ON the southern section of the Lebanon range, in N. lat. 31° 46′ 45″, and in E. long. 35° 13′ from Greenwich, stands the memorable city of Jerusalem. Elevated 2610 feet above the level of the Mediterranean, and 3922 above the River Jordan, it is thirty-three miles from the former and sixteen from the latter. Situated on a mountain summit, the crown of which is broken into a wilderness of bleak limestone peaks, divided by numberless ravines, it is by nature one of the most strongly fortified cities in the world. Occupying the summits of five hills, it is encompassed, except on the north, by deep valleys, which in the earlier stages of military science must have been formidable obstructions to an assailing foe. That well-known passage in the Psalms, “As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so is the Lord round about his people,”[71] most evidently includes the valleys that circumvallate the platform on which the city is built, as well as the surrounding mountains. Indeed, there is but little difference in the altitude of Olivet and Moriah, of the Hill of Corruption and Mount Zion. In the olden times, when an invading foe approached the walls of a town with towers, battering-rams, ballistas, and catapults, an intervening valley was a more serious obstacle to encounter than a mountain to be scaled, especially as it served as a fosse, in crossing which the besiegers were exposed to the arrows of the besieged, who crowded the ramparts above. Approach Jerusalem from the north, west, or south, and the city rises above the hills that environ it, its embattled towers, graceful minarets, and swelling domes standing out against the sky as against a background. In this regard it is not unlike the Acropolis of Athens, which, rising like a thing of life from the Attic plain, has Lycabettus, the Pnyx, the Museum, and the Areopagus near, and Hymettus, Pentelicus, Mount Parnes, and Ægaleos in the distance; but it resembles more truly Rome, sitting on a cluster of hills, with an ample plain for future expansion, with hills near and mountains distant, the Janiculum answering to Olivet, and the Apennines to the Heights of Moab.[72]
To reconcile this passage with the topographical facts as they appear to every observer, some have pointed to the white mountains of Tîh on the south, to the wall-like ridge of Moab on the east, and to the rugged summits of Lebanon on the north; but it is simpler and more natural to suppose that the Psalmist had in his mind Olivet, the Mount of Corruption, and the Hill of Evil Council, rising from the two valleys which, like some deep moat, circumvallate the city on the east, south, and west; referring not so much to the height of the hills above the level of the city, as to their height from their valley beds, in which their everlasting bases rest. But on the north there is no such natural obstruction to impede the advance of an enemy. The ground rises gently to the summit of Scopus, which is a western projection of the Olivet ridge, a mile distant from the town, and which gradually disappears toward the west. To strengthen by art what nature had left defenseless, the celebrated tower of Psephinus was erected at the northwest corner of the ancient wall, which, being 70 cubits high, was not only a “tower of strength,” but also afforded from its top at sunrise a view of Arabia and of the sea.