named by the ancients Θεοῦ πρόσωπον, doubtless because to those who come
from the north, the Black Mountain, which here projects into the sea,
takes quite the form of a bust. The following day we came to the ancient
Byblus (Gebêl), and then crossed the river Adonis, which still at times,
after violent rains, weeping over the wounded darling of Aphrodite,
becomes blood-red. Beyond Gûneh, almost at the sea, partly indeed in it,
we reached Nahr el Kelb, the ancient Lycus, on whose southern side upon
the rock which projects into the sea, are sculptured the famous
bas-reliefs of Ramses-Sesostris, and of a later Assyrian king.[156]
Notwithstanding our sharp riding we did not arrive at the table-rock
till a little after sunset, and we passed the night at a Khân at the
further side.
The next morning I examined the sculpture more closely, (by which passes
the ancient, artificially constructed road, now broken up,) and I
rejoiced over some essential discoveries, as I found it would be
possible to decypher a date in the hieroglyphical inscriptions. Among
the three Egyptian representations, which all bear the cartouches of
Ramses II., the middle one is dedicated to the highest god of the
Egyptians, to Ra, (Helios), the southernmost to the Theban or
Upper-Egyptian Ammon, and the northern one to the Memphite, or
Lower-Egyptian Phtha. To the same gods, this Ramses had also dedicated
the three celebrated rock-temples in Nubia, Gerf Hussên, Sebûa and Derr;
no doubt because he believed them to be the three principal representers
of Egypt. On the middle stele the inscription begins under the
representation with the date of the 2nd Choiak, of the fourth year of
the reign of King Ramses. The Ammon’s stele, on the contrary, was of the
second, or (if the two marks were bound together at the top) of the
tenth year’s date; under any circumstances, of some other date than the
middle stele,--whence it might be concluded that all three
representations referred to different campaigns.
We also did not leave unvisited the tomb of St. George, and the church
dedicated to him, near Nahr el Kelb; and as we were going to Berut in
the evening, we turned our steps towards the well where the dragon which
he killed used to drink. Thus on the 26th of November we concluded our
excursion to, and over Libanon, this justly celebrated mountain, on
account of its rich mass of historical reminiscences and rare natural
beauties, of which the poet says, that “it bears winter on its head,
spring on its shoulders, autumn in its lap, but that summer slumbers at
its feet by the Mediterranean.”
APPENDIX.
NOTE A.
(Letter XXXIII., p. 350.)
Since Procopius, in the sixth century, tradition had evermore
exclusively decided the Gebel Mûsa to be the Mount of the Law, without
doubt on account of the church founded at its foot by Justinian. I am
unacquainted with any late travellers or scholars who have doubted the
truth of this. Burckhardt, also, does not do this, although he
conjectured, from the numerous inscriptions at Serbâl, that that
mountain had once been erroneously taken for Sinai by the pilgrims. The
words of this illustrious traveller (Trav. in Syria, p. 609) are as
follows:--“It will be recollected that _no inscriptions are found either
on the mountain of Moses or on Mount St. Catherine_; and that those
which are found in the Ledja valley, at the foot of Djebel Catherine,
are not to be traced above the rock, from which the water is said to
have issued, and appear only to be the work of pilgrims who visited that
rock. From these circumstances, _I am persuaded that Mount Serbal was at
one period the chief place of pilgrimage in the peninsula; and that it
was then considered the mountain where Moses received the Tables of the
Law; though I am equally convinced, from a perusal of the Scriptures,
that the Israelites encamped in the Upper Sinai_, and that either Djebel
Mousa or Mount St. Catherine is the real Horeb. It is not at all
impossible that the proximity of Serbal to Egypt may at one period have
caused that mountain to be the Horeb of the pilgrims, and that the
establishment of _the convent_ in its present situation, _which was
probably chosen from motives of security, may have led to the
transferring of that honour to Djebel Mousa_. At present neither the
monks of Mount Sinai nor those of Cairo consider Mount Serbal as the
scene of any of the events of sacred history; nor have the Bedouins any
tradition among them respecting it, but it is possible, that if the
Byzantine writers were thoroughly examined, some mention might be found
of this mountain, which I believe was never before visited by any
European traveller.”
At a later period, the excellent travels of E. Robinson form a decided
epoch in our acquaintance with the peninsula, as well as with Palestine.
With reference to the position of Sinai, he mentions, for the first
time, the favourable vicinity of the great plain of Râha to the north of
Gebel Mûsa, on which the camp of the people of Israel would have had
plenty of room (Palestine, vol. i. pp. 144, sqq.). In defining the
position of the actual Mount of the Law, he departs from the previous
tradition, and endeavours to prove that Moses had not ascended the Gebel
Mûsa, but the mountain ridge rising over the plain from the south, which
is now called Horeb by the monks, and the highest peak of which is named
Sefsâf (vol. i. p. 176). Unfortunately, he has not visited Wadi Firân
and the adjoining Serbâl. In a later essay (Bibl. Sacra, vol. iv. No.
XXII. May, 1849, pp. 381, sqq.) the learned author returns to the
question in respect of my hypothesis, with which he had become
acquainted, and opposes to it his already published arguments for Gebel
Sefsâf. He comprehends this under three points, which he particularizes
from the Mosaic history, and which must therefore also be mentioned
here:--“1. A mountain-summit, overlooking the place where the people
stood. 2. Space sufficient, adjacent to the mountain, for so large a
multitude to stand and behold the phenomena on the summit. 3. The
relation between this space where the people stood and the base of the
mountain must be such, that they could approach and stand at the nether
part of the mount; that they could also touch it, and that further
bounds could appropriately be set around the mount, lest they should go
up into it, or touch the border of it.” The first of these three points
would militate rather against Gebel Mûsa than Serbâl. Robinson says that
the latter is excluded by the second and third points. As to the second,
I will only call to mind that the encampment of the children of Israel
is not otherwise described than at all their earlier stations. If,
therefore, the idea of a camp was to be carried out so exclusively as
that writers should be solicitous about _space_ for the occupation of
so large a people, it would be necessary to find a plain of Râha for all
former stations, particularly at Raphidîm (which, according to almost
general belief was situated at the foot of Serbâl). As there was a
somewhat lengthy stay at that place, Moses was visited by Jethro, and by
his advice divided the whole people into divisions of ten men each, and
organized them methodically; from which we must conclude that there was
a certain local position for all. Whoever thinks of a mass of two
millions,--therefore about the number of the inhabitants of London or
the whole of modern Egypt--encamped in tents (of which they would have
required one for each ten persons, therefore 200,000), as in a
well-ordered military camp, to him even the plain of Râha would appear
much too small; but whoever allows that but a proportionately small
number could group themselves round the principal quarter of Moses, and
that all the rest would seek the shady places and caves of the rocks, he
will be able to understand the camp of Wadi Firân as easily as at any
other place. Wadi Firân also offers--even if we only think of its most
fruitful portion, which must have been the most inviting for
repose--down as far as El Hessue, in connection with the broad Wadi
Aleyât, just as much extent, and, at any rate, a far more inhabitable
space for a connected camp than the plain of Râha. Indeed, if minute
particulars allow of any deductions, such position of the camp would
make it more understandable, why the people were led out of the camp
toward God to the foot of the mountain in Wadi Aleyât. The command not
to ascend the mountain, which is given more expressly in the words that
no one was to touch the ends of the mount, suits any mountain that rises
before the eye, and is closed in by bushes. Just behind the bushes is
the end of the mountain. Robinson refers to my own map of Serbâl as to
this last point, and also the description of the Wadi Aleyât by Bartlett
(Forty Days in the Desert, pp. 54-59). But it would be difficult to
prove, from my sketch-map, that the people could not stretch out at the
foot of the mountain; and Bartlett seems also to be of my opinion. As
this traveller, so well known by his excellently-illustrated, and as
sensible as interesting, descriptions of countries, is just one of those
few who have seen those localities with reference to the question
agitated by me, without previously formed opinions, the citation of the
place referred to by Robinson would be more fitting here, and the rather
as I cannot bring forward the principal points of the argument in a
better manner. I may remark that italicised passages are mine, the wide
words were originally emphaticised by the author:--
He says (p. 55): “If we endeavour to reconcile ourselves to the received
but _questionable system_, which seeks to accommodate the miraculous
with the natural, _<g>it is impossible</g>_, I think, _not to close with the
reasoning advanced in favour of the Serbal_. There can be no doubt that
Moses was personally well acquainted with the peninsula, and had even
probably dwelt in the vicinity of Wadi Feiran during his banishment from
Egypt, but even common report as to the present day, would point to this
favoured locality _<g>as the only fit spot</g>_ in the _whole range of the
Desert for the supply_, either _with water or such provisions as the
country afforded_, of the Israelitish host: on this ground, alone, then,
he would be led irresistibly to fix upon it, when meditating a long
sojourn for the purpose of compiling the law. This consideration derives
additional force when we consider the supply of wood, and other
articles, requisite for the construction of the tabernacles, and which
can only be found readily at Wadi Feiran, and of its being also, in all
probability, from early times, a place visited by trading caravans. But
if Moses were even unacquainted previously with the resources of the
place, he must have passed it on his way from the sea-coast through the
interior of the mountains; and _it is inconceivable that he should have
refused to avail himself of its singular advantages for his purpose_, or
that the host would have consented, without a murmur, to quit, after so
much privation, this fertile and well-watered oasis for new perils in
the barren desert; or that he should, humanly speaking, have been able
either to compel them to do so, or afterwards to fix them in the
_inhospitable unsheltered position of the monkish Mount Sinai, with the
fertile Feiran but one day’s long march in their rear_. Supplies of
_wood_, and perhaps of _water, must, in that case, have been brought, of
necessity, from the very spot they had but just abandoned_. We must
suppose that the _Amalekites_ would oppose the onward march of the
Israelites, _where they alone had a fertile territory_ worthy of being
disputed, and from which Moses must, of necessity, have sought to expel
them. If it be so, then in this vicinity and no other we must look for
Rephidim, from whence the Mount of God was at a very short distance. We
seem thus to have _a combination of circumstances which are met with
nowhere else_, to certify that it was here that Moses halted for the
great work he had in view, and that the scene of the law-giving is here
before our eyes in its wild and lonely majesty. The principal objection
to this is on the following ground, that there is no open space in the
immediate neighbourhood of the Serbal suitable for the _encampment_ of
the vast multitude, and from which they could <g>_all of them at once_</g> have
had a view of the mountain, as is the case at the plain Er Rahah, at
Mount Sinai, where Robinson supposes, principally for that reason, the
law to have been given. But _it this objection conclusive_? We read,
indeed, that Israel ‘camped <g>_before the mount_</g>’ and that ‘the Lord came
down in sight of all the people’ moreover, that bounds were set to
prevent the people from breaking through and violating even the precints
of the holy solitude. Although <g>_these_</g> conditions are more <g>_literally_</g>
fulfilled at Er Rahah, yet, if we understood them as couched in general
terms, _they apply, perhaps, well enough, to the vicinity of the
Serbal_. A glance at the view, and a reference to this small rough map
[here follows a sketch of the plan] will show the reader that the main
encampment of the host must have been in Wadi Feiran itself, from which
the summit of the Serbal is only here and there visible, and that it is
by the lateral Wadi Aleyal that the base of the mountain itself by a
walk of about an hour is to be reached. It certainly struck me, in
passing up this valley, as a very unfit, if not impracticable, spot for
the encampment of any great number of people, _if they were all in
tents_; though well supplied with pure water, the ground is rugged, and
rocky, towards the base of the mountain awfully so; but still _it is
quite possible that a certain number might have established themselves
there, as the Arabs do at present_, while, as on other occasions, the
principal masses were distributed in the surrounding valleys. I do not
know that there is any adequate ground for believing, as Robinson does,
that because the people were warned not to invade the seclusion of the
mount, and a guard was placed to prevent them from doing so, that
<g>_therefore the encampment itself_</g> pressed closely on its borders.
Curiosity might possibly enough lead many to attempt this even from a
distance, to say nothing of those already _supposed to be located_ in
the Wadi Aleyat, near the base of the mountain, to whom the injunction
would more especially apply. Those, however, who press closely the
literal sense of one or two passages, should bear in mind all the
difficulties previously cited, and the _absolute destitution of verdure,
cultivation, running streams, and even of abundant springs, which
characterise the fearfully barren vicinity of the monkish Sinai_, where
there is indeed room and verge enough for encampment, _but no resources
whatever_. If we take up the ground of a _continual and miraculous
provision for all the wants of two millions of people_, doubtless they
may have been subsisted there as well as in any other place; _otherwise
it seems incredible_ that _Moses_ should ever have abandoned a spot,
offering such _unique advantages as Feiran_, to select instead _the most
dreary and sterile spot in its neighbourhood_.”
This was the clearly felt, and unhesitatingly expressed impression that
the companionship of those places with the Biblical narrative made upon
a man, who yet finally remains in doubt, whether, notwithstanding all
the cited grounds, it would not be better to follow the other “systems,”
according to which the whole is regarded as an uninterrupted wonder from
beginning to end, if it indeed be not so called in the Bible (see p. 19
of Bartlett’s work), in which case all the researches into the human
probability of that great historical event become meaningless. The
author then proceeds to some specialities, which he only mentions as
such, in which he departs from my feeling, as he places the attack of
the Amalekites farther down the valley towards El Hessue. The many ways
in which such specialities can be explained, only point out the fact to
us, that the general bearing of the most important circumstances of the
question can alone produce positive conviction, and that where those are
concerned the objections arising from the petty variations must recede.
Soon after Robinson, in 1843, Dr. John Wilson travelled through
Palestine and the Petraïc peninsula, and published his comprehensive
work on the subject (“The Lands of the Bible,” 2 vols., Edinburgh,
1847). Though he does not approach in the most remote degree the high
position of his learned predecessor, I cannot but coincide in some
remarks which he throws out against Robinson’s hypothesis, that the
Sefsâf is the Mount of the Law (vol. i. pp. 222, sqq.). He again shows
its connection with the tradition of Gebel Mûsa. In Serbâl, on the
contrary, he believes he identifies the Mount Paran of the Bible (p.
199), an idea which could only be entertained if the name of Mount Paran
was found to be another denomination of Sinai, and the latter be also
identified with Serbâl. At the conclusion of the second volume (pp. 764,
sqq.), the author adds a note, in which he defends himself from my
contrary opinion concerning the position of Sinai. The most important
reasons, however, which I have everywhere placed in the foreground, he
does not at all touch upon, but only enlarges on specialities, some of
which could easily be confuted, and the rest not bearing on the
principal question. He places Daphka, not even mentioned in the
principal history, and, therefore, certainly less considerable, in Wadi
Firân, and Raphidîm, “the resting places,” in the bare sandy Wadi
e’Sheikh, because there is _no_ water there. But in that case, to use
his own weapons, where is the fountain of Moses? “Few in the kingdom of
Great Britain, at least,” says the author, “will be disposed to
substitute the Wadi Feiran, with clear running water, for Rephidim,
where there was no water for the people to drink.” I believe he does his
countrymen wrong, if he considers them to diverge so generally from the
almost univoce traditions, and to consider the feelings of learned
fathers of the church, who place Raphidîm in Firân, and take the
fountain there for the Fountain of Moses, as a rationalistic explanation
of it; and, besides H. Bartlett, several others of his countrymen, among
whom I particularise Mr. Hogg (see below for a notice of his essay), the
Rev. Dr. Croly, and the author of the Pictorial Bible, have expressly
declared in favour of my opinion. If he mean to say I had overlooked the
fact that the wilderness of Sin, and the wilderness of Sinai, signified
two different things, I will refer him to p. 47 of my work, where the
contrary is distinctly stated. The words, “out of the wilderness of
Sin,” I have also not left unnoticed (p. 39), as little as it was done
by Eusebius and St. Jerome, who also allow the wilderness of Sin to
stretch as far as that of Sinai. The strife with Amalek, as it is
related in Exodus, gives the impression of a general and stubborn fight;
that the principal attack in front was supported by an attack in the
rear, as it is added in Deuteronomy xxv. 18, is not contradicted; the
double attack, too, seems to be alluded to there in the words
[Illustration: Hebrew] ἀντέστη σοι έν τῇ ὁδῷ, καὶ ἔκοψε σου τὴν
οὐραγίαν.[157] Near Elim twelve springs [Illustration: Hebrew] not
wells, are named; but this does not change the matter here, as twelve
running springs, like those in Wadi Firân, cannot be thought of, but as
the author (vol. i., p. 175) himself remarks, only standing ground
waters, which must be dug out, and, therefore, in fact, wells. The great
number of these is alone important, from which the size of the place can
be calculated. The Sheikh Abu Zelîmeh I was well acquainted with, but
that would not hinder a connection of the word with the place, although
I do not lay the slightest stress on such coincidences.
The author does not bring forth other grounds, which he believes would
militate against my opinion; these may, perhaps, have touched the
principal points of the whole question, which were still unconfuted.
Perhaps the author may now find it necessary to add them with respect to
the investigations of a countryman of his, Mr. John Hogg, who took up
the inquiry first in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, March, 1847, and then
in the transactions of the Royal Society of Literature, second series,
vol. iii. pp. 183-236 (read May, 1847, January, 1848); subsequently
extending it considerably under the title of “Remarks and Additional
Views on Dr. Lepsius’s proofs that Mount Serbal is the true Mount Sinai;
or the Wilderness of Sin; on the Manna of the Israelites; and on the
Sinaitic Inscriptions.” This learned writer collates the earliest
traditions, and seeks to prove from them that, before the time of
Justinian, they referred to Serbâl, and not to Gebel Mûsa. Indeed he
seems to have succeeded, and we shall return to the question hereafter.
Since that time the comprehensive and masterly work of my honoured
friend Carl Ritter: _Vergleichende Erdkunde der Sinai-Halbinsel, von
Palästina und Syrien, erster Band_, Berlin, 1848--(Comparative Geology
of the peninsula of Sinai, of Palestine, and Syria, volume one),--has
appeared. The exhausting use and employ of all sources from the oldest
down to the most recent, for an as grandly conceived, as
circumstantially executed, general picture of the peninsula in its
geographical relations and in the relative history of its population,
has also not left the question under discussion, in which history and
geography are in closer connection than in any other, unillustrated.
Sinai is for the peninsula what Jerusalem is to Palestine, and it is
ascertained that the building of the church at Gebel Mûsa, in the sixth
century, brought about by the belief that it was founded at the place
where the Law was given, caused the historical centre of the
peninsula,--which formerly was undoubtedly identical with the city of
Pharan and its palm-forest, as the natural geographical centre,--to be
parted from it, and removed several days’ journey further south; just as
certain must the determination of the question, whether a _first_ or
_second_ parting of the historical and geographical centre could be of
considerable influence in the exposition of the earliest history of the
peninsula, and could even exercise some influence on the future tone,
not only of Sinaitic literature, but even on some of the relations of
the place itself which not unfrequently subject, to some extent, the
destinations of the continually increasing number of travellers.
Ritter’s work, of course, had at once to choose one of the two opinions.
And, naturally, after the final examination of the considerable previous
works, the new opinion which first stepped forth against the view
undoubted for a thousand years, and accepted by all the later
travellers, in an incidental form, in a necessarily imperfect report of
a journey, could make the less demand for preference, as it was not
critically examined in any way, nor taken into consideration by later
travellers. I know how to value the equally careful as impartial
recognizing examination which Ritter has given in his work to the
grounds in favour of Serbâl being Sinai.