“767. DAMASCUS—ACTS 9:19”

Damascus—Act_9:19

On a former evening, an allusion was made to the first view of the city of Damascus which a traveller obtains. That view has been celebrated in all ages; and it is one of the few, perhaps the only one, after Constantinople (which is, however, altogether different), that does not disappoint the expectations which the most glowing descriptions excite. Every traveller still speaks of it with rapture, and acknowledges that its beauty

“Far exceedeth the report

Of lavish tongues.”

The latest description of it is this—

“A scene of beauty and verdure hung on my view, for which, with all my expectations, I was unprepared. At my feet lay Damascus, embowered in its evergreen forests, as the poet describes it, ‘A diamond set round with emeralds.’ The morning sun lighted up its white walls, and glanced from its polished domes, and the gilded crescents of its hundred minarets. Gardens and orchards teeming with fruit-trees of almost every species surround the city, and spread far away over the plain. An enchanting variety, too, is given to this panorama of verdure—the foliage of these plantations exhibiting every tint of color, from the somber bite of the olive, and the deep green of the cypress and the walnut, to the auburn of the apricot, and the reddening shade of the pomegranate, and the white and glistening leaves of the poplar. And the view is as extensive as it is beautiful. Towards the west, over the low range that bounds the plain, towers the lofty Hermon, the hoary-headed chief of the Eastern hills. An undulating country, watered by the ‘Pharpar,’ stretches along its base. Southward, the low chain of the Jeb-el-Aswad, and the loftier hills of Mâni’a rise beyond, while far away in the distance may be seen the dim and blue outline of Jebel Haurân. On the south east there is nothing to arrest the eye, save the dim and quivering haze that hovers over the burning desert. Eastward, the morning sun is reflected from the waters of the Bahr-el-Merj [the Lake of the Meadow] and beyond it is a clump of hills, whose graceful summits rise up with clear outline from the mists that veil their bases. To the north-east runs a long line of hills towards Tadmor in the wilderness.

Damascus

“The fertility and beauty of this vast plain, and the very existence of the city itself, depend entirely on the waters of the Barada (Abana). Before entering the plain, four large canals are led off from it at different elevations. These are carried along the precipices on each side of the stream, and are often hewed out and tunneled in the solid rock. Two others are taken from the river before it enters the city, and many more further down. These spread the waters over the plain in every direction. Where no water can be had for irrigation, the plain is a desert. The river itself flows in a winding course through orchards and meadows till it enters the city. Within the walls, the banks are shut in by mason-work, and in many places the bed of the river is arched over. It flows along the walls of the ancient castle, within which the mortal remains of the great Saladin were first committed to the tomb. It then continues its course along the ancient city wall to the ‘gate of peace,’ where it emerges from the more modern suburb. Thence it flows through gardens parallel to the city wall, to ‘Thomas’s Gate,’ and afterwards flows due east across the plain.” Note: Rev. R.L. Porter, “Rivers of Damascus,” in Journal of Sacred Literature for July, 1853.

Another traveller Note: Observations in the East. By John P. Durbin, D.D. New York, 1845. The description of Damascus contained in this work is perhaps the best that can be found. The modern history of the city is given at some length in Mr. Addison’s Damascus and Palmyra. not inaptly compares the distant view of Damascus to that of “a vast fleet anchored far off in a sea of green.” The same traveller, an American divine, is naturally most impressed by the Biblical associations of the scene. He says—“I paused to look upon the scene. Men had dwelt there so long, that it seemed the original home of the human family. Note: “Within a day’s ride, tradition has placed the house of Abraham, the tombs of Elijah, Moses, Noah, Seth, and Abel, and, I believe, claims also that Adam was made of the red earth found in the neighborhood.” It had never been desolate since the first shepherd arrived with his flocks from the Euphrates, and pitched his tents by the two crystal floods of the Abana and Pharpar. Looking upon the transparent waters, they seem to apologize for ‘Naaman the leper,’ when, mortified and indignant, he turned away from the ‘prophet in Samaria,’ who had directed him to ‘dip himself seven times in Jordan,’ and exclaimed, ‘Are not the waters of Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters in Israel, may I not wash in them and be clean?’ Surely he was right, if a comparison of waters was to decide the question. He knew not the power of God until his servant ventured to say, ‘My father, if the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldst thou not have done it? How much rather, then, wash and be clean.’

“My eye wandered over the space to the south of the city; and as I gazed over the peaceful plain where the furious Saul was struck down, and looked up into the calm, clear heaven, whence descended the celestial voice of the ascended Saviour, I felt that I, a wanderer from a world then unknown, might be a spiritual child of him who was here made an apostle, and afterwards sent ‘far away to the Gentiles.’ The mission of Paul commenced at Damascus, which may be called the spiritual mother of Gentile Christianity.”

Local tradition professes to be able to point out the precise spot where Saul fell blinded to the earth. It occurs about half a mile from the eastern gate of the town, in the midst of an unenclosed cemetery. The Christians of Damascus have long since marked their veneration for the spot, by making it the place of burial for their dead. The present road is here purposely diverted from the direct course for a few yards, leaving apart the spot which was the alleged scene of Saul’s conversion. The spot thus respected is evidently a portion of the ancient road, consisting entirely of firmly-embedded pebbles, which, having never been broken up, stands alone, like the fragment of an elevated causeway. The sides have been gradually lowered, by numerous pilgrims, who, from year to year, have taken away the pebbles to preserve as relics. A wide arch-like excavation through the midst of this causeway, produced by the same superstitious industry, bears some resemblance to a dismantled bridge; and it is rewarded by the native Christians as an act of devotion to pass through this aperture.

In many Levantine towns there is a street—not always the principal street—traversing the length of the city in a tolerably straight line, and usually called Straight Street—like Strada Stretta in Malta. “The street which is called Straight” still exists in Damascus under the same name. It is the most important and capacious street in Damascus, running from east to west, and has long been one of the busiest scenes of Eastern commerce within the city. The reputed “house of Judas,” with whom Saul lodged, is still shown and visited. Like most of the “holy places” in Syria, it is a vault below ground, converted into a small chapel or oratory, now in the possession of the Latins. Even the house in which Ananias lived, and in which he is said to have been buried, is also shown. It lies northward of the Straight street, and the site offers a little half underground chapel, common to all Christians, and exhibiting Latin pictures and Greek crosses. Close at hand is a fountain from which the water used for baptizing the apostle, is alleged to have been brought. It will be seen that these, like other local traditions, involve absurdities not worth exposure. Probably, however, these “houses” are only represented as the substructions or cellars of the respective dwellings of Judas and Ananias.

Some have wondered at the scarcity of ancient remains in Damascus, seeing it is perhaps the oldest inhabited city in the world. But it is probably for the very reason that it has always been a peopled place that so few traces of ancient buildings are found; man being a greater destroyer of old things than time. The oldest standing building is the Byzantine Church of St. John, now the chief mosque of the city, and the dome of which figures conspicuously in all the views of Damascus. Of any earlier period there is nothing but portions of wall; and it is possible that the gate at the eastern end of Straight street, called the gate of the sun-rising, which looks like a Roman work, may have been there in the time of Paul. There is much appearance of dilapidation and of ruined houses in Damascus. This is also the case in most other Oriental cities of importance. But this less strongly argues decline in an Eastern than in a Western city; the Orientals generally, and the Turks in particular, being adverse to the repair of old houses, and more inclined to build new ones for themselves, under some superstitious notion that it is more fortunate to begin life in a new house. There might be some sense in this, if, as with us, domestic architecture improved from age to age, and new houses contained adaptations to health and comfort not to be found in those that are old. But the Orientals go on building as their fathers did; and their fancy is not for improved houses, but for new houses—merely as new. Notwithstanding the decline of Damascus, of which unthoughtful travellers talk, we are inclined to think that it is now fully as populous as at any former period; and it is enough to the discredit of the East to assume that the population of this great city has not increased, while that of Western metropolitan cities has risen from tens to hundreds of thousands, and from hundreds of thousands to millions. The most recent estimate, given by the Rev. R. L. Porter in the Journal of Sacred Literature, makes the total population “which resides in the district rendered habitable by the waters of the ancient Abana,” to be “at the lowest estimate” 150,000, of which 108,579 belong to the city of Damascus. This being a somewhat rigid calculation, probably adequately corresponds to the proverbially loose and vague estimates of the Oriental historians, who in former times ascribed to Damascus a population varying from 150,000 to 200,000.

The streets of Damascus are narrow, crooked, badly paved, and of irregular width. The houses are of unequal height, from two to four stories, built occasionally of stone, but generally of sun-dried mud bricks, and without any windows near the ground. The second story, and sometimes the third, usually extends two or three feet over the street, resting upon the exposed ends of the joists, and supported by braces made of roughly hewn and sometimes unhewn pieces of wood. Any windows in these stories towards the street are of close latticework; and as few persons appear in the streets, and there is no rumbling of carts or rattling of carriages, the silence and inactivity that pervade the city, surprise a stranger from the West. This is the external aspect of the city in the parts devoted to private dwellings. But although the tenements within these mud-plastered walls are often wretched enough, yet there are many houses, and even palaces, the interior comfort, elegance, and even splendor of which, offer a strong contrast to the appearance without. The entrance to some of even the finest houses is by a low, mean-looking door in a great blank wall. But this unpromising entrance admits one to a spacious quadrangle paved with marble, in the midst of which a fountain throws up a continual shower, cooling the atmosphere and refreshing the evergreens and flowering shrubs that are planted around it. An arcade supported by slender columns, runs round this court, to which there is an ascent by a few steps, and into which the various apartments open. These are luxuriously furnished with rich carpets and cushions, and the walls and roof elaborately adorned with painting and gilding, and the cornices enriched with Arabic inscriptions. But here the same strange silence reigns, and the only sounds to be heard are the splashing of the fountain, and the echoing of one’s own footsteps over the marble pavement.

But all this is greatly changed, when one approaches the part of the city in which its business is concentrated. Here passengers become more frequent, and strings of mules and laden camels begin to obstruct the way. Soon passing from the narrow street, the covered bazaars are entered, and here “the busy hum of men” meets the ear, and the eye is bewildered amid the gay colors of the various articles exposed for sale, and of the groups that are seen passing in every fantastic variety of Eastern dress. On close inspection, however, some disappointment is felt, for the rich manufactures of which old travellers speak—the brocades of gold, the costly silks, and the unrivalled carpets of the East, we meet at every turn the familiar cottons of Manchester and Glasgow, the cloths of Marseilles, and the prints of Paris; and instead of the Damascus blades, barrels; and jeweled pistols, we find here the gay swords and showy pistols of Birmingham. Oriental goods and arms there are indeed, but the European predominate; and beyond doubt the coin of Syria is flowing fast into Europe, and the power-looms of the Christians are rapidly silencing the hand looms of the Moslems. This is one change. There has been a still greater change at Damascus. Being one of the Moslem holy cities, it used to be distinguished for the hatred and intolerance of its inhabitants towards Christians. They were compelled to dismount and walk on foot on entering the gate; and any one appearing in European dress was sure to expose himself to gross insult, if not to stoning or beating even to death. But all this is altered now. The condition—at least the social condition, of the native Christian has been greatly ameliorated, in so far that his religion no longer subjects him to insult and wrong. Europeans traverse the city with complete impunity; and the servants and subjects of Christian States enjoy privileges unknown to even the native Moslems. As an American traveller (Dr. Durbin) remarks—“The head of a principal Turk may be struck off at any moment, without cause, at the command of a Pasha, while that of a black Indian street porter is safe, because he is a subject of Queen Victoria.”

Thus at Damascus, as elsewhere, the East is opening fast to the enterprise, the principles, and the religion of the West; and, although not by might, not by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord of Hosts, it is quite possible that the day is not far off when the name of Jesus of Nazareth, who there made his glory known to Saul of Tarsus, shall be honored before all other names in this earthly paradise.

Autor: JOHN KITTO