When I first set foot upon Mesopotamia my emotion was almost as great as when I caught my first view of “The River,” “The Great River,” “The River of the East,” “The River of Asia,” as the Euphrates is variously designated in the Sacred Text. I was at last in the Aram-Naharaim of the Jews—“The Syria of the Two Rivers,” known to the Arabs as Al-Jezireh—The Island—because it is compassed by the Tigris and the Euphrates. I was now actually treading the soil of the first country I had ever read about, and surveying the land which first enchained my youthful fancy. But it was not the Mesopotamia of my boyhood dreams that I now beheld; a land of teeming millions of happy shepherds and contented husbandmen; of smiling fields of grain and attractive gardens of luscious fruits; of splendid cities with imposing temples and magnificent palaces. Far from being, as I once pictured it, the most attractive and flourishing region of the world, it was, as far as the eye could reach, a land entirely bare of trees and almost devoid of even the most humble village—a land of utter desolation which exhibited on every side almost a complete cessation of that exuberant life which was here once so dominant.
As I contemplated the sandy wilderness before me, it required a special effort of the imagination to believe that it was once the home of a powerful race which has long disappeared. It recalled, rather, scenes I had witnessed in the arid Sahara or in the barren wastes of northern Chile and southern Peru. The only traces now left here of their once mighty empire are the numerous tells which dot the wide expanse of the desert plain. Beneath the superincumbent earth of these frequent mounds, are all that remains of the homes of the people who inhabited these parts in the long, long ago. Some of these tells, which rise up everywhere in this region like islands in the sea, may some day, under the well-directed work of the archæologist, yield up long concealed monuments that will be of priceless value to the historian and add immensely to our rapidly increasing knowledge of the former inhabitants of this once famous land. Recent discoveries in so many other parts of Mesopotamia render such a conjecture eminently probable.
We interrupted our journey between the Euphrates and the Tigris by making a short side trip to Urfa, formerly the great city of Edessa. It, like Tarsus, was once a celebrated literary center and for that reason, if for no other, it had, for at least one of our party, a very special attraction.
Like all the old cities of the East, Urfa is rich in myths and legends as well as in historic memories both sacred and profane. According to a Jewish legend which identified it with the Arach of the Bible, it was founded by Nimrod, “the mighty hunter before the Lord.”[298] Another legend attributes the city’s foundation to Enoch, the Hermes Trismegistes of the Orientals. Equally fabulous was the tradition about the tent of the patriarch Jacob, which, it was averred, was preserved in Edessa until it was destroyed by a thunderbolt in the reign of Emperor Antoninus. But these and similar tales regarding the antiquity of Edessa are all based on myths and fables, for its history dates only from the beginning of the little Kingdom of Osrhoene, which was not founded until 132 B. C.
There is, however, a legend—one of the most beautiful of the early Christian Church—which is connected with Edessa and which deserves more than a passing notice. It was supposed for a long time to explain why Edessa became, at an early date, not only the first Christian city of Mesopotamia but also its greatest religious center, and to account for its preponderating influence in the spread of the Gospel throughout the Orient. Humanly speaking, such good fortune could not have befallen so humble a community as that of Osrhoene, which was at first composed of but a small number of Christians, and which, in the natural course of events, would have made but slow progress in a pagan or Jewish environment which, if not openly hostile, was decidedly indifferent.
No, Edessa, it was fondly believed, had been from the beginning marked by the seal of special privileges, and had been destined by Our Lord to receive the saving truths of the Gospel directly from His apostle.[299] This is the meaning of the legend usually known as “The Legend of Abgar,” which was developed at Edessa towards the middle of the third century and which for centuries had an extraordinary vogue in the West as well as in the East, among Mohammedans as well as among Christians.[300]
According to this legend, the report of the miracles of Our Lord, having reached Edessa, Abgar, who was King of certain tribes beyond the Euphrates and was afflicted by an incurable malady, sent to Jerusalem a messenger with a letter addressed to Our Savior, begging Him to come to cure him. But Jesus replied that He could not go to Edessa but that He would, after executing His mission and ascending to heaven, send him one of His disciples who would effect his cure and at the same time announce to him the tidings of salvation.
Eusebius of Cæsarea, “The Father of Church History,” is our chief authority concerning the letters which are said to have passed between Abgar and Our Lord. They were, the historian assures us, long preserved in the archives of Edessa.
The copy of the letter of the King to Our Lord reads:
Abgarus, ruler of Edessa, to Jesus the excellent Savior who has appeared in the country of Jerusalem, greeting. I have heard the reports of thee and of thy cures as performed by thee without medicines or herbs. For it is said that thou makest the blind to see and the lame to walk, that thou cleansest lepers and castest out impure spirits and demons, and that thou healest those afflicted with lingering disease and raisest the dead. And having heard all these things concerning thee I have concluded that one of two things must be true: either thou art God, and having come down from heaven, thou doest these things, or else thou, who doest these things, art the Son of God. I have therefore written to thee to ask thee that thou wouldest take the trouble to come to me and heal the disease which I have. For I have heard that the Jews are murmuring against thee and are plotting to injure thee. But I have a very small yet noble city which is great enough for us both.