# Syria, the Land of Lebanon/Chapter 1

Syria, The Land of Lebanon
CHAPTER I
THE WHITE MOUNTAIN
FAR off on the eastern horizon the thin haze of an October dawn gently blended into denser masses of silvery white, which rose like dream mountains above the edge of the placid azure sea. The soft, ethereal shapes did not change their outlines, however, as clouds do; and, as the steamer drew nearer to them, the rounded forms gradually took on an appearance of bulk and solidity. These were no mere piles of morning mist, but the massive shoulders of the ancient, famous, glorious range whose strange silvery tint when viewed from afar caused it long, long ago to be called Lebanon — the "White Mountain."
As we approached the shore, the sun rose into a sky of brighter blue than ever domed Italian seas, and great waves of color swept downward over the round white mountainsides. I have traveled since in many lands; I know the beauty of Amalfi's cliffs, the rich tints of the southern coast of Spain, the ​mystic alpenglow on the snow-clad peaks of Switzerland and the delicate opalescence of the Isles of Greece; but I have never seen — I never expect to see — another glory of earth which can compare with the wondrous coloring of the mountains of Lebanon.
We watched floods of red and orange sweep across the lofty summits and then brighten into crowns of mellow gold. We looked into gorges tinged with a purple so rich and deep that the color itself seemed almost a tangible thing. Nearer still we drew, and at the foot of the mountains there came into view dark forests of evergreen and broad, sloping orchards set here and there with tiny villages of shining white. Then there appeared long lines of silvery surf and yellow sand; and we skirted the northern edge of a rock-bound promontory to the crowded harbor of Beirut.
The wording of the Old Testament might lead one to infer that Lebanon is a single mountain, and the modern Syrians also familiarly refer to it as ej-Jebel — "The Mountain." It is not, however, an isolated peak, but an entire range, which begins at the northern border of Palestine and stretches for a hundred miles along the easternmost shore of the Mediterranean. The narrow coastal plain cannot be distinguished at a distance. Straight out of the water the thousand summits rise in ever loftier ranks ​up to the level profile of the central ridge, two miles above the sea.
This "goodly mountain," which dying Moses longed to see, became to Hebrew poets the consummate symbol of all that was most strong and virile, most beautiful and enduring. The springs of Lebanon, the forests of Lebanon, the glory of Lebanon — of these they dreamed and, in ecstatic eulogy or lofty spiritual hope, of these they loved to sing. "Thou art a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and flowing streams from Lebanon," exclaims the hero of the Song of Songs. "The smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon." The bride, too, sings of her lover, "His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars." In more solemn vein, the prophets who spoke of the coming Day of Jehovah drew imperishable imagery from these northern mountains. "The desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.… The glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it." Israel "shall blossom as the lily, and cast forth his roots as Lebanon.… They that dwell under his shadow shall return; they shall revive as the grain, and blossom as the vine: the scent thereof shall be as the wine of Lebanon." " The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir-tree, the pine, and the box-tree together."
Toward evening I strolled out to the end of the ​cape and looked for the first time upon what those of us who have called Beirut our home may be pardoned for believing to be the loveliest prospect in all this beautiful world. From this point can be viewed eighty miles of a coast which in the time of Abraham had already seen the rise and fall of many a proud civilization. To the south is the ancient city of Sidon, thirty miles away, and the rocky point of Sarepta and, in the dim distance, the bold headland of the "Ladder of Tyre." To the north, beyond the gorges of the River of Death and the Dog River, is the River of Adonis, where the loves of heaven and earth were celebrated many centuries before there were Greeks in Greece. Still farther north, Jebail — ancient Byblos — disputes Damascus' claim to be the oldest of cities; and thirty-five miles away the view of the coast is closed by the cape which the Greeks called Theoprosopon, the "Face of God." The Syrians, however, have named this Ras esh-Shukkah or the "Split-off Point," and say that it was torn away from the mountain and thrown bodily into the sea during the great earthquake of July 9, 551, A. D. In this land of fearful cataclysms, the story is quite possible of belief.
View along the coast north of Beirut
Looking up the western slopes of Lebanon
From the tropics to the chill barrenness of the arctics — it is all comprehended in one glorious panorama. What an Arabic poet wrote of yonder towering Sunnin is true of the whole range —
"He bears winter upon his head,  Spring upon his shoulders,  Autumn in his bosom,  While summer lies slumbering at his feet."
But Lebanon is more than a splendid spectacle. There would be no Syria, no fertile mother of the olive and orange, no land of the long martial history, no tale of ancient culture or modern enterprise, save for the Mountain, whose lofty peaks break the rain-clouds borne hither by the west winds and drop their precious moisture on the thirsty soil below.
* ↑ Song of Songs 4:11f, 5:15.
* ↑ Isaiah 35:1f.
* ↑ Hosea 14:5, 7.
* ↑ Isaiah 60:13.