A JOURNEY FROM ALEPPO TO JERUSALEM, (continued 4)

On the capitals of the pillars there runs all round a stately architrave and cornice, rarely carved. The portico is covered with large stones hollowed archwise, extending between the columns and the wall of the temple. In the centre of each stone is carved the figure of some one or other of the heathen gods or goddesses, or heroes. I remember amongst the rest a Ganymede, and the eagle flying away with him, so lively done that it excellently represented the sense of that verse in Martial,

The gate of the temple is twenty-one feet wide, but how high could not be measured, it being in part filled up with rubbish. It is moulded and beautified all round with exquisite sculpture. On the nethermost side of the portal is carved a Fame hovering over the head, as you enter, and extending its wings two-thirds of the breadth of the gate; and on each side of the eagle is described a Fame, likewise upon the wing. The eagle carries in its pounces a caduceus, and in his beak the strings or ribbons coming from the ends of two festoons, whose other ends are held and supported on each side by the two Fames. The whole seemed to be a piece of admirable sculpture.

The measure of the temple within is forty yards in length, and twenty in breadth. In its walls all round are two rows of pilasters, one above the other; and between the pilasters are niches, which seem to have been designed for the reception of idols. Of these pilasters there are eight in a row on each side; and of the niches, nine.

About eight yards' distance from the upper end of the temple stands part of two fine channelled pillars, which seem to have made a partition in that place, and to have supported a canopy over the throne of the chief idol, whose station appears to have been in a large niche at this end. On that part of the partition which remains are to be seen carvings in rilievo representing Neptune, Tritons, Fishes, Sea-gods, Arion and his dolphin, and other marine figures. The covering of the whole fabric is totally broken down; but yet this I must say of the whole as it now stands, that it strikes the mind with an air of greatness beyond any thing that I ever saw before, and is an eminent proof of the magnificence of the ancient architecture.

About fifty yards distant from the temple is a row of Corinthian pillars, very great and lofty, with a most stately architrave and cornice at top. This speaks itself to have been part of some very august pile; but what one now sees of it is but just enough to give a regret that there should be no more of it remaining.

Here is another curiosity of this place, which a man had need be well assured of his credit before he ventures to relate, lest he should be thought to strain the privilege of a traveller too far. That which I mean is a large piece of the old wall, or περίβολος, which encompassed all these structures last described. A wall made of such monstrous great stones, that the natives hereabouts (as it is usual in things of this strange nature) ascribe it to the architecture of the devil. Three of the stones, which were larger than the rest, we took the pains to measure, and found them to extend sixty-one yards in length; one twenty-one, the other two each twenty yards. In deepness they were four yards each, and in breadth of the same dimension. These three stones lay in one and the same row, end to end. The rest of the wall was made also of great stones, but none, I think, so great as these. That which added to the wonder was, that these stones were lifted up into the wall more than twenty feet from the ground.

In the side of a small ascent, on the east part of the town, stood an old single column, of the Tuscan order, about eighteen or nineteen yards high, and one yard and a half in diameter. It had a channel cut in its side from the bottom to the top, from which we judged it might have been erected for the sake of raising water.

At our return to our tents we were a little perplexed by the servants of the mosolem, about our caphar. We were contented at last to judge it at ten per Frank, and five per servant, rather than we would engage in a long dispute at such a place as this.

Near the place where we lodged was an old mosque, and (as I said before) a fine fountain. This latter had been anciently beautified with some handsome stone-work round it, which was now almost ruined; however, it afforded us this imperfect inscription.

ΤΩΝΧΕΙΜΕΡΕΙΩΝ Π..ΟΝΕΩΚΤΙϹΤΟϹΠΑΝΝ ΒΛΕΠΕΙΝΔΕΔΩΚΕΝ ΩΡΡΕϹΤΕΚΛΙΝΕΟΝ ΧΡΥϹΟΝΠΑΡΑϹΧϹ ... ϹΩϹΙΒΙΟϹΤΕΜΕΓΑϹ. ΥΔΩΡΤΕΝΥΝ-ΡΕΚΤΙΠΗΓΑΙΟΝΠΟΛΥ ΕΥΧΑΙϹΘΕΟΔΟΤΟΥΤΟΥ ΟϹΙΟΥΕΠΙϹΚΟΠΟΥ.

May 6.—Early this morning we departed from Balbec, directing our course straight across the valley. As we passed by the walls of the city, we observed many stones inscribed with Roman letters and names, but all confused, and some placed upside down, which demonstrates that the materials of the wall were the ruins of the ancient city. In one place we found these letters, RMIPTITVEPR; in others these, VARI–––; in another, NERIS; in others, LVCIL–––, and SEVERI, and CELNAE, and FIRMI; all which serve only to denote the resort which the Romans had to this place in ancient times.

In one hour we passed by a village called Ye-ad; and in an hour more went to see an old monumental pillar, a little on the right hand of the road. It was nineteen yards high, and five feet in diameter, of the Corinthian order. It had a table for an inscription on its north side, but the letters are now perfectly erased. In one hour more we reached the other side of the valley, at the foot of Mount Anti-Libanus.

We immediately ascended the mountain, and in two hours came to a large cavity between the hills, at the bottom of which was a lake called by its old Greek name, Limone. It is about three furlongs over, and derives its waters from the melting of the snow. By this lake our guides would have had us stay all night, assuring us that if we went up higher in the mountains we should be forced to lie amongst the snow; but we ventured that, preferring a cold lodging before an unwholesome one. Having ascended one hour, we arrived at the snow, and proceeding amongst it for one hour and a half more, we then chose out as warm a place as we could in so high a region; and there we lodged this night upon the very top of Libanus. Our whole stage this day was seven hours and a half.

Libanus is in this part free from rocks, and only rises and falls with small, easy unevennesses, for several hours' riding; but is perfectly barren and desolate. The ground, where not concealed by the snow, appeared to be covered with a sort of white slates, thin and smooth. The chief benefit it serves for is, that by its exceeding height it proves a conservatory for abundance of snow, which, thawing in the heat of summer, affords supplies of water to the rivers and fountains in the valleys below. We saw in the snow prints of the feet of several wild beasts, which are the sole proprietors of these upper parts of the mountains.

May 7.—The next morning we went four hours almost perpetually upon deep snow, which, being frozen, bore us and our horses; and then descending for about one hour, came to a fountain called, from the name of an adjacent village, Ain-il-Hadede. By this time we were got into a milder and better region.

Here was the place where we were to strike out of the way, in order to go to Canobine and the cedars. And some of us went upon this design, whilst the rest chose rather to go directly for Tripoli, to which we had not now above four hours. We took with us a guide, who pretended to be well acquainted with the way to Canobine, but he proved an ignorant director; and after he had led us about for several hours in intricate and untrodden mazes amongst the mountains, finding him perfectly at a loss, we were forced to forsake our intended visit for the present, and to steer directly for Tripoli, where we arrived late at night, and were again entertained by our worthy friends, Mr. Consul Hastings and Mr. Fisher, with their wonted friendship and generosity.

May 8.—In the afternoon Mr. Consul Hastings carried us to see the castle of Tripoli. It is pleasantly situated on a hill, commanding the city, but has neither arms nor ammunition in it, and serves rather for a prison than a garrison. There was shut up in it at this time a poor Christian prisoner, called Sheikh Eunice, a Maronite. He was one that had formerly renounced his faith, and lived for many years in the Mohammedan religion, but in his declining age he both retracted his apostacy and died to atone for it, for he was impaled by the order of the pasha two days after we left Tripoli. This punishment of impaling is commonly executed amongst the Turks for crimes of the greatest degree, and is certainly one of the greatest indignities and barbarities that can be offered to human nature. The execution is done in this manner. They take a post of about the bigness of a man's leg, and eight or nine feet long, and make it very sharp at one end. This they lay upon the back of the criminal, and force him to carry it to the place of execution, imitating herein the old Roman custom of compelling malefactors to bear their cross. Being arrived at the fatal place, they thrust in the stake at the fundament of the person who is the miserable subject of this doom, and then taking him by the legs, draw on his body upon it, till the point of the stake appears at his shoulders. After this they erect the stake, and fasten it in a hole dug in the ground. The criminal, sitting in this manner upon it, remains not only still alive, but also drinks, smokes, and talks, as one perfectly sensible, and thus some have continued for twenty-four hours; but generally, after the tortured wretch has remained in this deplorable and ignominious posture an hour or two, some one of the standers by is permitted to give him a gracious stab to the heart, so putting an end to his inexpressible misery.

Sunday, May 9.—Despairing of any other opportunity, I made another attempt this day to see the cedars and Canobine. Having gone for three hours across the plain of Tripoli, I arrived at the foot of Libanus, and from thence, continually ascending, not without great fatigue, came in four hours and a half to a small village called Eden, and in two hours and a half more to the cedars. These noble trees grow amongst the snow near the highest part of Lebanon, and are remarkable as well for their own age and largeness as for those frequent allusions made to them in the word of God. Here are some of them very old, and of a prodigious bulk, and others younger, of a smaller size. Of the former I could reckon up only sixteen, and the latter are very numerous. I measured one of the largest, and found it twelve yards six inches in girth, and yet sound, and thirty-seven yards in the spread of its boughs. At about five or six yards from the ground it was divided into five limbs, each of which was equal to a great tree.

After about half an hour spent in surveying this place, the clouds began to thicken, and to fly along upon the ground, which so obscured the road that my guide was very much at a loss to find our way back again. We rambled about for seven hours thus bewildered, which gave me no small fear of being forced one night more at Libanus; but at last, after a long exercise of pains and patience, we arrived at the way that goes down to Canobine, where I arrived by the time it was dark, and found a kind reception, answerable to the great need I had of it, after so long fatigue.

Canobine is a convent of the Maronites, and the seat of the patriarch, who is at present F. Stephanus Edenensis, a person of great learning and humanity. It is a very mean structure; but its situation is admirably adapted for retirement and devotion, for there is a very deep rupture in the side of Libanus, running at least seven hours' travel directly up into the mountain. It is on both sides exceeding steep and high, clothed with fragrant greens from top to bottom, and everywhere refreshed with fountains, falling down from the rocks in pleasant cascades, the ingenious work of nature. These streams, all uniting at the bottom, make a full and rapid torrent, whose agreeable murmuring is heard all over the place, and adds no small pleasure to it. Canobine is seated on the north side of this chasm, on the steep of the mountain, at about the midway between the top and the bottom. It stands at the mouth of a great cave, having a few small rooms fronting outward that enjoy the light of the sun, the rest are all under ground. It had for its founder the emperor Theodosius the Great; and though it has been several times rebuilt, yet the patriarch assured me the church was of the primitive foundation; but, whoever built it, it is a mean fabric, and no great credit to its founder. It stands in the grotto, but fronting outwards receives a little light from that side. In the same side there were also hung in the wall two small bells to call the monks to their devotions; a privilege allowed nowhere else in this country, nor would they be suffered here, but that the Turks are far enough off from the hearing of them.

The valley of Canobine was anciently, as it well deserves, very much resorted to for religious retirement. You see here still hermitages, cells, monasteries, almost without number. There is not any little part of rock that jets out upon the side of the mountain, but you generally see some little structure upon it for the reception of monks and hermits, though few or none of them are now inhabited.

May 10.—After dinner I took my leave of the patriarch, and returned to Tripoli. I steered my course down by a narrow oblique path cut in the side of the rupture, and found it three hours before I got clear of the mountains, and three more afterwards before I came to Tripoli.

May 11.—This day we took our leaves of our worthy Tripoli friends, in order to return for Aleppo. We had some debate with ourselves, whether we should take the same way by which we came when outward bound, or a new one by Emissa, Hempse, and Hamal. But we had notice of some disturbances upon this latter road, so we contented ourselves to return by the same way we came; for having had enough by this time both of the pleasure and of the fatigue of travelling, we were willing to put an end to both the nearest and speediest way. All that occurred to us new in these days' travel was a particular way used by the country people in gathering their corn, it being now harvest time. They plucked it up by handfuls from the roots, leaving the most fruitful fields as naked as if nothing had ever grown on them. This was their practice in all places of the east that I have seen; and the reason is that they may lose none of their straw, which is generally very short, and necessary for the sustenance of their cattle, no hay being here made. I mention this, because it seems to give light to that expression of the Psalmist, "which withereth before it be plucked up,"[631] where there seems to be a manifest allusion to this custom. Our new translation renders this place otherwise; but in so doing it differs from most or all other copies, and here we may truly say the old is the better. There is indeed mention of a mower in the next verse, but then it is such a mower as fills not his hand, which confirms rather than weakens the preceding interpretation.

Returning, therefore, by our former stages without any notable alteration or occurrence, we came in eight days to the Honey Khan, at which place we found many of our Aleppine friends, who, having heard of our drawing homeward, were come out to meet us and welcome us home. Having dined together, and congratulated each other upon our happy reunion, we went onward the same evening to Aleppo.

Thus, by God's infinite mercy and protection, we were restored all in safety to our respective habitations. And here, before I conclude, I cannot but take notice of one thing more, which I should earnestly recommend to the devout and grateful remembrance of every person engaged in this pilgrimage, viz., that amongst so great a company as we were, amidst such a multiplicity of dangers and casualties, such variety of food, airs, and lodgings (very often none of the best), there was no one of us that came to any ill accident throughout our whole travels, and only one that fell sick by the consequences of the journey after our return, which I esteem the less diminution to so singular a mercy, in regard that, amongst so many of my dear friends and fellow-travellers, it fell to my own share to be the sufferer. Δόξα Θεῷ.

Since the book was printed off, the two following letters, relating to the same subject, were communicated by the Rev. Mr. Osborn, Fellow of Exeter College; to whom they were sent by the author, in answer to some questions proposed by him.

Sir,

I RECEIVED yours of June 27, 1698, and returned you an answer to it in brief, about three months since, promising to supply what was then wanting at some other opportunity, which promise I shall now make good. You desired an account of the Turks, and of our way of living amongst them. As to the former, it would fill a volume to write my whole thoughts about them. I shall only tell you at present that I think they are very far from agreeing with that character which is given of them in Christendom, especially for their exact justice, veracity, and other moral virtues, upon account of which I have sometimes heard them mentioned with very extravagant commendations, as though they far exceed Christian nations. But I must profess myself of another opinion; for the Christian religion, how much soever we live below the true spirit and excellency of it, must still be allowed to discover so much power upon the minds of its professors as to raise them far above the level of a Turkish virtue. It is a maxim that I have often heard from our merchants, that a Turk will always cheat when he can find an opportunity. Friendship, generosity, and wit (in the English notion), and delightful converse, and all the qualities of a refined and ingenuous spirit, are perfect strangers to their minds, though in traffic and worldly negotiations they are acute enough, and are able to carry the accounts of a large commerce in their heads without the help of books, by a natural arithmetic, improved by custom and necessity. Their religion is framed to keep up great outward gravity and solemnity, without begetting the least good tincture of wisdom or virtue in the mind. You shall have them at their hours of prayer, which are four a day always, addressing themselves to their devotions with the most solemn and critical washings, always in the most public places, where most people are passing, with most lowly and most regular protestations, and a hollow tone, which are amongst them the great excellencies of prayer. I have seen them, in an affected charity, give money to bird-catchers (who make a trade of it), to restore the poor captives to their natural liberty, and at the same time hold their own slaves in the heaviest bondage; and at other times they will buy flesh to relieve indigent dogs and cats, and yet curse you with famine and pestilence, and all the most hideous execrations, in which way these eastern nations have certainly the most exquisite rhetoric of any people upon earth. They know hardly any pleasure but that of the sixth sense. And yet with all this, they are incredibly conceited of their own religion, and contemptuous of that of others, which I take to be the great artifice of the devil, in order to keep them his own. They are a perfect visible comment upon our blessed Lord's description of the Jewish Pharisees. In a word, lust, arrogance, covetousness, and the most exquisite hypocrisy, complete their character. The only thing that ever I could observe to commend in them is the outward decency of their carriage, the profound respect they pay to religion and to every thing relating to it, and their great temperance and frugality. The dearness of any thing is no motive in Turkey, though it be in England, to bring it into fashion.

As for our living amongst them, it is with all possible quiet and safety; and that is all we desire, their conversation being not in the least entertaining. Our delights are among ourselves; and here being more than forty of us, we never want a most friendly and pleasant conversation. Our way of life resembles in some measure the academical. We live in separate squares, shut up every night after the manner of colleges. We begin the day constantly, as you do, with prayers, and have our set times for business, meals, and recreations. In the winter we hunt in the most delightful champaign twice a week; and in the summer go as often to divert ourselves under our tents, with bowling and other exercises; so that you see we want not divertisements, and these all innocent and manly. In short, it is my real opinion, that there is not a society out of England that for all good and desirable qualities may be compared to this. But enough of this confusion, which I would have shortened, and put in better order, if I had had time.

March 10, 1698.

Sir,

As for your questions about Gehazi's posterity and the Greek excommunications, I have little to answer; but yet, I hope, enough to give you and your friend satisfaction. When I was in the Holy Land I saw several that laboured under Gehazi's distemper, but none that could pretend to derive his pedigree from that person. Some of them were poor enough to be his relations; particularly at Sichem (now Naplosu) there were no less than ten (the same number that were cleansed by our Saviour not far from the same place) that came begging to us at one time. Their manner is to come with small buckets in their hands, to receive the alms of the charitable, their touch being still held infectious, or at least unclean. The distemper, as I saw it in them, was very different from what I have seen it in England; for it not only defiles the whole surface of the body with a foul scurf, but also deforms the joints of the body, particularly those of the wrists and ankles, making them swell with a gouty, scrofulous substance, very loathsome to look upon. I thought their legs resembled those of old, battered horses, such as are often seen in drays in England. The whole distemper, indeed, as it there appeared, was so noisome that it might well pass for the utmost corruption of the human body on this side the grave; and certainly the inspired penmen could not have found out a fitter emblem whereby to express the uncleanness and odiousness of vice. But to return to Gehazi, it is no wonder if the descent from him be by time obscured, seeing the best of the Jews, at this time of day, are at a loss to make out their genealogies. But, besides, I see no necessity in Scripture for his line being perpetuated. The term "for ever" is, you know, often taken in a limited sense in holy writ, of which the designation of Phineas's family to the priesthood[632] may serve for an instance. His posterity was, you know, cut entirely off from the priesthood, and that transferred to Eli (who was one of another line) about three hundred years after.

I have inquired of a Greek priest, a man not destitute either of sense or probity, about your other question. He positively affirmed it, and produced an instance of his own knowledge in confirmation of it. He said that, about fifteen years ago, a certain Greek departed this life without absolution, being under the guilt of a crime which involved him in the sentence of excommunication, but unknown to the church. He had Christian burial given him; and, about ten years after, a son of his dying, they had occasion to open the ground near where his body was laid, in order to bury his son by him, by which means they discovered his body as entire as when it was first laid in the grave. The shroud was rotted away, and the body naked and black, but perfectly sound. Report of this being brought to the bishop, he immediately suspected the cause of it, and sent several priests (of whom the relator was one) to pray for the soul of the departed, and to absolve him at his grave; which they had no sooner done, but (as the relator goes on) the body instantly dissolved and fell into dust, like slacked lime; and so, well satisfied with the effect of their absolution, they departed. This was delivered to me verbo sacerdotis. The man had hard fortune not to die in the Romish communion; for then his body being found so entire would have entitled him to saintship; for the Romanists, as I have both heard and seen, are wont to find out and maintain the relics of saints by this token; and the same sign which proves an anathema maranatha amongst the Greeks, demonstrates a saint amongst the Papists. Perhaps both are equally in the right.

April 12, 1700.