of the Law, became gradually more decided and exclusive for this view
after the time of Procopius in the sixth century; mainly, no doubt, on
account of the church founded at that spot in the reign of Justinian. I
am not aware that there are any modern travellers and savants who have
thrown doubts on the correctness of this assumption. Not even Burckhardt,
although from the numerous inscriptions on Serbâl he was led to infer
that that mountain might have been at one time _incorrectly_ regarded
by the pilgrims as Sinai. The words of this distinguished traveller are
as follows: (Trav. in Syr. p. 609.) “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 Serbâl 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 Serbâl 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
Serbâl 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.”
More recently the remarkable book of travels by E. ROBINSON form a marked
epoch in our knowledge of the Peninsula as well as of Palestine. With
reference to the position of Sinai, he for the first time especially
urges the favourable vicinity of the great plain of RÂHA, to the north
of Gebel Mûsa, in which there was ample space for the encampment of the
people of Israel. (Palestine, vol. i., p. 144, &c.) In his determination,
however, of the actual Mount of the Law, he deviates from the previous
tradition, since he endeavours to prove that Moses did not ascend Gebel
Mûsa, but the mountain ridge jutting out from the south, above the
plain, which is now called HOREB by the monks, and whose highest point
is named Sefsâf. (Vol. i. p. 176.) Unfortunately he did not visit Wadi
Firân and the adjoining Serbâl. In a more recent treatise (Bibl. sacra.
vol. iv. No. xxii. May, 1849, p. 381, &c.) the learned author returns to
the question with reference to my view of it, with which he had become
acquainted, and in opposition he especially mentions the arguments which
he had formerly maintained in favour of Gebel Sefsâf. He comprehends
these under the three following heads, which he extracts from the Mosaic
narrative, as being eminently striking, and which must therefore also
now be pointed out: “1st. A mountain summit overlooking the place where
the people stood. 2nd. Space sufficient adjacent to the mountain for
so large a multitude to stand and behold the phenomena on the summit.
3rd. 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.” Of these three heads,
the first would speak against Gebel Mûsa, and not against Serbâl. This
last, says Robinson, is excluded by the second and third head. Now with
respect to the second, I must only call to mind that the encampment of
the people at Sinai is not related in a different manner from all the
previous stations. If, therefore, we take such a circumscribed view
of the encampment as to believe that we must provide for sufficient
_space_ for the settlement of such a great people, we should then have
to indicate a plain of Râha at all the previous stations, especially in
Raphidîm (which by almost unanimous opinion was situated at the foot of
the Serbâl), because here manifestly they remained for a considerable
time, Moses was visited by Jethro, by his advice divided the whole people
into tens, and organised them according to a form of law, from which we
should be compelled to conclude that there, for the first time, existed
a distinct locality for each individual. He who imagines a multitude
of two millions of men, about as many as the inhabitants of London, or
of the whole of Egypt at the present day, placed in an enclosed camp
composed of tents, of which they must have had two hundred thousand, if
we reckon one for every ten, like a huge, well-arranged military camp,
even to him the plain of Râha would appear too small; but he who assumes
that a comparatively small number could assemble round the chief quarters
of Moses, but that all the others must have sought for shady places,
caves in the rock-precipices, and the scanty herbage of the adjacent
valleys, can as easily imagine the camp to have been placed in Wadi
Firân, or at any other station. Wadi Firân besides, as far down as El
Hessue, even if we only take its most fertile portion (more inviting as
a settlement than any other spot), would offer, in combination with the
broad Wadi Aleyât, just as large, and at all events a far more habitable
space, for a combined encampment than the plain of Râha. Indeed, if it be
true that we can gain anything from such single facts, such an encampment
would render it still more comprehensible why the people were led _out of
the camp_ towards God at the foot of the mountain in the upper portion
of Wadi Aleyât, in order to have a complete survey of the mountain. To
obtain such a view would be impossible at Gebel Mûsa, and unnecessary
at Gebel Sefsâf. Finally, the command not to ascend the mountain, which
is expressed still more imperatively, that no one “should touch the
border of the mountain,” applies to every mountain, which rises simply
before the eyes, and whose means of access can be shut out by a fence.
Immediately beyond the fence lies the border of the mountain.
With reference to this last point, Robinson appeals to my own map of
Serbâl, and the description of Wadi Aleyât, by Bartlett (Forty Days in
the Desert, p. 54, 59). It would be difficult, however, to prove from my
map that the people could not have spread themselves out at the foot of
the mountain, and Bartlett seems to me rather to share my opinion. As
this traveller is so well known by his descriptions of countries, which
are both beautifully illustrated and clearly and graphically described,
and as he is just one of the few who have examined the localities with
his own eyes in reference to the question started by me without holding
any previous views on the subject, it may not be inappropriate to insert
here those words relating to it, from a book cited by Robinson in favour
of his own view; so much the rather, as I could not possibly have placed
the chief heads of the question in a more convincing point of view.
He says, p. 55[412]: “If we endeavour to reconcile ourselves to the
received but _questionable system_ which seeks to accommodate the
miraculous with the natural, _it is impossible_, I think, _not to close
with the reasoning advanced in favour of the Serbâl_. There can be no
doubt that Moses was personally well acquainted with the Peninsula,
and had even probably dwelt in the vicinity of Wadi Feirân during his
banishment from Egypt; but even common report as to the present day,
would point to this favoured locality AS THE ONLY FIT SPOT _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 Feirân, 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 Feirân 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
Raphidîm, 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 Serbâl suitable for the _encampment_ of
the vast multitude, and from which they could ALL OF THEM AT ONCE 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 is this objection conclusive_? We read, indeed,
that Israel ‘camped BEFORE THE MOUNT,’ 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 precincts of the
holy solitude. Although THESE conditions are more LITERALLY fulfilled
at Er Rahah, yet, if we understand them as couched in general terms,
_they apply perhaps well enough to the vicinity of the Serbâl_. A glance
at the view, and a reference to this small rough map[413], will show
the reader that the main encampment of the host must have been in Wadi
Feirân itself, from which the summit of the Serbâl is only here and
there visible, and that it is by the lateral Wadi Aleyât 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 THEREFORE THE ENCAMPMENT ITSELF 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 Aleyât, 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 Feirân_, to select instead _the most dreary and sterile
spot in its neighbourhood_.”
This was the distinct impression, and one frankly offered, after
comparing those localities with the Biblical narration, by a man
who nevertheless finally remains doubtful whether, in spite of all
the reasons cited, it would not be more advisable to follow “the
other system,” in accordance with which we must assume it to be an
uninterrupted miracle from the beginning to the end, even though this
is not expressed in the Bible (see p. 19 of the work cited), whereby,
assuredly, all considerations about the most probable _human_ course of
that great historical event become worthless. The author then passes
to some _individual points_, which he himself only calls attention to
as such; in which he deviates from my mode of comprehension, since,
for instance, he feels himself obliged to place the attack of the
Amalekites somewhat farther down the valley towards El Hessue. The
various possibilities in the explanation of the shorter marches oblige
us always to point out again, that it is only by taking a view of the
most essential points of the question, as a whole, that we can arrive
at a positive conviction; this would necessarily drive those objections
into the background, which might arise from regarding it only from any
individual point.
Shortly after Robinson, in the year 1843, Dr. John Wilson travelled
through Palestine and the Peninsula of Arabia Petræa; he published his
extensive travels (_The Lands of the Bible_, 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1847),
but did not by any means attain the high standing point held by his
learned predecessor. Nevertheless, I cannot but accord with some of the
objections which (vol. i. p. 222, &c.) he makes to Robinson’s assumption
that Sefsâf is the Mount of the Law. He coincides with the tradition
in recognising the Mount of the Law in Gebel Mûsa. In Serbâl, on the
contrary, he believes that he recognises the Mount Paran of the Bible
(p. 199), which we could only suppose, if we admit Mount Paran to be
another expression for Sinai, and if we identify the last with Serbâl.
At the close of the second volume (p. 764, &c.) the author adds a note
in the Appendix, in which he guards himself against my different view as
to the position of Sinai. He does not, however, here touch upon the most
essential arguments which I have everywhere placed in the foreground,
but only speaks of individual points, some of which can be easily
overcome, and of others which have no influence on the chief question.
He places DAPHKA, which is not once mentioned in the principal account,
and therefore assuredly must have been a subordinate spot, in Wadi
Firân, and Raphidîm, “the places for rest,” in the barren sandy Wadi e’
Scheikh, because there was _no_ water there. But, that I may use his own
weapons, what has become of the spring of Moses? “_Few in the kingdom
of Great Britain_ at least,” says the author, “will be disposed to
substitute the _Wadi Feirân_, with clear running water, for _Rephidim_,
where there was no water for the people to drink.” I think he wrongs
his countrymen in making them deviate so universally from the almost
unanimous tradition, and reject as a rationalistic explanation what is
admitted even by the learned Fathers of the Church, who place Raphidîm in
Firân, and consequently regard the spring there as belonging to Moses;
besides, independently of H. BARTLETT, many others of his countrymen
have distinctly declared themselves in favour of my view, which includes
this point, among whom I may mention Mr. HOGG (see below, concerning
his pamphlet about this particular point), the Rev. Dr. CROLY, and the
author of the Pictorial Bible. If he is of opinion that I had overlooked
the fact that the Wilderness of Sin and the Wilderness of Sinai had
different meanings, I refer him to my pamphlet, p. 47, where precisely
the opposite occurs; I have not either left unnoticed the words “_out_
of the Wilderness of Sin” (p. 39), which has not either been done by
Eusebius nor St. Jerome, who equally make the Wilderness of Sin extend as
far as the Wilderness of Sinai. The fight with Amalek, as it is related
in Exodus, presupposes a universal, obstinate, and probably a prepared
contest; that the principal attack of the front was immediately supported
by an attack of the rear-guard is not excepted, as it is added besides
in Deuteron. xxv. 18; the double attack besides appeared distinctly
indicated in the words קָרְךָ בַּדֶּרֶךְ וַיְזַנֵּב ἀντέστη σοι ἐν
τῇ ὁδῷ, καὶ ἔκοψέ σου τὴν οὐραγίαν. At Elim, certainly, twelve _springs_
עֵינֹת not _wells_ are mentioned; but this does not alter the
case, as nevertheless we cannot imagine twelve _rushing_ springs like
those in the Wadi Firân, but as the author (vol. i. p. 175) himself
observes, only _standing_ water underground, which must be specially dug
for—therefore, in fact, wells. Their great number alone remains worthy of
consideration, from which we may conclude that it was an important place.
I knew the Sheikh Abu Zelîmeh very well; but that would not prevent the
existence of a connection between the name and the locality, although I
do not lay the slightest weight on such accordance of names.
The author omits some other reasons, which he believes he can prove in
opposition to my views; these might perhaps have referred precisely to
the chief points of the whole question, which had hitherto remained
uncontested. The author now perhaps feels himself obliged to repeat
his arguments, with reference to the separate remarks of one of his
countrymen, Mr. John Hogg, who handled the subject in a very complete
manner, and worked it out still further, first in the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_, March, 1847, and afterwards in the _Transact. of the R. Soc.
of Literature_, 2 Ser. vol. iii. p. 183-236 (read May, 1847, Jan. 1848),
under the title: _Remarks and Additional Views on Dr. Lepsius’s Proofs
that Mount Serbâl is the true Mount Sinai; on the Wilderness of Sin; on
the Manna of the Israelites; and on the Sinaitic Inscriptions_. This
learned author combines the earliest testimonies about the tradition, and
from them endeavours to prove, that before the time of Justinian it was
in favour of Serbâl, and not of Gebel Mûsa. He seems, in fact, to have
succeeded in proving this, but we shall return, to this question below.
Since then the comprehensive work of my respected friend CARL RITTER
has appeared, which is executed with his usual mastery of the subject:
_Vergleichende Erdkunde der Sinai-Halbinsel, von Palästina und Syrien,
erster Band_, Berlin, 1848. Although he has employed and worked out
all imaginable authorities, from the most ancient to those of modern
date, and has formed a complete picture of the Peninsula as a whole
and in details, with a clear perception and steady hand, both in its
geographical bearing and in the historical relations of its population,
he has nevertheless not neglected the question now under consideration,
in which geography and history are more intimately connected than in any
other. Sinai is to the Peninsula of Sinai what Jerusalem is to Palestine,
and as it is certain that the erection of the church on Gebel Mûsa in
the sixth century, from a belief that it was founded on the spot of
the law-giving, caused the _historical_ centre of the Peninsula, which
previously coincided indisputably with the town of Pharan and its forest
of palms (the natural _geographical_ centre), to be sundered for the
first time, and gradually, since the tenth century, from this, and to
be removed several days’ journey farther to the south,—so it is equally
certain that the decision of the question, whether this was a _first_
or _second_ separation between the historical and geographical centre,
must bear most essentially on the comprehension and delineation of the
earliest history of the Peninsula, and might even exercise an influence
not only on the future form of Sinaitic literature, but even on many
relative conditions of the Peninsula itself, which are in no small degree
regulated by the objects aimed at by the constantly increasing number
of travellers. Ritter’s representation was compelled at the very outset
to decide for one of these two views. At the same time, the new view,
proffered at the latest termination of the preliminary works of merit,
and in opposition to what had been held with implicit faith for the last
thousand years, and maintained without exception by all recent writers of
travels, now first appeared in the form of an occasional and necessarily
imperfect traveller’s account, and might very naturally lay even less
claim to a favourable hearing, not having hitherto received critical
examination from any quarter, nor been noticed by later travellers.
For this reason I so much the more value the careful and impartial
examination of the grounds in favour of Serbâl being Mount Sinai, for
which Ritter has granted a place in his work.
He does this at p. 736, &c. He here rejects the opinion that the
tradition of the convent on Gebel Mûsa, known only since the sixth
century, could have any weight in forming a decision; “the tradition of
the still older convent of Serbâl, and of the town of Serbâl in Wadi
Firân, might be said to have existed just as truly, but has only been
lost _to us_.” Other reasons, therefore, derived from nature and history,
must speak in its favour. He then cites the view adopted by Robinson,
who places Raphidîm in the upper part of the Wadi e’ Scheikh; but with
justice he places in opposition to this, that it then encroaches upon the
farther march, and would be mentioned; and shortly afterwards he says,
in as convincing a manner, that we cannot then conceive how the people
could have murmured for want of water, already one day’s journey beyond
the Firân, which was so richly supplied with water, while this can be
easily explained on the long way from Elim, as far as the neighbourhood
of Firân. Ritter therefore agrees with me and the old tradition in
regarding the wonderful brook of Firân as the spring of Moses. He
only thinks, if Moses struck the spring out of the rock, it must then
have been at the beginning, and not at the termination of the present
brook, and he therefore transfers Raphidîm into the uppermost portion
of Wadi Firân, whose fertility did not exist before the appearance of
the spring. With respect to the position of the Mount of the Law, he
evades positive decision for the time. “Already,” he says, “in both the
almost contemporaneous narrators, Jerome (Procopius?) and Cosmas, we see
the division of the views entertained about these localities, neither
of which, even in the most recent double view, it appears by decisive
and sufficient grounds, can be preferred, by us at least, alone before
the others. Since each of these two modes of explanation of a text so
indeterminate in topographical respects, and of a locality still known
so imperfectly, can only serve as _hypothetical probabilities_ in a more
exact interpretation, allow me to point out cursorily our _hypothetical
view_ of this affair, which will perhaps never be placed in a perfectly
clear light.”