow of the mountain on which the city was built, so as to cast Him down the cliff.’[241] Most readers probably imagine a town built on the summit of a mountain, from which summit the intended precipitation was to take place. This, as I have said, is not the situation of Nazareth, yet its position is in strict accordance with the narrative. It is built upon, that is on the side of ‘a mountain,’ but the brow is not beneath but over the town, and such a cliff as is here implied is to be found in the abrupt face of the limestone rock, about thirty or forty feet high, overhanging the Maronite convent at the south-west extremity of the town.”

To gain a true idea of the scenes amidst which the first thirty years of our Lord’s earthly life were passed we must climb the hills which rise above the town. There is very little in the Nazareth of to-day to recall that of eighteen hundred years ago. Not a single building is now standing which was standing then. It is even doubtful whether the site remains unaltered: and we know that important changes have passed over the scenery of the neighbourhood. The soil has lain fallow and unproductive for centuries. A silent, unpeopled solitude stretches for miles around us. But in our Lord’s days Galilee was like a garden in its luxuriant fertility. The hills, now so bare and barren, were terraced and cultivated to their very summits. A numerous and thriving population occupied the soil. “The little hills rejoiced on every side; the pastures were clothed with flocks; the valleys also were covered over with corn.”[242] But amidst all these changes the great natural landmarks remain the same. As we stand on the ridge which rises just above the town, we know that we tread on the very spots where Jesus of Nazareth often walked, and that we look on the landscape which was beneath His eye. The hills, the valleys, the sea, the plains make up a scene of surpassing beauty, the main features of which are unaltered by the lapse of centuries. Below us lies the little town in the peaceful seclusion of its quiet valley—far from the busy crowd, aside from the thronged highways. On the west the sun is sinking down into the sea, leaving a broad line of light across the Mediterranean. Hermon, on the north, with its crown of snow, glows in the fading light. “The excellency of Carmel and Sharon” stretch away to the south. Eastward the eye ranges over the hills of Galilee, the valley of the Jordan, and the rich plains of Gilead beyond. The view though somewhat less extensive than that from Tabor is even more beautiful. The hours of a Sabbath afternoon and evening spent in meditation and prayer on the thymy turf of this glorious upland have left behind them memories which no lapse of time can efface or weaken.