The day was now far spent. Three hours of hard riding were before us, and it was necessary to reach Nablous before sundown or the gates would be shut. Riding through ancient towns, over plantations of figs, and amid the most enchantingscenery, we passed, in less than half an hour, the hamlet of Sâwieh, perched on a lofty ridge on the left, and a short distance beyond we came to an old castle on the right, shaded by a noble oak, whose vast dimensions and majestic form recalled the famous oaks of Mamre. Descending into a deep valley running at right angles with the great northern route, on the north was Kubalân, and on the south Yetna, high up in the eternal hills, amid gardens of figs and olives, as if suspended in the air. Such a view is worth a pilgrimage to see. Toiling up the opposite side of the valley, in half an hour we gained the summit, and the beauties of Ephraim lay like a landscape of glory before us. Interjections were faint symbols of the joyous emotions awakened by the scene. The white limestone rocks and verdureless mountains of the south had given place to the vine-clad hills of the north, crowned with the benediction of the dying patriarch,“God make thee as Ephraim.”[476] At our feet lay the great plain of El-Mukhnah, unbroken by fence or tower, dotted with groves, and rich in fields of wheat and corn. Spreading out more than a mile and a half in breadth, and extending more than seven miles north and south, it is bounded on the east by a range of low, dark hills, and from its western border rise Gerizim and Ebal, the former crowned with a small white chapel reflecting the setting sun. Far away to the northeast, rising like a column of alabaster against the calm blue sky of Damascus, was Mount Hermon, the symbol of a purer world. Rapidly descending into the plain below and turning northward, we soon passed the large town of Hawâra, built on the mountain slope, and inhabited by a turbulent community. Just beyond the village the road branches; the path to the left, after winding round the base of Gerizim and crossing a mountain spur, enters the Vale of Shechem near Nablous; the other path, continuing up the plain, leads to the city by way of Jacob’s Well. Choosing the latter, we found it the best road in Palestine. After following the base of the mountain for a while, the path diverges to the centre of the plain and passes through the most enchanting scenery. Like a thing of beauty, the memory of that evening’s ride still lingers in my mind. The deepening shadows of Gerizim had thrown their lengthened forms over the plains; shepherds were returning with their flocks; peasantswere plodding homeward their weary way; and in the dim twilight of departing day, and amid that solemn silence which awakens profound reflections, we reached the patriarchal well. Intending to visit this interesting spot again, we ascended the Vale of Nablous and entered the ancient city of Shechem just as the old gate-keeper was turning the ponderous key. Gladly dismounting after the exploits of such a day, we led our jaded horses over the flag-paved streets of the city, exciting the curiosity of an idle crowd of Shechemites, and affording them fresh materials for village gossip. It was nine o’clock when we found our host, who was the Christian school-teacher of the Protestant Mission. Receiving us with great politeness, he led us up a long flight of stone steps into a large clean room, where, after a simple repast, we spread our mats and blankets for the night.
NABLOUS.
Ranking with Damascus, Hebron, and Jerusalem in the antiquity of its origin and the importance of its history, Shechem, or the modern town of Nablous, is among the oldest cities in Palestine.Coming from Chaldea, Abraham pitched his tent on the fertile plains of Mukhnah, “in the place of Sichem, in the plain of Moreh.”[477]Nearly two centuries later his grandson Jacob came from Mesopotamia to“Shalem, a city of Shechem, and pitched his tent before the city, and bought a parcel of a field, at the hand of the children of Hamor, for one hundred pieces of money, and erected there an altar, and called it El-Elohe-Israel.”[478] Here Simeon and Levi plotted the murder of the whole male population of the town to avenge their dishonored sister, and, exposed by this act of indiscretion to the insults and attacks of the adjacent villagers,Jacob was compelled to remove to Hebron.[479] Retaining possession of these pasture-fields, hither he sent Joseph to search for his brethren,whom “a certain man found wandering in a field,” and directed him to Dothan.[480]
Four hundred years afterward, having achieved the conquest of Ai, Joshua led his triumphant hosts over the Jordan into this vale; upon Ebal he reared the first Jewish altar in Samaria;and from this and its companion mountain caused to be read the blessings and cursings of the Law.[481]Two and a half centuries later, Abimelech seized this city and was proclaimedking, which gave rise to the beautiful parable of Jotham.[482] Hither came Rehoboam to be crowned king of Israel; and in the same year here occurred the coronation of Jeroboam, under whom the twelve tribes revolted,and Shechem became the royal city of the new monarchy.[483] During the long captivity of the Jews in Assyria, Nablous rose to be the chief city of the Samaritans, who were destined to act such a conspicuous part in sacred history. Being instructed in the Jewish religion, they reared upon the summit of Mount Gerizim a rival temple to that in Jerusalem, and became the religious and political enemies of the Jews. Four hundred and fifty years after the erection of this temple, the Vale of Shechem was hallowed by the presence and teachings of Jesus and his twelve apostles. In the year 89 A.D. it was the birthplace of Justin, the philosopher and martyr, one of the earliest and most learned of the Christian fathers. From the days of the Roman conquest to the present time it has shared the varied fortunes of the Crescent and the Cross, and to-day is subject to the sceptre of the False Prophet.
Nablous is situated in one of the most delightful vales in Palestine. A garden-like valley opens from the Plain of Mukhnah and runs nearly east and west, with Ebal on the north and Gerizim on the south. Standing less than two miles up the vale, the city covers the roots of Gerizim, extending toward the opposite mountain. Of its 8000 inhabitants, 50 are Jews, 150 Samaritans, 500 Christians, and over 7000 Moslems. Its narrow streets, thronged with a busy multitude—its stone dwellings, crowned with small domes—its mosques, with their graceful minarets—and its numerous bazars, filled with fruit and other commodities, remind the traveler of Jerusalem; but the streets are less light and airy than those of the Holy City, as the buildings, projecting over them, supported by arches, impart to them a tunnel-like appearance. Except a spacious Saracenic doorway, now the portal of a mosque, a marble sarcophagus, now a water-trough, and a few prostrate columns of granite, limestone, and marble, there are no antiquities worthy of a moment’s attention. The modern Shechemites are the chief cotton-growers, oil-makers, and soap manufacturers of Palestine. The valleys and hill-sides are covered with olive-trees, from the berries of which is extractedthe precious oil. In the adjacent fields cotton is raised in large quantities for home consumption and exportation. Regarded as the best quality grown in the dominions of the Turkish empire, thousands of bales are yearly exported to Europe. The present citizens of the town afford another illustration that the character of a people, no less than their names and social customs, are handed down from generation to generation. They are infamous for their turbulent and fanatical reputation in the past, and more street-fights occur in Nablous than in any other Syrian city. The rebellious spirit that rose three thousand years ago against the government of Rehoboam is still dominant, and the Shechemites are among the most troublesome of the sultan’s subjects, obeying or rebelling as interest dictates or passion inclines. It required the powerful and cruel arm of Ibrahim Pasha to crush them, though not without a long and bloody struggle. Jews, Samaritans, and Christians live among those turbulent children of the Prophet only by sufferance, and the crimes of theft and murder perpetrated on them are seldom punished by the weak and timorous Turkish officials.
The Jews have a small synagogue within the walls, the picture of poverty and wretchedness. Of the 500 Christians, most are of the Greek Church, and worship in an edifice at once old and filthy. The Protestant Christian Mission is under the protection of the English and Russian governments, and is accomplishing much good in the education of the young. The mission school, under the care of our host, was held in a room adjoining the one we occupied. Accepting his invitation, we spent an hour with his pupils: there were present from forty to fifty boys, from three to fifteen years of age. Attired in Syrian costume, they were clean and pretty in their appearance, and modest and obedient in their behavior. Sitting on their heels, they were engaged in writing with a reed not unlike, in form and size, our common pencils. Calling up one by one, from the least to the greatest, the master exhibited specimens of penmanship which, as far as I was capable of judging of the graceful Arabic characters, were creditable to the young penmen. As they seemed anxious to know about the schools and children of America, I made them a brief speech, which was interpreted by our polite host.
From their wealth, social position, and historic importance,the Samaritans are by far the most interesting religious body in Nablous. The Bible account of their origin and history invests them with a peculiar charm, and imparts to the seat of their ancient empire an interest seldom equaled in the stories of romance. Hoping to effectually subdue Palestine to their powerful sway and restore it to the rites of idol worship, the Assyrian conqueror led the Jews of Samaria into captivity, and repeopled their depopulated cities with colonists from the distant East. During the long period that intervened between the captivity and the colonization, the bears, panthers, wolves, and jackals from the Heights of Hermon and the jungles of the Jordan had so far penetrated into the heart of the country, and had multiplied to such a degree, as to endanger the lives of the colonists. Being polytheists themselves, they ascribed the evil to the local divinities, whose worship they knew not how to perform. Complaining to their king, he sent them a Jewish priest, who taught them the name and worship of Jehovah. With a curtness that savors of irony, the inspired historian adds,“They feared the Lord and served their own gods.”[484] National pride, and contempt for their origin and mixed religion, led the Jews, in after years, to despise the colonists, and being thus scorned by those from whom they had reason to look for truth and righteousness, the Samaritans in turn became exclusive. Multiplying in numbers and increasing in wealth, in process of time they erected a temple on the summit of Gerizim. To them this mount became their Moriah, and in the lapse of ages an invented tradition designated it as the scene of the offering of Isaac. By a better title it shared the solemnity and significance of Mount Sinai, as from its slopes Joshua proclaimed the Law; and the vale beneath became a second Râhah, since the hosts of Israel gathered there to hear the blessings and cursings of the divine commandments. With honest pride they contemplated their surrounding plains as the camping-ground of the patriarchs prior to their pilgrimage to the south, and as the scene of the coronation of the son of Solomon. Turning their attention to commerce, they became merchants in Egypt, and, traveling westward, in the fifth century they had a synagogue in Rome. Continuing to live under the varied fortunes and vicissitudes of empire, the existence of this present remnant is one of the most remarkableinstances of the tenacity of national life in the annals of the world. Numbering 130 souls—the sum of all that remain of a once proud and mighty kingdom—they cling to their ancient seat of empire with undying fondness. Adhering to the Jewish law, which forbids marriage with foreigners, and numbering more males than females, not less than twenty men are doomed to involuntary celibacy. Industrious and thrifty, they dwell in their own houses, pursuing their vocations and maintaining their community with comparative ease. In their physique and apparel, in their intelligence and morals, in their social happiness and general behavior, they are the superior class among the citizens of Nablous. Possessing a solitary synagogue in the western part of the town, they observe their religious rites with much regularity. They have a school, under the direction of a shrewd, intelligent Samaritan. Their high-priest is a venerable man, who is assisted in the duties of his sacred office by two sons, the elder of whom will succeed his father to the office and rank he now holds. Besides a collection of hymns, they have in their possession the Book of Joshua in manuscript, with commentaries on the Law, and a copy of the Pentateuch in the original character. They claim for the latter that it is 3300 years old, and was written by “Abishua, the son of Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron.” Regarded as a treasure of incalculable value, it is preserved in a metallic case, and deposited in their synagogue under the care of the high-priest. The tattered, patched, and soiled parchment forms an immense scroll, the ends of which are attached to two rollers. Such is their superstitious reverence for this antique manuscript, that they deem it a pardonable offense to exhibit a duplicate as the veritable one, and many a traveler has left with the impression of having seen the five books of Moses written by the son of Phinehas. Though destitute of a temple, they ascend their sacred mount three times a year, and celebrate with much display the Feast of the Passover, the Day of Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles.
The clouds that had overcast the sky, and the fogs which had hung upon the mountains like floating curtains in the morning, had been lifted up by noon, and Nature smiled in all the beauty of spring. Passing out of the eastern gate of the city, I entered the Vale of Shechem. It extends from the Plain of Mukhnah on the east to the city on the west, and is twomiles in length and something over 200 yards in width. It gently ascends from Jacob’s Well, and for half a mile its entire breadth is one vast and glorious grove of olive, fig, and almond trees, presenting at times the density of a forest. Beyond the orchards are vineyards and fields of grain, through which flows a crystal brooklet. Rising like massive walls from this garden valley are Mount Gerizim on the south and Ebal on the north, attaining an altitude of nearly 1000 feet. Standing midway the vale, and looking upon these celebrated mountains, one is impressed with their singular companionship. Of equal height, with rugged sides and flattened summits, they remind one of twin brothers. Equally renowned in sacred history, the honor bestowed upon the one was only equal to the glory conferred upon the other. If Gerizim was the mount of blessing and Ebal the mount of cursing, it was upon the latter that Joshua reared the first altar to the living God in Central Palestine. But, less impartial than history, Nature symbolizes the benedictions and maledictions of the law by causing flowers to bloom on Gerizim and thorns to grow on Ebal. Midway the vale are corresponding nooks in the mountain sides, resembling well-formed recesses, and increasing its breadth to nearly 400 yards. Standing out from the base of the mountains are perpendicular ledges of rock, not unlike grand pulpits, from which the whole vale is distinctly seen. Somewhere in this expanse the hosts of Israel assembled to hear all the words of the Law. Divided by the centre of the vale, the tribes of Simeon and Levi, of Judah and Issachar, of Joseph and Benjamin, were gathered around the base of Gerizim, and the tribes of Reuben and Gad, of Asher and Zebulun, of Dan and Naphtali, were congregated over against Ebal. Standing above the people on these great pulpits, which the Creator had reared for an occasion so august, the priests read the Law,while to each blessing and to each cursing the vast multitude responded their assent.[485] So firmly does Nature retain her ancient features, and so exact is the correspondence between the inspired account and the scene as it now appears, that, standing within this venerable church of God’s own construction, thirty centuries unfold their mighty scroll, and the past comes back with the actuality of the present. Before the eye of a sublime faith the tribes reassemble, the priests take their stand, and in sonoroustones slowly and distinctly read, one by one, each command and each prohibition, while from either side, in alternate responses, beginning at the mountain base and rolling outward to the centre, rises the full, deep, responsive “Amen!” like the sound of many waters breaking in alternations of musical thunder against the opposite wall of the everlasting mountains. The area was sufficient for that grandest of human assemblies; and such is the profound silence of the vale, the human voice was heard then, as it is heard now, from mountain to mountain.
Viewed from this point, Gerizim is not unlike a cone with ridged sides and a broken base, while Ebal seems not so high nor steep, but rougher, with its top receding with gentle slope. In the centre of the vale opposite the nooks is the cool, clear, sweet fountain of ’Ain Depneh, whither, as of old, the maidens come for water, and around which shepherds linger with their flocks. In numberless rills the waters flow to the eastward, in pearly brightness and perennial music, the livelong day. From the fig and almond bowers birds of elegant plumage awaken the gentler echoes of the vale. Less than half a mile to the east of the fountain is the wretched hamlet of Belât, presenting a melancholy contrast between the beauty of nature and the deformity of man. Two hundred yards beyond, situated on the point of a spur from Gerizim, is Jacob’s Well. On a mound of shapeless ruins, 20 feet above the Plain of Mukhnah, are fragments of granite columns, the remains of a Christian church. Measuring 75 feet in depth and nine in diameter, this patriarchal well is excavated in the solid rock with regular and smoothly-hewn sides. Originally, a vaulted chamber, 10 feet square and as many deep below the surface of the ground, formed the entrance to the well, the walls of which have fallen in, rendering access difficult. Leaping down into the ruined vault, I found two openings into the well through heaps of limestone blocks. Attaching a cord to a small tin bottle, I lowered it to the depth of 65 feet, but found no water; on lowering it, however, through the other aperture to the depth of 75 feet I reached the water, which was from three to five feet deep. Imagine my joy in drinking from the Well of Sychar, whose waters were sanctified by the lips of the gracious Redeemer! It is clear like unto crystal, having the softness of oil and the sweetness of honey.