AN ARAB STORY-TELLER.
After Horace Vernet.
From Sir Richard Wallace’s Collection.
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.
RUINS OF THE CITY OF SAMARIA.
RUINS OF CÆSAREA.
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.