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!"