LETTER IV.
REMESES OF DAMASCUS TO THE KING HIS FATHER.
Cave in Horeb, Wilderness of Midian.
My dear and royal Father:
I have been two weeks a guest of your venerable friend, the Hebrew, Moses. My journey across the desert was agreeable from its novelty, and my sensations upon the boundless waste, were combined emotions of solitude and sublimity, similar to those I experienced on the great sea. Our route, after leaving the land of Egypt, continued eastward for five days—most of the time in the Arabian desert, with the mountains of Etham on our right, far to the south. Having on the sixth day passed round the western horn of the Sea of Arabia, we turned southwardly into the desert of Shur, which terminated at the base of a low range of hills, of mingled cliff and pasture-land. A valley opened between, and after three days' journeying, amid vales filled with herds and Arabian villages, we entered a mountainous region, the sea being on our right. Every hour the scenery became more grand and rugged, until the ridges, constantly rising in altitude, stretched far southwardly, and terminated in a majestic twin-peaked mountain, midway between the two arms or horns of the sea.
"That is Horeb," said the chief of the caravan. "It is in the land of Midian, though remote from the town of the king. In that mountain the royal flocks are pastured, and there you will find your father's friend Moses the Hebrew, either with his shepherds and flocks or in the retirement of his cave."
The same evening we entered the valley of Mount Horeb, which rose in sublime majesty, with its double crown, far into the skies above us. We had turned an angle of the mountain, which rose as abruptly as a pyramid from the plain, and were entering a gorge through which a road lay to the city of the king—a day's journey distant—when I beheld, from my camel, a shepherd standing upon a rock and leaning upon his staff—his sheep reclining about him. He was a tall, venerable man, with dark locks mingled with white, and a beard, like snow for whiteness, that descended over his breast. There was a majesty, and yet simplicity, in his aspect and costume, which impressed me, as he stood—the evening sun lighting up his kingly visage—upon a rock, like the statue of the god of the mountain-pass.
My heart instinctively said, "This is Moses!"
"Lo! there stands the son-in-law of Jethro!" said the merchant.
I immediately caused my camel to kneel, and descended to the ground with haste and joy. The next moment I was bending before thy friend, my dear father, crying, with reverent feelings of emotion—
"I am Remeses, son of Sesostris, thy friend! Venerable father, give me thy blessing, for I bear thy name!"
He regarded me for an instant with surprise, and then raising me, embraced me and said, a holy radiance of love and joy illumining his face—
"I see thy father, and hear his voice, in thee! Welcome, my son! How fares the good king? Hast thou ventured across the desert to see the exiled Hebrew?" he asked, with a smile of benignity and pleasure, as he gazed upon me. "The sight of thee brings up all the past!"
His voice was disturbed with emotion; though I perceived it had also a slight natural embarrassment of speech. I related why I had come, and gave him your messages of love. He took me to his cave, or grotto, which is like those of the sacred priests in Lebanon. The caravan encamped, near by, that night, and I remained in the company of the wise and virtuous sage. We conversed, for many hours, of you, of Tyre, of my grandmother, of Queen Amense, of the Hebrews in bondage, and his certain hope of their speedy deliverance.
How happy the princely old man was to hear from you, my dear father! What a venerable and holy friendship exists between you!—fresh and green at fourscore, as in the fire and impulse of youth!
The next day, I accompanied him to the chief city of Midian. There I beheld his matronly wife, Zipporah—and his two sons, beautiful and ingenuous youth of sixteen and eighteen. I was also presented to the venerable Ru-el Jethro, or the King Jethro, now one hundred and one years old, but retaining the full vigor of manhood. He described to me pleasantly, under what circumstances he first met Moses, forty years ago.
"My seven daughters," said the patriarchal Prince of Midian, "were with my shepherds at the well, near the city, drawing water for the flocks; for the prince of the mountain having no water, had thrice sent his shepherds to draw it from this well, when we had but little for our own herds. I sent my daughters, thinking that they would reverence their presence; but the mountain shepherds would have driven them away, when a stranger, who was seated by the well, rose up, and with great courage chastised the assailants. Though many in number, they fled from him in great fear, when he turned and bade my daughters remain and heed them not; and he helped them water the flocks.
"When they returned to me earlier than I looked for them, I inquired the cause, and they replied—
"'An Egyptian, a mighty man of valor, delivered us out of the hand of the shepherds, and aided us also in drawing water for our flocks.' 'Where is he?' I asked. 'Why is it that ye have left this brave stranger at the well?' They answered: 'He is an Egyptian;' for such from his dress, and speech, and looks, they believed him to be. I then sent my daughter Zipporah after him, to invite him to come and eat bread with me. From that day we became friends, and when I learned his story, that he was a Hebrew, and like myself, a descendant of Abram, I gave him Zipporah to wife, and he was content to remain in the land, and is now the greatest and wisest man in it, for God is with him."
I was much interested in this brief account, my dear father, and believe that you will be, as it is a connecting link in the life of Moses, that has been hitherto wanting.
The following week, I retired with Moses to the mountains, and here I pass my days, listening to his sublime teachings. Not all the wisdom and learning of Egypt can compare with his sublime knowledge. The secrets of nature, the mysteries of creation, seem unveiled to his intellectual vision. It is his habit to pass an hour or two every night in prayer, upon the mountain, beneath the silent stars, communing alone with his God, as if he were the high-priest of the earth, Horeb his altar, the universe his temple, and his theme the Hebrew nation in Egypt. Ah! my dear father, if God is to deliver them from Egypt by the hand of man, my heart tells me that Moses will be appointed their deliverer; for who on earth has so at heart their misery, or supplicates Heaven so earnestly for aid in their behalf? It is true he is an old man, seven years your senior, but his step is as firm as mine, his eye clear and brave, his natural force not abated, and his looks those of a man in his prime—so healthful is this mountain life, and the simple routine of his days.
He has written to you. I shall be the bearer of his letter, as well as of this, which I write in the door of his grotto, facing the valley, with the sea beyond. There go the ships of Ezion-geber, and the galleys of Ind. Far to the west is the blue line of the shores of Arabian Egypt, and to the east the rocky land of Arabia, and Eastern Midian. The prospect is sublime, and, at this hour of sunset, while purple mists are upon the hills, and a golden light upon the sea, it is beautiful and serene.
I had almost neglected to inform you, that your learned and eloquent friend Aaron, the brother of Moses, was lately in Midian, and was, for a time, an assistant priest of the sacrifices in the city; but has now returned to Goshen, where he married many years ago. His sister Miriam is here with Moses, and is one of the most majestic women I ever beheld. She is in her ninety-fourth year, but is as erect and buoyant in her step as a young and resolute woman. With her snow-white hair, piercing black eyes, and queenly mien, she looks like the venerable priestess of the sun at Baal-Phegor. The mother of Moses also dwells at Midian; but I think their father died in Arabia Deserta; for thither they fled from Egypt, before coming finally into Midian. Aaron is spoken of here as a noble-looking and stately priest, when, in his flowing robes, he used to offer sacrifices according to the simple rites of the Midianites, in the plain temple hewn from the rock, in which they worship God.
Farewell, my dear father. I am not surprised that you love Moses. He has won my heart.
Your affectionate son,
Remeses of Damascus.